Riley was only partly listening to Quinn. She watched Sam go deeper into himself, his skin growing paler, his eyes more haunted and desperate. He glanced at the computer, then at Nick, obviously avoiding looking at her.
“Call me if you see anything,” he told Nick suddenly. In a few strides he was across the room, bounding up the stairs three at a time.
“Sam,” Nick called after him. A door upstairs slammed closed.
“Dammit!” Nick stormed across the room but stopped at the base of the stairs, his hand on the newel post. He turned to look at Quinn and Riley. “I can’t leave you two, but no one should be alone, even in the house.” The alarm pad on the wall next to the front door beeped. Nick checked it and cursed. “Balcony door opened. He went outside.” He tapped on the keypad for a few seconds. The beeping stopped.
“I’ll go to him.” Riley didn’t hesitate. Sam needed her, even if he was struggling to keep his distance. She wasn’t afraid of him, but for him.
Nick caught her arm when she reached him. “Wait.”
“What?” Riley moved up a couple of steps, anxious about leaving Sam alone too long.
“He’s not handling things well.”
She bit back the urge to defend him. It wasn’t his fault, but Nick didn’t sound like he was blaming him. “I know.”
“He’ll probably lash out. He won’t mean it, but he could hurt you.”
Her fingers tightened around the banister. She didn’t like that his words echoed her own thoughts but not in a reassuring way. “You don’t trust him?”
“I trust him with my life. And Quinn’s.” He shook his head. “That doesn’t mean anything.”
She nodded. “It’s okay. I understand what’s going on.”
“Do you?” He tucked his fingers into his jeans pockets and leaned against the front door. “Being a protector, you learn to look at the long-term consequences of something, not just the immediate situation. Dealing with stuff like this” —he tilted his head to indicate where Quinn and the surveillance were— “it’s easy to react in the moment. Especially when everything’s new.”
“What are you trying to say?” Riley shoved her hair behind her ear. “Are you giving me the ‘relationships based on intense experiences never work’ speech? Seriously?”
Nick laughed. “No. That might apply, too, but it’s none of my business.”
Except the glint in his eye told her it was very much his business. He and Sam might bicker like brothers, but they apparently loved each other like brothers, too.
“Then what?”
Nick glanced upstairs. “I’m saying take care of him. But be careful.”
He walked away, and Riley dashed upstairs.
The airiness downstairs was echoed up on the second floor. Skylights lined the slanted ceiling over the wide hallway that ran above the garage. Windows looked out on the driveway and the lawns sloping down to the road below. A cozy nook had been set up at one end, and a plush chair draped with a chenille throw sat next to a tall lamp on a side table. To the left of the stairs the hall was dimmer, narrower, and lined with twice as many doors as the bright side.
“Sam?”
Only the rolling surf answered her. She shouldn’t have been able to hear it from here. The roll-crash-hiss of the waves grew louder when she approached the open door of the last bedroom. The sun was on its way down on the opposite side of the house, so the room was dim, but French doors opened onto a balcony. Sam wasn’t visible through the glass, and Riley didn’t see him when she stepped out onto the cedar deck.
The sea breeze whipped her hair back, carrying laughter and squeals. Out on the sand, an old man wearing gigantic headphones waved a metal detector over two-foot patches of beach. Down the beach a little ways, a young couple watched two small boys running from the surf. But Sam was nowhere in sight.
The deck spanned this section of the house and turned the corner at both sides. Holding her hair back in the blustering wind, Riley tried to decide which way Sam would have gone. Before she guessed wrong, she closed her eyes and tried to sense him.
Trying turned out to be unnecessary. Instead of the buzz she usually associated with him, her awareness flared with a burning, golden light. When she opened her eyes, it was still there, though unseen.
She knew exactly where he was.
Chapter Fifteen
If there is one thing we have learned from the events of the last several months, it is that complacency, a belief that we understand all we need to about our gifts and the world around us, is a mistake. There is always more to discover.
Twilight closed in as Riley walked to the right. The sun cast long shadows toward the surf before being obscured by a cloud, dimming everything around her. It would have been a peaceful moment if she hadn’t been so anxious about Sam.
She paused at the corner of the balcony, which dead-ended halfway along the side of the house. Below them was an entire one-story wing she hadn’t realized was there. A pair of folded beach chairs leaned against the wall. Sam sat on the floor next to them, knees raised and feet flat on the floor. His forearms rested on his knees, one hand wrapped around the other wrist. His body rocked slightly, and the wild look hadn’t left his eyes.
Riley knelt on the boards in front of him. They’d already chilled in the shade, and the cold seeped through the knees of her jeans.
“Tell me.” She shifted forward so she could rest her hands on his legs. At the simple touch, his eyes closed and his body stilled. Riley wasn’t sure if he was soothed or holding tighter to control. His gaze flicked out over the water, down to the beach, then back, but he didn’t look at her.
“Nick said you got sick this time. During the transfer.”
He nodded slightly and barely moved his lips when he admitted, “Yeah, pretty bad.”
“Not the same as the first time?”
“Opposite.”
“And how do you feel now?”
He took a deep breath, his body moving with a conscious effort to relax. “Jittery. Tense. Like hopped up on too much caffeine, but not exactly.”
“Can you feel the power?”
A wry laugh escaped. “Yeah.”
“How?”
He lifted a shoulder.
“I mean, is it like a ball of energy, or more diffuse, or—”
“It’s just there. All through me.” He jerked his chin toward the water. “I want to swallow the ocean.”
“What else? Do you still feel sick?”
“Nauseous, yeah.”
Riley wasn’t sure where she was going with this. She wanted so much to help him, but only knew one possible way, based on the other night. And today seemed totally different. She should ask him straight out if he needed sex, but God, the very thought of saying those words tied her tongue.
“Have you tried using it?” she asked. “You know, drawing on the energy from the ocean and doing something, uh, goddess-like?”
He smirked and finally met her eyes. “Are you calling me a girl?”
“You should be so lucky.” She patted the side of his leg. “So try something.”
But he didn’t move, just studied her for a few moments. “What do I feel like?”
She understood what he was asking, even if he hadn’t phrased it exactly right. “You’re brighter. It’s not a buzz anymore. I can see you, though it’s not really visual.” She shook her head, frustrated. “I can’t really explain it. What matters is that whatever I’m sensing in you is stronger than before.”
He nodded. “That’s why I haven’t tried to use it.” He let go of his wrist and pressed his hands to the floor next to him. “It shouldn’t be like this. All desperate and crazed.”