Yet she knew where she was going, and followed that instinct.
Her feet were cold. When she looked down, she realized she was only wearing Logan's T-shirt. A hysterical giggle escaped her lips.
What if someone came out of their room and found her like this?
What time was it, anyway?
The pull was stronger now, drawing her toward the end of the hall.
Not much time left, Sophie. Not much time. Hurry.
Faster, that was it. Why wouldn't her legs move faster? She had to get there before it was too late. She had to.
Logan was counting on her. His family was in danger, and this was the moment she'd dreamed of for so long.
Logan, why aren't you here with me? Rubbing her temples, she pushed past the throbbing pain.
Where was Logan?
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And how the hell did she get in this hallway?
She swiped at the mist with her hands, as if the very act could clear her vision.
But it didn't.
The floor was cold. Ice cold. Not carpeted. Not comfortable.
And she smelled something. Something that burned her nostrils.
Bleach, maybe?
Her foot connected with something solid, bruising her toe.
"Shit!" Limping along, she followed the trail, refusing to acknowledge the pain in her toe.
Soon, it grew numb, although for some reason she couldn't walk very well.
Straight forward. That's it, you're almost there.
Look down, Sophie. Look down.
She did, but all she could see were the clouds in front of her. Everywhere around her.
Dammit, she needed a fan. Something to blow the white mist away so she could find it.
It.
What was it?
Stop! Now look to your right!
There it was! With a giddy excitement she crouched down and reached for the white box.
No, don't touch it!
Quickly snatching her hands back, she railed in frustration, looking around as if she actually expected someone to be there.
"What the hell am I supposed to do? I have to touch it. I have to stop it."
But nothing was said in response.
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Screw it. She was going to find out what it was.
"Stop what?"
Her heart slammed against her chest as the mist cleared and she found herself looking into Logan's confused face.
"Sophie. What the fuck are you doing down here?"
"Huh?" Down where? Where was she? Think, Sophie, think. "I...I don't under...Logan! The box!"
He tilted his head. "Sophie, you were dreaming. Sleepwalking or something. Come on, let's go back upstairs.
His voice was a soothing lifeline, offering her reality and something solid, instead of the dream...
The dream!
"Logan, we have to stop it!"
He gripped her by the arms and hauled her into a standing position. "What the fuck are you talking about? Stop what?"
She tried to pull away, to get to the box. Finally, she heard it. "Dammit, let me go!
It's ticking!"
"It's what? What do you mean it's ticking?"
She tried to reach it, but he got to it before she did.
It wasn't even enclosed, just sitting in a plain white box.
And ticking.
"Holy shit. It's a bomb of some kind."
From the hushed tone of his voice, she knew he was right. "Let me see it."
"Fuck no, get back."
She pulled away from him and dropped to the ground. "Don't pull me away! I can stop this!"
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"Sophie. Goddammit, we have to get out of here. Christ, my parents, my family is staying here. We have to evacuate the hotel! Now!"
He tried to drag her away. He didn't understand that she knew. She could stop it.
Summoning forth her magic, she pushed him away, putting up an invisible wall so he couldn't try to stop her.
"Sophie! Shit, Sophie we have to get out of here now!"
"No! Don't move!" Without even looking at him, she froze him to the spot.
Thirty seconds. She read the numbers on the clock attached to the bomb.
What was she doing? Logan was right. She didn't know a damn thing about bombs.
Her hands began to tremble and nausea rolled within her stomach, threatening to erupt.
Not now. Stay calm. Use your psychic strength.
She heard the voice and nodded, reaching for the wire she knew would be there.
The red one. She had to pull the red wire.
"Sophie! Stop that! Don't touch it, for Christ sake!"
She couldn't listen to him. Closing her eyes and muttering a quick prayer to all that was holy, she yanked the red wire with fifteen seconds to spare.
The clock stopped ticking and she collapsed to the ground, sweat pouring from her body as she realized how close they had come to dying.
All of them.
"It's okay," she managed through shaky breaths as the wall dissolved and Logan dropped to his feet beside her.
She had no strength left. "It's okay, Logan. I stopped it in time."
But she'd almost been too late. "I'm so sorry, Logan. I'm so, so sorry." She'd almost been too damn late to save them.
Blissful darkness enveloped her.
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*
Logan paced the confines of the bedroom, his mother's assurances that Sophie was all right unable to still the anger, the outright fear at what might have happened.
He still didn't understand it, least of all what Sophie had been doing downstairs in the laundry room in the middle of the night. Crouched over a bomb.
The doctor had examined her, pronounced her just fine, but suffering from shock.
He'd assured Logan that Sophie would wake soon.
His mother had sat with them for an hour, until he finally convinced her to go back to bed. The rest of the family followed suit.
Fortunately, he'd managed to keep the situation contained. The bomb squad closed the laundry room and removed the box.
He'd answered every question he could for the police, but he had no answers.
Tomorrow, the staff would have to be interviewed. He'd given the list of every hotel employee and guest to the police. No one was allowed to enter or leave the hotel until everyone had been interrogated.
Shit. Great PR for the hotel. A bomb nearly exploded. He needed to get Shannon and Max on public relations as quickly as possible. Another mental note to add to the hundreds already fighting for space in his weary brain.
But he still didn't know how a bomb had gotten into his laundry room.
Or who had put it there.
Or how Sophie had managed to find it.
He stared down at her, sleeping like a beautiful angel, her raven hair strewn across her pillow, her lips together in a sleeping pout that he found sexy as hell.
She looked so innocent.
Was she? Or was she as guilty as she'd looked when he'd discovered her downstairs?
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Confusion filled him. That, and fear that maybe he didn't want to know the answers she held inside.
She'd tried to stop it, he reminded himself. No matter what, she'd tried to stop it.
Hell, she'd done more than try. She'd done it. She'd known which wire to pull, and she sure as hell was no bomb expert.
Or was she? For all he knew, she was a bomb expert. Or maybe the whole thing had been faked. Maybe the only reason she'd tried to stop it was because he'd caught her in the act of setting the bomb.
Christ, what the fuck did he really know about her?
Not nearly enough. Shit. Not nearly enough.
"Talk to me, Sophie," he whispered, collapsing into a chair next to the bed. "I need some answers. I need the truth."
He needed sleep.
And a clear head.
"Logan?"
Sophie's sleepy voice registered and he opened his eyes, wincing at the crick in his neck.
How long had he been asleep?
He blinked, frowning at the full sunlight streaming into the room.
"Hey, you awake in there?"
The sound of his mother's voice registered, too.
She smiled as she entered, then her face beamed as she looked at Sophie.
"You're awake, ma belle! Bonjour! We were all so worried about you."
Sophie reached for her forehead. "I get a bit forgetful after...after..."
"A vision?" his mother finished for her.
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"Yes. Sorry." She sat up and stretched, her breasts outlined against his T-shirt.
Logan tried not to notice.
"Give me a minute and it'll come back to me."
"Nonsense. You have plenty of time." His mother turned to him. "I've ordered coffee and croissants. They're out in the kitchen."
"Thanks, Mom," Logan said, wondering if Angelina had the same suspicions as he had.
His mother sat on the bed. "You saved my family, this hotel, and everyone here.
Thank you."
Sophie's eyes widened. "The bomb. Oh my God, the bomb! Is it disabled?"
"Yes, it is. You did it."
"I did?"
"Yes, cher. You did it."
Tears streamed down Sophie's cheeks and she threw her arms around his mother.
Then they both cried tears of joy.
Logan didn't feel joy, though.
He still had questions. Questions he couldn't believe no one had thought to ask.
"How did you know the bomb was in the laundry room, Sophie?"
She stilled, and both she and his mother turned to gape at him.
"What?"
"You heard me. How did you know?"
"Logan, I've told you about the visions."
"Uh-huh. Which doesn't have a damn thing to do with the fact that not only did you slip out of my bed in the middle of night, but I followed you to the laundry room and watched you disable the bomb. What, did you have second thoughts about blowing up the hotel?"
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His mother's eyes turned a stormy black. "Logan Storm! How dare you!"
"Oh come on, Mother," he said, refusing to believe Sophie's wide-eyed look of shock. "Didn't anybody wonder how she knew the bomb's location, or how she knew that pulling the red wire would disable the timer? Or am I the only one who made that connection?"
"Logan, I had nothing to do with that bomb. I wasn't even awake when I went downstairs. At least, not in the way you think. My visions, my magic, told me where it was, led me to it, and showed me how to disable it."
He crossed his arms, more convinced than ever that he was right. "Right. How convenient. Your magic."
"Logan, this is outrageous!" his mother objected. "How dare you treat Sophie this way! She saved our lives!"
"Yeah, she did, and wasn't that convenient? Here she is now, the family hero, ingratiating herself even further with the entire Storm clan. You played it perfectly, didn't you?"
Sophie didn't respond, just stared at him, open-mouthed, as if she couldn't believe what he'd said.
"My family might be blind to your lies, Sophie. But I'm not. In fact, I'm sure the police would like to know what a little bomb-maker you really are."
"Bomb-maker?"
"That's right. You made the bomb. You were going to blow up the hotel, or at least made sure I'd find you just as you disabled it. Yeah, your dramatic show was pretty good. I'll give you that much. But I think you orchestrated this whole thing, from start to finish."
"That's enough, Logan," his mother warned, then turned to Sophie. "Please do not think for a moment that any of us believe what he says."
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"It's okay, Angelina," Sophie said, her voice so soft he barely heard her. "I think I know exactly what Logan means."
She slipped off the bed and reached for the black dress. "If you'll excuse me, I'd really like to go home now. Angelina, would you mind calling me a taxi?"
"Of course, cher." His mother glared at him, and stormed from the room muttering about how she didn't blame Sophie for not wanting to spend another moment in Logan's apartment.
He stood there, unable to believe his mother was simply going to let her walk.
When she came out of his bathroom, she smoothed the dress and stopped in front of him. "I'll be at my shop if the police are looking to talk to me."
She turned away and left, shutting the door quietly behind her.
His mother hadn't left, though. In fact, his father had entered the apartment and was engaged in quiet conversation with her. Galen looked up and glared angrily at Logan.
"Are you daft, boy? What possessed you to accuse the little colleen of trying to harm us?"
Even his father had fallen for her lies. "The evidence is clear."
"Evidence. Bah! She saved your ass, son. Hell, she saved us all."
"Your father is right, Logan," Angelina said, anger clear in the dark fury of her eyes. "I understand your reluctance to let anyone into your heart. God knows I've tried my best to help you understand and embrace your magic. If you were open enough to the gift you have, you'd know already that Sophie was innocent. We all know it, because we feel it. You keep yourself closed off and remote from us as if we're all lepers and you're afraid you'll be infected. Well, no more, Logan. I'm ashamed to call you my son."
Tears pooling in her eyes, Angelina hurried from the room.
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His father stepped toward him and shook his head. "And I'm ashamed to call you a Storm. Grow up, son."
His father didn't leave as quietly. The sound of the door slamming echoed down the empty hallway.
Shit! How had he become the bad guy here?
And he still hadn't gotten any goddamn answers. She'd left fast enough, no doubt because she hadn't developed her lies yet.
Well, he'd see her, and demand the answers he sought.
Because he wasn't wrong here. He wasn't, no matter what his parents said.
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Chapter Fourteen
"Good lord, Sophie, you could have been killed!"
"No shit, honey. What the hell were you thinking going after that bomb?"
Sophie looked to both Sam and Josh and shrugged. "I did what I had to do."
She hadn't told them about Logan, about his accusations that she had planted the bomb.
It just hurt too much to even think about it, and yet his angry words resounded over and over in her mind. Swiping away the tears, she tried for a smile.
"Honey, what's wrong?" Sam asked, wiping a tear away with her thumb.
What would she do without her two best friends?
"I...I can't talk about it."
"Come on, Soph," Josh urged, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. "You can lean on us. That's what we're here for."
The tears flowed freely as she allowed herself to feel the miserable sensations living within her. "Logan," she managed. "He thought I did it."
"What?" Sam said, her eyes widening. "That's insane!"
"Why in the hell would he think that?" Josh asked, his words biting, anger evident and growing. "I told you he was an asinine prick."
"Well he did find me in the room with the bomb. And I knew how to disconnect the timer. In some ways I can understand that."
"But if he loved you, if he knew you like we do, he'd know there's no way you could do something like this," Sam said.
They were right. He should have known. But he didn't believe her, didn't believe in her.
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Didn't love her.
Both Sam and Josh accepted what she'd done without asking for explanation.
Because they knew her. More importantly, they trusted her
.
She'd never had Logan's trust. And she never would. From the first time he'd met her, he thought she was trying to deceive him and his family, and he'd go on thinking that no matter what she said or did.
"I need to go home." She wanted a shower, a change of clothes and needed to spend a few hours letting out the pain she'd been holding inside since she left the hotel.
She stood, but Josh wouldn't let her go. "I'll take you home. Sam, can you watch over the shop today?"
"Of course." Sam hugged her and said, "Go, get some rest. We'll talk later."
She nodded and let Josh lead her out to his car. The drive home was quiet, and fortunately Josh didn't press for details of her conversation with Logan. He followed her inside and said he'd make some tea while she took a shower.
It felt good to wash away the day before, at least physically. Mentally and emotionally...that was going to take some time and effort. Donning a pair of sweats and a loose shirt, she slipped through the beads and curled up on the sofa. Josh had a hot cup of herbal tea ready and sat down next to her.
She sipped the tea, knowing he was expecting her to talk about Logan. But she couldn't. Talking meant thinking about it, and his accusations were still prominent in her mind. What she needed was to push them away, not talk about them so they'd hover nearby.
Josh smoothed the wet tendrils of her hair and pulled her closer. Admittedly, it felt good to be comforted, to know that she had at least two people in her life who truly believed in her.
"I warned you about him," he said, kissing the top of her head.
She let out a small laugh. "That you did."
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"I could kill that sonofabitch for hurting you like this, Soph."
Holding the tears at bay, she looked up at him. "I appreciate that, Josh. But I knew what I was getting into with Logan. He was honest with me, told me he didn't trust me, didn't care for me. Yet I stupidly believed I could change his feelings."
"Just because you knew where the bomb was, and how to cut the red wire doesn't mean you planted it there. God, doesn't he know about your magic?"
"I guess not. He just assumed..." Wait. Something was wrong here. Sophie stilled, her mind trying to process what Josh had just said.
No, she was wrong. She must have mentioned the red wire somewhere in her explanations, right? Forcing herself to remember the short conversation she'd had with both Josh and Sam at the shop, it occurred to her she'd never really given details to either of them, and it was way too soon for any police or news reports to be out.
She gently pushed away from Josh's chest and sat up, not wanting to ask the question, not wanting the suspicions that had crept into her mind. "Josh, how did you know about the red wire on the bomb?"