Lian/Roch (Bayou Heat) Read Online Free PDF Page A

seeming to sense she was more than a little sensitive when it came to her ‘gift.’ “Please tell me,” he urged in a soft voice.
    A part of her wanted to walk away. This man already disturbed her on a level she didn’t entirely understand. Did she really want to make herself more vulnerable by revealing her deepest secrets?
    But another part sensed that this stranger was one of the few in the entire world who could understand.
    “When I truly looked at you I could see your cat. Not with my eyes, but…” She gave a shake of her head. “It’s hard to explain.”
    His fingers cupped her chin, his attention focused on her with an unnerving intensity.
    “What else?”
    She blinked. His interest wasn’t just a polite pretense. Or a fascination with the local weirdo.
    It was a genuine, intense desire to know.
    God. Could he actually reveal what was wrong with her?
    “There are some people who have outlines of shapes that dance around them,” she said, unable to actually describe the peculiar forms that she could see.
    Some were so vague they were nothing more than wisps of white. Others were solid human outlines that were filled with vibrant colors. Yellow, scarlet, plum and a dozen other hues. Each color seemed to represent a characteristic of the form. Loyalty, honor, courage, anger, lust…
    She wrinkled her nose. “I assume they’re ghosts.”
    “Not ghosts,” he corrected, his voice…reverent. “Ancestors.”
    Her heart gave a leap of hope. Yes. Ancestors who stood as protectors for their family.
    That seemed right.
    “How do you know?”
    He gripped her hands, his eyes blazing with the force of his cat.
    “Come with me, Dr. Parker,” he commanded. “I have the answers you’ve been searching for.”
    * * *
    The mansion in the Garden District of New Orleans was set behind high hedges and surrounded by a well-manicured lawn. The white two-story home was framed by a large pool on one side and a sunken rose garden on the other.
    At the back was a large grotto that was surrounded by several marble statues that were rumored to have been stolen from Versailles.
    The ten million dollar estate had once belonged to a prominent Louisiana family who were now buried beneath the recently remodeled garage.
    Stepping onto the balcony that ran the full length of the second floor, Stanton Locke leaned against the ornate wrought iron balustrade and pressed his cellphone to his ear.
    A tall man with dark hair he kept pulled into a short tail at his nape, he had a lean, dignified face, blue eyes and a slender form that was currently attired in a Armani suit.
    The sort of man who looked as if he should be living in a posh mansion.
    Few people would recognize him as the brutally poor orphan who’d grown up in the East End of London.
    Stanton, however, never forgot his cruel beginning. Or who had snatched him from the inevitable life of drugs and early death that had been his certain destiny.
    “You managed to locate him?” He spoke into the phone, his British accent honed until it sounded as if he’d attended a posh boarding school.
    “Yes,” Hank answered him, his voice rough. Unlike Stanton, the local thug had no desire to try and better himself. Which was fine. There was always a need for expendable soldiers. “But it doesn’t make any sense,” Hank added.
    “Explain.”
    “The house he’s visiting belongs to some hermit researcher.”
    “Researcher of what?”
    “Languages.”
    Stanton tapped an impatient finger on the railing, his mind racing.
    Could this be the opportunity he’d been waiting for?
    It was risky.
    “A human?” he demanded.
    “Yep.”
    “Intriguing.” He paused, weighing the danger of tipping his hand against the knowledge they were running out of time. “We need that Pantera,” he abruptly announced.
    He heard his soldier suck in a shocked breath. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
    Stanton understood the man’s reaction. Trying to capture a Pantera, even when they were away from