by Jackie Ivie
“Jezebel?”
“Yes?” Her voice warbled. She frowned.
“Good. I’ve located you. You are well?”
It was GeHenna again, this time sounding like a British lord from something like the Victorian era.
“What is it?” Jezzie replied.
“Do not rush me, dearest.”
It was a warning and Jezebel only needed one. She straightened. Put her shoulders back. Regarded a blank wall. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” she finally replied.
“Excellent. So, tell me, my dear. Are you well?”
“Yes.”
“The accommodations at Hotel Pit meet with your approval?”
“Of course,” Jezzie replied easily. She lifted her hand and checked her nails as if it mattered.
“I’ve called about your assignment?”
“Adam Ballantine?”
“Why, yes. How did you guess?”
Jezzie’s mouth went dry. Her breath stopped. She hid both behind a heavy sigh and a desultory tone. “What has he done now?”
“He is attempting another stunt.”
“Well...that is what he does for a living,” Jezebel answered.
GeHenna chuckled. “Ah, yes. So he does. This one even has the outward appearance of being normal.”
“Oh. Good. I wish him luck with it.”
“You are not interested?”
“Why would I be? I can’t stop stupidity. If one chases death, sooner or later, one usually finds it.”
“True...but this stunt has an odd angle to it.”
“Really? How so?” Jezzie was pretending disinterest. It wasn’t remotely accurate. She nibbled on a fingernail as she waited.
“Your Adam is about to attempt to jump over a moving train while riding a dirt bike. It’s a large bike. Modified. Capable of this sort of maneuver. I believe he’s even done this before.”
“Has the bike been sabotaged or something?”
“Now, that is the interesting part.”
“Oh. I’m all ears.” Jezzie’s tone stated the opposite. Bored. Slightly annoyed.
“An email did come to our attention about this stunt.”
“So, it is being sabotaged.” Jezzie sighed again. “Where do I need to go?”
“In time, my dear. In time.”
Jezzie stopped chewing on a nail. Forced a nonchalant reply. As if none of this mattered. “But, of course,” she finally answered.
“As I was saying, an email was sent about this event.”
“Emails are sent about many things,” Jezebel responded.
“Yes. This one was sent to a member of the clergy. It doesn’t matter which team member sent it, or to which branch, or even what religion. What matters is the content.”
“And...you will tell me what that is?”
GeHenna chuckled again. “Of course. That is why I called.”
Jezzie’s hand tightened around the receiver. Her belly was coiled as if ready to receive a blow. None of that sounded in her voice as she parroted GeHenna’s exact words and intonation. “Of course.”
“He wanted to know if there was a penalty for – are you ready?”
“Yes.”
“The transgression he asked about was for setting up an angel.”
Jezzie’s mouth dropped open. “What?”
“You are being baited, my dear. I have to admit, that is quite the angle. Completely new in my experience. You agree?”
“Is...Adam a part of this?”
“Apparently.”
Jezzie blinked several times. Couldn’t seem to stop the stinging sensation. She listened to her breathing. Her heartbeat. Watched the wall alter as it blurred. Wondered why it hurt so much. And how she could be so stupid as to allow that.
“Are you still there, my dear?”
“Y-yes.” She stuttered. That was unfortunate.
“Well. What do you think?”
“I think...if Adam is participating in this, then I am no longer required to save him. True?”
“True.”
“Well, then. Thank you for the call.”
Jezebel almost had the receiver back on the base before GeHenna spoke again. The phone was out of focus. She was shaking. And a tear felt like it scalded as it slid down her cheek.
“I think you’re forgetting something, my dear.”
“I...am?” Jezzie snapped the receiver back to her ear. The words shook. She couldn’t disguise emotion better than this? She snarled at the room.
“You are off the hook, so to speak, but your Adam might be in real danger. Then again...I suppose you don’t care.”
Jezzie swallowed. Her ears popped. Her eyesight cleared. The wall came back into perfect focus. A span of gray-tinted sky-blue. Still just as mundane and unremarkable. “You suppose correctly. And I thought I asked you not to call him ‘my’ Adam.”
GeHenna gave a loud guffaw. “Oh, yes. You did. Let me give you his coordinates, just in case. And enjoy your stay at The Pit. I am very fond of that hotel. It’s so...soothing. Good bye.”
The connection ended. Jezebel set the phone back with a steady hand. And then she walked back into her bedroom.
CHAPTER EIGHT
He had a bad feeling about this.
Adam had never set up a stunt with a built-in failure quotient. It was opening a portal to Murphy’s Laws, that anything could go wrong...and probably would. He couldn’t shake the foreboding, despite Clint’s assurances. Clint was a statistician. At least, that’s what he claimed to have done before he joined Adam’s team. He’d given this a nine-point-five percent success rate. The stunt might actually work. Adam would come through basically unscathed. They’d get one kick-ass video.
None of that mattered. It still didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel real. And if Adam wasn’t so desperate to see Jezebel again, he wouldn’t even be here.
Somehow, that woman had gotten under his skin. Every moment seemed filled with her. If he closed his eyes for any length of time, he saw her. He hadn’t been this fixated on a member of the opposite sex since puberty, but even that comparison was inaccurate. Look at what was happening right now, when he had to be on-point? He needed concentration here, and what happened? His mind wandered onto thoughts of Jezebel. It wasn’t just her beauty. Or her amazing figure. Nor, her quick-witted remarks. This went deeper. Something happened at a cellular level. He didn’t just want her. He needed to be with her.
An angel.
Adam shook his head.
This was insane.
A train whistle carved a path through the night, closing quickly. Sounded like the freight train was right on schedule. One thing you could say about railroad companies - they kept to their time-tables. Then again, they didn’t have to compete with traffic. It was just before four a.m. and vehicle lights were already turning Highway 24 into a snake of white and red in the distance as people headed toward the Bay Area. Adam had observed it when he’d taken the bike out here. Turned it around with an extremely slow, wide arc. Then he just sat and waited. He didn’t look at the highway again. Some weird emotion was pumping through his veins, sending quivers along both arms, while his hands trembled on the handlebars. All bad signs.
Then again, the tremor might not mean he was out-of-sync. It could just be a sign from the bike of imminent failure – exactly as they’d planned.
Adam. Focus.
Adam revved the engine to let the team know he was ready. Listened intently for Chuck’s voice. Forced his thoughts to his supremely attentive state. He needed to run everything through his brain as it happened, take everything step-by-step. The rush would come later. After he finished. Weirdly, Chuck was taking a long time to speak up. Adam eased off the throttle. The bike engine idled as his mind went over the set-up again.
The semi-trailer was parked almost perpendicular to the train tracks, the ramp had been extended. They’d raised the incline for maximum lift. Chuck sat in a seat bolted atop the truck cab, working his reel-to-reel camera like this was an actual movie set in
the 1960s. They were all using old-time camera equipment. 35mm. Every man had been trained. Knew he had a finite amount of shots available. Nobody wanted to waste them. Somebody had taken Chuck’s photo for the video they’d be cutting and pasting together to upload later today. With luck they’d have it up in time. But everyone hoped for more than a stunt. A lot more. They wanted photographic proof of a real guardian angel.
If this worked.
And if she came.
The team had brought two High Intensity Discharge Lights. The poles had been extended to maximum height. One HID was beside the semi- truck, spotlighting the train cars as they passed, easily highlighting the planned jump zone. The other light was across the tracks, putting a pool of white onto a lot of darkness over there. That’s where Clint and Gareth were stationed, with fingers supposedly locked and ready on the shutter buttons of their cameras. The HID lights had been set out as strategically as possible. There were still black areas. Places where anything could happen. It couldn’t be helped. This was a night jump with hardly any pre-planning.
Chuck needed to send the signal already!
They were as ready as they’d ever be. All Adam had to do was get a decent speed going before he hit the ramp. Launch off the end of it. Go airborne. Get filmed by an old reel-to-reel film camera as he shot over some railroad cars. That part would be super cool. The film would probably be grainy. Look surreal. It wasn’t even difficult. He’d jumped this exact train at this spot before.
Then again, it wasn’t the jumping portion that had been tampered with.
The landing was going to be the problem.
The axle nut holding his front wheel between the forks was set to fail. The front wheel was barely holding in place now. Adam could feel it wobble whenever he leaned on the handlebar. The wheel should stay attached through the jump, although nobody trusted it. But if Jezebel didn’t show, Adam would have to land on the back wheel, ride the wheelie out as long as possible, and then bail. He’d be guaranteed some bruising. Probably a broken bone or two. But according to Clint, he had a chance of actually making it. And if that happened, the video should be almost as cool.
Front wheel.
That was it.
Nothing else on the bike had been tampered with. He knew. It had taken three hours to get out here. Adam hadn’t wasted the time. The rest of the team had either kept Ken company up front while he drove, or they’d slept in the sleeper. Adam stayed in the back with his bike. He didn’t care if they thought he’d gone nuts. He’d examined every inch of the bike with a magnifying glass and flashlight. Twice. If Jezebel was right and someone really was trying to kill him, what better time than now? When he’d actually set it up?
This was worse than insane.
“Adam, you ready?”
Chuck’s voice came clearly through the ear piece. Adam flashed the high beams in reply. Revved the engine.
“Then...go!”
The bike fishtailed before it gripped. Adam roared down the dirt road. The front wheel jittered, but held. Dust was kicking up behind him. He could sense it. He reached fifty mph. Sixty. Adam gunned the motor. Hit the ramp dead center. The ramp had grooves in it to prevent slippage. The front wheel grabbed at a depression, taking him slightly left. Adam went with it. No need for unnecessary torque. Not with a barely-attached wheel. The end loomed. Adam jerked the bike up. Roared past the blur that was Chuck and his big unwieldy camera set-up. The bike lifted, and that’s when time went to a weird slow-motion.
Oh.
Shit.
He was going to die.
He wasn’t high enough! Jezebel had been right. Whoever was trying to kill him hadn’t needed to do a damn thing to the bike. All they’d had to do was lower the incline of the ramp!
Wow.
Imminent death wasn’t remotely like he’d suspected. His headlights reflected off the railroad car. It was painted black. That was appropriate. Then again...
Adam grinned.
This is what he lived for.
And he wasn’t dead yet.
Adam’s mind shifted to acute awareness. Auto-pilot. He opened his legs. Let go of the seat. Streamlined with the bike. Got ready to ditch it. He scanned the rail cars. Selecting an impact area. He needed a curved surface.
Ah.
Yes!
His body neared a train car. The top of it was rounded. He’d hit with his shoulder. Should receive a glancing blow as he sailed over the train. The other side was a dirt hill, the dirt loosely packed. He could hit and roll on impact. It occurred to him that nine-point-five percent success rate was pretty achievable.
Still.
Adam turned sideways. Let go of the bike. Heard it slam into metal. Got a glimpse of flames shooting upward from the explosion...and then something slammed into his left side. It was incredibly strong. Impossibly comforting. Unbelievably wondrous. Wow. If this was death, it was pretty damned nice.
Adam jerked his eyes open.
What in the hell?
He’d closed his eyes?
And he was now standing?
His legs shook but didn’t drop him, although he stumbled a half-step backward before hitting something. It was hard. Unmovable. A glance showed an ash-colored end table. It was the corner piece between two gray-toned couches. More end tables framed the furniture. There was a black old-school phone with a large receiver and rotary dial on one table. Everything was so dimly lit, it was impossible to make out color, but he’d never seen anything so bland. Dull. He blinked rapidly. The space got a bit more distinct. He could definitely make out a span of wall. Ceiling. Carpet-covered floor. A doorframe.
The room gave him a weird feeling. Like he stood in a void. He was just coming to grips with that sensation when Jezebel moved. Adam jerked his gaze back to her. His heart flared up. A rush of joy hit him square between the eyes. It really was her! She’d come! She was standing right before him! Her eyes were obscured by a pair of dark glasses. Despite that, she looked really pissed.
“You came!”
He didn’t hide the jubilation. He didn’t even try.
CHAPTER NINE
Adam jerked the helmet off his head and flung it somewhere. It didn’t make any kind of sound as the space sucked it up. Jezebel finally spoke. He’d been a little off. She didn’t sound angry, but she was definitely annoyed.
“How could you do something so stupid?”
“I had to see you again,” he replied.
“I told you somebody was trying to kill—.” She stopped as her mouth dropped open slightly. And then she added words. “What...did you just say?”
“I said I had to see you again.”
Adam pulled his goggles off. Secured them in an inside pocket of the jacket.
“You mustn’t say that.”
He couldn’t stop a grin. “Why not?”
“There are rules.”
“Really?”
Her tone sharpened. “No engaging.”
He considered her for a moment. Shrugged. “Well...I do live on the edge, honey. You know that.”
“Adam.”
He took a tentative step toward her. “Tell me about this engaging stuff. Do the rules go into what that means? Like...is there a penalty level for certain acts?”
She must have calmed her anger – if that’s what it had been. She didn’t move. Didn’t exhibit much of a reaction at all, which was odd. As if she hadn’t noted he was closer, or that he’d called her the endearment, honey. She just looked up at him. Her mouth had closed, but she hadn’t moved beyond that, so she could sound stern but she sure didn’t look it. And man! She had a great set of lips.
That was a random thought, but exactly in-line with his mental and physical processes at the moment. He really needed to see her eyes, though. See if any of the desire that filled his every cell was reciprocated. Or even welcomed. His grin wavered.
“I don’t know,” she finally answered.
He nodded. “Okay.”
He worked his gloves off. They were leather, m
olded over time to the exact shape and size of his hands. They could be difficult to remove. This was one of those times. It took long moments to pull at the fingertips. He listened to his pulse rate ratchet a little faster until it sounded like a high-pitched hum. Felt every muscle tighten. He didn’t watch what he was doing, however. He watched her.
Correction, Adam.
He was watching his reflection in her sunglasses. He had the strangest impression that she was having trouble catching breath. Any hint of hilarity died. All kinds of vibes took its place. They carried an infusion of high-level stimuli. It was useless to stop anything. He didn’t even try. This was why he’d baited her.
This exact reaction.
Right here.
Ever since he’d met her, it had been there. Silent. Steadily increasing. At the most basic level, his body was in charge. He desired her. Craved contact with her. It was beyond a physical need. And he knew it.
Adam shoved the gloves into his back pockets by feel. The rush from his bike stunt might be arriving. His near-death heightened the strength of it. Everything on his body started reacting, but it wasn’t adrenaline. That hormone didn’t hold a candle to the sensations lifting goose bumps along his skin. Filling his muscles with tenseness. Making it difficult to move. Breathe. Think.
“So. Jez. Can I get you to do something?”
“Jez?” she replied.
“Yeah. Jez. You, uh...want to take the glasses off?”
“I can’t.”
“Can I do it then?” Adam took another step toward her. It ate up half the distance between them.
“It’s...too bright.”
Too bright? He’d had nightlights brighter than this as a kid. Adam pulled in a bit of air. Held it for a moment. “Please?” he asked.
She had the slightest tremor as she lifted a hand. His heart leapt as he saw it. She had elegant-looking fingers, perfectly manicured short nails. No polish that he could tell. It figured she’d be his definition of perfect there, too. Her fingers pinched the glasses’ frame at her temple. She pulled them off with a hesitant gesture while he held his breath. And then he just gazed at her. He lost all sense of time. Space. Physics. He was surprised he didn’t fall.