Destiny Calls, Page 4

  He repeated the process on her other hand, working up her arms and over her shoulders. He moved her hair over her shoulder and massaged the warm water into her neck. The pull against her scalp told her he was removing dried blood from her hair. “What’s this?” he asked, pressing a finger into the place where her hairline met her neck.

  “What’s what?”

  “You have a mark.”

  “Oh, it’s my stork bite.”

  His fingers gently pressed into the birthmark. “Stork bite?”

  She sighed. Nothing like a cute guy obsessing over a blemish. “Yeah. I was born with it. They usually go away, but for some reason if a baby has one on the back of their neck, it’s permanent in most cases. I could have had it removed, but no one ever sees it under my hair except for nosy mountain men.”

  He grunted and continued to examine the raspberry stain. “Does it hurt?”

  “No.”

  He finally covered the mark and continued washing over her shoulders. When he finished he quietly asked, “Do you think you could tolerate lying on your back? The scratches are already starting to heal. I know it won’t be comfortable, but there is a cut on your knee that needs tending to.”

  Destiny complied and rolled to her side without much grace, careful to keep her body covered. Her back was tender, but she had been sleeping on her stomach so much her breasts were killing her, so the change in position was a welcome one.

  He scooted down closer to the foot of the small bed and pulled back the covers. The crude mattress whined under his weight. He lifted her ankle and began carefully washing her knee. It wasn’t until that moment that she realized she had been squeezing her thighs together. Parts of her now felt surprisingly empty.

  “Your clothes won’t be dry until morning. I washed them for you.”

  She frowned into the dimness. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe mountain man wasn’t a twin. Maybe he was a triplet, because this thoughtful man certainly wasn’t the nasty guy from the cave.

  These brothers were popping up everywhere. There was this nice man, the shirtless man from the cave, the angry one in the woods she shot, and she was pretty sure one of them was the reporter she had bumped into after a news update one day that past fall.

  He placed her leg back on the mattress, covered it with the quilt, and folded the blanket off of her other leg then began rinsing away dust from the mountain. Emboldened by his focus on his task, she asked, “What’s your name?”

  “Cain.”

  That was a rather biblical name, Destiny thought. “Is this where you live, Cain?”

  “This is where I’m staying for the moment.”

  “And what about your brothers? Do they live here?”

  “I only have one brother.” His hand gently nudged her legs apart, and she found it difficult to think.

  That didn’t make sense. “But…”

  “I have some questions for you now.” There was no hostility to his words, but he was moving from kind caregiver to interrogator. However, as his hand dragged that warm wash cloth over the inner soft flesh of her thigh, she wasn’t so sure what he was after.

  “Who knows you were in the woods?”

  She found no harm in letting him know that there were people who would report her missing. “My brother, Vito.”

  “Is that the male you were speaking to on the phone before you were attacked?”

  “How do you know about that?”

  “Answer the question.”

  She suddenly felt like she was shrinking. She swallowed nervously. “Yes.”

  “And what of your coworkers? I assume they’re the unthinking reprobates that abandoned a helpless female in the middle of nowhere with a serial killer on the loose. I assume they, too, know you were in the woods.”

  Meu Deus! Was he the serial killer? She began to tremble, mentally kicking herself for allowing her guard to drop. She was completely at his mercy and vulnerable. She didn’t even have clothing.

  His firm hand clamped over her trembling thigh, and he looked at her. “Easy. I’ve no intention of hurting you so long as you answer my questions and do not further complicate matters.”

  Her breath was coming fast. “They know I was there,” she whispered.

  He pressed his lips together and released his hold on her thigh. “That’s what I thought.” He folded the cover back over her legs and moved to sit on the outside of her hip. Paralyzed with fear, when he drew back the covers at her chin, exposing her shoulder and the upper swell of her left breast, she merely lay there.

  He continued to sponge away the grime covering her skin. His gaze was focused on her shoulder, but she could tell by his expression that his concentration was elsewhere. “Tell me about what happened in the woods.”

  His voice was calm, and that made it easier for her to talk. She haltingly explained what had taken place, starting with the argument she had with her crew before they left her there, all the way to the moment her finger hit that trigger.

  “It was an accident, I swear it. I cry when a bird flies into my windshield. I could never intentionally shoot a person. He was charging at me and his eyes appeared…” She thought back to the eyes of the man in the cave. Not wanting to offend and unsure how many look-alikes there were, she said, “I didn’t mean to release the arrow. I know it doesn’t replace what you’ve lost, but if it’s any consolation, if you let me leave, I plan on telling the police exactly what I did.”

  He paused and looked at her. His brow crinkled and lowered. “I told you no police.”

  “But I killed a man!”

  “What are you speaking of? I’m not dead.”

  “I know, but your brother…”

  “My brother is fine and no doubt planning my own demise at the moment. You knew I was a twin. How?”

  “I…” Had she hit her head? “I shot him.”

  “No,” he said with exaggerated patience. “You shot me.”

  “But I killed him.”

  He grunted and dragged the cloth over her collar bone and onto her other shoulder.

  “Cain, what’s going on?”

  Rather than answer he said, “You mentioned Anna. How do you know of her?”

  “He…you…said her name.”

  “When?”

  “Well, if you’re the same man from the woods, right after I shot you.” This was impossible. “But there’s no way you could have lived through an arrow in your heart.”

  “I’m fine.”

  Destiny suddenly had the sick sensation that she was dead and so was he. Maybe they were like Bruce Willis in The Sixth Sense, unable to let go because they had unfinished business. She reached for his wrist, and he stilled. Softly she said, “Cain, are we dead?”

  He laughed. “No, Destiny, you’re not dead. As soon as I figure out what to do with you, we shall have you back to sorts so that you can return to your daily life of exploiting others’ personal business once more.”

  “That’s not what I do.”

  “Oh? I hadn’t realized you had given up reporting.”

  She pressed her lips together and turned her face toward the wall. There was nothing wrong with what she did. Being a reporter was a dignified position. She wasn’t the paparazzi for crying out loud.

  She jerked her head around when the quilt pulled daringly low over her breasts. She gasped and gripped the blanket in her hands. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  His hand stilled, and he looked at her, the picture of innocence. “I’m pretty sure I missed some spots.” She yanked the covers to her chin and scowled at him. She could almost buy his innocent act if it wasn’t for the deviant twinkle in his eye.

  “I’m pretty sure you’re done!”

  Chapter 3

  Cain opened his eyes as the pink fingers of dawn crept through the cracks of the curtains. No dreams. He needed to get home to make sure that Anna was okay. The idea that she or the baby might have been harmed by his carelessness left a stew of unpleasant emotions bubbling in his stomach.
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br />   “Destiny.” When he called her name, the girl moaned and pressed her face farther into the mattress, turning away from his voice and toward the wall of the cabin. “Destiny, wake up. We need to get moving.”

  “What time is it?” Her voice sounded raspy and muffled.

  “I do not have a watch. It is dawn. We must leave.” He stood, and she grumbled something in a language he didn’t understand. Cain stood and went outside to retrieve her clothing he had left out to dry.

  The soot from the ashes made a circle where the fire had been. He quickly sent a light, sweeping wind in that direction to scatter the evidence of their stay in case the owner of the tiny cabin in the woods or anyone else came after them. Who knew what kind of trail the female had left?

  When he returned to the cabin, he let the door slam noisily behind him. She was still abed. “I will give you another minute to rise or I will rip the quilt off the bed.”

  “I’m up! I’m up. I’m up. I’m up.”

  That seemed to have garnered her attention. She attempted to quickly sit up, but her movements were still sluggish from sleep. She wrapped her curvy little naked body in the quilt. Cain pressed his lips together.

  “I am afraid I couldn’t salvage your blouse. You will have to wear one of my shirts. It shouldn’t be a problem since you like running around in men’s clothing.”

  She tensed and flipped a messy curtain of hair back from her face. Squinting her big brown eyes evilly in his direction she said, “I do not dress in men’s clothing.”

  “Are these not your pants?” He said, holding the denim pants up for her to see. She snatched them out of his hands as if they were some sort of a secret he wasn’t allowed to see. This female was a puzzle.

  “These are women’s designer jeans.”

  “Women wear dresses.”

  She scoffed. Cain went to his sack and removed a pair of black slacks, suspenders, and two dress shirts. He tossed her one of the shirts, and she turned toward the wall. The quilt slipped off her creamy shoulder and bared the curve of her breast as she lifted her arm. She worked the shirt over her limbs, clearly not wanting him to see her secret parts.

  “What’s up with these buttons?”

  He quickly swapped out his canvas pants for his black trousers. “What do you mean? Do you not know how to manage such intricate things?”

  She glared at him from over her shoulder, those dark chocolate eyes peeking through a hank of ebony hair then turning back to her task. “They’re covered with fabric.”

  “They are not meant to be showy. They’re meant to serve a purpose.”

  She turned just as he was doing up his own shirt. Looking to the ground she mumbled, “Could you turn around so I can put on my pants?”

  He looked at her for a moment, slowly fastening each button and obviously unnerving her. She fidgeted nervously. It was odd seeing this timid side of such an apparently independent female.

  “You are aware it was I that relieved you of your clothing?” He noticed the slight tightening of her jaw. “I do not understand how you English choose to be modest in one aspect and blatant in the next.” Sighing, he turned his back to her.

  The mattress creaked, then she huffed. “Where is my underwear?”

  Grateful he was facing the far wall of the cabin so his expression was hidden, he disguised his amusement. “You weren’t wearing any.”

  “Yes, I was!”

  He didn’t know much about Destiny Santos, but judging by what he did know, he assumed she was a prideful creature.

  Her condition, by the time they had arrived at the cabin, left much to be desired. Knowing she would be embarrassed at her disheveled and dirtied appearance, he had taken pity on her and stripped and cleaned her. He had done his best not to violate her privacy while she slept, but had no intention of enlightening her of his kindness.

  “Surely you do not consider the thread of an undergarment I pulled from your thighs underwear.”

  She didn’t answer. The rustling of clothing was the prelude to the soft patter of her feet stepping onto the floor. When he sensed she was dressed, he turned. Her caramel cheeks were now streaked with two dark crests of crimson. She hastily shoved her little feet into those ugly boots of hers without asking where her socks had disappeared to. With a huff, she stood and crossed her arms over her full breasts that hung unbound just beneath his shirt.

  “The next time you want me to remove my clothes, ask! And if I’m asleep, you can either wake me up or leave me the way I am!” she snapped and stomped out of the cabin, letting the door slam behind her.

  Cain gathered the rest of his belongings and closed up the shelter, certain to leave everything the way he had found it. Destiny was sulking and shivering just near the perimeter of pine trees surrounding the cleared dirt lot.

  Guilt for having teased her moved him to press his mind into the clouds and sent a bit of morning sunshine onto her trembling shoulders to take away her chill. He approached and she turned, glaring at him. Prickly little strumpet.

  “Shall we?” he asked.

  “Where are we going? I don’t even know where we are,” she snapped in a waspish tone.

  “We are going to my home. I need to check on some things.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “About thirty miles south—”

  “Thirty miles!” Her pretty eyes went wide, and then her scowl quickly returned. “Tell me you have a car nearby.”

  “I do not own an automobile.”

  “Cain, I’m not walking thirty miles.” The stubborn set of her arms told him this was going to be a battle. Although his worry for Anna was this woman’s fault, Cain was grateful for the distraction she brought. Until he returned to the farm and saw for himself that Annalise and the babe were alive and well, there was no sense in worrying.

  “Perhaps you would rather wait here for your friend from the woods to return.”

  The fleeting expression of panic that skipped across her face didn’t escape his notice. However, she quickly disguised her fear with hostility. “This is all your fault for throwing my phone! I could have called for help, and we could have been out of these woods by now.”

  “Be that as it may, we are walking. Shall we?”

  She gave a furious huff and turned. He allowed her to stomp off about thirty feet before he called to her. “Destiny?” She didn’t turn. She merely cocked her right arm out at a ninety-degree angle and showed him her longest finger as she tromped on. His lips twitched. That finger gesture was not an endearment. “You are heading east.” He silently laughed when she turned and swiftly marched back in his direction, chin held high, her unwavering pride still intact.

  They walked for over an hour in silence. The crunching and sometimes sloshing sound of their feet over the rough terrain the only sound passing between the two of them. Her hunger and thirst beat at him, yet he had nothing to offer her aside from the water in his nearly empty canteen. When they last stopped and he handed her a drink, he noticed her hands trembling terribly. She also kept rubbing her temples as if her head was paining her.

  Cain pressed into her mind to compel her to sleep so that he could carry her and make it home faster, but as always with Destiny, he couldn’t fully take hold of her mind. This troubled him. He gave up trying to force his way in when he worried he was making her head ache more with each attempt. He had taken much of her blood and given her a mild sip of his to assist with the healing, but he still needed to watch for signs of dehydration.

  As they traveled his mind returned to Anna and the baby. His brother, Adam, was likely furious with him and rightly so. Cain would never forgive himself if he harmed Anna in a way that couldn’t be repaired. And why had he not dreamt of her last night?

  Their kind didn’t dream unless they were being called to their mate. However, Cain seemed to be the one exception to that universal rule. Perhaps because of his and Adam’s genetic bond fused from the day they had shared their mother’s womb, they had each dreamt of Anna when she
was called to them.

  Twins were practically unheard of among their kind so Cain had no one to ask if this was something that could occur in others. There was no immortal among the elders who could offer answers. Called mates were such a rare gift, each case was different, but never had there been another case of two males being called to one female.

  When Annalise was called to The Order, it was Adam who found her first, but Cain who had been given the last choice. Adam would have never been able to bond with Anna had Cain not permitted it. It was perhaps his life’s greatest sacrifice.

  Although Annalise was as much his true called mate as she was his brother’s, Cain couldn’t claim a woman who didn’t love him.

  He wanted no woman who loved another man. The fact that he loved his twin as well only complicated matters more. Anna belonged to Adam, heart and soul. Where that left Cain was anybody’s guess. He believed himself marked to be a lost soul for all eternity. Another absolute passed down to them from their elders, each soul only had one true mate. Once that mate was forsaken, there would never be another. A mate was one’s destiny and ignoring God’s plan removed all likelihood of a fulfilling eternity.

  The loss of his life mate was still something that took great effort to accept. There were other peculiarities he was still struggling to understand. For instance, why had he not lost his mind when he didn’t bond with Anna?

  They had always been taught that without completing the bonding with a mate, the mind gives way to madness. Anna had needed his blood in order to transition. He had made the exchange, but the bonding was far more than a simple blood exchange. Their kind referred to this as turning feeish, more beast than man, incapable of rational thought and driven by the bloodlust and the need for one’s mate. It was widely accepted among The Order that once a vampyre turned feeish there was no saving the mind or soul. All that remained was a rabid beast needing to be put down. His Uncle Isaiah was a perfect example of this.