Bedeviled Angel Page 4

  He wouldn’t look at her. “It’s all right. Just a case of mistaken identity, nothing more.”

  “Do you want to see a doctor?” She glanced at him. “It looks kind of deep.”

  A muscle jumped in his cheek, and he clenched his fists. “Leave it be!” he said, his voice rising. “I’m fine.”

  Misty opened her mouth several times to say something, anything to lighten the tension in the small car, but his mood darkened with every mile, and the only words he barked were directions to his apartment.

  The building she pulled up to was neat, but years of weather had faded the paint, some of it peeling in places, and tufts of grass in the parking lot won the battle with the asphalt’s cracks. Taylor got out without waiting for her and headed for the main entrance.

  “Do you want some help?” she asked hesitantly, following him through the door and down the hall.

  He threw open the door with a bang. “If you want,” he grumbled, tossing his keys on the small armchair. Without a word, he headed for the kitchen.

  Misty slid her blazer off as she looked around his home. No pictures, no keepsakes, or knickknacks—nothing personal at all. The air was stale and a layer of dust covered everything. She shivered with what Rena called the heebie jeebies. What am I doing here? I don’t know anything about him. She flinched as she heard him banging in the kitchen.

  “Do you want something to drink?” he yelled.

  She walked to the doorway seeing anger still evident in his expression. “No, thanks.” He wasn’t angry at her, but she felt sorry for whoever it was.

  He reached into the refrigerator, pulled out a beer, popped the cap off with his thumb, and took a long swallow.

  “Do you have anything to clean up that cut?”

  He jerked his head toward the small hallway. “There’s stuff in the bathroom. Don’t worry, though. I’ve been hurt worse than this.”

  She laid her hand on his arm. “Please, let me help you.”

  He stared at the bottle in his hand. “I haven’t been very kind to you, have I?” He turned to her and smiled. “All right, if it’ll make you feel better, you can play doctor.”

  Once in the bathroom, she grabbed the items she needed to clean up his face, then she felt the familiar nudging of a telepathic contact. “What is it, Rena?”

  “I read your distress earlier. You okay?”

  “Hunky dory.” She couldn’t stop herself from sighing. “You worry too much. Taylor had a little mishap, that’s all. I’m going to make sure he’s okay then I’ll be home.”

  “Okay,” Rena answered slowly. “Take care.”

  “All the time.”

  She returned to the living room, slowing when she heard him shouting at someone on the phone.

  “I don’t care how you do it. Get him off my back.” He paused. “No, I don’t know who issued it. If I took the time to do that, it’d be a death warrant, not just an arrest warrant.” Another pause. “I don’t care who authorized it. Bloody hell, Amy, just do it!”

  He banged the phone down back in its cradle and turned, seeing Misty standing behind him. “Don’t ask.”

  “Sit on the couch, and I’ll get you cleaned up,” she said, ignoring the hardness in his voice.

  He sat on the edge, his body stiff and unyielding. “Get it over with. I’ve got people to see.”

  “You’ll have to take off your eye-patch,” she said slowly.

  He ripped it off and threw it across the room. She inhaled sharply at the solid white orb sitting where his eye should’ve been. It wasn’t glass or any other material she’d ever seen. It looked unnatural, like painted metal.

  “Just go home. I knew you couldn’t take it.” He sneered.

  She poked him hard in the chest. “That’s it! All I’m trying to do is help, and you make me feel like I’m torturing you. I was a little surprised, that’s all. Now sit there, shut up, and let me work.”

  His eyes widened then he chuckled. “Yes, ma’am. Do what you have to, and I promise to behave.”

  “You’re still not going to tell me what’s going on, are you?” Misty dabbed at the cut.

  “I can’t. It’s for your own protection.” He paused, looking like he wanted to say something else, but stopped. “The less you know, the better off you’ll be.”

  She watched the peroxide bubble. “One day I want the whole story,” she said smearing on a light coating of antibiotic ointment.

  He caught her hands. “The day you find everything out, I won’t be around to explain.”

  The tube fell from her fingers as he held her hands. He pulled her closer, and she went willingly, dropping to her knees in front of him. She gazed in his eyes as he ran his hand up her arm, stopping at her neck. She leaned closer, and his hand moved down, brushing her breast. She jumped.

  “Why did you come along now?” he whispered, his lips just inches from hers.

  “What do you mean?” She laid her hands on his thighs, slowly moving them up to his waist.

  “Nothing.” He leaned closer, his eyes closing as he captured her mouth with his, sighing when she opened hers to allow him to take everything she had to give.

  He lifted her up to straddle his lap, pulling her shirt from her pants. He ran his hands along her bare skin, placing a small kiss above the opening of her shirt, then his thumbs rubbed back and forth over her breasts, teasing her into excitement. He kissed the valley between her breasts as his hands covered them taking her breath away.

  She ran her hands through his hair, wanting to hold his head right there. Her body burned for him, and she almost cried when he pulled away, setting her on her feet.

  “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, walking to the kitchen. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  Heat rose to her cheeks, and she looked down at the floor, not sure what she should say.

  He turned. “The longer you’re with me, the more danger you’re in.”

  Misty frowned, wishing she understood him. “I’d better go,” she said, grabbing her blazer. Digging a receipt out of her purse, she wrote her phone number on the back and laid it on the desk by the door. “If you want to talk, call me.”

  He drank some of the beer he’d opened. “Misty,” he called. She stopped, her hand on the doorknob. He pulled her into his arms, kissing her hard, his tongue delving into her mouth. “Thank you.”

  The taste of the bitter brew lingered there, and she trembled as he held her. “You’re welcome,” she said, struggling to get her breath back. He slowly released her, and she headed to her car on rubbery legs.

  Chapter Six

  Misty went straight to Rena’s room the minute she walked in the door. She flopped in her friend’s large round wicker chair, crossing her legs under her as she stared out the window. She glanced at Rena, stretched out on her bed.

  “It was so weird,” Misty finally said. “I’ve never seen a person go through so many mood swings in that short a time in my life. He’s so complicated.” She waggled her fingers at her friend. “A mystery that begs to be solved,” she added in a melodramatic tone.

  Rena rolled her eyes. “By you, no doubt. He’s dangerous. If ULTRA’s after him, he’s done something heinous.” She sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. “Start using your head and stop using your emotions. Do some investigating. I bet you find something.”

  Misty got up to pace. “Are you jealous? No, don’t answer that. Besides, who’s been helping you learn to control your powers? And do I have to list all the times I’ve gotten myself out of trouble?”

  “And into trouble,” Rena mumbled.

  “That’s not the point,” Misty said quickly, dismissing the statement with a wave of her hand. “ULTRA was wrong about you. Your sister forced you into crime, and you’ve done a lot to make up for your past.”

  Rena squeezed her eyes shut then slowly opened them as she pushed herself to her feet. “They weren’t wrong. They gave me a reduced sentence because I gave them information, and Kristin vouched for me. I did my
time.” She crossed the room and grabbed Misty’s arm. “If he’s this escaped agent, how do you know he didn’t plan meeting you? You could be next on his hit list, and you’re too blinded by him to even allow that possibility!”

  Misty yanked her arm from Rena’s hand. “I think you lived with your psycho sister too long. You’re seeing plots where there aren’t any. Grow up!”

  She stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her, but Rena’s words stayed with her. Even though she didn’t want to admit it, her friend made some valid points. There was definitely something off about Taylor Tremain.

  ****

  Jack heard footsteps approach even before whoever it was knocked. He pulled his gun and stood at the side of the door. “Who is it?”

  “It’s Frank,” came the muffled reply. “Open up. Amy found some information we thought you could use.”

  He breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for his friend’s ability to find him no matter where he ended up. He threw the deadbolt but waited until he saw Frank’s face before putting the gun away. “Come on in.”

  Frank ducked in, shutting the door and shooting the deadbolt home. He frowned, eyeing the long cut on Jack’s face. “What the hell happened to you?”

  “Cyber-X. He got a lucky strike on me.” He headed to the kitchen, Frank right on his heels.

  “Who cleaned you up? I know you wouldn’t go to a hospital and you aren’t that neat, so give. Who’s the professional?”

  Jack wouldn’t look at him as he reached in the refrigerator for two bottles. “Misty. Now do you have something for me or not?”

  Frank clapped a hand over his eyes. “I don’t believe what I just heard. Why’d you bring her here? What if he followed you?”

  Jack sighed, too tired to even get angry. “Lay off. I’ve had a bad night and really, I don’t need to be lectured. She offered to help, so what could I say? Thanks, but I can clean up my own blood? That’d be like you telling Amy no.”

  Frank threw his hands up. “Fine.” He sat on the couch and waited while Jack settled himself in the chair across from him. “Amy found out the conspiracy you uncovered went deeper than we thought. Your information barely scratched the surface. There was an inner circle no one knew about, not even the agents we pinpointed.”

  “Fenmore knew. He’s an ass kisser from way back. He’d have to have known. He’s probably still part of it.”

  Frank nodded, taking a drink. “I’m betting the whole thing is still in operation.”

  “And with Fenmore getting tight with Commander Frailer, he’d be able to warn them if the clean ULTRA was getting close.” Jack stared at Frank, not really seeing him as he thought about this news. “It’s come down to all or nothing this time.”

  Frank breathed deep. “I know. Maybe you should lay low for a while. ULTRA’s got your face plastered all over the news. Add in Cyber-X, and you’ve got problems.”

  Jack gave his friend a slight smile. “When have I ever played it safe? This time, though, I think you’re right. I don’t know what I’ll tell Misty. She heard part of my conversation with Amy, and I get the feeling she’s not going to let it go. I’ll call her tomorrow and tell her I’m going out of town.” He ran his hands through his hair. “I wish people would leave me alone.”

  Frank walked to the door. “You’ll be here all night?”

  “I think it’d be a good idea to keep out of sight for the rest of tonight.” He shook Frank’s hand before looking out the peephole to make sure no one was there. “I’ll probably sleep in tomorrow. I’ll call you when I get to the warehouse. If Misty can’t find me, maybe she’ll believe I’ve left.”

  Frank turned the deadbolt and grinned at his friend. “Do you realize how much you talk about her? That’s a bad sign. It usually means something permanent is looming in the future.”

  Jack rubbed his eyes, then pushed Frank out the door. “Go home. I don’t need this tonight.”

  “Good night.” Frank walked down the hallway reciting an old childhood rhyme. “Jack and Misty sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g...”

  Jack shook his head and closed the door. “I’ll kill you tomorrow.”

  He collapsed on the couch, rolling his shoulders to relieve the tension. Misty was different from women he’d met in the past and yet, so like Carol. His wife hadn’t put up with his temper either and had given him hell about it on more than one occasion. She’d probably tell him to go for it. He smiled. She would’ve liked Misty. She wouldn’t have wanted him to mourn her for so long.

  He liked the way Misty felt in his arms and the light perfume she wore. He even liked her clothes and found himself wondering what she’d look like without them. “It’s got to be lust, pure and simple,” he muttered, finishing off the beer. Admitting anything else would be suicide.

  He banged the bottle on the coffee table. “I need a shower.” He pushed himself to his feet. “Yeah, a shower.”

  He stripped off his clothes as he trudged down the hall. He stepped into the shower stall and turned on the hot water, letting it flow over him until it was too hot to endure. He slowly added cold water until it made the temperature hot but tolerable.

  Bracing his hands against the wall, he lowered his head. He stood there, letting the water pummel him. He pictured Misty’s delicate hands working the knots out of his neck and back. He could see her there, her hair plastered to her back as droplets slid down her cheeks, her throat, and her breasts.

  Anger, hot and familiar, churned in his gut and he embraced it. He hated himself for wanting her and was angry at her for bringing back emotions and needs long buried. He snapped off the water, stepping out onto the small rug. Picking up the bottle of antiseptic she’d used to clean him up, he stared at it, remembering her light touch on his face, the way her skin felt beneath his hands.

  Jack hurled it at the bathroom door, shattering the brown, plastic bottle into a thousand fragments.

  “Damn you, woman, get out of my mind!”

  Liquid ran down the door in rivulets, dripping into an expanding puddle on the floor.

  ****

  Jack woke at midmorning, taking a quick shower. He avoided looking at the shards on the floor as he finished getting ready, stepping over them as he went to the bedroom to get dressed.

  In the kitchen, he grabbed a box of cereal and ate it dry. He sat on the couch, staring at the phone, before snatching it off the charger and dialing Misty’s number.

  “It’s Taylor,” he said. “Can I see you today?” He grimaced as soon as the words left his mouth. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see her, it’d just be safer if he kept it to a phone call. You blew that one, hero.

  Misty’s voice trembled. “Of course. What time?”

  “I can be there in about thirty minutes,” he said, staring at the clock.

  “I’ll be ready. See you then.”

  He sat the phone back on the charger. She sounded eager, disappointing the small part of him hoping she’d be mad at him for his behavior the previous evening. He should stop seeing her because his day-to-day survival was so uncertain. He shook his head, knowing he wouldn’t win this argument against himself. “Like telling Amy no,” he murmured.

  He called a cab, blinking as he stepped outside into the bright sunlight. After he picked up his car, he’d take her some place quiet where they could talk.

  “Damn,” he muttered. “This is getting way too complicated.”

  ****

  After hanging up the phone, Misty raced upstairs to change. She’d been thinking about him all morning, wondering if he’d ever call her again. “I just need to get to know him better,” she murmured. Except for the mood swings, Taylor was really quite normal.

  “So are most serial killers,” Rena said behind her. “Your thoughts were way too obvious, even if I wasn’t a telepath. He just called?”

  Misty turned her back to her. “I’m not talking to you until you give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, ULTRA has been wrong before, why not now?”

&nbs
p; “Fine.”

  “Good,” Misty said smiling. “Then you’ll see he’s not what you think.”

  Rena frowned. “I hope you’re right.”

  “He’s coming to pick me up soon,” she said. “Why don’t you come down and meet him?”

  “I think I will. I want to see your man of mystery up close.”

  She stabbed her finger at her. “And Rena, no mind scan, no telepathy, no powers at all. Understand?”

  “Perfectly. Afraid of what I’ll find?”

  Misty just glared and walked out of the room.

  “He’d better be worth all this aggravation,” Rena grumbled as she followed her friend.

  Chapter Seven

  Jack studied the butler who answered the door. The man looked more like a bodyguard. He was short and squat, but the look in his eyes said it all. He was there to keep out the riff raff.

  “I’m Taylor,” he said. “I’m here to see Misty.”

  He hesitated before standing to the side and letting him in. “I’ve been informed you’d be arriving. I’ll let Ms. Severin know you’re here.”

  “Thanks.”

  He was led through the large foyer to the living room. It looked like this was where the inhabitants of the large house spent most of their time. Newspapers, a few soda cans, and other items were left in disarray around the room. There were several DVD cases laying on the coffee table, all popular romances. He smiled, realizing why there were tissue boxes at strategic locations around the room.

  Jack walked around the room, trying to get a feel for the people who lived there. It looked like any ordinary family room. Pictures lined the mantel over a small fireplace and he studied them. Misty was in a couple with six other women, each of whom was beautiful in her own right. Someone behind him cleared their throat, and he turned, relieved to see Misty standing there with a breathtaking redhead.

  “I’d like you to meet Rena. She was the one at the restaurant the day you and I met. Rena, this is Taylor.” Misty stood back, watching both of them intently.

  He couldn’t help staring at Rena. She was extraordinarily beautiful. He couldn’t tell how old she was, but then, who cared with all that thick red hair, cascading down her back like a fiery waterfall or when he looked in those midnight blue eyes. Her jeans and T-shirt covered her completely, but he felt he could see every line, every curve of that perfect body. He almost missed the thin gold headband around her forehead.