Linda Thomas-Sundstrom - Immortal Redeemed

He eyed her thoughtfully. Are you what my Makers tried so hard to hide so that my life would go endlessly on? Or are you merely a woman who appeals to my baser side?

It was conceivable that she was just a woman, but how could a mistake in identity happen between two souls intricately tied to each other for centuries, or when the termination of his life might be in her hands?

Each Blood Knight had a counterpart soul, though no one expected the two to find each other. They weren’t supposed to meet. Weren’t designed to meet. The Makers at Castle Broceliande had seen to it that the seven Knights could be taken down if they veered too far off track. This had been accomplished by planting fail-safe switches in seven other souls ultimately responsible for turning each Knight off, dealing a final death blow if called into action.

The way they’d do this was top secret. None of the Knights knew what their counterparts might have in store, or where in the world they were. It had taken Kellan years of research to pinpoint Seattle as the hometown of his, plus a lot of underground bargaining with his considerable fortune. Then there was the call he had felt all the way to his bones.

Was it this woman, then?

Is it you?

Will your touch end my existence? As simply as that? I show up and awaken what’s supposed to be off-limits, and you destroy me?

Her closeness produced feverish warmth in him. Yet he was minus the guidebook for unlocking secrets tucked inside someone composed by magical design, so he was on his own. And honestly, he now began to think that exploring this female’s hidden assets, no matter what she turned out to be, would be extremely pleasurable. He might even die a final death with a smile on his lips.

As he stood there, the urge to touch her was becoming an outright necessity. He wanted to trace her facial scar with his fingers and feel firsthand the lushness of her lips. Burying his face in her damp hair would be a luxury. She smelled damn good, and it had been a while since he’d taken the time to enjoy anything of a personal nature.

“I’m willing to help,” he said, gauging her reaction to his closeness. She shook so hard, his hand connected to hers automatically, sending shocking currents of electricity buzzing through him.

His excitement doubled. But was this a further sign?

Kellan smiled. While his sigils seared his skin and his heart beat wildly in his chest, raw physical need was trumping his internal warnings about having to use caution. Hell, he wanted this woman so badly, it was possible that sex held the answer to unlocking the Reaper, and all he had to do was insert a throbbing key into her lock.

“Let me help you...”

Had she heard that silent suggestion, too? She hadn’t pulled her hand away. He watched her lips part.

“Are you a good guy?” she asked.

“Trick question,” he replied. “Would I tell you if I wasn’t?”

“Probably not.”

“Everyone says I’m one of the good guys. Well, most people would, I guess, if they knew me.”

She nodded warily, sighed softly, allowing these moments to linger because of his silent influence on her.

“Where are you headed?” Kellan asked.

“To my car. It’s behind me, in that garage.”

“Do you think you can drive?”

“I’m pretty sure I can’t, but I’m going to try. My legs won’t hold me up much longer, and I’d rather not be seen like this by anyone I work with. Besides, I doubt if I could make it back to the hospital’s front door.”

“If I carry you to your car, will I be responsible for the accident waiting to happen between here and your home?”

She stared at him mutely.

“How about if I take you home and we avoid all those other potential problems?” Kellan suggested.

“You can’t take me anywhere, because I don’t know you.”

“Then I’m not sure what kind of help you need.”

She shook her head, spreading more of her subtle perfume in the wind. That scent was like honey.

“This is seriously embarrassing,” she said. “There’s no need to worry about me. I’ll call my partner for help. I’d be grateful if you’ll just stay here until I do, so that no other...”

“Stranger?” he supplied when her sentence dangled. “So that no other Harley-riding yahoo might approach you on the street?”

“So that no other person dares to come to my aid, and I have to start over, behaving like an idiot,” she clarified, looking up at him. “And so that no one looking out of a hospital window might assume I’m not up to the tasks assigned to me there.”

Currents of electricity continued to slam Kellan through his grip on her fingers. He had to monitor his reaction to each physical jolt.

The woman had palmed her cell phone but hadn’t used it. Kellan wanted to know what she might be thinking. When would she realize that a stranger was holding her hand? This unplanned touch had to be unusual behavior for her. It certainly was unusual for him. He never made physical contact with mortals unless absolutely necessary, and he kept clear of them whenever possible. Too much contact, too much exposure to another beating heart’s welcoming warmth, and a Knight’s blood oath might be called into question.

This woman’s fingers were cold, proving that she should have known better than to walk around with wet hair. Yet he sensed heat radiating off her, beneath her coat, and he wondered how long it would take before his desire to possess this mortal got the better of him, despite what she’d just said about having a partner to call. Another person in the picture could muddy things up quite a bit.

He detected something else. Silver. She carried a pocketknife. The folded blade produced an additional buzz on the periphery of his senses.

“Are you ill?” he asked, releasing her hand.

Only then did she look at her fingers. “Tired,” she replied. “Too damn tired.”

“Okay. I’ll wait for you to use that phone. Go ahead and dial.”

She raised the cell phone, pushed several tiny buttons and held the phone to her right ear. “Officer Randall...” she started to say, then paused to clear her throat. “Ex-officer Randall on the line for Detective Miller.”

As she listened to the response on the line, Kellan filed that information away. She had mentioned being a cop in the past, and had mistakenly used that old title now. Possibly her training was the reason she had spoken to him in the first place. The cop in her might assume at first glance that a guy on a tricked-out bike could potentially mean trouble, whether or not she was in any condition or position right now to address that kind of trouble.

Then again, maybe she had responded to his call.

Was she a doctor? Nurse?

“I see,” she said to the phone. “No. Don’t patch me through. I have Miller’s cell number, and this isn’t important. I’ll get back to him later. Thanks.”

Her arm dropped. Kellan caught the phone before it hit the ground, lamenting that there would be no lusty night ahead with warm sheets and warmer bodies, given this woman’s current condition. If she wasn’t sick, she was close to it.

She needed help. More than she knew. The damn werewolf was fifty feet away and closing in, drawn to weakness like a moth to a flame and unaware of what kind of fate awaited if it attempted anything monstrous here tonight. Blood Knights weren’t known for mercy when it came to dealing with predators.

Since he couldn’t tackle that problem at the moment, however, and in public, Kellan had to handle things another way. He’d see this woman safely off the street. Even if his hopes were dashed and she proved not to house a special spirit, the pretty blonde would be another in a long line of people he’d protected.