by Mandy Rosko
"Sure. Wherever you want. Just so long as we can get your wounds looked at," Jamie said.
"They're flesh wounds. I won't bleed to death without a doctor," Ethan said.
The fact that Jamie didn't immediately reply was worrisome. Ethan hadn't known the man for very long. It was arguable that he didn't know him at all, but in the short time they'd been together, Jamie loved to talk. That he was silent now meant he was probably planning something.
Or was Ethan reading too deeply into this now that he knew Jamie was a paranormal? Jesus. He could control electricity. With what happened back in the city—knocking out the power of several city blocks like that—he could be dangerous if he really wanted to be, and yet here he was, being anything but.
Why the man had bothered to come back, Ethan couldn't figure out. Jamie was a fugitive, and it was probably in his best interest to just let Ethan die, but he hadn't. He was here now, and Ethan didn't want to shackle him and throw him into a box anymore. He wanted to give Jamie the chance to turn his life around. Just one more chance, that was it, and only because he owed him.
Yeah. That was a good enough reason. He owed Jamie, and there was nothing more to it than that. After this was over, they’d go their separate ways.
Chapter Three
Jessica looked at her phone for the tenth time that hour. She'd been staring at the damned thing, checking for messages ever since she and Jack went their separate ways.
There was no way Jack would leave Cindy behind. It would be safer if the man would just go off without her, but she knew him well enough to expect that her ex-boyfriend wouldn't leave the love of his life behind a second time.
Cindy was a paranormal. She controlled fire, and for the longest time she had been suspected of starting the fire that killed Jack's family.
Jessica didn't know if it was true or not, she hadn't even known Jack when it happened, but Jack was making his decision. He was going to believe her innocent, and he was going to stay with her.
For that, she was going to trust his instincts and hope she hadn't made a gargantuan mistake by leaving them alone together. The second Jessica learned that Jack had caught Cindy, she knew her ex was going to have trouble turning her in. Even when it had been Jessica dating him, he'd always been so...well, she didn't have the words for it, but he had talked about her a lot. He spoke about how he couldn't wait to get his hands on her again, capture her and give her to the collectors.
Those weren't exactly romantic things to be saying, but Jessica knew the signs of a man who was still struggling with feelings for an ex. She believed Jack did hate Cindy for what he was sure she had done, but it was the fact that he could never seem to stop talking about her, even when he was drunk, that tipped Jessica off that she and Jack weren’t going to work out.
The drunken talks were always the worst, mainly because Jack had been a depressing drunk, the type who was either reminiscing about his father and brothers, who had been burned alive, or talking about Cindy, and how wonderful she had been, back when he'd thought she was the one.
Yeah, they had broken up on good terms, but Jessica was still stung by the realization that she wasn't going to be so important to Jack.
That was all kinds of fucked up, she knew, especially considering what Jack had gone through, but she couldn't help herself. She knew the moment Jack caught Cindy, he'd never be able to hand her over, and now he was on the run with her.
And Jessica was alone—on the run now too—because she was the one dumb enough to go to Jack's place and put the collectors and pencil pushers on ice. She was supposed to be a hunter, not a paranormal; she wasn’t supposed to be someone who could freeze the water in the air and use it to attack other people. Now that the secret was out, she needed to go into hiding.
The thing she had been trying to avoid for her entire life was actually happening. She wondered what would happen when her parents got the call that the daughter they were so proud of was actually a dangerous villain. A freak who could hurt so many people with hardly more than a thought. There were a lot of religious and political organizations that wanted to see her put away for life for that.
Jessica hated that, but she hated the fact that she'd had to hide amongst the enemy even more. No one ever suspected her of being a paranormal because she was the one hunting them.
To be perfectly fair, she tried to go after only the ones with criminal records, which involved more than being born with powers. Theft, murder, rape… that sort of thing. She didn't get too many odd looks for bringing those sorts in when she worked either, because there were other hunters who did the same.
After all, the more dangerous a paranormal was labeled, the more money a hunter earned by catching them. Considering that a paranormal was usually only identified in the first place because they had used their powers to do something illegal and, well, most of the people Jessica chased down didn't deserve to be on the streets anyway.
Even though she was a hunter, she'd almost forgotten how well a hunter could track a person. She'd ditched her car a while ago, used only her fake IDs, and whenever she was forced to go someplace public, she made sure to keep her face angled slightly down, which would make it difficult for anyone to identify her. Hell, she'd even ditched her heels for a good pair of running shoes, because she knew she was going to be physically running for it at some point. She hadn't managed to get another car yet, and until she did, no more four inchers.
But even that wouldn't keep her off the radar forever. Ethan had to know she'd been exposed by now. Didn't he have his radio on him? It must be all over the channels. He would definitely get pulled in for questioning. They might think he had some strange powers, too, which he thankfully didn't, but that didn't mean she enjoyed the idea of her brother in solitary for several hours before being questioned for several more.
All that trouble, just because Jessica still loved Jack. She'd gone after Jack and Cindy just as the calls started coming in. She'd helped them escape Jack's house, and now Head Office knew she was a paranormal. They knew about her ice powers, and they were coming after her.
She needed her big brother. Right now. She knew he was on an assignment, chasing down some paranormal who'd taken out the power to several city blocks, but figured he would be done by now. He usually checked in on her with a text, and they had special messages to send each other for when something went wrong. They were only supposed to send those messages from pay-as-you-go burner phones; the sort of thing that came from Walmart and were only good for a couple of hours.
They were harder to track, but weren’t infallible. Even with the little chip she'd plugged into it. If he didn't answer soon, she was going to have to throw this phone away.
She sent her text.
Hey bro
She never called him that. He would know she was in trouble, and would know to prepare for being picked up. He would also know she was still all right, and to not go looking for her just yet, but he hadn't yet sent back the reply they'd agreed on.
“Yo sis”
Nothing had come in yet, and she didn't want to risk calling his phone. Texts were bad enough, even with the encrypted signals she used with her jammer.
She just had to wait. She had to wait and not rush into everything because if she tried to escape the city right now when every cop on the highway had her picture, then she was done.
"Where the hell are you?"
It was hard enough walking down the street, keeping her face pointed down at the phone as if she had somewhere to go, as if she wasn't carrying a couple thousand dollars cash in her pocket and was just having a normal work day like everyone else. Even if Ethan couldn't help her—and they both knew there was a chance that he couldn't—she at least wanted to know that he knew she was in trouble, that she probably wouldn't be coming back.
She was sweating just thinking about it. Was that a cop over there?
Keep your head down. Keep walking. He doesn't see you. He's writing a ticket to some other poor asshole. He might not
even have your picture yet.
If Jessica was brought in, nothing would save her. She would go to a lab, and not only would she get severe treatment from the lab rats and collectors, who would see her as a traitor to their cause, considering she herself was a licensed hunter, but there would be no sympathy even among the paranormals caged with her. She was a paranormal and she'd worked for the people who hunted them. She'd brought in several of them herself. If she got picked up, she wouldn't have to worry about getting studied for very long because someone was going to end up killing her.
"Excuse me, miss? Miss, can you stop for one second?"
Jessica made the mistake of turning, and this time the cop wearing the blue uniform wasn't alone. He was standing next to a couple of hunters in brown trench coats, like the detectives in old movies. They were all looking at a pretty large photo, and then up at her.
Her spine tingled and stiffened, and the cop must've seen and recognized that for what it was.
The officer yelled at her before she even started to move. "Stop!" he called, but it wasn't him who started to chase, it was the two hunters who had been beside him.
Jessica ran for her life.
****
Ethan, as it happened, turned out to be incredibly heavy. The man had to weigh at least two hundred pounds, and all of it was hard muscle.
Jamie had seen it all before, of course. He drank in the sight of all that powerful muscle, and even ran his tongue over quite a lot of it at one time as well, but seeing and touching was nothing compared to trying to physically carry the man. Jamie’s entire body burned. He was so going to feel this later.
Jesus, why couldn't Jamie's power be something that involved strength? Super strength would be awesome right about now. Vampires had that, and dragon shifters.
Not elementals like Jamie.
The funny thing was that Ethan wasn't even passed out. He was still awake, but just having trouble carrying himself. If the man lost consciousness, then there was no way in hell Jamie was going to be strong enough to keep going. Not while trying to move one hundred percent of the load.
Even with Ethan dragging his feet, one step in front of the other at such an insanely slow rate, he was nearly impossible to carry back to the truck.
Ethan was barely keeping himself up. Jamie was going to pass out pretty soon.
“Do you have to grunt like that with every step?” Ethan asked, grunting a little himself. “You’re not the one who’s injured.”
“Uh huh. Don’t think that just because you’re cute doesn’t mean I won’t fry you for back talk. Oh God, I didn't think we got this far away from the highway," Jamie said, trying to smile about it with sweat dripping from his face as he walked. “You’re killing me here, you really are.”
Ethan chuckled, but even that sounded forced. "You're a fast runner. I didn't know that about you."
"I love my cardio, but I still wasn't fast enough," Jamie said, and then he swore as he stepped on what appeared to be a small layer of leaves, but then turned out to be a puddle of mud that was wet enough to soak through his sneaker.
Great.
"We're almost there," Ethan said, and they kept on walking.
“I liked admiring your muscles before. With my eyes, hands, and whatever else,” Jamie said. Probably best to not mention tongue and lips in all of that. “It’s ruined for me now. I’ll never be able to look at you again without breaking into a sweat and shaking in pain.”
“It’s a good workout,” Ethan said, clenching his teeth and clutching at his chest. It must be bothering him.
Jamie supposed there were worse things in the world than having to listen to that disgusting squishing sound coming from his shoe. Like having his skin torn open by a paranormal with a taste for revenge. He needed to hurry up. Seeing Ethan touch his chest like that wasn’t making Jamie feel very good.
People like that girl were almost enough to make Jamie understand why the hunters and collectors existed. Christ, when he'd seen what they were doing to Ethan…he didn't want to think about it. He couldn’t think about that right now, not the sound of Ethan screaming, the pained look on his face, or the way the veins in his neck throbbed and tightened as he was being torn open. Especially not that sick bitch’s face, and how utterly…gleeful she had looked. That was the only word he had, and it wasn’t strong enough to describe what he wanted either. She’d fucking loved her little torture session.
The truck and Jamie's car were suddenly in sight. Jamie thanked God when he realized the trees around him weren’t so thick anymore, and the vehicles were right where they'd been abandoned on the side of the highway. It was a miracle they hadn't drawn more attention to themselves other than the three paranormals who'd come along.
"All right, we're almost there. Come on," Jamie said, very aware of how tightly Ethan was holding onto him as Jamie helped the man to his truck. The two of them limped faster now, carrying each other like a couple of drunks.
Jamie couldn’t get there fast enough. He opened the passenger side—it made sense that Ethan wouldn't have had the time to lock the doors after jumping out of his truck to chase after him—and he helped Ethan inside.
Ethan clenched his eyes shut. He breathed through clenched teeth and then panted like he was going into labor when he finally pulled himself up into the seat.
Why the hell did Ethan have to have such a big truck?
“Fuck me. Fuck me, that hurt,” Ethan said, and thankfully, color started to return to his face as he sat there and caught his breath.
"Wait right here," Jamie said.
Ethan glared at him, but he didn't say anything as Jamie rushed to his car.
Everything he owned was still inside of it, and while it wasn't much, he needed it.
His ID, cash, and first aid kit were the most important items on the list. His bag was still on the passenger side and easy enough to grab, so he took it, too, before rushing back to Ethan’s truck.
He'd had to abandon cars before in order to stay free, but he never liked doing it. Having a vehicle always made him feel like he had a better chance for escape if someone ever found out the truth about him. He was perfectly aware that was not how it worked, what with choppers and scanners absolutely everywhere and then there was the abundance of cameras all over the place, but the feeling of safety was still there.
Not to mention that Jamie's car didn't have a computer chip in it. None of his cars had. This model was so old fashioned it was practically a classic, but with just enough modifications to make it look like it had been made within the last decade or so. There wasn't a built in GPS, and the thing needed to be started with a key instead of a password and a button. No hunter or police officer could track it, or flip a switch and force him to stop if he ever had to run for it, which thankfully, had only happened once before Ethan.
But none of that mattered. Ethan was more important than his retro car. He was important enough for Jamie to consider getting caught.
Jamie paused just as he flipped the door shut, and he stood there like a complete idiot, staring at his reflection in the window.
Wait, what? Did that thought seriously just go through his head after Ethan tried to shackle him and put him into a box? It was so ludicrous, so fucked up and wrong on every level.
Jamie nodded at himself and moved toward the truck.
Right, he wasn't going to make too much of it. Of course a human life was more important than a car, but Jamie wasn’t going to turn himself in and he wasn’t going to get caught. Jamie was helping Ethan because he didn’t want an ambulance. It had nothing to do with the fact that they used to be together, so Jamie needed to get that thought out of his head.
"All right, I'm back," Jamie said, tossing his stuff in the back seat. Ethan had a nice truck.
Ethan was glaring at him. "Yes, thanks for taking the time to get your shit while I'm sitting here bleeding."
Jamie tried to not let it show how much that bothered him. "Whatever, you said you were fine."
&nbs
p; If Ethan was fine enough not to need a real doctor, then he was fine to wait two minutes while Jamie grabbed the last of his worldly possessions.
He still felt like a dick, though. Ethan was all pale again, and that thin sheen of sweat on his face wasn’t going away. Ethan looked more sick than injured.
Ethan just stared at him, and a whole lot of defensive anger bubbled up inside of Jamie's chest.
“You said you were all right.”
“I’m still in pain.”
“So am I! I used up the last of my energy fighting off those psychos for you!”
Ethan retorted with an angry snarl that sucked all the fight out of Jamie like a vacuum. “You didn’t get your skin pulled on until it ripped open, which only happened because you left me helpless under a net. Don’t compare your pain to mine.”
Jamie shut his mouth and turned away. He put his hands on the steering wheel and gripped it tight, needing something to clench until his hands hurt.
Why did his throat close at those words? It wasn’t Jamie’s fault and he knew that logically, but now his eyes burned and he could hardly breathe, all because Ethan was being a little mean to him.
“It wasn’t like that. I came back for you,” Jamie said. After hearing Ethan screaming, he couldn’t stay away. It had been physically impossible for him to turn his back on Ethan.
When he saw Ethan being tortured, Jamie didn't even realize how much raw energy was left inside of him until it burst free, and he'd used it to save Ethan. Not to save himself, like he should have, but to save Ethan.
Ethan wouldn't even be in this position if he hadn't tried hunting down Jamie and caging him like a dog.
Ethan sighed and let his head fall back against his seat. The move exposed his throat, long and pale, and still lovely to see. “I know. I’m not trying to pick on you, but I’ve been roughed up pretty bad and—“
“You don’t have to explain. I said I was going to get you some help and I meant it," Jamie said, courage filling him up. "Just shut up and try not to die. The last thing I want is to be accused of killing a hunter."