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Authors: Debra Mullins

Tags: #Fiction, #Paranormal romance

Prodigal Son (30 page)

BOOK: Prodigal Son
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Without hesitation, she tossed the clothes on the bed and wrapped her arms around him, squeezing tightly. “How awful,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

The simple gesture tore away the last of his restraint. He buried his face in her hair, holding on as the rest of it came pouring out. “I was twenty-three and preparing to walk my Soul Circle, but after the incident my parents wouldn’t sanction it. Everyone completes the Soul Circle at twenty-four. It’s a rite of passage, a graduation that shows we’ve mastered our abilities. But they wouldn’t let me do it.”

“Wasn’t there some other way you could still do it?”

“No.” His voice caught, and he squeezed his eyes shut and forced the rest of the words out. “My mother is the head of our religion, and only she can preside. I already felt crushed that a man died, and that Dar almost had. What I did was stupid. I was young and thought I knew everything. I had the best power, the strongest power.” He took a deep, shaky breath. “That day I learned how dangerous I could be. I left that night, just took off. It was better for everyone.”

She’d been stroking his hair, but now her hand stilled. “You explained to your parents why you were going, right?”

“No.” She started to pull out of his arms, and he scrambled to add, “Look, they weren’t going to listen—”

“So you just left? With your brother fighting for his life and a man dead?” She narrowed her eyes and stepped back, leaving his arms empty and cold. “Did you ever contact your family, let them know why you took off? Or to say you were sorry?”

“No. I keep telling you, it was better this way.”

“Better for whom? For you, certainly, since you didn’t have to face the consequences of your mistake.” She crossed her arms, her eyes flinty. “You screwed up and left your parents to clean up the mess.”

“It wasn’t like that.” But even as he said it, he realized the truth.
Yes, it was
.

Her next words came like bullets, fast and hard. “You went haring into danger, causing injury and death. That’s bad enough, and maybe things would have smoothed out eventually if you’d stuck around. But you caused all this chaos, then
just left,
with your brother in the hospital and your parents having to make explanations and reparations on your behalf. Did it occur to you how all this would affect them? I’m sure they were worried about your brother and maybe even you, too, since apparently they had no idea where you were or what had happened to you. My God, Rafe, what were you thinking?”

“I was thinking I was dangerous! Damn it, I got one man killed and nearly did the same to my brother.” He turned away from her, swiping his hands over his face. “Do you have any idea how that made me feel? What if it happened again? I had to get as far away from them as I could, as fast as I could. I had to learn control—before someone else died.”

Her silence weighed on the room like a heavy wool blanket in August. “You have to fix this,” she said finally, her voice soft.

He turned to face her. “I don’t know how.”

“You need to figure it out. This is your family, Rafe. You can’t take them for granted.” She stepped closer, her expression intent. “Do whatever you have to do, no matter how uncomfortable or demeaning it might feel, to make them understand that you are truly sorry for what you did.”

“I
am
sorry. Damn it, I went away to protect them.”

“I guess you need to tell them that.” She gave him a small smile. “You mind readers need to get used to verbalizing things like the rest of us mortals. I think you’re all spoiled.”

“We can’t read each other, except for Dar. Makes things awkward sometimes. Confusing.”

This time she chuckled. “Welcome to the human condition. Normal people have to deal with that all the time.”

“I don’t know how you do it.”

She shrugged. “We have no choice, so we deal. And back when all this happened, maybe you felt you had no choice either, to do what you did. But you’re older now, and you need to start dealing with this. It’s been too long.”

“There’s more.” He longed to have her arms around him again but stayed where he was. “All my life I thought my ancestor was the only person to escape Atlantis. Today Gray told me I was wrong, that there are lots of us. And not just Seers. There are other kinds of people with other kinds of abilities.”

“Gray,” she said. “Gray is like you?”

He nodded. “Apparently there’s a bunch of Atlanteans who hate Seers, want to see us dead. I just found this out today. My parents confirmed it.”

She frowned. “I thought they had told you that your ancestor was the only one to escape.”

“They did. They lied. We’ve been in danger all our lives—they knew it—but they never told us. Not even when we were old enough to defend ourselves.”

“Oh, Rafe.” She let out a gentle sigh. “They love you. I don’t need psychic abilities to see that. I think you and your parents need to sit down and talk all this out. Make them see your side. And you try to see theirs.”

“You inspire me to fix things. I want to. I do.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I just don’t know where to start.”

“You could start with ‘I’m sorry.’ Then go from there and listen to their side.”

“You make it sound easy.”

“Admitting you made a mistake is never easy. Maybe your mom is feeling that right now.” She came toward him, a calm force of encouragement soothing his battered emotions. “That you want to fix it at all is a step in the right direction.”

“What if they don’t forgive me? What if I can’t forgive them?” The words slipped from his lips before he could stop them, stripping him bare before her all-too-perceptive gaze.

A smile quirked one side of her mouth. “They love you, Rafe, and you love them. Even I can see that, and I’m an outsider.”

“You’re not an outsider.” He pulled her into his arms, staring into her eyes, overwhelmed by the force of his own words. “You’re inside me, Cara. I fought against it, I tried to resist it, but somehow you’re inside me.” He rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes so he wouldn’t know if she lied. He needed the lie. “Why did you tell my family we wanted one room? You said you weren’t sure if you wanted us to keep sleeping together.”

“That’s still true. But the way everyone was ganging up on you, I thought you needed someone on your side. You’re a good man, Rafe, not the monster you seem to think you are. Whatever control problem you have with your power, I have faith you’ll master it.” She pulled back, her expression serious. “I saw your Hunter, and you didn’t hurt
me
. You saved my life. That gets you big points in my book.”

Truth
. Not pity. He nearly staggered from the relief of it. “So you’re sleeping in my bed because of gratitude?”

“No, I’m sleeping in your
room
to show solidarity. A lot’s happened, Rafe, and I have a lot to process. I haven’t decided any more than that.” She stepped out of his arms. “Now I’ve got to get in the shower or we’ll never get to dinner. And I’m starved.”

“Okay.” He stood there, empty arms dangling at his sides, and watched as she retrieved Tessa’s clothes from the bed and headed for the bathroom. She was sharing his room to take his side. He didn’t have the heart to remind her that in a family of psychics—one of them an empath—there was no fooling anyone. He wanted her with him too badly. “Cara.”

She paused in the doorway and looked back at him.

“Thank you,” he said.

She gave him one of her sunny smiles, chasing the shadows from his soul. “Any time.”

She went into the bathroom and closed the door, leaving him alone with the terrible truth he had only just acknowledged himself.

He was in love with her.

“Ah hell.” He rubbed his face with both hands and sank down on the bed to wait for his turn in the shower.

*   *   *

Cara retreated to the privacy of the bathroom, her heart aching for Rafe. Since she’d met him, she could tell he had some demons haunting him, and now she knew what they were. When she’d decided to go to bed with him, she’d wanted adventure, and boy, had she gotten more than she’d bargained for! Psychic abilities and energy crystals and transformations into … whatever. Yet at the heart of it, he was just a guy who’d made a huge mistake, and his family hadn’t forgiven him for it. Heck, he hadn’t forgiven himself.

She stripped off her dirty clothing, grimacing at the sand that fell from the garments and sprinkled across the pristine marble floor of the spacious bathroom. Rafe’s old room looked like a luxury suite in a high-priced hotel, complete with a huge bed and a balcony overlooking the stunning Arizona landscape. And the palace that passed for a bathroom … She doubted the Romans had had such luxury. Gleaming black tile shone against ivory porcelain with fluffy white bath towels, gold-accented fixtures and floor-to-ceiling mirrors. She grimaced at her reflection; she really did look like she’d lost a battle with a sand heap.

She had her choice of a multi-head shower or a deep spa tub. In the interest of time, she selected the shower. Throwing her bra in the pile, she rinsed her panties in the sink. She had no other underwear, but she could wash the delicate nylon with soap and water and dry it with the hair dryer so she could wear them again. The plan took minutes and worked perfectly, and she draped the mostly dry undergarment over the rack shared by the thick, cream-colored towels.

She picked up her clothing and started to fold it. As she shook out her shorts, something fell out of her pocket and fluttered to the floor. Slowly she bent and picked it up. It was a photograph, one she’d been carrying with her since she’d found it on the fridge in Danny’s apartment. She’d been looking at it that morning and had shoved it in her pocket when they’d stopped for lunch—and thank God she had, otherwise it would be toast like everything else she owned.

Danny smiled at her from the photo, giving a thumbs-up to the camera. Beside him was a guy she didn’t know, and the two of them stood in front of a convenience store called Winner’s Circle, each holding one end of a single lottery ticket.

How many times had she seen that surefire grin on Danny’s face? That eternal optimism that
this
time was the big payoff he’d been waiting for his whole life?

Her eyes stung, flooding with moisture before she could stop it. Her throat clogged. She choked a sob, covered her mouth and fell back against the cool black tile, knocking over a shiny black tissue dispenser sitting on the edge of the vanity. Would she ever see Danny again? What would she do if the people who had been chasing them found him first?

She couldn’t lose him. She couldn’t face the rest of her life alone. And her only chance of finding him was a psychic bounty hunter with demons he couldn’t control.

Rafe knocked on the door. “Cara, you all right in there? I thought I heard something.”

She picked up the fallen dispenser and grabbed a tissue to wipe her face. “I’m fine,” she called back, hoping her voice sounded normal. “I’ll be out in a couple of minutes.”

“Okay. Let me know if you need anything.”

“I will.”

Cara set Danny’s photo on the vanity and got into the shower, flipping the faucets on full blast. The blessedly hot water poured down on her, wiping away the grime of the day.

And the tears that continued to trickle down her cheeks.

*   *   *

Night had fallen by the time Adrian got back to the Mesopotamian. He’d checked in with the staff, then made his way to Jain Criten’s penthouse suite. He didn’t have to wait long before Criten and his entourage returned from their evening adventures. The stunned expression on the foreign president’s face when he entered his suite and noticed Adrian waiting for him, was worth the two hours he’d been cooling his heels.

“You.” Criten stopped right inside the door, and his two security guards rushed forward.

Adrian stood and murmured a threat in the Atlantean language. The two guards stopped cold, then glanced at their boss in uncertainty.

Criten came toward him, casting a disgusted look at his security detail. “So,” he said. “A surprise. Mr. Gray, is it not?”

“That’s correct. I’m the head of security for the Mesopotamian.”

“I know who you are.” Criten dismissed his bodyguards with a wave of his hand. The two men took up sentry duty close to the door, and Criten sat down on the comfortable leather sectional. “What can I do for you, Mr. Gray?”

“It’s what I can do for you.”

“Indeed?” Criten leaned back, crossing one leg across the other, stretching his arms across the top of the couch.

“I came to return something of yours.”

“You intrigue me, Mr. Gray. I don’t recall losing anything. Are you certain it’s mine?”

“Absolutely.”

“How hospitable of the head of security to take the time to return missing items. Show me. Don’t keep me in suspense.” Criten smiled, his teeth white in his tanned face.

Adrian unclipped his radio from his belt. “Control, this is Gray. Peterson, bring them.”

“Got it, boss,” came the hiss of the reply.

“Very cryptic,” Criten said as Adrian put his radio back on his belt. “You know, you remind me of someone. Have we met?”

“Maybe a long time ago.” A knock came at the door.

“That was quick,” Criten said. He caught the eye of one of his bodyguards and jerked his head toward the door. The guard checked the peephole, then frowned at Criten. “It’s hotel security.”

“Well, let him in,” Criten said.

The bodyguard frowned as he opened the door to reveal Peterson standing in the hallway. The security guard’s worried expression eased as he saw Adrian. “Here you go, boss.”

“Thanks, Peterson. I’ve got this.”

Peterson nodded, then shoved two men through the doorway, one of them stumbling into Criten’s bodyguard.

“Evan!” The bodyguard steadied his friend and closed the door in Peterson’s face. “Evan, it’s Gadi. What happened to you?”

Evan simply stared at the table lamp, unresponsive.

“What’s wrong with them?” the other bodyguard asked, snapping his fingers in both men’s faces. Neither so much as flinched. Both seemed focused on the light fixtures.

Criten slowly stood. “What is the meaning of this?” he whispered.

BOOK: Prodigal Son
11.93Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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