What the Heart Desires

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Heaven paced near the bay window inside her parents’ den. She ignored the twinge in her back, the way it made her muscles tighten like a rubber band stretched to its limit. No matter how much she wanted it to stop, it hadn’t eased within the last thirty minutes, and she doubted it would.

Right on cue, a pinching sensation made her gasp. She clutched the area above her hip and slowed her pace. Now was not the time for her body to complain about its recent a***e. She needed to keep busy because sitting didn’t ease her racing heart. Neither did the twelfth chime of the grandfather clock.

As the last note hung in the air, it served as a painful reminder. The morning was gone, and so was her husband.

Once she turned away from the window, she brought her phone to her chest and tapped the screen until Dylan’s number appeared. For the umpteenth time, she hit the call button and placed it to her ear. The line rang, but like her previous calls, no one answered.

Her imagination got the best of her when an array of images played through her mind. Each one included her husband’s lifeless body. Graphic didn’t describe them. They were mind-shattering, especially the last one of Dylan lying on the ground, his throat slit.

Heaven dropped her hand back to her side and released her phone. It thumped against the floor, but she didn’t care if she’d broken it. She released the breath she’d been holding and sobbed.

The bench cushion cradled her bottom when she collapsed onto it. Each muffled cry caused her chest to heave. She searched for Dylan through their connection, but the harder she concentrated on finding his energy, the more her head buzzed.

The ache in her chest intruded on her thoughts. So did the sound of footsteps shuffling across the floor. When they stopped, the cushion beside her gave. Comforting arms wrapped around her chest while a set of hands warmed her knees.

“Hev?” Hope’s voice rang with uncertainty. It only made Heaven cry harder.

“Sweetheart, don’t do this to yourself.” Delia’s voice replaced Hope’s as it vibrated against Heaven’s shoulder. “He’s okay. He’ll come walking through the door any second.”

“Will he?”

The shrill tone of her voice made her wince. Though her sister and her mother-in-law meant well, their attempts to comfort her failed. She saw their doubt. Neither believed what they were saying, but they wouldn’t admit it.

“Heaven, you know my son,” Delia said as she patted her back. “He’s a fighter. He would battle the devil to get back to you. And he will come back.”

Dylan was a fighter. He also had intuition guiding him along the way. But even the best fighters had a chance of losing, and intuition didn’t catch everything.

Breaking free of Delia’s embrace, she slid to the edge of the cushion. “I don’t need to be coddled. If you want to help me, let’s search for your son.”

Delia and Hope focused on the opening to the den. Heaven gripped the edge of the cushion in anticipation. Perhaps Dylan had snuck in while they were talking…

The wishful thought vanished once Scott entered the room. He shot past the sofa to the bench where Hope kneeled beside Heaven. Whatever caused him to rush into the room evoked worry within her sister.

“Are you okay?” Hope asked.

“Yeah, but…” His eyes shifted from Hope’s to the wooden planks on the floor. Guilt weighed on him. “I did my best, but it isn’t working.”

“What isn’t working?” Heaven asked. “Are you guys keeping something from me?”

No one answered. Not at first, but it was Hope who broke the awkward silence. She patted Heaven’s knee and replied, “Scott was using his abilities on you. We wanted to keep you calm until Dylan came back, but it isn’t working.”

“Good. I don’t want it to work. I want to sense Dylan if he…” Her lips trembled again. She met her mother-in-law’s gaze, unable to keep the tears from falling. “I can’t feel him, Delia. I should be able to sense him.”

“Your daughter is preventing it, and she’s the reason Scott’s abilities aren’t helping.”

Heaven wiped a few tears from her cheeks and concentrated on Delia. “What do you mean?”

“You’re getting stronger, Heaven. So is your daughter. She’s blocking your emotions from anyone she thinks will upset you. She’ll do anything to protect you, even block you from sensing her father’s emotions.”

“Why would she block us from sensing each other? Unless something has happened.”

The sound of the front door opening and closing gained Heaven’s attention. Someone had entered the house. Footsteps echoed through the hall, growing louder by the second.

When Scott and Hope stood, Heaven pushed off the cushion and joined them. They faced the opening, waiting to see who had arrived. It had to be Dylan this time. At least, she prayed it was.

A moment later, two people stepped inside the room.

Heaven’s heart sank. It was only her parents. The lack of Dylan’s presence tore at the peace holding her together. It wouldn’t be long before her tears returned.

“Well, we’re back.” Her mother didn’t hesitate near the entrance for long, nor did her father. They made quick strides across the den. The compassion she expected to see wasn’t there. Weariness and disappointment replaced it.

Delia must have noticed too, because she patted Heaven’s arm as she asked, “How did the search go?”

Heaven’s mother didn’t respond. Instead, she lowered her eyes and pressed her lips in a thin line. The gesture made Heaven’s stomach roll.

“We didn’t find anything,” her father answered.

It grew difficult for Heaven to remain on her feet. What little strength she had faded, and she fell back to the cushion. Tears blurred her vision before spilling over. There was no way of stopping them, so she dropped her head into her hands and wept.

“He’s in trouble. I know he is. I feel it in my soul.”

She ignored the sympathetic words coming from all directions as more energy trickled into the room. The instant she gazed up, Layla and Dane walked inside. Spencer wasn’t far behind them.

All three joined the group huddled in front of her. She hated the way everyone stared at her like a cracked Faberge egg.

“Still no word?” Layla asked.

“No,” Delia answered.

Heaven focused on the ache in her chest. The same ache spread through her body, making the muscles in her stomach cramp harder.

“Ouch,” she whispered.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Delia asked. She pressed her palm against Heaven’s navel. A few seconds later, she adjusted its position. After going all the way around Heaven’s belly, her hand stilled. “You’re having a contraction.”

“I know,” Heaven cried, “but I need to find Dylan. What if he’s hurt? What if he—?”

“Don’t say it. He’s not dead, Heaven. He’ll be here. Please trust me.” Delia caressed her stomach again, hesitating on the spot where the baby last moved. “You need to calm down, for your child’s sake. She’s in protective mode, Heaven. She’s trying to keep you calm, and it’s stressing her little heart.”

“Listen to her,” Hope urged. “Please stop crying.”

“I can’t!” Heaven squeezed her eyes shut and clutched her belly. If she didn’t calm down, she’d deliver her daughter tonight.

A wave of heat broke through the fear clouding her mind. She opened her eyes to the same spot where her sister stood, but it wasn’t Hope staring at her. It was Layne.

His jaw flinched.

The rapid rise and fall of his chest made his nostrils flare like he was out of breath. He knelt in front of her, cupping her knees. “What’s wrong with her?”

“She’s having a contraction,” Delia answered.

The heat within him increased. “Where’s your son?”

“I wish I knew, Layne, but we still haven’t heard from him.”

Delia stood and walked past him, but he said nothing else. He remained on the floor in front of Heaven, studying her. He stroked the inner sides of her knees with his thumbs.

She hated the concern she saw. He didn’t need to worry about her. After all his near-death experience in the city alley, he needed to heal. If something happened to Dylan, she’d need him more than ever.

The mere thought made her shiver. A fresh trail of tears dampened her cheeks as she glanced away.

“Heaven, look at me.” Layne’s words, barely a whisper, affected her. She met his gaze. “Focus on my voice. Don’t think about anything but the sound of it. Will you do this for me?”

“I don’t know if I can.” No matter how hard she fought the urge, her lips quivered again.

“You’re not concentrating. Look into my eyes.”

He leaned closer, holding her gaze until the tears receded. Instead of pulling away, he moved his hands to her belly. Their warmth radiated through her shirt when he pressed against it.

“I want you to close your eyes and visualize yourself in the woods.” As soon as she did what he asked, the sound of his voice returned. “Notice the scenery surrounding you and tell me what’s there.”

The harder she fought to clear her vision, the less she saw. “I’m not sure. Everything is blurry.”

“Center yourself, Heaven. Find a tree and focus on its trunk. Tell me what you see.”

She concentrated on his voice, the way a hint of tenderness hung in each word. The same tenderness filled his touch when he thumbed over her stomach. A blanket of heat swaddled her, chasing away the chilling effect of her fear. Within the warmth, she found the courage to blink her mind’s eye. Yet nothing appeared.

Then she blinked again.

It was as if someone had flipped a switch. Month-old leaves rustled under her feet. They covered the barren ground in various piles, their multicolored hues long faded. No grass peeked through, but despite the lack of vegetation, there were plenty of trees to admire.

Eyeing the grooves in one trunk, she followed the lines until her head tipped backward. The branches formed a natural barrier overhead. If it were spring, leaves would block her view of the sky.

“I see a maple tree in front of me.”

“Good,” Layne replied. He swept over her stomach, soothing the tightness within it. “What else do you notice about the tree?”

“There are two cardinals on a branch. A male and female. I think they’re building a nest.”

“You’re doing great, Heaven. Now, tell me what you hear and smell.”

A nearby brook babbled in the distance. She inhaled the crisp, clean air, noting the rain. “I hear water flowing, and it must have rained because the air smells briny.”

Another wave of heat burst from Layne’s palms. He moved his hands around her navel in alternating circles. He repeated the motion until every inch of her skin swirled with heat.

When the tightness waned, Layne’s throat cleared. “Okay. Let the scenery fade around you. Once it does, I want you to count to three. Then open your eyes and look at me. Okay?”

“Okay.”

The sound of the brook, the smell of rain, even the maple tree, faded. Darkness consumed her once more, and she counted backward, reaching three a few seconds later.

Daylight filtered into her eyes when she opened them. The brightness made them sting, but she ignored the sensation and stared at her Keeper.

“Hey,” he whispered.

“Hi,” she replied, unable to stop herself from reaching for his cheek. No matter how soft his voice sounded, his energy still beat with concern. She trailed her fingers to his jaw before he caught her hand. He eased it from his face, not to remove it, but to press his lips to the center.

“You’re okay.” His assurance pulsed inside her palm as he kept it to his lips. “I’m here to protect you, both of you.”

Another stroke of his thumb decreased the heaviness in her chest. His attention shifted to her stomach where his hand lay. Curiosity spiraled inside him, curiosity that caused the corners of his mouth to lift. Even the hand atop her belly grew warmer.

Once the remaining pressure disappeared, she drew in a deep breath. She was in awe of Layne, of the way his presence fueled her anger one minute and soothed her fears the next. “How did you do that?”

Placing a slight amount of space between his body and hers, Layne tilted his head toward Delia’s Keeper. “It’s a technique I learned from Spencer. I’ve used it a few times and figured it would help you.” He glimpsed at her lips, hesitated, and then shifted his eyes to the ground. “I’m glad to see it did.”

A wall formed between them. He pushed up on his knees and stood in front of her. When he stepped away, her heart pinched. It caused their connection to tremble and Layne to face her again. His brow rose.

“What’s wrong?”

She parted her lips to answer but shut them again. She wouldn’t ask him to stay by her side, wouldn’t ask him to comfort her while she waited for her husband to return. It would be unfair, and yet, knowing it was unfair didn’t make her need him any less. He was the only person she wanted near her.

Damn fate and its twisted sense of humor…

“Nothing’s wrong, Layne. I’m fine.”

It wasn’t easy lying to him. It may have been easy for Faith, but not Heaven. She played with a loose thread on the cushion and waited for him to leave. He had other things to do. Babysitting her wasn’t one of them.

The cushion beside her dipped with someone’s weight. Her thoughts had consumed her so much she hadn’t noticed Layne lowering his body to the bench. He leaned into a pillow but didn’t look at her. The way his brows knitted together had her drawing her bottom lip between her teeth.

His anger was the last thing she needed. If he said one cross word, she’d be a blubbering mess.

Layne drew her into an embrace, resting his head atop hers. All the sadness reforming in her heart disappeared. She leaned her cheek against his chest and closed her eyes.

Everyone was staring. Their energy spoke of it, but Heaven ignored the vibes and snuggled closer to Layne. He tightened his arms around her at the same time Delia suggested everyone give them privacy. When Heaven no longer sensed their presence, she tilted her head back and opened her eyes.

“Thank you, Layne.”

“For what?”

“For being here. For helping me. For getting me. I don’t have to say a word, yet you already know how I feel.”

The moment he caressed her face, she fell silent.

He said, “It’s our connection, isn’t it?”

She concentrated on his voice, how it wavered with curiosity. He still didn’t know about the affinity they shared, unless one of their parents told him. If they had, he would have mentioned it by now.

Or so she thought…

“Yes. It’s our connection, Layne. It’s why I’m so adamant about our friendship. I want to be close to you. I need to be close to you.”

“Heaven…”

He couldn’t finish, only stammered over the words twisting his tongue. When she touched her fingers to his cheek, his lips stopped moving. Warmth pulsed around her and his eyes fluttered closed. He formed a mental wall between them, but it crumbled the second she buried her face against his neck.

“Please, don’t push me away, Layne. I need my friend.”

The heat of his breath tickled her ear. He brushed the hair from her face before cradling the back of her neck. “I’m right here, Heaven. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

They were only words, but coming from him, they provided comfort. So did his touch. He’d give his life for her and wouldn’t think twice. He’d promised as much months ago and he’d lived up to his word in Cleveland.

The ticking clock reminded her of a similar promise—Dylan’s promise. He’d vowed to never fail at protecting her long before they married. Despite his passive abilities, he would do so at all costs. But the price for her safety wouldn’t be cheap.

His disappearance proved that fact.