Possession (6 page)

“Yeah. That’s what Sam said. A week went by without any word or request for ransom. Sam was frantic. He was my partner, as well as my brother, and I hadn’t made any kind of attempt to contact him.”

J tilted her head. “I didn’t know the department allowed siblings to partner up.”

“There’s no written rule against it. It was just coincidence. Sam was already a detective here in town when I transferred in. I guess because we both had different last names no one was the wiser when we got paired up. That and the fact that we look nothing alike.”

“You don’t?”

“Nope. I took after Mom. I got her hair and eyes, plus I’m built a little shorter. Stockier. A bit more muscled across the back and shoulders than Sam.” A soft snort of laughter surprised her. “Sam took after his dad. I’m six foot, but Sam makes me look like a midget next to him. Anyway, he got the dark hair and dangerous looks that attracts the girls.”

“How long have you two been working together?”

“A little over four years. Five, come July. Anyway, I don’t remember anything after the raid. Absolutely nothing. What I do remember is waking up in the middle of the park in the dead of night.”

“The park? Here in town?”

“Not too far from that freaky statue, yeah.”

“You mean the one that feels like a clown on drugs?”

Kiel laughed.

It was deep and honest, and sent more shivers through her. Honest to goodness, her knees were feeling wobbly.

“Come to think of it, that’s exactly what that damn thing looks like,” he admitted.

J saw him make a movement and realized he was rubbing the back of his neck.

“So you woke up one night in the park. Then what happened?” she urged.

“Sooo, I walked home. That’s when I found the police tape on my apartment. And since I couldn’t find my key to get inside, I decided the next best thing would be to go over to Sam’s.”

“Bet he was floored.”

“That’s putting it mildly.” His voice grew very solemn. “Ten minutes later he was screaming in horror.”

During his dialog J had found herself slowly inching back toward him. His story was baring his soul. The retelling was also painful for him. She knew without asking that she was the only other person he’d given the truth to. Sitting back down beside him, she reached out to encounter the sleeve of a lightweight shirt. He was dressed in casual clothes.

“Why? What happened?”

“I was filthy. My clothes were hanging off me in rags and covered in blood. I looked like I’d been dragged through hell and back. He wanted to take me to the emergency room but I told him I felt okay. That all the blood and stuff must’ve come from someone else. Sam went into the kitchen to get me a dishtowel so I could wipe the worst of it away before calling the station to let them know I was back.” He took a deep, shuddering breath. “He held out the towel for me to take, and m-my hand just…it just went right through it.”

A soft sob shook his shoulders. J reached out to find his hand. It was solid beneath hers.

“It scared you as much as it did him.”

She saw his head nod slightly. He wouldn’t look at her, but kept his head bowed.

“Then what happened?”

“We sat there staring at each other. After a while I got up and reached for the towel again. I could touch it then, if I concentrated really hard. We sat up the rest of the night and talked. Tried to figure out what to do. Little by little I discovered other things I could do. But what surprised us the most was that if I wanted to, I could look and feel human. Normal. Alive. No one could tell the difference. No one could tell I was…dead.”

There was a little hitch to his voice that made her pause. She leaned back slightly in surprise. He must have seen the look on her face and read it correctly.

“J, I swear to God, the last thing we ever expected to hear come out of your mouth was to affirm what we’ve been trying to deny these past couple of weeks.”

“That you were dead?”

“Yeah.” It was softer than a sigh.

One minute passed. The grandfather clock in the entryway chimed the quarter hour. The wood in the fireplace hissed. The rough warmth it put out felt surprisingly good on her bare skin.

“So, how did you manage to fool the police and go back to work?”

He chuckled again, but without the humor. “It’s a very long and convoluted piece of trickery Sam and I devised. But as long as I’m able to keep myself solidified, I can pass myself off as one of the living.”

He shifted slightly before continuing. “When we’re off the clock, Sam and I have been trying to find my body. Find out what happened to me after that raid.”

Reaching up, he ran the tips of his fingers over her cheek. J closed her eyes, savoring the touch.

“I’ve overstayed my welcome,” he murmured, his lips so close to hers. “It’s been a long day for you, and I’m keeping you from resting.”

“I’m glad you came,” she said hurriedly, yet neither one of them made a move to get up from the divan. J took the advantage to move closer to him. Just enough to where she could lower her forehead and let it rest on a muscled shoulder. The contact filled her with promise. “Thank you again for all you did today to help me. Up in that apartment, I mean.”

His fingers came up again and brushed her cheek, trailing down to her jaw. The path he left awakened her senses, making her wish he would go back and touch her again. But they kept moving, caressing her skin until they reached her chin. Then, to her utter surprise and delight, he lifted her chin slightly. His lips came down over hers, warm and totally unexpected. There was no movement on his part. No mashing or attempt to breach the shallow opening between her lips and surge into her mouth. Just a soft pressure, not any firmer than when he had held her hand. Then it was gone.

Wordlessly he got to his feet and headed for the front door. J struggled to stand and tried to follow him. She managed to catch him before he closed the door behind him.

“Kiel?”

“Goodnight, J. We’ll be calling you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” she replied weakly. She saw his glow fade in the distance. Then, a blink later, it was gone.

Mechanically, she closed the door and locked it. Making her way back into the library, she checked to make sure the screen was up in front of the fireplace before trudging upstairs to her cold and lonely bedroom.

She changed into her cotton pajamas before crawling underneath the sheet and hand-sewn quilt, and listened to the sounds of the old house settling. The creaks and groans she’d grown up hearing were familiar and comforting because she knew there was nothing that could hurt her inside her sanctuary.

Lying there, she followed the path of his fingers with her own until she reached her mouth. His kiss had been the sweetest thing she had ever felt in her life. It had been more sensuous than any other kiss she’d experienced. Why he’d kissed her was a mystery. Maybe it was a thank you for listening to his story without condemnation. Or maybe it was because he wanted so hard to believe he was still among the living, and the simple act of touching and kissing was his way of confirming that.

Or maybe he’d kissed her because she’d so desperately wanted him to. And somehow he had known that.

Rolling over onto her side, J curled up and tried to unwind, but her mind remained in a state of unrest. More, her body continued to remind her of his strength and his warmth. He had touched only her hands, her shoulders, and her face. He had yet to embrace her, and J wondered how deeply it would affect her when he did.

When he did.

She groaned. There was no doubt in her mind that Kiel Stark would take her into his arms. Perhaps kiss her again. Yes, he would kiss her again because she wanted him to.

And then what?
And then what,
je t’aime
? Then what? He’s dead. He has no future left. He’s living on borrowed time as it is. Once he finds his body, when he finds it, then what will you do?

Groaning again, J buried her face in her pillow where the groan became a muffled sob.

Downstairs the clock struck the hour of ten. Then eleven. She also heard it when it struck midnight and one o’clock. It was two before she finally was able to fall asleep.

Tuesday

The night was cool but comfortable. Overhead, the stars peeked between the leaves of the trees that were mere shadows against the darkness.

To his left, a little more than a twenty yards away, was that damn statue the city had commissioned and put up at the entrance of the children’s park. Kiel would bet even money the thing scared more children than entertained them.

The night was very close to being exactly as it had been when he’d awakened here. A touch cooler, but other than that a perfect copy. Squatting down he ran his hand over the spot where he had come to, dead but alive. The grass was still green and long. It hadn’t been mowed in a while, just like it hadn’t been mowed when he had awakened.

He took a deep breath. It was instinctive, automatic. He no longer needed air to survive. Everything he did was out of habit. But everything he smelled, everything he touched, all of that was real. In fact, it was too real. Too much sensation bombarded him from all sides, as if dying had finally given his body the chance to savor the world the way he should have when he lived.

A thickness in his chest gave way to a soft sob. Crap, he couldn’t even cry anymore. Shoving his fingers through his hair, Kiel glanced upward at the heavens.

He almost hadn’t recognized her when she’d opened the door. The pale, swaddled figure he had escorted around today had shed her cocoon, revealing a butterfly of heart-pounding beauty. Her skin had glowed and smelled faintly of something floral he didn’t recognize. Hair the color of caramel hung in a ponytail down her back, giving her the appearance of a teenager.

And, dear God, the body underneath that loose top and short shorts. She was pale, proving she didn’t go out in the sun very often. Or if she did, she was careful to keep her skin well-covered. But there was no way he could miss the full breasts, the slender waist, and firm thighs.

One thing was certain. Kiel knew by the end of the day that he had fallen in love with J Laurent. Tonight only capped his misery.

She didn’t shy away from him. She didn’t withdraw from his touch, or try to keep her distance. She knew his circumstances, but it didn’t seem to matter. What made this whole mess worse was that she seemed to have wanted him to kiss her, and there was no way he could remain in that house once he did. He had to get away, away to think and to curse himself and a deity that would allow him to finally find love for the first time in his life.

And I’m a freakin’ ghost.

He had no future. He had no tomorrow that he could share or even offer to her. A humorless chuckle vibrated in his throat. They both were handicapped. Permanently handicapped.

Closing his hands into fists, he recalled the silkiness of her skin. The top of her head came up to his nose. Her forehead was a canvas for him on which to paint his kisses. He could feel the temptation of her breasts when he’d lightly brushed his knuckles against them, and at that moment he had felt his whole body pull toward her like a magnet drawn to its opposite pole.

She was life. Sweet, irresistible life. Of course she was his opposite. She was everything good in this world—freedom, possibilities, happiness. He had nothing to give her. Absolutely
nada
.

But how could he give her up when every voice inside him cried out how unfair it was? Without thinking, he tried to ram his fist into the ground. The reality of his situation bit him in the butt when he watched his hand and wrist disappear into the ground like smoke.

A whimper escaped him. Listlessly he dropped to the ground.

Honest to God, he’d only meant to go over tonight to apologize for Sam. And to let her know what had happened to him to make him this way. Maybe deep down he had hoped she could help him find some kind of explanation or reason, because he certainly didn’t have one.

Now he realized he’d only been fooling himself. Yeah, he had intended on checking on her, to make sure she was doing okay after the crap she’d been forced to go through. And he did want to offer an apology. The explanation—well, that was a given sooner or later.

No. After they had dropped her off at her place this evening, Kiel hadn’t wanted to leave her. Now things were only made worse. Those voices inside him had demanded he go back to that old house and take her into his arms. To taste her lips with all their incredible sweetness. And then sweep her upstairs and rip that flimsy shirt and pair of shorts off of that full, firm body before laying her across her bed and plunging himself…

Oh, fuck, no.

She wouldn’t turn him away. All that warmth that had wrapped itself around his frozen soul had been her way of telling him she accepted him. Without words, without question.

So why in hell was he sitting out here in the middle of the park?
Because the last vestiges of humanity inside you are saying that unless you can better her life, unless there’s some way you can make her happy, that little dream of yours will stay unfulfilled.
She has a life now. She
is
life. Don’t be a jerk and think you can make a difference because you can’t. And you never will.

There was only one door left open to him now. The last door. Through it he needed to proceed to find his body and allow this spirit self of his to rest in peace. Sam would find the perps responsible and make them answer to justice. Then his brother would be able to grieve, the way he should have a month ago.

But why did the thought of letting her go have to hurt so goddamn much?