Free Closer: A Novella by Dannika Dark Page B

serious voice.
    When Kane leaned forward, he tested her mouth with a brush of his lips. The moment they touched, tiny sparks ignited across her body and a surge of desire swelled inside her. His tongue stroked her bottom lip and then he suddenly stopped. They were a breath apart, staring at one another. The tension was electric and she swallowed nervously, looking at the man she had just met. A man she was contemplating kissing inside her head. Was she nuts? Then again, what did it really matter? It’s not as if any of this was real, and God, how she wanted to run her fingers through his hair and tangle it.
    “Sorry,” he said in a heated voice, averting his eyes.
    The moment was crushed like a cigarette beneath a dirty boot. Carrie traced her finger along her lower lip. Maybe he changed his mind because I’m not normal , she thought. It wouldn’t have been the first time, and maybe that was nothing more than a pity kiss.
    She snapped back and spoke in an accusatory tone. “Will you at least call someone to get my body when I die?”
    His face paled and a moment later, Kane was gone.
    ***
     
    Kane ran across the house into the kitchen and swung the fridge door open to look for a beer. Anything to dull the guilt. A bottle of ketchup tipped over in the door and the cold air made the hairs on his arms rise up. Reality slammed into him like a hard fist—if he didn’t hurry his ass up and figure something out, this girl was going to die. Who was he kidding? Not even a Relic could save her in that condition, but it didn’t make him feel any less shitty for not trying. Caroline’s comment wasn’t a request; it was an accusation that he was doing nothing to help her.
    Loud voices in the living room almost made him leap out of his socks. When he peered around the corner, he blew out a slow breath. The television was on an automatic timer. The clock on the microwave was blinking five in the morning and he was in the house of a serial killer. Kane wiped his bicep across his forehead, holding it steady for a few minutes while he closed his eyes and regained composure.
    His throat was dry so he flipped on the faucet and filled a clean glass with water that tasted of chlorine. Three swallows polished off the glass and he set it in the sink, listening to his stomach growl like an animal. Here he was, wishing that a medium steak would appear. Meanwhile, that poor girl was suffering from a head injury.
    Spatters of blood on his shirt caught his attention when he brushed a hand over them. A faint red glow emanated from his fingertips. The stains were dark and hardly noticeable, but his hands lit up on contact. That was part of his Sensor abilities; when they picked up strong emotions, there was an energy glow. The emotional content of the murder was all over him and Kane shuddered, wanting to strip out of his shirt. He began polishing the handles of everything he’d touched, knowing that his imprints were all over the house. Fingerprints, hairs, molecules, emotions.
    Jesus .
    On his way back to the bedroom, he stopped cold in his tracks. A blond news anchor with heavy mascara spoke in rushed words about an unidentified body found in an alley. They had a police sketch on the screen and provided a number to call with any information. Time was not about to hang out, have a few drinks, and be on his side. How could he check up on his little sis and send her money if he was locked up in Breed jail? He already felt like a shitty older brother too. He hadn’t visited Sunny in over a year and had even missed her last birthday, which was a first.
    Kane went back into the bedroom and patted Caroline’s cheek.
    “Enough of this. I want you to open your eyes and look at me. Caroline, can you hear me in there?”
    His fingers tested the wound on her head. The bone didn’t feel crushed, but there could be a crack or bleeding inside that he couldn’t see. Why the fuck hadn’t he become a doctor? It wasn’t an uncommon profession among