A slight frown tugged at Mary Ann’s mouth, put little lines around her eyes. “I don’t think so, Nicolae. I can’t remember—isn’t that strange? But I keep notes. He must be in the notes. He wanted something...” She trailed off again, looking more bewildered than ever.
She has the classic signs of memory tampering. Every time she tries to picture him, she feels pain. Nicolae waved Mary Ann back to her chair, soothed her with his touch alone, trailing his fingers along the top of the desk so that she followed the hypnotic gesture.
“What did he want?” Nicolae sounded casually interested, but there was a hidden compulsion in the velvet tones of his voice.
Destiny scowled at him.
She can’t remember him. It hurts her to think about him. Don’t push her like that.
She thumped the desktop, her fingernails tapping out a rhythm of warning.
Nicolae reached out and gently laid his hand over Destiny’s, stilling her nervous fingers.
You know this is necessary. I will protect her from pain, little one. I can just imagine you with our children. I would never dare to correct their behavior.
Destiny’s heart thudded. Her eyes widened in shock.
No one said anything about children.
She hissed the words at him.
You never said a single word about children.
There was panic in her voice, in her eyes.
Mary Ann leaned back in her chair, but neither Carpathian looked at her. Their gazes were locked on each other.
That would be a natural progression, I would think. Nicolae pried Destiny’s fingers from the desk and placed her palm over his heart.
I am beginning to realize that you have more fear of what is natural than you have of the undead.
Destiny didn’t dare answer him. She didn’t know how to answer him. He was in her mind, reading her every thought. He knew the idea of home and hearth and family was terrifying to her. Her eyes flashed at him, daring him to be amused.
Mary Ann saved him. “He was looking for someone. A woman with a special talent. He wanted me to call him if she happened to show up here. She was traced here, to Seattle, but she’s disappeared.” Mary Ann opened a drawer and removed a business card to hand it to Nicolae.
He leaned close to Destiny so she could read it with him. So she could inhale his masculine scent and feel the brush of his skin against hers. Her tongue traced her suddenly dry lower lip, and the action immediately caught his attention. Destiny lowered her gaze from his sculpted lips to the card.
“The Morrison Center for Psychic Research.” She read the words out loud. “Have you ever heard of them, Nicolae? Mary Ann?” She turned the card over. “They have several addresses in several cities, none here in Seattle. Why would they be following a woman into a sanctuary for battered women? Did she run away from them?”
“Mary Ann,” Nicolae said. “The gentleman asked you to call this number if the woman showed up here asking for help?”
Mary Ann smiled with the innocence of a child, nodding her head. “It was strange. Afterward I wondered why I hadn’t thought of Destiny. She doesn’t fit the description, but she is talented. I thought it strange that she didn’t come to my mind.”
The protections held, Nicolae observed with some relief. There was a certain underlying arrogance in his tone. Destiny glanced warily at him, aware on some level that there were many things Nicolae was capable of that she was not. His hand slid down her arm, a gesture of camaraderie.
I am an ancient, my love, and your protector. There are many things I have learned over the centuries.
I’ll just bet there are.
“Mary Ann, tell us something about the woman this man is seeking,” Nicolae prompted.
Mary Ann frowned again. “He gave me a photograph of her, a reprint from a computer. That’s how I knew it wasn’t Destiny.” She rummaged through two drawers, confused that she couldn’t remember where she had placed the picture. She found it in her notebook, pressed between two pages of writing. “This is the woman. Do you know her?” In spite of Nicolae’s persuasive commands, Mary Ann handed the picture over almost reluctantly.
The woman could have been anywhere from twenty to her mid thirties. She had a lush, full figure and a mass of dark hair falling in a cascade of loose ringlets. She was looking back at the camera, and there was a hunted, anxious look in the depths of her eyes. Destiny felt an instant kinship with her. She knew what it was like to be alone and hunted. Whatever the woman was running from, a violent boyfriend or husband, she now had much bigger problems with a vampire tracking her.
“What is her talent?” Destiny asked.
“She can hold an object and know who has touched it and the past history associated with it. A wonderful gift, and very rare.”