Matters of the Blood (7 page)

I considered my options for less than a minute. Better water than whine. I started running for the back parking lot and the Rover, which I'd left unlocked. Thank goodness for life in a small town.

I scrambled into the front seat, tossing my pack into the back as I struggled to shut the door all at the same time.

"Ouch!” a voice exclaimed.

I jumped, hitting my head, yelping out a corresponding “ouch.” I whirled, rubbing the top of my head.

There was a man in the back of my car.

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Instantly, flashes of every urban legend I'd ever heard skipped through my mind:
Don't go back to your car, there's a man inside with a knife, a gun...

I scrambled to open the door, my nerves having had enough for one day. My fingers couldn't seem to work the handle. All I could think of was running away as fast as I could, despite my training.

"Wait,” he said, waving his hand in the air practically in front of my face. “I'm sorry. I just came in out of the rain."

He leaned forward. The front of the car was illuminated by the carport's overhead emergency light, so I could see the smile crinkling the corners of his eyes.

I let out the breath I'd been holding, letting the tension subside, the gathered energy fade as I collapsed back into the seat. I knew him ... had known him. Not in the Biblical sense, but—

"Adam Walker? Damn.” My heart was still racing, energy thrumming along my skin.

"Still eloquent, I see.” He flashed even white teeth. Black hair set off a pair of deep sea-green eyes situated in pale skin. Oh. My.

I'd almost forgotten how good-looking he was ... almost. I suppose you could say I'd let myself forget. My body responded almost automatically, a flush building inside me.

"It's been a while,” I said, quietly, remembering the last time I'd seen him—a lot more recently than I'd seen Carlton. “What are you doing here?"

"Yes, it has been a long time,” he said, ignoring my question.

I shivered, reacting to the sound of his voice. It always reminded me of chocolate. Not the wimpy, watered-down oversweet milk chocolate of commercial American candy bars, but the intense darkness of an 85% cocoa Lindt bar, flavor rich on your tongue, deceptively smooth until the tastes explode, capturing your senses, almost orgasmic in its intensity.

"Two years, London.” He relaxed back into the seat and peered out at me from the darkness. “You haven't changed much."

"Someone else told me earlier today that I hadn't changed at all."

A rich laugh floated through the air.

"I said, ‘much'."

I narrowed my eyes and stared at him. “So I
have
changed?"

Another gleam of white teeth.

"It's not obvious, but there's something ... different."

Yeah, different. You could say that.

"I can't say that I ever expected to run into you in my small corner of Texas,” I countered. “So, what are you doing here?"

"Here in your car or here in this town?"

"Both, actually."

His shoulders moved slightly. A shrug? Hard to tell in the shadows.

"I ducked in here to get out of the rain. I'd forgotten you lived in this town. But I can't say I'm sorry I chose this car as my sanctuary."

He leaned forward into the light and smiled again, eyes twinkling, sending heat through my body. “Of course, it was the only one not locked."

"Locked or a hearse,” I said, not totally facetiously.

"Or a hearse,” he repeated, amusement evident.

I returned the smile with one of my own, finally relaxing a little. Despite the attraction, Adam had always been just a friendly acquaintance. No threat, no worries.

"So you climbed in the back?"

He shrugged a little. “It looked more comfortable."

The back wasn't
that
much more comfortable, but the seats did face sideways. More room for his long legs. Not that I was thinking about—

"Nice to see you again."

I extended my hand, not too sure how to act. I didn't think Miss Manners covered this particular situation in any of her etiquette books.
Chapter Ten: What to do when you find someone hiding in your car.

Adam must have not read Miss Manners either. Instead of shaking my outstretched hand, as I'd expected, he bent his head and lightly kissed it, cool lips pressing briefly against my skin. He looked up, gave my hand a little squeeze and let go.

A thrill ran through my body; a rush of energy tingled up my spine. I slammed down my shields and pulled away, almost too abruptly. I could
not
have an episode right now. Damn it. Either my reaction to him had intensified since I'd last seen him, or my new and improved senses made me more susceptible than normal to his inherent charm. We'd played a game over the years, light, non-committal, enjoyable. This was
more
... and eminently more disturbing, yet fascinating at the same time.

"So, Adam Walker,” I said, ignoring my internal red alerts. “Can I drop you somewhere? I'm assuming you need a ride."

"Thank you,” he said, “I'd certainly appreciate it. My driver was supposed to come back later. I hadn't expected the place to be closed."

"You still don't drive?” Amusing thought. He'd never driven in London, but that wasn't uncommon there. Of course, if he'd had a car, he wouldn't be hanging out in mine.

"Is that strange?” he asked, still smiling.

"Not strange, just different. Most folks around here do their own driving."

"I'm not most folks.” The chocolate darkened; deep voice dropping a notch, sliding through the air, liquid and smooth, promising I didn't know what.

I shivered involuntarily. No, damn it, he wasn't. He'd never been. He'd been as conspicuous as Greg Brady at a Witch's Esbat and I'd been drawn to him from night one—a prissy fancy dress party in London thrown by a minor royal. Adam and I had never dated—and I didn't mean just “dating” as a virginal euphemism for sex. We'd never shared dinner, not even a movie. Our M.O. was to see each other at various parties and soirees thrown by other people, leaving separately, going our own ways. Safer ... for me, anyway.

"I appreciate the offer of a ride, Keira. Before we go anywhere, would you mind terribly if I sat in front?"

"Oh, sorry.” I felt my face turning red, something I'd thought myself incapable of doing. You'd have thought I was still in junior high. To cover my embarrassment, I turned back to face the front and started the engine. “Please, come on up."

Adam maneuvered himself into the front, crawling between the two front seats and sliding into the passenger side. It's a pretty tight squeeze for a full-grown person, but he managed it with considerable suppleness.

His clothes were still slightly damp and clung to his skin, the cloth of his shorts outlining strong thighs and other parts I tried not to look at. Thick black hair swept back from a small widow's peak on his forehead, trailing over his collar and nearly halfway down his back, setting off his pale, smooth skin. Definitely not Greg Brady ... more like a dark dream. Adam would probably fit right in at an actual full moon ritual. My thoughts kept going despite my intentions. Adam, skyclad. Oh, goddess. Not going there.

It wasn't easy, but I took a stab at forcing myself to stare straight ahead and not let my mind wander there ... or to the other question in my muddled brain: “boxers or briefs?” I stole another glance. Silk boxers ... if anything at all. He was definitely not the tightie whitie type.

His arm brushed my hand as he folded his body into the front passenger seat, grace in motion, contained energy in action, smooth, fluid, and elegant, but with a hint of controlled power hovering just below the surface. Almost like a shapeshifter. If Carlton was comfortable in his own skin, Adam was poetry in his. Poetry and a little music besides.

"Where can I drop you?” I said, my subconscious taking over and spouting the expected pleasantries. Thank goodness for social conventions or I might find myself babbling like an idiot.

"If it's not too far out of your way, could you take me to the Wild Moon?"

Somehow that figured. A fancy exclusive resort would be just the place for Adam Walker. But I was a little surprised he'd come all this way to vacation. I'd always pictured him in places like Marbella or Monte Carlo, not B.F.E. Texas.

"So what brings you all the way out here?"

"I came to talk to the undertaker, but the building was locked. Since my driver had left, I walked around the back to see if someone was here. Then the rain caught me."

"Why? Did someone die?"

Stupid questions. Embarrassing. I'd be happy to not totally turn into an idiot child before I could get him back to the ranch.

"No, nothing like that. I just needed ... well, it's kind of personal, actually. Kind of a family obligation."

He hesitated a moment. “Were you here for...?” He gestured, indicating the hearse.

"No, not me,” I said quickly. “Just ... you can say it was a family obligation, too. I'm sure he'll be back later. I can give you the number.” I reached around to grab my backpack, meaning to get out one of Marty's business cards.

Adam put his hand on my arm, stopping my movement and sending another flash of heat through me.

"Thanks anyway, but I have his number. Now how about that ride?” His eyes crinkled as he smiled, briefly showing his white teeth.

I exhaled the breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

"Sure. Coming right up. Chauffeur service."

I turned to face front and started the car, promising myself to pay attention to my driving. I had to stop thinking about him, or I'd end up in a wreck. Nothing like a rampaging herd of hormones to ruin your concentration.

I kept my attention on the road, not saying much on the trip out to the ranch. Normally, I loved driving in the quiet shadows of the Hill Country, alone with my thoughts, wrapping the velvet darkness around me like a warm cloak, or a lover's voice. Tonight wasn't quite so silent. In addition to the unnerving presence of my passenger, whom I could feel so very solidly next to me despite my strong shields, the dark was full of the memory of the vision I'd had in the prep room.

These visions unsettled me. I couldn't let myself believe they were all true second sight. As much as I disliked Marty, I didn't want him dead. Not to mention the fact I was afraid that my talent would end up being true clairvoyance. No, not just afraid. I was scared—bone deep scared. The power exhibited during changing didn't necessarily have anything to do with our primary talent, but I was terrified of having to spend the rest of my prolonged life not being able to ever touch others, frightened of what I'd see, of the nightmares that could be generated by a single contact. The worst part was that I had no choice. Talent was inherited, like blue eyes or red hair. I could be fatalistic about it and hope my personal genetic symphony would be kind and the finale would be something I could live with, like shapeshifting or healing, but this particular overture wasn't at all comforting.

"We're almost to the gate."

His voice, still smooth, interrupted my train of thought.

My headlights flashed on a small square of wood hung from one of the horizontal posts that punctuated the fence lining the road. No lettering on the sign, just a stylized red circle cut by what looked like wisps of cloud.

"Nice logo,” I said. “Not exactly obvious, though. Guess they're not much into advertising."

"You haven't come out here before?” He sounded surprised.

"Not exactly,” I answered, not wanting to get into the whole happy clan hunting-ground scenario. “The place was abandoned for so long, we all trespassed on the Point at one time or another, but this part is a little out of my way. Out of most people's way, actually. I imagine that's why the owner bought it. No point in a private exclusive resort if you're in the middle of town."

"Touch?."

Unlike most Hill Country dude ranches, the Wild Moon didn't have the usual arrogant wrought iron sign straddling the gate, proclaiming its status as a possession of someone with more money than sense. If I hadn't been watching for the entrance, I might have missed it. A single lamp illuminated the simple opening, throwing a weak pool of light over the road. I turned the wheel, steering the car up to what looked to be a state-of-the-art electronic gate. A keypad was mounted on the left, about driver's eye level.

I looked over at Adam who smiled, then pulled out a small remote control unit from his pocket and pointed it forward. The gate slid open and I pulled through. Handy. Don't make your guests have to remember anything as mundane as a password. Instead, give them a remote control.

Steadily increasing pools of water on the surface of the caliche road reflected the feeble light. Rain drummed on the roof of the Rover and showed no signs of slowing. In fact, it had gotten heavier over the last few minutes. I could barely see the path in front of me. It was like driving in some sort of weird otherworld, my headlights barely piercing the near-absolute darkness.

"Not so much into lighting around here, are they?"

"Guests pay for privacy here,” Adam answered. “I give them what they want. At least most of the time."

"What do you mean ‘you'?” I asked. “I thought you were here on holiday."

"Not exactly,” Adam said. “Actually, I own the ranch."

A flash of something cut in front of us. I stomped on the brake and wrestled with the steering as we began to skid off the gravel. The rain-slick caliche didn't make it any easier to maneuver, but I managed to keep control as we slid to a stop bare inches from a cluster of live oaks. I could barely breathe. That had been way too close for comfort.

"Was it something I said?” Adam sounded amused.

I looked at my passenger, my hands still gripping the steering wheel. At first I couldn't speak, my brain warring with the hammering in my chest.

"Sorry,” I breathed. “Something ran out in front of us. I almost hit it."

I peered through the windshield, but I couldn't see very far. My night vision was excellent, but tonight it was useless; it was much too dark and the rain completely obscured any view. If I hadn't known better, I'd have sworn I'd seen a creature that ran by on two legs, then four; a shapeshifter, one of my own clan. But it couldn't be.