image in the mirror. The stranger who stared back at him was unrecognizable.
A thick beard covered a face made more angular with weight loss, the cheekbones more prominent. His mouth looked the same, set in its usual grim line, but his eyes had changed. He leaned closer, peering intently into the green orbs to work out exactly why. The shape hadn’t altered, and they were still fringed by the long, dark lashes he’d hated so much as a boy. They’d caused him a fight or two during his early teens until his ferocity and downright dirtiness earned him grudging respect from his peers. But the girls were a different story. His mouth tugged up at the memory of their reaction to him during those same years. They thought him soulful and mysterious. He’d seen no reason to disillusion them, especially once he realized one look could charm the pants off any girl that took his fancy.
Older and wiser now, he’d reformed from his bachelor years and immersed himself in police-work. Seeing the worst humanity had to offer, day to day, had a way of hardening soft edges. The murder of his sister obliterated the stubborn ones completely, leaving him an empty, jagged shell. The frown between his brows had become permanent. Tragedy had shaped him into a man most people instinctively kept at a distance, a man formed of hard edges, a man even he didn’t like.
And then he realized what had changed. A hint of warmth reflected in his gaze, a spark of life, where before there had been only the, don’t screw with me, cold-eyed stare. Not wanting to dwell on the cause, he turned his attention back to ridding his face of bristles.
Swishing the blade through the water, Nate stretched his chin and bit by bit, revealed the man beneath the mask. A new man emerged and he smiled at the imagery, wondering if he could live up to it. A cool breeze touched his newly naked cheek with a feathery touch, and he turned his head.
“Jesus Christ!” The hand holding the blade on the edge of his jaw jerked sharply. The nick stung, but not nearly as much as the shock at seeing what stood beside him.
Not Jesus. Just me.
His sister, Thea, stood beside him, the crooked grin he’d missed like hell on her translucent lips. Tears blinded him as he gazed at her, afraid to blink in case she disappeared as abruptly as she’d appeared. Blood from the cut trickled down his neck but he ignored it, his attention fully focused on the impossible.
“Thea,” he finally whispered and reached for her. Sorrow flitted over her features as his hand passed through her. His fingers curled into his palms. “God, I’ve missed you. You have no idea.”
The sadness intensified. Oh, but I do, Nate. I’ve been watching you systematically destroy your life, pushing people away for far too long. She smiled gently, and a subtle feeling of warmth flooded his body from the center out. You weren’t to blame for my death. Nor are you responsible for Wade getting off. True justice caught up to him here on this plane anyway. It was more terrifying than you can imagine.
Nate’s eyes widened as a mental image flashed into his brain, but before he grasped it completely, it was gone. He was left with the feeling he’d glimpsed something no mortal should ever lay eyes on, leaving him shaken to the core, nausea swirling in his stomach.
Why haven’t you found him, yet? Thea interrupted his thoughts. You have to keep looking. You were wrong. It’s time to acknowledge that or risk losing another you care about.
He shook his head, his gaze never straying from the illusion. “Who? The people I cared about were taken from me. There’s no one left.” Kelly’s image flooded his brain, and he shook his head to clear it. At the knowing smirk on his sister’s lips, he scowled. “Get out of my head. And what am I doing talking to a ghost?” He straightened and raised his voice. “You’re dead and I’m crazy.”
“O’Leary?”
Startled, his gaze shot to the closed door.
“You okay? I
A thick beard covered a face made more angular with weight loss, the cheekbones more prominent. His mouth looked the same, set in its usual grim line, but his eyes had changed. He leaned closer, peering intently into the green orbs to work out exactly why. The shape hadn’t altered, and they were still fringed by the long, dark lashes he’d hated so much as a boy. They’d caused him a fight or two during his early teens until his ferocity and downright dirtiness earned him grudging respect from his peers. But the girls were a different story. His mouth tugged up at the memory of their reaction to him during those same years. They thought him soulful and mysterious. He’d seen no reason to disillusion them, especially once he realized one look could charm the pants off any girl that took his fancy.
Older and wiser now, he’d reformed from his bachelor years and immersed himself in police-work. Seeing the worst humanity had to offer, day to day, had a way of hardening soft edges. The murder of his sister obliterated the stubborn ones completely, leaving him an empty, jagged shell. The frown between his brows had become permanent. Tragedy had shaped him into a man most people instinctively kept at a distance, a man formed of hard edges, a man even he didn’t like.
And then he realized what had changed. A hint of warmth reflected in his gaze, a spark of life, where before there had been only the, don’t screw with me, cold-eyed stare. Not wanting to dwell on the cause, he turned his attention back to ridding his face of bristles.
Swishing the blade through the water, Nate stretched his chin and bit by bit, revealed the man beneath the mask. A new man emerged and he smiled at the imagery, wondering if he could live up to it. A cool breeze touched his newly naked cheek with a feathery touch, and he turned his head.
“Jesus Christ!” The hand holding the blade on the edge of his jaw jerked sharply. The nick stung, but not nearly as much as the shock at seeing what stood beside him.
Not Jesus. Just me.
His sister, Thea, stood beside him, the crooked grin he’d missed like hell on her translucent lips. Tears blinded him as he gazed at her, afraid to blink in case she disappeared as abruptly as she’d appeared. Blood from the cut trickled down his neck but he ignored it, his attention fully focused on the impossible.
“Thea,” he finally whispered and reached for her. Sorrow flitted over her features as his hand passed through her. His fingers curled into his palms. “God, I’ve missed you. You have no idea.”
The sadness intensified. Oh, but I do, Nate. I’ve been watching you systematically destroy your life, pushing people away for far too long. She smiled gently, and a subtle feeling of warmth flooded his body from the center out. You weren’t to blame for my death. Nor are you responsible for Wade getting off. True justice caught up to him here on this plane anyway. It was more terrifying than you can imagine.
Nate’s eyes widened as a mental image flashed into his brain, but before he grasped it completely, it was gone. He was left with the feeling he’d glimpsed something no mortal should ever lay eyes on, leaving him shaken to the core, nausea swirling in his stomach.
Why haven’t you found him, yet? Thea interrupted his thoughts. You have to keep looking. You were wrong. It’s time to acknowledge that or risk losing another you care about.
He shook his head, his gaze never straying from the illusion. “Who? The people I cared about were taken from me. There’s no one left.” Kelly’s image flooded his brain, and he shook his head to clear it. At the knowing smirk on his sister’s lips, he scowled. “Get out of my head. And what am I doing talking to a ghost?” He straightened and raised his voice. “You’re dead and I’m crazy.”
“O’Leary?”
Startled, his gaze shot to the closed door.
“You okay? I
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