Free Catherine Spangler - [Sentinel 02] - Touched By Fire (v5.0) (html) by Unknown Page A

this from the start. But I really need your help. Please bear with me a little longer.”
    “Not unless you promise not to zap me with any more energy.”
    “That depends. You have to promise you won’t try to knee the family jewels, bite me, pull a gun on me, or kick me. Or run without at least hearing me out.” He glanced down at his ankle, where Bryony had attached herself. “Or sic psycho dog on me.”
    “Bryony! Stop that!” She darted around the table and pried Bry away from Luke’s leg. Straightening, she realized she was mere inches from him and feeling the barrage of energy.
    How could he possibly fake a surge of sensation like that? And why did he have to have that wry, heart-twisting sense of humor? She stared into his eyes, telling herself she wouldn’t get sucked under. “Do you promise to keep your so-called powers and energies to yourself?”
    He reached out, sliding his fingers through her hair and cupping her head. Heat sizzled from her scalp to the tips of her toes and everywhere between. “I promise not to invade your mental and physical privacy, unless your safety or well being is compromised.” His fingers slid down, kneaded the knots in her neck and shoulders. She felt warmth shooting into her muscles, and the headache eased.
    He dropped his hand and stepped back. The whirlpool of sensation slowed, and she dragged air into her constricted lungs.
    “I want to take you somewhere,” he said.
    “Where?”
    “A place where the Belian was staying. I think you’ll be able to sense the energy it left behind.”
    Oh great. Now I can experience evil and darkness. “And then what?”
    “Then we’ll discuss doing a conduction.”
    She had no idea what that entailed, but thought of one of her mother’s sayings: In for a penny, in for a pound. She was already here, wherever that was. And she was pretty much at Luke’s mercy, although she was actually beginning to feel safe with him. Don’t forget about me! her throbbing body screamed. Well, except for that. She might as well see this through.
    “All right,” she said. “Let’s go.”
     
     
    MARLA held on tightly to Luke, the wind rushing past her, a hell of a lot of horsepower rumbling beneath her. She’d never been on a motorcycle before last night, which didn’t count because she barely remembered it. But this, this was elemental—wild, free, and, she had to admit—exhilarating. If she hadn’t had some serious doubts about the driver and her current situation, she would have enjoyed herself. Still she certainly couldn’t complain about what she was holding on to—two hundred pounds of pure, primal male.
    When she’d donned the helmet Luke gave her and slid onto the bike behind him, she hadn’t known where to put her hands and tentatively gripped his leather jacket. But when he revved the motor to life and wheeled down the gravel road to Highway 36, she found her hands curved around his waist, her fingers digging into some rock-hard abs. And when he took some sharp turns, she found herself pressing against his back. He felt so solid.
    Needville sat on the northern edge of Brazos Bend State Park, which incorporated a stretch of the Brazos River, various lakes, and hundreds of moss-draped live oaks. Much of Texas was rural, and this area had its share of small roads and far-spaced homes with dusty prairie stretches between them.
    Luke drove to a structure that was basically just a shack. Situated on a deserted stretch of an old FM road, the structure’s wooden slat walls were weathered and warped, the tin roof rusted. The yard was barren, more dirt than grass, no bushes or plants of any kind. Yellow crime scene tape flapped across the front of the shack.
    He powered down the motorcycle, but Marla felt a residual vibration between her legs and in her rear. She climbed off the bike, unhooked her helmet and let him take it.
    “Have the police been here?” she asked, noting the tape.
    “Yes. I notified them after I discovered