POSSESSION

by

Linda Mooney

WHISKEY CREEK PRESS

www.whiskeycreekpress.com

Published by

WHISKEY CREEK PRESS

Whiskey Creek Press

PO Box 51052

Casper, WY 82605-1052

www.whiskeycreekpress.com

Copyright Ó 2011 by Linda Mooney

Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 (five) years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

ISBN 978-1-60313-954-0

Credits

Cover Artist: Kendra Egert

Editor: Fran Mathieson

Printed in the United States of America

WHAT THEY ARE SAYING ABOUT

FROM OUT OF THE SHADOWS

“This was a very well written novel and it had me on the edge of my seat the entire time I was reading it. The love scenes were sensual, erotic and just graphic enough for me to be able to imagine what it would be like to have Croat make love to me. I really enjoyed From Out of the Shadows and would not hesitate to read another story by the author of such an enchanting story.”

Happily Ever After Reviews

WHAT THEY ARE SAYING ABOUT

RUNNER’S MOON BOOK 4: CHALLA

“Wow! Runner’s Moon: Challa Book 4 has to be one of the best science fiction romances I’ve had the pleasure of reading this year!”

Coffee Time Romance

“Challa is one of those books you just can’t put down, but of course it is; it’s a Linda Mooney book! Like everything she writes, this story is captivating from beginning to end, but then, frankly I think Ms. Mooney could draw you into a scene about taking out the garbage. She’s just that kind of writer. Her plots are riveting, and she makes you feel her characters, right down to their toenails.”

Two Lips Reviews

WHAT THEY ARE SAYING ABOUT

THUNDER SERIES

“In this reviewer’s humble opinion, no one writes more touching, heartfelt romances (like Wings of Thunder) than Linda Mooney. She can haul you right into the story and make you feel her characters’ desires, happiness, passion and sadness better than any author I’ve ever read.”

Two Lips Reviews

Fallen Angel Reviews Recommended Read

“The powerful and sensual sex scenes between Annie and Rion (in Passion of Thunder) add a deep, abounding passion to their devoted relationship. Rion's commitment to Annie drew me to him more than any fictional hero ever has.”

Fallen Angel Reviews

“I will never look at a thunderstorm quite the same again. Lord of Thunder isn’t just a play on words; it describes the main character of this fascinating new novel by Linda Mooney. A story of strength, determination, and love told with characters as rich as the Montana setting. Raw, intense and satisfying, are words that both describe the story and the romance. Reading Linda’s work is an escape like no other. Reading romance, always a guilty pleasure has now become a real joy!”

Renee’s Book Talk, Blog Talk Radio

Two Lips Reviews Recommended Read

“I devoured this book, alternately smiling and shedding tears along the way. I guarantee that readers will want to read this book over and over again.”

Two Lips Reviews

WHAT THEY ARE SAYING ABOUT

MY STRENGTH, MY POWER, MY LOVE

“The premise of this Science Fiction / Romance novel caught me off guard. I was blown away and completely enamored with the idea. Linda Mooney takes you on a beautiful journey to the stars and beyond. She has a wonderful ability for writing stunningly beautiful scenes and the expertise for making an emotional connection through her characters. She is a talented and powerful writer and I highly recommend My Strength, My Power, My Love. It is a necessary read for all lovers of science fiction or romance.”

Renee’s Book Talk, Blog Talk Radio

WHAT THEY ARE SAYING ABOUT

HEARTCRYSTAL

“Linda Mooney has done a top notch job of world building.  You get a story that will make you laugh a little but mostly it will twist your heartstrings to pieces. You may want to keep a box of Kleenex nearby while reading (HeartCrystal).”

The Romance Studio

WHAT THEY ARE SAYING ABOUT

HEARTFAST

PNR Reviewer Top Pick

“(HeartFast is) Well worth the time to read - which won’t be too long, as you won’t be able to put it down!”

ParaNormalRomance Reviews

WHAT THEY ARE SAYING ABOUT

SANDEFLAY

Outstanding Read

“(Sandeflay is a) Great book, a definite keeper.”

Simply Romance Reviews

“Sandeflay is an absolutely stunning read by Ms. Mooney.”

Romance Junkies

WHAT THEY ARE SAYING ABOUT

RUNNER’S MOON SERIES

Joyfully Recommended

“Fantastic Sci-Fi story is the first thing that comes to mind when I tell people about (Runner’s Moon book 3) Simolif.”

Joyfully Reviewed

“Go, Ms. Mooney, Go. I am thoroughly intrigued by the species she has invented and am hooked on reading how they adapt to the human race and lifestyles (in Runner’s Moon: Tiron book 2).”

Joyfully Reviewed

“Be warned, though. If you have not read the first book yet, odds are you will want to after reading (Runner’s Moon: Tiron book 2).”

Coffee Time Romance

Top Pick Recommended Read

“Runner’s Moon: Jebaral (book 1)...is an exciting and passionate romance that leaves you anxiously waiting for the next book in the series.”

Romance Reader at Heart

Other Books by Author Available at Whiskey Creek Press:

www.whiskeycreekpress.com

Runner’s Moon Book 1: Jebaral

Runner’s Moon Book 2: Tiron

Runner’s Moon Book 3: Simolif

Runner’s Moon Book 4: Challa

Sandeflay

HeartFast

HeartCrystal

My Strength, My Power, My Love

Lord of Thunder

Passion of Thunder

Wings of Thunder

From Out of the Shadows

Rhea 41070

A Different Yesterday

Dedication

For Nancy

Prologue

One month ago

The attack was swift and relentlessly brutal.

“Cop! The guy’s a cop!”

The words rang like doom overhead as he heard the screams reverberate louder than the warning inside the big building. And then he dimly realized the screams were his.

He tried to get up on his knees. Tried to raise his hands to ward off any more pounding blows from the length of iron rod that rained down upon him. Beating his flesh into jellied pulp, and shredding his skin and muscle from the bone with every downward slash. But rain was pouring into his eyes, mixed with his blood and…

More blood. He was on his knees, on a concrete slab, and his life’s sustenance was running like a river overflowing its banks.

Pain was in every movement. There was more screaming, and this time he knew it wasn’t his. The killer or killers had gone on to other game.

Falling forward, he was vaguely aware of his face hitting the cement. There was practically no feeling left in his body. Every nerve had been beaten into submission. Into numb, weightless submission. He couldn’t even feel his hands or fingers anymore to reach for the small snub nose he’d tucked into his boot.

The attack had come from nowhere. Where was he? Who was attacking them?

For the only time in his life he felt sorry for the bastards who had dragged him in here, thinking they were going to be his judge, jury, and executioner. It had to be their wet, gurgling screams he heard above the steady whipping noises.

He couldn’t open his eyes. Even if he could, the place was black as a tomb. Somehow he knew he was in a warehouse. An abandoned, dilapidated one, if he could feel the rain splatter over him from overhead.

The mushy sounds of the beatings continued, but the screams had stopped. Quietly he remained where he lay like a broken doll. He was growing cold, but there was no way he could find a warmer place. A safer place.

After what seemed like hours the bludgeoning ceased. There was no sound, not even the raspy breathing of whoever had done this carnage. The guy had to be pumped full of adrenaline. After beating three guys into dog food, the man had to be gasping for air. But there was nothing. The place was so quiet, he could hear a soft rumble of thunder in the distance.

And then the guy was there, standing next to him, over him. His boots crackled on the gritty cement floor.

“You were not to be. You are not one of them,” a dark growl said. The timbre was smooth and unhurried. Tearing into three grown, heavily armed men, and reducing them to little more than roadkill, and the guy was as calm and unaffected as if he’d just gotten up from a nap.

The killer poked at him with the rod. There was no pain.

“You were a mistake,” the growl told him. “You were not to be.”

Well, it’s a bit late to discover that, don’t you think? he wanted to answer. But he couldn’t. His skull must have been caved in. There had to be bits of his brain matter speckling the floor around him.

“Gotta fix you.”

Oh, yeah? How?

The killer walked away, heavy tread echoing in the empty building, until—

Suddenly the steps were gone. Disappeared. Which was impossible. There hadn’t been the sound of a car door, or a maintenance door, or even the crunch of feet upon dirt and gravel to let him know which way the man had gone.

The rain started up once more, sending cool droplets down on him.

He was dying. Death was a quiet blanket hovering over him, ready to descend, ready to envelope him, ready to claim him. It would be a welcome respite from the unrelenting agony.

One unfocused eye managed to open, his final glance upon the world.

Far, far away there was a tiny incandescence, like a single candle flame. Oh, great. Now the guy’s going to torch the place. It would be his last coherent thought.

A breath later, Detective Kiel Stark was dead.

Chapter 1

Monday

Sam found his partner and roommate sitting in the recliner next to the picture window in the living room. In the morning sun Kiel appeared unusually pale and transparent, making Sam wonder what the problem might be, as if he couldn’t already tell. Kiel had that look that often meant something was weighing heavily on his mind.

“Yo. Good morning. How’s it hanging?” Not waiting for an answer, Sam followed his nose into the kitchen where a fresh pot of coffee was ready. He poured himself a cup as the man came up behind him.

“You look like shit,” Kiel announced heavily.

Sam smiled. “Coming from you, I’ll take that as a compliment. I’m not going to even ask if you’ve arrived at any Sherlockian conclusions, since the expression on your face hasn’t changed since yesterday.”

Stretching his arms over his head, Kiel slowly let out a sigh. “In all my years in homicide, I can’t remember ever facing a case where there weren’t any clues. Not a freakin’ one! We can’t even figure out what the freakin’ murder weapon was!” He growled softly and stomped out of the kitchen, leaving Sam to eat his meager breakfast of Pop-Tarts alone, before going back to the bedroom to get dressed.

The conversation slash discussion slash rant continued on their drive over to the station. “I must’ve gone over the details a hundred times.” Slapping the folder in his lap, Kiel finally ceased and sat back to watch the scenery go by. In front of him the police radio chattered almost inaudibly, although their ears would quickly catch their I.D. if it was called.

The sky couldn’t have been any grayer or sicklier looking than it was that morning. And on a Monday, no less. Not taking into account the rain that continued to drizzle in one section of the city and pour in another. With their luck, it would be pouring at the station.

He chanced a sideways glance at his partner. As always, the man looked impeccable, pushing Sam’s jealousy factor up another notch. “Where’d you get the suit?” he inquired, just to break the monotonous quiet.

“I saw an ad for it at Makes-the-Man.”

Sam whistled softly. “So what does a suit like that go for? Five hundred?” He caught Kiel giving him a weary smile.

“You don’t wanna know.”

“Bet the tie and shirt alone is almost a week’s pay.”

“If you’re trying to take my mind off the case, it’s not working.”

“Suit yourself,” Sam quipped. Throwing a glance back at the other man, he met Kiel’s eyes, and waggled his eyebrows. Seconds later they were both laughing at the bad joke. It was enough to break the tension their case had been putting on them, and by the time they arrived at the station, both men were in a better frame of mind to tackle the details afresh.

Twenty-four/seven, three hundred sixty-five, the main police station on Aaron Street looked like New York’s Grand Central Station for the dregs of humanity. It didn’t matter what time of the day or night, day of the week, or even the month of the year. One could find both blue-collar and white-collar crime being bundled up, cuffed, arraigned, bailed out, or any number of procedures, which caused them to be paraded back and forth from holding cell, to interrogation room, to booking. If it weren’t for clocks and calendars no one would be able to tell one minute from the next.

Sam parked his thermos on top of his desk while Kiel tossed the case folder on the desk across from his. Before either had a chance to drop their butts into their chairs, Lieutenant Owen Random signaled for them to join him. Silently they followed the man into their boss’ office.

“Did either of you two geniuses come up with any possibilities?” the captain inquired right off the bat. The wrinkled shirt and crooked tied was evidence that the man had been at work a lot longer than they had.

Kiel shook his head by way of an answer.

Sam went a step further to add a despondent, “No.”

“I thought not. Which is why I’ve decided to go a bit off the path and try an unorthodox route.” Captain Jordan Redd reached underneath a stack of file folders sitting to one side on his desk, and extracted a bright green one. The fact that it was a colored folder immediately attracted everyone’s attention. All cases were handled in the plain manila variety, but only very exclusive ones were given the color option.

Green was the captain’s personal choice for outside help. And in many circumstances, for those sources who often worked outside police jurisdiction.

They watched as the man picked up his phone and punched in a number he found inside the folder. “J Laurent, please. Yes, Miss Laurent. My name is Captain Jordan Redd. I’m in charge of homicide here at the Aaron Street Station, yes.” His eyes swiveled over to the two detectives watching him from the other side of the room. “Yes, ma’am, it is.” He paused again to listen. “Yes, I will. I’m sending over the two detectives assigned to that case. They’ll be able to fill you in on the details and take you over to the site for you to examine. Yes. Yes, that’s right. All right. Thank you, Miss Laurent. Appreciate any bone you can toss us.” He hung up as he muttered a soft expletive under his breath. “Wish I knew how she does that.” Glancing back up, he laced his fingers together and placed both hands on top of his desk. “All right. Miss Laurent has agreed to help us. Stark, you and Reese get over to her place and be sure to give her everything she asks for. Take her anyplace she needs to go. Got that?”

Kiel nodded, raising a finger for attention. “Who is this Laurent woman? A profiler? Or what?”

Captain Redd made a face before taking a deep breath. “She’s a…it’s hard to explain. She calls herself a seer.”

“A seer?” Sam snorted. “You mean a psychic?”

“Oh, Geez, Captain. You want us to babysit a psychic? Why not just get out the Ouija board while we’re at it?” Kiel propped his feet up on the rim of the trash can beside the captain’s desk.

Sam opened his mouth to say more, but the expression on Redd’s face stopped him cold.

“Listen, you two. You’ve had over a week to pop the zit on this case, and you’ve got nothing to show for it. Personally, I’m just as leery about bringing in this woman, but I’m sitting at a crossroads. I’ve got the head honchos at central demanding information to feed the public out there. I have five dead bodies down at the morgue, with no clue as to who killed them, or with what. And I have somebody still out there probably getting ready to do in victim number six.”

Leaning over his desk toward the men, he dropped his voice slightly. “You men know Captain Lucius over at the Sender Street Station, correct?”

Kiel nodded for the both of them.

“Remember the Milkman Murders?”

This time both men nodded. The Milkman Murders had occurred four years ago. Four women, all housewives, had been found viciously strangled in their kitchens. The victims, as well as the floors, had all been covered in spilt milk. There had been no signs of a break-in. To all intents, it appeared as if the victims had voluntarily opened their doors to the killer. The press had dubbed the maniac the Milkman. With hardly anything to go by, and with nothing to tie the apparently randomly picked victims together, the police had been at a loss as to who was responsible.

“Lucius called this woman in, and she gave them enough information to tag Wrightson as the most likely suspect.” Less than a week later, Wrightson had confessed, but by that time plenty of evidence had been confiscated from the man’s apartment to tie him to all four crimes. The man had gotten the death penalty.

“How come we’ve never heard of this Laurent woman before?” Kiel asked.

“She didn’t start offering her services until five years ago,” Random interjected. Lifting his lanky frame off the filing cabinets, he walked over to the other side of the captain’s desk. “She first contacted the commissioner back then. From what I’ve heard, she told him a few things about his childhood that convinced him she was the real deal.”

Redd picked up. “She’s been working for us, for the police, ever since then, but very covertly. Very undercover. She doesn’t want the press to get wind of her. She prefers her privacy and anonymity. So whatever you two do, make sure it’s unobserved. Got me?”

“And you’re going to take her word on anything she hands you?” Kiel questioned.

The same half-grin appeared on both the captain’s and lieutenant’s faces. “Just wait,” Random told him. “Give yourselves an hour, and you won’t be disbelieving anymore.”

Sam blew a raspberry. “I don’t believe in mediums or spiritualists. I don’t believe in psychics. And I don’t believe she’s going to convince me otherwise in an hour’s time.”

Chuckling, Captain Redd leaned back in his chair. “You haven’t given me squat in a week’s time. One day with this woman isn’t going to do more harm than good. Here.” Closing the green folder, he tossed it at Kiel. “If she doesn’t give you anything viable by tonight, you have my permission to send her on her way. Fair deal?”

The two detectives got to their feet.

“One day?” Sam repeated, just to be sure.

Random nodded. “But if she does give you a bone, run with it.”

“Captain?”

“Yeah, Stark?”

“How many cases has she worked on?”

Redd gestured toward the folder. “It’s all in there. Read it, and then if you still have any questions, I’ll do my best to answer them. Now get going. She’s waiting for you.”

* * * *

J lowered the receiver back into its cradle. Chewing her lower lip, she started up the stairs to her bedroom to change out of the shorts and t-shirt she was wearing. With two detectives on their way over she needed to wear something a bit more subtle. Something with a little drab attached to it so as not to draw any attention to herself.

Something she could hopefully hide behind.

Reaching her bedroom door at the top of the stairs, her ears caught the sound of the radio she’d left on in the downstairs parlor. She kept it on almost constantly when she was awake. It drowned out the silence in the big old Victorian style home where she’d grown up. A home where she was now the sole owner and occupant.

Vaguely she listened with one ear to the news as she searched the closet for appropriate attire. Her hands landed on a simple dove-gray shift she liked. Taking it out of the closet, she added the blue-and-gray patterned silk scarf that went with it. Quickly she changed.

She knew they would be calling her. She also knew why they needed her help. The only thing that eluded her was time. She had never been able to put her finger right on exact times, just relative ones like today or last week, or two years from now. Which was why she tried so damn hard to make sure that whatever she “saw” was as accurate as she could explain it.

Details like men’s faces, buildings and locations—these things she could handle well enough. They were easy to describe to the police artist. J prided herself on the fact that she could break down everything that came to her into minute adjectives, right down to the feel of rough cotton gloves over the skin, or the burn of harsh summer sunlight coming through a window.

Sighing, J dumped her dirty clothes into the hamper in the bathroom before returning to her bedroom. Brushing her thick hair into a ponytail, she quickly rolled it into a bun at the back of her neck and pinned it. A quick spritz of hairspray would keep the baby-fine hairs from flying into her face. Satisfied, she pulled the scarf over her head and went downstairs to wait for the detectives to arrive.

She debated whether or not to leave the radio on. Sometimes she needed to hear its impersonal voice when she walked up the porch steps to the front door. It sounded like someone still lived there.

Not that J didn’t like the solitude. She truly valued her aloneness at times. The last thing she needed was to have a roommate who would leave stuff scattered thither and yon, as her grandmama had referred to it, and become more of a bother than a comfortable second presence in the house.

No, it was better to be able to find things exactly where she’d left them. To know that if anything got broken or disturbed, it was her fault alone. To know that every phone call and every piece of mail that came to the house was just for her.

It also helped when some of the visions came to her, some of them so fierce and terrifying that she’d wake up screaming. On those nights the noise would not awaken anyone else.

Better, it was good to be alone where no one would criticize her. Or tease her about her ability. Or rail at her for some of the things she saw, if she happened to mention them by accident.

Thank the dear Lord Grandmama had understood.

They will be here soon.

J smiled. Okay, that was a given, she told the little voice inside her head that spoke to her. Still, soon was another time-related word. It could mean ten minutes from now, or a couple of days from now. How far was it to the Aaron Street Station? Not far, if she remembered correctly. Roughly fifteen to twenty minutes away, if they managed to catch all the lights green.

This would be the first time she’d worked with the captain over at Aaron Street. In the past she had worked on two cases for the downtown station on Sender, and two for the Vickers County Sheriff’s Department. Four cases in all as herself, and three others where she’d phoned in tips to the hotline before she had been able to gather up enough courage to present herself in person.

A shudder ran through her. J ran a nervous hand over her shift to make sure the dress wasn’t too wrinkled. She went into the kitchen for a drink of water, hoping it would help to calm her. The first meeting always went badly. It would take the men a while to accept her, and a bit more time to accept whatever it was she had to tell them. She hated these first encounters, but she had no choice if she wanted to continue doing what she did.

It wasn’t as if she needed the money. No. After her family had been killed in that car accident, the same one that had nearly taken her life as well, she found out that her father had invested well over the years. Mostly in electronics. Gas. Some Internet stocks. A few shares of a global telecommunications company that hit it big with cell phones. She wasn’t rich by any means, but the dividends alone were enough keep her living comfortably for the rest of her life.

Her grandmama had taken her in and raised her. J vaguely remembered the house where she used to live, back when her parents were still alive. It was a one-story affair, but she had been six when the accident had taken it all away from her. Even before her grandmother died and left her this house.

Grandmama had owned the Victorian home she loved to visit. She adored the smell of the place, with its cedar closets, and ages-old bedding and clothing stashed in the trunks in the attic. She could spend hours playing dress up. So when Grandmama had asked if she wanted to live there, J had embraced the woman with hope and tears. Grandmama knew of her specialness, and there were many times J and the elderly woman had sat in the kitchen over cups of tea, discussing her ability. Grandmama had never criticized nor condemned her for what she’d been born with.

Faintly her ears caught the sound of a car entering the gravel driveway. Wiping her sweaty palms on her thighs, she went to wait in the foyer.

No, she took the jobs because she couldn’t stand by any longer with this knowledge in her head and not share it with anyone. For years she had “seen” the cruelties inflicted upon others, most of them innocents. It wasn’t until that small boy had been abducted that she had screwed up her courage and called in to the tip line to leave the first of many messages she would later phone in. Back then her payoff had been to hear that the guilty had been nabbed, tried, and sentenced. That had been her ultimate satisfaction.

Until the Milkman murders.

A cold finger ran its icy nail up her spine. It had taken everything out of her to approach the police in person because her gift had screamed that she needed to view the scenes. She had to go there and relive every brutal blow. After putting herself through that ordeal, the information she had given the authorities had been enough to have them put a tail on Leander Wrightson. Unaware he had been fingered, the man had merrily gone about his business, only to find the law waiting for him when he entered the kitchen of intended victim number five.

After the jury pronounced him guilty, J had been handed a check for a thousand dollars. She had never taken money before, even when her calls to the tip line paid off. It wasn’t a lot of money, but she had accepted it. She had put it in a special savings account. Why, she didn’t know. It was one of those time issues again. Some day down the road she would need that money. Her inheritance was enough to keep the house and property in her name. Enough to pay the taxes and the bills. To put food on the table and clothes on her back.

This extra, it would be needed for something else. And long ago J had come to accept whatever the voices in her head told her, no questions asked. After that first job, she had taken anything the police offered in payment as long as it was at least a thousand dollars. She didn’t balk if they offered her more, but she wouldn’t take less than a grand. Again, she had no idea why.

The doorbell rang. It was one of those old-time chimes that sounded like a clock striking the hour. Grandmama said the tune was called Church Bells Will Ring. The house was full of odd nuances like that.

Pasting on her best smile, J opened the door, and hoped the detectives coming to get her hadn’t already formed a permanent opinion about her.

* * * *

“Friggin’ hell! Can you believe it? A psychic!”

Sam glanced sideways at his partner. The scowl on the man’s face looked permanent. “Chill, bro. No judging until we get there, okay?”

Silence flowed past them, as well as the scenery. Apparently this woman lived in the older part of town. Either she was from old money, or she was a sitting duck for the dregs of humanity. Not a good choice, either way.

He glanced again at the man sitting in the passenger seat. One thing Kiel was never good at was disguising his emotions. “Hey, don’t worry. If you can fool a precinct full of experienced cops, this woman won’t be able to figure it out, either. So chill. Put on your best homicide detective guise, and I’ll do most of the talking.” He made a motion toward the folder in the man’s lap. “What did you find out?”

Kiel snorted. “Not a helluva lot personally. But she’s been instrumental in at least seven cases, three voluntarily and four by request.”

“Any idea how she works?”

“Works?”

“Yeah. Like, does she roll her eyes back into her head and go into a coma, and act as if she’s possessed? Does she use a crystal ball or some of them Tarot cards? Or does she hear little voices in her head telling her who’s guilty?”

“You’re nuts.” Kiel sneered.

“Yeah? Well, have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?” Sam shot right back. Several long seconds passed, when Sam shook his head. “Sorry, Kiel. I went over the line.”

“No. It’s understandable.” The man snorted again. “There isn’t a person alive who can say that what we’re having to go through is normal.”

“Alive or dead.” Sam tried to smile over his bad pun, but failed. “Twenty-one twelve. Was that the address?”

“Yeah. Oh, wow.”

“Yeah. Wow.”

Their first impression of the old house was awe. Someone had taken the time, trouble, and money to keep it looking almost as it must have appeared when it had first been built. Right down to the gingerbread scrollwork and handcarved wooden balustrades and porch railings. Overall it was a bright, sunny yellow with warm brownish trim. A profusion of sunflowers overflowed in the flowerbeds. A white rocking chair with a red-checked cushion moved lazily at the end of the porch. The place look appealing and inviting. As friendly and inviting as a step back in time.

“How old is this Laurent woman?”

Kiel flipped open the folder. “Doesn’t say.”

“I got five bucks that says she could be our grandma.”

“I’m not taking that bet, Sam. Why else would she need an escort back to the station? She can’t drive. Probably doesn’t even own a car.”

They pulled into the gravel driveway. At that instant they were faced with what was left of the garage. “It’s a greenhouse,” Kiel stated the obvious.

“Yeah. Probably uses it to grow the herbs she needs to concoct her potions and stuff.”

Kiel snickered.

They got out of the car and followed the brick walkway to the porch. Taking the short steps to the front door, Sam raised his hand to knock on the door. But before he could complete the gesture, the door opened. Both men did a mental and physical step back.

The woman was covered so completely, only her face was visible. Oh, but what a face. It was the face of a world-class model. Young, with perfect angles and not a blemish to be seen. Lightly arched brows were the color of caramels. She was wearing a shapeless shift in a bluish-gray color. A scarf in similar shades was tied over her head, hiding the rest of her hair. But that face, those ripe lips…and those eyes.

Kiel was the first to speak. “Hello. I’m Detective Stark. Will you please let Miss Laurent know my partner and I are here?”

The lovely woman stared at him as a frown slowly darkened the perfect face. Kiel realized with a start that she wore a pale gloss over her full lips. Otherwise her face was bare of makeup. More amazing were her eyes. They were hazel in color, except for the outer edges which were brown. Very unusual. Very arresting.

“Who?” she repeated.

Kiel paused. Was she asking who they were? Or who they had come to get? He decided to try again. Reaching inside his jacket, he produced his bifold and flipped it open to show her his ID and badge. “We’re Detectives Stark and Reese. We’re from the Aaron Street Station. Our captain sent us over to take Miss Laurent over to a crime scene. Will you let her know we’re here?”

“Who are you?”

His mouth felt dry. It was a feeling he wasn’t accustomed to. Even spookier was the definitely perplexed expression growing more pronounced on the woman’s countenance. He started to comment on it when Sam came up behind him.

“Would you tell your mother we’re here?”

The woman’s gaze shifted immediately over to Sam. Quietly she replied, “The name is pronounced ‘Leh-rahnt’. And my mother died twenty years ago.” Her mouth drew into a thin line. “I’m J Laurent. I’m the person Captain Redd phoned to ask for help.”

“You live here alone?” Sam asked.

Her gaze shifted from Sam back to Kiel, and the perplexed look increased. “Who are you?” she repeated.

“I’m Detec—”

“I know what you’re saying,” she abruptly cut in. “Maybe I’m not making myself clear. Maybe I should be asking what are you?”

Sam glanced at his partner to see the man grow pale. It shocked him. “Miss Laurent, is there a problem?”

Instead of answering, she stuck a hand out in Kiel’s direction, fingers spread. “Let me touch you,” she ordered. Demanded.

At that moment both men understood the truth.

J Laurent was blind.

Steeling himself, Kiel walked toward her and held out a hand. Sam held his breath as the woman’s fingers came in contact with his partner’s.

A stream of warmth flowed through him. The sensation was enough to make him jerk away. J tilted her head in his direction, but the puzzled look remained stamped on her beautiful features. Underneath the flawless complexion, her skin paled.

An uncomfortable silence passed between them until Sam cleared his throat and stepped forward to offer his arm. “Miss Laurent, we need to be going. Here. Let me help you to the car.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but decided not to. Reaching around, she closed the door, locked it, then stuffed the key in a side pocket of her dress. She placed a hand on Sam’s arm, and the three of them walked back to the car.

“Let me sit in the back,” she requested in a no-nonsense tone.

Sam looked at his partner, then nodded before opening the door to help her inside. Quietly the two men got into the front seat.

“We’re taking you directly to the scene of the crime,” Kiel began. His voice was quivering. In fact his whole body was still shaking from the contact. Her touching him for just those few seconds had felt like standing in front of a heater, with wave after wave of warmth washing over him. It had been a very long time since he’d felt that kind of warmth from another human being. Not even Sam gave him that kind of intense reaction.

“I would appreciate it if you would give me a direct answer,” J requested again. This time her tone was more derisive, and silently brooked no further delay.

Turning in his seat so he could look back at her, Kiel repeated, “You mean what am I? I’m a detective with the force. Homicide division.”

Her eyes seemed to bore straight through him, but their effect on him was even more pronounced. For the first time in the month since it had happened, Kiel Stark felt totally exposed and vulnerable. Extremely vulnerable.

And turned on.

Geez! Get a grip on yourself! You of all people can’t be feeling this!

But he was, and he was damned if he could understand why. Why? Why?

J chewed on her lower lip. Kiel could see her teeth were like little white pearls. A flash of desire stroked him, surprising him, and for once he was glad she couldn’t see the hunger he knew had to be in his eyes.

“That’s not what I mean, and you damn well know it.” Her head swiveled in Sam’s direction. “You, Detective, I have no problem with. But you.” She turned back to Kiel. “There’s something about you that’s throwing all my beliefs into a meat grinder and grinding them to bits. You have the aura, but I can touch you. What’s going on, Detective? You frighten me, and I don’t like this feeling. Not one bit. If I’m going to help you solve this case, we need to be upfront with each other, and now. Or else I’m going to have to call your captain back and tell him to send me two other men, or I’m bowing out.” She paused, and Kiel could hear her racing heart. He could also see her visibly attempting to slow down her breathing.

“I-I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do. You know you’re different from your partner there. What did you say your name was?”

“Stark. Kiel Stark.”

“And you?” she asked Sam.

“Sam Reese.”

Again she turned her head from one to the other, her eyes stable and unmoving, yet still mesmerizing. “You’re related.”

“Yeah,” Kiel admitted. “We’re half-brothers.”

A tiny ghost of a smile touched those full lips. “Different last names. You must share a mother.”

“How would you know we’re related?” Sam asked. They were nearing the feeder road which would take them straight to the main highway.

“You both have the same shape aura, but they’re different. If you were full brothers, your auras would be almost identical, except for their color.”

“What color is mine?” Kiel smiled.

She must have heard the amusement in his tone. “I don’t know how to explain color to you, Detective Stark, because I’ve been blind since birth. So the way I define color is nothing like your definition.” Once more the frown darkened her face, and her tone suddenly became harder. “But something isn’t right here, and I don’t like it. Detective Stark, is there a reason why your aura is full of light?”

He shrugged, then realized she couldn’t see it. “I thought auras were made of light anyway. Besides, how would you know about light if you’re blind?”

“Because my grandmama explained to me about light. It’s like the sun. Or the heat from a lamp, or a candle flame. I’ve felt all manner of heat, and that’s the kind that surrounds you. Lots of light and heat, bright and glowing. It’s not the same kind of aura normal people have, Detective.”

“Not like mine?” Sam piped up, glancing at her through the rearview mirror.

“No.” She shook her head slightly. “Normal people’s auras have their own color. Their own personal brightness, until they die. And then their auras make this unexplained flash of light, like a big burst of energy, before the aura fades and disappears.” Her sightless eyes seemed to reach into Kiel for the truth. “You’re not alive, but you’re not dead. You’re stuck somewhere in the middle, in the midst of that gigantic flash. You’re burning so brightly, you’re like this enormous beacon. But…but I touched you. I felt your hand.” Her voice grew softer. “Are you dead, Detective? Or do you have some sort of fatal disease which has you teetering on the edge of that abyss?”

“If you’re wanting to know if I’m dangerous, the answer is no,” Kiel began to explain slowly, when Sam broke in.

“This’ll have to wait, everyone. We’re here.”

* * * *

Kiel opened the car door for her, stopping himself just short of reaching out to take her arm. It was a gesture he normally would have thought nothing about a month ago. Fortunately Sam came around the back of the car and offered his arm to help guide her into the condemned apartment building. Still, he couldn’t help the little shiver that ran through him when J turned around to give him a sad look. If he didn’t know better, he would swear she had wanted to touch him again.

They broke the police barrier tape on the door and entered the building. The scene of the crime was on the third floor. Silently they took the stairs since power had been shut off to the building some time ago.

Keeping behind her, Kiel watched the way the woman’s backside swayed when she walked. It would have been nicer if there had been a bit more definition to that bottom, but her choice of attire did a better than average job of keeping her concealed. That dress shielded her femininity like a damn burqa.

“Anything yet?”

He saw her smile. “I’m soaking it all up like a sponge, Detective. Give me a bit longer to sort out the details.”

Kiel glanced up at Sam, who shot him back one of those be careful looks he saw too frequently these days.

They continued climbing until they reached the third landing. Kiel followed along behind them instead of going on ahead as he normally would. Whenever he and Sam were on a case, just the two of them, he could be a bit freer with his newfound abilities. This having to play it totally on the level was leaving an irksome taste in his mouth that he was surprised to discover he didn’t like. The woman was blind, for goodness sake!

Yeah, but she was also as sharp as a finely honed blade. Blindness, in this case, wasn’t her weakness. If he tried any one of his stunts, as Sam sometimes called them, Kiel knew the woman would call him out on them.

Pausing outside of apartment number 316, Sam gave him a nod to go ahead. Sounding a quick sigh, Kiel tore off the tape barring them from entering and gave the handle a little jiggle to make it sound like he was using a key to open the door. Then he quickly went through the steel partition, into the apartment, and unlocked the door from the other side. J wore a little smile but said nothing, and for a second he wondered if the woman was aware of the little trick he’d pulled. Mentally shrugging, Kiel decided not to say anything unless she brought it up first. They were here to investigate a triple homicide, not discuss the attributes of a man who had died over a month ago.

Sam clicked on his flashlight and quickly scanned the empty room. Both men watched as the woman stepped over the threshold, then paused. She dropped her hand from Sam’s arm to wrap both of her arms about her chest. Kiel realized the woman was cold, or at least shivering from something like cold. The impulse to put his own arms around her to stave off the chill was like an ache he couldn’t ignore, but he could fight it. Maybe because of her disability, J Laurent exuded defenselessness. But she also possessed a sense of calm strength he found intriguing.

Silently the detectives watched and waited for the seer to make a statement, allowing her to either prove or disprove their half-formed opinions about her. J took two steps into the room and stopped. She turned in a full circle as she continued to rub her arms against the chill, even though the temperature outside had to be hovering in the seventies.

“Three people died here,” she informed them.

Sam snorted. Kiel knew why. The news of the murders had been splashed all over the papers and television for the past week.

“They died the same way two others died.” She lifted her face in their direction. “You have two more bodies at the morgue who fit the same MO.”

Now that bit of information was something that hadn’t been released to the press. Nor was it common knowledge among the rest of the other investigators. Kiel felt a grin come over him as Sam’s eyebrows lifted a good half-inch.

J took another four steps into the room until she was facing the back wall of the living area. Turning slightly to her left, she indicated the back rooms with a lift of her chin. “Are the bedrooms there? I’m feeling something from that direction.”

“Damn,” Sam muttered under his breath.

Kiel concurred. The bodies had been found in the very last bedroom. Again, undisclosed information.

Normally he wouldn’t have given much credence to her findings. Nearly two-thirds of all homicides took place in the victim’s bedroom. Beds made a perfect stage for such horrors. But in this case all three victims had been slaughtered—and slaughtered was the only word Kiel could find to describe what he’d seen. All three had been found together in the back bedroom at around eight p.m. The coroner had put their deaths at approximately one in the afternoon. Which begged the question: What would three grown men be doing in a back bedroom at one o’clock in the middle of a weekday?

“Detective Stark, would you show me the way, please?”

He started. She seemed to feel his reluctance, and held out a hand that trembled slightly.

“Please?” she reiterated, waiting.

He gave his brother a little nod, and Sam tried to slip in.

J immediately lifted her hand. A scowl crossed her features. “Don’t ever try to do that again,” she admonished Sam darkly. “The difference I see between you and your brother is as obvious as dark and light to me.” She looked straight at Kiel. “I have my reasons for wanting you to guide me back there.”

Giving himself a moment to collect himself, Kiel walked over and held out an arm.

He thought he had prepared himself for her contact. He thought he could handle her touch this second time. How wrong he was.

He saw her hand descend upon the sleeve of his jacket. Saw it. Felt it. And his whole body seemed to melt from the warm summer breeze blowing over him. Through him. Smelling sweetly scented like flowers in a meadow.

Closing his eyes, he could remember days from his childhood when he would climb the huge cottonwood in his backyard and sit up there for hours reading a book. Reading, napping, and letting the sun and wind flow over him. It was his most favorite childhood memory.

It all came back to him now. The memory. The feel. The smell. And, most of all, the sense of utter peacefulness it had given him.

And then it was gone. J’s fingers tightened slightly over his arm. Without thinking, Kiel placed his other hand over hers to help steady her nerves. It was like holding a warm rose.

Slowly they walked down the narrow hallway, passing the second bedroom and bath, until they reached the back bedroom. It was pitch black, but Kiel could see his way as clearly as if it was daylight. J, of course, wouldn’t know any difference. They paused in the doorway as if he instinctively knew she would hesitate there.

He kept his eyes on her face, on the expressions he saw flit across her skin and the surface of her eyes. She flinched twice, and her smooth skin appeared to grow paler.

Suddenly she took a step back, and her fear was a taste of acid that jolted him. “Kiel. It’s still here,” she whispered hoarsely.

“What’s still here?”

“That thing.”

“What thing?”

She turned, pulling and tugging on him. “Get me out of here,” she begged. “Get me out of this place! We gotta go!”

He ventured a quick look back at the now sterilized bedroom before taking her back into the living room, but it wasn’t enough. J had to be removed to the hallway before she stopped shivering. This time he didn’t think twice before putting an arm around her shoulder.

Warm summer days. The hint of jasmine in the air. Bright blue skies and clouds shaped like animal crackers.

Kiel had never wanted to bury his face against a woman as badly as he wanted to at that moment. Bury himself along her soft skin and hold her. Protect her.

Lifting her face, J sniffed loudly and pulled out a tissue from her pocket to blow her nose. “I’m sorry,” she apologized in a low voice. “It got to me back there.”

“What got to you?” Sam asked on the other side. They were leaning against the hallway wall, just outside the apartment.

“The way those people died.” She looked over at Sam. “The room may have been cleaned and disinfected, but you’ll never be able to remove the taint that will haunt that place forever.”

Giving her shoulder a little squeeze, Kiel gently asked, “How did they die, Miss Laurent?”

Her face went even paler. “They were stabbed to death. No. More like punctured to death. Afterwards, their bodies were shredded. That one man, the one you found inside the closet, he didn’t die until he was torn apart.”

Both men felt shock go through their systems. Kiel believed he was long past feeling anything, but her words, and the feel of her shudder beneath his hand, gave him an overpowering sense of revulsion.

“The weapon, Miss Laurent. Can you give us a clue as to what was used as the weapon?”

Good old Sam. He looked ready to spew, but he was determined to find out the specifics.

“A-a piece of, umm, a piece of metal. About this long.” She held out her hands approximately eighteen inches apart. “Round, like a pipe, but without the hole inside. It was solid, like a gigantic piece of spaghetti. Oh, and it had curves on it. Grooves. If I felt one, I would recognize it.”

Kiel wracked his brain for a weapon fitting her description. Of course, it was highly possible the killer had used an unorthodox weapon. Something other than a knife or tool.

“Can you tell us anything about the killer?”

“Yeah. You’re not going to like my answer, either.” Taking a deep, ragged breath, J told them, “The man you’re looking for is dead, just like you, Detective Stark.”

* * * *

God, she felt dirty. Filthy, slimy dirty, right through to the marrow of her bones. At any moment she felt as if she was going to heave, and it was by sheer force of will that she kept her lips pressed tightly together and prayed she didn’t. Otherwise it would make her appear weak in front of these detectives. It would make him think the worst of her. Like maybe she wasn’t cut out to do this kind of work. That she was no better than those other weak-willed women he had dated in the past.

He squeezed her shoulder again, and all the blood rushed to her feet. Terror like a huge, velvet hammer came out of nowhere and began pounding at her skull. She tried to call out but her body had stopped functioning.

Dimly she was aware of him picking her up, and a heartbeat later she was outside where she could breathe again. Breathe in and out the clean air as he held her hand and called her name.

This is insane! The man is dead, which is impossible. Dead people don’t walk around in the real world, functioning like normal living people. Dead people don’t wear suits and resume their lives the way they had been before they’d passed on.

Also, dead people couldn’t touch you like this, much less give you an overwhelming feeling of security like this man did. Then again, she had never met a person with the kind of aura Kiel Stark bore. It wasn’t just his life force emanating from him. It was more than that. It was filled with strength, conviction, and a passion for life that had no bounds. And it held belief. Belief in himself and what he could or couldn’t do. Belief that somewhere there was a reason for why he was, and what he was.

“J? Miss Laurent. Are you going to be okay?”

There were steps coming to join them. They belonged to the other detective who was running to catch up.

“Jesus, Kiel! Don’t go pulling that ghost shit on me! You scared the crap out of me, disappearing like that!”

“I had to get her out of there, Sam. That place has a negative energy that was just sucking the life out of both of us.”

“Yeah, well, next time, take the stairs like I had to. How’s she doing?”

“I think she’ll be all right.”

“Think we need to take her to the hospital?”

“No. Give her a chance to come to. Like I said, that apartment is full of some kind of blackness. It’s horrible. I can’t describe it any better than to say it’s an evil blackness, so thick you could almost open your mouth and feel it reach down your throat so it can tear out your lungs.”

“Dear God. Think she felt it, too?”

“Oh, yeah. She had to.”

Her hand was squeezed, making her head reel again. This wasn’t possible, to feel his skin all dry and warm, and slightly calloused. When he had put his arm around her shoulders, she would swear she’d felt his heat. Heard the steady thud of his heart. Smelled his sweat and soap, and aftershave. Which was totally impossible.

J breathed in deeply, and the detective squeezed her hand again.

“Are you gonna be okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks for getting me out of there. It was…that thing.” Taking a deep breath, she struggled to sit up. Kiel helped her, propping her against the low brick wall that bordered the complex. Sam walked over to the car, popped the trunk, and extracted a bottle of water from the cooler they kept in the back, and brought it over to her.

“Thanks.” She felt its smooth coolness when he placed it in her hand. The water refreshed her parched throat. It also gave her the chance to get her head straight. First thing she wanted to do when she got back home was take a hot shower. Try to wash away some of those foul memories.

“You feel like going down to the station and making a statement?” Sam asked.

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Yeah. As long as it’s away from this place.” Get her away from here. Enough was enough. If she got through the night without having any nightmares, it would be a miracle.

“You know we might have to come back here,” Kiel warned her.

J shook her head. “I won’t need to. I found out all I needed.” Turning her face in his direction, she added, “But I will need to see the corpses. And where those other two were killed.”

“Let’s get back to the station first.”

Kiel got to his feet and helped her up. It no longer bothered her to touch him. In fact, she was dreading having to let him go.

She raised a hand to her head. This whole thing was beginning to give her a headache. It was too surreal. She needed time to think, and space. Suddenly J wanted to go back to her quiet home and the safety of those old walls.

With Kiel.

The thought came to her unbidden, and she groaned softly.

“Are you sure we don’t need to take you to the hospital first and get you checked out?”

It was Kiel, sitting in the backseat with her. His arm was lying on top of the seat, behind her. When she leaned her head back she could feel it like a length of steel at her neck. It felt good.

“No. I’ll be okay. It sometimes takes me a while to shake it off.” She tried an apologetic smile, hoping he wouldn’t notice her nervousness. “I’m not the seasoned veteran like you are, Detective.”

“Trust me. Things are a lot more complicated from where I’m sitting,” he told her.

She could hear his frustration. And something more. Loneliness. Sadness. Bitterness.

They remained quiet the rest of the way to the station. Kiel removed his arm, to her disappointment. Then, to her shock, he took one of her hands and laced his fingers through hers, leaving their hands to rest on the seat between them. Somehow she managed to hide the smile.

When the car finally slowed, turning and dipping into the station’s parking lot, Kiel spoke up again. “Miss Laurent, if I might ask a favor of you?”

She tilted her face to let him know she was listening.

“My, uhh, circumstances are not known by anyone other than Sam. Please, I’m asking if you would keep it to yourself about what you’ve learned about me.”

“How long have you been like this?”

“A month. It’s a long story.”

“And one I am eager to hear,” she told him. “Your full story for my silence. That’s my price.” She could hear his smile.

“It’s a deal.”

When Sam stopped the car, J allowed Kiel to help her out of the back. He released her hand, taking her elbow instead to lead the way.

“Watch your step up.”

“You’ve done this before?” she murmured in his direction. “Escorted the blind?”

“No, ma’am. You’re my first.”

“I appreciate the help.”

Sam led the way until they reached the inner offices. From there they went straight to the captain’s office.

“Sir? This is Miss Laurent,” Sam introduced her.

Captain Redd got to his feet and stuck out a hand. “Glad to have you come down to the station, Miss uhh…”

J paused, tilting her head in his direction. “You stuck out your hand, didn’t you?” she asked him. The man was tall. She could tell from where his voice emanated above her head. “Forgive the awkwardness, Captain.” Holding out her hand, she waited for the man to take it.

“Oh, Jesus. You’re…”

“Blind. Yes, sir. All my life.” Quickly she shook her head, hoping to get over this patch as smoothly as possible. “Detective Stark, is there a chair nearby?”

Instead of answering, Kiel brought a chair over to her, gently bumping the seat against the back of her legs to let her know it was there. J carefully sat down, noting that the two detectives remained standing.

The captain cleared his throat. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about, Captain. I’m here to help, so let’s get on with it.”

“We picked up Miss Laurent and took her over to the crime scene,” Sam told the man. He continued to explain what had happened as J half-listened to the retelling.

In the background she could sense another person. His aura was calm and reserved. Nonthreatening. Kiel was to her left, letting his brother go over the details. She knew that if she turned her head in his direction he would be glowing like an immense bonfire. The man was throwing off heat and light more strongly than anything she had ever encountered before in her life.

But there was something else. Something she couldn’t define or explain. Because for some incredible reason he had managed to awaken a part of her that had been lying dormant for over a decade. And that realization terrified her.

When Sam got to the part where she had blacked out, Captain Redd turned to face her. “Are you all right now, Miss Laurent?”

“I’m fine. Is there someone you can bring in to take notes while I debrief?”

It didn’t take long for an assistant to bring them a tape recorder. J knew that once she was finished, everything would be transcribed and copies faxed to the other station houses in the city. J licked her lips and tried to calm herself, when she felt a paper cup being pressed against the fingers of one hand. Flashing Kiel a grateful smile, she took a sip of the cool water.

Slowly she explained in detail what she had seen. What she had witnessed as a sort of third entity, watching from a distance, unable to do anything to help except to see the horror as it occurred. Only what she had seen hadn’t been everything. She wasn’t able to tell them all they needed know, as though she had been sitting through a movie or listening to an opera. What she saw was very disjointed, as if someone had taken a mirror and shattered it, then performed those atrocities in front of it. She couldn’t see it all, but she had viewed enough in the broken pieces to burn the images in her mind. They were enough to make her feel unclean. Enough to give her nightmares for the next week.

This was one case where J knew she would be glad when her part was over. That way she could take a deep, cleansing mental breath, and hope it wouldn’t take too long for her to forget the worst of it.

After she was done, she drained the paper cup and sat back in the chair. All grew quiet. The tape recorder whirred softly.

Captain Redd moved in his seat, making the leather upholstery squeak. “All right. So at least we have some idea what kind of weapon we’re looking for, which is more than we had in the first place. We also know it was done by one assailant.”

J waited to hear either Sam or Kiel make a comment about the fact that she had claimed the killer was dead, but they remained silent. Apparently they were willing to keep mum for her sake, to prove that trust ran both ways.

“What next, Miss Laurent?”

“I need to see the other crime scene where the first two bodies were killed,” she announced. “I also want to see the victims, or what’s left of them.”

“Any particular reason why?” the captain inquired.

J shrugged. “I can’t explain how my gift works. But I’ve discovered that the closer I get, and the longer I’m around things pertaining to a case, the more I seem to glean.” She shrugged again. “Sorry I can’t be more explicit.”

“Very well. I understand, I think. Reese, you and Stark take Miss Laurent where she needs to go, and keep me posted.”

“Yes, sir,” Sam replied.

Before she knew it, they were back outside in the parking lot and heading for the car. Abruptly she stopped, holding out her arms to steady herself. Kiel was instantly there, taking both her hands in his. The contact poured a symphony of sound into her soul, the music resounding and full of promise. There was no way she could stop the tears from filling her eyes. Had her life always been this empty? Oh, dearest heavens, what was this man doing to her?

“What’s wrong?” a voice beside her demanded.

She opened her mouth and tried to respond, when Kiel replied, “She needs to rest a bit more. Isn’t that right, Miss Laurent?”

“It’s after noon. What do you say we have a bite to eat before going any further?” Sam suggested.

Eat? With all this putrid garbage floating around inside her subconscious? But J knew he was right. She needed to feed her body, then will the food to stay down. Giving a slight nod, she got into the backseat. Disappointment shrouded her when Kiel took the passenger seat in front.

Digging her nails into her palms, she tried to calm herself. Reason with herself. Once she got home she would take one of those little pills Dr. Milester prescribed for her, and then she would be able to sort out this whole mental and emotional mess she was starting to drown in. Otherwise, there was no telling what kind of wreck she would be tomorrow morning.

* * * *

“What does the J stand for?”

J grinned into her glass of water. They were at a small diner she had never visited, but whatever was cooking in the kitchen had made her stomach rumble the moment they’d come through the door. Kiel led her to a booth, but had taken his seat opposite, next to his brother. Not knowing the menu, she’d asked for a simple BLT with water when the waitress came to take their order.

“Why do you ask? Lots of people use an initial as part of their name. Like TJ or GW.”

Sitting in front of the men, and able to see them both side-by-side, she was surprised to see the difference in their auras. Dead people didn’t have an aura. They had an emptiness devoid of color or light surrounding them. An emptiness that was still detectable, like a gaping hole waiting to swallow them. That was how she knew they were dead. She knew that from experience. But Kiel was a totally different entity. Sam’s aura was strong, literally flaring in huge, dark purple arcs over his head. Yet the man next to him made him seem pale in comparison.

There was a glass of water in front of him. He hadn’t ordered anything to eat, which hadn’t surprised her. Occasionally he would lift the glass to his mouth as if to take a drink, in an attempt to keep up appearances.

“Let me guess. If I guess correctly, will you admit it?”

“Go ahead, Rumplestiltskin. Do your worst.”

“Janet. Jane. Julie. JoBeth. Janice.” He grinned to where she could hear the chuckle in his voice. “Janine? Juliet? Oh, I know! Jezebel!”

Giggling, J leaned back against the cool seat back. “Enough, Detective. Let’s call a halt for now.”

“For now,” Sam wryly commented over his cup of coffee. “You don’t know how persistent my brother can be when he sets his mind to something.” There was a slight pause, then he continued in a more cautious tone. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“What’s a girl like me doing the kind of stuff I do?”

“Well, if you want to put it that way, yeah. Have you always had the ability to see this kind of stuff before?”

“Kinda, I think.” She took another sip of water to calm herself. “My mother quit teaching after my parents discovered I was blind. They were in their forties when I was born. They had pretty much accepted the fact that they wouldn’t be able to have children of their own, so they adopted a little boy. He was two when they got him. And then, boom. Mommy found out she was pregnant with me.” She smiled. “Like they say, a sure way to make it rain is to wash your car. And a sure way to have kids is to adopt one. Anyway, from as early as I can remember I saw things. Not always unpleasant stuff, but most of it was. Like the time our cat darted out into the road and got hit by a car. I remember screaming and crying, and Douggie trying to get me to hush.”

“Douggie?” Kiel asked.

“My brother. My parents named him Douglas. Anyway, my mother came running out of the house to see why I was making such a fuss. They tried to tell me Snickers was okay. The next day Snickers ran into the street and was hit by a car, exactly as I had told them. After that, I didn’t see things often, but when I did, I always told Mommy.” She sipped at her water again. During the lull their food arrived. She wasn’t prepared to be as hungry as she was when she took her first bite.

They quietly ate for a few minutes, until Kiel gently asked, “Where are your parents now?”

“They’re dead. So is Douggie.” Wiping her mouth, she laid her sandwich back on the plate. It still hurt to talk about the accident, even twenty years later. “We were taking Douggie to summer camp. I didn’t want to go. I kept telling them there was a big truck that was going to hurt us if we went, but Mommy and Daddy told me everything was going to be all right. They made me go with them, even when I kicked and screamed and begged for them not to go. Not to take me. After they buckled me into my seat, I still fought them. Once we were on our way, I undid my seat belt and got down on the floorboard, and huddled up into a little ball.” She stopped to take a shaky breath.

“J, if you don’t want—” Kiel began.

“No. It’s okay.” She took another deep breath. “It was a cement mixer. It ran a red light and struck Mommy’s side of the car, where Mommy and Douggie were sitting. All of my family died that day. I got banged up pretty badly, but I survived because I’d hidden on the floorboard behind Daddy’s seat.”

“How old were you?” Sam asked.

“Six. Grandmama was in her late sixties, but she was my only living relative. She took me in to raise me.” A soft snort. “Of course, the last ten years of her life I took care of her more than she did me.”

“Is that old house your grandmother’s?”

“Yeah. It’s mine now. Between the settlement I got from the cement company, which she put in a trust for me until I turned twenty-one, and both inheritances, I’ve been very lucky not to have to find work to support myself. I’m not rich, by any means. I still have to watch every penny. But I don’t need a lot of frivolous extras like big-screen televisions or designer clothes.” She gave them a small smile at the joke.

“When did your grandmother die?” It was Sam again. Kiel was being unusually quiet, unless that was normal for him.

“Five years ago. Taking care of her in her last years was like a full-time job.”

“And this gift of yours?”

She gave a half-hearted shrug. “It grew. It got stronger and clearer. Either that, or I learned how to interpret it better. Anyway, after Grandmama died, I grew more aware of things. Of the world. I listen to the news almost constantly. Every now and then Miss Cassie brings me a movie to listen to.”

“You listen to movies?” It was Kiel, finally breaking his long silence.

She flashed him a smile. “Yeah. The school for the blind has a library where I can check out books and tapes. They have a special selection of movies that the studios put out especially for the blind. There’s a narration in the soundtrack that tells you what’s going on on the screen, to keep you posted.”

“Who’s Miss Cassie?”

“She’s the lady I hired when Grandmama got sick. She comes by the house every day and does a little cleaning. Sometimes she’ll cook me lunch. Do a bit of straightening. Some laundry. She reads me my mail. Helps me pay the bills.”

“Geez, and you trust her not to rob you blind?” Sam exclaimed.

J gave him a hard stare. “Yes, I trust her,” she told him coolly. “But I also call the bank on occasion to check my accounts. Everything she tells me is the truth. When you’re in my position, Detective, sometimes you can’t help but trust, and pray it works out.”

“What got you started working with the authorities?” Kiel softly asked.

She picked up a french fry to nibble. “Sometimes I’d hear something on the news about a killing, and I’d get a flash on it. Grandmama wouldn’t let me call anyone about it. She told me a lot of people would ridicule me, if not downright disbelieve me. But after she died, I kept wanting to go to the phone and call the police. I felt like I had to, like I was obligated to, but I held back.” J took a sip of water. “I finally broke down and called the tip line after the news told about that little boy who was found over in Ammiston.”

“You mean the Tillot case?” Sam asked.

“Yeah. That one.”

“It was you who gave the police what they were needing to convict Maguire?”

“Yeah. I told them where they could find the gloves and stuff he’d hidden after he’d dumped that child’s body.” A cold shudder ran through her. She’d thought she’d purged herself of that mess. She was wrong. But at least it wasn’t as strong as it had been back then, back when the news was all over the papers and television, and the images were as stark as fresh blood.

“What made you stop using the tip line and come out in the open?”

It was honest concern she heard in Kiel’s voice. The sound of it touched her. “The Milkman murders. I was getting flashes I couldn’t connect together. I finally realized I had to get closer to the evidence before anything made sense to me. That’s when I called the police and told them who I was and what I could do.” She laughed softly, pausing as the waitress came up to give them their bill.

“Bet that went over like a limp rag,” Sam remarked drily.

She giggled. “Oh, yeah, until I started giving them some solid facts they could chase down. Twenty-four hours later, they had their man. Since then I’ve helped whenever they’ve called on me, but on my terms. You’re only the third set of detectives I’ve worked with. There’s a pair assigned to me from each division, and they’re exclusively for me. If anything ever comes up where Captain Redd needs my help again, it’ll be you two who I’ll work with.”

“That may soon change.”

She looked to Kiel. Suddenly she understood what he was saying. “When are you going to tell me your story?”

“When I’m ready,” he promised.

She had the nagging feeling it may not be as soon as she’d like.

“Are you done?”

“Yeah.”

Sam paid their bill as Kiel walked her to the car parked outside. Opening the door for her, he stepped to the side, giving her the chance to pause for a moment. “Kiel?”

She sensed his startle.

“What?”

“I can see a lot of things about you. You’re not like other dead people I’ve seen in the past.”

He chuckled, truly amused. “No kidding.”

“No,” she persisted, wanting him to understand what she was trying to say. “You’re in a holding pattern of sorts. I can’t figure it out right now, but when I do, do you want me to let you know?”

“Yeah, I do. Maybe it’ll make some sense of this whole ordeal. But if it doesn’t, it won’t be your fault. Watch your feet.”

She climbed into the backseat, letting him close the door after her. This time, however, she sat directly behind him so she could see his glow rising above the headrest like a dawning sun. The warmth of his spirit was already seeping into her, cupping her heart and soul with careful hands. Without him saying the words, she knew she would be seeing more of Detective Kiel Stark even after this case was over.

That knowledge alone would help her through the ordeal of the next few hours.

* * * *

By four o’clock she was ready to call it a day. Not only was she mentally wrung out, but her emotional stability had suffered enough spikes in it to keep her running on adrenalin alone for a month.

When the detectives had taken her to the site where the first two victims had been found, she roughly informed them that the site was bogus.

“But lividity was set here,” Sam had argued. “There’s blood. Scuff marks. All the signs that the killings took place here.”

“And I’m telling you they weren’t killed here,” she had snapped at them. “Dismembered, yes. But they were killed elsewhere, then brought here where the killer finished the job.”

“A single killer? A dead killer?” Snorting in disbelief, Sam had stomped back to the car to try and cool down, leaving his brother to deal with her.

“He doesn’t understand,” she’d tried to explain. “The dead have their own strengths. They don’t have the strength normal men do. Like the living do. I know I’m right, Kiel. Why won’t he accept it?” She had stopped calling him detective somewhere between the diner and here. Sam, however, remained Detective Reese.

“I’ll tell you why. Because he hasn’t grieved for me yet.”

Her head jerked up at the statement. She could sense him nodding. “He can’t?”

“He won’t. Not until I’m really gone. And when that’ll be is anybody’s guess.”

The silence between them grew almost palpable. Finally, J turned and lifted her hand. “Take me home. I’m tired.” She waited, knowing he was eyeing her. When he finally spoke, his despair was unmistakable.

“I don’t sleep anymore, J. I don’t eat. I don’t fucking exist! Day runs into night, then back into day. There’s no reason anymore for me being here, and yet I have no idea why I am. Or what I’m supposed to do. I know I’m dead, but I don’t know why. Or how. Or where my body is.”

She blinked. “You don’t know where your body is?”

“I told you it’s a long story.”

“And I said I want to hear it.”

“Not here. Not now. Later,” he promised again. He took her hand, placed it on his arm, and walked her back to where Sam was standing beside the car.

They dropped her off at her home, then pulled away without letting her know when they’d be back in touch. Not a problem. They knew where she would be if and when they needed her again.

Miss Cassie had left a message for her on the answering machine. “Left you a plate in the oven, hon, and a slice of pie in the fridge. Hope you’re okay. No mail worth mentioning, but I’m taking your Cyril Simone catalog home with me. I’ll be by tomorrow, same time. See you then!”

The downstairs foyer smelled of lemon Pledge. Obviously Cassie had taken a dust rag to the furniture today, which meant it was Monday. J sighed. She hadn’t kept track of what day it was for God knows how long, either.

Ascending the stairs slowly, she unwound the scarf from her head. She was hungry again, but more than that she was exhausted. Plus a headache was beginning to niggle its way into becoming a full-blown migraine.

Chances were she would fall asleep in the tub if she took a bath, so she opted for a quick shower instead. Passing a big-toothed comb through her wet hair, she put it into a ponytail and slipped on a pair of running shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt. The difference she felt was remarkable.

Downstairs, she changed the radio over to an oldies station where one of her favorites was nearly over. “Don’t suppose I could talk you into playing it again,” J called over her shoulder as she headed into the kitchen.

The covered dish was in the microwave as Miss Carrie had promised. The woman knew J rarely used her real oven, commenting once that J probably had the cleanest range in the city. Fortunately, the burners were covered by a ceramic top, a precaution J had taken to prevent Grandmama and herself from accidentally burning themselves.

The pie was peach. That, along with a glass of milk, completed her meal. When she was done, she set the dirty dishes inside the dishwasher and went into the library for a comfortable read.

Reading always managed to soothe her, especially after such an emotionally packed day like today. There was very little J spent her money on, but books were her one overriding passion. And because they had to be in Braille, her costliest passion.

There was one title in particular she sought, and knew exactly where on the shelf it was located. She wanted to escape reality tonight with an adventurous tale full of revenge and love. The Count of Monte Cristo slid easily into her palm. Taking the thick tome over to the velvet-covered wingback, J curled her feet underneath her and prepared to spend an hour or so reading before calling it a night. Unless she found herself nodding off before then.

She was barely four pages into the novel when the doorbell rang. Startled, she closed the book and left it on the seat as she went to the front door.

“Who is it?”

“Kiel Stark.”

She instantly latched onto the fact that he hadn’t put the “detective” label on his name. At this time of the night, this was not intended to be a business call. She unlocked the door, opening it up to smell the evening as it was descending. “I take it this isn’t an official visit?” She smiled.

He was standing there like a beacon of hope, lighting the world as if he was another sun. She could sense something different in him, but shrugged it off. To try and put him into any sort of category would be impossible. And with her own emotions frayed about her feet, she couldn’t trust herself to make any true evaluations as to what he was feeling.

“Mind if I come in?”

She answered by opening the door wider and stepping back. Once he was over the threshold, she closed and locked the door. “I would offer you something to drink, but…”

Kiel chuckled. “It’s all right. I just came by to offer my apologies for Sam’s behavior today.”

Gesturing to him, she ordered, “Come,” and started to head back to the library. When she didn’t hear him following, she paused. “Kiel?”

“Uhh, J? This is going to sound strange, but did you know it’s darker than midnight in here?”

“Oh!” She had forgotten. But then, she had never had any use for lights. In fact, since her grandmama had died, she hadn’t felt the need to buy any light bulbs to replace the ones that burnt out. Miss Cassie had fussed at her once about keeping some in supply, just in case. Although she always came in the mornings to do what she needed to do, and could throw open the windows if she needed more light. If the woman had bought any bulbs during one of her visits to the store, J was unaware where she might have stashed them. “I’m sorry, Kiel. Do I need to come back and guide you?”

A soft chuckle tickled her ears. “No. Stay there. Just, umm, don’t freak out on me when I do this,” he warned her.

“Do what?”

“Come toward you without making a sound,” he half-whispered, standing directly in front of her.

Despite the warning, J reacted in shock at his sudden nearness. Kiel started to apologize again, when she stopped him. “I can see why Sam yelled at you today about doing your ‘ghost shit’.” She giggled nervously. “Is there a reason why you do that?”

“Kind of. I found out that if I keep my solid self intact, I can still knock things over. I still feel pain. Or something like pain. Isn’t that weird?”

It was weird, but fascinating as well. “But if you stop being solid, you’re more like an actual ghost, and can pass through walls and stuff like that?” She felt his hand touch her arm, then travel down to her hand where it clasped hers. His touch sent little shivers through her, and all at once it was as if her entire body came to attention.

“Give the lady a blue ribbon,” he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. “Where are we going?”

“To the library. It’s my favorite room in the house.”

They walked through the parlor into the library where J directed him to another chair. She felt him walk behind her like a passing warmth, and she shivered again. Instantly his hands were on her shoulders.

“You cold?”

“No. Not really.” His hands were running up and down her arms, rubbing over her goose-pimpled skin. It tingled with fire as his fingers lightly stroked her.

“What are you wearing?”

His face was close enough for her to smell his soap. Which was crazy because spirits didn’t bathe.

“A running outfit?”

“A t-t-shirt and sh-shorts.” Now her teeth were chattering, but she still didn’t feel anywhere near cold. In fact, her skin felt flushed. Her face was burning up. The backs of his fingers barely brushed against one breast, and immediately she could feel an ache in the pit of her stomach she couldn’t explain. Her whole body tensed, and every nerve was instantly aware of his masculinity.

“How could you tell I was in a running outfit?” she accused softly. Breathing was becoming more and more difficult. He literally was stealing the air from her lungs. Without being aware of her actions, J reached up and placed her hands over his, stopping their movement. It also pressed his knuckles firmly against the sides of her breasts. Pure raw desire slid through her, making her shiver.

“I can see in the dark,” Kiel replied. He moved closer behind her until his chest was a wall of warmth along her back. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to deceive you. I just didn’t want to freak you out.”

Her mind was trying to make sense of a whirlwind of contradictions. The man was dead. There was no logical explanation for him being here with her tonight. No reason whatsoever why his touch was making her body riot with these feelings she was unprepared for. She wanted to reach up and cup her breasts in her hands. More than that, she wanted him to. The images that flashed through her mind terrified her on many levels.

“You’re like ice,” Kiel murmured against her hair. “Either you’re going to need to crank up the heat in this place, or do you have a fireplace? I thought I saw a chimney.”

She nodded, not trusting her chattering teeth, and pointed. “On the other side of that chair.” His hands left her flesh, replaced by a coolness she instantly regretted. Turning around, she tried to spot his glow when a loud whoosh and a pop echoed in the room, followed by a wave of warmth and the smell of burning wood. “Please tell me you didn’t just wave your hands and it appeared.”

“Okay, I won’t, but don’t ask.” She heard him move around the room, deliberately making sure his feet made scuffling noises. “Good grief, how many books are in this library, anyway?”

“Two thousand six hundred and eighteen.”

A low whistle came from his direction. “And how many of them have you read?” he asked with a touch of humor.

“I’ve either personally read, or have had read to me, all but those twelve on that shelf underneath the bust of Poe.”

“Edgar Allan?”

“My great-grandfather built this house. He was a fan of horror literature. You’ll find several first editions of some of the classics on that shelf over the door.”

“The man believed in the supernatural?” Kiel had made his way back around the room and now, from the sound of his voice, stood a little more than arm’s length away.

“He, umm, I heard he used to go on jaunts to the cemetery. Why, he never explained. But my great-grandmother was not happy with that particular habit.” Another nervous giggle escaped her.

“Still cold?”

“No. Thank you. I should have dressed a bit warmer. I guess I was overheated after taking my shower.”

A minute of silence passed between them. She could tell he was still perusing the titles. Presently she heard him pick up the book she’d left in the chair.

“Which one is this?”

“The Count of Monte Cristo.” Of course he wouldn’t be able to read the Braille title.

He grunted in reply. “Never read it. In fact, I’m not much of a reader. Or I wasn’t.” He muttered a four-letter word in disgust.

Impulsively J held out a hand in his direction.

“You didn’t come here just to apologize for Sam’s behavior today.” She wasn’t surprised when he took her hand and drew her over to the divan.

“Partly. But also because I realized I still owed you some explanations.”

Sitting on the low-slung couch next to him was too much to bear. Quickly she got to her feet and walked over to the fireplace, crossing her arms over her braless breasts and rubbing them as if she needed the warmth. Turning around to face him, she nodded. “Go on. I’m listening.”

“A month ago I was working undercover for the DEA. Everything went as planned, but at the last second someone tagged me as a cop. Broke my cover.” He gave a deep sigh as he steeled his nerve. “Sam says I disappeared for a week. They had no idea where I’d gone, only that I’d disappeared along with two other suspects. Their initial thought was that I’d been taken hostage. The only thing they were sure of was that both men had been wounded. They found blood splatter on the pavement in a back parking lot where they think the three of us got away in some kind of SUV, gauging from the tire tracks.”

“Your blood, too?”

She saw him nod. His aura flickered. “Yeah. That’s why they thought I’d been taken hostage.”

“They searched for you, right?”

“Yeah. That’s what Sam said. A week went by without any word or request for ransom. Sam was frantic. He was my partner, as well as my brother, and I hadn’t made any kind of attempt to contact him.”

J tilted her head. “I didn’t know the department allowed siblings to partner up.”

“There’s no written rule against it. It was just coincidence. Sam was already a detective here in town when I transferred in. I guess because we both had different last names no one was the wiser when we got paired up. That and the fact that we look nothing alike.”

“You don’t?”

“Nope. I took after Mom. I got her hair and eyes, plus I’m built a little shorter. Stockier. A bit more muscled across the back and shoulders than Sam.” A soft snort of laughter surprised her. “Sam took after his dad. I’m six foot, but Sam makes me look like a midget next to him. Anyway, he got the dark hair and dangerous looks that attracts the girls.”

“How long have you two been working together?”

“A little over four years. Five, come July. Anyway, I don’t remember anything after the raid. Absolutely nothing. What I do remember is waking up in the middle of the park in the dead of night.”

“The park? Here in town?”

“Not too far from that freaky statue, yeah.”

“You mean the one that feels like a clown on drugs?”

Kiel laughed.

It was deep and honest, and sent more shivers through her. Honest to goodness, her knees were feeling wobbly.

“Come to think of it, that’s exactly what that damn thing looks like,” he admitted.

J saw him make a movement and realized he was rubbing the back of his neck.

“So you woke up one night in the park. Then what happened?” she urged.

“Sooo, I walked home. That’s when I found the police tape on my apartment. And since I couldn’t find my key to get inside, I decided the next best thing would be to go over to Sam’s.”

“Bet he was floored.”

“That’s putting it mildly.” His voice grew very solemn. “Ten minutes later he was screaming in horror.”

During his dialog J had found herself slowly inching back toward him. His story was baring his soul. The retelling was also painful for him. She knew without asking that she was the only other person he’d given the truth to. Sitting back down beside him, she reached out to encounter the sleeve of a lightweight shirt. He was dressed in casual clothes.

“Why? What happened?”

“I was filthy. My clothes were hanging off me in rags and covered in blood. I looked like I’d been dragged through hell and back. He wanted to take me to the emergency room but I told him I felt okay. That all the blood and stuff must’ve come from someone else. Sam went into the kitchen to get me a dishtowel so I could wipe the worst of it away before calling the station to let them know I was back.” He took a deep, shuddering breath. “He held out the towel for me to take, and m-my hand just…it just went right through it.”

A soft sob shook his shoulders. J reached out to find his hand. It was solid beneath hers.

“It scared you as much as it did him.”

She saw his head nod slightly. He wouldn’t look at her, but kept his head bowed.

“Then what happened?”

“We sat there staring at each other. After a while I got up and reached for the towel again. I could touch it then, if I concentrated really hard. We sat up the rest of the night and talked. Tried to figure out what to do. Little by little I discovered other things I could do. But what surprised us the most was that if I wanted to, I could look and feel human. Normal. Alive. No one could tell the difference. No one could tell I was…dead.”

There was a little hitch to his voice that made her pause. She leaned back slightly in surprise. He must have seen the look on her face and read it correctly.

“J, I swear to God, the last thing we ever expected to hear come out of your mouth was to affirm what we’ve been trying to deny these past couple of weeks.”

“That you were dead?”

“Yeah.” It was softer than a sigh.

One minute passed. The grandfather clock in the entryway chimed the quarter hour. The wood in the fireplace hissed. The rough warmth it put out felt surprisingly good on her bare skin.

“So, how did you manage to fool the police and go back to work?”

He chuckled again, but without the humor. “It’s a very long and convoluted piece of trickery Sam and I devised. But as long as I’m able to keep myself solidified, I can pass myself off as one of the living.”

He shifted slightly before continuing. “When we’re off the clock, Sam and I have been trying to find my body. Find out what happened to me after that raid.”

Reaching up, he ran the tips of his fingers over her cheek. J closed her eyes, savoring the touch.

“I’ve overstayed my welcome,” he murmured, his lips so close to hers. “It’s been a long day for you, and I’m keeping you from resting.”

“I’m glad you came,” she said hurriedly, yet neither one of them made a move to get up from the divan. J took the advantage to move closer to him. Just enough to where she could lower her forehead and let it rest on a muscled shoulder. The contact filled her with promise. “Thank you again for all you did today to help me. Up in that apartment, I mean.”

His fingers came up again and brushed her cheek, trailing down to her jaw. The path he left awakened her senses, making her wish he would go back and touch her again. But they kept moving, caressing her skin until they reached her chin. Then, to her utter surprise and delight, he lifted her chin slightly. His lips came down over hers, warm and totally unexpected. There was no movement on his part. No mashing or attempt to breach the shallow opening between her lips and surge into her mouth. Just a soft pressure, not any firmer than when he had held her hand. Then it was gone.

Wordlessly he got to his feet and headed for the front door. J struggled to stand and tried to follow him. She managed to catch him before he closed the door behind him.

“Kiel?”

“Goodnight, J. We’ll be calling you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” she replied weakly. She saw his glow fade in the distance. Then, a blink later, it was gone.

Mechanically, she closed the door and locked it. Making her way back into the library, she checked to make sure the screen was up in front of the fireplace before trudging upstairs to her cold and lonely bedroom.

She changed into her cotton pajamas before crawling underneath the sheet and hand-sewn quilt, and listened to the sounds of the old house settling. The creaks and groans she’d grown up hearing were familiar and comforting because she knew there was nothing that could hurt her inside her sanctuary.

Lying there, she followed the path of his fingers with her own until she reached her mouth. His kiss had been the sweetest thing she had ever felt in her life. It had been more sensuous than any other kiss she’d experienced. Why he’d kissed her was a mystery. Maybe it was a thank you for listening to his story without condemnation. Or maybe it was because he wanted so hard to believe he was still among the living, and the simple act of touching and kissing was his way of confirming that.

Or maybe he’d kissed her because she’d so desperately wanted him to. And somehow he had known that.

Rolling over onto her side, J curled up and tried to unwind, but her mind remained in a state of unrest. More, her body continued to remind her of his strength and his warmth. He had touched only her hands, her shoulders, and her face. He had yet to embrace her, and J wondered how deeply it would affect her when he did.

When he did.

She groaned. There was no doubt in her mind that Kiel Stark would take her into his arms. Perhaps kiss her again. Yes, he would kiss her again because she wanted him to.

And then what? And then what, je t’aime? Then what? He’s dead. He has no future left. He’s living on borrowed time as it is. Once he finds his body, when he finds it, then what will you do?

Groaning again, J buried her face in her pillow where the groan became a muffled sob.

Downstairs the clock struck the hour of ten. Then eleven. She also heard it when it struck midnight and one o’clock. It was two before she finally was able to fall asleep.

Chapter 2

Tuesday

The night was cool but comfortable. Overhead, the stars peeked between the leaves of the trees that were mere shadows against the darkness.

To his left, a little more than a twenty yards away, was that damn statue the city had commissioned and put up at the entrance of the children’s park. Kiel would bet even money the thing scared more children than entertained them.

The night was very close to being exactly as it had been when he’d awakened here. A touch cooler, but other than that a perfect copy. Squatting down he ran his hand over the spot where he had come to, dead but alive. The grass was still green and long. It hadn’t been mowed in a while, just like it hadn’t been mowed when he had awakened.

He took a deep breath. It was instinctive, automatic. He no longer needed air to survive. Everything he did was out of habit. But everything he smelled, everything he touched, all of that was real. In fact, it was too real. Too much sensation bombarded him from all sides, as if dying had finally given his body the chance to savor the world the way he should have when he lived.

A thickness in his chest gave way to a soft sob. Crap, he couldn’t even cry anymore. Shoving his fingers through his hair, Kiel glanced upward at the heavens.

He almost hadn’t recognized her when she’d opened the door. The pale, swaddled figure he had escorted around today had shed her cocoon, revealing a butterfly of heart-pounding beauty. Her skin had glowed and smelled faintly of something floral he didn’t recognize. Hair the color of caramel hung in a ponytail down her back, giving her the appearance of a teenager.

And, dear God, the body underneath that loose top and short shorts. She was pale, proving she didn’t go out in the sun very often. Or if she did, she was careful to keep her skin well-covered. But there was no way he could miss the full breasts, the slender waist, and firm thighs.

One thing was certain. Kiel knew by the end of the day that he had fallen in love with J Laurent. Tonight only capped his misery.

She didn’t shy away from him. She didn’t withdraw from his touch, or try to keep her distance. She knew his circumstances, but it didn’t seem to matter. What made this whole mess worse was that she seemed to have wanted him to kiss her, and there was no way he could remain in that house once he did. He had to get away, away to think and to curse himself and a deity that would allow him to finally find love for the first time in his life.

And I’m a freakin’ ghost.

He had no future. He had no tomorrow that he could share or even offer to her. A humorless chuckle vibrated in his throat. They both were handicapped. Permanently handicapped.

Closing his hands into fists, he recalled the silkiness of her skin. The top of her head came up to his nose. Her forehead was a canvas for him on which to paint his kisses. He could feel the temptation of her breasts when he’d lightly brushed his knuckles against them, and at that moment he had felt his whole body pull toward her like a magnet drawn to its opposite pole.

She was life. Sweet, irresistible life. Of course she was his opposite. She was everything good in this world—freedom, possibilities, happiness. He had nothing to give her. Absolutely nada.

But how could he give her up when every voice inside him cried out how unfair it was? Without thinking, he tried to ram his fist into the ground. The reality of his situation bit him in the butt when he watched his hand and wrist disappear into the ground like smoke.

A whimper escaped him. Listlessly he dropped to the ground.

Honest to God, he’d only meant to go over tonight to apologize for Sam. And to let her know what had happened to him to make him this way. Maybe deep down he had hoped she could help him find some kind of explanation or reason, because he certainly didn’t have one.

Now he realized he’d only been fooling himself. Yeah, he had intended on checking on her, to make sure she was doing okay after the crap she’d been forced to go through. And he did want to offer an apology. The explanation—well, that was a given sooner or later.

No. After they had dropped her off at her place this evening, Kiel hadn’t wanted to leave her. Now things were only made worse. Those voices inside him had demanded he go back to that old house and take her into his arms. To taste her lips with all their incredible sweetness. And then sweep her upstairs and rip that flimsy shirt and pair of shorts off of that full, firm body before laying her across her bed and plunging himself…

Oh, fuck, no.

She wouldn’t turn him away. All that warmth that had wrapped itself around his frozen soul had been her way of telling him she accepted him. Without words, without question.

So why in hell was he sitting out here in the middle of the park? Because the last vestiges of humanity inside you are saying that unless you can better her life, unless there’s some way you can make her happy, that little dream of yours will stay unfulfilled. She has a life now. She is life. Don’t be a jerk and think you can make a difference because you can’t. And you never will.

There was only one door left open to him now. The last door. Through it he needed to proceed to find his body and allow this spirit self of his to rest in peace. Sam would find the perps responsible and make them answer to justice. Then his brother would be able to grieve, the way he should have a month ago.

But why did the thought of letting her go have to hurt so goddamn much?

* * * *

Sam awoke with a start, heart pounding and sweat rolling off of his body. For a long minute he lay there amid the tangled sheets, listening. Waiting. When the scent of freshly perked coffee drifted on the air, he let himself relax.

This is the way it had been for the past month, waking up, wondering if the past few weeks had been a nightmare or reality. Wondering if his half-brother was still a walking dead man, existing in that twilight zone of dreams.

Four years separated him and Kiel. He barely remembered his stepdad taking him to the hospital to visit his mother soon after she’d given birth. It was easier to recall the times growing up when he’d bullied and beaten up on his younger brother. Then, later, when they were in school, the times he had stood behind Kiel and defended him against those who tried to make hamburger out of him.

He didn’t remember his own father. His mother had told him that some men didn’t have the capacity to love others. Sam’s father was one of those men. It wasn’t his fault or hers that the man had left her alone, unmarried and pregnant. Which was why, when Michael Stark had come along and decided to take him and his mom to a different town and start a new life together, he had been relieved to finally have a real house he could live in, a man he could call dad, and later a little brother to play with.

Like all siblings, they’d had their rough moments. But as they grew older that familial love had become something more, something stronger. Dad died from a heart attack when Sam was a senior in high school. Mom passed away less than three years ago. Leaning on each other for support, both he and Kiel had attended community college and worked many part-time jobs to help pay for their tuition and books, as well as the bills. Once he earned his degree in criminal justice, Sam had gotten a job with the local police force. When he got promoted to detective, he had transferred to the big city, and Kiel had followed right behind, first with the hometown station, then copied the promotion to detective and a move to the city.

That was where all similarities ended between him and his little brother. Where Sam was tall, dark, and built like a cowboy accustomed to wrangling hardheaded cattle, Kiel was smaller and shorter in stature, more compact, and with hair the color of ripe corn. But, man, the guy was tough. Which was probably why he was one of the best when it came to working with the DEA. While Sam preferred to work straight homicide, Kiel often loaned himself out to help bust drug runners and meth labs, going undercover and playing a part that was Oscar worthy.

When the department had gone in to support the DEA’s latest target, Sam hadn’t been surprised to learn Kiel was in the thick of it. What no one had expected was for Kiel’s cover to be blown. Too clearly Sam could remember the bile rising in his stomach when he’d been forced to watch his brother being taken away by two unidentified perps in the middle of the firestorm. A week of emotional agony followed as everyone waited for news or a ransom demand.

And then came the day Kiel had shown up on his front porch—scarred, confused, bloody, and dead.

After stopping in the bathroom, Sam went into the living room on his way to the kitchen. He expected to see the man in his favorite seat near the front picture window, but the chair was empty. Neither was he in the kitchen, but the coffee was ready, meaning he had been here.

It was a struggle every morning to wake up now, wondering if Kiel had departed overnight. It was a daily battle to convince himself all over again that the man was an impossibility. Something that should never exist. And then the man would be there, looking solid and real, like he belonged among the living. Only later to do something nonliving that would remind them both how unreal their lives had become.

“Kiel? Where are you?”

“Backyard.”

He noticed the back door was open. Walking over to the screen door, he glanced outside at the patio. Kiel was standing in the sunlight, staring out into the distance. He was wearing another suit that couldn’t have been bought with a week’s worth of pay. Sam was amazed someone hadn’t questioned him before now about his wardrobe.

“You okay?”

Kiel gave a grunt. “Oh, yeah. Peachy.”

Going back to pour himself a cup of coffee, Sam dropped two slices of bread into the toaster for a quick breakfast. They had a little less than an hour to get to work. He figured he had time to take a shower before they had to face the traffic.

“Sam, I got a problem.”

“Mmm?” Sam glanced up from his toast to see Kiel staring out the window over the sink. He hadn’t heard the screen door squeak open and close, meaning the man had materialized inside like a wraith.

“It’s J.”

“What about her?”

“I think I’m in love with her.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “Oh, shit, Kiel. Are you sure?”

“No, I’m not sure,” Kiel spat back. “How the hell would I know what love is when I’ve never felt this way before?”

“How do you know it’s not something related to your, uhh, to you being dead?”

“Oh, that’s rich. Like I have to be dead to know I’m in love?” Pivoting around, Kiel headed for the living room with Sam in tow.

“So are you going to tell her?”

Kiel whirled around to face his brother. “Tell her what? Why? What can I offer her, Sam? Huh? What? Tell me, what kind of future can I offer someone like her? And then while you’re at it, explain to me why something this special and fantastic doesn’t happen to me until after I’m dead!”

“You can’t beat yourself up like this, Kiel. You don’t even know if J feels the same way.”

Perching his hands on his hips, Kiel fidgeted a moment, then turned to look back at his brother. “I went over there last night.”

“You what?”

Kiel nodded. “I went over to apologize for all that crap she had to go through yesterday. And to explain why I’m…” He waved a hand from his head down to his waist. “This way.”

“What’d she say?”

“Not much. I-I kissed her.”

Sam raised both eyebrows in surprise but remained silent.

“And then I left.”

“Instead of giving her the chance to say ‘yea’ or ‘nay’?”

“I was afraid.”

“Of what? Rejection? Boy, talk about a doo-doo head,” Sam quipped, using a name he’d often used on his younger sibling when they were children. Kiel narrowed his eyes at him. Recognizing that expression, Sam threw his hands up in surrender. “Hey, toss that evil eye in another direction, bro. I’m giving you my honest opinion, unless it’s something you’re not wanting from me at the moment. And if it isn’t, tough shit. Too late.”

“You know I can’t offer her any sort of future.”

“Yeah, you’ve already said that. But I think you’re missing the whole point here, Kiel.”

“That being?”

“I don’t know what the good Lord intended when He let you end up this way. We may never find out. But I do know that you’ve been given the chance at happiness. Dear God, you’ve found someone to love, and who’s willing to accept you without a warranty! Frankly, I’m jealous as hell, but you don’t see me crying and moaning because I’ve been left out, do you?”

“Sam.”

“Don’t ‘Sam’ me, Kiel Michael. Get your head out of your ass and get down on your knees, and thank the angels you’ve been given this chance to find someone like J. And while you’re down there, see if you can’t ask them to find someone like her for me as well.” He gave Kiel a crooked grin.

They stared at each other for a long moment. Finally Kiel glanced up at the clock on the wall above the television. “We need to get going or we’ll be late.”

Shaking his head, Sam rushed back to the bedroom and managed a quick shower before he got dressed. The ride to work was mostly silent until they neared the station.

“Now what, Kiel?”

“Well, she still wants to see the first two victims. Plus she wants to find out who owns that apartment building where our trio of victims was found.”

“That’s not what I meant and you damn well know it. What happens now between you and J?”

“Nothing happens, Sam. You know that as well as I do.” The man’s voice was firm, but Sam could tell when his brother was hurting and keeping it tightly bottled up inside.

“And what if she’s not willing to accept nothing?”

The look Kiel gave him was filled with regret, but his brother kept his lips pressed together in a thin line and remained silent for the rest of the trip.

They were just pulling into the parking lot when their call sign came over the radio. “Delta Echo Six Five, we copy,” Kiel answered as Sam slowed the car.

“Captain Redd requests you on two.”

“Copy. Delta Echo Six Five over to two.” He flipped the channels and mouthed the mic. “This is Delta Echo Six Five reporting in.”

“Reese, Stark, where are you two?”

“Sitting in the parking lot. Why?”

“We have another body. Looks like the sixth victim of the Shredder. I’m on my way over. You two go get our little lady and meet me over there.” The captain gave them the address then signed off.

Putting the car in reverse, Sam said, “You might want to call her and let her know we’re on our way.”

“She may already know it,” Kiel admitted, but accepted his brother’s cell anyway.

They could tell it was going to be another long day.

* * * *

Her heart had leaped when she heard his voice over the phone. Putting the receiver back in its cradle, J quickly swallowed the rest of her tea and put the mug in the sink before hurrying upstairs.

Sometime during the night she had accepted the fact that she couldn’t count on Kiel being here every day. Not when there was the undeniable truth that his existence could blow away at any second. Therefore she had to be willing to take any time she could have with him and cherish it for what it was. For whatever happiness it brought her.

Sam had to be going through sheer hell. Never knowing from day to day whether Kiel would be there. She ached in sympathy for him.

She was coming down the stairs when the front doorbell rang. Unable to mask the big smile on her face, she opened the front door to a radiance the size of a small sun.

“Good morning, J. Or is it Jackie? Jacqueline? Jenna? Jessie?”

J laughed openly and held out a hand for his arm. “Good morning, yourself, Casper. You don’t give up, do you?”

“When it comes to figuring out a puzzle, nope.”

To her delight, Kiel climbed into the backseat with her. The day even got brighter when he laced his fingers through hers and held her hand next to his thigh as Sam chauffeured them to the crime scene.

“This one’s going to be rough, J,” Sam tried to warn her. “Captain called it to our attention less than a half-hour ago.”

“They know for certain it’s our killer?”

“Yeah,” Kiel replied. “You heard what the press is calling him now?”

“Uh-huh. The Shredder.” Her body shuddered involuntarily at the image that suddenly flashed in her mind. The hand holding hers tightened perceptibly.

His thigh was warm and hard, like tough rope. Immediately the bloody image in her mind disappeared, replaced by the question of whether or not the rest of his body would be just as well-muscled. A flush of heat burned her face, forcing her to turn her head away from him and pretend she was looking out the other window. She wanted to run her hands over him, memorizing every line and detail so that after he was gone she would never forget. Every minute, every second now was a treasure she had to find a way of keeping. Store it away in her chest of memories. She always had an excellent mind for specifics. While she could, while they could, she wanted to learn everything about Kiel Stark.

Everything. Because her memories would be all she would have left of him after he was gone.

Clearing her throat, she tried to get herself into her work frame of mind. “Where is this place we’re going?”

“Believe it or not, it’s an alley in a residential neighborhood. Why? Are you getting some sort of signal?” Sam asked.

J couldn’t help but smile. It was nearly impossible to explain how she knew what she knew. Crap, it was even difficult for her to understand why. But it definitely wasn’t anything like receiving “signals”, as if she was some sort of human radio. No, it was better to let them think what they wanted to if they could get a better grasp of her abilities that way. “It didn’t sound like we were downtown.”

“You must have remarkable ears,” Kiel chuckled.

“You’d be amazed what I can hear, Detective. Don’t forget that when a person loses one of their senses, the others try to compensate for the loss. If what I’m hearing is correct, there should be an ambulance and I think four more cop cars waiting for us when we arrive.”

She was met with silence. No doubt the brothers were giving each other visual signals. She was about to ask another question when Sam picked up the mic. “Delta Echo Six Five, we copy.”

“Are you bringing the little lady with you?” a tinny voice inquired. She recognized Captain Redd’s gruff baritone.

“Affirmative. Our ETA is about seven minutes.”

“Copy that. You’d better circle the block and come in the back way.”

“Ten-four, Captain. Back door it is.”

“News media?” J said softly.

She felt a slight movement of Kiel’s hand.

“Has to be,” he answered her.

His thumb stroked the side of her hand. Whether it was intentional or second nature, she couldn’t tell, but she loved the touch. He had a callous between his thumb and forefinger. It surprised her how even the most minute distinctions on his body could be maintained when he needed to appear alive.

They continued on as they listened to the squawk box. Apparently the press wasn’t the only one crowding the scene, which gave J an idea.

“Kiel? Sam? You know, I don’t have to get right up on top of everything to read it.”

“What are you saying, J?”

“When we get there, let me walk around on my own. Sort of blend in with the neighborhood. That way you two can go do your police thing, and I get to evaluate without worrying about being spotted.”

“You sure, J?”

She flashed Kiel a warm smile. “Hey, who’s the seer around here? Yes, I’m sure. Like I said, I don’t have to stumble over the bodies to get impressions from them.”

“Sam?”

“Works for me,” the man behind the wheel acknowledged. “But are you going to be safe out there without one of us to lead you around?”

“Sure. I brought HANC with me.”

She heard Kiel chuckle again. “Okay, I give. Who’s Hank?”

Reaching inside the wide pocket of her shift dress, J pulled out the folded piece of equipment she often carried with her. “HANC. My handy-dandy, all-purpose, no-guide-required cane. H-A-N-C. HANC. Standard equipment for the blind. Fully collapsible. Requires no feeding or maintenance. Just twenty-four ninety-five at your local hospital supply company. All credit cards accepted.”

This time both men chuckled. A squeeze was pressed into her hand.

After a few more minutes she felt the car begin to slow and turn. Already she was aware of the rising noise level outside the closed windows. Sam muttered something she couldn’t decipher.

“Is the crowd blocking our way?” she asked.

“No. Fortunately they’re not giving us a second look after they spot the light on our dash. I’m going to pull in beside the other cars. Once we stop, you can slip out the door on your left side without much notice.”

“’Kay.”

Presently the car came to a stop. She heard Sam leave, and turned to where Kiel was still next to her. There was another squeeze to her hand, then he released it. “When you get out of the car, there’s a big tree straight ahead. Go to it, then look for the sidewalk running about a dozen yards feet just beyond it,” Kiel instructed. “If you take a right and keep to the sidewalk, it’ll take you around the block to the front of the alley where the barricades have been set up. We’ll wait there for you to return.” He paused, then asked again, “Are you sure about this, J?”

She managed a timid smile. “I’ll be fine. Go do your cop work, and I’ll do mine.”

Hesitating, she waited to see what he would do next. Hoping he would do what she felt in her heart he had to do. And she wasn’t disappointed. His mouth met hers in a tender but too-brief kiss. She breathed in the scent of musky male. A second later he was gone. There had been no second slam of the car door because Kiel had vanished.

Getting a firm grip on both her cane and her emotions, J slid across the seat and opened the door. The noise of the crime scene was like facing an auditorium filled with overzealous fans. But Sam had pulled into a virtual parking lot of police cruisers and squad cars. No one would notice the dull little figure leaving the unmarked vehicle as she slowly found her way to the large oak tree, then to the sidewalk a dozen yards past it.

Keeping the noise to her right, J steadily followed the sidewalk with a steady back-and-forth swing of her fiberglass cane, and the tap-tap-tap like a second heartbeat in her ears. There was no sense of the passing of time. It was something she never managed to get a handle on. Her life in the darkness was always the present. Five minutes felt like fifteen. An hour could be an entire morning, especially when she needed to concentrate her other sight on the job at hand.

Her cane encountered air. Carefully she reached out with the toe of her slipper to find the curb. End of the block; turn the corner and continue on.

Now the sound was coming from up ahead. So far she hadn’t been able to receive any impressions from the scene. Then again, she had distanced herself from where the body was located about as far as possible and still be within the perimeter. Mentally steeling herself, J started down the sidewalk, taking extra care to watch out for cables and other paraphernalia the media may have strung out on their way to cover the crime.

As she drew nearer she began to make out the varying auras of the people gathered hoping to catch a morbid glimpse. She had told Kiel she didn’t know colors the way he did, the way sighted people did. Her knowledge of color was based on feelings and other forms of stimuli. Because of her mother’s and grandmother’s teachings, she knew red as heat, a flaring of warmth and light. Green was a coolness. Whenever she heard the leaves whispering in the trees, she would associate that sound with green, especially since Grandmama told her leaves were green. The earth was brown, its distinctive smell giving her a basic foundation for that shade. And so on.

The people gawking and watching behind the police barricades were throwing out rainbows of color. Children threw out the brightest auras, she’d discovered. The elderly had the dimmest. J stopped and smiled as a brilliant blue aura as strong as the summer sun went flying by her; the child’s laughter echoed in her ears.

She tried to spot Sam or Kiel in the cluster of auras on the other side of the tape. Once a man jostled her. He started to snap at her, then abruptly excused himself when he saw her unmoving, far-off stare and the simple cane.

Dammit. She still wasn’t getting any kind of reading, good or bad. Thinking she had to move closer, J tried to maneuver her way through the crowd, when a tingling began to gnaw at the base of her neck. The tingling quickly morphed into a buzzing like an angry bee.

J shook her head. Her body was telling her something, but it wasn’t like any feeling she’d had in the past. In fact, it was a feeling she didn’t like, period.

Rather than move forward, she tried to make her way back to the sidewalk. Hopefully she could step a bit further away and try to make another attempt at approaching the police perimeter from a different angle. The tingling increased, and the buzzing grew in volume.

This wasn’t right. And holding her palms to her ears didn’t help reduce the chainsaw roar that was slowly escalating in her head.

Take a step backwards, J bumped into a couple of people and hastily begged their forgiveness. The tingling was bringing on a sense of claustrophobia. The chainsaw in her head was bringing on a headache.

She had never had this kind of reaction before. Which could only mean that something in this place was affecting her. What could be giving off these vibes that were starting to make her stomach churn?

Panic set in. J turned again, then realized she had lost her sense of direction. Was forward toward the sidewalk? Or back toward the crime scene? Reaching out with her free hand, she snagged a shirt. “Sir? Excuse me, but could you show me which way to the sidewalk? Please?”

The orange aura turned to look at her. Then, unexpectedly, he jerked his shirt from her grasp and moved away without speaking. J swiveled around. The auras were all around her, like a sea of multihued lights. Biting her lips, she took several deep, calming breaths and tried to fight the suffocating blanket closing around her. The buzzing sound remained loud and grating, filling her ears like the penetrating whirr of a dentist’s drill.

Lifting her chin, she tried again to move through the ocean of people. Tried to find a clearing or any kind of open area so she could make another effort to shake off this nauseating feeling sinking deeper and deeper into her soul.

She blinked. There was an open expanse of darkness directly in front of her. The auras remained to her left and right, but just ahead was a patch of emptiness hovering like a deserted island. Keeping her cane straight out and out, J started for the emptiness when an orb of incredible blackness walked directly in front of her.

Grandmama had said that J could see nothing but blackness. That blind people couldn’t perceive light the way sighted people could. There was nothing J could tell the woman to convince her that she saw blackness, too, because it was also a color. And in her sightless world, the color black was the color of a monster. It was the color of the middle of the night when the monsters came out of closets and from under the beds to take her and eat her, and do all sorts of horrific things to her. Black was the color of evil and sheer horror.

Black. Like this thing that was standing a few feet away.

It turned and stared directly at her. Death hung off of it like a stained and shredded shirt. It reeked of blood and bile. Terror froze her feet to the ground, preventing her from escaping as it straightened up. Then it smiled.

Fear shut down her lungs, until the only breath she had left was a mere whisper. “Noooooo!”

The thing took a step toward her. She could make out its eyes, its mouth. It lifted a hand, and she could see the length of iron it held in its hand, now red and pulsing with heat. Shiny with fresh blood. Tiny scraps of flesh swung from its outer grooves. She tried to move but her body was paralyzed, unable to answer her mental commands.

The aura around the monster was a flame of blackness, sucking and feeding on life. The thing took a second step toward her, then a third.

“I do not want you here,” it said with a voice that echoed inside her skull.

J never heard the scream that ripped from her throat as the thing reached for her with its free hand. Nor was she aware of collapsing to the grass in a small, unconscious puddle.

* * * *

She was moving. That was the first thing she became aware of as the present slowly crept back into her body. She was moving, and she was lying down on her back on a bed of sorts. Moving, gently swaying.

Her ears started to function again. There was the low growl of an engine. A car. She was in a car or van. If she was lying down, she was probably in an ambulance, which would explain the slight pain in her left arm. The IV drip.

Slowly opening her eyes, J caught the pale yellow aura of someone looking down at her. Managing a weak smile, she said, “Who’s there?”

“Shh. Lie there quietly, Miss.” It was a female voice. Very low, professional, and soothing.

“Am I in an ambulance?”

“Yes, ma’am. My name’s Rosen. I’m an EMS Tech. We’re on our way to Saint Mary’s.”

“Why? Why am I here?”

“You had some kind of seizure and collapsed. Are you on any medication?”

J licked her lips and wished for something to drink. Her throat felt raw, irritated. “No. I’m not on any medications.”

“Did you take any drugs? Prescription or otherwise?”

“No. Can I have something to drink, please?”

“You’ll have to wait until a doctor checks you over,” the tech told her. “You have a pretty nasty bump on your head. They’ll have to take some x-rays to make sure you don’t have a concussion.” The woman proceeded to take her pulse.

Sighing, J turned her head when she saw the brilliant orb of fire sitting near her feet. Joy swept over her like a surging wave. “Kiel!”

The tech jerked in surprise. “Who’s Kiel?”

J kept her sight focused on the searing bright flame hovering at the rear of the vehicle. He appeared to shake his head as he leaned forward slightly. J felt a touch on her foot, like an errant breeze. He was with her but the tech couldn’t see him. For some reason, he didn’t want anyone else to know he had come along.

Closing her eyes, she tried to swallow again. “A-a friend. I was supposed to meet him. He’s probably wondering what happened to me.”

The pat on her shoulder was probably supposed to reassure her. “Once we get to the hospital, one of the nurses can call your friend for you.”

“Thanks,” she said to the tech, and looked back at the sparkling diamond of light. She could swear he was smiling at her.

When they arrived at the hospital, another tech opened the rear doors and helped to pull her gurney out of the ambulance. J finally heard the soggy slap of the saline bag hanging just above her head as they wheeled her inside. Kiel remained with her, floating nearby, never out of her line of sight.

They put her in a room and drew a curtain around her. Nurses came in to take her temperature and blood pressure. One drew blood and another dropped off a hospital gown.

“We’ll be taking you to x-ray in a few minutes. You’ll need to change into this gown. Just leave your things on the table over there and I’ll bag them up for you.”

“Will I be here long?”

“That’ll depend on what the doctor says. But that bruise on your forehead looks pretty nasty.” There were some shuffling sounds, and the nurse said, “I’ll be right back.”

It got very quiet, although J could still hear movement going on just beyond the thin curtain. Not far away the glowing flame remained still.

“Kiel, please say something,” she whispered. “Let me know you’re there.”

The flame shifted almost imperceptibly. Then a warm hand closed around her free one. “Oh, God, J, you scared the crap out of me! Are you okay?” The mattress beside her hip dipped, and she felt him sit down on the bed next to her.

She no longer cared about the implications or the impossibility of the situation. Lifting her arms, she felt his wide, strong shoulders and the soft short hairs at the nape of his neck as he bent his face and pressed his mouth to her neck. His arms, like wide bands of warm steel, drew her against his chest, pressing her tightly against him.

To be held like this fed her soul. It bathed her parched heart with life-giving hope, and there was no way she could doubt how he felt about her. Love had its own color because she had seen it in her parents, in Douggie, and shining out of Grandmama. And this blinding beacon of light was edged in that same color like a second aura.

“Oh, God, J. What happened?” His lips were muffled against her neck. They tickled her skin, sending hot threads of something indescribable streaking straight to her abdomen, then further down. Teasing. Arousing. Consuming. For one of the rare times in her life, J was acutely conscious of the fact that she was a woman. A woman starved for affection, for acceptance, and the need to be completed.

“I saw the killer,” she whispered. His arms tightened around her.

“You saw him? How?”

“I saw his aura.”

“But you said he was dead.” Kiel had lifted his face and was almost nose-to-nose with her.

“He’s dead like you,” she somehow managed to squeak. She could smell his clothes, his soap, even his toothpaste. It was crazy.

“Dead but alive?”

“Which means he has the ability to solidify himself like you can. That’s when he kills.”

“When who kills, J? Who is this guy? Why does he kill?”

“Get me out of this place, Kiel. I don’t like hospitals. There’s too many dying and diseased auras in this place.”

His face was too close to hers for her to think twice. When he kissed her, it was forever. With little trouble she could drown in his taste and the pressure of his mouth. When he grew more demanding, she brushed aside her fears and surrendered to his silent hope. He lifted her slightly before lowering her back down upon the bed. She could feel his chest as it pressed against hers, mashing her breasts. His arms never roamed, but neither did they loosen their grip around her waist and below her shoulders. It was the most wonderful weight she had ever felt in her life. A hard and wet heat pounded between her legs, insistent and demanding until she almost whimpered.

Suddenly Kiel released her and raised up. She started to say something when she felt the bed move. The mattress lifted as though he had gotten off, but she could still see his flare remaining in place. J struggled to sit up when a nurse parted the curtain and stepped inside.

“Not changed yet? They’re ready to take you up to x-ray.”

“I-I'm sorry,” was all J could manage as the woman began to help her shed her dress. The nurse was quick and efficient, helping her off with everything and wrapping her in the flimsy cotton hospital gown. As the woman tied the strings in the back, the sound of the curtain pulling back alerted J to the fact that she was about to be taken away. She glanced to the side to see Kiel hovering nearby, and she wished he would remain with her.

Either he sensed her reticence, or he had never intended to let her out of his sight in the first place because the fiery glow followed the narrow bed she’d been transferred to. They went up an elevator to another floor, then down more random hallways before they stopped. A breath of air touched her hand to remind her he would wait for her, then she was wheeled inside the lab.

Three hours later J was taken to a semiprivate room that was fortunately vacant of a second patient. Once the nurse left to fetch her a late lunch tray, J watched for the subtle changes in the luminescence to see if she could tell when Kiel solidified. There was a tiny flicker, and her hand was covered by his.

J smiled. “I can tell now when you change.”

“Oh?” There was a touch of humor mixed with his worry. “How do you feel?”

“I feel fine except for the headache. The doctor should be here in a little bit to let me know if they’ve found out anything.” Shaking her head slowly, J added, “I think they’re going to keep me overnight for observation.”

“Is it your ability telling you that? Or common sense? You have an ugly cut on your head. I’d feel a lot better if you stayed.”

J recalled the technician removing the bandage above her left eyebrow. “Kiel, that body you went to go see? The guy wasn’t killed there.”

“Yeah. Sam and I figured that one out. But he was chopped up there.”

“It all goes back to that apartment complex. I just know it does. You need to take me back there.”

“Not until we figure out who that dead killer is. I felt the thickness in that place like you did, and it made me sick to my stomach.” He moved slightly, releasing her hand. “I need to go back there alone.”

J tried to grab his hand, his arm, anything. She encountered only air. “No! No, don’t go there alone. Please, Kiel, promise me!”

“Hey.” He half-chuckled. “What could happen to me? I mean, you can’t kill someone who’s already dead.”

“Then what are you going to do when that dark man comes after you?” she whispered. “Kiel. Please don’t. At least, not until I can go with you.”

She knew he was shaking his head. It was and always would be a natural gesture. “What good would putting you back on the front line do for me? I’m already damned. I won’t risk your life, too.”

“Because I know what he looks like. And you know from being a cop that there’s safety in numbers. Wait until I get out of here, Kiel. Then the three of us can go after this guy together.”

“Three? Including Sam?” A sound rumbled softly in his chest.

She could tell he was thinking. Probably arguing with himself. Strong fingers found her cold hands and gave them a squeeze.

“J, listen to me. Regardless how this all turns out, I want to be upfront with you because there’s no tomorrow for me. You know that. I’m a man who isn’t even a man anymore. I don’t have a future, nothing. I can’t even promise if I’ll be around a week from now, or even an hour from now.” He paused, contemplating how he would continue.

Smiling, J decided to make it easier for him.

“If you’re trying to tell me you love me, I already know it,” she murmured. The hands tightened around hers. A sense of rightness filled her, as if this was how it was meant to be. A person like her finding love with a noncorporeal spirit, and then giving back that love in return. She had always been different from normal people. And Kiel was obviously just as different. Too bad it had to be for such a short time. “And I think you know by now I love you, too. I know there’s no forever for us. At least, not until I die. Call me selfish, but I’d like to remain among the living a bit longer, thank you. But I do love you, Kiel, and whatever you can offer me I’ll accept. I don’t have any trouble with that. Whatever time you can share with me is all I need. It’s all I want or could ask for. It’ll have to be enough to last me for the rest of my life.”

She heard his breath hitch. Her hands were lifted until a pair of lips pressed along her fingers. Suddenly her hands were released as the door to her room opened and footsteps approached the curtain. She heard the partition moving back.

“Miss Laurent? I’m Dr. Anderson. How are you feeling?”

“Fine, except I have a headache, and I’d love something to drink.”

“Water okay?”

“Yes, thanks.”

“Do you have any idea why you might have fainted like that?”

“I’ve been feeling rather run down of late.” She managed a rueful grin. “Guess I haven’t been taking my vitamins like a good girl.”

“Well, your blood work does show a low iron count, but nothing serious. I also have some good news. Other than that laceration above your eye, you don’t appear to have any other problems. But because it’s a head wound, I’d like to keep you overnight, just to be on the safe side. Will that be a problem?”

J glanced over at the beam of light not far from where she was. “No. Not a problem.”

It would never be a problem as long as Kiel was with her. In fact, now that they had gotten the awkward part out of the way, she was looking forward to seeing what would happen next.

But more than that, a tiny question had begun to form in the back of her mind. And J wondered, if he could hold her and kiss her, would he be able to make love to her?

As if he could read her mind, she saw him nod. Now there was another good reason to look forward to tomorrow, and tomorrow wouldn’t come soon enough.

That is, if they had a tomorrow.

* * * *

“How she doing?”

Kiel lifted his head from his hands and turned to look at his brother. “She’s asleep,” he answered. “The doctor ordered her a sleeping pill so she could rest.”

“Any problems?” Sam parked himself in the chair next to Kiel’s.

A shake of the head. “She has a nasty scratch on the forehead, but they just put a band aid on it and took some x-rays. They’re keeping her overnight. She’ll get to go home in the morning.”

“How are you doing?”

Kiel gave a shallow laugh. “Any news downtown?”

“You need to get your report done and turned in. The longer we take on this case, the antsier the captain is gonna get.”

They sat in companionable silence for several long minutes until Kiel got to his feet. “J fainted because she got a good look at the killer.”

“Our dead killer,” Sam commented.

He no longer questioned what she had to say.

“Yeah. The dead killer who manifests himself when he kills.” He watched as Sam’s eyes widened.

“Like you. He has to solidify himself first before he can touch anyone, or handle anything solid, just like you.”

“Yeah. Kick in the butt, ain’t it?”

Sam glanced over at the young woman sound asleep on the hospital bed. “Did she tell you anything else?”

“Yeah. She told me she loves me, and that she’ll take whatever happiness we can share.” This time when he beat his fist against the wall, it made a nice, loud thump. “I’ll take ‘Doomed Relationships’ for two hundred, Alex,” he muttered brokenly.

Taking the chance, Sam reached over and backhanded his brother on the arm. The contact felt good. “Hey! Did dying make a wuss out of you or what?” he hissed. “You’re one of the bravest men I know. I’ve worked with the best, and you have more balls than any of them. Stop and look at what you have, Kiel. You died. All right, that sucks big ones. But you’re not gone. You’ve been given the chance to find the prick responsible and bring him to justice.”

Throwing a hand out toward the bed, he continued. “And now you’ve found someone to love. All right, so it’s not going to be forever. It won’t include a walk down the aisle, but you can touch her, dammit. You can kiss her. And if you can kiss her you can take her to bed.” He squinted at his brother. “Or have you thought about that already?” Seeing the flush rising on his brother’s face, Sam smothered his laugh. “Shit, you can still blush? Listen, go on back to the station. I’ll stay here and keep watch while you go take care of that report.”

“Okay. But if she wakes up before I get back, call me, okay?”

Sam nodded, watching as Kiel gave J one last look and blinked out of existence as if he had never been there. Having seen the man do it before, it didn’t throw him for a loop like it used to. But the sight of it still gave him the willies.

A complimentary copy of the day’s paper had been sitting at the end of the nurses’ station when he’d passed by it on his way to the room. Make that had been. Sam pulled the folded paper out of his jacket pocket and opened it as he settled in for a long wait.

The nurse came in around eleven that evening to check on her patient. While she was taking vitals, Sam took the opportunity to grab a cup of coffee from the dispensary down the hall. At exactly eleven thirty the same nurse came to ask if he was Detective Sam Reese.

“Yeah.”

“There’s a call for you at the nurses’ station. From a Detective Stark.” Since cell phone usage was not allowed in the hospital, the only way Kiel would be able reach him would be through the hospital operator.

“How’s the report coming?” Sam asked as he took the call.

“I feel like I’m having to write a thesis on War and Peace. I can’t keep focused. How’s J?”

“You know it wouldn’t take you two seconds to pop over here and check for yourself.”

“I know, but I’m afraid if I do I’ll talk myself out of coming back and getting this damn report finished. She still asleep?”

“Yeah. The nurse said she’ll probably be out of it until morning, so don’t fret.”

There was a slight pause. Sam could visualize Kiel rubbing his chin as he had a habit of doing whenever he was thinking. “Sam, I really appreciate you sitting with her for me.”

“Just wait until you get my bill. You’ll think differently.”

There was a snort over the line. “Give me another hour. I should have something passable cranked out by then, and I’ll come relieve you.”

“Not a problem. I’ll be here. Later, bro.” Leaning over the counter, Sam dropped the receiver back in place and thanked the nurse on duty. He was very aware of her provocative smile. In the back of his mind it clicked that the woman had given him a critical evaluation, and he had made a passing grade. Discovering he was also a police detective must have jacked up his score a few more points as well. Flashing her his professional grin, he went back to the room to resume his vigil.

“Hi, Sam.”

The soft voice from the bed surprised him as he walked through the door.

“Hello there, sleeping beauty. I wasn’t expecting you to be awake. That sleeping pill was supposed to keep you in la-la land until morning.” He then realized she had known who he was before he had spoken. “How’d you know it was me?”

J gave a sleepy yawn. “Your aura. It’s as distinctive to me as someone else seeing your face in a crowd. Where’s Kiel?”

“Down at the station filling out his report. I just talked to him on the phone. He should be back in another hour or so. Look, do you need anything? Want some water?”

“No, thanks. I’m still sleepy. Just talk to me, Sam.” A slow smile touched her lips. With her hair unbound and spread out around her face, she was a very beautiful woman. Between her looks and her bravery despite her handicap, plus her insistence in staying on the case, Sam could understand his brother’s feelings for the woman. And why Kiel was growing more fiercely protective of her. “Sam. Is that short for Samuel?”

“Samson.”

“Samson? How odd. Like the biblical Samson? Samson what?”

“Samson Kyle.”

J gave a little giggle. “Your mother must’ve liked the name Kyle.”

“It was her father’s name. Except mine is spelled K-y-l-e, and Kiel’s is spelled K-i-e-l.”

“Really? I didn’t know that. Why did she give him such an unusual spelling?”

“Who knows why Mom did what she did?”

“And Kiel’s middle name is?”

“Michael, after Dad.” Scooting his chair closer to the bed, Sam sat down and got comfortable. “Laurent. That’s French, isn’t it?”

“Uh-huh. My father was a foreign exchange student at the university. He met my mother in a class they had together. They were married almost eighteen years before they had me. By that time they’d given up having any children naturally and adopted Douggie.”

“What happened to your family?”

He watched as she took a deep breath and let it out slowly before answering. “They died in a car crash when I was six. I was in the car with them, but I survived. Grandmama raised me.”

“In that big old house?”

“Hey! I love that old house!”

“Yeah, if your last name is Addams,” Sam teased. To his delight J laughed at the joke. Presently the room grew quiet again.

J had closed her eyes, and he was beginning to think she’d fallen back asleep when she murmured, “I love Kiel.”

“He told me you’d told him.”

“You must think we’re nuts.”

“Why?”

Turning her head in his direction, she opened her eyes. “I can tell when you’re pulling my leg, Samson Kyle. You can’t hide the inflections in your voice.”

“I’m not teasing you, J.”

“I know you’re not. Not this time. But you’re afraid. God, it must be hard on you, wondering every day how much longer he’ll be around.”

There was pity in her voice, besides concern. Normally he wouldn’t have been able to stand it, but coming from her it touched him. Sam realized he welcomed her opinion.

“He’s changed,” he confided in her.

“Changed? How?”

“He’s more cautious. He’s not as headstrong as he used to be. Kiel used to be what people referred to as a ‘tough little bastard’. Extremely independent. Real gung-ho. That’s all gone now.”

“Yeah, well, wait until you die, then see if you’re the same person you were,” she commented philosophically.

“Ouch.”

She started to giggle, but got ambushed by another yawn. Shifting to her side, J snuggled her face against her pillow.

“J?”

“Mmm?”

“Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For giving my brother a reason to hold on.”

He waited for her response, but when none came, he got up and peered over the bed to find her fast asleep. But he knew she had heard him because of the tender smile slowly fading from her lips.

Chapter 3

Wednesday

They came to take her vitals a little after six a.m. Groggy from the medication, J searched the room for either of the two auras she knew would be Sam or Kiel. The radiating sun at the far end of the room was the one she was hoping to see.

Once the nurses left with a departing comment that the doctor would be in to see her soon to give her her walking papers, J sat up to face him and opened her arms. Her lower lip trembled from the feel of his arms going around her, and she buried her face in the hollow of his neck as lips pressed against her forehead.

“Good morning, gorgeous.” His voice echoed in his chest.

J giggled slightly. “I’m not gorgeous. My hair is a mess. I need a shower. And I bet my breath could knock an elephant to its knees.”

“Mmm. Let me be the judge of that.”

His mouth trapped hers, captured, and took it hostage. J surrendered, never wanting this almost perfect moment to end. Dimly she was aware of his body sitting beside hers, thigh to thigh. Slowly she could feel his hands moving up her back, parting the flimsy gown until they found her warm skin. Almost tentatively one hand began to move forward, gradually easing around her ribcage. He was going to touch her breast. There was no doubt in her mind. It was a touch she wouldn’t deny him or herself as her skin tingled with anticipation.

As the rough palm cupped her, her breath caught in her throat, and Kiel released her lips to give her the chance to object.

“If you don’t want—”

“No,” she hurried to tell him. “Keep touching me. Keep…”

There was fire in his touch. Fire that was shooting sparks though every nerve and muscle in her body. When his hand gently squeezed the full globe, a moan of pure want rumbled through her, surprising her with its intensity. Sparklers sizzled between her thighs.

A thumb rubbed over the nipple, making her jerk in response. Kiel lifted his face from where he had buried it against her neck.

“Does that hurt?” His voice was hoarse. He had moved his hand away slightly.

J managed a weak smile. Taking his hand, she deliberately placed it back on her breast, letting him know she didn’t want him to stop whatever delicious torture he had in mind.

Letting out a deep sigh, Kiel dove back into the sweetness of her skin.

His thumb continued to play with her nipple until she could feel her womb clench. A surging wetness moistened her innermost core, and she trembled beneath the power of his touch. His hand moved, and he gently pinched the hard nub between thumb and forefinger.

“Oh, God. Kiel.”

Before the words were out of her mouth, he was gone. No, not gone, she’d discovered when she opened her eyes. Moved away, back to the other side of the room. She started to ask him what was wrong when the door to her room opened and at least three people entered.

“Miss Laurent?” It was Dr. Anderson, mispronouncing her name again like most people did.

J had ceased years ago correcting people, except when she felt it was absolutely necessary.

“How are you feeling this morning?” he continued, as if he wasn’t aware of the raging forest fire spreading through her at that moment. Or if he could see it on her face and in the way her body was shivering, he chose to ignore it.

“Fine, thanks.”

“No dizziness? Do you still have a headache?” A cool hand checked the head wound underneath the bandage. She caught a whiff of sanitizer.

“No. Nothing.”

“It looks like you’ve suffered no permanent damage, so we’re letting you go home. But if you have another fainting spell, I’d seriously consider having an MRI done to see if it could be caused by a medical condition.”

She nodded slightly. “I will, Doctor.”

The man gave her a fatherly pat on the shoulder and left the room without further word. The nurses continued to mess around with the IV drip and whatnot. It was hard to tell, being unfamiliar with the room. Presently a third body came in, this time bearing a tray with her breakfast.

“The doctor is signing the orders to let you leave. As soon as you’ve finished breakfast, you can go. Is there someone you’d like for us to call to come pick you up?”

J recognized the nurse from late last night. Ferran? Ferguson? “Thank you, but my ride should be showing up any time now.”

They puttered around some more. Realizing they weren’t going to be leaving anytime soon, J let her fingers roam over the tray, trying to decipher what was on it. Eggs, scrambled. A sausage link—no, two. Something that felt like hash browns. A container covered with a paper sleeve had oatmeal in it. The cup was coffee. A carton that contained—she sniffed its contents—milk.

One of the nurses must have seen her exploration and gave a little gasp of surprise.

“You’re blind?”

J threw her a partial smile. “Sorry. No one told you?”

“It’s not noted on your chart. I’ll go fix that right away.”

“No need to. I’ll be leaving in a while. But I would appreciate it if you’d put my clothes at the foot of the bed so I can find them.”

“Sure thing, honey. My name’s Amber. Call me if you need anything else.”

“I will. Thanks, Amber.”

“Another nurse will be in in a sec to take the IV out.”

“Okay.”

J continued to eat as the nurses finished whatever they were doing and finally left.

The moment the door closed behind them, a soft chuckle came from the far end of the room. “Just when things begin to get interesting between us, we get interrupted.”

Grinning with the fork pressed against her lower lip, J replied, “Just wait until tonight, buster. Once I lock that front door, ain’t nobody gonna come in and interrupt us.”

She froze, shocked by the words that had come out of her mouth. She hadn’t meant to say them, at least not out loud. But she knew as well as he did that what had occurred between them a few minutes ago had only been a prelude to something more. Something grander and far-reaching. Just like his touch had led to their first kiss, the kiss to their admission of love. The admission to his first bold, albeit gentle molding of her breast in his hand. Their next step was as certain as day following night.

Her face felt as hot as if she had sunburned. Lowering her head, J picked at her food and waited for what he would say next. Instead, Kiel walked back over to the side of the bed and lifted her chin. His hand remained cradling her face and cheek as he gave her another long kiss, pausing slightly as he pulled away.

“Mmm. Now you taste good enough to eat.” A heartbeat echoed between them, then Kiel leaned back. “I’ll go call Sam and see if he’s up yet. We’ll take you home so you can rest.”

“No. I need to go back to the apartment complex, Kiel. We need to stay on this case.”

“I need to stay on this case,” he corrected her in a firm voice. “You need to rest.”

“You need me, Kiel Michael,” she argued. Her tone made it clear she had no intention of resting today, and if she was left behind she would find some way to follow them.

Kiel crossed his arms across his chest in irritation. “You’re a damn hardheaded woman, you know that?”

“Yeah, well, get used to it quick because I’ve got stubborn all but tattooed across my butt,” she snapped back, then smiled when Kiel broke up laughing.

“That’s one area I intend on examining,” he managed to get out.

The implication bathed her face in another hot flash of embarrassment.

“Don’t you need to go call Sam while I get dressed?”

“Why can’t I stay and watch?” he teased.

Somewhere in his voice she heard the echoes of passion. It was an emotion she wasn’t familiar with, but it made her insides flutter with the thought of what was going to happen between them.

“Because I’d prefer you were out of the room for now.”

There was a few seconds of silence, then he casually remarked, “You have a beautiful body, J. Why do you hide it underneath those ugly dresses? They look like houserobes on you.”

A nervous giggle escaped her. “How would you know what my body looks like?” She started to say more, to suggest he might have some special ability as a spirit to look though her clothes like an x-ray machine, when it hit her. Yesterday when the nurse had undressed her and had helped her put on the hospital gown.

Her hands flew to her face, only to have his gently pry them away. “J, listen to me.” He sat on the edge of the bed and took her face in his palms. “We’re about to do something that has never happened before. Or at least we’re going to try. I’ll go ahead and go out to the nurses’ station to call Sam. I promise not to reenter the room until you’re ready. But promise me one thing.”

“What?”

“Promise me that tonight you’ll wear something beautiful. I don’t care if it's that sexy little t-shirt and shorts you had on Monday night. Just as long as you don’t look like someone’s aging grandmother.”

That last bit evoked another giggle. Lifting her lips for a quick kiss, she promised and watched him leave the room. The door had yet to snicker shut when she quickly fumbled for her things.

* * * *

She had never felt so alive and full of energy. The day was heady with excitement and possible danger, but more than that it promised something she couldn’t identify because this had never happened to her before. Was she allowed to be this impatient? Was it all right to think of such things when the man she was toying fantasies about sat a couple of feet away?

J rubbed a hand over her cheek. She hadn’t lost the blush. Images kept coming back to her, keeping her off-balance. No, not quite images, but thoughts. Hopes. Wishes. They could touch, so they could make love. What would it be like, having a ghost for a lover? Do ghosts have the same kinds of desires? Do they have…erections?

Restlessly tapping her feet on the floorboard of the car, J silently listened to the police scanner as Sam and Kiel drove her home to take a quick shower.

When Sam had arrived earlier to pick them up, her demands had met his brick wall. He had been as equally insistent as his brother, but his objections would prove just as useless. It wasn’t long before both brothers shrugged their shoulders and surrendered. If they left her behind, they knew she would find a way to reach the apartment building on her own. And if the captain found out about it, they could be in worse trouble than they already were.

“Make yourselves at home,” she called down to them as she hurried up the stairs. “There’s bottled water in the fridge, Sam.” Once she reached the landing, she paused to add, “Oh, whatever you do, guys, don’t move anything.” They promised to leave everything as it was, and she flashed them a smile as she disappeared upstairs.

The contents of the house had been kept as immaculate as the exterior, they found. As they walked from one room to the other, it was obvious great care had been taken to preserve as much of the older artifacts as possible. Sam picked up a needlepoint pillow and showed it to Kiel. They may not be experts in antiquities, but they could tell some of the furniture could be traced as far back as a hundred years or more.

“I feel like I’m living in the nineteenth century,” Kiel commented. His voice rang eerily from the high ceilings.

“Yeah. All we need is to hear horse-drawn wagons going by outside instead of cars.”

A distant dinging caught their attention. “Grandfather clock in the entry,” Kiel identified it.

“Then what’s that other sound?” Sam froze to listen. “Sounds like the TV.”

“I thought she said she doesn’t own a TV.”

They followed the noise, looping in a circle through the house until they reached the kitchen. Here was where nineteenth met the twenty-first century. The stove, fridge, and dishwasher were modern, as was the radio under the counter, their source of noise they had been following. “Gee, I wonder where the old wood burning stove went,” Sam quipped as a joke.

“In the backyard where the original kitchen still stands,” a voice behind them answered.

Both men turned around to see J looking like she had just stepped out of time. Instead of one of her shapeless shifts, she had opted to wear a long-sleeved dress in a pale ice blue, with lace at the throat and cuffs. It hugged her breasts and waist, then flared at the hips all the way down to her ankles. She had pulled her wet hair back from her face and clipped it at the crown. Standing there, she looked young and fresh, and very beautiful. On anyone else the dress would have been a costume. J wore it as though she had been born in that century. They gawked as she walked into the kitchen.

“Back when this house was built, kitchens weren’t part of the main building. They got much too hot, especially in the summer months. And they were also too much of a fire hazard. Servants would do the cooking in a smaller building behind the house, then bring the food on trays into the house to be served.” She gave them a bright smile. “This room was originally the dining room that used to run the entire length of the back of the house. Grandmama had that wall put in, and this kitchen installed when she married Grandfather. Well, I’m ready when you are.” Holding her arms out for inspection, she added, “No more dowdy dresses, Detective Stark. Does this one pass inspection?”

“You look like you just stepped out of the 1800s.”

“That better be a compliment,” she half-teased.

“Don’t you have any jeans?” Sam asked. He had to agree, the woman looked devastating. And vulnerable. But where they were heading a dress like this would be impractical.

“Actually, no, I don’t. Miss Carrie’s tried to get me to buy a pair once, but I felt too closed in when I tried them on. No, I prefer dresses. Call me strange, but I like the freedom.” She paused, tilting her head to listen to the faint sound of the clock in the entry. “It’s almost ten. We need to be going.”

Again they waited for J to lock the front door with the oversized iron key, which she dropped in her skirt pocket, then helped her into the car. Kiel sat in front, knowing she was watching him closely in that way she had.

“Explain something to me?” she commented as they neared the interstate that looped through the city. “When did this killer strike the first time?”

Sam answered her. “A little more than a month ago. We thought it was some sort of gangland killing until the next three showed up. Coroner says it had to be the same killer. All five bodies were identical in the way they had been killed then dismembered.”

“Same M.O. And then that guy yesterday.”

“Yep.” Kiel turned slightly to glance back at her. “What’s going around in that head of yours, J?”

“I’m wondering why the killer waited so long after his first victims, then didn’t hardly wait at all to strike the third time.”

Sam nodded. “We’ve been debating that same problem. There’s too many pieces of this puzzle missing still for us to make any sort of sense out of it.”

They rode a bit further. Their ID came over the radio. Kiel answered to let them know they were on their way over to the apartment complex. Once he signed off, J spoke up again. “If the first two victims were killed a month ago, how come their bodies are still at the morgue?”

“They’re not. We had them moved to the morgue so you could view them,” Sam replied, pulling to a stop at a red light.

Kiel took over. “They’re still part of an investigation, so they’re kept in the freezer downtown.”

“Wouldn’t matter anyway,” Sam said. “No one’s come to claim them.”

“Freezer?”

“You don’t want to know,” Kiel told her in a softer voice.

* * * *

Sitting quietly in the back, J let the sounds from outside filter through to her, allowing the familiar noises to wash over her like a calming background. She could think better when there was some chatter going on. Dead silence was too eerie, too unnerving to try and concentrate. J had learned long ago that her powers worked at their peak when she had some kind of background sound to help keep her focused.

All too soon Sam pulled up to the apartment building, a swear word on his lips. “What?” J asked, curious.

“Road construction,” Kiel told her. “They’ve blocked off the street running in front of the building. We’re going to have to go in the back way.”

Getting out on her own, J waited for Kiel to take her arm to guide her. “Watch your footing,” he warned her. “There’s all kinds of shit piled up back here.”

At one time the apartment had been surrounded by a privacy fence, with a gate at both the front and back entrances. The little post where residents would swipe their keycards was gone now. The tall wrought-iron gates sagged on their hinges. Kiel pushed the right side open as he guided J. Sam followed directly behind.

Crime scene tape also covered the back entrance into the building proper. Tearing it off, Kiel jiggled the handle to find it locked. “You’d think they would have given us a key to get in,” he grumbled.

“Why don’t you just pop in on the other side and open it like you did last time?”

He glanced at her in surprise. A tiny smile was curling up the corners of her mouth. Shaking his head in amusement, Kiel said, “This’ll just take a sec,” and disappeared. A moment later, the door rattled then opened. Sam took her elbow and led her inside.

The oppressive atmosphere of the place had not dissipated since their last visit. Standing in the lobby near the elevators, J slowly turned around, cocking her head slightly to listen. The two men watched her, waiting, not interrupting.

“Let’s go back up to the third floor.”

“You sure?” Kiel whispered. There was something about this place that made them all want to whisper, even though they were the only people in the building. At J’s nod, he instructed his brother, “Can you take her? I want to go up there first to have a look around. Make sure it’s safe.”

“Yeah. Go ahead.” Taking J’s arm, Sam headed for the stairwell next to the elevators. Once they had begun up the three flights, Kiel disembodied himself and materialized in the hallway in front of 316. Squaring his shoulders, he drifted through the door.

Morning sunlight beamed through the windows and balcony doors, but the brightness failed to dispel the gray-black fog of death in the place. He went from room to room, noticing a spot of blood here, a telltale stain there—errant bits and pieces that the cleanup crew had missed. But it didn’t matter. Their job had been to get rid of as much of the evidence as possible so that gorehounds wouldn’t be able to break inside and cart off any grisly mementoes to keep as souvenirs or sell on eBay. Anyway, in another couple of months it wouldn’t matter. The building was going to be razed and a new condominium built over the site. If he and Sam couldn’t find the answers by then, they would be SOL.

He heard Sam call out his name. He went to meet them in the hallway.

“Anything?” Sam asked.

“Nothing, but it still feels stuffy in there.” Kiel looked at J, who was wearing a frown on her lovely face. “What is it, J?”

“I keep getting shadows.”

“What do you mean, shadows?”

She shook her head slowly, then walked past him into the apartment. “Did you find out who owned this place?”

“Yeah.” Sam pulled out a little spiral notebook from his inner jacket pocket. Flipping the pages until he found the right one, he said, “Three-sixteen was leased to a Mr. and Mrs. Randall Pommerantz. They moved out after the company bought the property four months ago so they could rebuild.”

“What company?”

“Six Star. It’s listed as a limited partnership. I looked into it. They own at least two dozen condos along the Eastern and Western Seaboards. They’ve just invested in two others, plus this one, along the gulf. The spokeswoman I talked to on the phone said they were wanting to expand their holdings all the way down into Mexico.”

J waved a hand as if brushing away a fly. “It’s not the owner of this complex or this particular apartment who had a hand in those killings.” Lifting her face slightly, she held out her arms and began walking toward the hallway, back to the bedroom where the triple homicide had taken place.

Both men followed her. They could tell she was picking up something, but what they couldn’t tell. They knew, however, that she would let them know when she was ready.

“You doing okay?” Sam whispered to his brother as they followed behind. They had parted company a little past one that morning when Kiel had gone back to the hospital room to spell him and let him go home to grab a few winks.

Kiel nodded. “This place gives me the creeps.”

“Still getting that suffocating feeling you had the other day?”

“Yeah. Not as bad, but bad enough.”

They entered the bedroom to see J standing where the bed had been. The room was bare now. Before they could ask her anything, she abruptly swept past them and walked into the master bath, using her arms and hands to guide her and keep her from bumping into the walls or door. Suddenly her head jerked back. Her eyes stared sightlessly at the ceiling. “Up there.”

“Where?” Kiel reached her first as the blood drained from her face. He looked up but couldn’t see anything unusual. “What is it, J?”

“Up there. The guy last night. He was killed up there.”

Sam immediately understood. “Next floor,” he almost barked, and ran out of the room. Grabbing her arm, Kiel quickly led J out of the apartment, into the hallway, and back to the stairs. They reached the fourth floor in time to hear Sam trying to kick down the door to 416.

“No! Not that one,” J called out to him. “The one behind you.”

“Huh?” Sam turned to see 415 with the door slightly ajar, as if someone had left and forgotten to close the door all the way. He had pulled his gun when he’d entered the fourth floor. Holding the weapon close to his face, he carefully moved into position and prepared to enter the other apartment.

“Let me go first,” Kiel hissed.

Sam quickly complied.

Dropping J’s hand on his brother’s arm, Kiel melted through the wall and disappeared from sight. Less than a minute later he reappeared in the hallway. “It’s clear, but you’d better hold on to your breakfast,” he warned in a wavering voice.

As homicide detectives with many combined years of experience, they both had seen enough carnage to last them a lifetime. Sam often commented that there was no comparing what they saw to wartime kills because in most cases those were times where the body count was tallied by the number of bombs exploded. Or by the number of bullets sprayed by whole platoons. Homicides were like war fatalities, only they occurred because of human nature’s darker side. They weren’t committed in self-defense, or per the orders of a commanding officer. The large majority came about because one—or in rare cases more than one—killer sought retribution for a wrongdoing.

Serial killers were the worst. Most often those killers had no motive for their actions. Or, if they did, they used factors such as mental disease or revenge to justify their brutal acts.

Many times the revenge they thirsted for was due to one person—one individual who had turned their normal life into a sadistic one. Unfortunately many people would have to die for the sake of that one guilty person before the killer was caught. But if their revenge was the result of the deeds of many people, the results could be wholesale slaughter.

Killers the police could handle because at some point the murderers would make a crucial mistake. Insanity and brilliance rarely became permanent partners. And, given time, the killers would be found. Given time.

Too bad so many innocents had to die before that time came.

Walking into the apartment, Sam halted in the living area and fought the acid rising in his throat. “Jesus Almighty,” he swore softly. Laying a hand on top of the smaller one clutching his jacket, he could feel the iciness of her skin. “You okay, J?”

He felt her nod. Slowly.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” she whispered.

“Yeah. Pretty bad.”

She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “It reeks of blood in here.”

Staring at the walls washed in the substance, Sam nodded. Kiel emerged from the back rooms. “Back is clear. No sign of violence there.”

“So the killer did his work in here.”

“That man last night died here,” J said almost too softly to hear.

“And the killer transported him away to that alley where he was found,” Kiel concluded.

Sam felt a sudden jerk on his arm as Kiel’s expression became one of alarm. As he turned to look at J, he could hear his brother ask, “What, J? What’s wrong? What’s wrong?”

She was backing up until she hit the wall beside the doorway. Her face was the color of paper. Her eyes were enormous hazel pools, so wide Sam could see the gory room reflected in their surface.

Suddenly she took a deep breath and let out a terrified shriek. It was enough to make their skin crawl. “He’s here,” she gasped, and bolted through the door.

Sam heard her slam against the opposite wall in the hallway before he had a chance to catch up with her. He glanced back over his shoulder to see Kiel standing rigid as a statue, hands clenched by his sides, and facing toward the kitchen area. “Kiel?”

“Go, Sam,” the man ordered through gritted teeth. “Get out of here. Get J out of here.”

“But—”

“Get out, Sam! I’ll take care of him.”

Sam ran, snatching J, then dashed past the apartment once again to reach the stairs. As he passed the open door he could barely made out a dark shape hovering like a cloud over Kiel’s head as his brother faced the killer one-on-one.

Neither he nor J made a sound as they half-ran, half-stumbled down the four flights of stairs and burst through the door into the apartment lobby. He paused a second to get his bearings, slightly disoriented because of the way they had been forced to go the back way this time. J started to say something when he tightened his grip around her waist and almost dragged her out the rear entrance.

The second they crossed the threshold and were at the rear of the building, the heavy weight lifted. It felt as if they had exited into a sudden burst of spring. Sam took a deep breath almost as second nature before realizing he had nearly succumbed to the killer’s presence. Bent over and grasping his knees, he drew the fresh air deep into his lungs as he fought the dizziness. Something clattered, and he looked up to see J stumbling over to the back wall of the yard. She appeared disoriented, her arms out in front of her for protection. She was in the middle of a virtual mine field cluttered with chunks of broken brick and slabs of concrete. He watched her bounce off a portable cement mixer, then turn to continue fighting her way out of the debris. He started toward her to give her his arm when she suddenly went down with a little cry. Running over to her, he bent forward to help her up when Kiel materialized between them and grabbed her outstretched hand. J hesitated a second.

“Kiel?”

“It’s okay. As long as we stay out of the building, we’re safe,” he murmured, drawing her into his arms and holding her tightly against him.

“Wh-what happened? What did that thing do to you?” Her hands were wiping over him, searching for any sign of injury.

Sam remained frozen where he was, observing in silence. Something had happened in that building. Something terrifying. His brother looked positively ill. He hadn’t seen Kiel like this since they had discovered he was dead.

Kiel gave a humorless chuckle. “He ordered me out.”

“He who?” Sam finally spoke up. “That thing I saw hanging over you? That black shape?”

The look on Kiel’s face was his answer. “What matters right now is I’m fine, but we can’t go back in there.” Giving his brother another warning look, he added, “The sooner we get away from this place, the better off we’ll be.”

“She’s bleeding, Kiel,” Sam commented, noticing the red rivulet running down her arm.

Kiel drew back to find where she was hurt. She had landed on a section of the concrete wall that had been torn down and left scattered about in jagged chunks of cement. The wound to her palm and wrist was serious, but nothing that would require stitches.

“I fell on that,” J commented, pointing downward. “I…” She paused to stare. Giving a little wiggle, she pulled away and bent down to touch the place where she had fallen. Her hands fluttered over the rough slabs. “Kiel?”

“What?”

“This.” She stopped and glanced in his direction. “I told you if I felt it, I would recognize it.”

Sam grasped what she meant. “The murder weapon?”

J nodded. “Not the weapon, but some of what he used.”

Both men stared at what she was holding onto with both hands.

Round, like a pipe, but without the hole inside. It was solid, like a gigantic piece of spaghetti. Oh, and it had curves on it. Grooves. If I felt one, I would recognize it.

It was a length of industrial rebar.

* * * *

Kiel sat in the backseat with J leaning heavily against him. She was asleep, or almost asleep. The past couple of days had been rough on her. She was wiped out and needed rest. Solid rest, not that pseudo chemically induced rest she’d been forced into accepting at the hospital. There was no way she could get any decent soul-cleansing relaxation when people were coming in and out of that room every two to three hours to take vitals or deliver meds, or whatever nonsense they deemed important.

And there was something else she needed. Something more critical than rest.

I need to get out of her life. The thought went through his mind for the twentieth time. Or maybe it was the hundredth time. He had known it from the moment he had seen her lying on the sidewalk like a broken doll after she had screamed and fainted. J wasn’t pursuing this case like they were. No, her reason was coming from a totally different direction. He and Sam may be wading in hip-deep because it was their job, but this woman was putting herself at needless risk because she wanted to be with him and to prove herself to him. Why she felt she had to do such a thing, he couldn’t begin to guess. But the truth, when he finally accepted it, had just about done him in.

She shifted slightly, moving her head against his shoulder until she found a comfortable spot. Her left hand slid down his jacket sleeve until she reached his hand. Gently he clasped her fingers.

That river of warmth he had felt the first time she’d touched him was now a lake. No, an ocean. Fuck it. Every damn one of the seven seas! Her life force fed his emptiness, reminding him of the impossibility of their relationship.

She doesn’t need this. She didn’t need to get any more involved in a relationship with him, not when it could end at the next full moon or whatever.

Kiel barely managed to stifle a groan.

J had said the killer had a black aura. He finally knew what she meant. He thought he had been ready to face the attacker, ready to protect them as they fled the apartment building. He didn’t know what he would do, only that he knew deep in his gut he was the only person who could face up to it and possibly survive.

It had approached like an oncoming car moving at a hundred miles an hour. Its blackness was a living energy so thick it ate up everything in its path. Ate, swallowed, then regurgitated hatred in bile-filled chunks. And he’d stood there, ready to deflect it if that was the only choice left to him, to keep it from going after the only two people who meant anything to him.

There was a wind of sorts that preceded it. A wind that blew danger, warning at the beginning with little breezes and steadily getting stronger until it was of hurricane proportions, and the signals were clanging and screeching with ear-splitting intensity. Stoically Kiel had stood there, ready. Willing to take whatever it wanted to throw at him.

Fear? Had he felt any of the terror that thing had thrown off like radio waves? Hell, yeah, but not the kind of fear he knew he should have felt. His fear had not been the self-preserving kind. Kiel hadn’t felt any fear for himself. He was dead. What did he have to fear?

The fear that nearly petrified his bones had been for Sam, but more so for J because of her handicap. And because she didn’t have the training Sam had. Sam knew how to fight, how to shoot, and how to run when all other options were spent. J didn’t have any of that. Neither did she have that innate ability to be self-sufficient. She was able to live in today’s world because there were people willing to help her. Some woman read her mail, and did her banking and shopping for her. Her own family had made sure she would be financially stable throughout her lifetime, since it would have been difficult, if not nearly impossible, for her to find any sort of decent paying job. At no time had they considered the fact that she would find someone to love her—a man or lover who would take over the responsibility of caring for her.

All of this had flashed through his mind as the entity approached him. The sound of its anger was louder than the blood-curdling roar of a tornado reverberating off the walls of the room. Mixed within it, he was aware of an overwhelming rush of sorrow. The emotions had crashed into him long before the killer came to a sudden stop directly above him.

Unable to move, unable to think, Kiel had stared upward at the formless mass until a rumbling thunder of sound in his head demanded, “Why are you back?”

Why are you back?

You were a mistake.

You are not one of them.

You were not to be.

A shudder jerked him so roughly, J’s face was dislodged from his shoulder, waking her. “Kiel?”

“Shhh. Go back to sleep. We’re almost at your place.”

“My place?”

It was after one, maybe closer to two. He had wrapped her wounded palm with Sam’s tie and instructed her to clean it out good and rebandage it once they got her home.

Got her home, kept her home, and kept her away from him.

How in hell could he justify entertaining ideas of loving her? What right did he think he had believing he could just waltz into her life, when there was no telling when he would blink out of existence?

“Kiel, what are you thinking?”

“Mmm?” He bent his head slightly and nuzzled the top of her crown where it was resting on his collarbone. These last few moments were so precious. So fatally precious.

“You’re too quiet. The both of you.”

Her voice was fuzzy, yet slightly accusing. Kiel knew a tiny smile would be pulling at the corners of those full lips.

“Umm, Jewel.”

“Huh?”

“Jordan. Joselyn. Or maybe it’s Jodi.”

Her soft laughter bubbled out of her. “Oh, God, you’re not starting that up again, are you?”

“Hey. New day, new attempt. Maybe you’re named after one of the months. Is it July? Or June? What’s the other—oh! January.”

A hand came up and playfully whacked him on the thigh. Pure hunger shot straight to his groin, heavy and demanding, and it took everything in him not to groan from the sensation. Unfortunately a bit of his discomfort leaked out, forcing him to cover for it.

“What’s wrong?”

Damn her. She’d heard and gotten concerned.

“Don’t tell me it’s something totally outrageous like Jakaweela.” He tried to sound horrified.

J lifted her face and literally shrieked with laughter. The sudden reaction both surprised and delighted him.

“Jaka-what?”

“Okay, so it’s not Jakaweela. Maybe it’s something old-fashioned like Judith. Or Josephine.”

“Heaven help us.”

Sam’s smooth baritone warbled the tune unerringly. When he stopped, J gasped.

“You have a beautiful voice!”

“Thank you.” Sam grinned.

“How about you?” she asked, turning back to Kiel.

“Sam got the looks and the talent in the family. I got the leftovers. The dregs.”

A slight furrow wrinkled her forehead. “Why do you cut yourself down?”

“Why not?”

She answered him with a harder slap on the shoulder. “Make the most of what you were given, dammit,” she replied. “Do you hear me doing the ‘poor, poor, pitiful me’ act?”

“Well, excuse me, but I’ll take your blindness and up it one death and a missing corpse!”

The moment the words were out of his mouth, he regretted it. “J, I’m sorry. I—” He stopped when she reared back and moved away from him. Glancing over at Sam he noticed the man keeping his attention on the road. Fortunately they had arrived at the big Victorian house. Getting out, Kiel hurried over to help J out of the car. She allowed him to walk her to the front gate, where she halted.

“I can go the rest of the way by myself,” she said coldly.

“J, listen.”

She whirled on him. Her face was flushed with rage, her whole body stiff. “No, you listen. Okay, you’re dead. You’ve returned, you don’t know why, and you have no friggin’ idea where your body is. Okay. But you’re here, Kiel! You’re here for however long, only God knows. So why…” She gazed at him with those hazel eyes that reflected her soul. Tears were welling up in them, tears that roughened her voice. “Why are you being so negative? Instead of rejoicing in the fact that you have this opportunity?”

She sniffed as she stared a moment longer at him. It was uncanny how she could pin him down with a glare, even though there was no way she could watch his reaction.

Kiel bowed his head. He knew she wanted to say more, maybe to ask him why he wasn’t grateful for the fact that they had been given time to be with each other, to share it. Hell, he was more than grateful. He could practically drop to his knees and kiss her feet for the blessing. Yet for some reason he couldn’t tell her so. Something was holding him back, and when the look of expectancy on her face slowly died, he mentally slapped himself.

Realizing he wouldn’t answer, J turned and searched for the gate with outstretched hands. Finding it, she let herself in and proceeded up the walk. Kiel watched until she had climbed the short steps to the porch and let herself into the house. After another minute, he muttered a select word and went to sit in the front seat of the car.

* * * *

“Smooth move, Romeo,” Sam muttered, backing the vehicle out of the driveway. He slid a glance sideways, but Kiel was wearing that pensive look he was too familiar with. The look that said he was in deep thought, and the outcome wouldn’t be to anyone’s satisfaction. “I’m going to stop at Burger Barn for a hamburger before heading back to the station.”

Kiel’s reply was a slight shrug of his shoulder.

Sighing loudly, Sam took the drive-through to get lunch. They were back at the station less than twenty minutes later.

They both filed their reports stating the weapon of choice had been a length of number four, half-inch concrete reinforcing bar. A member of the Crime Scene Unit was dispatched back to the apartment building to take samples, which were then taken to the lab and morgue for testing. By six that evening they had their answer.

“Good job on the murder weapon,” Captain Redd began as they entered his office.

Kiel paused, knowing the other shoe would soon drop. Captain adhered to a strict good news/bad news form of reporting.

“The rebar matches the wounds on a couple of our victims, right down to the marks on the bones. All we need is the piece he’s using.” The man flipped a page in the folder, read to himself for a few seconds, then closed the folder. “I see we’ve also gathered more evidence that this last murder was committed up on the fourth floor of that same building. Has Miss Laurent been instrumental in helping you on this case?”

Kiel took the initiative. “Yeah.” He nodded. “She led us to the rebar and the fourth floor apartment where the last murder occurred.”

“What about a suspect?”

It was time for the other shoe.

“That’s going to be a bit trickier,” Kiel began, when Sam butted in.

“We suspect the killer is doing most of his work in that apartment complex, then taking the bodies to the other locations to finish the job.”

The captain narrowed his eyes. “You sure about this?”

“More than sure,” Kiel said.

“How’s he transporting the bodies? Can we get a handle on the vehicle?”

Kiel turned to see Sam giving him the eye. “We haven’t gotten a handle on that yet.”

“What about the dump sites? Are they connected to the victims? Have we gotten any connection between the victims?”

“We’re still working on it,” Sam muttered.

“Fuck the ‘still working on it’! What’s it gonna take before you can give me another solid piece of this puzzle? Another victim?” The man was yelling now. He was a bullhorn in a suit and tie. Running a hand over his thinning hair, the captain took a deep breath. “Do I need to put a couple of men at that apartment? Watch for anyone coming or going?”

Again Sam and Kiel exchanged glances. This time, however, the captain caught their silent signals.

“What? Speak up!”

Kiel licked his lips. It didn’t help; there was no longer any moisture in his mouth. A spirit couldn’t even cry. “There’s no telling when or if the killer will kill again,” he commented. “How are you going to justify the use of manpower?”

“That’s my problem, not yours.” Captain Redd leaned back in his chair. His arms rested on the arms of the enormous chair, fingers tap-tapping nervously on the vinyl. “Well, I gotta admit that Laurent woman has given us more in a couple of days than we’ve been able to gather in three weeks. By the way, how’s she doing?”

“She’s fine,” Kiel admitted. “We dropped her off at her place on the way back.”

“What happened at the scene? I was told she fainted and banged her head on the sidewalk.”

“Too many people.” Sam was quick to intervene. “I think she got jostled by the crowd and it spooked her.”

“And where were you two nimrods? Weren’t you were supposed to be keeping an eye on her?” Throwing the two men another accusing glare, the captain finally threw his hands into the air. “All right! Enough of the back patting. What’s your next plan of action?”

Sam hurried to answer. “The connection.”

“I thought you said you couldn’t find any connection between the victims.”

“Not between the victims. Between the drop sites. I think we’ve been going about this bass-ackwards.” Kiel turned to his brother. “I don’t think those drop sites are random. I think there’s a reason why the Shredder picked those places to finish what he started.”

“Think so?” Sam asked.

“Has to be,” Kiel insisted. “Otherwise, why not just do it all in one place and be done with it?”

A tiny grin creased one corner of Sam’s mouth. “You gettin’ a hunch?”

“Yeah. A big one.”

“Do we need to go back and get J?”

“No. Not now. Let’s check something out first.”

“Okay. I’m game. Where to?”

Giving himself a moment to compose himself, Kiel answered, “The park. Where that big-ass ugly statue of that clown is sitting.”

* * * *

It is a big-ass ugly statue. They were sitting on the grass not far from the monstrosity. The park was lightly populated this time of the day. Mostly by dog owners walking their pets, and the occasional teenager on a skateboard or blades. They were all heading for home, and the sun was lowering the curtain on another weekday. Peach-colored rays hit the multicolored representation until it resembled an Andy Warhol reject.

This was where Kiel said he had awakened to find himself dead. They had been back to this place at least four other times, searching for any clue that would let them know who had murdered him. And why. More so, to hopefully find some scrap of evidence that would give them a place to start searching for Kiel’s body. By this time it would be no more than a skeleton, unless it had been maintained in a freezer or given another form of embalming.

He watched his brother as the man paced back and forth over the overgrown strip of grass, over the exact spot. Kiel had said nothing since they left the police station and drove here. But Sam could see the emotions waging war on the man’s face, and his heart went out to him. Life had handed his little brother an impossibility, and then continued to heap another and still yet another on top of it. No two ways about it. Being dead sucked.

“Let’s get on with it,” Sam finally called over to him. “What have you been mulling over?”

Kiel walked over and sat down on the grass. “Sam, those first two bodies discovered a month ago?”

“Yeah?”

“They were found behind that chop shop over on Delano, right?”

“Yeah. So?”

“Delano’s been tagged as Drug Avenue for the past six years or more, correct?”

Sam nodded. He would rather follow Kiel’s thought process than interrupt, the same way Kiel would follow his. It was how they worked together. Yin and yang fitting tightly together to form a coherent picture.

“The second set of victims were up in that apartment, murdered there and torn apart. We know for a fact that complex has been condemned for the past six months, which means it’s highly likely those people had broken in and set up housekeeping on their own.”

“Granted. Go on.”

“Victim number six, staged drop number three, was in the alley over in the West Bend subdivision. That’s a highly affluent neighborhood.” He lifted his eyes to catch Sam’s gaze. “We also know for a fact that there’s been a couple of drug busts there.”

“Sooo, you’re thinking these are all drug hits?”

Kiel looked off into the distance, but the sight of his fingers nervously plucking the grass at his feet betrayed his inner turmoil. “Gotta be. But, Sam, there’s been at least one other victim of the Shredder. And that death doesn’t fit the pattern.”

Sam gave his brother a disbelieving look. “Where? When?”

Slowly Kiel managed to face his sibling.

“Me.”

In the first few seconds the blood drained from Sam’s face. A few seconds later an expression of pure disbelief came over him. “I’m listening,” he said tautly.

* * * *

If it had been anyone else, Kiel knew he would have been lambasted by a hundred questions. Sam knew better than to harangue him, but to wait it out and see if he got all the answers he needed.

“When I first woke up, I couldn’t remember much. Hell, I couldn’t remember anything. Like you, I didn’t know I was dead until I reached your place. I vaguely remembered pain a-and this voice in my head that kept telling me I wasn’t supposed to be there.”

Holding a blade of grass in his fingers, Kiel began to peel it apart lengthwise. “Over at the apartment complex, when that blackness came after us, and I told you to get out, it came right up over me and stopped, and I heard that voice again. The same voice, Sam. Only this time it asked me why I was back.”

The eyes he lifted to his brother were filled with emotional pain. “He told me I had been a mistake. He said he had…he had to fix me.” Kiel huffed with the memory, fighting the fear that always accompanied the revelation. That, and the tightness growing in his chest. Tightness that normally signaled the welling of tears. Except now the tears were no longer a possibility.

“So the Shredder killed you before he realized you weren’t supposed to be one of his victims? Is that what you’re telling me?” Sam interpreted. “The other two were meant to be his targets, but you just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time?”

Nodding, Kiel reached for another blade of grass. “That’s why I’m here. He fixed me, whatever that entailed, because he’d been in the wrong, and I guess he felt he needed to make amends. But in the process, I guess he made me like him.”

Sam chewed over this new information. “Why didn’t you say something about this before?”

“Because I didn’t find it relevant. Not until that thing spoke to me. And then I just…I knew.”

“You know what you’re telling me, Kiel? You’re telling me there could be other bodies out there that we haven’t discovered. More victims of the Shredder.”

“I know.”

“Do you think that if we go back to where we found the first two victims, who we know now are those guys who dragged you off, that we’ll find your body, too?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. But there’s one thing I haven’t told you, Sam. I also know who the Shredder is, or was when he was alive.”

This time Sam caught his breath in anticipation. Without Kiel mentioning the name, he already knew. “Jack Conader?”

“Cracker Jack Conader,” Kiel stated. “Dead and bent on getting his revenge.”

* * * *

From there the pieces to the puzzle began dropping into place neater than tab A fitting into slot B. Knowing they couldn’t present their findings from Kiel’s point of view, the brothers had to find the evidence to support their theory. Or enough of the circumstantial variety, at least, to convince their captain they were right.

A little more than a year ago Cracker Jack Conader had been the DEA’s number one target to get off the street. Conader hadn’t been involved with any of the drugs being shipped in from other countries. The man had been a pharmacist before being busted in a child pornography ring and shipped off to the state house for sixteen years. He’d gotten his moniker because he had used candy and other delectables to entice minors into posing for him. Good behavior and the governor’s early parole program had him back outside in five. But in that time the man had managed to concoct a pretty potent drug he called “Possession”, and the stuff was soon touted to be the next Ecstasy.

It was also a hell of a lot more deadly.

In less than a month after his release, Conader had gone from child porn advocate to drug dealer. Once again his target audience was the younger generation, from ages as young as twelve. Possession was pale brown in color, resembling raw sugar and almost identical in appearance. In fact, the drug was packaged in tiny brown packets just like raw sugar, and sold for ten bucks a shot. Cheap and easy. Conveniently portable.

Not only that, but the stuff could be added to any food or drink without a discernable aftertaste. In short, no one could tell they were being fed the drug until it was too late, and the victim went on a wild psychotic ride that had the heart racing like a million dollar, stable-bred Derby winner.

Death occurred when the heart gave out, unable to keep up the pace.

For the longest time the coroners and M.E.s were unable to detect the stuff in the victims’ bodies until an accident gave them a clue. During the autopsy of a sixteen-year-old girl who had dropped onto the floor of a local teen hotspot, the examiner’s assistant had knocked over a nearby UV lamp. Normally UV rays weren’t used extensively as an autopsy tool, but the lamp had been on for the coroner to check the girl for any signs of strangulation. The light had been inadvertently left on, and when the assistant had rounded the table to help with examining the body cavity, he had gotten his foot tangled in the cord. The lamp had rotated around and fallen over enough to where it shone directly into the victim’s open chest.

The cavity had sparkled like a salted gold mine. Once ingested, they found the drug solidified inside the veins and arteries, creating the glittering effect—which could only be detected under ultraviolet light.

Good police work traced the drug back to Conader, but finding him proved to be a completely different can of worms. That was, until they got word off the street that Conader’s league of dealers had turned on him and neatly Hoffaed the guy. Once they had managed to get the formula from its maker, the man’s life had become a pointless issue. No one knew where Conader’s body was, or who his dealers had been. But Sam and Kiel were quickly getting a handle on the man’s operations, and the hours flew by.

Their first stop was back at the now-deserted chop shop over on the eastern edge of town where the first two bodies had been discovered lying inside the remains of a Honda Accord. They knew the place had already been thoroughly scoured, but they gave it another shot.

At one point Kiel announced, “I remember a big open area like this. No windows. At first I thought I was in an abandoned warehouse.” His voice echoed slightly in the cavernous building. Their flashlights rove over the area like curious fireflies.

Sam glanced around from where he had been going through piles of tires left near the rear of the shop. “You think you were killed here?”

Kiel’s shrug showed his confusion. “I don’t know.”

“Any idea why you were dropped off at the park?” That question alone was worth being a Final Jeopardy answer. His brother’s answer, however, stunned him.

“Because I was an innocent.”

Sam had to steady his nerves before asking, “An innocent bystander?”

“Yeah. Here’s my guess. The first two guys, the ones who conked me over the head and dragged me away from the bust? They’re our first two victims.”

“That we know of. We don’t know that for sure.”

“I am,” Kiel insisted. “I just have to prove it. I’m willing to bet that the reason they brought me here is because they worked here. And that’s why they also died here.”

“And the three guys over at the apartment?”

“I’ll bet there’s a lot more over at that apartment building that we haven’t discovered,” Kiel whispered in a terse voice. “I’ll bet those three in some way were initially connected with Conader’s death. The place may even be where they either concocted Conader’s lethal drug, or distributed it.” He turned to stare at his brother. “That building could be the storehouse.”

Sam latched onto what Kiel was thinking. “Conader is killing those responsible for his own death, then leaving the bodies in locations where the victims had a second connection, like a place of business. Come on, let’s get back to the station. We need to put this thing in better perspective, and in black and white.”

Kiel turned to follow his brother outside. It was clear they wouldn’t find Kiel’s body here. Not when the place had already been picked apart by the experts. However an uneasiness persisted in his gut. Where in the hell is the body?

“Don’t want to tackle the apartment building again?” Kiel asked as they climbed back into the car.

Sam narrowed his eyes at him. “Why?”

“Maybe my body is there. Maybe we’ll find some more answers, for once. Maybe I’m just killing time.” A confession right now would feel good. He had promised J he would come to her tonight, and that frightened him more than a return trip to the apartment building.

“But what if Conader comes after you again? Think he’ll continue to be understanding and just let you slide by like you’ve done the last two times?”

“He’s already murdered me,” Kiel reminded him tartly. “There’s little else he can do to hurt me.”

“Unless he comes after me.”

Sam’s remark was barely audible, but it had a sizeable impact on the spirit sitting in the passenger seat. A string of curse words passed the younger man’s lips before he was aware of them. It had gotten dark long ago. Going to the apartment was risky enough in the daytime, but at least there was light to see by. If they attempted to do any snooping at night, chances were more than good Sam could be injured, or worse.

“You know, there’s something I haven’t been able to figure out.”

Sam glanced up from where he had been wiping his hands on a halfway-clean towel he’d found. “Whassat?”

“There’ve been other detectives over at the apartments. Not to mention the Crime Scene Unit. But there was nothing in the reports about suspicious activity. No…” His voice trailed off in thought.

“Encounter with the Shredder?”

Kiel nodded. “Yeah. I wonder why.”

“Maybe they did encounter him but didn’t mention it in their reports.”

He made a little face. “Guess we’ll have to ask on the QT to find out if that’s true,” Kiel commented.

“Or maybe the Shredder left them alone,” Sam ventured.

Hazel eyes bore into him. “Why? Why us and not them?”

“Not us. You.” He dropped the rag onto the floorboard as he watched Kiel’s expression grow more tense. “You draw the Shredder to us. He leaves everyone else alone who goes over there, except for the people he feels is responsible for his death. And you, because you were his only mistake.” Shrugging, Sam added, “Maybe the spirit feels remorse for what he did.”

They drove back to the station in silence to examine the information they had already gathered once more. Luck was on their side as they arrived. A fresh report was sitting on Sam’s chair seat. Picking it up, he glanced at it and smiled. “Bingo on our West Bend victim. Franklin Jesse Turner, six-one, Cauc, twenty-six years old, current address unknown.” He dropped into his chair so hard the seat creaked in protest. “Witnesses claimed Turner sold Possession from the alley on a once-a-week basis. Had a regular clientele.” He glanced up. “That would shore-up our theory in one aspect. He sold from there, so his remains were left there.”

“How’d they manage to match the name to the remains?”

Sam scanned the report, flipping to the second page. “Turner had a rape conviction.”

“That explains it. He was busted on DNA evidence, right?”

“Yeah. We got lucky with that one. But it still leaves us with a shitload of possibles and no definites. Because the other bodies were shredded so totally, we can’t get any tats, or fingerprints, or anything to give us any confirmation that the bodies are who we think they are.”

“They’re Conader’s inner circle,” Kiel interrupted. “I would bet money on it.”

Sam nodded. “I think so, too. Who else could get close enough and be able to find out Conader’s chemical formula? But we have to prove it. We need some way to get those names to fit the bodies.”

“What about further DNA matches?”

A weary shrug followed a loud sigh. “Maybe in a couple of cases. We can try, but the state’s so backlogged on profiling the prison population, it’s a shot in the dark that one of the other victims also has a DNA record.” Sam tried to rub away the tightness in his neck muscles and glanced at his wristwatch. “Crap, do you know what time it is?” He got a grunt in reply. “It’s nearly eleven.”

Kiel glanced up from the other side of the desk. “Yeah? Do you want to knock off for a while? I can stay here.”

Leaning over and lowering his voice, Sam redirected his attention by saying, “I was thinking about J.”

Kiel blinked. Suddenly that feeling of warmth and happiness came flooding back to him. He could feel his body’s reaction, as if he continued to possess a living body. “Shit.”

“She’s going to be mighty pissed at you.” Sam grinned, lacing his fingers behind his head and rearing back in his chair.

“She was pissed when we dropped her off.” Kiel looked at the phone. “Think I should call her?”

“No. I think you should go over there.”

“Sam.”

“No, listen to me, bro.” His voice had turned hard, but also sympathetic. “She was right, and you know it. You have no reason to rue the fact that you’re dead. In fact, you have no right to pass up this opportunity.”

“I can’t give her anything but heartache,” Kiel began to argue. Sam cut him off with a wave of both hands.

“Stop thinking negatively and look at it from my point of view. You have the chance to love her. Yeah, it won’t be forever, but she knows that. She accepts that. All she’s wanting from you is a few moments together, whatever time you can give her, so she can take it and keep it, and cherish it for the rest of her life. Don’t you understand, Kiel?” He made a rude noise. “God, what I wouldn’t give for a woman to love me that much.”

Kiel gnawed on his lips and stared at the manila folders scattered across their desks. “Have I been an ass, Sam?” He wanted desperately to admit that his thoughts had not wavered. She was and always would remain a most precious part of him, even if a life together was out of the question.

“Oh, yeah. And then some. Go to her, Kiel. Love her. Give her a memory to cherish. Give her something to remember you by.”

“Sam.”

“What’s holding you back? Don’t you love her?”

The anger that washed over his brother’s face didn’t surprise him. “That’s a stupid-ass question.”

“Then quit acting like one. What’s keeping you away from her? Because you’re afraid of hurting her? Hell, what do you think she’s probably thinking right now? Don’t you think she’s hurting right now because you’re not with her? For crissakes, Kiel! Take what you’ve been given and run with it!”

“The investigation—”

“…can wait until tomorrow. If Conader’s our Shredder, another night isn’t going to matter. If his victims are from his squad of dealers who turned on him, the better for us, I say. Now, get out of here. I’m starved. I’m going on home, too. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He watched as Kiel glanced around the nearly empty squad room and laid the folder he’d been holding onto the pile in front of him. Giving his brother a nod, he vanished.

Kiel is right about one thing. Sam got to his feet and grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair. He needed a little shuteye himself. Investigative work like they were doing was best tackled with a clear head and a fresh perspective.

Kiel would never sleep again until he was finally gone from this realm, but Sam hoped that in the morning his brother would be blessed with a better frame of mind.

* * * *

She was worn out and more exhausted than she could ever remember being. The adrenalin high that had sustained her during their flight out of that apartment building was no longer in her bloodstream. It was only by sheer willpower that she managed to make her way into the parlor and collapse on the long divan. She was asleep before she could get comfortable.

The grandfather clock was chiming, waking her up. J counted the strokes. Three. Four. The chiming stopped. Surely it wasn’t four in the afternoon? She felt groggy and listless. Sitting up was an effort. Maybe it was four in the morning.

Could it be four the next day? By the way she felt, it was possible. But more than likely she hadn’t heard all of the strokes.

Getting to her feet, she stumbled her way into the foyer and opened the door to the clock, lifting a questing hand to touch the face. Good grief, it was eight! Which meant it could either be morning or evening.

Her stomach reminded her she hadn’t eaten in some time. J went into the kitchen and grabbed an apple from the bowl on the table. Munching into it, she first checked the microwave to see if Miss Carrie had left anything in it that morning. The oven was empty. However, the fridge held a plastic-lidded plate she knew hadn’t been there yesterday. Taking off the top, she sniffed the contents. Meatloaf. Replacing the lid, she shoved the plate in the microwave to reheat.

Next, the radio. That, unfortunately, didn’t give her a clue, either.

“It’s eight fifteen at KLGM.”

“Morning or evening, asshole?” she muttered, switching it off. Normally she didn’t have a problem with her days and nights. But after yesterday she needed to get her internal clock readjusted. Being irritable on top of everything else didn’t help matters, either.

On a hunch she phoned Miss Carrie, but the answering machine picked up. She left a message briefly explaining her confusion and requested that the woman give her a ring back just to help get her back on track. Hanging up, J went back to the microwave to retrieve her hot meal.

She ate in silence in the kitchen. Now that she had a little rest under her belt, her mind was free to reevaluate the day’s past events. It was also free to think about Kiel.

A teasing sensation tickled her stomach whenever she thought about him. It was like the time her parents had promised her she could ride the rollercoaster at the amusement park, but at the end of the day their words had come up empty. They were always overprotective when it came to her, although Douggie got to do countless things she could only dream about.

The thrill of preparation, followed by the hurt of refusal. Admit it. This is going to be your lot in life.

J sniffed and blew her nose on her napkin. She had chided Kiel for being negative, but she understood his pain. She never allowed anyone to see how lonely she was. Or how bitter she could be because she was blind, and being blind was a greater handicap than anyone could imagine. All essence and reality of beauty and beautiful things was gone. She would never discover such a simple happiness. Never experience their honest perfection. Things like the Grand Canyon, rainbows, a flower, a lover’s face.

J felt her face flame, then tears spilled onto her hand. Angrily she swiped at her eyes and cursed herself for her weakness.

She had dealt with many men in her life, several of whom had expressed an interest in her. She had been on exactly three dates, each one with a different man. In the end, though, they had all bid her adieu and never called again. It was just too much trouble to deal with a blind woman.

However, Kiel was different, and she knew why. His handicap was greater, and therefore his guilt at being “different” overshadowed hers. Together they were two souls reaching out for something to hold on to. For someone who would understand their torment. For a love that could transcend all that.

She knew that neither she nor Kiel had been looking for a relationship with each other. But the moment she had seen his aura blazing like the last dying gasps of a star, her heart had gone out to him. She had reached out to him and touched him—she had touched him—and her heart had melted into his mold. She had fit him. She had filled all those cold and blank spaces inside him, then found his arms holding her more tightly to keep her there. Instead of keeping her away from him, Kiel had shared his emptiness with her. Behind that hollow space she had found a love that had beckoned so brightly and fiercely, it stunned her.

Yet he tried to keep her away. He tried to convince himself it was an impossible relationship. She agreed. It was impossible. Impossible that it could happen, impossible to think there was any future to be had, and impossible to believe it could go past a single kiss. Or a single night.

Something twisted in her heart. The pain made her clutch her chest as another tear rolled down her cheek. Unable to finish her meal, J got up from the table and was heading for the sink when the phone rang. Hope blossomed like a dozen roses.

“Hello?”

“J? This is Cassie. What was it you wanted to know?”

Hope withered and hung its head.

“Thanks for calling back. I laid down for a while and now I can’t seem to figure out if it’s day or night.” It was hard trying to keep her disappointment from coloring her voice.

“It’s…let’s see. My clock says it’s eight thirty-three at night, J.”

“What day of the week?”

“Wednesday. By the way, you didn’t come home yesterday. Anything wrong, dear?”

“No, no. It’s this case I’m helping the police with,” J answered, offering that as an explanation. Miss Carrie knew about her occasional episodes to help the law. Her recent visit to the hospital was one thing she didn’t want to alarm the woman about. Not right now.

“My goodness. You must be dragging if you were out all night. No wonder you came home and fell asleep. Are you going to be okay? I left you a plate in the fridge.”

“I’ve already eaten it,” J assured her. “Thank you.”

“Are you through with the case? Or will you be going out again?” the woman inquired.

“I don’t know. I know it’s not over yet, but I won’t know if I have to go out again until they call.”

“Well, if you need me for anything you know how to reach me. Meanwhile I suggest a hot bath and back to bed. Sounds like you need it.”

“Thanks. That sounds like a fabulous idea. Talk to you later.”

They said their goodbyes and J hung up. It was after eight in the evening. That same evening. Which meant there was a very strong possibility Kiel might come by.

Tonight.

A shiver ran through her. Tentatively she fingered the tie around her hand. The cut would need cleansing and proper bandaging. She could handle that upstairs after her bath. A nice long soak would be nice, indeed.

Upstairs she filled the claw-footed tub with bubble bath, stripped, and lowered herself into the hot water. A few minutes soaking, then she’d get up and get dressed. A few minutes. Before she knew it, her eyelids were drooping.

The water was sensuous, swirling around her thighs and breasts. If she allowed herself, she could imagine it was Kiel’s hands touching her. Tentatively she let her fingertips circle one full breast, circling in smaller and smaller whorls until they reached one stiffened peak. If she tried hard enough, she could imagine it was his fingers running like satin over her skin. It would be his mouth branding her with his kisses. If Kiel came over, would he bring her upstairs and make love to her on the bed? J tried to think of other places where they could have sex but her tired mind was too fuzzy to think.

She raised her head from the edge of the tub. Would he come over at all? Something had happened back in that apartment building. It had affected him, made him morose and more despondent than normal. When they had parted company they had not been on good terms.

How could she have snapped at him like that? There was no excuse for her chewing him out. None. He had been right when he reminded her about his condition.

Another thought zipped through her like lightning, and her hand flew to her mouth to cover the sob that caught in her throat. What if that was the last time she would see him? What if he was gone, permanently gone, before she had a chance to apologize for her behavior? Before she had the chance to say goodbye? Before she…

A tiny moan escaped, and a tear rolled down her cheek. What if he disappeared before she had the chance to truly love him?

Bending over the water, J beat her fists against the rim of the tub and let her sobs echo in the room. No one would hear her. No one would care. Tears fell onto the bubbles like raindrops as her body shook.

All she had to remember him by were his kisses and the way he had touched her. Not just her skin, but her heart and mind. He was a man turned spirit, and he had been drowning in loneliness as much as she.

She had heard that cops had the highest divorce rate in the country. It was understandable, given their dedication to their job, and the hours it kept them away from home. Especially detectives like Kiel and Sam. Theirs would never be an easy nine-to-five job that they could leave on Fridays for a relaxing weekend. It was a stress-filled, dangerous occupation that they chose to pursue because they wanted to do good. They wanted to make a difference while they were on this earth.

In a way, it was very much the same reason why she had offered her services to the police. If for no other reason, she hoped that maybe she could make a difference.

The crying helped. Venting her sadness through tears was her escape valve, just short of screaming her head off. Frustration was debilitating. She was a survivor. This loneliness would never defeat her. Take what you’ve been given and accept it. You were given more than you expected. Be content and keep going.

J washed her face and hair, then bathed. After drying off, she found the gauze in the first aid kit in the linen closet and wrapped her wound. She started to dress in an old cotton gown she loved when she hesitated. What if Kiel did come over? It was still possible, but would it be fair to her heart to build her hopes up?

Okay. Just in case he does come over, what should she wear? Should she have on something nice anyway? Just in case? Fingering the gown, she knew it was probably too old and ratty to be attractive. Did she have anything nicer?

Another flush colored her cheeks. Would it be too forward to meet him at the door wearing a nightgown? But if she put on another dress, would he think she wasn’t interested in a romantic liaison and hold back? What was it he had told her this morning?

Promise me that tonight you’ll wear something beautiful. I don’t care if it's that sexy little t-shirt and shorts you had on Monday night. Just as long as you don’t look like someone’s aging grandmother.

Pulling off the gown, she reached for the sleeveless t-shirt and running shorts she’d left hanging behind the bedroom door. With that problem now solved, J went back downstairs and into the parlor.

The Count of Monte Cristo still lay on the seat where she’d left it. Miss Cassie never moved anything she found lying about. It was the first rule of the blind—leave it where the owner left it. J picked up the book and sat down, prepared to resume where she’d left off. Her concentration refused to cooperate.

She strained her ears, listening for a sound outside that would tell her he was at the door. He moved too quietly for her to catch, but she wanted to be prepared when the doorbell rang.

“Where are you, Kiel?” she whispered. The grandfather clock chimed the half hour. Nine-thirty. She rubbed her arms. Her body was cooling down; it felt chilly in the parlor. Getting up from the chair, she stretched out on the divan and covered herself with Grandmama’s throw. She debated whether to start a fire but decided she was too tired to clean out the old ashes.

Huddled beneath the afghan, she was asleep almost immediately.

* * * *

Once again the clock awoke her as it sounded the hour. This time she managed to catch the end of its song before it began chiming. Eleven o’clock. Her heart felt like it was shriveling inside her chest.

Kiel wasn’t coming

Nine thirty. Eleven. Finally two in the wee hours of the next day. How long was she going to keep hoping before she got the message that he wasn’t coming? Or that he couldn’t come. Ever again.

She curled up into a little ball on the divan. She hurt. No, not hurt. Someone was digging his hand inside her chest and squeezing. Squeezing out the blood and air she needed to survive. Squeezing her lungs empty, forcing her to gasp for every breath. Squeezing out the tears until she could no longer control them. Squeezing her heart until every movement was painful.

“Kiel.” It came out as a squeak. Her face contorted in grief as she struggled for breath. “Kiel. I only wanted to love you.” She could finally let it out, all the years of loneliness. Of a life stretched before her without the touch of a loved one or a lover. The fruitless wishes and dreams she had tried to deny herself because her grandmama needed her support and care. Then after the old woman had died, the months she had lain awake throughout the night listening to the sounds of the empty old house. Wondering why anyone would care to love her when there were so many beautiful women out there. Women who could see. Women who were independent.

She missed the doorbell ringing.

The grandfather clock ringing the quarter hour masked its intrusion. A minute passed. Then a voice in the foyer called out loudly, “J? J, it’s me.”

“K-Kiel?”

Before she could sit up he was kneeling in front of her, a huge flame of pure white less than a foot away. She stared, mesmerized by its brightness.

“J, what’s wrong? Are you still mad at me?” His voice was soft and clearly worried. “I’m sorry about this morning. I didn’t mean—”

She reached out to touch him. To feel how solid and real he was. To convince herself he had come as he’d promised. “Kiel?”

“It’s late. Did I wake you?”

She could feel his skin, his cheek. It was smooth. Aren’t men supposed to have some kind of stubble this late at night? A hand rested on her knee, sending little waves of excitement rushing through her body, teasing her nerves. “You came?” She managed to get the words out, but her voice caught on the second word. The hand left her knee to touch her chin.

“Have you been crying?” He sounded amused. Or surprised.

“I thought you weren’t coming. Or couldn’t come.”

“Didn’t I tell you I’d be here tonight?”

“Yes, but,” She took a breath and tried again. “I thought…”

The brightness stood and moved toward the fireplace. J remembered there was no light in the house. “Wait, wait. There’s no wood in the fireplace. I-I haven’t had the chance to clean it out and replace, uhh…” It was difficult to think as the burning glow in front of her seemed to wash away the last shreds of doubt. Kiel was here, filling her with more light than a hundred sunlit days.

“Is there a candle somewhere I can light?”

“There’s an oil lamp on the mantel.”

She heard the scrape when he lifted the glass flue, then replaced it. She tried to paste a smile on her face, but the dried tears made her skin feel tight and brittle. “Better?”

“I should have called to tell you I would be late,” Kiel apologized, “but Sam and I were following a lead.”

“A lead?”

“Yeah.”

He parked himself in front of her again, close enough for her to touch. His hands rested on the divan on either side of her thighs.

“There were other victims of the Shredder. And we know now who the Shredder is. His name—”

“Wait!” J lifted her hand and her fingers touched his jacket. She left it there. “Other victims?”

“Uh-huh.”

His hand went back to her knee. When he spoke again she could hear the sadness echoing all the way to his soul.

“Me. I remembered I was one of the Shredder’s victims.”

She lifted her other hand to touch his face again. She needed to run her fingertips over his face. All this time, and she had never reached out to see what he looked like. Never traced the planes and places that would give her a mental image of who he was. His skin felt cool when she cupped his cheeks.

“Did it frighten you?” They were whispering, as if they were trying not to be overheard.

“Yeah, but not in the way you may be thinking it did,” he admitted. “I wasn’t afraid to find out who had killed me.”

A thumb caressed the curve of her lower lip.

“For those first few moments, I was afraid that finding out would mean my end. The end of me. And I would disappear without…without having…”

Fingers trailed down the side of her neck, leaving a path of fire sizzling beneath her skin. The flame rose until it was right in front of her face. It drew closer. Brighter.

His mouth touched hers, took hers. Insistent, then demanding. She needed this. She needed him to wipe away her doubts and fears with his lips, and erase the last of her worries. Her hands rounded the back of his neck to press him closer. Thoughts of tracing his face fled her consciousness as she gave in to him. His arms wrapped around her to pull her off the divan and down into his lap, until her legs straddled him.

Gently, gently he kissed her. His jacket rubbed roughly against her breasts, but the pressure felt wonderful. It felt real. Her legs were spread-eagle past his hips, and suddenly she became aware of a hardness lying at the juncture of her thighs. J gasped and pulled back slightly.

“What?” he paused to ask her.

“Are we going to make love tonight?”

“I want to. I want to make love to you. All night, if I can. But, J, if you don’t want me to, just say so.”

His hands continued to touch her, massaging her back through the thin fabric of her t-shirt. The hard warmth between her legs grew bigger, if such a thing was possible.

“Kiel.” She tilted her face slightly to kiss his cheek, his eyelids, his temple.

“Yeah?” he murmured against her hair.

“All night?”

A chuckle rumbled in his chest. The vibration made her shiver in anticipation.

“I’ll do my best, but I can’t make any promises.”

He moved her hair away from where it brushed over her shoulders. He began to taste her, licking her lightly across skin that smelled of her honeysuckle soap. Slowly he lowered the strap of the sleeveless t-shirt.

She knew he could feel her heart beating furiously at the pulse points in her neck. Her hands remained behind his neck, holding on for dear life it seemed. Pressing her backwards until she was leaning against the side of the divan, Kiel lowered the other strap and pulled down the top until he exposed both of her breasts.

“Jesus, J, y-you’re perfect.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but when his mouth began to explore one blushing nipple, her words failed her. Resigned and feeling happier than she could ever remember being in her life, J allowed herself to bathe in his luminescence.

His tongue lapped and twirled around her nipple, now puckered and tight and exquisitely sensitive. When he took as much of her as he could into his mouth and began suckling, sheet lightning pierced her down into her womb, flooding her, preparing her. J cried out softly; her hands pressed his mouth harder against her. His other hand was playing with the other nipple, flicking it, playing with it, then pinching it. J squirmed. And with every movement that rock-hard part of him vibrated along her folds.

“You make me forget what I am,” he murmured in the valley between her breasts. “I touch you, and it’s like having this heater come on inside me. Is that love, J? Please tell me that’s love.”

“It has to be. I can’t feel anything but how right this is. Like it was meant to be. Like it was our destiny. Like it was…” His mouth was placing tiny kisses up her chest, aiming for her throat while leaving a path of fire in its wake. Every nerve under her skin seemed to be exploding simultaneously. Groaning softly, she wriggled again in his lap. The iron rod leaped. Now it was prodding her, demanding entrance despite the thin layers of fabric restraining it.

“Predestined?”

Faintly her mind registered his whisper. “Huh?” Dizzy, she started to lift her head from the divan when Kiel jerked the shirt up and off of her. A little gasp followed his motion. Instinctively she tried to cover herself with her hands when his own grabbed her wrists and carefully placed them on him.

Her fingers encountered skin, and the shock of it made her react. “Kiel? Where are your clothes?”

“Clothes are part of the illusion, J.” He made an exasperated sound.

“What?”

“Will you ever tell me what the J stands for?”

“It means ‘I love you’.” She smiled. His flesh was smooth. Hairless. All the way down to his belly. She felt him quivering beneath her touch. “What color is your hair?”

“For you? What’s yellow? A dark yellow?”

“Mums. The smell of fresh-picked mums.”

“I like that.”

His breath smelled of peppermint. She wondered how he was able to do that.

“What color are your eyes?”

“They’re like yours. Hazel.”

“What’s hazel? Is that a pretty color?”

“Pretty?” Another chuckle vibrated in his chest. “Girls used to tease me about my eyes and my long lashes. I can’t help it if I have long lashes. Hazel. Hmm. It’s like a combination of green and brown. Your eyes, though, they’re so beautiful. Round and expressive. Even though you can’t see with them, J, they’re like enormous windows. And they got this little brandy brown ring of color on the outer edges. I love your eyes, J. Hasn’t anyone ever told you the color of your eyes?”

“No,” she answered, before placing a kiss on one broad shoulder. He felt like a contradiction in terms: soft and hard, bendable but unmoving, tough and gentle, strong and weak. She lightly skimmed his bare back with her hands. He shivered again. “Cold?”

“No. Never again. Every time you touch me I heat up. I’ve never felt like this with another woman. Never. That’s why I’m so confused,” he confessed. He pressed his nose into the hollow of her throat and clutched her tightly against him. “Do I love you because of what I’ve become? Or because of what you do to me? Or am I finally able to feel this way because I’m dead?”

“Hush.” Raising his face, she kissed him. Only this time she let the tip of her tongue gently probe between his lips. Hungrily he opened up to her, and she replied in kind.

If she had felt engulfed by his desire before, this new exploration went from tidal waves to drowning. His tongue was ravenous as he returned the gesture. One large, calloused hand held her head firmly as his mouth consumed her, tasting the moistness behind her lips, feeling to the depths of her throat.

An unconscious jerk of her hips, and suddenly his other hand was dipping inside the elastic waistband of her nylon shorts. Fingers teased the tight, silky curls until one slid between her wet folds and started stroking, stroking, stroking.

His tongue plunged into her mouth repeatedly, dancing with her own. His finger mimicked the movement, arousing her at both ends while the fires he had ignited in her sizzled. J lost all thought and all control as the passion slowly wove its way downward. Downward, to meet the other half of her pleasure spiraling upward. She whimpered into his mouth as he continued to take her with his mouth and hand. Her hips bucked, riding against his hand and the fingers that were slipping into her.

It felt so good. Too good. He had to keep doing this to her. All night. Never stopping. Never—

Kiel suddenly jerked away, lifting his mouth without warning. The hand inside her shorts was withdrawn with a snap of the elastic. The unexpected loss made her moan. “Why did you stop?” She could feel him shaking, and for the briefest second she thought he was reconsidering. “Kiel?” she asked again, close to tears.

“You…J, you’re a virgin?”

“Uh-huh. So?”

“I mean…”

“What’s wrong?” Her body was protesting. She had been so close to the most perfect rapture. So close. Now it was dissipating like smoke, leaving her chilled and empty. “You don’t want me anymore?”

“Oh, God, no. No, that’s not it, J. I’m aching for you, can’t you tell?”

He took one of her hands and moved it between them until she could grasp that hard, hot length that had been seeking entrance between her thighs. The touch of it, the softest of skin over iron, shocked her.

“I want you to love me,” she begged in the barest of whispers.

“Are you sure? I want you to be absolutely positive, J, because if I do, there’ll be no going back.”

His lips tickled her ear. His breath sounded strained, ragged. He was struggling with something, she could tell, and it puzzled her.

“I want you to love me.” She hoped it sounded more forceful. “Make love to me, Kiel.”

He groaned loudly and wrapped both arms around her. The feel of her breasts brushing his chest was like water meeting an electrical current. J cried out at the touch, unaware of being lifted and laid across the long divan. Hands tugged off the shorts, leaving her totally naked.

“You look delicious,” he said, his voice coming from about a foot above her. “Christ, you’re all caramel colored.”

“Huh?” Not knowing what to do with her hands, she left them resting at her sides, palms on the velvet material covering the divan.

“Your hair. Here.”

He ran fingers over her scalp.

“And here.”

There was the tickle of a single digit as it made little twirls through the soft hairs shielding her mound.

“I can’t get over how lovely you are, J. Why do you cover it with those baggy old dresses?”

“Umm. They’re comfortable?”

“Well, keep wearing them,” he ordered her, but teasingly.

His request surprised her.

“After all that talk about me not wearing them?”

“Keep wearing them,” he repeated. “I don’t want any other man to know how really beautiful you are. I want to be the only man who knows your perfect body.”

She opened her mouth to retort when the brilliant glow descended, forcing her to close her eyes as he lowered his whole length over her. He was going to make love to her on the divan. Grandmama’s divan. Right here in the parlor. Grandmama would be pissed. He roughly kissed her. The flames were back and growing hotter.

His hands traveled down her sides, rounding her hips and gliding like warm water over her thighs before they trailed inward. She felt him spreading her legs, lifting her knees, and it caught her unaware.

“Shhh,” he breathed against her lips. “Relax. Let yourself go, honey.”

He kissed her lips again, a brief meeting, then her chin. The underside of her jaw. Her throat. Downward in a straight line. Between her breasts.

He adjusted his body, raising it slightly, but the kisses never ceased. Down to her navel where his tongue bathed it in erotic probing. Down her abdomen, heading due south.

J gasped. He isn’t… Surely he isn’t going to…

Yes, he is. His mouth closed over her mons and treated that part of her the same way he had treated her mouth. He moaned against her, and the vibrations pierced her straight to her core. She felt him spread her lips, and his hot breath almost scalded her. When his teeth lightly scratched over the inner surfaces, every nerve erupted, sending her whole body into temporary rigor.

“You taste delicious,” he mumbled.

Shivers of electricity kept running over her as his tongue plunged into her like a pseudo penis. Plunging. Licking. Moaning over and over at the way she felt, she tasted, and how she smelled.

J writhed, her breath rasping in her throat. She reached down and tried to touch him, but his hands suddenly caught hers. Strong fingers clutched her fingers, and he pulled her downward, digging his face deeper into her.

She no longer had control over her body. A million hands were stroking her, fanning the flames into a single diamond-hard need in the lowest part of her abdomen. Before she could cry out for him to take her and complete her, Kiel released her hands. He reared up and moved above her, sliding his hard, rough body over hers until the tip of his erection jerked at her entrance. Somehow her hands found his face.

“I love you,” they vowed together, and he sank into her.

J convulsed in pain-filled pleasure. A shriek ripped from her throat. Her hands grasped his short hair and pulled his face down to where he locked his lips under her earlobe.

His hips rotated and kept moving, never stopping his invasion. Never ceasing their thrusts into her body. As the pain dispersed and her hunger grew more demanding, she met him thrust for thrust, lifting her hips, allowing her body to take over and follow his.

His hands were beneath her, holding her buttocks steady so he wouldn’t shove her across the divan. He was heavy but she didn’t care. Tears of happiness rolled down the sides of her face. It felt so good. So perfect. So wonderfully right.

Kiel paused for a split-second to release her bottom and readjust her slightly, letting her heels rest along his back. Planting his arms on either side of her, he raised himself above her and continued his assault. J wrapped her arms around his neck and held on.

The diamond brightness was melting and spreading out over them like an enormous white blanket. She felt it lifting her, promising, promising.

She was jerked through the brightness as her body convulsed from her orgasm. Crying out, her body went completely rigid, and still Kiel continued to pump into her. His thickness speared her, piercing her from the inside out. Dragging over newly discovered nerve endings she never knew could set her aflame like this.

Pounding, pounding, his rapid thrusts rode the crest of her pleasure, extending it in huge boiling waves. Suddenly her pleasure turned white-hot. A second orgasm rocketed through her, and this time J screamed.

Under her hands she felt Kiel stiffen. His hips jerked once, twice, three times before a groan rolled out from between his clenched teeth.

The brightness was fading but not completely away. Reality was gradually coalescing back into the present. Her body, however, continued to shiver from its torture. Its exquisite, beautiful torture.

Sleep pulled on her, making it hard to concentrate and harder to stay awake. J felt Kiel lift her legs higher, throwing her feet behind the small of his back, then rolling onto his side and taking her with him. Strong arms wrapped around her back, and she was gathered firmly against his chest.

Warm lips kissed her hairline. “Sleep, my love,” he murmured. “Rest, my darling.”

She felt him nuzzle her forehead, but before she could respond, she sank into sleep.

Chapter 4

Thursday

Kiel lowered his face and pressed a kiss to J’s sweaty forehead. She was asleep, totally exhausted from the stress of the past two days, and then tonight. But for this time with her, at this moment, Kiel would sell his soul to remain this way forever.

She was wrapped around him like a cocoon. His partially deflated erection was still deeply embedded within her and still feeling the aftershocks of her muscles quivering around his shaft as they tried to both expel him and swallow him even further within her depths. Her warmth penetrated into his very bones, if he still had them.

He hadn’t known if he could make love to her. He only knew that he had prayed for it to be a possibility. If he could solidify enough for others to be able to touch him, if he was capable of kissing her, then his hopes of taking her physically had seemed very likely. At least, that’s what he had kept telling himself all day as his mind never strayed too far from her.

The argument of whether or not he deserved her had been dismissed long ago. J had been right to tell him that he had to live for the now, for what he had now. Not whine about what should have happened. “Should have happened” was wasted time. “Now” was what they had. Together. If he wasted that, Kiel knew he would never have another chance.

J loved him. As incredible as it was, this brave yet vulnerable woman was willing to give him her most precious gift in the little time they had. Her sacrifice not only humbled him, it devastated him. There was nothing he could give her in return that would equal it. There was nothing he could do, or say, or offer that would equal this precious part of her life that she willingly let him have.

He tasted the salt of her sweat, and a brief thread of regret went through him. Spirits have no blood, no body fluids, no sweat. He couldn’t spit or moisten his dry lips. Neither could he give her anything that would remind her of his possession of her. Yes, he’d had an orgasm—an ingrained memory and bodily reaction that his mind had replayed over for him at the exact instant he needed it. With her it had been the perfect moment, the most perfect release, but there had been no semen. No sperm. Thus, there was no chance of impregnating her, despite the secret wish that he could give her some small token of himself to remember him by after he was gone.

He was not disappointed as much as he was saddened by the absence.

At this moment her heartbeat echoed inside his chest like a second rhythm. Her breathing labored in his lungs. The cadence of her blood rushed through both their bodies. In the end, however, it was all a mirage. No matter how detailed he made it appear that he was still living, in the end he was just as dead.

Carefully he disengaged himself from her limbs and dematerialized until he was standing beside the divan, looking down at her. If he was gone too long she would get cold and possibly wake up to find him gone. That would terrify her. After pulling the small afghan over her, Kiel vanished from the room.

Quickly, he checked the yard and grounds outside the house to make sure all was safe and secure for the night. The streets were wet from a brief shower. Curls of steam rose from the damp tarmac like miniature fogbanks, sending a sharp reek into the air. The moon was nearly at the first quarter and on the downward slope. Dawn was a few short hours away. Good. That meant there was time to love her again.

Sam’s reminder to him that he was supposed to spend the night with her hadn’t been so much a reminder than it had been a shove. Both he and his brother had struck out repeatedly in the romance department, but neither one teased or joked the other about it. They had pretty much assumed they would remain solitary, leaning only on each other for support until the job finally got to them. Sam must have seen the connection growing between him and J. He had rejoiced in it, and his nudging had been his way of letting Kiel know he was backing him one hundred percent, even if he was dead.

It was, to say the least, an unusual circumstance. A blind psychic in love with a dead man, who had come back as a spirit to find the person responsible for his death and/or his body. Good heavens, it sounded like the plot to a bad B-rated horror movie. Kiel smiled in spite of the irony.

J shifted on the divan. Kiel felt her movement and instantly reappeared back in the parlor. Gradually, like smoke, he resumed his place in her embrace, into her body, fitting her as though she had been made for him. Delicious warmth filtered through him.

Closing his eyes, he draped his free arm around her back and held her. She shifted again until she was snug under his chin. A deep sigh feathered over his chest. If he could have cried at that moment, Kiel knew he would have.

What was going to happen to her when he was gone? It was a question he had wrestled with ever since J had told him she loved him. Eventually he would have to discuss it with Sam. Hopefully, the two of them could come up with some way of making sure she was taken care of after he departed the realm of the living. Someone had to give her comfort when she mourned. Kiel trusted no one else but Sam to be there for her. No one else but Sam would understand what she was going through. And J would be the only person who would understand what Sam was facing, as well.

“You are my dearest love,” he whispered into her hair. “I stopped looking long ago for someone to share my life with. My work kept me too busy. And then, hell, I died. I’ll never understand what brought us together, but I’ll never forget you. I’ll take the taste and smell of you into the afterlife with me. I’ll always remember the sound of your voice and the look in your eyes. You may be blind, J, but your eyes tell me everything.” Pressing his lips again to her forehead, he let his mouth slowly slide downward, past her temple and small ear, stopping when he reached her cheek. J moved again in his embrace, accompanied by an involuntary clenching of her muscles around his softened erection. Immediately, he reacted, until he was as hard and heavy as before.

The sensation awakened both their libidos.

Of the handful of women he had made love to during his brief lifetime, Kiel had never brought anyone from the depths of sleep with the act. But every moment he remained on this earth was too precious to waste, especially now that he and J had found each other.

Careful to keep her from falling off the divan, he rolled her onto her back and propped his arms on either side of her shoulders. Instinctively she folded her arms over her chest and sighed.

He tasted her cheek again, luxuriating in the sweetness of her body. Her warm silkiness was intoxicating, more potent and heady than a strong drink. Oh, God, she was absolutely the most beautiful thing he had ever encountered in his whole life. Before he was aware of his own actions, his hips thrust slightly, burrowing himself deeper inside her. The movement elicited a tiny moan from her. He could feel her muscles firming beneath and around him as she fought the heavy pull of sleep.

“Kiel?”

Her earlobe was velvet. The skin below it was a thin film of silk covering her pulse. Kiel drew a deep breath to savor her, and he dove back into her body. “I’m sorry, J.”

Small hands traced his chest and shoulders, then rounded his neck to cling to him. “For what?

“For awakening you. I know you must be exhausted.” His lips skimmed her throat until he found the hollow where a slight moistness lay. Eagerly he tongued her sweat, and J moaned again. Steadily he continued to move in and out of her where their joining was fast becoming hotter and wetter with every thrust.

“Kiel, I do love you.”

The simple confession tore at him. “I know, honey, but it can’t compare to how much I’m in love with you.”

Raising his head, he gazed down at her lovely features as they reflected dark gold in the pale light of the oil lamp. Shifting slightly, he waited for J to readjust her legs around his waist before continuing his plunges. No further words passed between them as the maelstrom of feelings expanded and contracted like a rising heartbeat—promising, retreating, growing, retreating. The gentle roughness of her inner channel walls rasped across the thin sleeve of skin, over heightened nerves, forcing the sensations to shoot through him like fireworks. Until finally their climax suddenly broke through, exploding like a geyser, rising higher and higher, spreading outward with far-reaching tendrils, and covering them from head to toe. J jerked as she gasped and clutched at Kiel’s shoulders. Burying his face against hers, Kiel dug his hands underneath her and tried to remain as deeply embedded in her as possible. His whole body shuddered in the aftermath.

For long, long minutes they simply lay there, wanting to extend this precious, perfect moment for as long as possible. It was a tug on his hair that finally made him lift his head from the curve of her neck where he had made his pillow.

“Am I too heavy for you?”

He watched as J opened her eyes and started to answer him when her brows suddenly jerked downward. A second later, her hazel gaze widened in shock.

“Oh my God! Kiel! I can see you!”

He froze in disbelief. “What?”

“I mean, not see see you, but…” A trembling finger touched the tip of his nose with unerring accuracy. Tears filled her eyes, forcing her to blink them away so she wouldn’t lose sight of him. “In your aura your face is outlined, like it’s covered with a thousand tiny lights.” She ran a fingertip over his brows, paused, then touched his lower lip, skimming the surface of his mouth. “Where did you get the scar?”

“Which one?” he whispered. Her touch was like magic, filling him with tenderness.

A finger tapped the top of his right cheek. “Two puncture wounds. Right here. Old scars.”

“Mr. Hindell’s English bulldog bit me when I was six. Can you really see me, J?”

Her smile widened, encompassing him with such love it left him breathless.

“You are the most wonderful sight in the world. Kiel, my love, you’re beautiful!”

Somehow he managed to scoff. “Men aren’t beautiful. Handsome, yes. But you don’t use words like beautiful to describe a man.”

“You’re beautiful to me,” J argued with a playful little pout.

Seeing how her lips pursed petulantly was too much for him to resist, and Kiel bent down to kiss her. To his delight she no longer hesitated to tease him with her tongue. Angling his mouth over hers, he drank of her offerings both physical and emotional.

It wasn’t until he felt her hands patting insistently against his sternum that he broke away from her. Raising his head, he started to ask her what she needed when J began to wriggle out from underneath him. Reluctantly he pulled out and away from her, rolled onto his side, and watched as she tossed him a mischievous grin and got to her feet.

“How fast can you move?”

“Huh?” Standing in the soft glow of the lamp, her skin glistened from their previous lovemaking. Her pale pink nipples were still erect. She was as perfect as any sculptor’s statue.

“How fast can you get upstairs? Betcha I can beat you to the bedroom!”

Before he could answer her, J turned and dashed out of the library. A moment later he could hear her pounding up the carpeted stairs. Giving a loud laugh, he vanished from the divan and materialized at the top of the staircase scant seconds ahead of her.

She collided with him with a shriek and a sigh of giggles. He tried to put his arms around her, but she danced to the side and dashed off to the right, around the railing. She didn’t stop until her hand slapped the doorframe leading to her room. “Beat you!” she crowed.

“No fair. You knew which one it was. I didn’t.”

Instead of answering him, she disappeared inside. Kiel followed to find her jerking back the covers off a canopy bed as she crawled underneath the remaining sheet. He paused long enough to take in the massive old furniture and the little touches which spoke of this room as being her personal sanctuary. With his ghostly vision he could see every detail as clearly as if it were day. He really didn’t need light. The lantern and fireplace had merely been ambience.

There was a soft pat on the bed. “Are you going to stand there the rest of the night, or are you going to keep me company?”

Crawling into the bed beside her, Kiel gasped in surprise to feel her hand reaching for him between his legs. “My dear, what kind of upbringing did you say you had?” he teased her before he chuckled.

It was the wrong thing to say. Immediately J jerked back her hand. A look of consternation crossed her lovely features. “I’m sorry. I’m not supposed to do that?”

Laughing softly, Kiel grabbed her hand and brought it back to where she had been touching him. “I was kidding. You can touch me all you want. In fact, you might notice I kinda like it.” Her caresses over his member were having a direct affect on him, and there was no way she could misinterpret its movements in her palm.

“Kiel?” She snuggled closer to him. Her free hand continued to explore his body, memorizing him.

“Yeah, honey?”

“If you’re still around tomorrow night…”

He saw her biting her lower lip. “If I’m still around tomorrow night…” he echoed to urge her on.

“Would you spend the night with me again?”

“J, if it were possible, I’d make it a point to spend every night with you for the rest of our existence.”

The stroking stopped. He could hear the wavering in her voice as she asked, “Honestly?”

“Or until you kick me out,” he replied, trying to make light of the situation. It was either that, or be reminded of the hopelessness of their situation.

The tug on his now fully engorged erection made him groan. “Is that a proposal, Mr. Stark?”

“I wish it was, honey.”

“Well, can we at least pretend it was?”

“For whatever time we have together, yeah.” He placed a tender kiss to her forehead. “Yeah, J. It was a proposal.”

“Then my answer is yes,” she breathed softly, giving him another tug.

They sealed their promise with more than a kiss.

* * * *

“He’s a cop! He’s a fuckin’ cop!”

There was a scream and a strangled cry, both muted by the confusion. Fire and firepower combined into one intense roar of hate and anger. Bodies passed beyond the burning lab, casting shadows over the scene.

Sam threw a hand over his eyes to shield them from the glare as he stared into the mass, trying to find the one person he feared for. Trying to find some evidence as to where he was. Rancid smoke filled his lungs and stung his eyes until tears rolled down his cheeks. He coughed, struggling to breathe.

Gunshots echoed in the abandoned garage. A bullet passed by with a high-pitched whine, like a giant mosquito. He stumbled over overturned chairs and other unidentifiable debris.

“Kiel! Kiel!”

“Sam!”

It was his brother’s voice, weak and filled with fear. There were some muttered curses, not from him, and the smacking sound of something hard meeting flesh.

There were shadows off to his right. A flash of Kiel’s face reflected in the firelight. Blood was running down the side of his face and his eyes were closed. Two men Sam didn’t recognize were dragging him by the arms toward the rear of the garage.

“Halt! Police! Let him go!” He aimed for the biggest one and fired. The guy flinched when the bullet found him, but he continued to drag his hostage.

Someone came up beside him, an undercover cop by the name of Uvalde, looking ragged and soot-streaked. He held his service revolver at shoulder level.

“They got Kiel!” Sam snapped.

“Who did?”

“Two of ’em. I didn’t recognize them. They went out the back.” Instead of waiting for the man to answer him, Sam started off in that direction. Vaguely he was aware of a call being sent out to the officers surrounding the garage to be on the lookout.

Outside the air was fresher. He dragged the stuff deep into his lungs to clear out the stench. In the dark he could see nothing. The growing fire behind him played tricks with his eyes. Pulling his flashlight out of his back pocket, Sam scoured the gravel for some sign of where they had gone. He finally found footprints which led from the back, away from the garage. A twin trail of scuff marks ran between them. Kiel’s. He had to be unconscious or else he would have been walking, if not trying to fight them.

The tracks led down a small rise to a dirt patch wide enough to park a car. Only there was no vehicle there, just a fresh wet patch in the center. Sam fingered the stuff and sniffed it. Transmission fluid.

Uvalde came jogging up next to him as the sounds of the bust gone bad faded behind them.

“Whatcha got?”

“Nothing.” Sam shook his head as he stood and faced the nearby empty street. “Not a fucking thing. There were two of ’em, and they got Kiel, but I managed to tag one of them. There’s no telling who they were or what they were driving.”

“Kiel can take care of himself,” the undercover cop tried to sound upbeat.

A coldness trickled through him. For some reason he couldn’t explain, Sam knew that this time Kiel wouldn’t be getting out of this situation alive. “Let’s hope so,” he answered anyway.

* * * *

Sam jerked awake. His body was coated with sweat. The sheets and blanket were lying in a twisted heap on the floor beside the bed. He lay there for several long moments and willed his heart to slow down. He was gasping for air just as he had done the night of the bust. Damn, but he could still taste the acidic stench of smoke in his mouth.

It was daylight. A quick glance at the bedside clock read a little past seven. His muscles eased a bit as the world gradually came into focus. Then it slammed into him, and he sniffed long and loud.

No coffee.

Oh, fuck! No!

His feet hit the floor with a thud. Sam hurried into the kitchen to verify what his nose had told him. The coffee carafe sat upside-down on the drainboard where he’d left it yesterday. There was no fresh brew waiting for him, which meant there was no Kiel. His knees threatened to give way.

A bitterness roiled in his gut, threatening to throw him into upheavals. Sam forced his stomach to settle, unaware that he was clenching his hands into white-knuckled fists.

Kiel was gone.

The tightness in his chest nearly blindsided him, until he remembered.

Kiel spent the night with J.

Sam gasped for breath and heard it whine in his throat. He scrambled for the wall phone, nearly dropping the receiver in his haste to punch in the department’s number.

“Homicide. Lieutenant Karl.”

“George? Sam Reese. Can you transfer me over to the captain?”

“Hold on.”

There was a buzz on the line, then the weary sound of the boss’ voice. “Homicide. Captain Redd.”

“Sam Reese. I need the phone number to Miss Laurent’s residence.”

“Something happen? Hold on.” There was the sound of papers being shuffled. The captain’s breath huffed over the receiver. “You still there?”

“Yeah.” He memorized the number the captain repeated twice and started to hang up when he was again asked if there was anything wrong. “Kyle and I think we may be on to something,” he said. As it was, they were a hairsbreadth away from bringing him the information about what they’d learned about the dump sites. “We’ll have a new report on your desk soon,” he promised, and hung up. With shaking hands, Sam first said a quick prayer then dialed the number to J’s house.

One ring. Two.

“Hello?” Her voice was soft, sodden with sleep and weariness. Sam smiled in spite of himself.

“J? Sorry to wake you. This is Sam. Is Kiel there?”

“Yeah. Just a sec.”

He heard a faint, “It’s Sam,” as she gave his brother the receiver.

“What’s up, bro?” said a familiar voice.

It was enough to drain the rest of his anxieties from his body.

“Checking up on you,” he admitted. “I got up and didn’t smell coffee, so I—”

Before he could finish, Kiel interrupted. “No problem. I understand. What time is it?”

“Getting close to seven thirty. Were you going to pop over here? Or do you want me to come by and pick you up?”

“Come by, would you? Give us a little more time together,” Kiel suggested.

Sam knew his brother didn’t like doing the disappearing bit when they were at the station house. There was too much of a risk of being caught in the act, and no way of explaining it if he was seen. So meeting him at the station was out of the question. Arriving together at work like they normally did wouldn’t raise any eyebrows, even if it meant Sam had to drive all the way over to J’s place first to get him. Besides, there was no way Sam would object to letting them have a few extra minutes to say good morning and goodbye.

“Okay. I’ll be there in half an hour.”

“Anything happen last night?”

Sam knew the captain would have said something if there had been another body discovered. “Nope. See you soon,” he promised and hung up.

The tension inside his chest unknotted, allowing his heart to start beating again. Kiel was still with them, at least for another day. Damn, there went his eyes again, getting all watery. Giving his head a shake, Sam hurried into the bathroom for a quick shower. He would have to be satisfied with grabbing a cup of java on the way over to J’s because heaven knew station coffee was barely two stages above ground sludge.

* * * *

Kiel was standing by the front gate when Sam pulled up. He got in on the passenger side and they slid back into the flow of traffic, neither man saying anything as Sam drove them to the station. They were nearly there when Kiel spoke.

“My body has to be at that big warehouse where I was killed.”

“Wherever that place is.”

“I’ll find it,” Kiel insisted. Then with less enthusiasm, he repeated, “I’ll find it.”

“Okay.” Giving it another second or two, Sam then asked, “You’re positive on this one?”

Peripherally, he could see the younger man nod. “The other bodies were left where they were known to sell the drugs. They were left there to be found, to send a message to the others once the media got hold of it. The first two, the ones who kidnapped me, they ran their deals out of the chop shop. The next three, they obviously set up the lab in that apartment complex.”

“But we didn’t find any lab there,” Sam reminded him.

“We didn’t search the rest of the apartments.” Kiel eyed him. “I need to go back over there and do a thorough search.”

Pulling into the precinct parking lot, Sam stopped the car in his designated slot and shoved the gear in park. But instead of turning off the ignition, he turned to face his partner. “How are you going to find the right warehouse?”

“The answer’s in that apartment complex.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I can feel it. I don’t know how or why, but there’s something that doesn’t add up. And there’s a ton of things that will, once I find the right clues.”

“What clues? CSU’s been all over that place.”

“I know that, but I want to go over and look for myself. I want to confront Conader, if I can, and find out what he did to me. What he did to my body.”

Sam stared out over the dashboard. “The CSU’s report should be filed by now. I’ll check it over and see if there’s anything they found that could give us an idea where to start. Or look.” A comfortable silence fell between them. Sam returned a fellow officer’s wave as the man passed by on the way to his squad car.

“Sam?”

“Hmm.” His eyes remained riveted on the back door where officers and detectives entered and exited to and from the parking lot.

“Promise me you’ll take care of J after I’m gone,” Kiel softly asked.

Sam looked at his half-brother. “You know I will.”

“This has gone way beyond what either of us expected. On one hand I hate the fact that I had to get tangled up in her life.”

“But on the other hand you hate the fact that you won’t be able to share her life,” Sam finished for him.

“She’s a very remarkable woman, Sam. She has a strength that surprises me. She doesn’t even think of herself as being handicapped.” He slowly shook his head. “She’s had to be alone most of her life. I can’t bear the thought of her being alone for the rest of it.”

“Don’t worry, Kiel. I’m looking forward to having a sister. At least she’ll be easier on the eyes.” He gave the man a lopsided grin. He was given a snort of laughter in return. “Go on. Take off for the apartment. I’ll stay here and get an update over to the captain so he’ll stay off our backs.”

Kiel nodded, glanced around the parking lot to make certain they weren’t being watched, and vanished. Sam hurried inside to make an appearance before the captain put out an all-call on them.

He was met inside by Anne Dornaby, one of the lab techs. Spotting him, her face lit up, and she hurried to catch up with him. “Sam! Wait up!” She waved a folder at him as she fell in step. “I was about to drop this over on your desk.”

“What is it?” he asked, flipping it open.

“Some of the debris the guys picked up in one of the apartments included a few partially destroyed lists. It’s taken me quite a while to work it through the ’scopes, but I’ve managed to pull some names and places, and numbers.”

Sam raised a brow at her. The woman grinned in reply.

“You owe me big time, Reese,” she promised him before peeling off and taking the next hallway to their right.

Sam continued on into the main office area, plunked down into his squeaky chair and spread the data out in front of him.

Most of what he was reading was incomplete jumbles of letters and numbers. At least it appeared that way at first glance. But when he put himself in the mind frame of where the list had been discovered, he began to make sense of the list.

Names. Places. Amounts owed or due. Payments made or taken.

Sam mouthed an expletive.

Pulling up his computer screen, he typed in his password and brought up the databank. The first name on the photo of the bloodstained list was a partial. Typing in what was legible, he clicked on the search button, then sat back and let technology come up with a list of possibles.

* * * *

Miss Cassie found her sitting at the table in the kitchen. J was still in her robe. An empty paper plate sat before her bearing traces of maple syrup. Fingers were wrapped around a cup of coffee. Cassie shook her head.

“How many of them frozen waffles did you have?”

J jumped, letting Cassie know the woman hadn’t heard her enter the room. A weary smile greeted her in return. “Good morning to you, too. Don’t harp about my frozen waffles.”

“I’ll harp any time I see you not eating properly. A couple of eggs with bacon would fill you up better than those flash-frozen pieces of cardboard would.” The woman gave her a closer examination. “You’re looking a bit peaked. You’re not coming down with anything, are you?”

“No. Just a little tired.” J took another sip of her coffee then got to her feet. “I think I’ll go sit outside on the patio for a while.” Behind her she could hear the woman fussing in the kitchen as she got ready to do her daily chores.

After refreshing her cup, J went outside to sit underneath the huge oak. There was a slight breeze smelling faintly of ozone. Rain wasn’t too far away, but she wasn’t going back inside until she felt the drops. Besides, she wanted to be alone. For once. No, not alone as in solitary, but alone to think. And reflect. And relive the night before.

That incredible night last night.

They had talked. And loved. And teased each other. Loved some more, and laughed. Kiel had been patient with her, answering her halting questions with frankness, and not making her feel stupid for asking. There was so much to learn and learn about. He was her first, and she couldn’t get enough of him. She would never get enough of the feel of him. Or the taste of him. Or the smell of him.

He said his hair was the color of mums, golden yellow. His eyes were hazel like hers. But he smelled like nothing she had ever smelled before in her life. It was a rich smell, intoxicating to the point of making her dizzy. Musky almost. But definitely the most erotic smell she could remember.

She had asked him if he always smelled this way, or if it was because of what he now was. Kiel had shrugged off her question because he honestly didn’t know the answer. He didn’t have to take showers anymore. He didn’t get dirty. He did answer her query about clothing, though. The fact that he could see a suit in an ad in the newspaper or on television, then recreate that same look on himself was what he called part of the illusion. It was one of several tricks he’d learned and used to appear alive.

More than that, he had awakened in her a sensuality she never knew she had. A wantonness that surprised and embarrassed her. A hunger for raw sex that continued to burn inside her even now.

J sipped her coffee. Somewhere to her left a thrush called out a warning to other males. She shifted in her lawn chair, and the soreness between her legs flared like a wedge of heated pleasure. A moan rose in her chest. If Kiel was here, she knew she would beg for him to take her again, regardless of her swollen flesh.

This wasn’t a fling for him, any more than it was for her. J could spot the truth in anyone’s aura, and when Kiel told her he loved her, that truth brought out a sparkling edge to his intense brightness. He had captured her soul with his. Captured, claimed, and stamped it with his mark.

A tear slid down her cheek. Hastily she wiped it away. It would do no good to cry. At least, not now. She had to save her tears—

Amos.

…for the time being.

J froze. Something had flashed into her mind. A name. Keeping still, she waited a moment to see if it would repeat itself, or if there was more, but after a little while she caught nothing else. Sagging, she took another sip of her cooling coffee.

“J?”

Again she jerked at the interruption in her thoughts. Pasting a smile on her face, she answered, “Yes?”

Miss Cassie was standing at the back door, looking down at her through the screen. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Nodding, J replied, “Just running over some details. What’s the matter?” Miss Cassie knew of her abilities. The older woman was one of the few people she trusted with the truth.

“You still working on that case with the police?”

“Yeah, but we’re at a standstill at the moment.”

“Okay. Anyway, I found your clothes you left on the floor by your grandmother’s divan. Did you sleep there last night?”

A hot flush burned her face, but J kept her gaze averted from the woman’s sharp eyes. “I fell asleep downstairs but I woke up some time in the night and went upstairs.”

“Did you know you got blood on that velvet? I’m afraid I’ll ruin the nap if I try to scrub it out. You may have to send the whole thing to a professional cleaner.”

“Could you check the phone book and see if there’s one who can take the divan?” J asked.

“All right. I’ll go ahead and change out the sheets on your bed, too, even though it’s not laundry day.”

Faint sounds of scuffling feet told J the woman had gone back inside the house, leaving the back door open the way J had left it. Miss Cassie had learned long ago that if she had to move or change anything in the house, she had to let J know so J wouldn’t worry if she went searching for something and couldn’t find it where she knew she’d left it. Otherwise, she’d be reduced to playing a game of hide and seek.

Blood on the divan. J touched the bandage on her hand. The wound there didn’t hurt, but she knew that wasn’t where she’d bled. Miss Cassie was probably thinking she had started her period. Well, let her. She couldn’t bring herself to tell the woman about Kiel. At least, not now. Not yet. Not when the scent of him still clung to her hands. Not when she could still taste his kisses in her mouth. Least of all now when the sense of him inside her brought back memories so strong she could feel her nipples hardening into tight points. A shudder enveloped her, spilling some of the lukewarm coffee in her lap.

“Damn.” She brushed half-heartedly at the wetness. What did she plan to do today? Sit around and mope?

Carter.

J froze. Her breath barely moved through her lungs as she waited.

Foscelli.

“Miss Cassie! Miss Cassie!” Getting to her feet, J hurried into the kitchen and aimed for the wall phone hanging near the doorway leading into the dining room.

Screams piercing her ears. Blood splashing in wide arcs across the floor, making footing slippery. Impossible to stand. Unable to get a grip on anything to fight back.

“Miss Cassie!”

She couldn’t find the phone. Someone had moved the phone. Her hands beat against the wall as she frantically searched for the object.

“Miss Cassie!”

The radio in the kitchen droned on. Some nonsensical jingle for a car company. J’s fingers touched something. The shape was wrong to be the phone. It jumped off the wall and fell to the floor with a crunch.

Mitch. You ain’t takin’ it away from me, motherfucker! You hear! It’s mine! Mine! The juicy smack of blood and bone. Pieces of a human being spackling the cement floor.

“J? Sweet Jesus! I’m here. What? What’s wrong?”

“Where’s the phone?” she called out over her shoulder.

Quickly, efficiently, the older woman grabbed the receiver and shoved it into J’s shaking hands. “Who do you want me to dial?”

“Nine-one-one.”

Before the line could ring, a cool voice answered, “Nine-one-one. What’s your emergency?”

“My name is J Laurent. Get me Captain Redd over at the Aaron Street Station. Hurry!”

“This line is for emergency calls only, Miss. You can call the station direct—”

Shrieks of pain, growing into screams of sheer horror. Agonizing. The sounds of something pounding. Something being pounded. Dull, wet, ripping noises as the screams lessened, growing weaker.

“I’m blind!” J nearly yelled into the mouthpiece. “Tell the captain someone’s being murdered. Right now!”

There was the sound of distant typing. “Where is this murder taking place? Is it at your residence?”

J knew the call-board would be showing her home address. “No. It’s at the apartment complex. The captain knows which one I’m talking about. I don’t know the address, but you have to get someone over there now!”

“Just calm down, Miss. I’ll relay your message over to the Aaron Street Station as you requested. In the meantime I’m sending over a couple of officers to take your statement.”

J slammed the receiver back into the cradle and turned to head for the stairs.

“J! Where are you going?” Cassie called out to her.

“I gotta get over to that apartment building,” she said over her shoulder before running up the staircase. Once inside her bedroom she quickly threw some water on her face and brushed her hair into a ponytail. Donning one of her shift dresses, she tied a scarf over her head, grabbed her shoes and cane, and went back downstairs. During her preparations she’d heard the phone ring twice more and knew Cassie answered them.

The visions weren’t hampering her any longer. In a way J was thankful. Her body felt unusually chilled from the experience.

“Nine-one-one called back,” Cassie said as J sat on the next-to-the-bottom step to put on her shoes. “I told them you did some work for the police department and that you were blind. Some supervisor told me he would relay your message.”

“Who called the second time?”

“Some detective named Reese. He’s on his way over to pick you up.”

* * * *

Under the gray skies the apartment building looked like the discarded husk of an insect that had outgrown it and moved on. The windows were black, reflecting the empty rooms and hallways inside. Kiel steeled his nerve and disappeared from the rear courtyard, reappearing in the sixth floor corridor.

He planned to go from room to room, apartment to apartment. His ultimate goal was to find his body, but he held out little hope of finding it here. However, there was the remote chance of him finding some clue that would provide him with the information he was seeking.

Closing his eyes, he stood in the middle of the first apartment at the end of the hall. He would work his way toward the elevator, then start on the other end of the building and repeat his actions. Hopefully by concentrating whatever spiritual energy he possessed, he could sense whether or not that particular apartment was connected somehow, someway, to the Shredder. Any kind of clue, any kind of vibe, that’s all he needed.

Fortunately it didn’t take him long once he was inside the main living area of each apartment unit. So far each dark and empty set of rooms gave him nothing to go on. No sense of foreboding or distant backwashes of violence could be felt. If he didn’t know any better, Kiel would think the place was just another abandoned building sitting on the fringe between the slum area of town and the revitalized section.

Once he was finished on the sixth floor, he went to the fifth and repeated his investigation of each unit. Every nerve in his body remained on alert for the first sign of Conader. The demon driving the man was not happy Kiel had returned to the building. This visit wouldn’t suit well either. Sooner or later the vengeful spirit would not let Kiel get by with another warning. Before long his visits would be taken as a direct threat or challenge, resulting in a confrontation he dreaded to think about.

But if the inevitable was to occur, it would occur without J or Sam present. There was no way he would allow either of them to become part of the equation.

An unexpected warmth raced through him at the thought of J, forcing Kiel to a halt. His hands clenched involuntarily as he recalled last night. Recalled the creamy texture of her skin. Her sweet fragrance and innocent passion. The drugged, sated sound of her voice as she begged for more.

Remembering her hunger, he leaned against a wall, using the rigid frame behind him to help hold him up. Dearest heavens, the mere thought of her and the way she had opened herself up to him made his knees weak.

Running a trembling hand over his face, Kiel tried for the umpteenth time to find some justification for it all. Why would he find someone with J’s caring and compassion at a time when he was least able to accept it? It made no sense. Dammit, nothing made sense!

Slamming his fist against the wall didn’t hurt, but it made a nice thudding sound. Throwing a curse word into the echoing, empty room, he left it and continued with his methodical hunt. If he had put two thoughts together he would have brought a cell phone with him so he could call Sam. He wanted to check in to see if the labs had found out anything, to compare notes, or, if nothing else, just to bounce theories off of. But he didn’t dare materialize back at the station.

Finishing with the fifth floor and finding nothing, Kiel toyed with the idea of going over to J’s to use her phone.

Oh, crap, who was he kidding? He didn’t want to use J’s phone. He wanted to use her. Kiel grimaced as he felt his entire body flare up with anticipation. He wanted to sink himself into her innermost depths and have her cover him with her soul that was like a veil of the purest silk.

He stood there for a moment and allowed himself the luxury of remembering her taste, her passion. He felt himself swelling inside his pants, and laughed. A ghost with a hard-on. That was definitely one for the books.

Opening his eyes, Kiel stared down the long hallway. Going through every apartment was going to take time. Hours. But, hey, it was part of the job. More often than not, additional information could always be gleaned from on site investigations. If it was physical evidence, it could be sent to the labs for further analysis. But if all he could gain was of the mental variety, that could prove invaluable, too. Hell, gut instinct was a cop’s most important attribute.

Kiel turned to enter the next apartment when a sudden twist in his stomach stopped him. The sensation of pain was not as shocking as the shill scream echoing inside his skull. He stumbled as he held his head between his hands, wondering what was happening to him, until a vision came crashing down.

An enormous hand holding a slick, wet stick dripping gore. Blood and tissue. It descended again and again. Over and over. And every time it was raised overhead, the redness dribbled down the wrist and arm.

The twist in his intestines tightened. It was death reminding him one more time of his dubious existence in this world. Of how unsteadily he walked the tightrope between life and nonlife.

A second cry rattled between his eyes. The truth whacked him with a proverbial two-by-four.

Someone was being murdered.

Kiel gasped at the realization. Someone was being viciously slaughtered at that exact moment. And the evil resonating from the act had him in its grip.

Systematically, he began to pop from room to room, staying inside each apartment for less than a second before going back to the hallway and taking the next door. Yes, he knew it was probably the wrong way to go about it. In the back of his mind a little voice told him just to melt through all the walls in a straight line, first up one side of the building, then traverse across the hall to go down the next row of rooms. But his ethereal shifting between solid and smoke was still too new and uncertain for him. Kiel felt he would end up running into something, delaying him even more. But doing it this way was systematic. Repetitive. It was easy to control and easier to maintain.

The fifth floor was a washout. Drifting down to the next floor, Kiel knew the moment he reached the fourth, the terror was here and not too far away. Horror was rolling toward him on invisible clouds, thick and impossible to avoid. The acrid scent of blood seeped through the walls and floors, tinting the air with its fetid presence.

It was when he reached apartment 402 that the carnage became evident. A heavy scream ripped the air just as Kiel filtered through the door. The carpet and furniture were saturated. Pieces of human detritus lay in scattered bits on the walls and ceiling. Something that faintly resembled a finger fell from the ceiling light, almost hitting Kiel before landing silently at his feet.

He ran for the back room, prepared for the worst, but the bedroom was empty. Empty of any body, or any sign of a struggle. Confused, Kiel checked the bath. Nothing. Ditto for the middle bedroom and bath.

But entering the living room again was like walking through an invisible force field. The blood seeping into the carpet was still warm, still pulsing with energy from the life forms it had spilled from.

“He’s already taken them,” Kiel muttered. “Killed them here, then took them elsewhere to be discovered.”

The deed had been done. He was too late to stop it, or to confront the killer. At that moment, Conader’s next victims were being dropped off, and chances were good the remains would be found within a few short hours.

“But why did he kill them here? Why this apartment? Why?” He almost growled with irritation as he paced the bloodstained carpet, searching for a clue, seeking anything that might provide an answer. It made no sense at all.

He started for the back bedroom again when his ears caught a sound. Kiel quickly appeared at the apartment balcony in time to see two squad cars running a code three as they slowed to pull into the parking lot below. Among them he spotted Sam’s car, and he instantly knew how they got to be here.

J.

Running his hands over himself, Kiel double-checked to make sure he had his human persona on correctly before popping downstairs to meet the others.

He was opening the back door just as the officers were making their way through the rubble. “In here!” he called out to them as he gestured. “Fourth floor. 402. Might want to hold off for few minutes, though. I’m not ready to release it yet.”

“How many?” It was Chui Hinojosa, a six-year veteran and excellent cop.

Kiel waved away the man’s pistol.

“Perp and victims are gone. The building’s empty.”

“Gone?”

The man looked genuinely confused, but he holstered his piece anyway. Behind him, Kiel watched Sam help J over the broken clutter. At one point she paused to stare at the cement mixer for several seconds.

Probably remembering the rebar she found there. He made a mental note to ask her, just in case there might be something else she’d gleaned that could prove valuable.

She spotted him before they connected. The bright smile she wore was meant especially for him. Kiel had to fight the urge to kiss her in front of witnesses. If there had been just Sam, he wouldn’t have held back.

“The bodies are gone,” J announced as he took her hand.

Kiel nodded to confirm as the expected ribbon of warmth and love wove itself up his arm and into his body. He was no longer surprised by her abilities.

“J saw it happen,” Sam said.

“What?”

“She called 9-1-1 to let them know.”

Kiel turned to address her directly. “I figured you had done something with everyone showing up. Was it Conader?”

“Yes. And I got four more names. Amos, Carter, Mitch, and Foscelli.” She gave a little shake of her head. “Do any of them ring a bell?”

She looked pale. Definitely shaken. If she had witnessed those men’s death, it was no wonder. Kudos to her for coming back here.

Kiel opened his mouth to tell her the names didn’t jive.

Sam answered first. “Oh, yeah.”

“Yeah? How?”

“Tell you later. They’re waiting on us.” Sam acknowledged the two patrol officers waiting in the doorway leading into the apartment building. More people were joining them, mainly the coroner and CSU.

As they entered the building, Kiel informed Hinojosa to hold off letting the others inside until they could determine the scene was safe. The man nodded although he eyed the woman Sam was helping up the stairs.

Once they arrived on the fourth floor, J hesitated as she turned toward the hallway. Kiel noticed her reticence.

“He’s no longer here.”

“No, but his blackness is.”

He remembered the feeling of suffocation in the apartment’s living room. “You know, you don’t have to go down there if you don’t want to.”

“What I want to know is how you were able to tune in to those men being killed,” Sam broke in.

J shrugged slightly. “I don’t know. Maybe because I’ve been here before, and some of this place’s psychic energy still clings to me.”

Kiel looked at his brother. “You said the names were familiar?”

“Yeah. Come here and I’ll show you.” He led them over to the window at the end of the hall. Once there, he pulled out a piece of paper from an inner pocket of his jacket. “The lab sent me a message that they’d managed to pull some names and numbers from pieces of lists the unit had salvaged from the other murder sites.” Unfolding it, he handed it over to Kiel. “I put together a quick database. Took me until two this morning, but it was worth it.”

Kiel quickly scanned the paper. “Holy shit!”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded.

“What? What is it?” J broke in. “Hey, fellas. Give the blind lady a break.”

Sam obliged.

“It’s a breakdown of Conader’s inner circle, or as complete a list as we’re able to make.”

“So where do we stand? How many more of these murders do we have to look forward to?” She turned to face Sam, and if Kiel didn’t know any better, he would have sworn her eyes were pinning the man to the wall.

“Two more,” he broke in. “One BMOC, and one pissant.”

“English, Kiel.” She grinned.

Again, Sam took possession of the ball. “One big man on campus, one of Conader’s first-string lieutenants. Don’t know his name, but his initials are…” He glanced at Kiel for help.

“L. J.”

Both them stared at her with mouths open.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a name to go with the initials, would you? Because I sure as hell don’t,” Sam asked.

“Lawrence Jaynes.”

Kiel whistled appreciatively. “Is the guy still among the living?”

J remained silent and unmoving, as if listening to something in the distance. “I don’t know,” she finally replied. “What’s a pissant? A little guy?”

“Marvin Phillips. ‘Motor Marv’. A real nothing of a middleman. Just ran delivery to the main dealers. He was completely out of the circle when it came to the big guns planning Conader’s demise.” Sam tapped the paper. “I have an APB out on him, but I’m guessing he’s two states over by now.”

“Yeah.” Kiel nodded. “Conader isn’t interested in him, anyway. He’s after the main people who set him up. And according to this, once the Shredder deals with Mr. Jaynes, he can sit back and collect his eternal pension.”

“That’s it?” J asked. “Jaynes is the last one?”

“Looks that way, if our information is correct.”

“Well, what if he’s two states over, too?” she persisted.

“I dunno. Is it possible Conader could go after him?” Kiel asked, throwing the question up for grabs.

“He can’t,” J quickly replied. “Entities can’t travel outside their realm.”

Sam chuckled softly. “English, please.”

She cocked her head at him. “It’s simple. The Shredder has been able to travel between this complex and where the other bodies were found because he’d had a direct earthly tie to them. Sometime during his life, he had been to all those places. Probably had a business dealing at each place, too. But now that he’s dead, his bus won’t take him any place he’s never been. If Mr. Jaynes is lucky, he’ll go somewhere Conader’s never visited.”

“But Conader had a direct tie to Jaynes,” Sam pointed out.

“True. He can still haunt Jaynes through the man’s subconscious, but he physically can’t touch him if the guy is out of his realm.”

“So, what you’re saying is that Conader could conceivably haunt Jaynes for the rest of his life if he can’t manage to get his hands on him.”

“It’s not unheard of.”

Sam quickly refolded the paper and tucked it back inside his jacket pocket. “What kind of vibes are you getting from here, J? Is it safe to let the guys inside to do their usual?”

“Yeah. I’m good.”

“Kiel?”

“Same here. We’re gonna need to put out an APB on Jaynes.”

“I still want to check out the apartment,” J said.

Kiel took her hand. “Okay. Sam, I’ll take her over there if you want to go downstairs and give the all clear.”

“Can do. 402?” He glanced over his shoulder to see they had been standing less than a dozen feet away from the front door to the apartment in question. Without waiting for an answer, Sam took the stairwell to head back to the first floor.

Kiel glanced down to see J giving him a small smile.

“It’s okay,” she whispered as he took her hand. “Conader’s not here.”

“Maybe not now, but as long as there’s still one of his big dogs loose, he could come back here. Come on, J. Let’s do our thing and get out of here as quickly as possible.”

Chapter 5

Friday

“What time is it?”

“I have no idea. I stopped wearing a watch after I died.”

Kiel felt her laughter as she rolled away from him. Wearily, he turned his head to see what she was doing. There was a nightstand on the other side of the bed. J appeared to be messing with something on it. A moment later, she rolled back toward him and snuggled under his chin.

“It’s almost half past two.” She sighed loudly. “At least I don’t have to worry whether it’s morning or night.”

“Huh?”

J giggled. “Never mind.” She shifted more tightly against him, and the velvet feel of her skin sliding across his reignited the burning in his blood.

Slowly, he turned onto his side and moved his hand over her hip, up over her ribs, then to the swell of her breast. His thumb circled her rising nipple. With his nail, he lightly outlined the pale areola, scratching the pebbly tip just enough to make her catch her breath. Beneath his palm, he could feel her skin growing warmer.

“Kiel.”

“What, baby?”

“I’m cold.”

Grinning, he lifted himself off the sheets and carefully lowered his body onto hers. Her thighs were already spread, waiting for him as her arms wrapped around his neck. The kiss that followed was tender.

He could feel his erection lying on top of her lower belly, cradled in her soft nest. Moving his hips over it was like rubbing over rough silk. He didn’t expect his body to flare almost instantly in response.

Burying his face beside her cheek, he groaned softly as she reached down to grab him and guide him to her entrance. The moment the sensitive tip felt her heat and wetness, Kiel gently eased into her. J gasped as her body rose unconsciously to accept him, and he filled one hand with her breast.

Her juices were heady and rich, coating her with a scent that spoke to his carnal side. Her channel undulated, the inner muscles gripping, releasing, gripping, releasing him in perfect rhythm.

He never stopped being amazed at how exquisite it felt to make love to her. Even more, Kiel realized how lacking all of his past sexual exploits had been. None of them could compare with the feelings permeating his spirit whenever he touched her, whenever she touched him. Or the rapture that detonated inside him as she climaxed, nearly strangling his pulsing hard-on as he continued to ram it inside her incredible tightness.

Once he felt her sinking in the afterglow, he kissed her sweaty neck and shoulder, but kept his hand on her breast. It trembled with her heartbeat, keeping him as grounded as if he were tucked beneath it.

The room quieted until all he could hear was her breathing slowing into sleep. He was about to roll away from her when a hand touched his arm.

“No. Stay.”

“I was going to,” he whispered.

“I meant on top. You feel perfect.”

Rather than answer her, Kiel remained in place, stretched over her and between her thighs, and partly inside her. For the umpteenth time he wondered how he was able to do what he did, how he could make love to her without a real body, and how his ethereal self could react as if it was still mortal.

“What happens now?”

Her question took him by surprise. Lightly kissing her shoulder, he raised up enough to where he could see her face. It was pitch black in the bedroom, yet she was as clear to him as if he was looking at her in daylight.

“Now?”

Worry crossed her brow. “I meant next.”

“I’m sorry, J. I’m not following you.” He was still too consumed by their lovemaking to understand what she was talking about.

She ran her fingers through his hair. Again, the sensation soothed and surprised him.

“Today, when you and Sam were talking about the Shredder, and you said there was only one more guy left on the list. Jaynes. What happens if the Shredder kills him? Do you really think the Shredder will go away after that?”

“You know as much as I do, J.”

She adjusted her body slightly to ease a cramp, then sighed. Her hand continued to touch him, trailing her fingertips over his ear and down his jaw.

“No stubble.”

“Huh?”

“It’s probably the only flaw in your disguise, Kiel. I made a note of it this afternoon while you were helping with the investigation.”

That’s right. He should have been sporting a shadow as the investigation continued into the early evening. Although he was blond, his beard had a tendency to be reddish-gold.

They had spent a long time at the apartment complex as they tried to figure out the connection with 402. When the call eventually came that the bodies were discovered in an overgrown, abandoned field not six blocks from the chop shop, he and Sam had taken J over there to see if she could get anything from the victims’ remains. By the time they were ready to call it a day, it was late, and Sam and J were starving.

“Thanks. I’ll remember to adjust.”

“Kiel? What if…what if the Shredder doesn’t find Jaynes?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you think there’s a, I don’t know, a holding pattern for vengeful spirits? Kind of like an eternal waiting room? On the off chance that Jaynes could mistakenly end up back in the Shredder’s territory?”

“Hell, at this point, I could believe anything’s possible.”

“And you honestly think you won’t disappear until you find your body?”

“Yeah. That’s what Sam and I think. Whether or not Conader kills Jaynes, I believe the outcome of what’s happening with the Shredder won’t affect my circumstance. My dealings with him are over.” He have a humorless little chuckle and nuzzled her cheek. “Jennifer. Jessica. Joan. Joanna. Jill. No! Jillian!”

J let out a cry, which ended in a fit of giggles. She playfully slapped him on the buttocks. “Stop it! What did you do? Memorize a name dictionary?

“I’m persistent. What can I say?” He started to ground himself against her again. “Let’s stop talking about the job. There are more pleasurable things we could be doing.”

“I thought we already did it,” J said with a smile still in her voice.

“Wanna go for round three?” He started to lift his head so he could look down at her again, when a familiar sound went off on the other side of the bed.

J gave him a shove to get him to move off of her. “I need to answer that.”

He started to ask who would be calling her at this time of the night, when the answer came to him the same moment she answered the phone.

“Yeah. Hold on.” She picked up the set from where it normally stayed on the floor, and placed it on the sheets as she handed him the receiver. Kiel accepted it from her.

“Yes?”

“Lawrence Jaynes has been captured,” Sam said.

“When? Where?”

“His folks had a summer place over on Dover Lake. Neighbors had seen the bulletin on television, and called the local sheriff. Captain’s already sent over two officers to pick him up and bring him back here.”

“Why this time of night? Why not wait until morning?”

“Because he believed us when we told him that Jaynes was the last living target on the Shredder’s list. He’s probably hoping that, by having Jaynes here under his jurisdiction, he can protect the man long enough to go to trial.”

“But having Jaynes back in town will put him back within Conader’s reach,” Kiel argued. He heard his brother sigh, and knew why. “We gotta convince the captain—”

“Captain’s going to believe what he wants to believe.”

Kiel glance at J, who had a puzzled but patient expression on her beautiful face. “What if J tells him?”

There was a moment of silence. “It couldn’t hurt,” Sam finally admitted, then yawned loudly. “I’ll be on my way over as soon as I throw on a pair of pants. Sorry to be interrupting you two.”

“We’ll be waiting.” He hung up the phone and reluctantly lifted himself off of J’s sweet body.

“They found Jaynes?” She rolled out of bed and made her way to her closet as Kiel morphed himself into jeans and a shirt.

“He’s being brought back to town.”

“That’s not a wise decision,” J said, slipping one of those shapeless shifts over her head and pulling it down to where it stopped at her knees. With a flush of heat, Kiel realized she was getting ready to leave without any underwear. Which meant he would be uncomfortably aware of her nipples when they poked out the fabric. He’d be watching for them. Or maybe keeping a close eye on the sleek curve of her butt cheeks when she walked. And if he could see them, then that meant others could, too.

“That’s what I said,” he said. Then added, “No panties?”

“I thought we were in a hurry?”

“Sam’s on his way. We have time. Put on some panties. Now. Please.”

J grabbed a pair of white cotton panties from her chest of drawers and pulled them on. She heard Kiel when he made a disparaging sound, and whirled around to face him.

“Now what?”

“Why do you wear those granny panties?”

“What are granny panties? Good grief, Kiel. One moment you cut down the way I dress, but in your next breath, you tell me to keep wearing them. Now my underwear isn’t good enough?”

He could hear her exasperation, and knew she was growing irritated. Not so much because of him, but because she was tired. And because this case was sorely testing her sanity. If he kept pushing, it might lead to tears, and he didn’t want that.

Kiel took her hand and kissed the back of it. “I’m sorry, J. I may be dead, but I’m still all male. I want to see you in clothes that turn me on. But at the same time, I don’t want other men to see how beautiful you are.”

It was an explanation she could live with. “You only think I’m beautiful because you love me.”

“Hey, you think I’m beautiful, and you’re blind.”

This time, she couldn’t help but laugh, and she was still giggling when they descended the stairs and exited the house where they would wait on the front porch for Sam’s arrival.

“Where are we going?”

“Back to the station house.”

“Where they’re bringing in Mr. Jaynes?”

“That. Actually, I was hoping you could talk some sense into the captain. Make him change his mind.”

“You mean, convince him to put Jaynes in a cell in some other town where the Shredder can’t reach him?”

“Exactly. Think you can do that?”

She faced the street. “All I can do is tell him what I know. I have no ability to mentally manipulate him. I’ll try, Kiel, but I can’t promise I’ll be successful. I mean, if it gets down to the nitty gritty, and I have to explain about the Shredder being dead, how do you think he’s going to take that?”

“Just do what you can.” He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. J leaned back against him, and he closed his eyes to savor the embrace. Giving her a small squeeze, he kissed her hair. The feel of her in his arms was only surpassed by the feel of her around him when he was making love to her.

“Kiel?”

“Yeah?”

“What if you never find your body? Will that mean you’ll continue to exist like you are now for eternity?”

He adjusted his hold on her, and she snuggled closer. “I don’t think it works that way, J. I think, now, mind you, this is all theory and hunch on my part, but I think I only have a limited amount of time to find it.”

“What happens if you don’t?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I fade into some kind of limbo.”

“But if you do, if you do manage to find your body, you’ll fade into limbo, too, won’t you?” Slowly, J turned around and pressed her cheek against his chest. “Either way, I’m going to lose you, won’t I?”

“J.”

“I love you, Kiel. I’ll never forget you.” She was fighting the tears as she pushed her forehead into his jacket’s lapel. “I want you to know that. I want you to take that with you.”

Maybe it was a good thing he couldn’t cry. Her confession was tearing him apart. “I know, J. I know. Listen. Believe me when I say this. You are the only reason I’m able to see this to the end. You’ve given me something to hold on to, and I don’t just mean figuratively.” He grinned and gave her a quick hug. J laughed softly. “I was going crazy. There were days I wanted to give up. And Sam, poor Sam, every morning he wakes up wondering if I’m still around. I can’t imagine how he’s able to cope.” Taking a deep breath, he broached the subject that had been unspoken between them for too long. “J, I asked Sam to watch over you once I was gone. I hope you don’t mind me doing that.”

She answered with a shake of her head. She couldn’t speak.

He felt something warm and wet soak through his shirt, to cool on his skin.

Headlights turned the corner. Kiel straightened up. “Sam’s here.”

They headed for the station house. No one spoke during the trip. Kiel chanced a glance at J, who was sitting next to him in the backseat, but her face was pensive. He had yet to tell the difference between when she was deep in thought, and when she was distracted by her visions. And chances are, I won’t be around long enough to find out.

“Delta Echo Six Five, report.”

Sam picked up the mic. “Six Five, copy.”

“Delta Echo Six Five, request you move to channel eight.”

Kiel immediately caught Sam’s surprised look back at him via the rearview mirror. Eight was the interdepartmental channel reserved for when the police worked in cooperation with the fire department and any other law enforcement agency called in to help with a current or specific case. In this instance, Sam and Kiel had no doubt what case they were all involved with.

“Copy. Moving to eight.” Sam reached over to change channels. “Delta Echo Six Five, what’s up?”

“Reese, what’s your location?” It was Matt Crewe, one of the two men sent over to Dover Lake to pick up Larry Jaynes.

“We’re heading for the station. Our ETA is about seventeen minutes. Did you get Jaynes?”

“Negative,” the detective said in a definitely pissed-off tone of voice. “The perp escaped custody.”

“How?” The word was spoken simultaneously by Sam and Kiel.

“We had him, but he somehow managed to elude us when we got back to the station. We’re having a pow-wow right now in Captain Redd’s office. Hurry up and get here as soon as you can.”

“Will do. Six Five out.”

Seconds ticked by in silence. Kiel looked again at his older brother in the rearview mirror.

“Do you think the guy knew he was a dead man if he came back here, and that’s why he hauled ass the first chance he got?”

“If he did, Jaynes is heading away from town as fast as he can. Chances are he may be making a beeline for the city limits.” Sam keyed the mic. “Delta Echo Six Five to base.”

“Base. Go ahead, Six Five.”

“Jaynes isn’t running,” J interrupted.

Her voice had that empty, echoing sound Kiel already recognized.

Sam paused from answering the two-way. “He’s not?”

“The Shredder has him.”

Before the words left her mouth, Kiel and Sam already knew the answer to the riddle. Sam jerked the wheel, pulling the vehicle into the parking lot of a dry cleaner, and almost did a one-eighty before heading back the way they’d come.

“Go ahead, Six Five. We copy.”

Kiel scrambled for the mic thrown on the passenger seat. “Possible thirty at Fairview and Mallista. La Vista Grande apartments. En route Code Two. Need immediate backup, including EMS and coroner!”

“Copy, Six Five.”

“Tell Captain Redd suspect Jaynes may be on the premises.”

“Copy, Six Five. Confirming fire and ambulance are en route.”

Dropping the mic, Kiel glanced over to see Sam concentrating on the road. Thank God it was the wee hours of the morning. Traffic was light or nonexistent.

A tiny sound made him drop back onto the seat and turn to find J pale and shaking. He grabbed her hands, which was like holding ice.

“J, what’s wrong? What’s happening?”

She made a gurgling sound in her throat. Her eyes were glassy, her vision drawn inward. Beads of sweat were popping out on her face. Whatever she was “seeing” wasn’t good. Worse, she was too deep inside herself to answer him, if she heard him at all.

“Sam, I think J’s going into shock.”

“What?”

“Hurry!”

* * * *

Blood. Hatred. Screams. Blood. Pain.

The rod lifted, covered in redness and pieces of flesh.

It descended. More blood. Splatters arched overhead and landed on the wall. A stream of it steamed in the cool early morning air as it meandered across the concrete floor toward the drain. The rod lifted again.

The screams were deafening.

No! No! Stop!

The world smelled of death. The aura around it was as brittle as glass and tinted dark gray.

The rod fell again. Again. Again. The screaming lessened until it was no more than weeping and raspy breathing.

“…to me, J!”

It’s was Kiel’s voice.

She struggled to answer him. “Dying.”

“Dying? You mean Jaynes? Is Conader killing him? Now? Right this moment? Is that what you’re seeing?” He gave her hands a tug, but she was frozen in place as if she had been tied at the scene to witness the man’s execution.

The car came to an abrupt stop. The door beside her opened, and someone grabbed one of her arms. Sam.

Kiel had her other arm. They were holding her up, facing her toward the apartment building.

“Where is he, J? Tell us.”

“You stay here. I’m going in to—”

“Fuck that, Sam! The man could be dead, and I don’t want you facing the Shredder alone! Come on, J. Speak to us.” Her shoulder was given a little shake.

Jaynes was dying. He was lying on the concrete, unmoving, no longer in agony as his nerve endings sizzled and burned out. But there was still a spark of life left in him, and Conader knew that. The immense black shape remained standing over the remains of what had been a man, waiting, waiting.

“J!”

“Kiel, you could go up there and run through the rooms faster than I could. Start with the fourth floor. If that doesn’t pan out, go to three.”

“No.”

It was more breath than sound, but somehow she had been able to utter it where they could hear. Both men leaned closer in.

“No, what?”

“He’s…not…”

“Not, what? Being killed? Dead? Here? What, J?”

They were too impatient, too worried, and as terrified as she was. Jaynes they could handle with little trouble. It was the Shredder who froze the blood in their veins.

She managed to back away slightly from the images in her brain. “He’s not in the apartment building.”

“What?”

“Then where is he? Quick, J. Where’s Jaynes? If he’s not here, where is he?”

They started to shove her back into the car, but this time she was able to pull away from them. “Here. He’s here, but not in that building.”

“Then where is he?” Sam asked. “Where would he be, if he’s here, but not inside?”

Kiel cupped the side of her face. He drew closer, almost nose-to-nose, until all she could see was the halo of light. “What do you see, J? What’s surrounding Jaynes? Describe it to us.”

Describe it? Yes. If she couldn’t easily identify the where, she could at least identify the what: surroundings, furniture, walls, tile or carpeting.

Carpeting. “No, no carpeting.”

Both men hushed.

“No carpeting,” J repeated hesitantly as the area slowly came into focus. “Cement. A cement floor. Walls. No paint. Aluminum? Lots of metal. Metal supports.”

“Cement floor and metal supports?” Sam repeated. “Sounds like a warehouse.”

“There’s no warehouse around here!” Kiel said.

“Car.” She could see it now. Her fingers moved, remembering the shape of the toy cars Douggie used to shove into her hands when he tried to teach her about things.

“Oh, shit. A garage?” Kiel whispered.

“An underground garage! Now it makes sense!” Sam almost crowed. “Now I know what I couldn’t put my finger on! There’s only a few parking spaces back here and in front. Too few for the number of apartments. There’s gotta be an underground garage!”

“Then how come we haven’t found it before now?”

“Look around us, Kiel. What do you see? Rubble, right? My guess is the drive-in entrance is covered up with crap.”

“Then how are we going to find it and get inside?”

The answer came to them simultaneously, and they answered in chorus. “The stairs!”

Her body felt like smoke, detached from reality. Both men hustled her into the apartment building, then through the door to the stairwell. Their footsteps rang like out-of-tune chimes as they hurried down the metal stairs, and stopped inside a room that felt damp and closed in.

“Fuck! Just as I thought. It’s the basement!” Kiel said.

Sam moved ahead and disappeared from sight. A second later he called out, “Found it! There’s a door leading to parking level A!”

The door was partially stuck. J heard the men shoving against the bar. On their second try they were able to push it open.

At first she felt lost in the vast cavern of space. Their footsteps sounded hollow, bouncing off of what appeared to be a high ceiling and through lots of emptiness. She heard a click to her left.

Then Sam commented, “Some serious dark in here. They must’ve bulldozed the entrances to make sure nobody got in down here.”

A wind blew over her, light but foul-smelling, as though something passed by. J honed in on the path it had taken, and pointed in the opposite direction. “There.”

They ran around several concrete support columns until they reached the far end of the garage. Kiel held her back, and J heard Sam grunt as his flashlight wavered over the remains of Lawrence Jaynes.

“Sweet Jesus.”

She blinked and focused toward the floor, but there was nothing. Whatever essence had been inside the victim was gone. She could see nothing but a void. Kiel moved up beside her like a shining firmament.

“Can we make a positive I.D.?” Kiel asked.

“It’s hard to tell.” Sam must have crouched down. She heard his knees pop.

“It’s him,” J assured them. “That’s Lawrence Jaynes.”

“At least his fingers are still intact where we’ll be able to pull prints.”

A hand reached out to brush some stray hairs out of her face.

“It’s times like this I’m glad you’re blind,” Kiel said.

His voice was strangled. Forced. She wondered if ghosts could gag. J managed a small smile.

“He has no life force left. The only way I would know a body is here is if I stumbled over it.”

“You can’t smell it?”

“This whole garage reeks, Kiel. Right now he blends in.”

“What about the Shredder?” Sam asked. He was to her right and slightly behind her. J turned to view his deep purple aura.

“I don’t feel anything. Nothing,” she admitted, which was the truth. The acidic darkness that had been here was gone. Any residue left behind was masked by mildew and ancient fumes of gasoline. The Shredder had done his business. All of his men were now accounted for. There was no reason for him to remain on this earthly plane any longer.

Sam stood and walked away from them. “There looks to be more blood over here,” he commented. “Hmm. Odd.”

“Think this place could have been where Conader committed any of the other murders?” Kiel questioned.

Suddenly, he was next to his brother, and J had not heard any footsteps move in that direction.

“What’s odd?” she called out.

“Look here, Kiel. What do you see?”

“Here? The floor’s a different color.”

“Yeah. Near where these stains are.” There was the sound of someone rubbing the sole of a shoe on the floor. “It’s rougher, too.”

“What’s rougher? The floor? Why is that unusual?” J tried again.

“Part of the floor is a different color, and it’s not as smooth,” Kiel told her. “You’re right, Sam. Look. It’s rectangular in shape. It’s been patched, and recently, too.”

“What does that mean?” J asked.

Again, Kiel answered. “It means that someone has come in not too long ago and poured fresh concrete in this area, and didn’t take the time or effort to match the rest of the surrounding flooring.”

“Why would someone do that?” she wondered.

“Could be for a number of reasons,” Sam replied. He moved around, examining the area.

J strained to hear Kiel but couldn’t. “Kiel?”

“He’s gone upstairs.”

She held out a hand. “Take me away from the body, please.”

“Oh. Sorry.” He walked over to guide her elsewhere, when she hesitated. Sam paused. “What?”

“Is there a window somewhere?”

“No. Why? Are you sensing something?”

She sorted softly. “I thought I felt something wet, like rain coming in.”

“Hmm. There’s pipes overhead. Maybe what you’re feeling is some water dripping on you. Here. I’m taking you over to the stairs. It’ll keep you out of the direct line of traffic when the rest of the crew arrive.”

He led her over to the door leading to the stairwell and backed her up until she could feel the cool, hard wall. At the same time, she caught the sound of many feet stomping down the stairs.

“I put you between the stairs and the elevator. You should be okay here. If you need me, yell.” He squeezed her arm as she nodded, then went back to the other end.

Within minutes there were at least a half-dozen more people in the garage. Their glows bounced around like jeweled balls, yet they all paled next to the beacon that was Kiel. J listened closely as they took pictures of the scene and brought in floodlights. The portable generators sent vibrations through the walls and floor, which added to the organized chaos.

At one point Kiel came over to keep her posted. “They’re bringing in a jackhammer to break up that concrete patch. It’s going to get pretty noisy in here. Want me to take you upstairs?”

She shook her head. “No. Please let me stay. Kiel?”

“What?”

“What happens now?”

“Well…” He started to answer her but the jackhammer drowned out his words. They waited for it to cease.

To steady herself, J clutched his arm, and the feel of his strong muscles reminded her of how tenderly they had been holding her an hour ago.

The jackhammer chewed through the cement easily. J overheard someone comment that the patch had been inferior. The concrete crumbled like a dry cookie. Earlier she had smelled the bright bitterness of fresh plastic when Jaynes’s remains passed by in the body bag. A crime scene unit investigator followed soon after, muttering under his breath about old bloodstains.

She tugged on Kiel’s sleeve. “What’s going on?”

“The coroner took the body to the morgue where they’ll do an autopsy on it. Looks like they’re finished blasting through the cement patch. Sam’s over there now helping them sift through it.”

“I thought I heard something about old bloodstains.”

“Yeah. That back wall where the patch is has several old spray patterns on it. We’re guessing this place has been the site of other murders.”

“By the Shredder?”

“Yes. Most likely.”

He moved, and suddenly J felt a shudder run through him. She remembered whenever she used to do that, her grandmama would tell her that someone had just walked over her grave. The memory brought a smile to her face, and J started to tell him about it when the truth slammed into her. She gasped. Air refused to enter her lungs as the cold truth washed over her.

“J?”

“Hey, Kiel! You need to come look at this!” Sam yelled from other side of the garage.

Kiel gently tried to brush away her hand to leave, but she tightened her grip.

“Kiel, no!”

“It’s okay, J. I’ll be right over there. I’ll keep an eye on you.”

“Kiel, no! Stop and think! Old blood. What if…what if it’s—”

It rose up in front of them like an boiling black cloud, without warning and without mercy. Anger and fury burned in the air as a roar as deafening as a tornado’s howl reverberated over and over inside the enclosed structure.

J screamed as the Shredder descended upon the small cluster of people still inside the garage. She had not expected the creature to return. Nothing had preceded its entrance. She had gotten no sense of it, but something had called it back. Something they had done had forced Conader to make himself known. And he was returning, intent on maiming, destroying, killing.

Shredding.

There was more screaming as people scattered. Gunshots exploded. The generators shut down.

J was shoved to the floor, and she knew Kiel had left her. Maybe he thought he could draw the creature away from her. Maybe he thought he could face Conader one-on-one, and keep the spirit away from the others. She yelled his name as something oily rubbed past her and left its smear of decay on her skin and clothes.

Something clogged her ears. It ran down past her lobes and cheeks like a rancid, viscous fluid. Filled with the essence of all the men he had killed, the Shredder was able to affect everything around them—smell, taste, sight, and now sound.

Faintly, J heard Sam cry out to Kiel. Pleading for help. Demanding.

Screaming.

Hearing Sam’s shriek of pain, J yelled out his name and started crawling on hands and knees toward him. In the distance she could see his aura, the color of spring violets—

“Feel how soft, how delicate. These are violets, J. They’re purple. It’s a very beautiful color. As beautiful as the flower. If you see an aura that looks delicate, soft, and beautiful, call it purple.”

—was fading. It wasn’t pulsing as strongly or as brightly as it normally did.

She chanced a glance around, searching for Kiel, but the black death that was Conader was obliterating auras. Her body went completely numb as she watched a pale green brightness that was a living human being flare briefly, sparkle, and then was gone. A bubbly sigh followed its extinguishing.

“Kiel, help me!”

“Sam!”

Sam’s voice was weaker, gasping. His purple aura was lavender and fading. J kept crawling toward him, praying she could reach him and somehow drag him away to a spot where the Shredder would either overlook or ignore him. Deep down she didn’t think there was such a place. She held out no hope that anyone would survive this attack.

Behind her she heard the soft, syrupy crunch of flesh and bone. Someone was begging to be spared. It was hard to tell if it was a man or a woman. It didn’t matter. Nothing they said or did would help them now.

The lavender aura was so pale, it was almost white. It was barely the size of a halo. And when she finally found him, he was shivering.

She pulled him into her lap. His blood covered her hands. In fact, everywhere she touched him was bloody. Sam groaned in pain but he didn’t try to stop her.

J leaned over, placing her face closer to his. “Sam? Sam, please talk to me.”

“J, go.”

She had stopped being afraid long ago. The Shredder hadn’t attacked her. Yet. But she assumed it was only a matter of time before he either sought her out, or discovered his oversight. If she was going to die here, she wanted to be with the two men with whom she had grown close these past few days.

She softly shushed him when he struggled to push her away. Sam was dying. They both knew it. Still, he felt the need to protect her, even if it meant trying to convince her to flee. When in truth he didn’t really want her to go. He didn’t want to die alone, and she knew that. And she knew he was aware she had figured it out, too. Inexorably, the aura surrounding him dimmed further.

“J.”

“I’m here, Sam. I’m h-here.”

Her tears were falling, dripping onto him, but he probably didn’t feel them. One weak hand found hers that was gripping his shoulder, clasped it, and gave it a weak squeeze. She laced her fingers through his to help him hold on.

“K-Kiel.”

J sniffed and found the courage to look around. There was no other aura, no other sign of life. Somehow, she knew the Shredder was still in the garage. So was Kiel. The where was impossible to detect.

“He’s okay, Sam,” she said. “He’s facing down the Shredder. He’s keeping him away from us.”

She had no idea if what she was telling him was the truth, but she knew she had to give Sam some sort of comfort, no matter how slight. She couldn’t bear to think of him dying without hope.

Sam’s body shook violently. The aura faded to almost nothing. His breathing and his heartbeat slowed. J pressed his face to her bosom. He was past being able to talk but he hadn’t given up. She could sense him struggling to live.

“J!”

Suddenly Kiel was there with her. He bent over his brother and placed a hand on the man’s chest.

J glanced around the garage.

“He’s gone,” Kiel whispered. “This time for good, I think.”

“Why did he come back?”

“I don’t know. But I managed to distract him long enough for a couple of techs to escape. Reinforcements should be on their way.” His brightness hovered almost directly above the center of his brother’s body. “Sam.”

“He’s dying,” J whispered, then hiccupped.

Kiel patted her and Sam’s hands where they were clasped. “I know.” His voice sounded final.

“What happened, Kiel? What do you think happened?”

“I honestly don’t know. Sam called me over to look at where they’d been busting up the concrete, and just as I got there, Conader showed up and rammed a piece of rebar through the guy with the jackhammer. All I could think about was keeping him away from you because I thought Sam…” He choked, swallowed hard, and continued. “I thought Sam could take care of himself. Oh, God. Hold on, Sam. Help’s coming. Hold on, damn you!”

She continued to rock Sam, who continued to fight for his life. His breathing was labored, yet he seemed to have momentarily stopped his downward spiral. It was as though he was able to draw some small amount of strength from her. Just enough to allow him to keep a tenuous grip on existing. That, and maybe he was just too damn stubborn to die.

“What did he find?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t get the chance to find out.” Sam glanced over his shoulder, at the spot where the cement lay in chunks. He arose and went over to the site. J heard him tossing pieces of concrete across the floor.

He suddenly cried out. She saw his aura spark, flutter, then sputter like a car running out of gasoline.

“J!”

“Kiel?”

“Oh, God! J! J, I…”

His voice was filled with terror. His aura dimmed. J could feel his fear running through her, and she reached out to him.

“Kiel? What’s wrong? Kiel?”

J whipped her head around and frantically searched the area around her, looking for any sign that the Shredder had returned, but the blackness remained black. The iciness freezing her was not coming from an intruder.

“Kiel!”

A breath later he was back, crouching in front of her. He touched her cheeks with both hands as she watched his aura fading like a setting sun. Fading quickly. An almost nonexistent kiss touched her lips.

“Kiel?”

“I love you, J,” he whispered hurriedly. “I’ll always love you. Please, don’t forge—”

Before he could finish, he was gone, leaving her with nothing but silence. The hands were gone. The blazing aura was gone. Completely gone.

All sense of him had vanished, his aura extinguished.

Stunned, J reached out as far as she could, waving it from side to side, hoping she was wrong. Hoping she could touch him again, or snag his jacket or sleeve. Anything.

“Kiel! Kiel, answer me, dammit! Kiel!”

She screamed his name over and over as she willed him to answer.

She didn’t stop screaming until the police burst through the door leading from the stairwell, to face the carnage and its one lone blind survivor.

Chapter 6

Aftermath

“Captain Redd?”

She spotted him when he entered the waiting room. He came straight over to where she was standing at the window. She liked looking out windows. Although she couldn’t see anything, she would play games with herself as she tried to spot the tiny, sometimes pinpoint spots of light floating here and there. The auras of people going about their business. It was something to keep her occupied while she waited for the time when visitors were allowed into the intensive care area.

“Miss Laurent, how are you doing?”

He spoke with genuine concern as he laid a hand on her arm. It was warm and calloused, and the contact felt good.

She nodded. “I’m fine, thanks. But I’m needing some answers, and there’s no one else I trust. Please?”

“Sure. Want to sit down?”

“No. I’m too wound up to sit.”

Miss Cassie had been by a while ago. Or was it hours ago? Damn her inability to distinguish time.

The woman had brought her some clean clothes, then clucked over her like a mother hen while J washed up and changed in the woman’s restroom. After getting her something to eat from the hospital cafeteria, Miss Cassie had taken the bloodied clothes back to the house, leaving J to wait it out to see Sam when the doctors and nurses finally determined the man could have visitors.

“What was it you wanted to ask me?”

She placed a hand over his to help steady her. In many ways, she was still in shock, still in denial. It would only be a matter of time—Minutes? Hours?—before her psyche and her body would step into that bitter pool of grief. She almost felt as if she was about to go tumbling into a deep, bottomless chasm.

She swallowed hard. “What was in the concrete that they busted up?”

She sensed his hesitation. Finally, after some deliberation, the captain answered. “Has anyone debriefed you?”

“No.”

From the time the second wave of police entered the garage to discover the aftermath of the slaughter till now, she had little memory and fewer details she could relate. And when it came down to the truth about Kiel’s disappearance, there was little chance she could tell them the truth. They wouldn’t believe her if she did. Maybe she should let them try to figure it out on their own.

“Let me get someone down here from the station house to take your statement.”

“Captain Redd.” She squeezed his hand as hard as she could. “Please. Tell me. What was underneath the concrete?”

He was breathing heavily. She could hear how fast his heart was beating. She was surprised when his other hand settled on top of hers.

“It was a body.”

J jerked at the revelation. She had known. She had already guessed it, but she had wanted him to confirm it. Still, the answer shocked her.

“Kiel’s?”

“We can’t say for certain until the lab reports—”

“Dammit, Captain! It was Kiel’s, and you know it! Why won’t you be upfront and tell me the truth?”

The tears were falling again. She thought she had cried all she could cry. She was wrong.

It had to have been Kiel’s body under that fresh slab. Why else would he have reacted the way he did? Why else would he have said what he’d said, or tried to say, before he blinked out of existence?

“I love you, J. I’ll always love you. Please, don’t forge—”

He was begging her not to forget him. J would swear her life on it.

“Yeah. I’m afraid you’re right. It was Kiel Stark’s body. He still had his shield in his pants pocket. But the lab will have to confirm it before we can make any sort of announcement. Miss Laurent, off the record, here, who killed all those people? Do you have any idea?”

If she lowered her head, she couldn’t see the man’s almost sky blue aura. And if she couldn’t see his aura, he couldn’t see her face.

“Some man. Kiel and Sam said his name was Conader.”

“Cracker Jack Conader?”

“I think so.”

“But the man’s dead! My God, he was the victim of a gangland killing, we thought.”

“He was killed, Captain.” She lifted her face. “It was his spirit that came back to get its revenge on those who had set him up and had him murdered.”

There. She had told him the truth. And if he chose to put her under a lie detector, it would continue to be the truth. Let the man think what he wanted about her, but at some point he would have to face the awful fact that there was more in this world than could be detected with five puny senses.

The man remained silent. Thinking, weighing his options, testing his gut response. His next comment surprised her.

“And Kiel? Was he dead, too?”

She must have given him a puzzled expression because he clarified himself.

“The coroner said the body had been somewhat preserved in the concrete, but he guessed the man had to have been dead at least three to four weeks. At first, I didn’t believe him. I mean, I spoke to Kiel today. I saw him yesterday. The man was alive, wasn’t he?”

Slowly, J shook her head. “No, Captain. He was dead. He’s been dead for the past month.”

“Then explain to me how…I mean…sweet Jesus, he was dead?”

This time the hands were removed from hers, and she sensed him backing away. There was a loud sigh.

“Then he must’ve been killed that night he was carried away during that sting operation. What about Sam? Did Sam suspect his brother was dead?”

J glanced around the room to see if anyone was listening in on their conversation. The room was empty save for her and the captain.

“He already knew. He tried to deny it at first. Then after a while he accepted it…sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“I’m guessing he was prepared for the day when Kiel wouldn’t show up. When he would really be dead dead. We didn’t get the chance to talk about it much.”

“Why was he able to come back from the dead in the first place?” the captain asked. “Did it have anything to do with Conader?”

This time she felt good knowing there was one puzzle piece she could fit in place for him. “Yes. Conader killed Kiel by accident. The Shredder was really after the two men who had been instrumental in his death. The ones who had kidnapped Kiel. That’s who Conader went after, those two men and all the people who had worked for him who’d gotten greedy and wanted it all for themselves. They found a way to get Conader’s formula for the drug he was manufacturing. Once they had that, they didn’t need Conader anymore, so they killed him. They never believed the man would come back to get his revenge.”

J sniffed and wiped the wetness from her cheeks. She needed a tissue badly, but had no idea where to find any. A moment later a box was shoved into her hands. She thanked him and blew her nose before continuing.

“But if Conader killed Kiel…”

“Kiel said the guy told him he’d killed him by mistake. Funny, isn’t it? A dead man apologizing to another dead man. Kiel told me the man had told him that killing him had been a mistake, so he was going to fix it. The next thing he knew, Kiel said he woke up, alive but dead. After that, Kiel knew his purpose was to find out where his body was. He was sure that once he found it, his existence on this earth, whatever kind of existence it was, would be over, and he could finally rest in peace.”

It felt like a cleansing of her soul, talking about her time with Kiel while letting the captain know the whole story. She could almost hear Kiel’s voice now, whispering to her, telling her everything as they lay together in her double bed, bodies pressed tightly to each other. His soul had needed cleansing, too.

Whether or not the captain believed her no longer mattered.

The room was quiet, even though she knew the man was standing a few feet away. She started to add the fact that Kiel had saved her life by facing down Conader, when someone stepped through the doorway.

“Miss Laurent? Visitation is open now, but the doctors have restricted Mr. Reese’s visitors.”

“I can’t see him?”

“Fifteen minutes only.”

Captain Redd stepped forward and took J’s elbow. “Miss Laurent is blind. I’m Sam’s precinct captain. May I escort Miss Laurent inside?”

“Are you family?”

“We’re all the family Sam has left,” J bluntly responded.

The woman—Nurse? Hospital staff?—paused. “The patient is restricted to one visitor at a time, but in this instance I’ll allow you to lead her in. But you’ll have to wait outside for your turn.”

“I’m okay with that,” the captain said.

“Follow me, please.”

They went down a long hallway and though two sets of double doors. J didn’t attempt to keep track of where they were going or how many steps she took from one landmark to another. Her body remained in a state of numbness. She hadn’t grieved, or had the chance to come to terms with the loss of Kiel. Worse, she had yet to face Sam’s death.

If she could run down the middle of a street while screaming at the top of her lungs, she would.

Captain Redd led her into the small room where Sam’s body was hooked up with wires and tubes, and machines that squeaked, and gasped, and rattled irritatingly. He placed her left hand on the railing, gave it a pat, and told her he’d be right outside. Then he left her alone.

Sam was being kept alive by artificial means. She didn’t need to see all the paraphernalia to know how damaged he was, or how close he was to death. She could see it for herself. Sam was holding on by the thinnest thread no stronger than a spider’s web. His aura barely circled his head. It no longer encompassed his body. Whatever had been Sam Reese was gone, yet the spirit continued to fight until the very end. Until it could no longer remain with the broken, mangled shell now being sustained with chemicals and a pump.

J reached over and found a hand. Grasping it, she leaned over the bed to kiss it. It was cold and unresponsive.

“Sam, I’m here. You’re not alone.”

She had no idea if he could hear her or if he was aware of her being there. Maybe he could. Either way, she needed to be with him. She needed to stay with him for as long as she was allowed. It was the only way she could live with herself and her conscience afterwards.

“Sam, you know I love Kiel. I’ll always love Kiel. I knew we wouldn’t have much time together, but I’m glad for the time we did have. I’m glad I got to know you, too. You were like a brother to me.”

She tried to focus on him and prayed she could get some sort of response. A spark. Anything that would let her know he was dying in peace.

She sensed nothing.

A pale, hazy, nearly nebulous ring of watery light settled over his forehead. J stared at it as it wavered. Then, like a whisper in the wind, it was gone. At that same instant, the machines around her went off, blaring their alarms.

Pounding feet entered the room at a run. She was pulled away from the bed as nurses and doctors tried to resuscitate Sam.

Pain unlike anything she had ever felt before in her life ripped through her. Gasping for breath, J hit the opposite wall with her back and slowly slid to the floor as scalding tears rolled down her face. She called out Sam’s name, but the others in the room couldn’t hear her over the noise of the alarms and the shouting back and forth.

Someone yelled to get clear. There was a buzz and clashing noise, a second of silence, and another order to try again. J held her hands over her face and sobbed.

At least she had been there for him. He hadn’t died alone. Kiel would be proud of her, knowing she had done at least that much for his brother. More importantly, she could live with herself.

It suddenly got very quiet. Someone went around to shut off the machines and their racket. A voice said, “Time of death, eight fifty-eight p.m.”

Slowly, one by one, people left the room. Something on wheels and carrying equipment was rolled out the door.

Someone came over and touched her on the shoulder.

“Miss? You’ll need to leave—”

“No! No! Please.” The tears came faster, nearly drowning her. She fought the heat and pressure squeezing the life from her. Finally, J managed to take a deep, shuddering breath. “Please. Let me say goodbye. Give me a moment, please. I promised…I promised his brother I would stay with him until…” She dragged her sleeve over her eyes. “Please, he was all I had left in this world.”

The woman paused to make her decision. “Listen. I need to leave the room for a bit. But when I come back, you’ll have to leave. Okay?”

J nodded and allowed the woman to help her to her feet and lead her back to the bed. Once her hands touched the mattress, the woman gave her hands a little pat and left the room. The world became utterly quiet.

Slowly, carefully, J searched the sheet and the still form beneath it, following the cloth until she reached the head. The wires were still attached to him. The tubes and everything had not been removed. She guessed they would get around to doing that when they came back.

Pulling back the sheet, she lowered it enough to where she could touch his face. It was still warm, and for a split second hope flared. Then her senses reminded her the heart no longer beat. Sam Reese was gone.

She leaned over and lightly kissed his cheek. “Goodbye, Sam. I’ll never forget you, and I’ll never forget Kiel. I promise, and I always keep my promises.”

Pressing her forehead into his shoulder, J silently prayed as exhaustion settled over her. She ached mentally, emotionally, and physically. More than that, she ached in a way she knew she would never ache again.

Everything in her world was gone now. Every time she had loved, it had been taken away from her. It was as though she didn’t deserve any kind of happiness. That she wasn’t worthy of love. Didn’t God already prove that fact to her when He took away her sight before she ever had the chance to experience His beauty in the world?

The tears were back. She felt sick, like she wanted to throw up.

It wasn’t fair! Why should other people be allowed to love and be loved in return, but not her? It isn’t fair!

“What have I done to be punished like this?” she murmured, clutching the sheet. “Why did you have to take him away from me? Why? Kiel. Oh, Kiel.”

Pure, black rage boiled up inside her. She was divided into two selves. One of them bemoaned the fact that she didn’t deserve to be happy. That there had been something she’d done wrong that she didn’t know she had done, which had ultimately sentenced her to live the rest of her life alone. Unwanted and unloved.

The other half screamed she deserved love. To love and be loved in return. That she was innocent, or at the very least, deserving of a second chance. And that everyone was worthy of being cared for.

“I am worthy!” she cried out, beating a fist on the mattress. “I am worthy! I am! I’ve done the best I could, so why am I being punished? Why am I being punished?

“You brought Kiel into my life. Why? Why? How could You be so cruel as to let us have such a short and meager time together?

“Please, if you have any mercy, Lord.” She leaned back over the bed. All the energy had left her. There was nothing in her anymore. Not hate, or anger, or grief. Not even sadness. She was a mere shell with nothing to go home to, and nothing to look forward to.

“If there is any mercy in You, Lord.”

The sheet moved slightly.

J gasped and jerked back. A muscle spasm. She had heard about corpses still moving because of all sorts of scientific explanations. Yet…

The sheet moved again. J involuntarily looked toward Sam’s uncovered face.

She blinked. Rubbing her eyes with the backs of her hands, she looked again.

A faint glow surrounded Sam’s head. Faint and barely perceptible, but it was there.

J literally trembled as she stared at the impossible.

The glow wasn’t purple. It wasn’t Sam’s aura. It was white. Almost pure white, tinged with a little gold.

Like Kiel’s.

“He was wrong.”

J gave a little shriek at the sound coming from behind her. She whipped around to see the immense black figure standing a few feet away. Its shape seemed to swallow the room as it filled the small area.

There was nowhere to run. The darkness was between her and the door. J could only stare in growing horror at the thing that had killed everyone but her.

Everyone but her.

He’s come back to finish what he left behind.

“He was wrong,” the Shredder repeated. “He was not to be. I fixed him now.”

It held out a dark arm and pointed at the bed.

“I fixed him,” it repeated.

The blackness wavered in place a moment longer. J remained staring in stunned silence as the inkiness began to lighten, turning gray, then off-white, and then it was completely gone. Dissipated.

“I fixed him.”

She forced herself to turn around, hoping, praying she understood what Conader meant.

Yes. The brightness was there, and it was steadily growing brighter. Stronger. It was a white aura, tinged with a hint of yellow like chrysanthemums in the autumn. But there was also…

J blinked again. No, she wasn’t imagining it. There was some purple in there, too. Not much, not a lot, but unmistakable.

The sheet under her hand moved slightly, and she heard a soft sigh.

Tentatively, she reached out to touch his face. It was Sam’s face. It was Sam who was opening his eyes.

“J?”

It was Sam’s voice.

Fresh tears burned her face. “It’s okay, Sam. I’m here. L-let me go call the doctors and tell them you’re awake, okay?” There was no way she was going to leave him. Instead, she fumbled for the controls on the side of the bed, when his hand stopped her.

“Why are you calling me Sam?”

Her heart nearly stopped as the truth came to her, wide and sparkling like the first morning of the world.

“J?”

“K-Kiel?”

“Yeah, honey. I’m Kiel. Are you okay?”

It was all she could do to lean over him, wrap her arms about his neck, and hold on for dear life. Her senses confirmed what she believed. Only, it was too much to believe in. Too much to hope for. And yet, he was here, alive, breathing and speaking to her.

“Am I in a hospital?”

“Yes.”

“I fixed him.”

J trembled. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. What did I do?”

She giggled at his obvious confusion. The giggle brought more tears. “I’ll tell you later. Promise.”

“Oh, just like you’ll tell me one of these days what J stands for?” he softly teased.

His aura was so bright, she would swear it lit up the whole room.

Nuzzling his cheek, she giggled softly. “I already told you, silly. It means I love you.”

He thought for a moment, long enough to let her kiss his cheek. His warm cheek.

“French, huh?”

“Uh-huh.”

“So how do you say ‘I love you’ in French?”

“Je t’aime.”

“Je t’aime. The J is short for Je t’aime?”

“You got it,” she whispered. “Kiel?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not dead anymore.”

“I, uhh, sort of figured that out. Want to tell me how?”

“Not now. Later.” She gave him another hug, knowing the nurse would soon return. Only this time the woman would be in for the shock of her life to discover the patient was back among the living.

After that, J would have to be here for him when he found out his brother was dead, and that he had been given his own life back in the only way Conader could manage it. Forget the how, but she could guess at the why. Why Conader had buried Kiel’s body beneath the fresh cement patch. It was because he was ashamed of his mistake. Ashamed he had taken an innocent life. That’s why he’d hidden Kiel, and why he had returned once the hiding place had been discovered.

That was why the Shredder had been determined to fix his mistake.

“I fixed it.”

Of course, it was merely a guess. No one would ever find out the real reason, and J no longer had any desire to pursue it further.

Kiel was alive. He was here, back with her. And once they managed to grieve for Sam, to accept the impossibility of what had occurred, and put that part of their lives behind them, they would have the chance to share, to love, and to be happy.

They both had earned it. She had no doubt they both deserved it.

Today would be the start of a new beginning.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Linda loves to write romance with a fantasy or science fiction flair. Her technique is often described as being as visual as a motion picture or graphic novel. By day she is a kindergarten teacher, wife, and mother of two who lives in a small south Texas town near the Gulf Coast. But at night she delves into alternate worlds filled with daring exploits and sensuous, erotic romance.

Included in her accomplishments with Whiskey Creek Press Torrid are ten consecutive Number One Bestsellers, and in March 2010, Linda was named the Whiskey Creek Press Torrid Author of The Year.

For your reading pleasure, we invite you to visit our web bookstore

WHISKEY CREEK PRESS TORRID

www.whiskeycreekpresstorrid.com

Table of Contents

Other Books by Author Available at Whiskey Creek Press:

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6