Claimed by the Immortal

The quiet was welcome and pierced only by the crunch of feet on the fresh snowfall and an occasional voice. With a sigh, Caro let go of some tight restraint within herself, opening a place she usually kept fairly shuttered. The world was suddenly alight with the auras of the people they passed. Beautiful auras for the most part, although the colors in some made her uncomfortable, and others worried her a bit.

That woman might be sick. That man is thinking something ugly. The rainbow colors seemed to speak to her at a level below conscious thought. But how could she be sure her interpretations were correct?

Prodded to find out, she walked over to the woman whose aura dimmed in the region of her heart. “Ma’am, are you feeling all right?”

The woman, who appeared to be about fifty, seemed startled, then said, “Actually, I’m not really feeling well. Do I look sick?”

Caro hesitated only a moment, then took the risk. “You look ill. Can you get to a doctor? Do you need me to help you?”

“I’m awfully tired,” the woman said with a wan smile. “I feel as if I’m walking uphill. I think I’ll just go home and rest.”

But having gone this far, Caro decided to let her view of the woman’s aura guide her. “I think I should call an ambulance.”

At that the woman panicked. “I don’t have insurance. I can’t pay for that! No, don’t call anybody. I’ll just go home and rest.”

She hurried past Caro, but as Caro watched, she could see that after a few steps the woman started lagging again.

“What’s that about?” Chloe asked, keeping her voice down.

“Something in her aura. I don’t know if it’s her heart or what, but something’s not right.”

Chloe looked after the woman. “I wish I could see that. But if she won’t take help, what can you do?”

“Nothing without a reason,” Caro admitted. More than most people, she was aware that even touching another person was battery, and if she called an ambulance and the woman objected, nothing would get done anyway.

“But you’re worried,” Chloe said.

“Very. I just wish I knew exactly what was worrying me.” Then she had an idea. Shoving her hand into her pocket, she pulled out a ten-dollar bill. “Do you have any cash?”

“I think so. What for?”

“Maybe she’ll let us call her a cab to take her to Mercy. Their E.R. treats everyone whether they have insurance or not.”

Chloe brightened. “Great idea.” She snatched the money from Caro’s hand. “Let me do it. I think you weirded her out enough for one day.”

While Chloe ran after the woman, Caro stood waiting and watching. She probably had weirded out that woman, she thought. In a major way. If it saved her from a serious health problem, that was okay, but what if she was misinterpreting the woman’s aura? Regardless, she hadn’t managed to learn a thing about her powers yet. Nothing she could begin to rely on.

Then in a single instant, two things happened. First she realized she was suddenly all alone on this street. Chloe disappeared around the corner after the woman and there wasn’t another soul in sight.

Then her skin began to crawl almost as if it were covered with ants. She wasn’t alone, for all she couldn’t see another soul. Something was there, watching, threatening.

And it seemed to be touching her.

A momentary panic fluttered her heart, but years as a cop had told her how to take that and turn it into something useful. She stood frozen, perfectly still, and since she didn’t know what else to do, she used every ounce of will she had to drive the sensation away.

Despite the chill, sweat broke out on her brow as if she were making a huge physical effort. Willpower. She was accustomed to using it to make herself do difficult things, but she had never thought of it as something capable of driving away an external force. But what else did she have as a tool?

She envisioned her will as a tangible thing, to be focused on and strengthened with every bit of her being. Driving away all other thoughts, she focused on the strength within her and used it to send a mental blast: get away!

Instantly, the crawling sensation vanished, although not the feeling of being watched. Before she could test what she had accomplished any further, she heard the rapid pounding of footsteps and Chloe calling out, “Are you all right?”

She opened her eyes and saw Chloe racing up. “Fine. I’m fine. Just for a minute there I felt...attacked. How’s the woman?”

“She took the cab to the hospital. I made the driver promise not to take her anywhere else. But...I felt something, too, Caro. What was it?”

“I don’t know. That elemental maybe. I pushed it back.”

Chloe’s dark-rimmed eyes widened. “You did?” Then she let out a yip. “Yes!”

Caro almost smiled. “Hold on there. I’m not sure I did it.”

“I bet you did!” But then Chloe’s grin faded. “We have to go back now. Frankly, I don’t want to face either Jude or Damien if anything happens to you. You got your test run—now be sensible.”

Caro couldn’t argue and, truthfully, she didn’t want to. She’d learned something out here, and now she needed time to think about it and try to figure out what it meant. Clearly out here on the street, gris-gris notwithstanding, she was subject to at least minor attacks.

Nodding to Chloe, she turned and they took the shortest path back to the office.

Chapter 9

“You did what?”

Caro faced Damien, her feet firmly planted, and thrust out her chin. “We went for a walk. I can’t stand being caged. Besides, I wanted to try out my so-called powers.”

“Something may have attacked her,” Chloe said unhelpfully. “But she fought it off.”

Damien unleashed a string of what sounded like German, and it certainly sounded like a bunch of curse words. One or two of them, Caro thought she almost recognized. Like Scheisse or something close to it.

“Relax,” Jude said, sounding amused. “She’s still with us, isn’t she?”

“Relax?” Damien thundered. “After what happened to the Pritchetts, how am I supposed to relax? She could have died while I was dead!”

The statement struck Caro as absurd. Died while he was dead? It sounded so ludicrous that she couldn’t quite stifle a giggle. He glared at her.

But even as part of her recognized the absurd in his statement, another part of her realized why he was so frustrated. He’d devoted himself, willingly or not, to protecting her, and during the hours when he’d been unable to do so, she’d taken a huge risk. Of course he was angry. But she suspected the anger was self-directed at his own helplessness during daylight hours.

That understanding made her feel bad because it was something she could easily identify with. One of her biggest frustrations as a cop was being unable to prevent things from happening. She spent her life dealing with the aftermath of events that shouldn’t have happened.

She stared at Damien, taking in his explosive frustration, and offered all she could. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

“You’d better not. Damn it, I’ll handcuff you to me while I sleep if I have to.”

She believed him. But instead of getting angry at the threat, she felt an entirely unexpected shiver of pleasure, as if some part of her responded sensually to the idea of being cuffed to him.

Where had that come from? Never before had she felt the least inclination toward kinkiness. Except now she