Read Online Dragon's Blood (Black Planet Book 1) by Belinda McBride - Free Book Online
Authors: Belinda McBride
Ads: Link
don’t know when I knew, just one day I looked at you and I wanted to kiss you.”
She looked up at him, and he was shaken by the sadness on his face.
“I loved my wife, I really did, Annie. And one day I looked at you and loved you as well. Why do you think I turned away from you after she was killed?” Saying it should free his soul, even just a tiny bit. Instead, the expression on her face crushed him, and once again, he relived that old feeling of guilt.
Guilt. Not survivor’s guilt like hers, but the primal emotion that whispers dark thoughts. Perhaps this happened because I was unfaithful. Perhaps this happened because I willed it .
“She’s gone, Aiden. Neither of us was at fault.” He nodded, swallowed, and his eyes burned with tears, long unshed. “We can only deal with it. Deal with the killer. And then we go on.”
“Together?”
“I don’t know, Aiden. I really don’t know.” She took another step back, gathering her self-possession. “We need to go.”
He nodded, following her example, and pulled himself back under control. “Where do we start? Back at the ring?”
“Yeah, then we’ll work our way back to the outer wall.”
“It’ll go faster if we split up.”
She turned and looked up at him, staring until he felt more than a little humbled.
“Okay, okay, I’m food and it can smell me.” He laughed uneasily.
“If it’s trailing you, it’ll have to deal with us both. And this time, it won’t win.”
* * *
T he trail had gone cold fast. In fact, there wasn’t a trail. They canvassed the area using her instincts and his senses, to no avail. In frustration, they returned to Annie’s home, high above the alleys and waterways. She had a high tech lock installed on her door, and even to Aiden’s critical eye, the place looked secure. She slid the panel door aside, allowing him in. Apparently her family had lived here for years. The small apartment was spotlessly clean and spare.
Against the window-lined wall, several bonsai grew and flourished. Many were ancient, some very young. He went across the room to look. He’d never seen anything like them. Not in person.
“My grandfather Tanaka taught me about bonsai.”
He squatted, looking at one that must surely be ancient. It was an evergreen, perhaps a cedar. The trunk of the tree was twisted and gnarled, graceful and elegant in its antiquity.
She disappeared into a room and within moments Aiden heard the water running. He grinned. She probably got only cold water here unless she had a small solar heater, and given the foggy conditions of San Fran, that wouldn’t be particularly effective.
He was grimy as well and now regretted the decision to stop by her place. His big tub would be a welcome indulgence. The water shut off, and she emerged wearing a thigh length silk kimono and a towel wrapped around her hair.
“That was fast.”
She grinned and tossed him a dry towel. “See how long you can stand it!”
He caught the towel and she laughed, walking into the kitchen. He heard the clatter of pans and smelled the heat of a propane fueled flame. When she didn’t return, he walked into the small bathroom and looked around, smiling at the row of orchids along the broad sill of the open window. Plants flourished at her touch.
The shower stall was small, and rather than being lined with brittle plastic or salvaged tile, it was tiled with rock—round river rocks on the walls, flat, shimmering granite on the floor. There was no retaining divider from the rest of the room, the water ran from the shower to a drain on the floor. It probably led to a recycling tank. Or even straight out to the bay.
Once under the frigid water, Aiden saw the point in showering as quickly as possible. He was still hot and sweaty from their journey through the underbelly and upper reaches of Wharf. The cold water nearly sizzled on his overheated skin.
He thought back to that rooftop kiss, the press of her body against his, and for a brief moment
She looked up at him, and he was shaken by the sadness on his face.
“I loved my wife, I really did, Annie. And one day I looked at you and loved you as well. Why do you think I turned away from you after she was killed?” Saying it should free his soul, even just a tiny bit. Instead, the expression on her face crushed him, and once again, he relived that old feeling of guilt.
Guilt. Not survivor’s guilt like hers, but the primal emotion that whispers dark thoughts. Perhaps this happened because I was unfaithful. Perhaps this happened because I willed it .
“She’s gone, Aiden. Neither of us was at fault.” He nodded, swallowed, and his eyes burned with tears, long unshed. “We can only deal with it. Deal with the killer. And then we go on.”
“Together?”
“I don’t know, Aiden. I really don’t know.” She took another step back, gathering her self-possession. “We need to go.”
He nodded, following her example, and pulled himself back under control. “Where do we start? Back at the ring?”
“Yeah, then we’ll work our way back to the outer wall.”
“It’ll go faster if we split up.”
She turned and looked up at him, staring until he felt more than a little humbled.
“Okay, okay, I’m food and it can smell me.” He laughed uneasily.
“If it’s trailing you, it’ll have to deal with us both. And this time, it won’t win.”
* * *
T he trail had gone cold fast. In fact, there wasn’t a trail. They canvassed the area using her instincts and his senses, to no avail. In frustration, they returned to Annie’s home, high above the alleys and waterways. She had a high tech lock installed on her door, and even to Aiden’s critical eye, the place looked secure. She slid the panel door aside, allowing him in. Apparently her family had lived here for years. The small apartment was spotlessly clean and spare.
Against the window-lined wall, several bonsai grew and flourished. Many were ancient, some very young. He went across the room to look. He’d never seen anything like them. Not in person.
“My grandfather Tanaka taught me about bonsai.”
He squatted, looking at one that must surely be ancient. It was an evergreen, perhaps a cedar. The trunk of the tree was twisted and gnarled, graceful and elegant in its antiquity.
She disappeared into a room and within moments Aiden heard the water running. He grinned. She probably got only cold water here unless she had a small solar heater, and given the foggy conditions of San Fran, that wouldn’t be particularly effective.
He was grimy as well and now regretted the decision to stop by her place. His big tub would be a welcome indulgence. The water shut off, and she emerged wearing a thigh length silk kimono and a towel wrapped around her hair.
“That was fast.”
She grinned and tossed him a dry towel. “See how long you can stand it!”
He caught the towel and she laughed, walking into the kitchen. He heard the clatter of pans and smelled the heat of a propane fueled flame. When she didn’t return, he walked into the small bathroom and looked around, smiling at the row of orchids along the broad sill of the open window. Plants flourished at her touch.
The shower stall was small, and rather than being lined with brittle plastic or salvaged tile, it was tiled with rock—round river rocks on the walls, flat, shimmering granite on the floor. There was no retaining divider from the rest of the room, the water ran from the shower to a drain on the floor. It probably led to a recycling tank. Or even straight out to the bay.
Once under the frigid water, Aiden saw the point in showering as quickly as possible. He was still hot and sweaty from their journey through the underbelly and upper reaches of Wharf. The cold water nearly sizzled on his overheated skin.
He thought back to that rooftop kiss, the press of her body against his, and for a brief moment
Similar Books
