Inevitable Series 04 The Unrelenting Page 3

  He spotted the older man crouched down, his hand sweeping leaves from the flat marble headstone before him. He looked up as Blair drew near. His eyes had a haunted quality to them that sent a stab of guilt through Blair.

  Frank straightened. "What are you doing here?" he asked but there was no accusation in his voice, just curiosity.

  "I called your house and your housekeeper told me you'd be here. How have you been?" He glanced down at the marker. At the words carved into the cold stone.

  Beloved Brother.

  The guilt dug deeper, twisting his gut.

  "You amaze me, Blair."

  Blair looked up, taken off guard by the statement. "What do you mean?"

  "After what my brother tried to do to you, I would think I'd be the last person you would worry about."

  "Hey, man, you lost your brother. I know that must hurt no matter what he might have done."

  "I wanted to call you," Frank said, his voice apologetic. "To make sure you were okay but I thought you might somehow blame me and that--"

  "Blame you?" Blair couldn't believe what he was hearing. "If you hadn't told Jim where to find me, I'd be dead. Mr. Croft, you saved my life."

  "Please, call me Frank. And Blair, I don't know what your partner told you but he's the reason you're alive not me. I wasn't going to help him or you. I wanted to protect Jarred no matter the cost. In the end, my hesitation cost you some broken ribs." His eyes clouded over with regret and pain. "And my brother his life."

  "Would it have worked?" Blair had wanted to ask that question since that day. Part of him didn't believe it was true. But there was another part of him that wondered… "If Jarred and Rebecca had been able to complete their plan, would it have worked?"

  Frank shook his head. "I honestly don't know. Because of what you are....it very well might have."

  A chill stole over Blair. In that moment, he was glad for his partner's presence so near. "You know about Rebecca?"

  He nodded. "The prison called and asked if I wanted anything in particular done with her remains." His gaze fell once more to his brother's grave. "I guess they didn't know she's the one who put Jarred here," he whispered.

  "I'm sorry, Frank." Blair rocked back on his heels. He shouldn't have come here. He should have just left a message at the man's house and waited for him to call. Why had he been so anxious? He felt foolish now invading his privacy this way.

  "How are things going for you?" Frank asked, his tone concerned.

  "Fine," Blair lied.

  Frank moved forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You came all the way out here because you're fine?"

  Blair dropped his gaze to the ground, embarrassed at being caught in such an obvious lie. "I'm sorry. It's just...I feel like I'm invading here."

  "I'm glad you're here, Blair. I'm glad you felt comfortable enough to come to me." His hand tightened on his shoulder. "Now tell me why you're really here."

  "I've read a lot about Shamanism and I know you said I was a Shaman. But I don't feel any differently than I did before any of this happened."

  "Blair, being a Shaman doesn't mean you suddenly have mystical powers. It's a philosophy of life. And from what your partner said about you, it already sounds like you live that philosophy. It's what makes you able to help him the way that you do."

  "So there's nothing I should be doing to hone my....skills," he said for lack of a better word.

  "I'm not sure what you're looking for, Blair. But if you'd like to get together and talk some time--"

  "Are you free tonight?" Blair blurted out. "I know it's short notice but maybe we could get some dinner or something."

  Frank smiled. "Dinner would be fine." Putting a hand to the middle of Blair's back, Frank began steering him back toward Jim and the truck. "Why don't you come to my house tonight around five."

  "That'd be great. Thanks."

  Frank nodded toward Jim. "He really watches out for you, doesn't he."

  "Yeah, well, he worries." Blair glanced at Jim. He leaned against his truck, arms crossed, staring off into the distance. Is he listening? It didn't look like he was but Blair had no real way of knowing. "I've never had that before. Someone who worried about me like that."

  "No family?"

  "My mom but she's a free spirit, big on independence and self-reliance. I don't really get the chance to see her all that often. I've pretty much been on my own since I was sixteen so I learned to take care of myself." Blair thought about those years on his own. As much as he'd liked his freedom, he could remember many lonely nights when he wondered if there would ever be anyone in his life who would care enough to stick around more than a few weeks at a time. "My whole life changed when I met Jim," he said quietly.

  "I think his did, too," Frank said from beside him.

  Blair glanced at the older man, surprised by his insight. "We're partners," he explained. "We watch out for each other."

  "That's the nature of the Watchman and his Guardian. The two cannot function alone and must come to trust and depend on each other above all else. That bond is your greatest strength but you must be cautious because it can also be your greatest weakness as well."

  Blair nodded, taking in every word.

  "The stories of the Watchman and his Guardian has always fascinated me," Frank continued. "I never believed in my lifetime I would meet such a team. You are rare and special, both of you. Never take for granted the gift you've been given."

  "I won't," Blair said, his gaze once more on his partner.

  ########

  Jim steered the truck toward the station as if on automatic. He had heard what Blair had said to Croft. Normally, he would have let his partner have his privacy but until he trusted Frank Croft, he needed to know what he was proposing to his Guide. But Jim had almost tuned out when Blair started talking about his mother, knowing his words were not meant for Jim to hear. Yet he hadn't stopped listening. Couldn't. Because Blair shared so little of his past with Jim.

  He had always assumed his partner's resistance to call his mother when he was hurt stemmed from her dislike of him working with Jim. That letting her know every time he was injured would just confirm what she had once told him - he's not cut out for this work. Now Jim realized he simply didn't want to bother her.

  I've pretty much been on my own since I was sixteen.

  Jim had never known that. He couldn't help but wonder how many times Blair had been alone or hurt and had had no one to turn to. Jim was going to make damn sure that that never happened again. That Blair was never put in a position of having to deal with a difficult situation on his own.

  Like the position I put him in with Alex.

  He cringed inwardly at the thought, still amazed that Blair had been able to trust him again after Jim had let him down when he needed him most.

  "What's wrong, Jim?" Blair asked, cutting through his thoughts. "You haven't said two words since we left the cemetery. Are you angry that I'm going to see Frank later?"

  "No, Chief, I have no problem with you seeing him." He knew Frank Croft could very well give Blair the peace of mind he so desperately needed. He wasn't about to stop him from that. "I didn't get any indication that he was lying. I think he sincerely wants to help you. You'll be fine with him."

  "Then why so quiet?"

  "Just thinking about some of the things that were said." Jim glanced at his partner but Blair didn't seem to be angry or surprised that Jim had listened. Had, in fact, admitted those things about himself and Jim knowing he was probably listening. Once again, Jim was amazed by his generosity of spirit. "Blair, did you notice that Croft used the phrase the Watchman and his Guardian twice. I couldn't help but wonder if he was using it in that way to imply something more specific between us."

  Blair considered the words for a moment. "You mean like one Guide per Sentinel?"

  "Yes but more than that." Jim paused. He'd had this thought before but had always felt that it would somehow be selfish of him to admit it to Blair. To even consider it to be
true. But now more than ever he was sure he was right and he needed to know if Blair agreed. "Chief, do you think it's possible that you were meant to be my Guide specifically and no one else's?" He glanced at Blair out of the corner of his eye. His partner sat, staring ahead, his brow slightly creased as he considered the words. Jim's hands tightened on the wheel of the truck. He was right. He was sure of it. There was no other explanation for the connection he felt to the young man beside him. It was not just the Sentinel / Guide bond but something more. There was an ease with Blair that he'd never had with anyone else. Not his father or Stephen or even Carolyn.

  "I don't know, Jim," Blair said after a time. "It would explain why we clicked so well so fast. I mean, if we were meant to come together all along...it explains a lot in my mind. And Jim, I kind of like the idea." He glanced at Jim but dropped his gaze to his lap, as if embarrassed by the admission.

  Jim reached out and gripped Blair's shoulder, squeezing gently. "Yeah, me too, Chief."

  #######

  Frank Croft carried his bag of groceries into the house and set it on the counter. He'd stopped at the market on the way home to pick up some fresh vegetables for the stir-fry he planned to make for his dinner tonight with Blair. He wanted to make the visit as pleasant and comfortable as possible. Was hoping to make the visits a regular event between the two of them.

  He truly wanted to help Blair to better understand what it meant to be a Shaman but at the same time, was also hoping to learn something more about the young Guardian and his Watchman.

  He knew he couldn't bombard Blair with questions tonight. Had to wait until the young man felt comfortable with him, could trust him. But if he could open a dialogue between them, he knew they could both benefit from a continuing relationship.

  He wanted to know how these two men had met. How long it had taken them before they realized how important they were to each other. Because even from the little he'd seen of them, Frank believed one could no longer function without the other. That they had become integral to each other, their lives forever intertwined. Yet Frank had seen something in Blair's eyes. Something that told him that their strong bond had come at a price. That they had--

  Frank tensed, sensing the presence behind him seconds before a gun pressed into his back.

  ########

  Blair spent the afternoon with Jim at the station finishing up the last of the paperwork that Simon had assigned them over the last month. With Blair's ribs healing, they'd spent most of the last month tied to desk duty. Jim hadn't complained once but Blair knew Jim was getting antsy to get back out on the streets. Truth be told, so was he.

  Now as Blair drove toward Frank Croft's house for dinner, he couldn't help but think about the conversation he and Jim had had while driving back from the cemetery. Was it possible it was fate that the two of them should meet? Was it his destiny to be Jim's Guide? All his life he had believed in free will. Fate seemed so limiting to him, like he had no choice in life. But now...the idea of being fated to meet Jim, to be in the exact right place that was meant for him specifically appealed to him. Gave him a place and purpose.

  He steered his car to the curb in front of Frank's house and cut the engine. Pulling off his glasses, he rubbed his eyes. As much as he was looking forward to this dinner, he would be happy when he got back to the loft and could crawl into bed. Maybe he'd even get a good night's sleep for a change.

  Pushing open his door, he stepped out of the Volvo and headed toward the house. But as he neared the front door, he realized it was already open. His brow creased. Had Frank opened the door in anticipation of his arrival? Did he expect him to just walk in?

  He stepped up on the porch and knocked lightly on the half open door. "Frank?" he called, shoving the door wide. "Frank, it's Blair." He stepped over the threshold, closing the door behind him. He stood in the foyer and listened but heard nothing but the ticking of a clock from the other room. Maybe he just ran out to the store. Lost track of the time. But Blair didn't believe that.

  Something's wrong.

  The two words rushed through his mind with a certainty that made his breath come in shallow gasps.

  Get out of the house!

  But he couldn't. Not until he found Frank.

  Blair no longer called out. Instead, he moved slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible. Pulling his cell phone from inside his jacket, he flipped it open and held his finger over the speed dial to Jim.

  "You couldn't insist on coming to dinner," he muttered. He reached the kitchen and stopped just outside the doorway. Pressing his back against the wall, he listened. Nothing. Just that same ticking clock.

  Steeling himself, he glanced around the corner to the kitchen and his heart seemed to stop in his chest.

  "Oh God." He froze unable to enter the room, unable to flee the house. Frank Croft sat tied to one of the kitchen chairs. His head hung limply forward. His chest still. Blair could see the blood and bruises that covered his face. Moving stiffly forward, he placed shaking fingers to the side of the older man's neck. Nothing. No pulse. He punched the speed dial to Jim.

  The line was answered after one ring. "Ellison."

  Blair stood against the counter, staring at Frank's lifeless corpse. "Jim," he choked out.

  "Blair, what's wrong?" Jim's concerned voice flowed over him, helping to steady him.

  "Jim, Frank's dead." He closed his eyes, willing back the sudden flare of emotions the words brought on. "It looks like someone...someone beat him to death."

  "Where are you, Blair?"

  He looked up, his gaze once more on the man who had saved his life. Who could have taught him so much about himself. "I'm with Frank." "You're still in his house?"

  "Yes, can you--"

  "Get out of the house." Jim's voice boomed through the receiver.

  Blair blinked several times, taken off guard by the sudden harshness of his partner's voice. "Jim, I-"

  "Get your ass out of that house. Now!"

  Blair pushed away from the counter, fear pumping through him. "What's wrong?"

  "Blair, whoever killed Croft could still be there," Jim explained, his voice more calm. "Go to your car, get inside, lock the doors and don't get out again until I get there. If anyone approaches your car before I get there, drive away. Do you understand?"

  Blair was already halfway to the door. "I got it."

  ######

  Jim walked through the house again, looking for anything the forensics team might have missed. He didn't believe the beating had killed Frank Croft. The wounds simply were not bad enough to be fatal. Maybe the old guy had a heart attack brought on by the beating. Jim wouldn't know for sure until after the autopsy. But the cause of death was not the most important question in Jim's mind. He wanted to know why Frank Croft had been beaten. What had his assailants been trying to find out?

  His gaze traveled once more to the large window in the front of the living room. He could see his partner outside, sitting against the fender of his truck. Blair had told him he would go inside with him, be his backup. It had taken some talking but Jim had convinced him to stay out. Now as he watched him, tuning in to his heartbeat and respiration, he knew Blair would be having a whole new set of nightmares tonight.

  Might even have a few more of my own.

  But it wouldn't be the body of the man they had found tied to the chair in the middle of the kitchen that would haunt Jim's dreams. It would be Blair. Because Jim knew that Frank Croft's death following Rebecca Lowry's so closely was no coincidence. And Blair was the link between them.

  "Jim, we're going to transport now."

  Jim turned toward Serena. "Okay, I want all the reports coming to my desk."

  "No problem." Her gaze shifted to the window. "How's Blair?"

  "I'm about to find out." Jim headed out of the house. He could see Blair just ahead. His partner was on the phone and Jim's brow creased as Blair's heart rate suddenly shot up. Jim sent out his sense of hearing, trying to pick up the voice on the other e
nd of the phone. But he was too late. The line was already dead. Blair dropped his arm to his side, not bothering to shut off the phone.

  Jim stopped just behind him. "Who was that, Chief?"

  Blair spun toward Jim, his face pale, his hands shaking. "What?" His gaze fell to the phone clutched in his hand. "No one," he said a little too quickly.

  "Sandburg, I can hear your heart slamming into your ribs. Who was it?"

  "It was the head of my department. I missed a meeting today and he's pissed." He slipped the phone back into his pocket and began backing toward his car. "I have to take off."

  Jim reached out and easily caught his arm, stopping him. "I know you have more sense than this, Chief."

  Blair pulled out of his grip but made no move to leave. "Jim, please, just let me go."

  "Blair, you went to see Rebecca Lowry yesterday. She was killed within a few hours of your visit. This morning you talked to Frank Croft and now he's dead. You think those deaths are a coincidence?"

  Blair shook his head, running a nervous hand through his hair.

  "You're the link between them and until we figure out what's going on, I'm not letting you out of my sight. Now tell me who was on the phone."

  "I don't know," Blair said softly. "I didn't recognize the voice."

  "What did he say?"

  "He told me to go to the corner of Piermont and Stead and wait. A black Ford explorer would pick me up in one hour."

  "And you were just going to go?" Jim ground out, stunned by his partner's willingness to put himself in that kind of jeopardy.

  "He said if I didn't, you'd end up like Frank." He looked at Jim, his eyes darkened with fear. But Jim knew it was not fear for his own safety but fear for his Sentinel.

  He's protecting me. Again.

  "Blair, this is not Rebecca Lowry locked safely in jail that you're going to meet. This is a man who just beat Frank Croft to death. Probably to get information about you."