Tempting the Fire Page 16

  She sighed against his chest. It felt good to be leaning on him, and though she should probably fight the feeling, she was tired, and honestly relieved to have someone to talk to.

  “Sort of,” she said. “She was dependent on people and medications in all aspects of her life. She was bipolar, so she needed medicine to keep her normal. And she was dependent on men. God, she was so dependent.”

  His hand stroked her hair gently. “What do you mean?” When Sela didn’t answer, he kissed the top of her head. “Let me help. Nothing you can tell me will shock me. Trust me.”

  Tears stung her eyes. She didn’t want to trust him. Couldn’t. And yet, she found herself desperate to confide in him in a way she’d never done with anyone. Somehow, he’d wormed his way into her heart, and if he got much deeper, she’d be in real trouble.

  But she didn’t have the energy to care right now.

  “She was a stripper. Part time anyway. She tried other jobs, stocking shelves at Wal-Mart, flipping burgers at fast-food joints, but she was a single mom, and she had to feed me. Put a roof over our heads. And she …” Sela trailed off, swallowed hard before finishing. “She sold herself for those things.”

  “She must have loved you very much.”

  Sela blinked. She’d expected disgust, or at the very least some sort of shocked response. But he almost sounded like he understood. “She did love me. I don’t judge her for what she did. It was all for me. Everything.”

  “I guess you didn’t have a very stable home life.”

  “I can’t count the number of places we lived,” she said, surprising herself with the amount of bitterness in her voice, even after all this time. “I don’t remember ever living anyplace that was ours except the times we lived in the car. Mostly, Mom shacked us up with guys she was sleeping with. Once, I tried to list all the different places I’ve lived, but I gave up at thirty.”

  His palm rubbed slow circles on her back, lulling her, comforting her. “You must have been living out of suitcases.”

  “Garbage bags. We couldn’t afford suitcases.”

  She remembered hauling around big black Hefty bags full of their belongings, which pretty much amounted to some clothes, a few photos and two or three toys. With only a few exceptions, they’d never even unpacked. Most of the guys her mother hooked up with weren’t looking for her kind of baggage—a mental disorder and a snot-nosed kid.

  “I can’t imagine how hard that must have been for you.”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t know anything else. When there’s a new ‘uncle’ in your life every week, you get numb to it. Only the ‘uncles’ who were extra-nice, mean or too touchy stuck in my mind.”

  He stiffened. “Some of them touched you?”

  “A few. But my mom taught me to take care of myself, and she didn’t leave me alone with them for long, so they never got further than a hand down my pants. A couple creeps whipped it out in front of me and tried to get me to touch them, but I managed to wiggle my way out of those situations.”

  “Sick bastards,” Logan muttered. “What did your mom do when you told her what they’d tried?”

  “She beat the shit out of them with Mr. Ruth—that was the baseball bat she took everywhere we went—and then we’d get the hell out of there.”

  “Good for her.”

  “Oh, don’t be thinking she was a saint or anything. She believed me every time I ratted out some scumbag, but she was incapable of seeing a good thing when it was right in front of her.” Logan continued the soothing strokes, and words kept spilling out. “There was one guy. Gary. He had a trailer in the middle of nowhere, but he was one of the few guys who gave me my own room to sleep in. He was nice to Mom and me, and he gave us the first real Christmas I’d ever had. With a tree and presents and everything.”

  “Sounds nice,” he murmured. “What happened?”

  Sela’s stomach growled, and she eyed the berries they hadn’t eaten last night. “Do you really want to hear all this boring crap, or do you want to eat?”

  “Both.” He stretched for the leaf-wrapped packet. “So? What happened with the nice guy and your mom?”

  Sighing, she took a small purple berry from him. “I don’t know. My mom was with him for six months, and then she left him one day while he was at work.” Sela had hated her mom for a long time after that, for ruining the one good thing that had ever happened to them. “I think she was having bipolar issues, or maybe she got scared because he loved her …”

  They’d spent the next two years with more guys than Sela could count, almost as if her mom had gotten even less picky after Gary. Sela had grown more and more bitter as time went on, more uncontrollable as she hit her teens. “I made my mom pay over and over for leaving Gary. I was a horrible teen. And then she was diagnosed with AIDS.”

  Logan took the berry uneaten from her and put it between her lips. The tender gesture tugged at her, made her heart squeeze a little. “How old were you?” he asked quietly, after she began to chew. Only then did he eat a berry himself.

  She swallowed the sweet fruit, grateful that he’d had the forethought to forage for food even as he’d sought her out last night.

  “Fourteen,” she said, taking another berry. She noticed that he waited until she’d eaten it before he ate another. “I didn’t get what it meant, and I wasn’t very understanding. I was still upset that she’d left Gary. I mean, how could she leave someone who loved her? Someone who had given her a way to get out of the life that was killing her?”

  Sela swallowed on a lump in her throat. She’d freaked out on her mom, had screamed at her, told her that the AIDS was her fault for being such a slut. “God, I was so cruel. And you know what’s so funny? I called her a whore, and then went out and did the same thing. I lost my virginity to some guy I didn’t even know.” She’d been so self-destructive, so ready to end it all. “I think I just wanted someone to love me, and after years of watching my mom fuck every dick she ever met, I figured that love and sex were the same thing, you know?”

  And then her ability had reared its ugly head, and it hadn’t been long before she discovered how awful sex was when you learned every horrible secret your partner had. Why she’d allowed Dev to talk her into being a Seducer was beyond her—no, actually, she understood why she’d let it happen. She’d been given a chance to be accepted by a big family, people who had turned their gifts into something useful. Sela didn’t regret her time as a Seducer, but she’d definitely been happier since joining the Cryptozoology team.

  “You didn’t know any better, like you said.” Logan held another berry to her lips, but she shook her head, appetite gone. Besides, he needed the nourishment more than she did. “Take it. I won’t eat unless you do.”

  “Damn you,” she whispered. He was disarming her slowly but surely, his method of breaking down her walls gentler but no less effective than a battering ram. She ate the fruit, letting him feed her until her portion was gone.

  “You haven’t forgiven yourself, have you?” he asked, thumbing juice off her lip. His fever had eased a little, but his touch still made her burn, not with sexual longing, but with rapidly growing emotion.

  “No. My mom died thinking I despised her, when nothing could be further from the truth.” She sagged against him, feeling rubbery and road-rashed from being dragged down memory lane. “This is going to sound so sappy, but I just wish she’d been able to find someone she loved before she died. I always wanted that for her.”

  “What about you?”

  “You mean, do I want love for myself?”

  “Yeah.” His voice was scratchy, as though he was uncomfortable with the subject. She certainly was.

  “More than anything,” she admitted quietly. “But I’m not cut out for it.” Not when everyone she slept with gave her nightmares with what was in their head.

  Everyone except Logan and Creed, but she shoved that thought away as fast as it had come in.

  “I’m so sorry, Sela. You went through hell and back.”
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  Warmth seeped into her chest. She shrugged nonchalantly, though she felt anything but. “Guess we all have our traumas to deal with, huh?” She peeled herself away, feeling suddenly vulnerable. She’d just shared more with him than she’d shared with anyone, ever. And now he had a lot of ammunition if he wanted to hurt her.

  He let her stand and move away, but he also pushed to his feet and stepped close. “Hey. I won’t make you regret telling me those things.”

  She paused, thinking things out before she said something stupid, like she already had. But ultimately, she was here for a job, and maybe she could foster the bonding they’d done. Her stomach turned a little at the thought, because he didn’t feel like the enemy anymore. He felt like a lover. A friend. And damn, she was an idiot.

  “I believe you,” she said softly, and strangely enough, she found herself buying her own bullshit.

  “And I trust you to keep what I told you to yourself. There are a lot of assholes who would love to get their hands on the technology I’ve got all over my body.”

  “It’ll be our secret.” Bile filled her mouth at the lie, because she’d already texted Dev about it. Silently, she swore, calling her boss the vilest names she knew for sending her here. After this mission, she was never, ever going undercover again. She really would rather wrestle the chupacabra than get close to someone she had to deceive. “Are you feeling better?” she asked, not only to change the subject, but because she was genuinely concerned.

  “I feel like shit,” he said. “But the water and sugar helped a little.” He checked his watch. “We need to get back. I need a shot before I rage out, and we could both use some real food.”

  “And a shower,” she added.

  He waggled his brows. “Together?”

  She punched him in the shoulder—his real one. “Not a chance, big boy. The camp doesn’t need a show.”

  “We’ll see.” Before she could argue, he headed toward the mouth of the cave. “Let’s go. We have showers to take, food to eat and chupacabras to catch.”

  “Logan?”

  He pivoted around. “Yeah?”

  “What happens then? After we catch the chupa?”

  He gave her a sly smile. “While the camp is celebrating, we take that shower, because everyone will be too busy to hear us.”

  He was avoiding the real question, but he sounded serious enough. And she wouldn’t mind … “That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

  His expression turned serious. “I know. But I can’t talk about that, Sela. Company business is private.”

  A blast of cold stabbed her. “You don’t trust me.” Which is smart. That thought stung as much as the fact he didn’t trust her.

  “It’s not that.” He checked the wrap on his injured arm, tightening the knot. “My company works for powerful people. Breaching their trust could put you in danger.”

  “I can handle myself.”

  “I know.”

  “Then let’s cut the bullshit. You don’t trust me. That’s why you won’t tell me what you plan to do with the chupacabra.”

  A bitter laugh escaped him. “I told you—”

  She jammed her fists on her hips. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Yeah, well, maybe you’ll believe that I don’t want to tell you because I’m not always proud of what my company does and who they’re involved with.” He averted his gaze, reached up to rub the back of his neck. “So yeah, there you have it. Question answered.”

  Sela nodded numbly. He was ashamed of his company’s actions. This was not the behavior of a man who was in bed with Itor for fun. There was a whole lot more to Logan, and the more she learned, the harder this job got.

  ANNIKA POUNDED ON THE DOOR OF THE HOUSE WHERE FAITH and Wyatt lived. For a while, they’d had a place off base, but after Faith had been nearly killed by an Itor agent—who now worked for ACRO—Wyatt refused to take any chances with her safety, and had moved them to the luxurious old officer quarters on the north side of the compound.

  Faith answered, dark hair pulled up into a ponytail and black sweats rolled up to her knees. She blinked when she saw Annika standing there, because, yeah, they weren’t exactly the best of friends. But they had similar backgrounds, similar thought processes, and if anyone could possibly help Annika make sense of her current mess, it would be Faith.

  Annika really would much rather talk to Haley, who was pretty much the only woman she considered a friend, but Annika’s home pregnancy test had popped a positive, and though Haley had a kid, she wasn’t a field agent, and she had no special abilities. She wouldn’t understand some of Annika’s unique issues.

  “Ah, hey, Annika. Wyatt is at work—”

  “I’m not here to see Wyatt,” Annika said quickly, before she lost her nerve. “If you have a minute, I need to talk to you.”

  Faith hesitated, confusion and suspicion darkening her expression before she finally stepped aside. “Come on in. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea?”

  The thought of either made Annika’s stomach roll over. “Thanks, no.” She followed Faith to the living room, where a three-month-old baby girl was sleeping in a playpen.

  “Don’t worry about waking her,” Faith said in her lilting British accent. “She can sleep through anything. She’s just like her dad.”

  Annika sank down on the couch. “Is she showing any signs of being telekinetic or biokinetic?”

  “Not yet, but both abilities tend to emerge later.” Faith snorted. “Good thing too, because her tantrums are bad enough without her throwing things across the room with her mind.”

  “I’ll bet.” An awkward silence stretched, because Annika wasn’t sure what to say next, and clearly, Faith was just as unsure. They really didn’t have a peaceful past. Finally Annika blurted out, “Why did you have a baby?”

  Faith’s eyes shot wide, and Annika had to wonder if that had been a rude question. Then she decided she didn’t care. She’d never really been one for subtlety.

  “Well,” Faith said slowly, as though she suspected a trick, “I’ve always wanted a family.”

  “But, I mean, how are you going to keep working? Aren’t you afraid it’ll screw up your life?”

  Faith smiled at the dark-haired infant. “I’d rather be home with her than off getting myself into danger. I still plan to work, but I’ll be more careful about the missions I accept.” She turned back to Annika. “Why? Are you and Creed thinking about a family?”

  “No!” Annika lowered her voice and hoped her panic hadn’t come through as blatantly as she thought it had. “It’s just that we’ll have to discuss it at some point, you know?”

  “Do you both want kids?”

  Annika folded her hands in her lap and looked down, her stomach churning. “He does. I don’t. But then, the other day, he flipped out when he thought I might have been lax on getting my birth control shot.” She dragged in a long breath, as if that would relieve the tension that had sprung up between her and Creed since then. They hadn’t fought, but they hadn’t talked much over the last couple of days, let alone made love. “I guess I’m just confused. Figured it couldn’t hurt to talk to someone who loves the work as much as I do, but who had a kid.”

  “He might be worried that if you don’t want kids, getting pregnant could drive a wedge between you two.”

  It already had, and she hadn’t even told Creed she was knocked up. “Maybe,” Annika said. Faith watched her expectantly and, unnerved, Annika looked away. But the sight of diapers, baby powder and a breast pump didn’t help. Coming here had been a mistake. “Look, I should go. Thanks for the talk.”

  “If you need anything, let me know.” Faith walked her to the door. “Come by anytime.”

  Annika’s eyes stung. Stupid hormones. “Yeah,” she rasped. “I will.”

  She took off, heading straight for home, where Creed’s hog was parked in the driveway. Nerves rattled her so badly her hands shook. She didn’t know what to do or say—she definitely didn’t want to tell him she
was pregnant. Not until she got her mind unscrambled.

  Maybe not ever.

  He was sitting in front of the TV watching a Seinfeld rerun. “Hey, babe,” he said.

  She walked over to the TV, turned it off and stood in front of it. “We need to talk.”

  “Okay…” He reached for the longneck beer on the coffee table. He always made sure he had something in his hands when it looked like things were going to get uncomfortable.

  “You said we should talk about kids.”

  He nearly choked on his beer. “Yeah. Later.”

  “I don’t want to wait until later. You freaked when you thought I was behind on my shot. Why?”

  “I just know you don’t want kids.”

  “Do you still want them?”

  He shoved to his feet. “Look, ah, let’s not talk about this now.”

  “We are talking about it now.”

  “No, we’re not.” Creed headed off toward the kitchen, but she darted to him, grabbed his arm and swung him around. His elbow struck the bookshelf, knocking over a picture of his dead brother, Oz. Figured. The guy had been a pain in the ass when he was alive, and now that he was dead, he continued to stick his nose in everyone’s business. Somehow, he still communicated with Dev, and he used Creed’s spirit guardian, Kat, to talk to Creed too.

  “I want to know what got you freaked out,” she said, ruthlessly shoving Oz from her mind, because he had no say in this. “Do you want kids, or not?”

  “Dammit, Annika.” He jammed his fingers through his hair. “Why is this important right now?”

  “Stop avoiding the question. Answer me!”

  He slammed the beer bottle down on the bookshelf, rattling the whole thing. “Not with you, okay?”

  “Oh.” She stumbled back, her brain churning to process what he’d said. He seemed to realize he’d just stepped in it big-time, because his face lost some color.

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” he said quickly, backpedaling. “I don’t want them at all.”

  “But … you said before you did.” The room spun a little, and she threw out a hand to brace herself against the wall. “If you were with someone else …”