"Marie-Terese..." There was so much he wanted to say, but none of it was his right...and none of it would be received well, "...is such a lovely name."

"You think?" When he nodded, she said something under her breath that he couldn't quite catch but that sounded a lot like, That's why I picked it.

She broke their contact by taking the check and holding it as she opened her purse. "I'm glad you liked the pancakes."

"What are you doing? Here, let me get that - "

"When was the last time someone bought you breakfast?" When she glanced up, she smiled a little. "Or anything, for that matter?"

Vin frowned and considered the question as she fanned out a ten and a fiver. Funny...he couldn't remember Devina ever paying for anything. Granted, he was always front and center with the cash, but still.

"I usually pay," he said.

"Not a surprise." She started scooting out of the booth. "And I don't mean that in a bad way."

"Don't you need change?" he said, thinking he'd do anything to keep her with him a little longer.

"I leave big tips. I know how bad it can be, working in a service industry."

As he followed her out of the diner, he put his hand into his pocket to get his keys and felt something small and out of place. With a frown, he realized it was the gold earring he'd taken from Jim's.

"Hey, you know what? I think I have something of yours," he said as they closed in on her car.

She unlocked her door. "You do?"

"I think this belongs to you?" He held out the hoop.

"My earring! Where did you find it?"

"My buddy Jim picked it up in the parking lot outside the club."

"Oh, thank you." She pushed her hair out of the way and put it on. "I didn't want to lose these. They're not worth much, but I like them."

"So...thanks for the pancakes."

"You're welcome." She paused before she got behind the wheel. "You know, you should take a day off. You look really tired."

"Probably just the bruises on my face."

"No, it's the ones behind your eyes that make you seem worn down."

As she slid in and started the car, Vin caught a flash from over on the left and he looked across the river -

The instant the sun hit his retinas, his body seized up and tingled all over.

There was no gradual, fogging possession this time. The hateful trance claimed him between one second and the next, as if what had happened the night before had been just a warm-up and this was the real deal.

Sagging against Marie-Terese's hood, he went for his coat, opening it so he got some air -  When the vision struck him, it was more sound than image and it replayed over and over: A gunshot. Ringing out and echoing. Someone falling. A body dropping on a thunderous bounce. A gunshot. Ringing out and echoing. Someone falling. A body dropping on a thunderous bounce...

As his knees buckled and he sank down onto the asphalt, he struggled to stay conscious, holding on mentally to anything he could - which turned out to be the memory of when he'd had his first attack. He'd been eleven and the trigger had been a watch, a ladies' watch that he'd seen in the window of a jeweler's downtown. He'd been on a field trip with his classmates to the Caldwell Art Museum, and as he'd passed by the store, he'd looked at the display.

The watch had been a silver one, and when the sunlight had hit it, his eye had focused on the flash and he'd stopped in his tracks. Blood on the watch. There had been bright red blood on the watch.

Just as he'd struggled to understand what he was seeing and why he suddenly felt so strange, a female hand had reached into the display and picked the thing up. Behind her, there had been a man standing with happy expectation in his face, a customer...

Except the guy couldn't buy the watch - whoever wore it next was going to die.

With the kind of strength that came only with full-bodied panic, Vin had broken the hold of the trance and bolted into the store. He hadn't been fast enough, though. One of the parent chaperones had raced in and caught him before he'd been able to say anything, and when he'd fought to get to the man and the watch, he'd been dragged out by the collar and condemned to wait in the bus while the others continued on to the museum.

Nothing came of the vision.

At least, not right away. Seven days later, though, Vin had been in school and seen one of the teachers in the cafeteria with what appeared to be the watch on her wrist. She'd been showing it off to her colleagues, talking about a birthday dinner she'd had the night before with her husband.

In that instant, a flash of sunlight on the playground slide had come through the window and captured Vin's eye...and then he'd seen the blood on the timepiece again, as well as much, much more.

Vin had collapsed on the linoleum of the cafeteria, and as the teacher had rushed over and leaned down to help, he saw with great clarity the car crash she was going to be in: Her head was hitting the steering wheel, her delicate face splitting open on impact.

Gripping the front of her dress, he'd tried to tell her to wear a seat belt. Get her husband to pick her up. Take another route. Take a bus. A bicycle. Walk home. But as his mouth had moved, nothing but random syllables had come out as far as he knew - although the horror dawning on the faces of the other teachers and the students suggested they were understanding what he was saying.

In the aftermath, he'd been sent to the nurse's office, and when his parents had been called, they'd been told he needed to go see a child psychiatrist.

And the teacher...the lovely young teacher with the thoughtful husband had died that afternoon on the way home from school with her new watch on her wrist.

Car accident. And she hadn't been wearing her seat belt.

When Vin had heard the next morning in his classrom, he'd burst into tears. Of course, a lot of kids had started crying too, but it was different for him. Unlike the rest of them, he'd been in a position to do something to prevent the outcome.

Everything had changed after that. Word had gotten out that he'd predicted the death - which made the teachers nervous around him and his peers either avoid him or ridicule him as spooky. His father had started having to beat him to get him to go to school.

Abruptly, Vin lost his train of thought, the past getting submerged by the seizure's command of his mind and body, his consciousness ebbing more than it was flowing...

A gunshot. Ringing out and echoing. Someone falling. A body dropping on a thunderous bounce...

Just before he passed out, the vision crystallized in his mind's eye, no longer just sounds but bona fide images...a sand castle being formed by the wind instead of worn away by it: He saw Marie-Terese with her hands up as if she were trying to protect herself, her eyes wild with terror, her mouth opening in a scream.

And then he heard the shot going off.

Chapter 19

About an hour after Adrian and Eddie showed up and made their hands available, Jim slung his leg over the old bike and turned the key. Planting the sole of his work boot on the strike pedal and slamming his weight down, he didn't have any real faith the thing was going to -  That trademark Harley growl sprang to life immediately.

As he cranked the throttle, the engine vibrated between his legs and he had to shout over the din. "Christ, Ad, you did it."

Adrian grinned as he wiped his greasy palms on a red chamois cloth. "No problem. Let's take her for a spin and check the brakes."

Jim rolled the bike out of the garage and into the sunlight. "Let me get my helmet."

"Helmet?" Adrian mounted his hog. "Never thought you were an Eagle Scout."

Jim came back out with his black-and-hard. "Avoiding head injury is not a pu**y move."

"But you gotta think about the wind in your hair, my man."

"Or the electrical plugs that'll keep you alive afterward."

"I got the dog," Eddie said, as he got on his own and held out his hands. The instant the opportunity presented itself, the little guy took a flying leap and parked it on the leather wrap over Eddie's tank.

Jim frowned, thinking he wasn't loving that. "What if you get into an accident?"

"I won't." As if the laws of physics didn't apply to him.

Jim was about to kibosh the deal when he saw how psyched Dog was to be on board, his claws curled into the cowhide like bliss was making his toes tingle, his tail going as fast as his butt would allow.

Plus, as the big man took the handlebars, his arms bracketed the animal.

Tags: J.R. Ward Fallen Angels Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net