Brock drove down the main street, through the small residential streets and down a dirt road.
“I’m sorry about Galvez and the Kyler Jones’ case.” Cynthia cleared her throat. “I knew you’d found the child, but I didn’t realize he hadn’t told you we’d go in to retrieve her.”
“It took longer because Erica is on her honeymoon, and we didn’t get a chance to meet most of the family for a few days.”
She leaned on the head rest. “That was a very difficult case. I don’t think anyone expected for the uncle to be the one who had abducted the little girl.”
Brock remembered the moment Jane had done a medical background check on the entire family. Her thoughts on the uncle were what drove Brock to call Galvez and the local PD on the case.
“Why were you surprised?”
“I was shocked that the man had taken the little girl hostage.” She pinned him with her gaze. “He was going to kill her.”
“He had a history of mental illness.”
“That nobody bothered to tell us about.” Cyn ran her hands through her hair. “Until Jane looked up everyone’s medical history. What made you decide it was him?”
The road narrowed, until they were caged in between two rows of trees.
“There are people who know they’re practicing evil things and don’t care. But then there’re those who practice evil and truly believe they’re doing good. Those people are the most dangerous people you can meet. That man was mentally ill. He believed in the hallucinations he had that told him to kill the child to save her soul.”
She swallowed hard. “It’s your quick thinking that saved Kyler. When I entered the house, the man’s eyes…they were empty.” Sadness drifted from her side of the vehicle. “He walked into the flames, all the while telling me he’d return to save her.”
“You saved her. You took her out of harm’s way.” He grabbed her hand, lifted it to his mouth and brushed his lips over her palm. “Some evils can be destroyed. Some hide so deep, so well, it takes something big for it to come out.”
She blinked. He heard her heartbeat increase in gallops. She inhaled sharply and glanced away from him to the road. The further they went, the more she gave him directions, until they reached a secluded house. Paint peeled on the outside of the house. A bright red convertible sat on the paved driveway.
He slowly pulled up next to the sports car and turned to Cyn. His chest tightened. He hated that sadness on her face. Her head was cocked to the side as she took in the house. He wondered what she thought at that moment. Not that he couldn’t peek into her mind, he could. He’d never done that to her. Her thoughts and memories were private. If and when she chose to share them with him…then he’d hear them.
She glanced at the house in concentration. “I don’t remember this house too well. But whenever I think of it, a sick sensation grows in the pit of my stomach.”
Her words were low, as if she’d been speaking to herself, but he’d been able to hear. He did have the hearing that allowed him to hear much more than just talking in the area.
“And whose house is this?”
She jerked her face toward him. A forlorn smile spread over her lips. “It was Marcia’s. I was told we’d lived here when I was small, but the only time I remember this house clearly was ten years ago when I came for my mother’s funeral.”
The house was very old. With a Victorian construction, but a paint job from hell. Dark-gray shutters covered the windows. What was supposed to be an inviting porch appeared to be rotted wood. There was no way that was stable.
“It’s not as bad as it seems.” Cyn patted his leg.
He grabbed her wrist so fast her pulse tripped under his fingers. She met his gaze. Her eyes widened. There it was. The widening of her pupils. The scent of her arousal filled the car. No matter what happened in the past, no matter what came out of her gorgeous full lips, one thing was clear: she was still his. And he planned on taking his mate back.
The animal inside growled. He couldn’t take her yet. The last time they’d been together, he’d been worried about being too rough with her, too much for her. Not anymore. She was his.
“James, let me go.”
Never. He’d never let her get away again. He had to find out what drove her from him in the first place to ensure it wouldn’t happen again. Cyn was the only woman he’d wanted for over a decade. Now that she was in his life, there was no need to fill every second with a case in order to stop thinking about her.
“You’re mine.”
She licked her lips and glanced down at his mouth. Heat crowded her golden skin, creating blotches of pink on her cheeks.
“James…”
He rubbed his thumb back and forth over her tripping pulse. “I can wait. I’ve waited this long. But make no mistake, this time, I’m not letting you go.”
She gasped, tugging her wrist free. Fire flashed in her eyes. “You can help me figure out where my cousin is, or you can go. What we had is in the past. We have a job to do.”
He’d let her believe that, for now. In time, she’d come to realize that he was a different man. Movement diverted his attention. A blonde woman slid out of the sports car.
“That’s the realtor I hired. She’s the sheriff’s wife. She’s been overseeing things for me.”
“What things?” He frowned, watching the blonde wobble on her heels.
She made a face filled with distaste while staring at the rundown house. “I’m trying to sell it.”
“How long have you been trying to sell?”
“About a year.” She sighed. “Now I see why it hasn’t sold. I didn’t even know I owned this place until she contacted me.”
That didn’t sound right. “Didn’t your aunt know?”
Cyn turned troubled eyes his way. “Clara…has a lot of things going on in her mind. Grandmom said I shouldn’t ever bother her.”
Surprise filled him. This was her family. Cynthia had always been close to her grandmother. For her to be told not to interact with a relative sounded strange even to him.
“She’s your aunt.”
She shrugged. “She’s a little strange. The last time I saw her was for grandmother’s funeral in our old house. She showed up, dropped some flowers on the casket, and left. Didn’t say a word the few minutes she was there.”
“Hi! Cynthia?” The blonde knocked on Cyn’s window.
Brock jumped out of the SUV, rushing to the other side to open her door.
Cyn’s brows dipped low. She took his offered hand and used it to get out of the SUV.
“Yes, I’m Cynthia.”
“I am so happy to finally meet you.” The blonde gushed, shaking Cyn’s hand excitedly. “I’m Amy Kemp, the realtor you’ve been talking to about the house. Thank goodness I get to put a face to the name, finally. Conference calls don’t really do much for getting to know a person.”
Cyn scrunched her nose. “No. Conference calls are really impersonal.”
Amy turned to Brock. Curiosity lit in her gaze. “Is this your boyfriend?”
Subtlety was clearly not something she knew.
“Co-worker,” he replied, unwilling to give the nosy woman information.
“James Brock. Amy Kemp.” She introduced him to the blonde. “Brock, Amy is the realtor I told you about.”
Cyn squeezed between them, marching to the front entrance of the house. She stopped a few feet from the broken-down steps leading to the door.
“I see you haven’t gotten a chance to fix the outside.”
Amy rushed up to Cyn’s side, attempting not to trip over the small rocks in her sky-high spiked red heels. Brock shook his head. He didn’t understand why women tried to walk in what looked like torture devices. That had been one thing he’d liked about Cyn, she’d worn heels, and after a while she’d walk around barefoot claiming she couldn’t stand them.
“I know it looks bad,” Amy bit her lip, frowning at the peeling yellow paint on the house’s exterior.
Bad? The place was a hazard. He couldn’t sense anything from the house. It was as though it’d been alone for so long that all signs of life were gone. He couldn’t let her go inside without checking it out first.
“What have you gotten a chance to do?” Cyn clenched her jaw. Her fingers curled into her palms in a display of aggravation.
“Oh, the inside is lovely. We cleared out all the old furniture and made repairs. We even put in a hot tub in the master bedroom. I know I didn’t get a chance to do the outside yet, but you’ll see that this is not as bad as you think.”
He doubted it. The whole damn place appeared to be falling apart. “Do you have keys?”
Amy flushed. With a shaky hand, she dug the keys out of her red bag, red tipped nails curled around the plastic key ring. “Here you are, but we can all go in together.”
“No.”
Amy jumped at his growled response, her eyes wide with shock. “O-okay.”
“Brock needs to check things out first,” Cyn replied, frowning at him at the same time she tried to soothe the other woman’s nervous stuttering.
Beads of sweat trickled down his spine with each step he took away from Cyn. Logic dictated he ensure the place was safe for her to enter, but the animal inside didn’t want to go far. Thick energy pulsed in his palms, reminding him that he was stronger than anything in the vicinity.
Rounding a corner, he went past the dried rose bushes, toward the backside of the house. A ladder lay on its side, splattered with white paint. Further down the path, he could see the windows had been replaced. Around the south side of the house, he encountered the rear porch. Two raggedy old rocking chairs sat facing the yard. Still, he didn’t get a single negative sensation.
“Phew!” Amy chuckled. “He’s a hottie.”
“Yes, I know,” Cynthia murmured.
“So…is he single?” Amy’s voice hushed in a whisper.
“No! No, he’s not. He’s married. Very, very married,” Cyn’s tone was annoyed.
“Really?” Amy sighed. “That’s too bad. He's hot as hell. I have some friends who would have loved to meet him.”
He grinned, imagining the frown on Cyn’s face or the soft growling she did when she was pissed. That growling got them into some very heated moments in bed. His body thrummed with memories of her hands on him. Fucking hell. Great time for him to remember that sex between them could have burned a couple of cities.
“Yes, really. He’s married. Happily married.”
He chuckled at how quickly she’d answered Amy’s question. He knew she was lying, and he knew the reason. She was jealous. He grinned a self-satisfied smile to himself. It was about damn time.
“Oh darn,” Amy groaned. “All the good ones always are.”
“Right. So, what can you tell me about Roxy’s disappearance?”
Nice. She went straight for what they came for.
“Not much, really. I don’t socialize with Clara or her daughter.”
“But do you know anything?” Cyn pressed.
“In a small town like Holy Oaks, everyone knows everyone’s business.”
That was probably one of the best ways to gather information on the missing Roxy, depend on gossip to fill in blanks.
“What can you tell me, Amy?” Cynthia pleaded softly.
“I know she was dating the preacher’s boy, Josh Landley.”
Brock did a full circle of the house, entering through the rear door and walking toward the front. Everything was quiet. Dead. Nothing negative lived in the house, or he’d know. The power skimming over his pores shook the foundation, but no evil burst free. They could stay there for the night.
Cynthia wanted to slap Amy Kemp. The moment Brock appeared through the front entrance, the woman’s face lit up with excitement.
“Josh Landley is a teenager, just like Roxy, right?”
Amy nodded, still staring at Brock. Her smile grew with each step he took toward them. Cyn glanced at him. His eyes roamed her body from head to toe. A slow shiver raced down her spine. How could he decide to give her that kind of stare with the first woman she met in Holy Oaks watching him?
“We can go in.”
Amy giggled. “I should think so. I’ve been overseeing the remodeling of this house. All is as it should be.”
Cyn growled. The blonde was so close to being told to take a hike it was unreal. Unfortunately, she needed information from Amy.
“You were saying Roxy was dating Josh Landley?”
Amy nodded at Brock. “Yes, but his mother, Theresa Landley, didn’t want her son dating Clara’s daughter.”
“Oh?” Brock asked, joining in the conversation.
Amy really needed to stop ogling Brock, or she was going to end up in a body bag. She watched as Amy widened her eyes and threw him a flirty smile.
“Yes, it’s true. Theresa felt that Clara is just way too weird for her only child to be dating her daughter. She always says she’s concerned their relationship will grow into something she’ll have to put an end to.”
Interesting. If Theresa Landley interfered with Josh and Roxy, it could have been a reason for the girl to go missing. Maybe nursing a broken heart somewhere. Theresa Landley was someone she’d need to talk to about the missing teen. Not that Roxy was deemed missing by authorities just yet. That was their next stop.
“But they were dating casually, weren’t they?”
Amy shrugged. “I suppose. I don’t think that made any difference with Theresa. She’s obsessed with setting a good example in the community. Having little Josh date the daughter of the town weirdo wasn’t part of the vision.”
And probably not part of her future plans either. Cyn wanted to pull out her pad and take notes, but she knew it would stop Amy from giving them any further information if she felt she was being interrogated.
“Do you know of anyone else we should talk to?” She tried to divert Amy from staring at Brock’s muscled body before she snapped at the woman.
“I’d say talk to Josh. He’s the best clue you have.”
“Thanks for coming by, Amy,” She spit through gritted teeth, watching Amy smile flirtatiously at Brock while heading for her car.
“If you need anything, just call me.”
They waved her away. Amy’s red convertible skidded on the road, lifting dust as she did a quick U-turn, flashing red taillights on her way down toward the main street.
Cyn inhaled and grabbed her bag from the SUV to enter her house. After dropping her overnight unceremoniously on top of one of her new sofas, she hopped in Brock’s vehicle.
“Take me to Aunt Clara’s house. You can leave me there and check out the station while I question her.”
“You don’t want me there with you?”
She shook her head. “Clara’s very peculiar. Okay, she’s darned strange, and doesn’t take well to new people. So it’s best if I chat with her.”
“I’ll go talk to the local police and see what they have to say, then.”
She nodded. The roar of the engine snapped her attention to the present and away from the murderous thoughts over Amy Kemp’s staring of Brock.
“So,” he started.
She glanced over to see a wicked smile caress his lips. “So?”
“Married, huh?”
She knew she shouldn’t have said that. Even if he was several yards away he could easily hear her. But the green monster of jealousy had reared its ugly head, and the last thing she wanted was to think of him with any other woman. Especially not a friend of Amy Kemp’s.
“You were eavesdropping,” she chastised. “That’s not something I expected of you.”
He laughed. That rich powerful laugh that turned all her bones to liquid and made her heart beat double time. “I can’t help listening. You know I have sensitive ears.”
“Yes, I know all about the beast and the special skills that come along with it.” She also knew about the incredible sex and unbelievable power only he had. No one could go against him. And she was his boss. What a joke. “I was in a relationship with you, in case you’ve forgotten.” She felt frustrated enough to bring that up. “So I do know about your special skills, your beast, your hearing, your strength. I also know the other side of you.” She watched his eyes turn a bright crimson. “The side your dear mother passed on to you.”
“Cyn—”
“All those skills. Smell, sight, sound, and here I am, your leader. I really think I’m being punked with this assignment.”
“Cyn—”
“You have so much strength and power that can help lead this team,” she rambled on, “but I have nothing.”
“Cyn—”
“Seeing the future in bits and pieces means nothing when you can’t decipher it!”
He slammed on the brakes, put the SUV in park, and turned to her. Breaths pounded in her chest as she watched his red eyes turn fully black. Lord, oh lord, how the sight turned her on. She knew his other beast—the powerful darkness living right below his skin—was pushing to get out. Pushing to be set free. And damn it all to hell, she knew having that part of him in control had burned some amazing memories into her brain.
In the time it took her to take a rushed breath, his face was mere inches away. A buzz started in her veins. She licked her lips, and he clenched his jaw. This was the beast combined with the other side. The side she loved to have come out and play. Combined with his animal, the dark side had given her orgasms worthy of an award or a star in the walk of fame. The scent of his cologne, dark and sensual with just a hint of spice, set her hormones into a frenzy.
She sat there, transfixed by the pure hunger, pure possession in his eyes.
He lifted a finger and rubbed it over her lower lip. “None of those things mean anything to me if you’re not by my side.”
“Brock…” His name sounded like a plea from her lips.
“I want you,” he growled. Deep. Hard.
Her pussy turned ready-to-be-fucked wet. Every cell woke at the sound of his rough words. Worst of all, he knew the effect he had on her.
“I…” She struggled to find something other than, “please take me now” to say. There was a reason she left, and she wouldn’t—as much as it tore her apart piece-by-piece—change her mind.
Hell. She needed to keep her head. No matter how much she loved him, she wasn’t the woman for him. After clearing her throat a few times, she blinked away the visuals of tearing away his clothes and licking every inch of hot muscular skin.
He ran his hand around the neckline of her tank. She dared not breathe or move for fear of jumping him. The sounds of her heartbeat filled her ears. His lips were so close. So sexy. Her gaze shot down from his gorgeous black eyes to the smirk covering his lips.
“Do it,” he taunted.
She met his erotic gaze, a gaze that broke through all the barriers and turned her need for him into a time bomb waiting to detonate.
“Kiss me, Cyn.” He moved even closer. “You know you want to.”
Hell yes she wanted to. She wasn’t stupid. She’d been wanting his lips all over her body since the last time she’d been with him. For so long he’d been like a drug to her desperate body’s cravings. Addicted. Yes, she’d been hooked on him. On his body. His cock. His mouth, and oh that sinful tongue. His hands and body had helped release more endorphins in her than any amount of chocolate.
The corners of his eyes crinkled. He looked so damn good with that smile. Even if it was to taunt her.
She watched him lick his lips and lost it. One move, and she was on him. The minute their lips met it was like coming home. Instant fire blazed in her core. His tongue drove into her mouth, swiping against hers. Owning. Possessing. Branding. Arousal blanketed her body with a desperate edge. For that moment, her self-control deserted her. She curled her nails into his muscled shoulders and whimpered at the way he rubbed his tongue sensuously around her mouth. And then he was gone.
She bit back a groan of frustration when he pulled away from her. With her entire body throbbing for more of his kisses, she met his gaze. Met the dark eyes and knew by the way his features had tightened, that he had a hard time holding on to his own control.
“I want you,” he whispered in that gravelly voice that made her panties twist into knots. “You’re mine. You always will be.”
She tried to catch her breath. Tried to ignore the truth in his words. Her mind reeled. What was wrong with her? Ten years away from him had turned her desperate. She’d abstained from sex without a problem after him. She knew he was the man, the only man, to fill her heart, body, and soul.
Christ. She couldn’t believe she’d almost torn at his clothes in the middle of the afternoon, in his car.
“Clara’s waiting for me.”
“Why’d you leave, Cyn?”
Sharp pain dug its claws into her soul. She’d left because there was no other choice. And she wouldn’t change things now. “I’ve told you the past is the past. What we had is over. I need to speak to my aunt.”
She held his gaze for a long silent moment, fighting the stronghold his black eyes had her in. It didn’t matter that he wanted her still, or that he probably would give them another chance. What mattered was the future. Other than a co-worker, she wouldn’t be in his.
Tension thickened in the SUV. She watched his hands curl into fists. To know he had so much power at his disposal and not once use it against her just floored her every time she thought about it. Even when she’d yelled and screamed and fought him over stupid things, he’d always been careful with her. Even now, she could see how hard it was for him to pull the power back and keep it under control. He still gazed at her as though she were the most precious thing in the world. That’s why she couldn’t hurt him. Because no matter what, she loved him with everything she had, but it would never be enough.
He turned to the road. Keeping both hands on the wheel, he gripped it in a white-knuckle hold. Without moving his hands from the leather, she felt the light caress of his fingers over her face. The urge to close her eyes and lean into it hit her hard.
“James, please…” She swallowed hard against the raw dryness in her throat. “We have work to do.”
He sighed and started the SUV. The sensual hold she’d felt moments before lightened, and she blinked as though coming out of a dream.
She gave him directions to her aunt’s house, hoping a few minutes away from him would help her rebuild the walls she’d been hiding behind.
“You can leave me here.” She muttered once they reached Clara’s rundown country house. Much like Cyn’s home, it needed some serious repairs. Even the grass had a brownish color to it that screamed of death.
“You’re sure that’s what you want?”
She knew what he was asking, but she wasn’t going there. “Yes. We can cover ground faster between the two. There’s a diner just down this road.” She pointed toward the main street not far from Clara’s house. “I’ll talk to Clara and meet you there in about an hour. I’ll walk it, and we can eat and see what we figure out.”
His brows dipped in a frown of concern. “I can wait for you.”
“No, it’s ok. I’ll be fine, and I’ll see you soon.” She jumped down from the SUV the moment he parked, slamming the door closed.