Between Darkness and Daylight (20 page)

For all his delinquent activities as a teen, he'd led a pretty sheltered, goody-goody life. Certainly, he'd never come across anyone like this woman, who approached and kissed perfect strangers in the park and spoke of having sex the way most people said they were going to the store to get a loaf of bread.

By the time full introductions were completed, Zane knew that Sinnead had traveled much of the world on the largesse of two well-off parents and spent much of her twenties in Europe, studying painting and photography on stops in Paris and Milan. He barely had a chance to get in anything about his own mundane existence prior to her appearance in his life, but he knew as much about Sinnead McIntosh as he needed to know about any woman he wanted to make his wife. He knew that he wanted her, needed her to be a part of his life for a long time, if not forever.

She was everything against which his parents had ever cautioned him—superficial, self-indulgent, and spoiled—and his mother didn't waste any time letting him know how inappropriate she thought the older woman was for him.

She might as well have picked out the wedding dress for Sinnead and driven them downtown to the Justice of Peace for the license and ceremony.

Only much later, when he and Sinny were well into their fourth year of marriage, did Zane realize his mother might have been right. But not for all the reasons she'd outlined before the marriage, for he was still in love with his wife's fire and passion for life, his feelings growing as each day passed, and he still didn't have a particular problem with the several-year gap in their ages. No, their problems stemmed more from the fact that, where having children was concerned, they were totally out of sync.

Fatherhood wasn't something Zane had gone on about at any great length, but he'd always known that he wanted to have children, had taken it for granted that he would and that whoever he was involved with would want parenthood as much as he did.

Sinny always claimed that they had plenty of time to become parents, that she wasn't going anywhere and unless he was planning to walk out on the relationship, there was no rush.

138

Gracie C. McKeever

Her envy and resentment of his tight bond with Sage had also caused them to butt heads, as had her view of their marriage. Sinny looked at marriage as something she could walk away from when she was unhappy, or when things got too rough for her, not as a lifetime commitment between partners willing to work towards the same goals and wants.

Through all his family's disapproval and resistance and his and Sinny's own opposing views of marriage, Zane always knew his wife loved him and that he loved her. He wasn't, however, always sure if their feelings were enough to sustain the marriage, especially when they began fighting about her aversion to motherhood.

She reached the end of her rope the night Sage delivered the news over Thanksgiving dinner at her house that she was going to have a baby.

Everyone except Sinnead was ecstatic. She’d sulked the rest of the evening, as if his sister popping out another kid had suddenly put the pressure on her to perform and produce a child with Zane. She'd intimated as much to Zane when he'd found her playing a video game with Ransom in the family room, but she’d looked so natural with his nephew, so comfortable and competent, that he couldn't understand her aversion to having a child of her own.

Sure, Zane had heard of women who claimed to have no maternal instincts, and in fact, had several co-workers who, after dealing with case after case of abused and battered children and the parents responsible, wanted nothing to do with children or
men
in any form. And there were others who liked nothing better than doting on their nieces and nephews but swore this was as far as their nurturing instincts went. They were cut out to be only aunts or uncles and that was as far as they wanted to venture into the two a.m. feedings, changing dirty diapers, and wiping snotty noses department. At the end of the day, handing the kids back to their parents was their biggest joy next to getting away from a work place where traumatized and abandoned children were the norm and not the exception.

He felt like an oddity among his peers and co-workers for wanting something that they all shunned, for not allowing a job that was depressing most of the time to dampen his outlook or uproot his deep-seated parental longings and belief in family.

Zane had settled down next to Sinny as soon as his ten-year-old nephew ran off in search of other pursuits in the house.

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139

They cuddled silently for a long moment, Zane nuzzling her ear before Sinny spoke.

"I envy you, Zane, you know that?"

He lifted his head to stare at her and she nodded.

"You've always seemed so certain of what you want, sure and strong.

No doubts, no dwelling on repercussions. I admire that about you, always have."

"I'm not all that strong."

"Yes you are." She nodded again, more emphatically. "And there's nothing wrong with that. It's the way you are. It's why I'm attracted to you.

You're so different from me, from the kids I grew up with. You were probably more mature and responsible as a child than a lot of the adults I came up around."

He didn't want to confirm that his own mother had said as much to him in her numerous arguments against their union.

He had a sneaking suspicion that Sinny was trying to say good-bye but didn't know how to go about it. The hesitation was so alien to her, it had him as confused as she appeared.

"Sinny…"

She put a finger to his mouth. "Let's just enjoy this moment right now for what it is, and we'll think about the rest of it tomorrow."

But “tomorrow” never came for Sinny.

* * * *

Zane's chest ached now with the memory of finding the note on the refrigerator—an apology, a mention of the romantic dinner Sinny had planned for their fifth wedding anniversary, and the ominous closing:

"There's something I have to tell you."
Then the police calling with the news that she was dead, and later, finding out that she'd been carrying their baby.

Not long after her death, Sage had a miscarriage. The family was devastated, but no more than when his twin was diagnosed soon afterward with breast cancer.

140

Gracie C. McKeever

It was a blow Zane wasn't prepared to handle so soon after losing his wife, didn't think he
could
have handled it but for Sinny's last words to him at Sage's just before she was killed:

You've always seemed so certain of what you want, sure and strong…

The words rang hollow in his ears now.

He'd spent his adult life accumulating the very basic kind of human knowledge that told him he couldn't possibly begin to help other people if he wasn't willing to look at himself.

But when he did look at himself, he didn't appreciate what he saw, what he'd become. Because Zane didn't think he had been anymore unsure, uncertain, and weak than he had been since Nova Foxx walked into that office in the precinct. He didn't think he could be more full of doubt than when it came to what to do about her, now that she was in his life.

He knew he wanted to proceed, but not how. He knew that he wanted Nova with the same intensity that he'd wanted Sinny, but he was just too much of a coward, especially after last night, to ask her to be with him, to put another innocent victim through his trials.

When she knocked on the doorjamb and popped her head in his office at eight-thirty, Zane started. As she almost noiselessly made her way across the institutional gray carpeting, he saw in her eyes that the choices were no longer his to make.

Nova had already made her own choice about the risks
she
was willing to take.

* * * *

I'm glad you came.

The words reverberated in her brain so intensely, she was certain that she had tapped into and read Zane's thoughts.

Others might have found this talent exciting and useful. Nova only found it intimidating.

Half the time she couldn't deal with her own mixed-up emotions and thoughts, especially of late. She didn't think she could handle dealing with another's emotions and thoughts, didn't think she wanted to deal with them, even if the "another" was Zane Youngblood.

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141

Nova had come by on the spur of the moment, eager to pick up where they'd left off earlier, craving a sample of his smell and hungry for a look into the earnest tea-colored eyes. She hadn't expected to get so much more than she'd bargained for.

She wondered how far her abilities went. Were they growing, and if so, how much would they grow? What, after all, was the limit on ESP? As far as the imagination could take her? As far as Zane would allow her in?

I've been thinking about you all day.

Nova paused mid-step in front of his desk.

Now that had definitely been Zane. She'd experienced a ripple of heat, then buzzing in her brain, as if an insect had slipped in through an ear and was now busy exploring and chatting up old friends. The ripple of warmth and the buzz preceded the words, but she'd definitely heard Zane's thoughts.

She peered at his face, as yet unwilling to believe it, sure he'd spoken out loud and she hadn't noticed his lips move. "Did you say something?"

"No, not yet." He frowned as he stood and came from behind his desk, eyes lighting with a smile as he approached her, arms spread wide. He drew her into a brief hug then pulled back to stare down at her, eyes unreadable as he seemed to weigh his next words. Instead of talking, he leaned in and kissed her hard on the lips, stopped just short of pushing in his tongue, as if he had second thoughts about sharing too much of himself with her so soon. "I'm glad you came," he finally murmured.

Nova swallowed hard. "So am I."

"You don't look so sure."

She grinned, trying to cover her discomfort. "Would I have come here if this wasn't exactly where I wanted to be?"

"Guess not." Zane shot her a look. "I've been thinking about you all day."

"Thinking what about me?" she teased.

"Take a guess." He waggled his eyebrows and Nova chuckled, relaxing as she slipped her arms around his trim waist. She moved closer, her hip bone colliding with Zane’s erection when he shifted in an obvious effort to avoid full frontal contact.

Did he not want her to know how turned on he was?

Too late, Zany Zane. I know all your secrets.

142

Gracie C. McKeever

She'd read his mind, for Pete's sake! There was no hiding from her for him, unless it had been a fluke. Or maybe more than one of them had gifts here that she wasn't aware of? Perhaps Zane had been broadcasting his thoughts and Nova had just tuned into the signal rather than having snatched thoughts from his mind and invaded his privacy.

The broadcasting idea sounded a lot more palatable, though no less creepy. The entire concept of knowing what someone other than oneself was thinking, of an individual able to transmit his or her thoughts to another, just seemed abnormal to Nova.

How had her mother dealt with her own uniqueness all these years?

Had she ever experienced actual mind-reading capabilities, or did her talents lie solely in reaching spirits of the recently departed?

These were questions to which she realized she should have known the answer, but Nova had always tried to avoid that part of her mother's life, that part of her own heritage, wanting only normalcy and to be like the other kids. It was hard enough starting over in a different neighborhood and school every few months, always being the new kid; it would have been doubly difficult had she been the new
weird
kid whose mother talked to spirits.

No, better to keep her feet firmly planted on the ground, firmly planted in reality. It didn't always work when she had a mother who read palms and human auras the way other people read a daily newspaper, but she'd done her best to keep up the appearance of ordinariness.

"You look like something's bothering you."

Nova shook her head, surprised at his insight. He knew her as well as anyone who'd known her for years, and he'd only known her for a couple of weeks.

She squeezed him tight to her, resting her head on his chest, enjoying the strong beat of his heart and the clean woodsy male aroma wafting to her from his hair and skin.

After last night, she should have been running for her life, running screaming into the night. Instead she was cuddling with a man who was as dangerous to her well-being and sanity as Zane's unknown stalkers were to him.

"You're sure you're okay?" he whispered.

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143

Nova nodded. "I just like holding you." And feeling him against her, solid and safe. They were the only times she was ever sure he was okay—

when he was next to her or within eyesight.

She couldn't decide whether coming to New York so caught up in the thrill of the hunt, so caught up in the excitement of solving a mystery, so caught up in finding
him
, had been a good idea or a bad one
.
Right now, she didn't care—she was just glad she had acted on the impulse.

The visions had yet to stop, throbbing at the edge of her consciousness like a bad tooth. They were never far away from her attention, reminding her that she needed to move, that she had a purpose. She hadn't had any that came close to the inklings she'd had when she met Zane for lunch, nor any as urgent. What her purpose was, she'd yet to figure out. She just knew it involved being close, as close as she could get to him without getting inside his skin.

He put a finger under her chin and tipped up her head for a kiss. "I like holding you too, lady." His mouth swooped down on hers, both demanding and sweet, his tongue coaxing her lips open as he held her close.

She was breathless when Zane pulled away to stare at her, smoothing a long lock of hair away from her face and tucking it behind an ear.

She could get used to this. He was addictive. And she wasn't in her right mind, hadn't been since meeting him, even before that, long before that.