Iris Johansen - Eight Days To Live

“No, I don’t know that much about you. Except that you’re manipulative and have no compunction about doing exactly what pleases you.”

“Not true. I’ve told you before, I have a kind of code. If I didn’t have some compunction, then I’d be the same kind of monster as the people I hunt.” He chuckled. “But since you’ve chosen to bring me back in your life, it’s inevitable that you do get to know me very well indeed. I’m looking forward to it.”

“I’m not.”

“I know. As I said, you’ve always been wary of me.” His voice lowered to velvet softness. “Do you want me to take away all that wariness and make you look forward to it, too?”

She felt sudden scorching heat move through her. “Hell, no.”

He sighed. “I do hope I can keep from breaking my code and going ahead anyway. You’ve always been a temptation, Jane.” He didn’t wait for her to reply. “I’ll call you when I have something to report. It will be soon. I’m very, very eager.” He hung up.

She drew a deep breath as she hung up. It was done. But what had she gotten herself into?

Nothing she couldn’t handle.

Caleb was her best bet in this insane situation. If it was inevitable that they get to know each other as he had said, then it would happen.

She had a sudden memory of the searing instant of heat she’d experienced a moment before. That undercurrent of sensuality had been present every since they’d first met, but she’d tried to ignore it.

Well, she could handle that, too.

“Finished?” Jock was walking toward her across the parking lot. “You weren’t long.”

“No?” She glanced at the clock on the dashboard. Less than ten minutes. It had seemed a much longer time. “Were you able to get us rooms?”

“Yes, no problem.” He opened the car door for her. “I sent your bags up to your room. No room service, but there’s a coffee bar in the lobby, and I arranged for a to-go order. I’ll pick it up when we get inside. Coffee and a couple sandwiches. Okay?”

She nodded. “I’m not hungry.”

“You should eat. When’s the last time you had anything but coffee?”

She smiled. “I had that bowl of cold cereal you set out for me at the apartment.”

“Good.” He took her elbow. “But that was a long time ago. Let’s see if you can get down a sandwich. We’ll take them up to your room, and you can eat.” He paused. “And then satisfy my appetite for information. I hope everything went well with your Seth Caleb?”

Had it gone well? She couldn’t be sure. She was as disturbed as she usually was after speaking to Caleb. “I suppose that it went as well as could be expected. He’s going to help me find Weismann.”

“Promising. But I want to know a good deal more about your friend, Caleb. MacDuff will cross-examine me without mercy. If I’m to keep him at the Run acting as guardian, I’ll have to have answers.”

“You’ll have them.” She entered the Inn. “But I’m warning you, he’ll still have problems with my using Caleb. That’s why I chose you and not MacDuff to come with me.”

“YOU DIDN’T EAT VERY MUCH,” Jock said. “I know the bread tasted like cardboard but it-”

“It was fine,” she interrupted. “I had enough.” She lifted the paper cup containing the hot coffee to her lips. “This is all I need.”

“It’s good coffee.” Jock stretched out his legs in front of him. “Perhaps to make up for those atrocious sandwiches.” He looked around the room. “This is pleasant. I like all those purple and white flowers on the bedspread. Restful.”

“It’s too pretty.” She glanced at the windows draped in sheer white chiffon. “It looks like something from a ten-year-old girl’s wish list.”

“When you were ten, would it have been on your wish list, Jane?”

“No, I was always suspicious of anything that was too pretty. I was a tough little kid.” She braced herself. “And now that you’ve tried to put me at ease, hadn’t you better start the interrogation?”

“Interrogation? You make me sound like a cop.”

No, he was nothing like a cop. His gentle persistence was much more insidious. He would just sit there, smiling that beautiful smile and waiting for her to speak.

“You want to know about Seth Caleb.”

He nodded. “Will it be easier if I ask you questions?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“The main thing I want to know is why you think Caleb can find Weismann when Venable is having trouble?”

“It’s what Caleb does. He has a passion.”

“For hunting. What kind of hunting, Jane?”

“He finds people who can’t be found.”

“For whom?”

“He works principally for the Devanez family, who are his relations, but he takes other assignments if they interest him. I know he spent years hunting down a cult that was responsible for the death of his sister.”

“Ah, vengeance. Good punishing evil?”

“In a way. It’s not that simple. Yes, as far as I know, the people he hunts are slimeballs who deserve to be punished. But Caleb doesn’t pretend to be the sword of justice. He’s not that hypocritical.”

“And by what means is your wonderful hunter able to find those people?”

Dammit, she had known that question would come. “He’s… unusual.”

“You said that before and in just that tone. I’m intrigued. Are you going to explain?”

“Yes.” She might as well stop stumbling around and just come out with it. “Caleb has certain talents. One of them is an ability to change people’s perception.”

“You mean he’s very persuasive.”

“No.” She shrugged. “I mean that give him a few minutes alone with anyone, and he can convince them that they want to do anything he wants them to do. He can turn hatred into friendship. If he asks anyone questions, they’re going to answer him. Which would help enormously if you’re on the hunt for someone.”

“I imagine it would,” Jock said absently, his gaze studying her face. “Let me understand you. You’re talking about a psychic ability?”

“I know that it sounds weird.”

“Oh, yes.”

“You don’t have to believe me. That’s why I didn’t want MacDuff coming along. I knew I’d have trouble with him thinking I was off my rocker. I wouldn’t blame him. I’m not sure I believe it. I’m a realist, and what I ran across with Caleb was out of my comfort zone. But I saw him do it with the grandfather of my friend, Patty. He changed him from a bad-tempered bastard to someone almost pleasant. He didn’t promise that it would be permanent, but even Patty could see the difference in her grandfather.”

“One case.”

“I was skeptical, too.” She paused, then said reluctantly, “He gave me a personal demonstration.”

“Personal?”

“Don’t ask. I was ready to murder him.” She added, “But he can do it, Jock. If anyone can find Weismann, it will be Caleb. He’s spent most of his life hunting down people.”

“And what does he do when he catches them?”

Her grasp tightened on the paper cup. “I imagine his death count may be as high or higher than yours, Jock.”

“Really?” He leaned back in his chair. “You do seem to draw us lost souls to you, don’t you, Jane?”

“But he’s not like you,” she said sharply. “It wasn’t your fault. You were sick. You had no choice. He decided on the path he was going to travel.”

“There’s always something that triggers that decision. What was his trigger, Jane?”

“He had… other talents. His background is very dark. For hundreds of years those psychic gifts were passed down through his family. Back in the fourteenth century his family used their talents to inspire fear and dominate the small village in Italy where they lived.” She moistened her lips. “According to Caleb, they balanced on the edge of becoming monsters.”