Hear No (Hidden Evil, #1) Page 10

  “You’re in no shape to drive,” Nathan said. “The guestroom is occupied by my roommate. You can have my bed. We’ll finish talking in the morning.”

  “No, I’m okay.”

  “Right.” He bent and scooped her up, lifting her easily. He smelled so good, of man, cigar and spice.

  Kaylee didn’t object. He carried her up another set of stairs and down a dark hallway. He set her down just inside the door of a room and leaned forward to turn on the light. Light flooded the room. The bed was made, the bedroom’s décor mirroring that of the living room.

  “Bathroom down the hallway,” he said, pointing. “You’re welcome to dig out a t-shirt from my dresser.”

  She focused on balancing herself, uncertain if she wanted to throw up or pass out.

  “I’ll be on the couch, unless you want company,” he said, steadying her with his hot hands.

  “Do I look easy or desperate?” she demanded, throwing her head back to glare at him.

  “Truthfully?”

  She swiped his hands away then pushed him towards the door.

  Nathan went, smiling. “You know where I’ll be if you change your mind again.”

  She slammed the door on him then crossed to the bed, dropping onto it. It took all her focus to shove her shoes off. When they were gone, she fell back and wriggled her way under the covers. With her meds and alcohol combined, she was sleeping within seconds.

  Chapter Eleven

  The glimmer of moonstones along the windowsill caught her attention. Morning light was peeking between curtains and making the line of stones glow.

  Kaylee squinted at the colorful stones, unable to recall when she put them on her sill. She pushed herself up and looked around.

  Her head hurt. Bad. Gripping it, she blinked away the last of her sleep.

  Nathan’s room. It was quiet and large with a small sitting area on one side and simple, dark furniture. Moonstones were everywhere in his room, from the dresser to all the windowsills to the top of the doorframe. While pretty, she couldn’t help thinking the massive quantities of small stones was bizarre.

  She felt gross. Kaylee rubbed her face and then glanced at the alarm clock beside the bed. It was way past the time when she was supposed to be at work. She felt a small twinge of guilt, until she thought of Mike stressing out trying to find her.

  He deserves it.

  Assuming he showed up. She glanced down at herself, irritated to find she’d slept in her clothes. Not only that, but she’d slept on the pocket with her keys, and her right thigh hurt. Her mouth was gummy, her head pounding.

  Kaylee left the bedroom silently for the bathroom in the hallway. She found herself pausing to feel for Shadowman; he wasn’t there. Relieved, she listened for the signs of anyone else being awake. While she smelled breakfast cooking from the floor below, she didn’t see anyone on this floor.

  Down the opposite hall, she thought she heard someone moving around in another bedroom. Vaguely, she recalled that Nathan claimed to have a roommate, so she ignored the sound and hurried to the bathroom, wanting to straighten up and get out as fast as possible.

  She automatically reached for the pocket where she kept her phone, only to find it wasn’t there. Irked, she rinsed her face and mouth then paused, attention falling to the huge Jacuzzi tub at one end of the luxurious bathroom.

  She had no bathtub in her place, just the shower. The thought of a bath sounded like a heavenly solution for her pounding head and sluggish body. Debating for a moment, she finally decided that he owed her a hot bath if nothing else for dragging her across town to bail him out of jail.

  She carefully avoided the thought that she was the one who put him there.

  After locking the door, Kaylee drew a bath and stripped. She hissed as she stepped into the hot water and was soon fully immersed. The aches in her body eased, along with the tension between her shoulders and in her neck.

  Kaylee didn’t rush her bath but enjoyed it, nearly dozing at one point. She thought she heard the door creak open and roused herself. She assumed it was the hallway creaking.

  No other sounds came, and she grudgingly got up and stretched for a fluffy towel. She turned finally and froze. The door was cracked open, and a woman stood, hiding behind the small wardrobe acting as a linen closet.

  She gasped.

  It was Amira Santiago, the missing witness. She held a butcher knife in one hand and a cross in the other. Apprehension and uncertainty crossed her chiseled features.

  Recalling their first interaction, Kaylee had no doubt why the girl was there.

  She screamed.

  Amira lunged forward, knife raised. She slipped on the wet tile from Kaylee’s bath and landed on her knees, her first strike scratching Kaylee’s arm.

  Kaylee shoved her and stumbled out of the bathtub. She wrapped her towel around her as she darted to the door. Amira was quick and close at her heels.

  Yanking it shut, Kaylee leaned back with all her weight to prevent the girl from opening it.

  “Jesus!” Nathan said, coming into sight from the direction of the stairwell. “What’s wrong?” He was dressed in dark chinos and a polo.

  “She’s here! That psycho followed me somehow!” Kaylee shouted.

  Amira pulled at the door then pounded on it.

  “What?” Nathan sounded startled.

  “The … other day, I went with Mike to Rosewood … “ Kaylee grunted, struggling to keep the door closed. “I got stabbed by this crazy deaf girl who … disappeared.”

  Nathan was staring at her. “That was you?”

  “What was me?” she asked, glancing at him. “She’s here, Nathan! She followed me and is trying to kill me.” Her heart felt like it was ready to leap out of her chest.

  How had Amira found her? How did she get into the apartment?

  Why was Nathan looking at her like that?

  “I’ll handle it,” he said, stepping forward.

  “No, Nathan! You can’t let her out!”

  “No one is going to kill you, especially not when I’m around,” he assured her. He moved between her and the door.

  Scared, Kaylee let go and backpedaled until her back hit the wall. Ready to run, her eyes stayed on Nathan. His light touch and confident words were too reassuring to think he was going to free some serial killer to get her.

  The door wrenched open.

  Kaylee didn’t have time to react, but Nathan did. Deftly, he deflected a blow that should’ve taken out his eye. It sailed by his head, and he whirled the attacker, disarming her with agility unlike any Kaylee had ever seen. In a matter of seconds, Amira was wrapped in his arms, defeated.

  Nathan sighed and spun the girl. He gripped her arms.

  “Go to your room,” he ordered her.

  She glanced at Kaylee, eyes wide.

  “Now,” he added.

  Amira spun and ran through the apartment to the hallway on the far side, where the guest rooms were.

  Kaylee watched her, unable to digest what was going on.

  Nathan tossed the knife onto the bathroom cabinet then faced her.

  “Love that look on you,” he said, looking her over.

  Her face grew warm. She clutched the towel around her.

  “You know her?’ she asked, confused. “She’s staying here?”

  “You’re not ready for those answers, Kaylee,” he said. “You’re bleeding.”

  She glanced down at the streak of red on her arm. The relaxing effects of the bath were completely gone.

  Nathan neared, bringing with him the intensity of his presence, its unusual heat and his supple strength. He was close enough for their bodies to touch. She found herself letting him draw her into him. His movements were too sure, too possessive and instinctive. She didn’t know what to think of the way he seemed to think he could touch her whenever he wanted. He smelled like he’d been smoking a cigar. Its rich, slightly sweet scent clung to him.

  He rested a hand on her wound. Familiar heat coursed through her a
nd ratcheted up the pain.

  “Ouch!” she muttered, pulling at her arm.

  “Easy, sweetheart.”

  Kaylee froze. The same strange hot pain, the same words.

  Amira.

  That was you?

  “My god,” she whispered. “Don’t touch me!” She slapped his hand and moved away. “You’re the man from the elevator. The one who kidnapped Amira!”

  “About that,” Nathan said.

  “That’s your game? You’re trying to get to the information Mike has on the case?” she demanded, furious.

  Kaylee went into the bathroom, where all her things were. She slammed the door closed behind her.

  Was she that stupid? She let him convince her he knew something about what she was going through? Maybe she told him about Shadowman in the elevator, and he used that to lure her into his apartment, so he could get better access to Mike and the case.

  “Kaylee, don’t make this worse than it already is.”

  She ignored him and dressed hastily, her calm gone.

  “You came here to talk,” Nathan reminded her.

  She whipped the door open, glaring up at him. Too angry to speak, she pushed him out of her way and strode to the stairs. She jogged down two floors to the garage door.

  “Shit. C’mon, Kaylee, we really do need to talk,” Nathan said. He took her arm.

  She yanked away. “Get away from me, Nathan!” Kaylee opened the door leading into the hallway. “If you come anywhere near me, I’ll call the police. And I won’t bail you out this time!”

  She didn’t look back and raced to her car, afraid a knife wielding Amira would attack her. There were tears in her eyes, and she didn’t know why. For the few hours she was with Nathan, she didn’t feel scared or lost. That feeling left when she drove away from him.

  She was alone again to deal with the mess and no closer to understanding what was going on.

  Her thoughts went to Mike. What the hell was he involved in and how had he managed to drag her into it?

  Feeling alone and hurt, Kaylee drove all the way home to change for work.

  Shadowman was waiting for her, his oppressiveness driving her to tears as soon as she walked into her apartment.

  The only person who could help her figure out what to do was involved in something she instinctively knew wasn’t good. Kidnapping? Supernatural creatures?

  Who was Nathan Smith really?

  Chapter Twelve

  It wasn’t like him to feel helpless or uncertain what to do, but he did. Nathan stood in place long after Kaylee had left the driveway.

  “Amira!” He heard the quiet teen creep down the stairs behind him. She didn’t hear his yell, but she sensed him coming.

  With a gasp, Amira whirled and ran up the stairs.

  Nathan chased her, stretching his arm to block the doorway to her room, where she was headed. She looked scared, her blue eyes wide and her aura flaring with multiple colors.

  He took a deep breath. “First, are you okay?” he asked.

  Her gaze dropped to his mouth. She nodded.

  “Second, what the fuck is going on?”

  She squirmed.

  Nathan took her other arm to hold her still. For a moment, he thought the sweetest girl on the planet was about to defy him the same way Kaylee had. She had a pocketknife clenched in her fist.

  Nathan worked it free and tossed it.

  “Shadowman,” Amira said and shivered, as if the name alone scared her.

  “He can’t come here,” he reminded her. “We have enough moonstones to keep the devil himself away.”

  “That girl,” Amira said. “She brought Shadowman to the Center. He knew I was there. He knows I’m here.” Tears filled her eyes. “Nate, I have to go!”

  “What possessed you to try to kill her?” he asked. “Don’t cry, okay? Focus.”

  Amira nodded and swallowed hard then answered. “To get rid of Shadowman.”

  “Amira, we have to find Shadowman’s host. His name is Mike.”

  “No!” Amira cried. “She is his host.”

  Nathan frowned. They never considered the idea that Shadowman was anchored by anyone other than Mike. It felt like an oversight, except that no part of him wanted to believe innocent Kaylee of being the host for the demon. Mike made sense. By all accounts, he was a lying, cheating scumbag who probably left a few skeletons in his past. Mike was the kind of person a demon clung to.

  “Nate, I would never, ever hurt a human. Ever. But he has to be stopped,” she said solemnly. “We can’t let him get to the portal.”

  “I know, baby. I just want to handle this in a way where we don’t have to take an innocent life,” he said, releasing her.

  “Me, too,” she said. “I don’t want to hurt her. I don’t know what else to do.”

  He offered a warm smile. “First things first. Go pack. I know where to take you, so Shadowman can’t get you.”

  Amira studied him for a moment then went.

  Disturbed, Nathan waited in the hallway, not trusting the first gen not to bolt. He whipped out his phone to call Maggy.

  “Hey,” he said when she answered. “I think we got a problem.”

  “Yeah, bigger than you know,” she replied.

  “What?”

  “We just found Mike’s body. He’s been dead for a couple days. There’s no way he’s the host for Shadowman.”

  Nathan’s spirits sank. “Good news for you. I think I know who his host is. Not talking about it over the phone, though.”

  “I’ll be back soon.”

  “I’m taking Amira somewhere safe,” he added. “I’ll meet up with you later.”

  “Safe?” Maggy hesitated. “What’s going on, Nathan?”

  “Townhouse is compromised. I’m taking her to someone who can help.”

  “Oh, god, not Troy. He’s – ”

  “Later, babe.” He hung up.

  Troy, the man who trained Nathan, had recently retired. Or was forced to, depending on which story one believed. In either case, Nathan knew where he was and what exactly he could expect from the out-of-control spirit guide.

  Amira left her room, backpack slung over one shoulder. She looked upset and Nathan understood why. First gens knew violence and evil existed but weren’t able to commit either, because they were still able to remember how sacred humans were to the angel corps. It took a lot of courage for her to try to kill Kaylee, a sobering indication of how dangerous Shadowman was, if a first gen was willing to do the unthinkable.

  He tapped her arm to draw her attention. “We’re going across town. Tell no one where I take you, okay?”

  She nodded.

  Nathan led her to the garage, mind working quickly. Technically, Mike and Kaylee were both innocent. It was easier for him to contemplate killing a scumbag like Mike than it was a beautiful, smart woman like Kaylee. But if her death meant preventing Shadowman from opening the portal to Hell, wasn’t it worth doing?

  There was a time when he might not think twice about killing anyone.

  That was a long time ago, he told himself.

  He put the key in the ignition and paused. Odd. He hadn’t thought of the incident that made him accept the position as a spirit guide in a while. It seemed too long ago to matter, and yet, he found himself thinking of it again. Thinking of her again, the woman he’d married and lost three thousand years ago. She and Kaylee had some similar features. Both women had dark blonde curls and blue eyes. Both were Pisces.

  Both made his blood burn in a way that was more intense than channeling energy from the Other Side.

  “Nate, we have to go!” Amira urged.

  He shook his head to clear his thoughts then started the car. He pulled out of the driveway and drove slowly through the neighborhood, until he reached 395, which cut through central DC.

  Amira was antsy and Nathan too distracted by thoughts of hurting Kaylee to speak. Had he gone that soft over the years? Or was there something more about her that was bothering him? Was it pos
sible to feel something beyond attraction to someone he just met?

  Her fear of Shadowman made more sense. Some part of her knew the fallen guardian was not only connected to her but evil, or she wouldn’t have bailed out Nathan in the first place. What had the creature done to scare her? What would it do, if it thought she was trying to help Nathan get rid of it?

  Nearing his exit, he forced himself to focus on driving and merged onto the main loop around DC. Half an hour later, he left the major highways for the quiet town of Crofton, Maryland. Nathan drove a short distance down a forest lined, two-lane road before finally pulling into a driveway.

  The large, brick house tucked away from the road was in a peaceful setting, hedged by trees, with a three quarter ton pick-up truck parked out front.

  Nathan got out of the car. The bushes hugging the house needed to be trimmed and the flowers weeded.

  Amira looked at him uncertainly.

  He waved her forward and walked to the front door, opening it. As he expected, it was open. No one who met the house’s owner would cross him. Troy had never locked his doors, as long as Nathan could remember.

  “Troy!” he called. “We’re coming in.”

  No response.

  Nathan let his eyes adjust to the darkened foyer. It was tastefully decorated with antique furniture, just like the formal sitting and dining rooms that flanked the foyer. A wooden staircase ascended to the second floor. Past it was another hallway - lined with two doors - that emptied into a large kitchen.

  He listened but heard nothing. The only guardian angels in the house were crowded upstairs. Sensing them, he started up the stairs. Amira was at his heels, her aura fluttering between bright shades of worry and fear. Nathan reached the top of the stairs and strode down the hallway, following the angels.

  Troy was slung on his belly across his bed, his snoring loud enough to assure Nathan he was alive. The master bedroom was trashed and reeked of alcohol, and his former mentor wore only underwear, a t-shirt and one boot. His dark hair was bushy, the huge beard and mustache covering the lower half of his face.

  Amira made a sound of disgust.

  Nathan waved for her to wait outside the room. He considered Troy, uncertain if he should smile or be horrified by the deterioration of his mentor. Troy was still muscular and fit, even if he looked like a wild man.