Illicit Connections (Illicit Minds Book 2) Page 3

  “About many things.” She gasped and covered her mouth as soon as she’d spoken. Had the Fury heard her?

  Ben patted her on the arm, sending tingles through her body, which was more than a little odd. Touch didn’t usually have that effect on her. She’d placed her hands on his earlier and it had had no effect. Was it because he’d touched her and not the other way around?

  “Don’t worry. No one is here to hear you except me.”

  If only she could have believed him. Even if it was true, it didn’t exactly follow that she should be saying bad things about Madame. The woman had the right to do bad things to the Conditioned, but she also kept them fed, clothed and functional, which was more than what would happen to them if they lived in the outside world. In some ways, the woman should apply for sainthood. It couldn’t have been easy to have to spend your life surrounded by the damned.

  “Why don’t you show me where the ghost is here?” It would at least give her a chance to find her feet in this place.

  She’d only been there a short time, and she was already unnerved. This beautiful man with his dark eyes and direct gaze threw her off her game, which couldn’t be a good thing. The last thing she needed in this phase of her life was to disregard her path, the one she hoped would lead her somehow to divine redemption.

  Sighing quietly, so no one else could possibly hear, she followed where he walked. A few feet farther into the hallway and she stared up at blank space on the wall. Here? Something had happened here?

  “Right before you got here, the grandfather clock that had been in my family for generations crashed to the floor like someone had shoved it over. I was alone in the house.”

  It would have to have been one heck of a ghost to manifest such a maneuver. “Are all the people in the three-block neighborhood having such dramatic encounters?”

  “Some people are having it worse. Some people swear they can see things moving. I haven’t had that yet. My girls have seen…” His voice trailed off, and he looked away.

  She nodded. “I’m sure they’re not Conditioned. In extreme circumstances, even the non-inflicted can see manifestations of the energy.”

  “How is that different from what you do?” Ben stepped closer to her. They stood side by side, staring at the blank wall together. She could feel the heat off his body, and it was comforting in a way she’d never felt before.

  “Trust me, it’s different. In a few seconds you’re going to see how different.” She looked over her shoulder to silently admire his profile. It was solid. He had a strong chin and an aristocratic nose, both of which spoke of power and resilience.

  She forced her attention back to the task at hand.

  “Your wife? She’s gone.”

  It wasn’t really a question. None of the recent pictures of the girls included a woman, although their baby pictures did. It seemed a fair guess she was gone.

  He sighed and rubbed his forehead. As he did so, his arm gently collided with hers. She stifled a gasp at the contact. “She died four years ago.”

  “I see.”

  She really hoped that the energy signals she found were not those of his late wife. That would break her heart. That would mean the woman hadn’t been able to transition her entire spirit on to the next world, that part of her had stayed behind here. She didn’t want to have to tell Ben that his wife had never really left the house.

  He turned to stare at her, and she felt heat rise in her face. She really, really didn’t want to blush. It was a big problem with her skin tone.

  “Do you think it’s her? Dana?”

  Seven didn’t want to lie, not this close to her own end. “I have no way of knowing who it is just yet. But I will know when I find the ghost, and if you want, I’ll tell you who it is. Only if you ask me, okay?”

  He nodded, and a strand of his dark-as-midnight hair fell over his eyes. He blinked and pushed it away, causing her heart to flutter. “Fair enough.”

  “Your daughters? Have you sent them away from here to avoid me?”

  She wasn’t sure why she had asked the question, except she felt compelled to sort out the complex picture Ben presented of himself.

  “Daphne and Ella—they’re six.” He cleared his throat. “I couldn’t know what having you here would mean for them. I hope you’re not offended, but that’s how it had to be. They’re with Annie.”

  Annie—she must have been the neighbor. The older woman who had visited earlier.

  “It’s totally understandable. You can’t know what kind of danger bringing a Conditioned into your home would mean.”

  Even though it was true, the thought that Ben shared the feelings of most of the world stuck in her gut. She pushed it away. It was important information to have. Always better to know when she was surrounded by real hate versus minor curiosity. She would have put Ben in the latter category. No matter. She’d been wrong before.

  “If I’d known you were so nice, I would have let them come home.”

  She wasn’t sure whether he meant it or was being polite. Either way, it warranted a response from her. “Thank you for saying that. It’s not necessary. I’m actually good with children. My job in Crescent is to help in the nursery.”

  “The nursery? I thought they were no longer letting you guys have children.”

  “Madame never let us have children.” Seven turned her attention back to the wall. “The nursery is where the babies who are brought to us are kept. It’s where I was raised. You were right to keep them away, sir. What I’m about to do… it scares adults. Probably best for your kids never to see it.”

  He paused for a second. “What are you going to do?”

  “Find your ghost.”

  It took only seconds for Seven to transition her gaze into the netherworld that was the energy field where ghosts—or energy signatures, as she thought of them—were found. When she’d been a child, it had happened as easily as breathing, but now she controlled the pull into that dimension and had to work at opening it up.

  When she was sure she was fully integrated, she turned to regard Ben. She wanted him to see what she looked like so he wouldn’t freak out later when there would be people around. Most people screamed when they saw her. She’d never seen herself, but she knew what he would witness. Her eyes—the entirety of them—had turned completely black. They were her demon eyes, the sign to the world that she was cursed beyond redemption.

  Three

  Ben reached out and grabbed the side of Seven’s face. He wasn’t even aware he was going to do it until he had. It was as if his hand had a mind of its own. She had the most incredible blue eyes, and now they were blacker than the night sky when he couldn’t see any stars. He should have been afraid, except he wasn’t. Not at all.

  He was drawn to them like moths to the buzzing light he hung on his porch to keep the mosquitoes away. The moth shouldn’t fly into that light; it was the wrong bug. All the same, the bug would die, even though it shouldn’t be there at all.

  There was no way he should have been reacting this way to this woman and her eyes that changed from sky-blue to black in an instant.

  “You’re not screaming or running from the room.”

  No, he was touching her, embracing her cheek with his hand. Did she not notice his skin on her skin?

  “I’m not frightened.”

  She raised a strawberry-blonde eyebrow. “You’re not?”

  “I’ve never seen anything like it. But I’m not afraid.”

  Seven blinked a few times without speaking. “Are you touching me?”

  “Can’t you feel it?” His instinct was to drop his hand from her face, but he stayed where he was. It was like when one of the girls fell down and hurt themselves. He had to hold onto them until he’d reassured himself that they were fine, and maybe a few moments past that, too, just for safe measure. He couldn’t hold Seven—had no business wanting to—but he was touching her just the same.

  “It’s hard for me to feel things when I’m like this. It’s li
ke living in two different worlds. In a second, when I focus, I won’t be able to speak to you at all.”

  He didn’t like the thought of that. What if something happened? Like the kitchen spontaneously caught on fire. He shook his head. What the hell was wrong with him? His brother had presumably called in a huge favor to get this woman here. He needed to let her do her job. Where had all these protective instincts come from? She was nothing to him.

  As he dropped his hand to his side, he moved a few feet away from her. “By all means, do what you need to do.”

  In two strides, he had made it to the counter. What he needed was to be busy. His hands needed a task to keep his mind where it was supposed to be. Reaching over, he grabbed the cup Annie had left on the counter earlier. There was a little of the lemonade she’d made left inside. He took a long sip from the cup, letting the beverage take his mind—sort of—off what was happening.

  “There’s nothing there.”

  Hearing her voice, he nearly choked. As he turned around, he set his cup down on the counter. The clink of the cup hitting the granite was the only sound in the room. She was two shades whiter than the pale shade she’d been before.

  Instinct drove him forward. Before she even swayed, he knew she would fall. She’d half-collapsed onto the floor before he grabbed her arm, hauling her against him.

  “Sorry.” Her voice was barely a whisper, and her eyes, once again blue, were unfocused.

  He swept her into his arms and carried her over to the couch. She weighed almost nothing, and she wasn’t a short woman. It was hard to tell exactly what she looked like under her orange jumpsuit, but he now suspected she wasn’t properly fed.

  “Does it take this much out of you every time you do it?”

  “No.” She raised a dainty hand to rub at her eyes. “I was already tired. I shouldn’t have attempted it. I wanted to give you the services you’re entitled to. I don’t want to fail at this job. Not right before my death.”

  His stomach turned at the thought. She didn’t know how old she was, but in his mind she couldn’t be more than thirty, and maybe she was even younger.

  “I don’t want you doing anything that might cause you pain. I’m responsible for your welfare.”

  She nodded, her blue eyes sad as they looked at him. “Okay, sir.”

  “Ben. Please call me Ben.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  He brushed her hair out of her eyes. “You can. What can I get you? Water? Food?”

  “I know it’s very early, but I really need some sleep. I’d rather save my meal for tomorrow, if that’s okay?”

  His heart broke every time she spoke about her expectations. “Seven, listen to me. While you’re here, I’m going to feed you three meals a day. Maybe a snack, too, if you want one. I’m in charge, right? You have to do what I tell you, and I’m informing you that despite what Madame says, you will eat a lot here.”

  The smallest smile formed on her lips. “Really? I don’t want you to get into trouble.”

  He helped her to sit up, feeling sorry he had to let her go at all. She was a young woman—and he didn’t care who disagreed, she was, in fact, a woman and not an it—and she was in his home. Ben was responsible for her wellbeing. God help anyone who told him how he was going to care for someone who lived within his walls. No one would abuse her here.

  “I won’t get into trouble. I’m a lawyer. You can trust me to know what I can do within the law.” He stood up. “You’re welcome to go to bed. I’d also be glad to feed you.”

  “Where should I sleep?” She looked down at the floor and he followed her gaze. Suddenly, he understood what she was thinking.

  “Not on the floor. No way.” He extended his hand and was relieved when she took it. “We have beds in this house. You’ll use one.”

  “Thank you.”

  The simplicity of her gratitude made him stop in his tracks. Who might this woman have been if she hadn’t been Conditioned? The thought made him remember something else. “You said there was nothing there?”

  She nodded. “That’s right. No ghosts. No leftover energy.”

  He took her arm to lead her up the stairs. She smelled fantastic, like cherries and coffee beans. He wondered where she’d picked up those scents. In other circumstances, he would have closed his eyes and drowned in the aroma for a few moments. Not since Dana had a woman’s mere presence affected him like this. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to have to adjust his pants.

  Sex was the last thing he should have been thinking about.

  He made himself move again, taking her with him toward the stairs. “You keep talking about energy.”

  “That’s what ghosts are—leftover energy. Something the person left behind.”

  “Oh.” His mind whirled. Apparently, whatever it was Seven saw, it wasn’t a floating spirit waiting to make amends for wrongs done to them or by them in their lifetime. “So how can you tell who they are?”

  “That’s a complicated question.”

  The lawyer in him hated that answer. “That’s vague… deliberately, yes?”

  She smiled as she made a noise that was somewhere in between a laugh and a groan. “Most of the time when I don’t answer questions, it’s because I have found that people don’t want to know the real response. They think they do, but the reality of it keeps them up at night.”

  “Don’t consider me most people. I have an obsession with the truth. I need it beyond almost anything else.”

  It had driven his brother crazy when they’d been children. Gene wanted to exist in the shadows, never to be bothered with the total truth of anything. Maybe that was why Ben had gone so far to the other side of the issue. He hated lies, detested them. Not answering was akin to a lie for him.

  “I take the energy inside me and, for one moment, I can see who the energy once belonged to, who they once were.”

  They climbed the stairs slowly. He could feel her exhaustion ripple through her body. Under his grasp, her bones felt fragile. “How about I get you some milk?”

  He cringed as the words left his mouth. She wasn’t one of his girls. There probably wasn’t any way he could feed her problems out of her. A multi-vitamin wasn’t going to fuel a change in her health.

  “I’m not thirsty, thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Frustration slammed through his insides. He wanted to fix this, damn it. “Please stop thanking me.”

  “Okay.”

  She was too easy, too accepting of all that went on around her. They reached the top of the stairs, and she sagged against him. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been around anyone who was so tired before. He bent over slightly, scooping her into his arms.

  Seven didn’t complain or even comment, other than a murmur of something he couldn’t make out. Her eyes were open, giving him the chance to gaze into them, but he suspected she couldn’t really see him.

  The guest room was right at the top of the stairs. With one hand, he managed to finagle the door open. In two strides, he’d reached the bed. He laid her down upon it gently.

  She smiled up at him. How was it that despite his knowing her for only a little while, she’d managed to thaw out his emotions and break his heart at the same time?

  “This is a very nice room.”

  He sat down on the edge of the bed. “Your bathroom is right there.” He pointed at the closed door. “Tomorrow, I’ll see about getting you some clothes.”

  “I’m not supposed to wear anything but this.”

  He touched the ugly, orange jumpsuit that made her look as if she’d committed some kind of felony. Technically, she had. At birth.

  “What did I say about what would happen while you’re in my house?”

  She smiled and pulled the pillow up against her until she embraced it as if it were a teddy bear. “Your house, your rules.”

  “Exactly. Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  He left the room and crossed the threshold into the hall. Closing the door beh
ind him, he stood for a moment, listening for any sound within the bedroom. Silence filled the hall, and when he eventually felt foolish, he made his way back down the stairs.

  Not wanting to dwell too long on the reasons why he was doing so, he hurried into his office. At first, when Dana had been alive, he’d resisted the idea of having a space to work in at home. He spent so much time in the office. When he was home, he wanted to be home. But his wife had thought it would be better if he didn’t have to take job-related phone calls in the same room where screaming toddlers played. She’d been right, of course. After she’d died, and he hadn’t been able to go to the office as much, it had been a gift to have the space at home to get things done. At least his daughters got to see him.

  He sat down on his leather chair and picked up the phone. Before he did anything else, Ben needed to check on his little ladies, who had to have been freaked out that they hadn’t come home from school today but instead, were staying at Annie’s.

  Quickly, he dialed Annie’s number. She picked up on the first ring. “Has something bad happened with it?”

  “It?” He opened his desk drawer, his mind already moving to his next task.

  His favorite pen sat in its assigned spot, and he pulled it out.

  “The Conditioned in your house.”

  “She’s not an it. She’s a she. That’s why I couldn’t understand what you meant.” He knew he was opening up a can of worms by speaking his mind to Annie. Still, he couldn’t seem to help himself. How could she have been in the room with Seven and still refer to her as an it? Annie had been the one to point out that Seven was a “baby,” although there was nothing about Seven that said baby to Ben.

  Annie was silent on the other end of the phone. He closed his eyes. The woman was currently watching over the two most important people in his life. Why couldn’t he control his damn mouth?

  “I have to keep reminding myself, Ben, that the young woman who walked through your door is dangerous. A means to an end, as they say.” He could hear the tightness in her voice.

  “Ms. Annie, you’ll have to take my word on this, but Seven is more a danger to herself than she is to anyone else.” He was certain about that. She took the ghost energy into herself? How the hell did that work? “Now, how are things going on over there with y’all?”