Freefall Page 3

  Sara knew how that felt. Mark had done the same thing. After two years, he just up and left with no more than a hasty, see you ‘round. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine. I got over it.” He picked up a hairbrush and ran it through her long tresses. She watched, fascinated by the ripple of corded muscle in his arms.

  “Are you seeing someone?” she asked impulsively. So she had to know. Eryn might need a date sometime. Or not. Hell might freeze over first.

  No, the truth was, something about him intrigued her.

  He glanced at her reflection. “Not at the moment.”

  Disappointed that he didn’t offer more information, she decided he’d finished with the conversation, so she let it go.

  Elliott checked the heat level of the flat iron, then began pressing small strands of hair between the ceramic blades. When he was done, she had multiple layers of flattened hair, each shimmering and perfectly straight, like thick ribbons of gleaming satin. She’d never gotten her hair this straight.

  “I love dark hair,” he said absently. “The way it shines in any light.” He brushed her hair again, softening the hard layers with only a stroke or two. Then he finger-combed it to give it an untamed, yet perfectly controlled look.

  “And voila,” he said, standing back so she could see what he’d done.

  She was astounded. Like something out of a magazine, she, the tomboy-ish athlete, was glamorous, sexy, and very chic. The man had phenomenal talent. She couldn’t help but envy his sister.

  “Do you like it?” he asked, fiddling with a few strands.

  She tore her gaze from her reflection to regard him. Like it? Oh, hell yes. “Very much.”

  He smiled. “Do you have any hair spray?”

  She pointed to the can hidden beneath a wet towel.

  He sprayed her thoroughly, turning her into a work of art to be viewed, and not touched. “There we are. How’s that?” he asked when he’d finished.

  She looked in the mirror again. Unbelievable. “Will you do my hair from now on? I’ve never been able to get it to look like this.”

  He laughed. She liked the sound. Light. Sweet.

  “No,” he said. “You don’t really need my help. I have yet to see you looking anything less than beautiful.” He leaned closer. “And I’ve seen you first thing in the morning.”

  Sara’s face flushed. “That’s right, you have.”

  He brushed her cheek. “I think you haven’t a clue how stunning you are, Sara.”

  It had been a long time since anyone had paid her such a wonderful compliment. She was impressed with Bryan’s personal assistant. The man was certainly well trained and competent, traits she valued more than the pretty hair, nice eyes, and cute backside. “I’m not sure I’m deserving of such high praise.”

  “I am,” he said, straightening. “And so is Bryan. Are you ready to go?”

  Taking one last look in the mirror, she nodded and stood up. “I think so, thanks to you. By the way, where are you taking me?”

  Elliott’s gaze dropped to her backside. “Hang on. You’ve got a string.”

  She turned her back to the mirror to look at it while he drew a small pocket-knife from his jeans. To her complete shock, it was a small stiletto. It snapped open and the string was gone before she could even comment on it.

  “It’s a surprise,” he said, tucking the knife back in his pocket.

  Her gaze lifted to his. “What?”

  “Where I’m taking you.” Elliott grasped her hand and pulled her toward the stairs. “It’s a surprise. You’ll just have to wait until we get there.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Well, don’t you–”

  The lights flickered, and then went out.

  Elliott moved light-fast. Pressing her flush against the wall, he bent to her ear. Warm breath spiraled across her skin, sending flutters of chills up her back. “Don’t move,” he whispered.

  She did anyway. Let her hands come up to rest on his biceps.

  He didn’t pull back right away, which gave her a moment to feel the plane of his rock hard body. Lord, the man was hot. Even through their clothes, she felt it. He simply radiated pure sexual heat. His jasmine and spice scent was drugging, addictive. She leaned closer, curious to know how it smelled against his skin.

  Wonderful.

  Elliott reacted when she did that. His breath stopped for scant seconds, his head still lowered close to hers. Strands of hair teased her skin. So close. So hot.

  She waited, every muscle in her body tense.

  “Do you like it,” he asked, his voice low, hushed. He turned his head so that his breath fanned her neck.

  Oh, God. “Yes.”

  Silence.

  “I’d best discover why the lights went out. Bryan would be seriously pissed off if anything happened to you,” he said, at last, raising his head. “Wouldn’t want that.”

  “No, we wouldn’t. Thank you,” she agreed softly. Holy cow.

  Each muscle rippled as he slowly distanced himself from her. “Anytime, Sara. You have only to ask.” He moved silently to the bathroom window and peered through the blinds. A soft orange glow lit up his pale eyes, which meant the streetlights were still on outside.

  “Looks like everyone else still has power.” His gaze swung to hers. “I want you to stay here.”

  Sara shook her head, chasing away the spell he’d woven around her. “Not a chance. This is my house. I’m going with you.” She reached out into the darkness for his arm and, finding it, followed it down to his hand.

  His fingers clamped around hers first.

  “At least stay behind me, then. Will you do that for me?” he asked softly.

  “Yes, I will.” And she meant it. At least, until it was time to defend her home or her life. Then she’d do whatever was necessary.

  “Good,” Elliott said.

  Whatever happened, she wasn’t giving up without a fight, nor would she expect Elliott to give his all to protect her.

  He pulled her behind him and headed out into the hallway. The only skylight in her small two-story house was in the master bedroom. As they passed the doorway, soft gray light from the full moon spilled across their bodies, which gave Sara a nice view of Elliott’s entire backside.

  Tall, he looked about six feet, four inches. Only now did she realize he’d changed clothes. He wore black trousers and a matching jacket. A dark gray shirt peeked out from beneath the jacket and both were shadowed by his glistening black hair. He looked really nice.

  And he was gentle and kind. Who wouldn’t be proud to be at his side? His former girlfriend had been a fool.

  Elliott stopped at the head of the stairs to scan the floor below. Sara listened, knowing just what should be there–the clock in the kitchen and the hum of her personal computer in the downstairs office.

  All quiet.

  The power was off.

  Elliott evidently heard nothing as well, and so he tugged her into a slow descent down the stairs. Each step was measured, precise, his head turning to each side to listen and watch for anything that wasn’t right.

  Something growled.

  Elliott’s gaze snapped to the direction of the sound. Sara could see his eyes narrow and search for the intruder.

  She didn’t hear anything more.

  He leaned back. “Stay here,” he whispered.

  For now, her defiant self shot back.

  Elliott descended to the floor. Without the faint haze of the electronic clocks and such, his silhouette was difficult to follow. She watched as long as she could, until he’d dissolved into the blackness of the lower level.

  Another growl.

  What the hell was that?

  Something crashed against her baker’s rack in the kitchen. She heard Elliott’s soft grunt, then the pots clattered to the floor, skittering in all directions. A second later, a wild fight broke out between man and animal.

  Elliott’s grunts and growls mixed with the animal’s. Something cracked–the kitchen table? More grunts
.

  “Sara, run!”

  Oh, dear Lord! Sara felt her way down the remaining steps and turned toward the front door. She couldn’t see a thing. Damn it! Where was the couch? She couldn’t think with the scuffle behind her.

  Elliott…don’t get hurt because of me…

  Where was the couch? Where?

  There. Couch. She kept one palm flat against the back while the other stretched out before her.

  There. End table. Good.

  Another crash against the hutch. Grandma’s china cups and plates. A priceless collection of bone china from lifetimes ago. Gone. Damn it.

  The animal howled in pain. Good. Surely that meant Elliott was winning.

  Silence.

  More silence.

  Oh, no. Not good. If that meant Elliott had lost, that thing would come for her now.

  Shit.

  Front door. Where was the damn front door?

  Panic shrieked through her veins. If her father could see her now, he’d disown her for her cowardice. Ha! He’d never been pursued by a pack of rabid animals. What the hell did he know?

  She launched forward, both hands outstretched. The front door was only a few feet away. She might just make it.

  The animal growled before her. Low. Menacing.

  Stopping dead in her tracks, she mentally searched the living room for a weapon. Where? What? What could she use?

  Sara took three quick steps backward and found, unerringly, the crystal vase on the end table. She smashed it against the table and–

  Hot breath assaulted her face. Something wide and incredibly strong shoved her to the floor. It hovered above her, huge legs on either side of her head. The low growl in its throat made her think it might be a panther or lion, yet it had a distinct wet dog smell.

  Images and words immediately bombarded her mind.

  “…the Half Blood will either become one of us or die. The Xantu Guardians say she has the power to end our reign. I’ll not have it. For years we’ve kept her from learning what she is. We won’t fail now…”

  She looked up at the full moon. Her brethren surrounded her and she felt their need to heal her, but it was too late. Too much blood had been lost.

  Sara pushed the thoughts from her mind. “I don’t think so,” she snarled. Raising the glass shard, she shoved it into animal’s neck.

  The animal whimpered and then teetered.

  Silently, it relaxed, finally dropping on top of her. God, it was big. And heavy. Warm liquid seeped onto her stomach. Jesus!

  She rolled out from under it, and scrabbled to her feet. Without a thought in her head, she ran, arms reaching for anything. Anything.

  Front door.

  She threw it open and flew across the porch onto the front lawn.

  Can’t breathe.

  She dropped to her hands and knees, gasping for breath.

  A second later, Elliott tumbled out the front door. He dropped onto his stomach beside her. “I killed it,” he announced.

  Sara inhaled twice more before she felt like she’d caught her breath. “What are you talking about? I killed it.”

  Elliott’s gaze shot to her as realization dawned in his eyes. “Aw, shit. There were two. Might be more. We need to get out of here. Now. Go!”

  He sprang to his feet and pulled her with him on his way to the limo. The alarm chirped softly–he’d unlocked it by remote and–

  She slid into the front seat, slapping down the lock behind her.

  Elliott dropped in beside her. Starting the car, he wasted no time backing out of the drive way, switching gears, and high-tailing it down the road.

  What were those things? The list of questions went on and on, and she had answers for none of them. She didn’t even know where to search for answers. The zoo? Had something escaped? The animal shelter? None of those seemed likely, yet there had been two huge animals loose in her house.

  The real question was, why hadn’t it killed her? Instead, she suspected (and feared) it had been the reason she’d had that bizarre dream. Or hallucination. Whatever it was, it had unsettled her. Just what the hell was going on here?

  She scowled at the back of Elliott’s head. All of this started the moment he showed up. Maybe it was his fault.

  Sara let her headrest in her palms a moment, then raked both hands through her hair. She took in a deep, fortifying breath to calm strained nerves. “Is your life always like this?”

  “No,” he said, from the driver’s seat. “My life is exciting and full of surprises.”

  Sara laughed. She couldn’t help it. A near-death experience and he was cracking jokes. “That’s good to know, Elliott. I was beginning to think you were a total dud.”

  * * *

  Sara watched the night scenery rush by in silence. She’d asked two times where he was taking her and, both times, Elliott simply told her to wait until they got there. Wouldn’t be too much longer.

  She didn’t want to wait. She’d had enough surprises to last a good long while and now that the terror of earlier events had waned a bit, she was tired. While she was happy that Bryan wanted to see her, she couldn’t say with any certainty tonight just was the best choice. Her clothes were completely ruined, as was her hair and make-up. So much for looking glamorous. Disheveled was fine, she lamented, if it was from a night of love play. Quite another if it was from doing battle with wild animals.

  “You look fine,” he said, as if he’d read her mind.

  Sara didn’t agree. She had the torn jacket and bloody shirt to prove it. Her legs had long scratches from the claws of the beast. What she really wanted right now was a cup of hot tea, her sweats, and a blanket. Tonight was not a good night for a date.

  “I need to change clothes, you know,” she told him irritably.

  “I know,” he answered.

  She waited for him to say something else. Anything.

  He didn’t.

  Several minutes passed before she finally spoke up. “I don’t want to do this tonight, Elliott. I’m really tired.”

  “I know that, too.” He glanced in the rear view mirror. “But, I’m not going to take you home. Do you have any idea what those things were? What if more are waiting for you?”

  Good point. “Yeah, I suppose there could be more. All I really know is they were big, rather stinky, vicious animals. Do you think they were rabid?”

  “No, I don’t.” Another glance in the mirror.

  The soft gray glow from the dashboard washed the color from his light green eyes. He looked as tired as she felt. She leaned forward to study his profile. “You look really tired, too. Are you okay?”

  “Mm-hmm, fine,” he said absently.

  She nodded. “Please tell me where we’re going.”

  He sighed. “I’m taking you to Bryan’s. He wanted to surprise you, but given the circumstances, I’m sure he’ll just make sure you’re fed and comfortable. I’ll take care of securing your house.”

  “Thanks, Elliott. I appreciate that. And thanks for telling me.”

  “When you see him, pretend to be surprised,” he said, giving her another glance in the mirror.

  “Deal.” She sat back and resumed her study of the night scenery.

  The car phone chimed softly. “Excuse me for a few minutes, Sara,” Elliott said without looking at her. “Bryan and I have a lot to talk about.” He put up the privacy window before answering the phone.

  No doubt.

  She listened to him talk, even though the words were too muffled to understand. What he said wasn’t so important. She just liked hearing his soft, low voice. For all she cared, he could speak gibberish. She’d still like it.

  Leaning back in the seat, Sara studied as much of his profile as the dark glass allowed her to see, which wasn’t much. A little bit of hair, his profile, a muscular shoulder, and maybe his hand on the steering wheel.

  A moment later, he lowered the window. “You’re all set. Bryan will have a room ready for you.”

  “Thanks, Elliott.” She l
ooked at him and wondered if he lived at Bryan’s as well. Was a personal assistant expected to be on call twenty-four hours a day? “What do you do when you’re not working?”

  He smiled and looked at her in the mirror for several seconds. “Work out, play basketball, fish.”

  Ah. Macho Guy stuff. “Do you have any hobbies?”

  “Yeah, one,” he said with a grin.

  Okay, what was up with the secrecy? “And?”

  “You’ll laugh.”

  “No, I won’t,” she said, crossing her heart. “I promise.”

  He laughed softly. “I sculpt.”

  She hadn’t expected that. “Really? Can I see your work?” she asked before she could stop herself.

  “Sure, one of these days.”

  As she pestered him further about the kind of clay he used, and what he generally preferred to sculpt, she realized she really enjoyed his company, and was genuinely interested in his work. And, yes, by heavens, she would see it. And soon.

  Several minutes later, she stood before Bryan’s 30-room mansion.

  Towering columns of marble reached from the ground to the second story and separated one wing from the other. The driveway and porch were both pale flagstone, flanked by verdant shrubbery on both sides.

  Elliot strode up beside her, a hint of a smile on his face. “Do you like it?”

  She reached for his forearm and gave it a gentle squeeze. “This is exquisite. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life.”

  He scanned the house. “Yeah, it’s nice.”

  “More than nice,” she corrected. “It’s a palace.”

  “It’s not quite big enough for that. Come inside. Bryan’s waiting for you,” he said, placing her hand in the crook of his elbow. “We’ll get you some new clothes and have you fixed up in no time.”

  After what had happened tonight, she was ready for some serious relaxation. Dinner, a glass of wine, and some easy conversation were all she wanted to handle.

  Elliott escorted her through a hallway of rich, dark wood and marble floors, through a grand living room with cathedral ceilings, and tan leather furniture. The stone fireplace stood between two ceiling-high bookshelves. Each shelf was packed with books, all hardback. All very old looking.