Celtic Dragons Page 9

  “Hello?”

  “Your girlfriend is in prison for assault. Thought you’d want to know.”

  Siobhan hung up on him after delivering her missive, and for a moment, Kean just sat there, the phone still at his ear. Dhara? Assault? He had to have heard her wrong—right? He had to have.

  Standing up, Kean looked down at his mother, still stunned. “Mom, I have to go.”

  She looked up, meeting his eyes. “Be careful, Kean. Of your heart and of your responsibilities.”

  He knew what she meant, and there was no point in discussing it any further. Dhara needed him, and that was all that mattered right now. “I love you, Mom,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “I’ll call you later.”

  As she watched, he hurried into the house, grabbed his things, and ran out the front door, heading straight for the police precinct.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Dhara

  It was impossible that she was sitting in a county prison cell on a Saturday night, facing charges of assault. Dhara couldn’t comprehend it, even sitting there on the cold, steel bench, an overweight woman in a pair of daisy dukes and a tube top on one side of her and a man with a beer gut, a bald head, and a bruise flowering around one eye on her other side. Still dressed in her low heels, black dress pants, blouse, and blazer, she stuck out like a sore thumb, and there had already been a lot of taunting from those locked up with her—and the police officers too.

  She was sitting on the bench, gently rocking back and forth, trying to focus on anything other than where she was. And then she heard his voice.

  Kean!

  Dhara was on her feet in an instant, crossing the cell, her hands wrapping around the bars as she searched for any glimpse of him. She had called his office with her one phone call, desperate for someone—anyone—to come to her. The woman who had answered had only said that she would send help. She hadn’t said it would be Kean. But that was his voice—Dhara would know it anywhere.

  “Dhara?” He appeared around the corner, his eyes immediately locking on hers. Striding toward her, he reached his own hands out to wrap around hers on the bars. “Are you okay?”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “No. Get me out of here. Please.”

  “I am,” he promised her, leaning his forehead against the bars, his face close to hers. “It’s going to be okay.”

  “That’s what you told me before,” she whispered, both desperately glad to see him and still so angry with him.

  The officer, who was walking more slowly behind Kean, finally reached the lock on the door, the loud, clicking sound such a relief to Dhara that she almost cried. Instead, she pushed the door open, ignoring the catcalls of the remaining prisoners behind her as she stepped back into freedom.

  “No charges,” the officer told her, clearly not happy about the fact. “But try to keep your hands to yourself from now on, huh?”

  Dhara nodded. “Yes. Thank you. I’m sorry. Thank you. Excuse me.”

  Kean hurried her away before she could say anything else, getting her out onto the sidewalk just as the sun was setting. Dhara looked around her, unsure what to do next. Should she walk away from him without a word? Thank him for his help, but politely inform him that she wanted nothing to do with him? Beg him to fix her life? Fall into his arms and demand that he never walk out on her again?

  None of them seemed like viable options, so when he flagged down a cab and nudged her to get inside, she simply did.

  “Where are you taking me?” she asked Kean, after he gave the driver an address she didn’t recognize.

  “My place.”

  Her eyes widened, and she moved away from him in the backseat of the car. “I don’t think so.”

  “Dhara …”

  “No,” she said, finally getting some of her common sense back. “No. Thank you for helping me get out of there, but that doesn’t mean that everything is all right between us.”

  His face was so sad when he looked at her that she was almost moved. “I wouldn’t presume that it is. Would you prefer to go back to the hotel? I thought that might be strange.”

  “Stranger than your place?” she retorted. “And no. I don’t want to go back there with you either.”

  “Then where? I’m not letting you just walk away without figuring out what happened.”

  His words hit a little too close to home. “No, that would be your gig, wouldn’t it?”

  Her retort landed exactly as she intended. Pain and regret flickered over his face, but he didn’t lash back out at her. Clearly, he knew that he had messed up the night before, which only made his actions that much more confusing. She didn’t think that he was the kind of man who would purposefully hurt her or anyone else, so what the hell had happened between them last night?

  “I still want to help you,” he told her quietly. “I may be the only person who can. Will you let me do that?”

  There had never been any doubt in her mind that she needed help, but she was even more convinced now, after what she had experienced outside of her house. For those moments, she had been utterly out of control, emotions that appeared from nowhere reigning over her, images flitting in and out of her head beyond her control. It had been terrifying, and the only good part about being behind bars had been the assurance—false or not—that nothing could reach her there. She was afraid to be alone, afraid to go to the hotel, afraid to be anywhere near her house, and afraid that what Kean had warned her about the night before was coming true.

  “Dhara …”

  “Listen, if you don’t want to go to the address you gave me, you’d better speak up,” the cabbie said, interrupting them. “I need clear directions here.”

  Dhara pressed her lips together, then glanced at Kean. “The agency offices then. Not your place.”

  He nodded, seeming grateful that she was going to give him a chance, and gave the driver that address instead. They did a quick U-turn and spent the entire ride in silence, Dhara on her side of the car and Kean on his.

  When they arrived at the agency, Kean led her inside, unlocking the door and turning on the lights. “You realize there won’t be anyone here,” he told her. “Nobody’s working from the office at eight o’clock on a Saturday night.”

  “That’s fine,” she said, taking a seat in one of the waiting-area chairs, not even willing to go back to his office. “We can still sit here and talk. I guess someone from your office called you.”

  He nodded, sitting across from her, the tension between them now as thick as their chemistry had been just days before. “Yeah. Siobhan took your call, I guess. She let me know. I’m glad that you did call us, Dhara. What …happened?”

  Looking away from him—she couldn’t handle such direct eye contact—Dhara resigned herself to telling the story that she herself didn’t understand. “I went to the house.”

  “Dhara!”

  His tone was so astonished and disapproving that it grated on her frayed nerves. “What?” she demanded, snapping her head back so she could glare at him. “I couldn’t just do nothing, Kean! You came by last night, dropped the bombshell on me that it’s not the house but me instead, then decided to seduce me and run out in the middle of it. I hadn’t heard from you all day, not that I would have answered your call, but you could have at least tried. What was I supposed to do, exactly? Live indefinitely in a hotel and hope that I didn’t get possessed by a force I’m not even sure I believe in? That’s a fantastic plan, isn’t it? Just downright fantastic.”

  He let her rant until she was finished, watching her impassively the whole time. When he was sure she was done, he nodded. “Okay, I deserve that.”

  The lack of fight in his voice took the wind out of her sails, and it sounded almost ridiculous when she snapped back at him. “Damn right you do.”

  “I’m not arguing.”

  “Fine, then.”

  “Okay.”

  They stared at each other for a moment, then Dhara threw her hands up in the air. “You’re infuriating!
You don’t even fight right! How am I supposed to give you what’s coming to you when you help me do it?”

  A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “I’m sorry?”

  “For what?” she asked, not smiling back at him. She wasn’t ready yet. “Which part are you sorry for, Kean?”

  His own smile disappeared completely, his face utterly sober. “For all of it. I’m so sorry for all of it, Dhara. I wish I could explain to you why I ran out yesterday. I desperately, desperately want to. But I’m not sure I can—maybe ever. And I don’t blame you for hating me for that. All I can do is ask you to trustthat I didn’t run out because I was rejecting you, because I don’t respect you, or because I wanted to be anywhere other than right where I was.”

  It was asking a lot, but Dhara inexplicably found herself wanting to do what he asked. She couldn’t understand, for the life of her, why. “Why should I?” she asked, determined not to just give in because he was handsome, charming, and potentially held the answers that would save her life.

  “Because I’m not a bad person,” he said, looking into her eyes. “And I hope that you know that, even after spending just a few days with me. I hope it’s obvious and that it’s enough to convince you to give me the benefit of the doubt.”

  “Why can’t you tell me why you left?”

  He shook his head, his palms sliding along his thighs. “I just can’t. It’s …kind of like classified information.”

  Her eyebrows shot up, and her arms crossed over her amble chest. “The reason you jumped out of my bed mid-encounter and fled my room without half of your clothing in place is …classified?”

  “I know it’s difficult to believe, but yes. It is.”

  Dhara rolled her eyes. “It’s not just difficult to believe. It’s practically impossible. In fact, I feel like there are things you keep not telling me. Can you tell me anything at all?” She leaned forward, watching him. “For instance, why did you change clothes in my house that first day you were there? How about telling me that?”

  “I can’t.”

  “But you admit that you did,” Dhara said, standing up and beginning to pace the room. “You lied and told me you hadn’t, but now you admit that you did. You just won’t tell me why. And you can’t tell me why you did what you did last night. But you want me to trust you just because you say so.”

  There was silence for a long moment as he sat there, head in his hands, and she stood with her back to him, glaring at the picture of all five agents that adorned the wall in front of her. She was about to tell him she couldn’t do any of this when he spoke, his voice tight.

  “What if …I give you something. I will tell you something. Not everything. But something as a show of good faith.”

  She turned back toward him, studying his face as he looked up at her. “Really?”

  “Yes.” Standing up, he crossed the room, taking her hands in his. “There’s something between us, Dhara. I’ve never even contemplated doing this with anyone before, but there’s something in me that knows I can trust you. I want you to feel the same way about me, and it’s only fair that I offer you some reason for it.” He pressed her fingers gently. “Before you answer, keep in mind that if you slap me and run away—which I’m not saying you’re not entitled to do—you’re on your own, and it’s not safe for you out there. You need me to help you. I need to help you.”

  “Tell me,” she said quietly. “Unless it’s …a crime or something terrible …I won’t ever tell a soul.”

  He smiled tightly. “Well, I can’t promise you that it’s legal.” Taking a deep breath, he released her hands and put some space between them, leaning his back against the wall as though he had to brace himself. “I’m not giving you any details. You understand?”

  She nodded. “Yes. Okay.”

  “I …am not strictly …human.”

  Dhara didn’t understand, and she frowned at him, shaking her head. “What?”

  “I am not strictly human,” he repeated, staring into her eyes. “I’m partially human. Sometimes. When I choose to be. But sometimes I am …paranormal.”

  “No, you’re not,” Dhara said, taking a step back from him. “No, Kean. You’re not.”

  He said nothing, just letting her sit with the information he had given her.

  “You’re not,” she repeated, holding up her hands and letting out a laugh that contained no humor. “That’s impossible. What are you expecting me to believe? That you’re a ghost? A spirit? Are you some sort of …Jinn? A vampire? This is insane, Kean. It’s been nothing since insanity since I moved to this stupid city. The house. You. I’ve been arrested. Clearly, Boston is not where I’m supposed to be.”

  Standing up, Kean walked slowly toward her, but now she wondered if it was more of a stalk than a walk. When he reached her, he took her face in his hands, staring into her eyes. “You do belong here, Dhara. Because somehow you’re connected to me, and I don’t know why. There are so many things that I want to tell you. What I’ve told you already is something that I’ve never spoken to any other person who isn’t like me.”

  “There are others?”

  “Shhh,” he chided, stroking his thumb along her cheek. “Trust me, Dhara. Please. I’ll never hurt you.”

  She wanted so badly to believe him, but her whole body was shaking as he touched her. She didn’t know if it was remnants of what had overtaken her earlier on the sidewalk outside of her house or a reaction to him or maybe just the way that she was now. But as she tried to steady herself, she relaxed her thoughts, and when she did, she got another flash of images.

  It was like looking through the eye of a bird as it flew over Boston, then out over the ocean. There was a sense of power that she couldn’t explain, and she could almost sense the wind rushing over wings she couldn’t see. She didn’t know where she was or what was happening to her, but she knew it had to do with Kean, and she knew that felt right. Peaceful. Safe. Happy.

  “What?” he whispered. “What’s going on?”

  “I saw something,” she whispered back, looking up at him as her vision cleared. “I was flying. Over the ocean.”

  “What did it feel like?”

  “It felt like I was with you.”

  He smiled sadly, but confirmed nothing. “Trust me, Dhara? Please?”

  This time she nodded, not knowing if she was making the right decision but somehow unable to make any other. “Yes,” she agreed. “Okay. I trust you.”

  Pulling her into his arms, Kean held her close, his grip so tight that it almost took her breath away. She held him, too, pressing her face against his shoulder, and as she did, she tried to accept the fact that there was something about him that could not be explained by any science or fact or reason. There was something about him that was supernatural. Different. Paranormal. What it was, she had no idea,but she had decided to accept it, just as she had decided to accept that there were spirits living inside of her house or inside of her head.

  This was her world now. His world. And like it or not, she was fully immersed in it.

  He pulled back from her, touching her cheek lightly. “Thank you,” he said. Then, before he could respond, he looked up over her head and his face paled.

  Confused, Dhara turned around to see what he was seeing, and she saw the man who had kept her company before standing there. The quiet man who was so pale. His name …she would remember it in a moment.

  “Eamon,” she said, the name coming to her finally. “Hi. We didn’t realize you were here.”

  The icy-blond man glanced at her, nodding briefly. “Clearly.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Kean

  The sight of Eamon standing there, clearly having overheard part, if not all, of his conversation with Dhara knocked the wind out of Kean. He had just broken the most sacred rule of his clan by telling Dhara what he had, even if he hadn’t given her any details. All of them were at risk if Dhara couldn’t be trusted, and none of them had any reason to trust Dhara. The only reason he ha
d was sheer instinct.

  “Eamon…” Kean said, stepping around Dhara, toward the man who might as well have been his brother.

  “My office,” Eamon said, stepping aside to let Kean walk down the hallway first.

  Kean turned toward Dhara, touching her arm. “Go to my office and wait for me, okay? Promise me that you won’t leave. I won’t be long.”

  She was clearly confused, but she nodded, glancing back and forth between Kean and Eamon. “All right.”

  “Thank you,” he said, walking with her down the hall and dropping her off at his office door. When he had closed the door after her, he walked into Eamon’s office, not knowing what might be waiting for him there. Eamon was a man of a very few words. He was levelheaded, calm, rational,but when he got angry, he took no survivors. He wouldn’t attack Kean—not physically—but he might do any number of other things, including report Kean to Ronan, who had the authority to banish Kean if he chose.

  Eamon was already sitting down at his desk when Kean walked in, and he gestured for Kean to sit across from him. “Explain,” Eamon suggested, once Kean had taken his seat. “Quickly.”

  “How much did you hear?” Kean asked, not wanting to reveal more than he had to.

  “Enough.”

  That was as good an answer as Kean was going to get, and he knew that he had to come clean, throwing himself on Eamon’s mercy. “She’s different,” he said. “I don’t know how to explain it, but she is. I had to get her to trust me because last night I destroyed her trust. We were in bed together, and I started to transition. It was out of my control. I had to run out of the room—I left her behind. Rejected. Confused. Cold. Alone. She was never going to forgive me.”

  “That’s worth thousands of years of secrecy?”

  Kean winced, the judgement in Eamon’s voice clear. “Her life is at stake. I didn’t tell her anything other than that there’s a paranormal aspect to me. I didn’t tell her about us. About what we are. About how we work. She’s not going to say anything to anyone. She doesn’t even really believe in this sort of thing.”