Shards: Book One of the Anderian Series

Chapter 2: Bad Ideas

"Bria! Damn it, wake up!"

I jolted upright with gasping breaths. Firm hands clamped down on my shoulders, urging me back to the floor. The tile was painfully cold against my clammy skin, but I welcomed the sensation because it was mine. Just mine.

That had been the most intense echo I'd ever experienced. Twice before, I'd accidentally chosen an object that projected the viewpoint of the killer, but despite the disturbing angles, they had been standard visions. It was supposed to be like watching a video—or how a video would be if you could catch hints of emotion from the camera person—but this was like hitching a front seat in the killer's mind. A killer who didn't seem entirely human. Maybe someone a little like me?

Warm, callused hands cupped my face. "Stay with me Bria."

"I'm fine," I said, pulling the hands off me and rolling to my side. Two seconds later, I vomited everything I'd eaten today while Jac freaking Grisham stood back and watched with an expression one might almost call concerned, which was a fucking joke. Jac Grisham did not do concerned for anyone but himself.

"Talk about contaminating a crime scene," Jac said.

Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I got to my feet slowly, hoping to hide the fact that everything was still spinning. Or maybe it was my head that was spinning?

"The biohazard remediation crew will take care of it," I told him, brushing past him to head to the front door, using the wall to keep myself upright. "You know I wouldn't be here if they hadn't already been called in."

"Funny you should say that. I was driving by to see if they were here, and imagine my surprise when I saw your car out front."

Cold air caressed my heated cheeks, and I gripped the porch railing, leaning over it as I sucked in lungfuls of fresh air. Of course, this would be his case. Jac's presence was a damn inconvenience, because I needed to walk through the echo. Eyes closing, I rushed through the vision, shocked to discover not a single image had faded. Not even the certainty that the killer been aware of me at the end.

"Were you really surprised?" I asked him, opening my eyes when I was sure it wasn't my imagination—the images really weren't disappearing.

The Stone City Detective propped himself against a post and ran his hazel eyes over my body, no doubt mentally filing everything he saw. It was hard to turn off the cop brain. That's what I told myself as I returned his scrutiny.

It had nothing to do with the fact that his bone structure could have been the inspiration for Greek statues or that his white button up stretched so deliciously across broad shoulders and made his tan skin look even darker and more sun-kissed.

"Stop it," he snapped, straightening and adjusting his pants as my gaze continued south.

If I remembered correctly, that rich nutmeg hue covered his entire body, even the globes of his ass. I'd loved admiring the contrast between our skin when he moved between my thighs.

"Bria." There was a hard warning in my name, but it wasn't as hard as the member between his legs. It strained against the thin material of his suit pants. He could pretend all he wanted I was a nuisance, but it didn't stop him from wanting me.

Or me from wanting him.

"Shit," I groaned, turning away and getting control of myself. I'd been careful for so long, I'd forgotten how my body reacted when I used my gift like this. How many times had I pushed the limits while working a case and then dragged Jac into the nearest closet so he could fuck my brains out?

"It's not a good idea," he said, and it wasn't. It was the worst idea, but he didn't sound as convicted as he should.

"It's the worst," I whispered, heat pooling between my legs as the breeze carried his scent to me. Sandle wood and ocean. "But you started it."