She knew, more than Dale did, exactly how vulnerable this house was to dark forces.
Demons could still break through the frail barrier of white light and creep in through cracks between the windowsills, wiggle their way into the basement.
She’d dozed off for a couple of hours. Now, the blue lights of the small clock radio glowed three o’clock, the hour of demons.
The thick band around her upper arm felt reassuring and did not cut into her skin. The reminder of her tie to Dale Curtis would protect her against the Centurions. But what would protect Dale? Her crystals were drained and needed replenishing.
How much more evil was hiding below in the dark?
Keira threw back the covers and went to the dresser. Her meager possessions were in the top drawer, including the last crystal that held pure white light. Every time the demons allowed her freedom, she used her spare time to learn the healing arts of Luminaires, and used some of the money they gave her to lure fresh victims to purchase crystals.
She cupped it in her hands, relishing the purity and soothing peace, then placed it on the nightstand by the bed. As she started to drift back to sleep, something rattled in the kitchen.
Trembling, she gripped the bedcovers. Perspiration soaked the clean bed sheets. Calm down, demons don’t invade the kitchen late at night....
But restless men tortured by them did.
Keira threw back the sheets and shrugged into her white terry-cloth robe. She slipped out of her bedroom and stood at the kitchen door.
Wearing a robe of his own, Lt. Commander Dale Curtis stood at the opened refrigerator door, staring at the contents.
Keira cleared her throat. “See anything good?”
Fork held out like a weapon, he whirled around. Dale relaxed when he saw her. “Couldn’t sleep. Sorry I woke you.”
“I was awake, as well.” She turned on the overhead lights, dimming them.
Dale looked haggard beneath the soft illumination. She wanted to go to him, assure him all would be well and he could safely sleep again in his own house. But she knew it would be a lie.
Because nothing was safe until the Centurions were put in hell for good. The demons, once Roman soldiers in their time, were condemned to the netherworld for their cowardice, never to walk in flesh until they acquired the courage they lacked in battle.
When they’d found a way to escape hell, they found a shortcut to becoming corporeal. By torturing good, brave men, and stealing their strength, they became solid form and were able to enjoy the pleasures they had in Roman times.
They had found the bravest man of all in Dale Curtis.
He poured a glass of milk, offered her one. She shook her head. Her stomach was too queasy. Dale lifted the top of the glass cake holder and cut a slice. Her gaze wandered to the robe’s hem, stopping just above his knees, showing his strong calves.
She joined him at the table.
“Amazing. Absolutely delicious.”
He licked the tines of his fork, and a tingle shot through her body as she watched his tongue slowly stroke the utensil. Dale closed his eyes, long, black lashes lying against his stark cheeks. His face was all angles and planes, but his eyes, laser-sharp, were his most arresting feature.
Dale’s mouth, usually pinched and compressed, now relaxed. He licked his lips and she sensed he did so on purpose. Fascinated, she watched, wondering what it would feel like to have Dale Curtis’s mouth pressed over hers, his tongue tasting her with the same pleasure he now exhibited tasting her cake.
His eyes flew open and he looked at her with amusement as heat filled her cheeks.
“It’s very good cake.” He pushed away his barely touched slice.
“You’re not having more?”
“Just a taste. I have to work back slowly to getting my strength. Too many calories and I’ll go to fat.” He drained the milk.
Keira swiped a finger through the frosting and licked her finger. “Indulging yourself once in a while is permitted.”
“Not for me.”
“Why are you so rigid?”
“I’m navy. It’s part of my life. Discipline and training, that’s what makes a SEAL. And endurance and strength.”
“You’re not a SEAL or a commander here in your home. So kick off your shoes and relax. Have a slice of cake. A whole slice.” Keira sighed with renewed pleasure at the enticing taste of the chocolate. “Life is short and you never know what tomorrow brings, so enjoy every moment. That’s my philosophy.”
“And never letting down my guard is mine.” Dale reached over and stroked a corner of her lip, wiping off frosting with a finger.
He brought it to his mouth. Keira’s heart kicked hard as he licked his finger. Her body felt loose and wanting.
Dale’s gray gaze burned like fire. He looked hungry, but not for food. She drew back. She couldn’t risk liking this man. Or lowering her guard and trusting him.
“After we work together, you’ll get to relax and sleep,” she told him.
“I haven’t slept through the night in a long time.”
“When we start working on fine-tuning your inner frequencies, you’ll have to relax and let down your guard.”
Dale stiffened. “Impossible. The moment I let down my guard, look what happens. I get a damn demon in my basement attacking one of my men. I should have brought Sully up here, let him sleep in the guest room.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Maybe. But there is plenty of evil out there in the world and I’m not allowing it to ruin the lives of innocents.”
Keira sighed. “Stop focusing on the bad guys. There will always be the bad guys out there. You have to channel positive energy to beat back the darkness inside you.”
“Evil must be punished. There’s no gray area about it. You saw the demon attacking Sully. You think that should be pardoned?” Dale threw out the rest of the cake, went to the sink and washed his plate.
“No. But if you consistently look for the bad, you’ll find only the bad. You have to look for the good in people, as well.”
He needed to heal and recover. Instead, the man held himself as rigidly as a ruler and refused to indulge in an entire slice of cake.
“Discipline and training helped me to become a SEAL and it’ll help me regain my strength.”
“I heard SEALs are the best of the best. But you can’t focus all your time on searching for evil. There is good in the world.”
Keira had to believe it, had to find the good each time the Centurions released her. The day her inner white light died, she would want to die, as well.
“That’s not my job, to look for the good—it’s to search out the evil and eliminate it so other Americans can sleep through the night.” He traced a line on the tablecloth.
Her heart ached for the man. He risked his life so others could experience peace, but he enjoyed none himself. She went to the refrigerator to get some juice and paused, remembering what she’d seen earlier. Tacked to the refrigerator door was a child’s crayon drawing of a man next to an American flag. There was also a photo of a little boy blowing out candles on a cake, flanked by an adoring couple.
A note was pinned to the refrigerator. She read it aloud.
“‘We can’t thank you enough for what you did for our son. Because of you, Josh is celebrating his seventh birthday. You are a true hero. Josh drew this picture of you and we thought you’d like to have it.’”
She