Before he could say anything, Judith entered the room, assessing the situation in one glance.
“Kerry, my dear, I’ll take over now.” She stepped between Kerry and the two men, breaking the energy connection. Kerry collapsed in a nearby chair, looking a little green.
Ranulf finished pushing himself up from the floor, trying to make sense of what he’d just seen. Without thinking, he offered Sandor a hand up. The two of them stared first at Kerry and then at Judith. Slowly, Ranulf began adding up a few things that had bothered him about Judith’s behavior since she’d found out about Kerry’s existence. The answer he got did not make him happy.
He turned his temper on Judith. “She’s like you, isn’t she?”
Judith gave him a distracted nod as she stood next to Kerry, stroking her shoulder. He knew from personal experience that Judith was both soothing and energizing Kerry, helping the younger woman stabilize.
He took a step closer. “How long have you known?”
“I suspected from your first report and from the condition of the people she saved. It was obvious she’s a healer and a strong one. I had to think she and I might have other qualities in common.”
He had other questions, but rather than risk saying something that might hurt Kerry, he stalked over to the bathroom door and slammed it behind him.
A hot shower would clear out the cobwebs and wash Kerry’s scent off his skin. He cranked the dial all the way, figuring being boiled alive would be better than letting himself get tangled up with another Dame for the next millennium. He couldn’t face another year of killing for the good of their people, much less a thousand of them.
Sandor wasn’t the only one who worried about the long-term effects of absorbing the twisted, dark energy of bastards like Bradan. Ranulf had only been down off the mountain for a few days, and except for the time spent with Kerry, his skin hurt with the need to break free of the confines of civilization.
As the water pelted his body, he closed his eyes and leaned against the cool tile wall. Was Kerry all right? He shouldn’t have left her alone, even though Sandor and Judith would see that she was taken care of. But he couldn’t face her—not now that he understood why he felt this powerful attraction to her.
He was the strongest of the Talions and had special talents that most of the others lacked. The only Kyth who was stronger than he was in some ways was Dame Judith herself. It was one reason he’d willingly served her for so long.
And now Judith had finally found someone with the right gifts to serve their people as the new Dame when she herself stepped down. He now knew why she’d been so adamant about sending both Sandor and Ranulf to protect Kerry.
If Kerry assumed the throne of their people, she’d need a Consort. Who would be more perfect than Sandor, the diplomat among the Talion? And who would get to spend a hundred lifetimes watching the two of them whenever they dragged him down off the mountain to kill? No way in hell he was going to let that happen.
Even if he was willing to serve the new Dame, he sure as hell wasn’t going to dance to any tune Sandor played. Nor was he about to watch that smarmy son of a bitch following Kerry around, sharing her life and her bed. Especially now that he knew that their shared passion was as close to Valhalla as he’d likely ever know.
He shut the water off. The sooner he dressed and ate, the sooner he could hit the streets and track down Bradan. The hours spent in Kerry’s bed had been the best in his life, but he had a job to do. Reaching for a towel, he made his plans.
* * *
Sandor hated—HATED—being shooed out of Kerry’s room like a child, even though he knew Kerry had questions that only Judith could answer. But as long as Ranulf was lurking in the next room, he would stay close, too.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the Viking had used Kerry’s nightmare to worm his way into her bed. And judging by the tangled blankets and sheets, he’d done a helluva lot more than just wake her up from the dark dream that had ensnared her.
Damn it, they had been ordered to protect Kerry, not seduce her! Sandor stared at his image in the mirror and frowned. Was he jealous that Ranulf and Kerry had spent the night in each other’s arms? Maybe a little. He suspected making love to a woman with such strength and power would be like getting hit with a bolt of lightning.
Brutal honesty forced him to admit that she had never looked at him with the slightest hint of interest. Normally he would’ve taken her rejection with good humor; he didn’t expect every woman he met to fall at his feet.
But what did she see in Ranulf? Was it that big a thrill to take a barbarian to bed? Or was Kerry drawn to the darkness in Ranulf? The idea sent fear for their race coursing through his veins. Judith wasn’t the only one who had suspected that Kerry was most likely a healer after reading the reports about her reaction to the dance club fire.
But if Kerry’s affinity was for the dark end of the energy spectrum, what would that mean to the Kyth as a whole? Had they found her too late, when she’d already been tainted?
Clearly Ranulf couldn’t be trusted now. So if Dame Judith decided that Kerry was beyond redemption, he himself would likely get the execution order—a first for him. Although he’d brought other Kyth to face justice, he’d never been given an execution order to carry out. Judith had always said it had been because his talent as a diplomat had kept him busy enough. He’d always wondered if perhaps she’d doubted his ability to kill.
It would be hard enough to take out a fellow Talion, but to execute a woman, especially this woman? A part of his soul would die. He stared again at his reflection in the mirror. The Kyth culture sprang from a warrior culture where a man’s worth was tied to his ability to wield weapons in the defense of their people. Underneath the veneer of civilized behavior, they still held on to those values.
As much as Sandor despised the choices Ranulf had made in his life, the man deserved respect as a proven warrior.
A sharp rap on the door disturbed the silence in his room. Banishing his dark thoughts, he opened the door. The Viking filled the doorway.
“What do you want?”
“We’ve got work to do.”
Ranulf had showered and shaved, but the deep indigo blue of his eyes warned that his mood was still volatile. Diplomat that he was, Sandor knew how to talk his way around moody Kyths.
“There’s no ‘we.’ I’ve been doing my job. You’re the one who’s been screwing…around.”
Who knew indigo could go black so quickly? Ranulf’s hand snaked out to grab a fistful of Sandor’s shirt for the second time in as many days, yanking him up close.
“Never insult her, Sandor. Watch your mouth or I’ll close it permanently.” Ranulf’s words rang with cold death.
If they really went at it, there would be no rules, no quarter given. And right now, the only two people with the strength to stop them were too busy to do so. Sandor braced himself to do battle, but Ranulf abruptly released him and stayed in the hall, giving Sandor enough space to calm down.
“I know you want a piece of me, but now isn’t the time. Bradan’s out there stocking up on death energy. We need to take him out while we still can.”
The arrogant bastard was right. Even if they hated each other’s guts, it was imperative that they find some way to work together. Once Bradan was permanently out of the picture, there would be a reckoning.
The Viking nodded, as if he’d read Sandor’s thoughts. Hell, maybe he had. There was no telling what secret talents he had honed over the years.
“Where do you want to start?” Sandor asked calmly.
The crisis over, Ranulf’s eyes faded to a lighter blue. “With breakfast.”
Sandor acknowledged the peace offering with a quick nod. “Tell Josiah that I’ll be there in a minute. I need to change my shirt.”
Ranulf glanced at the button hanging by a thread. “Put it on my tab.” Then he was gone.
* * *
Drying his hands, Bradan studied his studio. An artist had to have a place to practice his craft, and this was his. The smell of bleach would fade as the cement floor dried, but otherwise the room met with his approval.
The boy had put up quite a fight. His efforts had been futile, of course, but quite remarkable for all that. His death had topped off Bradan’s tank, so to speak, leaving him buzzed and ready for more.
It was time to go after his real targets: Dame Judith, the Viking, Sandor, and the delicious Kerry Logan. The order didn’t matter, although he leaned toward keeping Kerry for the last. Maybe if she saw how the others died, she’d be more willing to cooperate. Fat lot of good it would do her. In the end, he would bed her, either breaking her or killing her in the process.
The stage was set. His instruments were all lined up neatly on the counter. The chains were reinforced, designed to stand up to the strongest of guests. He could see Ranulf straining against them, blood dripping from his wrists and ankles. The Dame probably thought Ranulf would prove to be Bradan’s most worthy opponent, but she would be wrong.
All Bradan had to do was take either Kerry or Judith prisoner, and stupid, noble Ranulf would offer himself up in exchange for the woman’s life. Not that he’d trust Bradan to honor the agreement, but neither would he stand by and let a woman die without trying every possible way to save her.
Bradan would keep him alive long enough to watch Judith breathe her last. The Viking had served her for God knew how long; it was only right that they die together.
He left the house, locking the door and setting the alarm. He’d chosen the wooded lot for its remote location. When a man had unusual tastes in entertainment, it didn’t do to live too close to neighbors.
He should reach Seattle by midafternoon. It was time to give Sandor another few hits to track down: a charge here, an ATM withdrawal there, all geared to keep the Talions spinning their wheels like hamsters in a cage, running like crazy and getting nowhere.
Climbing in his rental car, he started the engine and drove down to the highway, careful to observe the speed limit. A state trooper had a nasty habit of setting up a speed trap along the ramp that led back down to Interstate 90. Only a fool would risk years of planning for the fleeting pleasure of exceeding the speed limit.
Delayed gratification was always the sweetest.
* * *
“For the last time, NO!”
Kerry paced back and forth, wishing she’d been anywhere else except trapped in this room with an unnerving old lady watching her every move. “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to hear any more about my so-called heritage. I don’t want to explore these newfound secret superpowers, and I don’t want a lecture on accepting the burden of my gifts. What I do want to do is shower, grab breakfast at a fast-food drive-up window, and get back to my life. My real life.”
She turned to face Dame Judith, who had listened to Kerry’s tirade for the past half hour with the patience of a saint—and the stubbornness of a bulldog. Once the two men had retreated, Judith had done her best to reassure Kerry that it was perfectly normal to control two pissed-off males with the flick of a wrist. Oh, yeah, that made all the sense in the world.
It made just as much sense to Kerry as finding out that she and Dame Judith must have had a common ancestor—or maybe that Dame Judith was the ancestor. If she accepted the fact that Ranulf really was a thousand years old, could Dame Judith be any younger? It was a sign of how far gone Kerry was that she actually believed what they’d been telling her.
Praise be, the shower in the next room finally stopped running. How could she concentrate when her mind insisted on picturing Ranulf standing naked under that hot spray? His body was that of a warrior, and she’d reveled in being the sole focus of all that power and strength. Just thinking about it had her feeling restless and achy. A shadow of the sweet heat she’d experienced making love with him washed over her, leaving her staring at the bathroom door. If the Dame hadn’t taken up residence in her room, Kerry would have joined him.
The man definitely had a body built for hard driving sex, the likes of which she’d never known and might never know again. Ranulf found the solitude of his mountaintop home necessary to cope with what life had thrown at him, and if the scars he carried on the inside matched the ones on his back and chest, maybe he was right. But the thought of never seeing those startling blue eyes staring down into hers as he relentlessly drove them both toward climax made her unutterably sad.
The other woman brought her back to the moment. “You have strong feelings for Ranulf, don’t you?”
Kerry jumped when Dame Judith laid a hand on her shoulder. A small surge of warmth spread out from the old woman’s touch, a feeling Kerry was learning to associate with being in physical contact with another Kyth. Not that Judith’s touch made her feel anything like Ranulf’s or even Sandor’s did.
She avoided answering Judith’s question by asking one of her own. “Does each Kyth have his or her own”—she struggled for the right word—“taste? Or maybe feel is a better way to put it?”
Judith glanced at the bathroom door one last time before turning away. “Yes, they do. Why don’t you get dressed, while I do the same? After breakfast I’ll answer all your questions.”
“All right. Give me about twenty minutes to get showered, and I’ll meet you in the dining room.”
Judith patted her shoulder again. “Make it thirty minutes. I’m afraid I don’t move quite as quickly as I used to.”
“Thirty, then.” Kerry surprised them both by planting a quick kiss on Judith’s cheek. “That’s for coming to my rescue.”
“It was my pleasure, young lady. It’s been a while since I’ve had men fighting over me, but I haven’t forgotten what it was like. Flattering, of course, but hell on the furniture.”
Kerry looked around the room, only now noting the broken lamp on the floor. She bent down to pick up a piece of the shattered pottery. “Good grief, I can’t believe they did that. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s hardly your fault that two of the best men I know are smart enough to appreciate a beautiful woman—especially one with brains to match.”
Kerry gave Judith a wry smile. “Thank you for saying that, but we both know that I was just the excuse. I suspect those two have been at each other’s throats for far longer than they’ve known me.”
Judith sighed and shook her head. “Unfortunately, that’s true. Normally I try to keep them apart as much as possible.”
“Maybe pounding on each other will finally knock some sense into both of them.” But she doubted it.
“So do I, Kerry. So do I,” Judith agreed as she left.
Kerry stared at the closed door. Had she said that last part aloud? If not, that was one spooky woman. Kerry headed for the bathroom, convinced she’d ended up in the Twilight Zone.
* * *
“One of us will be his next target.”
Kerry looked up from buttering her toast. She didn’t have to ask who Ranulf was talking about, and his pronouncement cast a pall over what was already a pretty grim meal. She set down her knife and pushed back her plate.
Judith looked up from her newspaper. “Did you find new information already this morning?”
Ranulf kept his eyes pinned somewhere between Judith and Sandor, effectively cutting Kerry out of the conversation. She hadn’t had a moment alone with him since he’d stormed out of her bedroom after asking Judith how long she’d known something about Kerry. She didn’t much appreciate the cold shoulder after the night they’d spent together.
“A little. We’ll be following up on a couple of leads after breakfast.”
He obviously wasn’t in the mood to share, but it had definitely put him in a foul mood. Heavy lines bracketed his mouth. Sandor was making more of an effort to hide his thoughts behind a façade of good humor, but she could practically see the tension thrumming in his veins.
“Will one of you have time to drive me to my apartment this morning? I need to pick up some papers and then go into the office.” She didn’t really want to go to either place, but darned if she’d let him talk around her as if she’d just been another piece of furniture.
“Hell, no!” Ranulf’s eyes flashed dark and furious. “If you set foot outside of this house, we might as well stand you on the street corner with a target on your chest. You’re staying put.”
She met him glare for glare. “And just who died and made you king?”
Ranulf leaned forward and planted his elbows on the table, all business and temper. “I promised Dame Judith I would keep you alive. If I have to tie you to the bed to do so, I will.”
“Ooh! Sounds kinky, big guy.” She gave him a sweet smile designed to tick him off. “But sorry, not interested.”
Judith held her napkin to her mouth, hiding a smile, clearly delighted at seeing her fiercest warrior tangled up in knots. Even Sandor looked amused.
Ranulf’s big fist came down hard on the table. “Kerry, I am not about to—”
His tirade was cut off by the sound of a cell phone ringing. It wasn’t hers. She’d turned it off and left it back in the bedroom. Sandor checked his and shook his head. Ranulf frowned and stepped out into the foyer. A second later he was back with a phone, glaring at the screen as it continued to ring.
Kerry asked the question that all of them were wondering about. “Aren’t you going to answer it?”
Ranulf looked around the table. “The caller’s ID is blocked.”
“Then the best way to find out who’s calling is to ask. Unless you’d rather I did.” Kerry held out her hand, knowing full well he’d never surrender that much control to her.
The look he shot in her direction as he punched the button and held the tiny device up to his ear warned her that retribution would be forthcoming. “Yeah?”
His eyes turned glacial and the temperature in the room plummeted. “Bradan. How nice of you to call, you murdering son of a bitch. I hope you’ve been putting your affairs in order.”
Although she couldn’t hear the other’s response, she knew it had to do with her because Ranulf’s gaze immediately went to her and stayed there. As he continued to listen, her heart fluttered in her throat and her breakfast turned into a queasy lump in her stomach. Whatever Bradan was saying had Ranulf holding the phone in a white-knuckled grip.
Ranulf had clearly had enough. “You forget whom you’re talking to. I don’t take orders, especially from weaklings like you.”
He listened for another few seconds, and when he laughed, it had nothing to do with humor. “You go right on believing that if you want to, boy. But your hours are numbered. You’ve seen renegades die before, so you know there’s only one way this is going to end for you—badly. Come in now, and I’ll ease your passing.”
When Bradan replied, Ranulf fell silent, his face chiseled out of granite. “You touch one hair on her head, and I’ll rip away every ounce of the energy you’ve stolen while your skin burns and you beg for mercy. Then I’ll dance on your grave.”
His voice dropped to a scary whisper. “And while you turn blue and choke on your own spit, I’ll be smiling.”
He slammed the phone shut, his breath coming in jerks, as if he’d run a marathon. Knowing he wouldn’t like being stared at, Kerry turned her gaze toward the others. The Dame looked pale, but resolute. Sandor muttered, “Gods above,” and shook his head as if to clear it, looking like his worst fears had just been confirmed.
Which irritated the hell out of Kerry. How dare he pass judgment on Ranulf? He wasn’t the one who’d been forced to listen to Bradan’s filth. And it had to have been horrific to have affected Ranulf so strongly.
She got up and went to stand by Ranulf, hating that he looked so alone. “What did he threaten to do to me?”
Ranulf stared down at the phone in his hand. “He said that he’s been practicing, and now that he’s got it right, he’s ready for the real thing.”
“Practicing what? More fires?”
Ranulf didn’t want to answer, because repeating Bradan’s horrendous promises would only give him more power. But knowing Judith and Kerry, they wouldn’t settle for a watered-down answer. He met Sandor’s eyes briefly, reading the usual disapproval and maybe a hint of fear in them.
“He said he’s killed a woman and a young man to get the hang of how it’s done. That’s all I’m going to tell you, except that we’re dealing with one sick bastard.”
He shoved the phone into his pants pocket, resisting the urge to smash it with his fist. “He knows Kerry is here, and thanked me for herding all of his intended victims into a convenient spot. He called it ‘one-stop shopping.’”
“Dear God.” Judith went ashen.
As Kerry scooted closer, Ranulf gathered her into his side, knowing she needed the comfort that touch would provide. They needed to make plans, ones that included getting Kerry safely out of harm’s way until he and Sandor could corner their prey.
He let Kerry’s scent seep into his bones, aware that the comfort being offered was a two-way street. The press of her body along his warmed him from the inside out, her acceptance of who and what he was, a balm to his raw nerves.
The truth of what he did for the Kyth didn’t seem to repel Kerry. She even accepted the necessity of Bradan’s death without hesitation. He met Judith’s gaze across the table. The older woman gave him a nod of approval, which reminded him that the two of them were long overdue for a talk.
“We need to get out of here today, and that includes Josiah. We can’t leave anyone behind who could be used as a pawn in Bradan’s game.” It took all of his strength to ease away from Kerry. “Go get packed up, Kerry. Sandor, you’ll take the women and Josiah someplace safe while I wait here for our friend. I’ll call when it’s over.”
“Won’t he be expecting us to do exactly that?” Kerry wrapped her arms across her waist. “Then all he’d have to do is follow us from one place to the next.”
“Maybe, but we won’t be leaving by the front door. Will we, Judith?”
The color had returned to her face. “No, you won’t. Kerry, dear, would you go to the kitchen and ask Josiah to put on a fresh pot of coffee for me? I need to talk to these gentlemen for a minute, privately.”
“Have I told you how much I hate secrets?” Kerry asked as she stalked out of the room.
Ranulf stared after her, unable to tear his eyes away. He wanted nothing more than to chase her down and drag her back to her bedroom for a repeat of last night’s performance, maybe adding a few things they hadn’t had time to try out yet. But this definitely wasn’t the time for such thoughts.
“All right, out with it, Judith. What else do you know about Kerry that you haven’t been telling us?” He sat down, determined to get a straight answer out of his leader.