Love's Deadly Touch (3 page)

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Authors: W. Lynn Chantale

BOOK: Love's Deadly Touch
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“You have to let me go.”

Dana glanced back, nodded slowly and pushed to her feet. She didn’t want to let go, but without permission, she couldn’t, wouldn’t make Sandra suffer at the hands of that man. For the first time in her life Dana felt helpless. All the power she possessed and she could use none of it.

She backed away as a serene smile curved the dying woman’s lips. When her eyes fluttered closed and she exhaled her last breath, the rain ceased. Dana tilted her face to the sky, hoping, praying.

A clammy hand grabbed her naked fingers. “No!” She tried to jerk free, but the man held on. Vitality crackled and flowed from her to the man. The longer he held on the more his features cleared. The crimson staining his face seemed to roll backward into the various cuts and gashes. His eyes became more lucid and his grip tightened on her hand until she thought he’d crush her bones.

“Stop,” she muttered. He continued his vise-like hold on her hand, almost as if he were trying to take her life as well. Darkness crowded in, the sticky, slimy fingers of evil reaching, seeking to sink its poisonous nails into her. Fear held her immobilized and she did not scare easily. She snapped her gaze to his face. A shadowy veil shrouded his countenance. Now she was seeing things. She blinked. She could have sworn a smirk spread his thin lips.

There was no good in this man’s heart, but her gift was indiscriminate. They worked on the just as well as the unjust, no matter how she felt about the man siphoning life from her. Part of her wanted to let go and just let him have what he demanded. It wasn’t like she would be missed.

Don’t you dare!

The familiar voice, full of authority and a hint of fear, demanded a response. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to, but it stirred her waning resolve and something else she didn’t have time to explore at the moment.

Fight!

Spurred on by the quiet command, Dana stared deep into the man’s eyes. She’d practiced this every day of her life and his feeble attempt to thwart her “push” or suggestion was met with a callous shrug. If he could try and steal her powers, why should she show him any courtesy? The Council would just have to understand.

He gripped her hand tighter, but she forged ahead until she could view his very soul. He wasn’t worth saving. Maybe at one time, but not anymore.

Stop.
She screamed the word in his mind so loud, the man released her and clapped his hands over his ears, shaking his head.

Weary, she staggered away, murmuring a phrase that was more instinctual than conscious. The order would remain dormant until the appropriate time. A slow nod ensured that he’d heard her. He stared after her, gaping, his eyes wide and glassy.

Rain sprinkled from the sky while a warm wind caressed her cheek, seeming to wash the last of the ickiness clinging to her person. Only when she was a safe distance away did she succumb to her weakened state, falling to her knees and then facedown.

The price of being the one with the touch was high, often giving a portion of herself until she had nothing, but this man, he’d taken too much.

She rolled to her side, her heart stuttering to function, while her chest constricted and she panted for air. Gentle fingers swept her hair aside, even as it became easier for her to breathe.

Cool misting rain and the unyielding earth kept her grounded in reality. The Council was going to crucify her over this. Tears clogged the back of her throat and she choked on a sob.

How could she have saved a man who deserved to die?

Chapter Four

 

His lips were temptation, his caress a sinful indulgence she craved and no longer questioned. The only time she dared to feel another’s touch was in this place. Lush, fragrant grass cradled her naked body, while rich, damp loam and wildflowers perfumed the air. Warm, gentle breezes lapped at her skin like a lover’s caress. She smiled.

Paradise in the midst of turmoil.

Dana curled her fingers in his thick, luxurious black hair and gave herself over to his lovemaking. A moan eased from her lips when he found the sensitive spot near the curve of her shoulder. He skimmed her naked flesh with his fingertips, igniting small flares of desire in his wake. For the umpteenth time, she wished this was more than just a fantasy. For now it was enough. Or was it?

Simon lifted his head, his green eyes shimmering with passion as he grasped her wrists in one hand and pulled her arms above her head. He placed her hands on either side of the weeping willow tree they lay beneath. The bark was coarse under her palms.

She had to be dreaming. Something soft fluttered over her wrists, binding them in place and then his hands fondled her breasts. No words were needed as his mouth fell on hers, hot and hungry. Yes, she was definitely dreaming. Nothing in reality could be this good, but she wished it would.

Footsteps echoed in the distance. She needed more time.

“I’m sorry, my love.” He trailed a hand down her body until he cupped her mound. “We don’t have very long.”

“Just...” He flicked a skillful finger over her delicate flower, fanning the flames of her desire. “Hurry.”

Simon nodded, lifting her hips and guiding his rigid maleness into her slick channel. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, hoping to imprint the feel and taste of him in her memory forever.

“Open your eyes, sweetheart.”

She obeyed, staring into his rich green depths, reveling in the passion shimmering there. Only then did he move. His thrusts were unhurried, but she felt each one as if he were taking her fast and hard.

Dana wrapped her legs around his waist, hooking her ankles at the small of his back and urging him on. His strokes increased in rhythm. He whispered in her ear while he teased her breasts, his mouth dancing over hers, taking everything she had to offer.

Footsteps drew closer, the vibrations stronger, discordant.

“Now, my love. I need you to come now.” The urgency in his voice combined with his touch was the catalyst she needed. They were moments from being caught.

And when the world tilted and she dragged Simon with her, Dana knew that no one could take this moment from her.

He unbound her hands as he eased from her body. His presence already fading.

“When will I see you again?” she whispered.

“Soon, my love soon.”

Bang!

Dana jumped, taking in the drab gray walls of her office before focusing on the person who dared to intrude on her personal time. She stifled a groan. Angelo Barryman, her assistant.

“What?” She couldn’t keep the annoyance from her voice. Lately he always seemed to invade her space when she took her breaks. Her dream lover usually made his appearance whenever she wasn't sleeping well, but Angelo couldn’t know what she dreamed. Could he?

“I’ve been calling you for like ten minutes. Did you fall asleep again?”

She pushed away from the desk and placed her palms on the surface. “Perhaps. I haven’t gotten much sleep at night.” And it wasn’t because her dream lover always seemed to be waiting for her, but something else, something that overrode her safeguards and lurked on the fringes of her subconscious, just biding its time for her to be alone. And when she was alone...a shudder of revulsion slithered down her spine, a sensation she’d felt before. That night, not too long ago when...she gulped a breath. Warmth enveloped her, held her close.

She stiffened, glancing around. The embrace was familiar, welcome and comforting.

“You all right?”

Dana snapped her attention to Angelo. “Uh—yeah. You needed something?”

He smiled, more like a sneer. She blinked and it was gone. Was she losing her mind?

“Where do you want the pumpkins for tomorrow’s party?”

She rubbed her temples. The Halloween Ball. Why had she agreed to host the thing at her coffee shop? Maybe if this year hadn’t been so crappy already, she wouldn’t mind, but she didn’t have a good feeling about tomorrow’s festivities. Not only would it mark the third anniversary of her parents’ death and a week since that horrible accident, but it was also the time when the veil between the physical and spiritual realms was the thinnest.

Not good when her powers were on the fritz. She pressed her fingers to her head and applied pressure. What was with this headache?

Angelo tilted his head to the side. “You don’t look so good.”

Tension pulsed in her temples, and she narrowed her eyes. “Knock it off!” She put enough force behind her words that the air crackled with electricity and the metal shelves rattled against the wall.

He bowed his head. “I apologize. I was just trying to help.”

The pain in her head eased. Why he insisted on trying to read her thoughts she couldn’t be sure.

“I’m curious. You’re the only one I can’t read. Why is that?”

“Because my thoughts are my business and not yours.” She stared him in the eye and he went still.
Don’t ever forget I can read your thoughts and put ideas in your head.

Angelo nodded in slow motion, pivoted on his heel and with jerking steps plodded from the room. Only then did she release him from her control. He wouldn’t even remember the conversation, the impertinent twit.

But I will.

She stood so fast she knocked over her chair. Again. The same warmth, the voice she recognized from her dreams and she was very much awake.

He’d talked her off a ledge...literally, and now he was offering comfort. She wanted more than the mental connection, than the dreams they shared. She wanted him.

Vibrations struck a discordant note, while unease tiptoed up her spine. A sense of dread filled her. It hovered at the back of her mind, leaving her dizzy and nauseous. Objects around her wobbled, some levitating, while others rattled where they sat. She breathed deep, fighting for control. Papers rustled and fluttered around the room.

A spasm of pain speared her abdomen and she doubled over. Sweat popped on her brow and she felt torn, almost as if someone or something were trying to rip her soul from her body. Not again.

Hold on.

The whispered command was filled with authority and quiet calm. The projected warmth beat back the shadows of darkness enough for her to breathe and regain some semblance of control.

She clutched at her desk, the only thing keeping her from slumping to the floor. No one had been able to get past her defenses in a long time. If she had something to focus on, a shape, an impression that she could use to rise above the pain then maybe, she could do something, anything.

Sadistic laughter, a thin thread of sound, murmured through the room. For a second she wasn’t sure if she’d heard it, but it was enough. She inhaled, forcing the pain away. There was only one way to meet this threat. The desk she clung to rose several inches off the ground.

For a moment everything stilled. A foreboding calm seeped through the air permeating the shop, brushing the occupants with unease. Footsteps pounded. A flick of her wrist sent the heavy wood door slamming shut.

This was between her and whoever decided to challenge her, to invade her space and hurt her.

A mirthless smile creased her lips while sweat trickled down her back. “So you think this is funny, huh?” She gathered energy until the walls of the room seemed to expand and contract with the force. “Then laugh at this.” With deadly accuracy she sent her message singing along the rapidly fading trail.

A muffled scream was her reward and the pain that had lanced her body a moment ago ceased. The insidious whisper withdrew from her mind. She’d had a lot of time to examine that pathway. Every single night since the accident it came at her, muttering dark promises and giving her pain. Did this entity really think it would win?

You shouldn’t have done that.

She got the impression of a frown, which she didn’t think was necessary as the disapproval in the tone was loud and clear.

Then whomever shouldn’t have bothered me.

Dana rolled her eyes and glanced around. Objects in her office still hovered above the floor. A long crack in the wall ran from floor to ceiling. She lifted her hand, intending to set the objects down. Most days she could move things with a simple thought or wave of her hand, but at the moment...her fingers trembled. Something was wrong.

Tension gripped her belly as a shiver tiptoed down her spine. A tingle, much like static electricity, crackled beneath her skin. Power, lots of it, raced toward her, seeking a target and if she moved, if she breathed too loud, it would find her.

Open the door.

“I can’t,” she answered aloud.

The wave of energy paused, as if confused. It swirled around her, stomping, pawing, and sniffing at her like she was prey. As long as she didn’t use her powers it couldn’t pick up her scent. Being surrounded by something so deadly was like being in the midst of thousands of bees. She could hear the deadly hum, see the painful stingers and as long as she was calm, danger was at bay. But for how long? In measured increments she raised a finger.

Don’t even think about it.

The door exploded inward, showering her with pieces of wood. It was a sufficient distraction for the energy seeking an outlet. It veered off course, rushing the user, only to slam against an invisible wall.

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