Entranced (11 page)

On the other side of Sebastian was Anastasia. Mel wondered why a woman as hauntingly lovely as Ana didn’t have a date. Then she reminded herself that such a thought was sexist and stupid. Not every woman—herself included—found it necessary to go everywhere hanging on to the arm of a man.

Mel dug into her popcorn and settled into the movie.

“You going to eat all that?”

“Hmm?” Distracted, she turned her head. Then jerked it back quickly. She’d practically been lip-to-lip with Sebastian. “What?”

“You going to share, or what?”

She stared a moment. Wasn’t it odd how his eyes seemed to glow in the dark? When he tapped a finger on the box of popcorn in her lap, she blinked.

“Oh, yeah. Help yourself.”

He did, enjoying her reaction to him every bit as much as the buttery popcorn.

She smelled … fresh. Sebastian kept part of his mind on the twists and turns of the plot and let the rest wander at will. He found it pleasant to be able to scent her soap-and-water skin over the aromas of the theater. If
he let himself, he could hear her pulse beating. Steady, very steady, and strong—and then a quick jerk and flutter when the action heated up on-screen.

What would her pulse do if he touched her now? If he were to shift his body and take that wide, unpainted mouth with his own?

He thought he knew. He thought he could wait and see.

But he couldn’t quite resist a gentle poke into her own thoughts.

Idiot! If she knows somebody’s after her, why is she bopping down the street in the dark? How come they always have to make women either
dumb or helpless? There she goes—running into the park. Oh, sure, it makes perfect sense to haul her butt into the bushes where he can slit her throat. Ten to one she trips … Yep.

Oh, well, that one deserves to get iced.

She crunched on more popcorn, and Sebastian heard her wish absently that she’d added more salt.

Her thoughts stuttered to a halt, then tangled into confusion. What he was reading in her head he could see on her face.

She sensed him. She didn’t understand what it was, but she sensed an intrusion and was instinctively blocking it.

The fact that she did, the fact that she could, intrigued him. It was very rare for anyone outside his family to feel his scannings.

There was some power here, he mused. Untapped, and certainly denied. He toyed with the idea of pushing a little deeper. Beside him, Ana stirred.

“Don’t be rude, Sebastian,” she said gently.

Relenting, reluctantly, he gave himself over to the movie.

He reached for some popcorn, and his fingers brushed Mel’s. She flinched. He grinned.

*  *  *

“Pizza,” Morgana said when they stepped outside. “With the works.”

Nash ran a hand down her hair. “I thought you said you wanted Mexican.”

She smiled, patting her belly. “We changed our minds.”

“Pizza,” Ana agreed. “No anchovies.” She smiled at Mel. “How about it?”

Mel felt herself linked in this ring of good fellowship. “Sure. That sounds—”

“We can’t,” Sebastian interrupted, laying a hand on her shoulder.

Curious, Morgana pursed her lips. “I’ve never known you to turn down food, darling.” She shot a quick, humorous look at Mel. “Cousin Sebastian has outrageous appetites. You’d be amazed.”

“Mel’s much too practical-minded to be amazed,” Sebastian said coolly. “What astonishes, she merely dismisses.”

“He’s only baiting you.” Ana gave Sebastian a quick dig in the ribs. “We’ve seen so little of you lately. Can’t you spare another hour, Sebastian?”

“Not tonight.”

“Well, I can …” Mel began.

“I’ll see the lady home.” Nash winked at Mel. “I don’t have any problem taking on three beautiful women alone.”

“You’re such a generous man, darling.” Morgana patted her husband’s cheek. “But I think Sebastian has other plans for his lady.”

“I’m not his—”

“Exactly.” He tightened his grip on Mel’s shoulder. “We’ll do it next time.” He kissed both of his cousins. “Blessed be.” And he propelled Mel down the sidewalk toward his bike.

“Listen, Donovan, we said this wasn’t a date, and maybe I’d have liked to go along with them. I’m hungry.”

He unsnapped a helmet, then dropped it on her head. “I’ll feed you eventually.”

“I’m not a horse,” Mel muttered, fastening the helmet. “I can feed myself.” Pouting only a little, she glanced over her shoulder at the retreating trio as she climbed behind Sebastian onto the bike. It wasn’t all that
often that she went out with a group—and particularly a group she felt so comfortable with. But if she was annoyed with Sebastian for breaking it up early, she had to be grateful to him for including her in the first place.

“Don’t sulk.”

“I never sulk.” She rested her hands lightly on his hips for balance as he drove away from the curb.

She enjoyed the feeling of the bike—the freedom of it, and the risk. Perhaps, when her cash flow was a little more fluid, she’d look into getting one for herself. Of course, it would be more practical to have her car painted and tuned first. Also, there was that leak in the bathroom that needed to be dealt with. And she really wanted some new surveillance equipment. The high-tech stuff cost the earth.

But she might be able to swing it in another year or so. The way things were going, her books ended nearly every month in the black. Breaking up that burglary ring and saving Underwriter’s a hefty chunk in claims might just shake a bonus loose.

She let her mind drift in that direction, her body automatically leaning with Sebastian’s in the curves. Mel wasn’t aware that her hands had slid more truly around his waist, but Sebastian was.

She liked the sensation of the wind in her face, on her skin. And, though she wasn’t proud of it, she enjoyed the way her body fit snug to his with the bike vibrating seductively beneath them.

He had a very … interesting body. It was difficult not to notice, Mel thought, since they were sharing such a small space. His back was muscled beneath the butter-smooth leather jacket. His shoulders were quite wide—or maybe they only seemed so because his hips were lean and narrow.

There were muscles in his arms, as well. Not that she was overly impressed with that sort of thing, she reminded herself. It was just that it surprised her that someone in his line of work—so to speak—was so well built.

More like a tennis player than an oracle.

Then again, she supposed he had plenty of time for working out, or riding his horses, or whatever form of exercise he preferred, between visions.

She began to wonder what it might be like to own her own horse.

It wasn’t until she realized he was swinging onto the eastbound ramp of 156 that she came to attention.

“Hey!” She rapped her fingers on his helmet. “Hey, Daniel Boone, the trail’s back that way.”

He heard her clearly enough, but shook his head. “What? Did you say something?”

“Yeah, I said something.” But she did precisely as he’d hoped she would. She wiggled closer on the seat and leaned against him. He felt every curve. “I said you’re going the wrong way. My place is back there, about ten miles back there.”

“I know where you live.”

She huffed and kept her voice lifted over the purr of the engine. “Then what are we doing out here?”

“Nice night for a drive.”

Yeah, maybe it was, but nobody had asked her. “I don’t want to go for a drive.”

“You’ll want to go on this one.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, where are we going?”

Sebastian zipped around a sedan and punched it up to sixty.

“Utah.”

It was a good ten miles before Mel managed to close her mouth.

*  *  *

Three o’clock in the morning, in the ghastly light of the parking lot of a combination convenience store and gas station. Mel’s bottom felt as though it had been shot full of novocaine.

But her mind wasn’t numb. She might have been tired, cranky and sore after riding on the back of a bike for four hours, but her mind was functioning just fine.

Right now she was using it to develop ways of murdering Sebastian Donovan and making it the perfect crime.

It was a damn shame she hadn’t brought her gun. Then she could just shoot him. Clean and quick. On some
of the roads they’d been traveling, she could dump the body into a gully where it might not be found for weeks. Possibly years.

Still, it would be more satisfying to beat him to death. He had her by a few inches, and maybe fifty pounds, but she thought she could take him.

Then she could ditch the bike, hop a bus, and be back in her office bright and early the next morning.

Mel stretched her legs by pacing the parking lot. Occasionally a semi rattled by, using the back roads to avoid weighing stations. Apart from that, it was dark and quiet. Once she heard something that sounded suspiciously like a coyote, but she dismissed it.

Even out here in the boonies, she assured herself, people had dogs.

Oh, he’d been clever, she thought now, kicking an empty soda can out of her way. He hadn’t stopped the bike until they’d been past Fresno. Not exactly walking distance back to Monterey.

And when she’d hopped off, punched him, and let loose with a string of curses that should have turned his ears blue, he’d simply waited her out. Waited her out, and then gone on to explain that he’d wanted to follow James T. Parkland’s trail.

He’d needed to see the motel where David had stayed with the first woman he’d been passed to.

As if there were a motel. Mel kicked the hapless can again. Did he really expect her to believe they would drive up to some dumb motel with a dinosaur out front?

Right.

So, here she was, tired, hungry, and numb from the waist down, stuck on some back road with a crazy psychic. She was two hundred and fifty miles from home, and she had eleven dollars and eighty-six cents on her person.

“Sutherland.”

Mel whirled and caught the candy bar he tossed her. She would have cursed him then, but she had to snag the soft drink can that came looping after it.

“Look, Donovan …” Since he was busy with the gas pump, she stalked over, ripping the wrapper off the
candy bar as she went. “I’ve got a business to run. I have clients. I can’t be running around half the night with you chasing wild geese.”

“You ever done any camping?”

“What? No.”

“I’ve done some up in the Sierra Nevadas. Not far from here. Very peaceful.”

“If you don’t turn this bike around and take me back, you’re going to have an eternity of peace. Starting now.”

When he looked at her, really looked, she saw that he didn’t appear tired at all. Oh, no. Rather than suffering from four hours of traveling, he looked as if he’d just spent a week at some exclusive spa.

Under the relaxation, the calm, was a drumming excitement that took hold of her pulse and set it hopping. Resenting every minute of it, Mel took a healthy bite of chocolate.

“You’re crazy. Certifiable. We can’t go to Utah. Do you know how far it is to Utah?”

He realized the temperature had dropped considerably. Sebastian peeled off his jacket and handed it to her. “To the place we want, from Monterey? About five hundred miles.” He clicked off the pump, replaced the nozzle. “Cheer up, Sutherland, we’re more than halfway there.”

She gave up. “There must be a bus depot around here,” she muttered, tugging on his jacket as she headed toward the harshly lit store.

“This is where he stopped off with David.” Sebastian spoke quietly, and she stopped in her tracks. “Where they made the first switch. He didn’t make the kind of time we did, what with traffic, nerves, and watching the rearview mirror for cops. The meet was set for eight.”

“This is bull,” Mel said, but her throat was tight.

“The night man recognized him from the sketch. He noticed him because Jimmy parked all the way across the lot, even though there were spaces just out front. And he was nervous, so the night man kept an eye on him, thinking he might try to shoplift. But Jimmy paid.”

Mel watched Sebastian carefully as he spoke. When he was finished, she held out a hand. “Give me the
sketch.”

With his eyes on hers, Sebastian reached in the top pocket of the jacket. Through the lining, his hand brushed lightly over her breast, lingering for a heartbeat before he lifted the folded sketch out.

She knew she was breathing too fast. She knew she was feeling more than that brief, meaningless contact warranted. To compensate, she snatched the paper out of his hand and strode toward the store.

As she went inside to verify what he had just told her, Sebastian secured his gas cap and rolled the bike away from the pumps.

It took her less than five minutes. She was pale when she returned, her eyes burning dark in her face. But her hand was steady when she tucked the sketch away again. She didn’t want to think, not yet. Sometimes it was better to act.

“All right,” she told him. “Let’s go.”

*  *  *

She didn’t doze. That could be suicide on a bike. But she did find her mind wandering, with old images passing over new. It was all so familiar, this middle-of-the-night traveling. Never being quite sure where you were going or what you would do when you got there.

Her mother had always been so happy driving down nameless roads with the radio blaring. Mel could remember the comfort of stretching out on the front seat, her head in her mother’s lap, and the simplicity of trusting that somehow they would find a home again.

Heavy with fatigue, her head dropped to Sebastian’s back. She jerked up, forcing her eyes wide.

“Want to stop for a while?” he called to her. “Take a break?”

“No. Keep going.”

Toward dawn he did stop, refueling himself with coffee. Mel opted for a caffeine-laden soft drink and wolfed down a sugar-spiked pastry.

“I feel I owe you a decent meal,” Sebastian commented while they took a five-minute breather somewhere near Devil’s Playground.

“This
is
my idea of a decent meal.” Content, she licked sugar and frosting off her fingers. “You can keep the pheasant under glass.”

Her eyes were shadowed. He was sorry for that, but he’d acted on instinct—an instinct he’d known was right. When he slipped an arm around her, she stiffened, but only for a moment. Perhaps she recognized that the gesture was one of friendly support and nothing more.