The Acceptance Page 12

  Except that . . . “Luther, I wonder if it’s the same boy.”

  He looked relieved for some sound logic instead of psychogenic phenomenon. “The same kid you were chasing when I found you again?”

  “Could be.”

  “I guess that depends on why you were chasing him, doesn’t it?”

  Allowing Bliss to retain her death hold on her hand, Gaby settled more comfortably on the side of the bed. “I sensed he was up to something. That’s all.”

  “Murder? Torture?” Luther scoffed. “You sensed he was up to that?”

  “If I had, he wouldn’t have gotten away from me.” In no mood for Luther’s lack of faith, Gaby smoothed back Bliss’s hair. “I’m going to take you to Morty’s for a while. You’ll be safe there, and it’s not too far away, so I can visit you whenever you want me to. What do you think of that?”

  Bliss said nothing.

  She’d fallen back to sleep, her hand still clutching Gaby’s.

  “It’s a strange coincidence,” Luther said, thinking aloud as he paced the small room. “For you to be after a boy, and for a boy to be after Bliss.”

  “Tell me about it.” Gaby only wished she had a sound connection to share. But she didn’t.

  Was it the same kid? She wasn’t sure. But she didn’t believe in coincidence.

  Luther rounded the bed to stand in front of her. “Where did you know him from?”

  “I didn’t. Until that day, I’d never laid eyes on him before.”

  Hands on his hips, Luther said, “So you just saw a kid, disliked him on sight? What the hell would you have done if you’d caught him?”

  “He was where he shouldn’t be, and I didn’t like it.” She thought about that, about her intentions that day, and her dead certainty that something was wrong. “Until he ran, I’d only planned to talk to him.” Gaby loosened Bliss’s hold, then pulled the sheet up over her. “But he did run, which seems real suspicious if you ask me.”

  “Me, too.” He nodded toward Bliss. “At least now it does.”

  “I’ll know him if I ever see him again.”

  “That’s a start.”

  And a dead end. Knowing Luther wouldn’t let it go, Gaby stood without touching him, brushed Bliss’s cheek one last time, and walked out of the room. Though her hands were steady, vengeance and rage commingled inside her.

  Freed from the confines of Bliss’s room, Gaby breathed in the cool hospital air and drooped against the wall, eyes closed as she waited for Luther.

  When she heard the quiet click of the door and felt him beside her, she said, “I want to kill someone.”

  “I know.” He smoothed her hair. “Me, too.”

  He knew. Gaby looked at him. He hadn’t remonstrated with her for her bloodthirsty desire. He’d . . . commiserated.

  “You want a truth, Luther?”

  “That’d be nice.” His fingers continued to play with her hair. It was something Gaby had noticed early on, this strange fascination Luther had with her unkempt, mostly forgotten hair.

  “This is hard for me.”

  “I know. Me, too.”

  She shook her head. He didn’t get her meaning. “No. I’m not like you, Luther. I’m hardwired to react.” Fisting a hand, Gaby pressed it against her abdomen. “Here, inside me. Everything that is me is screaming for me to do something.”

  “But you don’t yet know what to do?”

  She put her head back again and squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t have a fucking clue.”

  “Me neither.” Luther’s hand left her hair and instead curved around her neck.

  His palm was hot, a little rough. Exciting.

  Lost in a vortex of extraordinary need, Gaby opened her eyes to look at him. “Sucks, huh?”

  “It’s frustrating.” He crowded into her space, big and powerful, sharing his heat, his scent. “If we’re patient, if we work together, we’ll get it figured out.”

  “Being patient means someone else could die.”

  “That’s an impasse cops face often. It takes persistence to solve a problem, but all the while, you know someone’s life could be on the line.”

  Gaby trusted that eventually she’d get the one responsible—but how many women would be hurt first? The only thing she knew with any certainty was that the bastard who’d tried to take Bliss would act again.

  And again.

  Somewhere along the way, he’d screw up and then she’d have him. God willing, that’d happen before another woman was tortured and murdered.

  “Gaby?” Luther now had both hands on her neck, his thumbs stroking along her jawline.

  How could thumbs on her chin turn her on? Maybe she was a degenerate of some sort. A sexual deviant.

  With every breath she took, her chest brushed Luther’s, heightening her strange tension.

  Her innate reactions sickened Gaby; she shouldn’t be thinking such carnal thoughts while Bliss lay drugged and frightened in a hospital bed.

  Unwilling to look him in the eyes, Gaby said, “Yeah?”

  “There’s been a lot said today that I’d like to understand.”

  She snorted. “I can imagine.” Her endogenous perception to all things evil would confuse a saint. Of course a solid citizen like Luther would be confused by it. “Shoot.”

  “What do you mean that you’re hardwired to react?”

  That got her gaze on his. He tried to look passive, when Gaby knew Luther was anything but. “Can you handle the truth?”

  In some infinitesimal way, he hardened all over. “Yes.” Gaby twisted her mouth. Maybe Luther believed that calumnious statement, but she knew better. If she gave him the whole truth, he’d be calling for the guys with the straightjacket.

  A quarter-truth would serve for now. Later, if he didn’t freak out too much, she could share more.

  Oh God, what was she thinking?

  “Don’t think,” he said, as if he’d read her mind. “Just open up to me.”

  “You asked for it.” Slipping her fingers through his belt loops, Gaby urged him closer. Feeling Luther, being with him, filled her with copious emotion and turned his aura effulgent. She liked that.

  Watching him, Gaby nudged her pelvis into his hips— and saw the slight tightening of his facial muscles, felt the quickening of his pulse.

  No time like the present. “When evil is near, I know it.”

  Jerked from her deliberate enticement, Luther studied her face, nodded. “Explain evil.”

  “Why? You know evil, Luther. You’ve dealt with it plenty of times.”

  “I want to hear your definition.”

  “Fine. There are bad people, and then there are true corruptions passing themselves off as humans. They don’t deserve to breathe the same air as others. They don’t merit rehabilitation, or a life in prison, or even an easy death.”

  Some of the erotic energy flowing through his aura began to fade. His hold now felt more restraining than tender, his fingertips pressing into her nape.

  Gaby defied him with a look. “What’s the matter, cop? Too much for you?”

  Challenged, Luther held silent for a heartbeat, then he relented. “Yes, I’ve known evil like that. It’s a sad hazard of my profession.”

  Poor Luther. He wanted so badly to accept her, that he tried to find correlations in their lives and attitudes. “Did you know that evil as soon as you saw it?”

  Distant memories passed over his features. “On occasion. Most often, no.” His eyes narrowed. “People can be deceiving.”

  Not to paladins. Not to freaks like her. “They don’t deceive me, Luther.” Just to keep him off balance, Gaby lifted to her tiptoes and kissed his mouth hard and fast. “Ever.”

  Wary now, Luther set her away from him. “And when you recognize evil, what do you do about it?”

  “Me?” Leaving him no illusion as to her facetiousness, Gaby said, “But Luther, I’m just a woman. Whatever could I do?”

  Rather than take the bait, Luther dragged her back to him and this time t
he kiss was slow and deep, scorching hot, mesmerizing.

  Claiming.

  Gaby thought about struggling . . . but what the hell?

  She needed this.

  She needed more. Of him.

  Little by little, she understood that sexual need caused at least part of her frustration, sleeplessness, and fractious demeanor.

  For Luther.

  When he ended the kiss, Luther also ended all contact. He released Gaby, stepped back two paces, and watched her.

  Collapsing against the wall, Gaby touched her now swollen and tingling lips.

  And sighed.

  Maybe sharing with Luther wasn’t so unthinkable. Maybe, just maybe, she could ease him into the abomination of her life.

  “Wow. I’m starting to like that more and more.”

  He didn’t smile. “When Bliss said that she knew you’d be there, what exactly did she mean?”

  With sexual awareness coursing like hot lava through her veins, Gaby watched Luther with new eyes. “You’d have to ask her.”

  He tried a different tack. “What do you think she meant?”

  Oh no. Not so soon. It was time to get out from under Luther’s spell.

  Willing strength into her bones, Gaby pushed away from the wall. “Bliss was drugged, disoriented.” Gaby turned and started down the long corridor. “Who knows what she might’ve meant? Maybe she said that just because . . . I’m a friend.”

  “And her description of the room?”

  “She fantasized it because of her fear. For her, that’d be the worst to happen, so in her mind, she knew it would happen.”

  “You believe that?”

  No. She believed Bliss. “Maybe.” In only a few steps, Gaby decided, What the hell? He wanted to know more, so she’d tell him more. “I do believe in mind reading, though I’m not a mind reader myself.”

  Rather than doubt her, Luther nodded. “How does it work?”

  “I’ve never really studied it, so I’m not sure. But I do know that people have auras, and a lot is revealed through an aura.”

  “You’ve mentioned auras before.”

  Gaby peered up at him. “Right now, your aura is a muddy shade of violet. Want to know what that means?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  “Violet usually represents the ability to handle affairs with practicality. But that darker shade is pure erotic imagination.” Gaby tilted her head at him. “You’re asking about Bliss, but your thoughts are divided.”

  “Guilty.” Not the least bit ashamed or hesitant, Luther said, “I always want you. I’ve told you that. But now’s not the time, so back to Bliss . . .”

  Wow. He did know how to keep her off-kilter. “My theory is that fear naturally heightens sensory perception, so even someone unfamiliar with reading auras could pick up on them when scared witless. Bliss said the woman who took her giggled. That sounds pretty fucking sick to me, so I figure she was giving off some glaring vibes on her intent.”

  “And the room?”

  “If there is a room, and the demented bitch was thinking about taking Bliss there, she might have picked up on that.”

  He chewed his upper lip before saying, “Okay, I can buy that, I suppose.”

  “Yeah, right. People like you are the reason that the abstract prospects of the human mind and the intangible realm behind matter are treated as hocus-pocus.”

  Luther whistled. “All that, huh?”

  Her temper sparked. “Don’t poke fun at me, Luther.”

  “Actually, I was thinking there are many depths to you. Some of them are a little loony, but somehow you make it all sound reasonable, and believable.”

  She stayed silent, but Gaby felt the nearly tactile sensation of his narrow-eyed attention on her face.

  “So, let’s try this another way.”

  Oh shit. Why couldn’t he just give it up?

  “How did you know Bliss was in trouble?”

  Gaby’s heart tripped. She walked faster, harder. Questions on Bliss she could handle. Questions on her own preternatural acuity were hitting too close to home. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “When she was being attacked, somehow you knew it.” Stewing over his own memories, Luther thought it out without Gaby’s help. “You couldn’t see her, and you couldn’t hear her. But somehow you knew what was happening all the same. And that isn’t the first time it’s happened with you.”

  “Don’t be—”

  “We were talking,” Luther reminded her, “then you suddenly went on alert. I saw it in your face that something was wrong. I didn’t know what—but you did.”

  Gaby kept walking.

  Luther kept pace with her. “At first, your movements were a little jerky, as if you hurt all over. But then you were facile, and so fast, I could barely keep up.”

  “You’re a slowpoke wimp, what can I say?”

  “No, Gaby. I’m in good shape, and you know it. My legs are longer and stronger than yours. I have more power. But you outran me.”

  Gaby snorted. “If this is about wounded ego, Luther, I don’t have time.”

  “It’s about you, Gaby.”

  “A boring subject.”

  But Luther wouldn’t let it go. “You somehow knew Bliss was being threatened, didn’t you?”

  No, no, no. “No.”

  Luther snagged her arm and they both stopped.

  “Tell me another truth, Gaby. Did you know that evil had her?”

  Chapter 8

  Tonight, one way or another, Luther knew he had to get some answers. Women’s lives were on the line, and somehow Gaby was involved.

  He didn’t know how, but he knew he had to keep her safe—whether she wanted his help or not.

  Gaby kept her back to him, but she paused.

  Luther didn’t push her. He just waited, and after a moment of visibly churning thoughts, she said, “I’ve heard that most cops have intuition. Do you?”

  It wasn’t what he’d expected, but the answer was easy enough. “Sometimes.”

  Rubbing the back of her neck and flexing her shoulders, Gaby considered his response. “Sometimes, huh?”

  “It’s not the same as what you’re saying, Gaby. I get a bad feeling, but I don’t see things clearly. They aren’t spelled out for me.”

  “No, of course not.” Glancing over her shoulder at him, Gaby said, “But do you get that kick in your gut, that churning sensation in your blood when you just know something is wrong?”

  Damn it, he did. But not the way it seemed she had.

  Her light blue eyes pinned him. “Do you trust your instincts?”

  No need to hesitate on that one. “Yes.” Luther had never ignored his own instincts. They were sharper than most, which is why he made a damn good cop.

  His instincts insisted that Gaby was up to something. If only he knew what.

  “Well, so do I,” she told him. “You want the truth, Luther? Fine. I knew something was wrong.” She emphasized, “Something . Not that it involved Bliss, and not what it might be.”

  Luther could usually spot a liar, but with Gaby . . . he just didn’t know. She appeared truthful, sincere.

  Believable.

  A small part of his subconscious insisted that the mentally insane often used sound logic as well.

  No. He wouldn’t think that. Gaby was, despite her upbringing and lack of formal education, more intelligent and lucid than almost anyone he knew. It was her astute perception of her surroundings that colored everything.

  “My stomach cramped and my muscles burned and everything that’s a part of me screamed that I had to hurry.” Gaby didn’t blink. “So I did.”

  What she described matched the way she’d looked. And that scared him. For her. “Does that happen to you often?”

  “Often enough that I hate it.” She started walking again, but the burst of energy was gone, leaving her to plod along tiredly. “But not often enough for me to make a real difference in anything.”

  What the hell did that mean? Why w
ould Gaby, an orphan, an eccentric loner, want to make a difference to the society she so openly scorned?

  Seeing the droop to her normally proud shoulders, Luther decided not to ask her, not right now. He’d pushed enough for one night. Although he knew she’d deny it, she looked exhausted enough to keel over.

  “We both need sleep.” Luther slipped an arm around her supple waist. “Come on. Stewing over this won’t help Bliss. The hospital staff will keep her safe tonight, and tomorrow, we’ll come back to see her to Mort’s together. She’ll be fine.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  Gaby said nothing on the way out of the hospital. That worried Luther. He was used to her mouthy ways, her caustic wit, and her never-ending harassment.

  She was likely plotting, maybe not against him, specifically, but for certain she wasn’t including him, as per their agreement.

  “Listen up, Gaby.” When she turned tired eyes toward him, Luther almost softened. Only the need to know she’d be unharmed kept him from retrenching. “I’m going to drop you off at your apartment, and I damn well expect you to stay there.”

  She looked away. “I don’t have any plans to leave.”

  “Then how about making plans to stay?”

  She shrugged. “I watch over the women, Luther. Some of them work throughout the night. If something happens—”

  “You’d know it?”

  “Maybe. But not necessarily.”

  Luther still wasn’t sure about her supposed exceptional intuition, but he wouldn’t discount it. Throughout his career as a cop, he’d seen a lot of inexplicable things, and too many times his instincts had saved his ass. If Gaby had those same instincts, only amplified to an extreme level, then that would explain a lot.

  And maybe he was just grasping at straws, wanting to trust her, to believe in her, in any way possible.

  While heading across the parking lot, she moved closer. Her hand bumped Luther’s, so he laced his fingers with hers.

  The lot was quiet, dark. A fat silvery moon was poised low in the sky, surrounded by a million illumined stars.

  It could have been a romantic night. From Luther’s perspective, any time alone with Gaby lent itself to sexual thoughts tempered by emotional need.