Demon Wolf. Bonnie Vanak
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Название: Demon Wolf
Автор: Bonnie Vanak
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
isbn: 9781472050793
isbn:
A note was pinned to the refrigerator. She read it aloud.
“‘We can’t thank you enough for what you did for our son. Because of you, Josh is celebrating his seventh birthday. You are a true hero. Josh drew this picture of you and we thought you’d like to have it.’”
She turned and saw him quietly watching her.
“You keep this on your fridge. So you must believe in some good in people. Helping people isn’t wrong. Look at how you saved this little boy.”
Dale’s mouth tightened. “For every Josh I manage to save, or my team manages to save, there’s four more the monsters get to first. That’s what keeps me up at night.”
This brave man, who’d sacrificed himself to save children, had suffered greatly, still suffered. All my fault, she thought, the hollow ache in her chest intensifying.
She must make amends.
Keira went into her bedroom and cupped the small white crystal in her palms. Dale had given so much for others. This was one small act she could do for him.
When she returned, he was standing at the sink, looking out the window, into the dark. She placed the stone in his hands.
“Put this by your bedside, near your head. The crystal’s white light will chase away bad energy and help you sleep. I promise it. It’s worked for me.”
Her fingers brushed against his strong, calloused ones. Dale’s masculine scent of citrus and pine teased her nostrils.
“What about you?”
She shrugged. “Cake. And if that doesn’t work, at least I’ll enjoy the remedy.”
Dale smiled. “Thanks. Good night.”
Keira watched him walk away, the stone clutched tight in his palm.
* * *
Upstairs, Dale placed Keira’s stone on his nightstand.
He cracked open a book, but could not concentrate. There was no peace at night. He would power up the laptop and surf the internet, check emails, read reports or sometimes would read one of the well-worn books he loved.
The bottles of prescription sleep aids sat untouched in his medicine chest. He refused to take them. Sinking into a deep sleep meant risking vulnerability, slowing his reaction time if he were attacked.
Always, there was a bedside lamp burning.
Some nights, he would lie down and close his eyes and breathe deeply, and drift into a peaceful sleep. And then the nightmares would begin.
They were varied, but threaded through all was a common theme. He was strapped down with heavy chains in the dark basement, listening to the sound of his blood dripping on the floor, wanting to submit to death. And then he’d heard screams, a child’s screams. Little Josh, crying for his dad as the demons giggled and took him to the basement. Then a terrible silence. More footsteps and another child’s screams as the demons hauled them, one by one, to the basement to die. And he struggled in the grip of the chains, helpless to stop their deaths, their shrill screams punctuating the air over and over....
And Keira wanted to practice her New Age mojo on him? He was beyond magick stones and chants, especially if it meant giving up control.
Drowsiness engulfed him, but this time he did not fight it.
Dale closed his eyes and surrendered. And dreamed.
Not of dark basements and crying, terrified children, but a white room filled with white light, and an eggshell-white bed, soft as lamb’s wool.
Keira lay upon the bed, her long dark curls spread across a bank of downy pillows.
She wore a sheer white nightgown that clung to her generous curves and rode up nearly to her thigh, showing the shapely angle of her calf. Soft as the bed itself, and the pure light pulsing through the room, chasing away every single dark shadow.
No demons here.
Eyes of green sparkled with seductive promise. So sweet and pretty.
“I want you,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t, but I can’t resist.”
“Take off your gown.”
He barely recognized his rough voice, harsh with command. Dale gripped the bedpost, watching as she tugged the fabric over her head and tossed it aside.
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