“What’s wrong with him?” Makayla asked in the background.
“I don’t know.” Clara’s answer came at about the same time he burst through the exit door.
Daniel ignored Clara’s calls to him. A force inside him pushed him forward as he stalked out of the parking lot away from the pickup truck and as far away from the school as he could manage.
Rage fueled each step and a loud banging noise filled his head. Pain pierced him with every inch of forward progress.
Somewhere in the distance he heard the faint cry of a woman but he couldn’t tell if this was a memory or if it was real, if it was today, if it was Clara. Daniel slammed the butt of his hands into his eye sockets, trying to jar loose the image of body parts scattered around the dirt. The hot day. The village. The children.
His thoughts swerved to Ruthie, to his sweet little girl.
And then an ache between his temples pounded louder and stronger until it was a steady drumbeat inside his head, so loud he thought his ears might burst.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
Blood whooshed and the drums tattooed out a steady beat against the inside of his skull.
“You have a curse. A strong curse…”
Chapter 11
“Daniel.” Clara’s voice cut through the loud banging noise inside Daniel’s head. His pulse drummed in his ears and his eyeballs hurt.
“I’m fine. Go away,” he managed to bite out but it hurt like hell to open his mouth. He was crouched down, his hands over his ears trying to block out the constant drum beat. Sweat beaded on his forehead and the backs of his eyes felt like someone had clawed at them.
“I’m just going to stay here by the fence.” Clara’s voice tethered him to reality, to the world around him instead of the one trapping him inside his thoughts.
He could feel her presence beside him as she bent down and put a hand on his shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut. Opening them felt like shards of glass stabbing his eyes.
“Go. Away.” Anger roared through Daniel.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
The never-ending rhythm off in the distance sent a ball of fire coursing through his veins.
“I’m here, Daniel.” Clara’s voice was quiet and reassuring. The last part ripped through him like a hurricane. He didn’t want anyone to be a comfort to him. It reeked of weakness and everything that disgusted him about himself. “We don’t have to talk. You don’t have to say anything. But I’m here and I’m not leaving.”
What felt like hours but was probably minutes passed. There they were. The two of them. In the quiet eye encircled by a raging storm.
Daniel couldn’t be sure how long they stayed there. When some of his anger ebbed, he said in a husky whisper, “She’ll never know what it’s like to go to her first day of middle school. High school. Prom. That was taken from her when her life was cut short.”
“Whose life, Daniel?” Using the tips of her finger, Clara made small circles on his shoulder.
“My daughter.”
Clara’s heart nearly burst at the pain she saw in Daniel as he spoke those two words. She’d had a ringside seat to people’s suffering and it always had an effect on her. This knocked the wind out of her because she read the underlying message. Daniel’s daughter—a very young girl—was gone.
“I’m so sorry,” she managed to say through blinding tears.
So many pieces clicked together in that moment.
The reason Jaden Orchard believed that Daniel would be the best man to find Ashlyn. Why Daniel’s eyes were constantly-brewing storms. Why he had a day-old scruff on his face and stress ridges in his forehead. Why he always looked like he was simmering, about to burst from anger.
Orchard had offered a chance to save a child when Daniel couldn’t save his own.
Clara cursed.
“I’m so sorry, Daniel. I had no idea. You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to help me. I never would’ve asked that of you had I known your circumstances.” She made a move to stand but he spun around and caught her by the wrist.
In the next second, they were standing toe-to-toe.
Heat ricocheting between them centered where they made skin-to-skin contact. His grip around her wrist was secure. She didn’t once doubt that he’d release her if she made a move. It felt more like he was holding onto her than trapping her. Like he needed that physical contact to connect with the world of the living after cutting himself off from it for far too long. Like he needed to prove to himself that he was still alive.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “That’s so unfair.”
The next thing she knew he pulled her into an embrace. Her hands came up to his chest, palms flat against a solid wall of silk-over-steel. She smoothed her fingers along the ridges, memorizing his body.
His hands dropped, circling her waist.
She looped hers around his neck, pushed up on her tiptoes and pressed her body flush with his. The kiss they’d shared yesterday had invaded her thoughts far too many times and her body hummed with need with him standing this close.
His hands trailed up her back, pausing at the base of her neck in order to tilt her head toward his.
He closed his eyes and brushed his lips against hers and heat flooded her body, pooling at the apex of her thighs.
Daniel was dark and gorgeous and sinful temptation wrapped up into one.
He was also damaged and dangerous. Both thoughts flew out the window when his lips made their second round. This time needy.
She parted her lips for him and dug her fingers into his course, wavy hair.
A thunderclap of need sprung from somewhere deep within and Clara was caught off guard at its potency. But then Daniel was all testosterone and masculinity, quiet, brooding strength in a
