Yearnings: A Paranormal Romance Box Set (58 page)

Tyr looked down at the police car again. Most of the officers had flooded inside, leaving the loading area deserted. “I cannot lose my freedom.”

With an intelligent, corrupted beast running loose, that was an understatement. But there had to be a way that didn’t involve a three-story plunge to get Tyr out of the building. There was something on the edge of her vision. On the tip of her tongue.

“
The elevator,” Sal blurted out.

“
The what?”

“
It’s a … never mind.”

She pulled him along as she headed toward the northeast corner of the tower, through the Celtic Tradition Display and past The Orient’s Allure: Fact and Fiction exhibit.

Being a frequent visitor of the museum paid off as she found the elevator. Even though the power had been cut off, Sal doubted it would give Tyr much of a challenge. The hunter might barely be able to stand upright, but he gathered three vials and cracked them against the doors.

“
Open,” he whispered.

As heavy footsteps searched the wing, the elevator parted.

Sal punched the darkened ground-floor button. With a lurch, the elevator began its slow descent. Sal knew that she should have been surprised that the elevator worked, but she wasn’t. After all that had happened, it was going to take a hell of a lot to ever surprise her again.

She wasn’t even all that shocked that the beast had once been a man. His cunning was now explained. His interest in the physics department made more sense. A beast would have little use for such a place of science.

The beast …

Somewhere along their headlong flight, Sal had shoved to the back of her mind what his touch felt like. His dried saliva clung to her skin. His smell acrid in every breath. His muzzle against her chest.

Exactly how far was Tyr willing to let that go? Which brought up the painful question of exactly why did the hunter let it happen in the first place? The more she thought upon those questions, the less and less fear drove her pulse. Anger took over.

“
The circle wasn’t for protection. …” The words came out of her mouth before Sal thought them through.

Tyr swayed slightly with the rhythm of the elevator. “No.”

Oh, God. There was that hit in the gut again. Tyr had lied to her.

Betrayed her. Then she remembered his words as he had led her to that stone cross. Only treachery could bring the beast low.

“
What was the powder?”

“
An aphrodisiac.”

He didn’t even parse his words or try to make them more palatable. Sal squeezed her eyes closed. She’d thought that Tyr had just been reckless, giving her the circle as a placebo. But now …

She could barely choke out the words. “You used me as bait!”

“
I hunt,” was all that he said.

Sal knew that he meant that to be an explanation, but she didn’t accept it.

“
The next time you need a worm on a hook, use yourself.”

Rage contorted his face. “What did you think my intent was in the clearing?”

Sal stepped back from his fury, her mind searching to remember events that transpired just a few minutes ago. Had it been that short a time since she had led the beast away from the fallen Tyr?

“
You … you were unconscious. The blow to your head.”

Tyr held out his wrist, the cloth barely tinged with pink after binding a major arterial cut. “Do you not think I can stanch the flow of my own blood?”

The growing pool of red in the clearing. She had been so sure he was in danger. Could she have been so mistaken?

“
I lured the beast to come in for the kill. Once atop me, I would have buried my knife into his heart.”

Tyr’s voice rang with righteous indignation, but she had seen him driven to his knees. That had been no act. “You really expected to survive?”

As the doors opened, Tyr stepped in front of her, putting out a protective arm as they exited. The area was pitch black. The cops hadn’t gotten this far south.

“
I would have had the strength,” he hissed, but she ignored him.

When she tried to stride past, Tyr grabbed her by the arm that the beast had injured. Suppressing a cry, she jerked it from his grasp, almost too easily.

As Tyr tried to right himself, the scimitar slipped from his grasp, clanging to the metal floor. He might have been faking the blood loss, but the injury? The hypovolemic shock? That was real.

“
Are you so sure?” she said as she turned away from him.

When he didn’t react, Sal turned back, but there was no one behind her. Only the scimitar lay on the ground.

Tyr was gone.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 49

Sal snuck back into Richard’s house, exhausted and on the verge of tears. She’d waited until the chaos of the emergency response at the de Young turned attention away from Fulton Avenue.

Tiptoeing, she made her way to the bathroom. Carefully, Sal opened the medicine cabinet. Peeling off her shirt, she assessed her shoulder wound. In the mirror, it looked sojust a red pucker against her russet skin. But its presence spoke such terror. So much terror that she squeezed her eyes shut as she grabbed the antiseptic.

The Betadine stung, but not as badly as the tears she kept at bay. All those men at the museum. The radio had reported eleven dead. No survivors. And the police were having a hard time understanding why entire collections had been destroyed with over twenty-seven million dollars in damage, but not a single item had actually been taken. Without burglary as a motive, the cops were at a loss as to why the hideous crime had been committed.

She could go to the police, but who would believe her?

And knowing Richard, if he heard her fantastical tale, no matter her assertion that she was telling the truth, he might commit her to a mental hospital for her own good.

Better to let Tyr’s secret stay secret.

Once she placed a crisp, white bandage over the wound, Sal pulled her nightgown from its hook. With a sigh, she donned the garment. Looking in the mirror, she was surprised to find herself appearing so normal. Except for the damp hair and dark circles, Sal didn’t look like she’d staked out a boathouse and been anteed up to a beast.

What didn’t kill you made you stronger, right? Sal snorted. Unlike what the Chick lit tried to convince you of, she didn’t feel the better for any of it.

Sal flicked off the light. Studying her tired features wasn’t going to give her any insight into Tyr’s betrayal. Traveling down the hallway, Sal noticed the computer in the den was on, but she ignored it. She knew it was her laptop trying to contact her, but she’d had enough. Just as he had left her to the beast’s vile attentions, Tyr was on his own.

Carefully she cracked open the bedroom door. Whisper-quiet, Sal made her way to the plush, pillow-top bed. The sun was just rising over the Golden Gate Bridge, flooding the room with a warm light. Any other day, she might have admired the view Richard paid over three million dollars for, but this morning, she just didn’t have it in her. She tugged the covers out from Richard’s grip.

“
That took a while,” he murmured as he turned over.

“
Got caught up in a trauma. Now go back to sleep.”

It wasn’t really a lie, now, was it?

Her head wasn’t even on the downy pillow before Richard’s arms enveloped her. The contact felt hot and uncomfortable. Sal realized that coming back to his place wasn’t the best idea. Her fiancé meant well, but his embrace felt smothering rather than comforting. Worse, Richard kissed the nape of her neck, then worked his way around to the hollow of her shoulder.

He didn’t know how much that motion made her skin crawl. How could he? She squirmed, but he must have thought it was in excitement as his hand slid down her thigh, heading inward.

Without thinking, Sal grabbed his wrist. “Don’t.”

“
Too soon?”

Tears brimmed as she came close to cracking. How she wanted to tell him everything. Just let it all spill out, but how could she? Would he really be able to maintain professional detachment if she told him she was nearly raped by a beast, and the man whom she had come to think of as some sort of savior was planning on sitting there, watching?

Instead, Sal choked out, “I guess you were right … I’m not ready.”

She could see the disappointment register on her fiancé’s face. Was he going to mention the fact they hadn’t had sex since the engagement?

Richard lay back down, this time more casually draping his arm over her waist. Not invading her space, but letting her know he was there if she needed him. “There’s no timetable for these things. When you’re ready, you’ll be ready.”

With her fiancé being this loving and supportive, Sal wasn’t sure how she was going to tell him that she might never be ready.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 50

Sal awoke to the smell of egg white omelets and soy bacon. Her eyelids were still puffy and her legs still felt leaden, so she was surprised when she looked at the clock and found that it was nearly noon.

Crap! She was going to be late. The memorial was in a little over an hour. Scrambling, Sal searched through her drawer at the bottom of Richard’s dresser. Not a lot of selection, especially for a eulogy. The black skirt was a given, but she only had a choice of a pink or neon green top.

Neither felt very funeral friendly.

“
You know that if you moved in, you’d have half the closet,” Richard said as he strolled into his closet that equaled almost half of her apartment’s square footage.

“
Then what would you do with all your Armani?” she asked, really hoping she came off as playful rather than condescending.

Luckily, Richard chuckled. “That’s what the guest bedroom’s for.”

With a black suit slung over his shoulder, he moved in for a kiss, but she pretended to have trouble with the strap on her heels.

Even though she went through the motions of starting her day, Sal wanted nothing more than to crawl back inside that bed, or any bed, and sleep away the week. Maybe with enough sleep, she might be able to put the horror of Maria’s death, then Tyr’s betrayal, behind her. Maybe somewhere in there she could forget about the beast and his lurid tongue.

It wasn’t until Richard donned the suit’s jacket that Sal realized he meant to go to the funeral with her. A panic rose that nearly equaled what she felt for the beast. Sal felt too frail to experience Richard’s constricting presence.

She desperately tried to sound casual. “You know, this is a pretty small ceremony, and I’m sure you’re crammed with appointments, especially after canceling the last two days’ worth of—”

“
My schedule is fine. I want to be there for you.”

“
I know, but …”

As he buckled his belt, smoothing the fine Italian leather under the polished pewter, Richard faced her. “But?”

“
I just …” Sal fidgeted with her skirt’s waistline. Without a shirt and only a bra covering her chest, she felt exposed. She wanted to cover up, but that felt equally awkward in front of her fiancé.

“
It’s no secret amongst the staff that you and Maria were …”

“
She was a human being, Sal. I want to grieve just like everyone else.”

Jesus, he was making this hard. Even on a day she wasn’t frazzled by near-death experiences, this conversation would have been difficult.

“
But as you’ve said, funerals aren’t about the dead. They are for the living. In this particular case the staff of S.F. General.”

His lips frowned. “Are you saying you don’t want me to come?”

She lied again, convincing herself it was to protect his feelings. “Me? Yes. The rest of the staff, probably not so much.”

Richard straightened to his full height. Never a good sign. He was upset, but far too supportive to express it. He removed his jacket and tossed it onto the bed as he began unbuttoning his pressed shirt.

“
If it’s what’s best for your co-workers.” Taking a deep breath, Richard’s tone changed—as if she hadn’t just insulted him to the core. “Afterward, why don’t you swing by? I’ll make some dinner. Have a nice evening in?”

Oh, how Sal wished he hadn’t brought up the subject of the evening. She hoped that they could cross this bridge later, over the phone. Not here. Not now. Not right after the whole funeral thing.

She strove for nonchalance as she inspected the pink and green shirts, trying to decide which was the less hideous option. “I was thinking …”

Richard frowned as he put his pewter cuff links back in the jewelry box.

“
Why am I feeling like I’m going to like this even less than the news about the memorial service?”

“
I just feel like I need some space.” As the frown reached his eyes, Sal hurried, “Just a little time on my own to regroup. You know.”

“
Sal, this is not the time to isolate yourself from social interaction.”