Night Angel (Angel Haven) (3 page)

A small shed stood behind him, housing wood for the winter. A tall man wearing a heavy tool belt, his long, dark brown hair pulled into a ponytail, came out, wiping his hands on his jeans. He was at least six foot five with huge arms and wide shoulders. His A-line T-shirt was smudged with dirt and grease, and he looked at Randall like he was looking at a cockroach.

“Come on, Dupré,” he shouted, his voice tinged with impatience. “You’re not even halfway done with those logs, and there’s a lot more to go.”

Karen flinched as the ax came down hard enough to split the log and imbed itself in the block.

“It’d go faster if you’d help,” he growled.

The man just smiled, stepping back inside the shed.

“Edna, would you excuse me a moment?” Not waiting for her partner’s reply, Karen hurried over to Randall.

He straightened up at her approach. “Can I help you?”

There was that sexy, southern drawl again. Karen stared at the defined planes of his shoulders and chest, her gaze drifting to his waist. Realizing what she was doing, she forced her gaze back to his face. Someone had hit him hard enough to leave a large bruise on his cheek.

She cleared her throat. “I just wanted to apologize for getting you in trouble last night.”

“It’s all right. Troyington wasn’t too mad.” He lifted another piece of wood onto the block, hefting the ax in his hands. “Last night was nothing. He’s usually worse.” The ax whistled through the air, landing with a loud thunk in the wood.

His movements were smooth and fluid and becoming a real distraction. “Why do you stay if he treats you so badly? Isn’t there someone you can report him to?”

“Report him?” A corner of his mouth lifted. “To who? I’m here of my own free will, under a contract of my own making.”

Karen stared at the bruise on his cheekbone, trying to push away the compulsion to try and soothe it. “I don’t understand...” Her voice died away as he stared at her.

The ice in his eyes darkened as he watched her face. “You can’t. Not yet. The time isn’t right.”

Silence fell between them. Karen lifted her hand, overwhelmed by the need to touch his face.

His eyes softened, his lips quirking. “Don’t worry about me, Ms. Spraiker. Worry about staying on Troyington’s good side.”

Slowly, he lifted his hand and brushed a thumb over her cheek. Karen caught her breath, unable to say a word. It was as if he felt her need to touch him, to be touched by him. At his touch, she could feel something powerful resonate in him. It felt
familiar
in a way.

“Solve your mystery and go home. Staying here is dangerous.” He picked up the split wood, taking it to the shed. She gasped when he turned his back revealing ugly, red welts crisscrossing his shoulders.

****

Randall had sensed her approach even before he looked up to see her trotting across the yard. He hated the pity he saw written on her face. His biggest mistake was touching her. He should’ve kept his hands to himself. He’d forced himself not to flinch when he’d heard her gasp at the welts on his back. At least the bleeding had stopped. After he changed tonight, there wouldn’t even be scars left. Cray, the handyman for the estate, stood watching him from the doorway to the shed.

“Move,” Randall snarled. He stacked the logs along the back wall, then turned to get another load.

Cray folded his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “You’re getting a little too familiar with that particular guest, Dupré. The boss isn’t going to like it.”

“You think I give a damn what Troyington likes? Think again.” Randall pushed by him to bring in the first load he’d cut.

Cray watched Randall walk back and forth. “You need to show Mr. Troyington more respect.”

“Respect?” Randall snorted. “Him? A man who kidnaps children for his own gain deserves no respect. Only whatever hell I can put him in.”

Cray grabbed his arm, spinning him around. “Watch your mouth, southern boy.”

“Or what?” Randall said, his eyes narrowing. “What do you think you can possibly do to me that you haven’t done already?”

“How about this?” Cray slammed his fist into Randall’s stomach, dropping him to one knee. “What’s wrong, freak? Can’t take a little hit?”

Randall raised his eyes to glare at Cray. “Oh, I can take it. Can you?” Randall surged to his feet, catching Cray with a right cross, knocking him backward into the tool rack. He rammed his shoulder into Cray’s midsection, knocking the breath from the larger man. He slammed Cray’s head against the peg board, making tools fall to the dirt floor with solid thuds. Cray wiped the blood from his mouth as Randall grabbed the front of his shirt, slamming him again into the tool rack as he drew his arm back.

“Wait,” Cray cried out, throwing his hands up in front of him. “You haven’t really thought about what you’re doing, have you?”

Randall hesitated, then let him go, stepping back.
No
, he thought,
I haven’t.
People are depending on me, and I let Cray get under my skin.

Cray smiled, drawing himself up to tower over Randall. “Mr. Troyington’s going to find out about this. Then you won’t be so smug, will you? If he didn’t need you and whatever power you claim you possess, I’d break your neck and leave you here.”

Randall’s hands curled into fists, itching to wipe the smug smirk off Cray’s face. “But he does. How would he feel if his guests found out what he’s really doing here? Rich people don’t like being associated with illegal experimentation. The only reason I haven’t told them is because I want to make sure you keep your hands off the children.”

Cray poked him hard in the chest. “That’s right. You cooperate and everyone stays healthy. You haven’t forgotten that, have you?”

Randall squeezed his eyes shut. He remembered the faces of the pack as they had asked for his help. He’d felt the fury radiate from Caledon even though his outward appearance had been calm. Their children were their future and both were in danger. He was supposed to keep them safe, not lose his temper because of men like Cray. No. He hadn’t forgotten.

“Did you, Dupré?” Cray said, biting off the end of every word.

“No. I didn’t.” He glared at Cray, his lip pulling up in a snarl. If he could get away with it, Cray wouldn’t be walking out of the shed.

“The brats live so long as you keep in line. Another outburst like this and he may make an example of one. Maybe even the pack leader’s son. That wouldn’t look too good for you, now would it?”

Randall took a step toward him. “Don’t hurt them,” he said through clenched teeth.

Cray shoved him hard, making him stumble back a few steps. “Then you’d better start behaving yourself.”

Randall glared at him, inwardly pleased to see a little bit of fear fill Cray’s eyes. “Know this. Troyington and the rest of you only live by my discretion. Once I find the children, don’t count on another sunrise.”

Cray shook himself then stood straighter, looking down at Randall and shoving him again. “Big talk for a little man.”

Randall snorted as he looked the larger man over. “I’m not impressed.”

Cray swung his fist, knocking Randall to the ground. “One of these days, I’m not going to wait for the okay. I’m just going to get rid of you.”

Randall spit blood on the floor and wiped his mouth. “Funny, I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

Cray kicked him as he went by. “Get back to work, and remember, I’m keeping an eye on you the whole time.”

Randall pushed himself to his feet, rubbing his side. His knuckles were bleeding again. He turned his hand over to look at his palm. Damn. The blister between his thumb and forefinger was back. Add in the dirt, cuts, scrapes, splinters, and everything else he’d picked up and he was a real mess. He shook his head. This was the hand he’d laid on Karen’s cheek.

He hadn’t stopped thinking about her since he’d first seen her. He swung the ax, seeing her face with those beautiful brown eyes, the high cheekbones, the full lips. Her skin was softer than he thought it would be. The dragon spirit coiled in her and surged to life with his touch. He had noticed the dragon pendant she wore and knew it connected her to the creatures of old. She had accepted their power but hadn’t set it loose yet. It filled her and made her strong. He could still feel the power from her tingle in his fingertips.

He gazed in the direction she had gone. Should he make his move soon? He allowed himself a small smile. Hell, Marshall probably would’ve smacked him in the head by now and demanded to know what he was waiting for.

Randall had no doubt Cray would run straight to Troyington to relate the morning’s events. He split another log, turning to spit more blood on the ground.
Have I endangered the children?
he thought. As the ax whistled down, he wished more than ever to find the werewolf children and go back to his own clan. Karen’s face filled his mind. Would she go with him if he asked her? Or would she turn from him when she saw his other side?

****

Karen had wanted to reach out to him when she saw the welts on his back. But he walked away, leaving her not knowing what to do. She wondered about the power she could still feel from him and why it seemed it was an important part of her. Not wanting Edna to know what she was thinking, she asked brightly, “Shall we continue?”

“Do you know Randall Dupré?” Edna asked.

She glanced toward the shed. “I just met him yesterday. I thought I was lost, and he gave me directions. I wanted to thank him.”
I feel like I’ve known him forever. How can this be?

“You’d do well to stay away from him. Bradford doesn’t like his help to talk to the guests.” Edna pulled Karen in the direction they’d been heading.

Karen frowned as her companion hurried her away from where Randall was working. “Oh? Why?”

“The Troyingtons are an old family with old beliefs. Servants are below them.” Edna looped her arm through Karen’s. “That Dupré character is suspicious. You can see it in his eyes.”

Karen thought about Randall’s eyes. They were magical, the color of ice lit by an inner fire. Her breath quickened as his face planted itself clearly in her mind. Her spirit longed for him and cried out as she moved farther away from him. She realized Edna was speaking again.

Edna took a wary glance over her shoulder. “There’s something spooky about him. He seems to have taken a liking to you, but don’t let him get too close.”

Karen focused on controlling what she wanted to say. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had to remind herself so many times to remain calm and focused. “He doesn’t strike me as a maniac or anything, and he doesn’t scare me.”

“You’re young, my dear.” Edna patted her hand. “Just make sure you keep your distance. Now, if you need someone, I’m pretty sure Bradford wouldn’t mind filling the job.”

“Are you trying to play matchmaker?” Karen teased.

“Heavens, no.” Edna winked at her. “But if you want me to, I will.”

Karen shook her head, wishing Edna would let the subject drop. “I’m not in the market right now. I’m just here for an enjoyable weekend.”

She thought of Bradford with his blond hair and chiseled good looks. She’d have nothing to worry about for the rest of her life if she hooked up with him, but Randall’s image took over Bradford’s in her mind. He was used to hard work and, from the condition his clothes were in, didn’t have much money. When he’d laid his hand on her cheek, she’d felt its roughness even though his caress had been gentle.

Bradford was used to being in charge and not having his orders questioned. Randall had fire in his soul, yet did nothing to stand up for himself.
What’s wrong with him?
she wondered.
Is he a coward? Why?
There had to be a reason. No man would willingly take such abuse.

Things at the estate weren’t adding up. Karen knew there was a real mystery here and not just the one staged for their benefit.

Chapter Three

The guests gathered in the drawing room after dinner, their excitement palpable as they discussed the day’s events. A fire crackled merrily, taking the chill out of the air, its glow adding warmth to the light from the table lamps. Shadows danced in the corners, and Karen avoided looking at them and the guests who cast them, preferring to stare out the window, trying to catch a glimpse of what she’d seen the night before.

“Well done, everyone,” Bradford said, entering the room. “Some of you are on the right track. Keep up the good work.”

He moved to stand behind Karen. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Yes, I am, very much. It’s fun to be part of a mystery, not just watching or reading about one.” She turned back to the darkness, wishing he’d go talk to the others.

He raised his eyebrows as he gazed at her, then turned to stare out the window with her. “Looking for something in particular out there?”

“Not really. I was hoping to catch another glimpse of whatever I saw last night.”

He smiled. “Good luck. It may not even be in the area any more.”

Karen wanted to see for herself. She laid her hand on the glass, wanting to know what lay in the darkness beyond. “Would it be all right if I took a walk outside? Just for a little bit?”

“Only if I can come with you.”

“Of course.” Karen smiled, swallowing her disappointment. She’d wanted some time alone. Hopefully the giant bird wouldn’t be scared by two of them. She felt she would’ve had a better chance of seeing it if she were by herself.

Bradford opened the french doors and guided her outside into the darkness beyond, steering her off to the right. “The gardens are around this way. You won’t be able to see much at night, but you can get an idea of how large they are.”

“I’m sure they’re beautiful.” Finding the bird was foremost in her mind, not the gardens. Of course, it’d be nice finding Randall, too. “You’ll have to give me a tour of them when the sun’s up.”

“I’d love to show you around tomorrow after the mystery is over, if you have time before you leave.” He pulled her arm through his.

“We’ll see.” Karen’s gaze wandered over the outside of the house. “You really do have a lovely home.” At least the exterior wasn’t as gaudy as the interior.

“Thank you.” He stared at his home, not saying anything for a few moments. “My parents worked hard to make this place what it is. When my mother became ill, my father had the balcony built all the way around the house for her. She couldn’t manage the stairs, but she still loved to go outside.”