"RENATA IS STAYING IN A COTTAGE at the edge of town," Harley said when Grady picked up his call the next day. "As soon as it got light, I started looking for a place for you to stay nearby. I rented a cottage about a mile from her." He rattled off the address. "I'll keep an eye on her until you get here. Then it's up to you while I get a nap." He hung up.
"Where is she?" Megan asked as she came out of her bedroom.
"On the outskirts of the city. Harley arranged for us to be near her. Okay?"
She nodded. "I'll go get my suitcases." She frowned as she stopped at the door. "This Michael Travis keeps track of all kinds of psychics, right?"
He nodded.
"Does he know any healers?"
"What do you mean?"
"What do you think I mean?" She said curtly. "Phillip. I'm willing to try anything."
He shook his head. "I've never run across a genuine healer. I don't believe Michael has either. He told me that he thought he'd found one in Brasilia about a decade ago, but it turned out the man was a fake. Evidently it's a very rare gift."
"Shit." Her lips tightened. "It's the one talent that would be worthwhile in this mess. I'm a doctor. I'd give my eyeteeth to have that kind of ability to help people, to help Phillip. Do I have any chance of becoming one? You said my mother had other talents besides being a Listener. She was a Finder. Couldn't I have-" He was shaking his head. "Why not, dammit?"
"The odds are against it. Finders are fairly common. Sarah was just an extremely good one. Healers are almost nonexistent. The chances are slim to none that you could develop into a healer."
"I am a healer. I'm a doctor and a good one. I just want an edge to help be a better one." She shrugged. "Maybe you're wrong. It's such a waste to have all this medical training and only be able to Listen to the woes of the world."
"I hope I'm wrong. I don't like disappointing you. If it was in my hands, I'd give you anything you wanted, do anything you asked." He met her eyes and added softly, "Anything, any way, Megan."
She stiffened. "My God, Grady."
"Just thought I'd reestablish the playing field." He smiled. "Since you've read the Tribunal Reports, you know everything I know. That means all this honorable restraint can go down the drain. Thank God. It was completely out of character for me. Let the games begin."
She didn't answer for a moment but heat flushed her cheeks. "You sound like the opening ceremony of the Olympics."
"It could turn out that way. But maybe I used the wrong word. Let the resolution begin. We've both been wanting this to happen for a long, long time. We won't get any peace until it does, until we taste it, until we know each other." He could see the pulse beating in the hollow of her throat. "Good. Feel it. Come toward me. Feel me. I'm not going to touch you. You have to be the one to take the first step."
For a minute he thought she was going to take that step.
Then she turned and closed the door behind her.
Dammit. He took a half step toward the door before his could stop himself.
No, it had been close. Don't ruin it because he was so hot he was about to explode. Be patient.
Patient? No way.
MEGAN LEANED AGAINST THE DOOR, fighting to keep herself from opening it again and going to him.
There it was again, sexuality, raw, hot, tingling, taking her breath away. An emotional and physical response that had completely blown her away.
Stop shaking. Get over it. Get your suitcases and leave the hotel and go find Renata.
Not yet. Give it time.
If she saw him in the next few minutes, she wasn't sure they would leave the bedroom, much less the hotel.
THE COTTAGE WAS SMALL WITH a thatched roof and flowers in the window boxes.
"Talk about Sound of Music ambiance," Grady murmured as he held the car door open for her. "You expect to see Julie Andrews running back to the abbey."
She shook her head. "No mountains. Just forest. And I'd rather see Renata running toward us." She avoided his hand and got out of the car. "Is Harley supposed to meet us here?"
"Yes. The key is under the rock beside the door. I'll call him when we get inside." He moved toward the cottage. "He said he needed a nap. He's been watching her cottage since she arrived last night. I'll see you settled and then take over watching Renata for him."
"That's fine with me."
"I'm sure it is," he said dryly. "The more distance between us the more you'll like it. You're treating me as if I have a contagious disease."
It was true. On the trip here she had been very careful not to touch him even casually. Yet sitting beside him had still been too provocative. She had been able to feel the heat of his body, smell the faint scent of him. "Really?" She didn't look at him. "And you're cut to the quick?"
"No, I kind of like it. It encourages me to know that I'm having an impact. The worst response would be no response with a woman with your emotional makeup." He stopped at the door. "Coming?"
She hesitated and then came toward him. "You think you know so much about me. I'm not a Pandora and even if I was, I wouldn't accept being put into a niche. I'm me and that means my character, my attitudes, my soul. Screw you, Grady."
He grinned. "That's exactly what I'm aiming toward." He reached down and retrieved the key from beneath the rock. "And I hope you don't turn out to be a Pandora. I wouldn't wish that headache on anyone." He unlocked the door and turned to face her. "It would hurt you. I won't allow anything to hurt you, Megan. Not even me."
Dammit, she couldn't breathe. She was dizzy, melting.
"Oh, shit," he said unevenly, "You remember when I told you that you had to take the first step?"
She nodded.
"I'm willing to renegotiate. Just say the word. Any word. As long as it's not no."
It should be no. She wasn't able to think clearly and logic should rule in a situation this volatile. She should be prudent and control this physical response that was making her weak. Yet all she could think about was the Neal Grady who had been her playmate and mentor that summer on the beach. Playmate and mentor… and the object of a young girl's first passion. He had said he had wanted her for years. How long had she wanted him? Had desire been smothered with memory or had it merely been kept burning low? It seemed impossible that it could ever have been any less than the need she was feeling now.
To hell with it. Reach out and take it. Take him. "Inside," she said shakily. "Now."
"That'll do." He grasped her arm and opened the door. "Oh, will that do. Come on, let's find a bed."
Her arm was tingling, hot, beneath his touch. "Hurry. I don't care about the bed."
"Good." He turned on the light and pushed her back against the front door. His body rubbed slowly against her as he tilted her head back. His lips pressed against the hollow of her throat. "I don't think I could wait anyway." He was unbuttoning her shirt as his tongue licked delicately at her neck. "Hell, my hands are shaking so badly I'm not sure I can get these clothes off you."
"I'll do it." She backed away from him and stripped quickly. "I don't trust you. If you have time to consider, you might come up with some stupid reason why you won't-" She stopped and inhaled sharply as his hand went between her legs. "Or maybe not."
"Good call." He was pulling her down to the floor. "I can't reason at all right now." He took off his shirt and threw it aside. He was astride her and she felt the roughness of the denim of his jeans against her inner thighs. The sensation was vaguely erotic, she thought dazedly. Everything about him was erotic, his scent, his hands between her thighs, his flushed face above her.
"How do you want it?" he asked hoarsely. "Tell me. Anything you want, Megan."
His hands were driving her crazy. She arched upward as she jerked him down to her. "Just do it, dammit. I don't care…"
"I SUPPOSE WE SHOULD FIND THE bedroom." Grady's hands cupped her breasts from behind. "Or a shower." He pulled gently on her nipples. "Or a kitchen."
"Why?" Lord, she still wanted him, she realized in surprise. How many times had they come together in the past few hours? They had made love frantically, endlessly, with almost animal ferocity. "I don't want to move."
"I told you that I didn't want you hurt." He was rubbing her bottom. "And I'll bet you have rug burns on your ass."
"Maybe. Battle wounds."
"Now that the edge is off, I think we can get off this floor." He got up and reached down to take her hand and pull her to her feet. "Come on. The shower first, I think."
"You want to take a shower?"
"No, I want to continue doing what we've been doing in a different location." He was leading her across the living room. "I figure by the time I become guilty enough to call Harley and tell him I'm ready to relieve him that we'll have had time to make love in every room in this house. It's good that it's such a small place or Harley would be out of luck."
Make love. Not screw. Not fuck.
They were just words, she told herself. They didn't mean anything. Yet why did she feel this sudden flow of warmth that had nothing to do with passion?
"What's your view on kitchen tables?" Grady asked.
"Interesting. I don't believe I've ever done it on one."
"Good. I'll have to try to make sure the experience memorable. I wouldn't want you to be disappointed…"
"YOU SHOULD CALL HARLEY," she said as she rolled over in bed. "He'll wonder why he hasn't heard from us."
"He'll make an educated guess. Harley is damn perceptive." He pressed her cheek to his shoulder. "In this case he wouldn't have to be. A blind man could have seen how I felt about you."
"Um-hmm. Lust is pretty difficult to hide."
He chuckled. "That's an understatement. Physically it's damn well impossible for a man." He reached for his phone on the bedside table. "You're certain I can't persuade you to forget about Harley for another hour?" No.
"Thirty minutes?"
"No."
"Fifteen? I promise I'll make it worth your time."
She was sure he would. The last hours had been almost unbearably passionate. Lord, she'd gone crazy. She'd never had an experience this intense. She was tempted even now to roll back on top of him and start again.
"Fifteen?" he whispered.
She reached out and touched his chest. He felt warm and alive, his heart pounding harder beneath her palm. She could do this to him. She could make his muscles clench, his breath quicken. Power. Yet he could do the same thing to her. Together the power and delight could go on and on and on…
Oh, God, she was feeling too much. It was passion and yet not passion. What was happening to her? She thought in panic.
"I don't think so." She sat up and swung her feet to the floor. "Call Harley. He's waited long enough." She jumped up and grabbed the cotton patchwork quilt at the foot of the bed to wrap around her. "I'll jump in the shower."
"Again?" He was smiling. "It's better with company."
"But faster alone." She headed for the bathroom. "I'll see you later."
"Megan." She turned to see him gazing at her with narrowed eyes. "You're running away."
"Perhaps. Or maybe I'm trying to put things in perspective. You said that we needed to resolve the past or it would be with us forever. We've done that, Grady."
"The hell we have. I haven't resolved anything. I just want more." He paused. "And right now forever doesn't sound all that bad."
"Well, it scares the bejesus out of me." She went into the bathroom and closed the door. The next moment she was in the shower stall with the water flowing over her.
Wash away the feel of him, the scent of him. Perhaps then she could think calmly and coolly about what had happened.
Not likely. The moment she thought of Grady, she saw him on the beach with the wind blowing his hair. Or holding her in that hospital waiting room when she'd been told about Phillip's condition. Or naked over her, hard and strong yet shaking with intensity.
It scared her that the sexual memory had come last in order. It should be first after their recent coupling. It was too blasted significant that the gentler, sweeter memories had evidently meant more to her.
Passion was fine. Anything else would weaken her and he had already shown her how ruthless he could be. He was into control and could she keep her physical and mental independence when she felt like melting whenever she was with him? Emotional involvement with Grady could be a disaster.
HE WAS WAITING OUTSIDE THE DOOR as naked as when she'd left him when she opened the bathroom door thirty minutes later. "You locked the door."
"I wanted privacy."
"And you're backing away from me."
She stared him in the eye. "Yes. You're a bit overwhelming. I don't need to have an emotional overload right now. According to that damn Tribunal Report, it's also a Listener characteristic to have intense and volatile emotions. But even if I believed that bull, I don't have to give into them."
"No, you don't." He smiled. "But, on the other hand, you could look upon me as therapy to take the edge off. I'll cheerfully volunteer for the role."
The intensity was gone, but the charisma that had captured all those years ago was in full force. He was standing there, naked, totally at ease and so damn beautiful that she couldn't stop staring at him. With an effort she pulled her gaze away. "I'm not taking volunteers. I won't be distracted, Grady."
"And I won't stop trying." He passed her and went into the bathroom. "It was too good. A little distraction is good for the soul. I'll be out in thirty minutes. Harley should be here by then." The door closed behind him.
She drew a deep breath. Stepping away from Grady obviously wasn't going to be easy. It didn't surprise her. Nothing about their relationship had been easy from the very beginning.
Keep busy. She opened her suitcase and pulled out an outfit and began to dress. Move forward on Molino and the Ledger and Grady would become too focused to think about "distracting" her. That was what was important to both of them and Grady had been obsessed for years before she had even known it existed. Yes, get things back on a normal, even keel, and she would be able to rid herself of this confused mixture of emotion and lust.
She would go to the little kitchen adjoining the living room and make coffee. She pushed her feet into loafers and opened the bedroom door. By that time Harley should be here and they would be able to-
"I've already put the coffee on. It should be ready in a few minutes."
Megan stopped short, her eyes widening.
Renata Wilger was lounging in the easy chair by the window, one jean-clad leg thrown over the arm. "Though I was wondering if you'd ever come out of that bedroom. You didn't tell me you and Grady were lovers."
"We're not. It just… happened." She frowned. "What are you doing here?" She vaguely remembered Grady locking the door after they left the kitchen for the bedroom. "How did you get in?"
"I picked the lock. It was too easy. You're lucky that it was me and not Molino." She stood up. "Come on. Let's get that coffee. Harley should be here soon and I came to talk to you and not him or Grady."
"Why only me?" She followed her into the kitchen. "Why not Grady?"
"You're family. I trust family." Renata went to the coffeemaker on the counter and poured the liquid into two cups she'd set in readiness. "Trust Grady if you like. I suppose it's hard not to trust someone you've gone to bed with. If you trust them with your body, I guess it goes along with the territory."
"Not necessarily. But I do trust Grady." She took the cup Renata handed her. "But if you mean I'm part of the Devanez family, I didn't even know they existed until a few days ago. I can't claim to have any family feeling for any of you."
"You have a feeling for Edmund. And the bond is there. We're the same blood." She looked at Megan over the rim of her cup. "And I think you do have a feeling of family. You can't help it. It's been bred in us for centuries."
"Last night you didn't seem to think I was particularly worthy of trust," she said dryly. "You wouldn't even tell us where you were staying."
She smiled faintly. "I knew you'd find out from the bug Harley planted on me."
"You knew he planted it?"
"I'm not unskilled in this sort of thing. My cousin, Mark, has been training me since I was a youngster. The question was, what you would do with the information once he found out where I was holed up. Would I be raided by Molino? Would I be paid a visit by your Grady? He wants the Ledger and he strikes me as being very ruthless."
"He can be." She frowned. "This was some kind of test?"
She shrugged. "I had to be sure. If you just watched and waited, then I would be able to trust you."
"And if we were the bad guys, then you'd have put yourself in danger."
She shook her head. "I was ready for you." She smiled as she took another sip of coffee. "What I wasn't expecting was having to wait here while you and Grady indulged in fun and games." She glanced around the kitchen. "I had to put all the chairs back around the table before I made coffee."
Megan could feel the heat flush her cheeks. She changed the subject. "How did you know where to find us?"
"I used a device to tap Harley's cell phone through the nearest tower. I thought he'd contact you."
"And how did you get out of your cottage without Harley seeing you?"
"There's a root cellar in the cottage that leads to a passage down the hill."
"You could have just told him you were coming here."
"I could." Her eyes were suddenly twinkling. "But I wanted him to have egg on his face. He's too sure of himself for my taste. He thinks that his little bug is going to keep me firmly in view."
"You still haven't told me why you've come." She paused. "Will you let us use the Ledger?"
Renata shook her head. "But I'll let you use me."
"What?"
"The chances are that Molino knows that Edmund gave me the Ledger. He sent Falbon after me. If you back away, pretend you haven't found me. He'll think I still have the Ledger and go after me the way he did Edmund."
"My God, Renata."
"I'll have to send the Ledger to someone safe in case something goes wrong. I've already chosen my replacement. Edmund told me I had to do it when he gave me the ledger."
"Your cousin, Mark?"
She shook her head. "No, but I wouldn't tell you anyway. It doesn't matter if I trust you. This is the Ledger. But once it's safe, you can use me."
"No," she said flatly. "I won't stake you out and let Molino have his chance at you. I went through that with Edmund."
"And I won't let Molino live after what he did to Edmund. It was only a matter of time anyway. He's been quietly murdering anyone with psychic ability he's been able to track down for years. Two years ago, a young woman in Arizona was a hit-and-run. Last year, a young boy in Orlando was drowned in a lake. I'm not even sure that Molino knew they were Devanez. They were freaks and that was all he cared about. Lord knows how many deaths can be laid at his door." Her grasp tightened on her cup. "But I know exactly how many deaths, he'll be able to cause if he gets his hands on the Ledger."
"Then for God's sake, destroy it," Megan said fiercely. "If he can't find the people listed in the Ledger, he can't hurt them. Don't let one book cause all this misery."
"I can't. Do you think it's some kind of outdated tradition that keeps us maintaining the Ledger? Some of the people in that book don't even realize they're part of the family. We try to leave them alone to live their lives. But some have talents they can't control that bewilder them. Some will develop talents later and we have to have someone there to help them." She paused. "And some will have to be saved from the Molinos of the world. Do you think he's the first monster to go after the Ledger? They've always been hovering on the horizon. That Tribunal Report was public record for centuries. By most people it was considered an example of the wild tales the Inquisitors brought from the mouths of their victims. But there were others…" She put her cup down on the counter. "Did you know my great-grandfather was in Auschwitz?"
Megan nodded. "Religious persecution?"
"No, he might have ended up there anyway, but he was sent to Auschwitz to be interrogated. Hitler and the entire Nazi party were founded on the occult. He had his own astrologers and fortune tellers. Even the Nazi symbols harkened back to esoteric traditions from the Scottish Masons and Knights Templars and other societies; the swastika, the eagle, the red, black, and white color scheme. Hitler himself believed he was the chosen one of the 'Superiors' who endowed him with uncanny hypnotic power." She paused. "But he was also absolutely convinced of the coming of a new race of supermen. He expected them to be a mutation of homo sapiens just by arriving at the higher level of consciousness. That's why he was so obsessed with the so-called purity of the Aryan race."
"I've read about his attempt to form a master race."
"Then you can imagine how overjoyed he was when he came across the copy of the Tribunal Report. It meant that he didn't have to wait for evolution to take place. He could create his own supermen. It fostered his image of himself as being godlike. He was going to find the least offensive members of the Devanez family and breed them with his blue-eyed Aryan favorites. He'd use the talents of others in the family to make his dictatorship invulnerable." She shook her head. "He was even willing to risk the purity of the blood to breed mental supermen. Of course, it meant he had to find them. So he sent Himmler on a witch hunt to track down any stories of anyone with psychic abilities and try to trace their lineage back to the family. Himmler found documents that led him to my greatgrandfather Henrich Schneider." Her lips twisted. "Unfortunately, he was no good to Hitler as a stud. He was a Jew and that made him too polluted to risk contamination. But there was a chance that he'd know where other, more acceptable, psychics could be found. He arrested him and his entire family and sent him to Auschwitz. The interrogators killed his wife and two children before his eyes because he refused to tell him about the location of the Ledger."
"Dear God."
"He didn't know where it was. He wasn't the Keeper. He underwent years of starvation and torture. When he was released from the camp at the end of the war, he was in such poor condition he died four months later. But during the war years we were able to smuggle most of the Devanez family out of Germany to safety. Six hundred and twenty-five people crossed the borders and were settled in other countries." She added deliberately, "Because we had their names and where they were located. Because we had the Ledger. There will always be Torquemadas and Molinos and Hitlers in the world. We just have to be ready for them." She lifted her cup. "So that we can crush the bastards like cockroaches."
"It appears you've been running from those cockroaches."
She shrugged. "You're right; I have a problem with that too. I promised Edmund I wouldn't risk the Ledger. I'll keep my promise." She added, "But I won't let Molino live after what he did to Edmund. So use me to trap the son of a bitch." No.
"Think about it." She set the cup on the counter. "I'll give you a day or two to change your mind. You know where to find me."
"If you don't decide to scurry out the root cellar again," Harley said from behind Megan. "I let myself in after waiting a discreet amount of time. She obviously wanted to talk to you without an audience." He looked from Renata to Megan. "Are you finished with your discussion? I'll escort her back to her cottage."
Renata tilted her head. "You knew about the root cellar?"
"Most of these cottages have root cellars. I checked with the landlord who rented me this cottage and he told me that your rental was very interesting. That's why I set up shop in a spot where I could watch the front door and the tunnel exit."
"That was very clever of you," she said slowly.
"I have my moments." He glanced at Megan. "You didn't answer me."
"I believe Renata has said all she wants to say."
"Then I'll take her home. I don't think you'll have to ask Grady to watch her cottage. It wouldn't do much good. I went inside the cottage after I saw her come here and she has enough hi-tech equipment and weapons to rival James Bond."
Megan's brows lifted. "Cousin Mark?"
"Of course," Renata said simply. "He believes in being prepared for any eventuality. He's been training me since my parents died."
"Training you to guard the Ledger?"
"And to survive scumbags like Molino." She headed for the front door. "I contacted Mark last night after I reached the cottage and asked him to try to find out who Molino might use now that Falbon is dead." She opened the door. "Molino will probably be eager and moving fast now." She glanced back at Megan. "Speed can cause mistakes. He'd jump at getting his hands on me. We have an opportunity."
Megan shook her head. "I won't risk you."
Renata shook her head in exasperation. "You don't understand. I want this."
Megan shook her head again.
"Stubborn." She was silent a moment. "I'd feel… touched by your concern if it wasn't getting in the way. No one has tried to protect me for a long time." She crooked her finger at Harley. "If you're coming, let's go. And if you try to go in my cottage again when I'm not there, you'll get an unpleasant surprise. Booby traps are easy to rig. I didn't give you warning before, but you have it now."
"Duly noted." Harley moved after her. "Megan, I'll be back in a few minutes."
Megan watched the door swing shut behind them.
Dammit, Renata was being difficult as the devil. She had called Megan stubborn, but the woman was just as obstinate. She wanted everything her way and she wasn't about to listen to reason.
And Renata's way would put her squarely into Molino's path. Why wouldn't she let Megan and Grady have the Ledger to use as a decoy instead of her? Life was precious.
Yet Megan was beginning to understand the passion that drove her. The story she had told her about her great-grandfather's death at Auschwitz had shone a light on the persecution and need for self-preservation that had driven the Devanez family for centuries. They had saved hundreds of lives because they had kept accurate records in the ledger. What other stories of sacrifice and salvation existed in the history of the book? Renata probably knew them all. She had lived and breathed the Devanez family from childhood. Edmund had died for the Ledger. It had not been an idealistic abstract concept to him. He had wanted to save lives and the Ledger was the key.
"You're frowning. What's wrong?"
She looked up to see Grady standing in the doorway. His dark hair was wet from the shower and he looked lean and tough in jeans and a dark green shirt. She felt a little jolt of pleasure as she saw him. He hadn't been out of her sight for much more than the thirty minutes he'd told her he'd be and she was feeling this response. "Renata paid us a visit." She turned and got him a cup down from the cabinet. "Sit down and I'll tell you about it."