The Beholder (12 page)

He realized he enjoyed sparring with her as much
as he enjoyed watching the blood pulse in her neck. He said, “Believe me, I didn’t have a choice.”

“We always have more than one option.” She took his measure and grimaced at what she saw.

“Not in your case,” he said. It was a harsh reality to admit, but he had to make it plain to her who had the upper hand.

“We’ll see about that.” The steadfast gleam in her eyes hardened, and the threat in the watery depths matched his own for intensity.

He fought an urge to grab her and show her who was dominant, but she stood out of his reach and rubbed her arms. “You mentioned a generator. Where is it?”

“I’ll help you with it.” He tried to sit. Pain stabbed his shoulder and arm, and he froze, panting hard.

“Stay.” She held up a hand as if she were giving a command to a dog. “I don’t want you bleeding again. Though…” She tapped the side of her cheek. “Come to think on it, I wouldn’t mind another round with the poker.”

“What?”

She grinned with a craftiness that surprised him. “Never mind. I’ll find the generator on my own.” There was a self-sufficient confidence about her that annoyed him.

“You can’t start it.”

“Don’t tell me I can’t do something. I may be small and—what did you call me? Oh, yeah—‘gullible,’ but I certainly don’t need your help with a generator. My grandmother has one. I start it all the time when our power goes out on the reservation.” She wheeled in a
huff and gave him her back as she flounced out of the room and headed for the back door.

He heard her stop in the kitchen. She must have realized she’d gone off half-cocked as she shouted, “Where can I find the generator?”

He didn’t know why, but he found himself grinning like a fool as he said, “The shed out back.” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d grinned like that.

“Fine.”

The door slammed as she left.

For a second he wondered if she would return, and he found himself on edge, listening for her footsteps. If she was going to leave, she would have left last night. He relaxed back against the pillows and thought of her.

Nina Rainwater seemed all goodness and kindness and vulnerability, but she had a temper and a feisty determination, qualities he could even grow to admire. Still, he couldn’t trust her not to harm Ethan.

And what about the magic that surrounded her? He now knew why she shied at physical contact. She could feel his darkest desires, and they disturbed her. He didn’t like being laid open to anyone, especially her.

But that wasn’t the only problem with her. Her powers of attraction worked on him constantly. Was she as pure and virginal as she seemed? He wanted to explore that possibility, but he couldn’t. No—he
wouldn’t
. He frowned until he heard the generator roar to life. Then a grin twisted his lips.

Nina left the shed, glad to be out in the fresh air. The shack had been small, freezing cold and smelled of
gasoline fumes. And she had hardly had enough room to pull-start the generator.

She sighed with relief as she left behind the loud hum of the engine that still rang in her ears. The sleet had put a hard crust on the surface of the snow, and with every step she had to break ice.

Luckily, the snow and sleet were tapering off; so was the wind. The sky looked lighter, too. The gunmetal clouds had turned to whale gray. Tiny flakes, mixed with ice, fell on her face and head and thumped against the borrowed jacket. The smell of Kane still clung to it and surrounded her. She found herself taking large whiffs of the material. He really did smell great and made her drool when she looked at him, though she couldn’t say there was anything inwardly likable about him.

She had to admit he could be charming and easy to talk to when he wanted to be. Hadn’t he expertly steered her into talking about the pain involved with losing those she tried to help? But when she had inquired about his personal life, he clammed up.

She wished now she hadn’t been so honest with him. But hadn’t he made her realize why she sought out the Quiet Place so often? It was the loss that depressed her and made her feel in need of rejuvenating.

She might have helped him realize something about himself if he hadn’t been so secretive about his life. She couldn’t stop wondering what in his past had made him so unhappy, cynical and remote. Maybe it had to do with his parents or brother. She had noticed a sadness drift into Kane’s expression when he had mentioned he cared
about his brother. There must be a reason mentioning his brother had upset Kane and ended his few unguarded moments of candidness. He had said, “It’s better we don’t know too much about each other.” Initially, that had hurt her because she’d told him something very personal about herself. It was only right he reciprocated.

But now that she wasn’t near him and had time to think, she was glad he’d said it. She had let down her guard, but his words had made her aware of her present danger: that she was snowed in with a kidnapper, someone who was in league with a gleaner. No, now that she thought about it, it was better they stayed away from the personal stuff.

Her brow wrinkled in thought as she trudged through the white, crusty blanket. She felt her pants and long johns getting soaked. The cold went right through her shins and ankles and down into her hiking boots. When she bent over to knock away a piece of ice sticking to her corduroy pants, something caught her eye. She hadn’t seen the large tracks on her way out to the shed. They were snow-covered, but the deep indentation of them was unmistakable. Their trail led from the woods to a cabin window, then back into the woods.

She stuck her hand down into the impression. The animal’s foot was three inches wider. It wasn’t a bear track. She knew from helping bears that they left a barefoot-human type of print. The image of the gleaner flashed in her mind, and a chill slid down her spine.

She straightened and looked off into the woods. The trail led toward the mountaintop. Every warning signal in her body went off as she sensed something
lurking behind the trees, a waiting malevolence, taut and heavy. She sensed a pair of eyes watching her from the shadows. Was the gleaner out there, spying on her, waiting for the right moment to pounce? The hairs along her neck crawled, even as a feeling of doom settled over her.

If she wanted to survive, she had to be vigilant and one step ahead of him. Impossible with Kane around. She had to be rid of him so she could fight the gleaner.

And why was the gleaner stalking her and not making his move? Was he waiting to ambush her alone? She remembered how Kane had hesitated and the gleaner had savagely attacked, but he hadn’t killed Kane. Maybe the gleaner just wanted her. A plan came to her, and she filed it away for later use.

Thankfully, she was only a few yards from the cabin, and she darted back inside. When she closed and locked the door, she let herself breathe again. She knew a locked door wouldn’t stop a gleaner’s killing powers, but it sure felt good to have four walls battened around her.

Her heart calmed while she stripped off the large coat and wet boots and peeked into the living room to check on Kane.

As if he felt her, he turned to look at her. His tawny hair fell down around his square jaw and shoulders. The stubble on his chin had thickened. He had pushed the blankets down to his waist, and she got an eyeful of brawny biceps and washboard abs above his jeans. She had wrapped the bandage over most of his pectorals, but she could see the swelled muscles there. She remembered every ridge and valley of his body beneath her fingertips
when she had tended to his wounds. That strange heat he’d awakened in her began churning in her belly, and she blurted, “I’ll find something for us to eat.”

He gave her a noncommittal nod, looking aloof and brooding and wickedly handsome.

She ducked back into the kitchen and took cover there. She must stop getting all woozy around someone who had pushed her away and saw her as nothing but a captive. Stupid, stupid. She scolded herself as she heard the refrigerator turn on and an electric water heater popped in a closet. Modern conveniences, finally. She decided she’d wait for the water to heat up while she shed her wet socks and rolled up the hem of her damp pants.

Next she explored the refrigerator. Hardly anything there; only a few bars of cheese and two bottles of wine. Bags of French fries and frozen steaks filled up the freezer. Even though the electricity had been off, the two-inch layer of frost encompassing the freezer had kept the bags frozen solid. She guessed Kane hunted his own food in the nearby woods when he came here. In seniph form he would be the ultimate predator. The vegetarian in her frowned at the thought.

She gave up on the refrigerator and dug deeply into the cabinets. Her plunder consisted of coffee, granola, a box of Pop-Tarts, some instant powdered milk and beef jerky, along with cans of tuna fish, caviar, hash, beans, Vienna sausages and beef stew. On the side of a cabinet, she discovered a whole wine rack filled with Van Cleave wines. They had a pretty wheat-colored label with black lettering. She read the labels: Merlot, Rosé,
Zinfandel, Chardonnay, Blackberry, Blueberry and Pear. If she were a wine connoisseur, the offerings might have impressed her. The strongest thing she drank was herbal tea. Sad, her life was so boring.

She wished she had found a stash of chocolate milk or hot chocolate. Now, that would have excited her. Nothing really appetizing was here, but she could make something out of it.

She put the coffee on and searched for glasses and plates. That’s when she felt a presence. She whipped around to find Kane standing right behind her.

She jumped and said, “Good golly, you scared the life out of me.” She noticed he wasn’t standing straight. His shoulders were hunched a little, his expression a tableau of repressed pain as he tried to look all macho and threatening. He hadn’t put on his shirt, either. The fact she couldn’t drag her eyes away from his tanned body scared her much more than the actual act of him sneaking up on her.

“Did I?” His mercurial green eyes sharpened on her as he leaned against the door jamb.

“You shouldn’t be up.”

“I wondered what you were doing in here.” He watched her like a bored cat watched a mouse.

“I told you.”

All pretense of polite interest slipped from his face, and his eyes narrowed with an aggressive, deadly glint. “Something happened to you outside. What?”

“Nothing happened.”

“It did. I smell the fear on you. I smelled it when you walked into the cabin.”

Boy, there was no concealing anything from that feline sniffer of his. It could be a problem. “I—I—” she floundered for a lie “—saw a bobcat.”

He stepped over to her, blocking her way. “And it frightened you?”

“Yes.” Nina noticed he had trapped her against the sink. Her head barely reached his chest, and all she could see was his burly upper torso, the golden hair there peeking out the top of the bandage.

“You said you can communicate with all creatures. Can’t you just send the bobcat away?” He stepped closer, inches from her. Heat radiated from his body felt like a luscious wood stove that had just been stoked.

She found herself wanting to crawl into that heat and let it warm her all over. “If they are alive, I have to touch them to control them. It could get tricky with a bobcat.” She heard the tremor in her own voice, even as adrenaline soared through her veins. It made her light-headed, and her breaths were hardly more than pants. The pull of his magnetism ran unhindered inside her.

“So, you can touch animals and control them?” His mouth lifted in a sneer of a grin.

“That’s right.” She nodded.

“But not me.”

“No, not you for some reason.” She flexed her fingers, wishing she could bend him to her will.

“Can you also kill an animal with your power?” His eyes took on a sadistic gleam as they sharpened on her face.

This was a touchy subject that she didn’t want to explore with him, so she said, “Why do you ask?”

“I need to know where we stand.”

“You needn’t worry that I’ll harm you.”

“Unless, of course, I stand in your way of something. Now answer my question, does your power kill?”

“Okay, okay.” She threw up her hands. “Yes, I have stopped animals’ hearts before, but only if they are near death and in pain. If it’s in my power to help, I can’t let them suffer. I can feel their anguish,” she said, feeling a dam of emotions break in her. Angry tears filled her eyes. “I just can’t drive by an animal hit by a car and left on the side of the road to suffer. So, yes, I end their torment. Is that what you wanted to hear? I don’t go around killing for the pleasure of it.” She felt tears streaming down her cheeks and couldn’t believe she’d grown so angry. She never yelled at anyone. But he had made her feel as if she had to justify her power to him. She’d never admit she remained depressed for days and stayed longer in the Quiet Place after a road stop.

“Thank you for being honest,” he said, his voice almost contrite. He raised a hand to touch her arm.

She leaped back and watched an indifferent veil fall over his expression. “Don’t touch me.” She swiped at the tears with her sleeve and said, “I have to be honest, but you’re not. Seems one-sided to me.”

“What do you want to know?” he asked, his harsh mask in place.

“Why are you protecting the gleaner?” Nina pressed him with unflinching eye contact. She wasn’t about to let him skirt the issue as he’d done last time.

His brows narrowed and he ran his hands through
his golden hair, shoving it back from his face. Finally he said, “He’s my brother.”

She digested the information and asked, “That’s why you couldn’t kill him?”

Kane’s fists clenched in irritation. “Yes.”

“It’s nice you care for your brother, but surely you know he can’t go on killing innocents. A gleaner is the worst creature imaginable. Evil personified.”

“I know that, but we’re family. We share the same blood,” Kane said, his voice escalating. “I’ll send him to a place where he can’t hurt anyone.”

“He kills humans to survive. He’s a parasite.”

“Not to me. And there are sick humans who wish to die. They come to him for help.”