“This place just isn’t the same without you behind the counter. In fact…”
Jacquelyn turned the steamer knob to full blast, drowning out the sound of Pete’s voice.
“…tomorrow night.”
“Jax, where’s that mocha?” Bree interrupted as she turned from the counter and fixed a stern eye on Pete. “Pete, she’s busy! Can’t you see she’s making drinks? Quit acting like a love struck idiot and order something or get out. Shouldn’t you be at work? I mean, Willie just died. Christy isn’t going to get the lumber yard inventoried by herself.”
Jacquelyn cringed. Deep down, Pete was a nice guy. And even though she occasionally found his flirtations uncomfortable to the umpteenth level, no grown man deserved to be talked to like he was an errant twelve-year-old.
“It’s my day off,” Pete said through gritted teeth. He glowered at Bree before glancing behind him at the line of patrons waiting for their orders. “Besides, Finn has it under control. You know, you should at least try to be a little nicer to Jack-lyn.” Pete stepped away from the espresso machine, heading toward the door, an uncharacteristic swagger to his step. “No one comes in here to see you, Bree. You’re just a bitter, pathetic bitch.”
With unneeded force, Pete shoved the heavy glass door. It swung open and he rushed through before it slammed closed. Bree sighed, snatching the mocha from Jacquelyn’s waiting hand. “Sorry about that,” she apologized to the guy at the counter, handing the cup over to her customer. “Can I get you anything else this morning?”
Forget hunting evil demonic creatures, purgatory at Grind was worse than any punishment the Sentry could’ve dealt out. Jacquelyn couldn’t help but agree with Pete. Bree had been a total bitch, and embarrassing him in public struck her as hardly necessary. Sure, he was overly enthusiastic and tried way too hard, but a verbal spanking in front of a shop full of people? Harsh.
If she wanted, she could’ve shut Bree up once and for all. Her Glock had a way of zipping big mouths. But with Changelings, Goblins, a new Bearer, and Furies in town, dealing with Bree’s outbursts would have to be put on the back burner. When things slowed down and she killed the three supernatural bitches messing with the people in her territory, she’d talk to their boss about taking care of the day manager’s Godzilla-sized attitude.
“Hey!” Wes walked up to the counter, his gaze lingering at the scene of Pete’s dramatic exit. “Rough morning?”
“Yeah.” Jacquelyn poured soy milk into a plastic cup for Wes’s usual order. “People get pretty cranky without their caffeine, I guess.”
Wes laughed, his smile brightening. “Give any more thought to tagging along on the hiking trip?”
“No. I think you’ll just have to go it without me.” Why was he still pressing this? He had to know it would be awkward for her to tag along. “I doubt Finn will miss me much.”
“I doubt that, Jax.” Wes leaned in toward the counter. “Dude’s a train wreck. You really should cut him some slack.”
Jacquelyn quirked a brow, and grabbed a straw from the bin below the counter. “Yeah, well, you might want to tell your BFF to cut me a little slack, too,” she said, as she put the iced coffee into Wes’s waiting hand. Since when had he appointed himself matchmaker and healer of broken hearts? He might be in the “know” but that didn’t mean Wes knew everything about her and Finn’s relationship. Or their breakup. “Have fun on the hiking trip.”
Wes gave her a sad smile. “It’s not going to be the same if you guys can’t work this out. We’re supposed to be the Three Musketeers, remember? How else am I going to get the opportunity to stare danger in the eye?”
Three Musketeers? Stare danger in the eye? Jacquelyn wondered if the moon phase had everyone a little off their game. Wes’s lines were cheesier than usual. As if her relationship status with Finn had any bearing on things. She shook her head as she wiped down the counter. No way was Wes coming along on a hunt. Ever. Crazy-ass adrenaline junkie.
As the hour neared three, Jacquelyn sighed in almost-relief. Glad her shift was about over and at the same time, wishing she could work another eight hours. Trish’s truck sat parked on the street, reminding her she needed to take it back and face Micah. Not too awkward. “Hey, sorry I ran off last night, but being pinned between your thighs got me pretty hot and bothered. So I ran away.” Yeah, that’d work.
She untied her apron and slung it over her shoulder, leaving the storeroom just as the bell rang above the door. One last customer to end a glorious work day. But as she emerged from the back, she stopped dead in her tracks. This customer wasn’t there for coffee and apparently he wasn’t there to see her. Finn leaned over the counter toward Bree, his finger tracing a lazy pattern on the Formica countertop while he talked. He was getting his flirt on, brushing his sandy hair from his brow, commenting on Bree’s V-neck shirt. A corner of Jacquelyn’s mouth puckered upward. He’d used the same tricks on her. And, oh god, did the sight of him flirting with Bree make her want to gouge her own eyes out. Seeing him like that with another woman felt like a stab to the back. Broken up or not, she couldn’t deny her attraction to Finn. In fact, he seemed somehow better-looking than usual. His features sharper, his smile just a little brighter. The proverbial knife twisted just a bit.
“So, I’ll see you around seven?” Finn stared pointedly at Jacquelyn, dark clouds gathering in his brilliant blue eyes.
“I’ll be ready,” Bree said, her voice bordering on breathy.
Jacquelyn rolled her eyes. Good lord, he’d progressed to using jealousy to win her back. And Bree? Great tactic, butthole. Who better to take out on a date than the one person your former girlfriend can’t stand. She had to give it to him—his game was tight.
“Hey, Jax.” He flashed her a smile that could have rivaled Pete’s in its brilliance. “How’s your probie?”
She scoffed at the insult, suggesting that Micah was her probationary trainee. Meant to be playful, Finn had turned it into a slur.
“What’s that?” Bree laughed. If only she knew the airhead routine would get old, fast. Finn didn’t go for the Barbie type.
“It’s what the firemen call the new recruits,” he said, touching his finger to the tip of her nose.
“You’re dating a fireman, Jax? Who?” she asked and then turned to Finn. “Why do you care?”
“I don’t.” Bitter anger shaded his face and his tone turned ice-cold. If Bree knew any better, she’d have been wary. “I’ve got to run home and shower, I’ll see you later.” He trailed his hand across the countertop, letting his fingers graze hers before heading for the door. “Later, hunter,” he called over his shoulder.
“I wonder what he meant by that?” Bree watched his backside with appreciation before snapping back to work mode. “Did you clean those steamers better than you did on your last shift? They were clogged as fuck yesterday, and I don’t want the afternoon crew bitching. You’d better check.”
Charming. You gonna kiss Finn with that dirty mouth? Blech. Jacquelyn pulled Trish’s keys from her pocket and stalked toward the door. “Check yourself, Bree. I’m off. Have fun on your date.”
“Jealous much?” Bree sneered.
“You know what?” Jacquelyn yanked the door open and paused. “Pete’s right. You are a bitch.”
Micah lay in the guestroom bed, the afternoon sun piercing through a gap in the heavy curtains, letting in a sharp blade of light. He rolled the prescription bottle in his palm, listening to the pills rattle around inside. How many days had it been since he’d taken any? Two? Three? Though he’d gone to bed on a sour note, he knew Trish wasn’t angry. A benefit of finally allowing his emotional feelers to roam. He hadn’t seen the older woman yet, but he felt her presence, sensed her emotions. She’d been projecting them as well, letting him know it was okay to emerge from his cave.
Trish finished with his wounds around three o’clock in the morning and she’d gone straight to bed, exhausted from the effort it took to heal him and grumbling that a woman her age had no business
being up in the wee hours of the morning. Micah hadn’t been as eager to get to sleep. He needed time to unwind, process the events of the night, the things he’d seen. His mind hadn’t fully wrapped around the encounter with the Goblin or Trish’s healing touch until close to seven in the morning. And when he’d finally fallen to sleep, he’d fallen hard. A wonderful, dark, empty slumber that swallowed him whole. Rewarded for his hard work, his rest started off peaceful. The first real stretch of sleep he’d had in years.
Not surprisingly, the dreams began toward the last hour of sleep as the REM fought for supremacy in his mind. The vision tormented him, and he still felt the gnawing ache of it in his chest. A bright light reflected and bounced off the far wall, followed by the crunch of gravel under the roar of a throaty diesel engine. Micah’s stomach flipped once and he stuffed the dream to the back of his mind. It could wait until after he saw her.
Emerging from the guestroom, he ran a hand over the stubbly hair on his head. Getting a little long, he thought. I need to have it buzzed. He smoothed the rumpled clothes he hadn’t even bothered to change out of last night. Would she notice? He descended the stairs that branched off to the kitchen, knowing instinctively that she’d be there.
Jacquelyn sat at the table, sipping from a glass of iced tea. She stared straight ahead, her mind obviously miles away from Trish’s dining room. Mouth turned downward, a frown marred her forehead, and her clear green eyes were strangely vacant. Beautiful. He couldn’t put his finger on what exactly it was about her that took his breath away. Perhaps it was her hard exterior, the wild fierceness that masked so much emotion and tenderness. Jacquelyn was certainly nice to look at, but that wasn’t what attracted Micah to her. It was her soul that was beautiful. That’s what made his breath stall out in his chest as he stopped three steps from the kitchen to stare.
“It never felt this way with Finn.” Jacquelyn kept her eyes straight ahead. After a moment, she turned, fixing her gaze on him. “Why is that?”
“You’re asking me?” Micah snorted, taking the last three steps and approaching the table. “I don’t know the answers to anything.”
“No wonder he’s pissed,” she said more to herself than him. “Finn can feel it, too. It’s the only explanation. He knows. It was always easy for him to see through me, even when I shut down.”
Her dark mood put a damper on Micah’s fantasy of how the afternoon would go. She’d be a lot easier to read if he opened up and searched her feelings, but he’d promised he wouldn’t do that. No matter how tempting. “Are you okay?” The question sounded lame as it escaped his fool mouth. Too late to take it back, though. Of course, she wasn’t okay.
Jacquelyn focused on his face as if seeing him for the first time and her expression softened, her eyes more lucid. “I’m fine.” She graced him with a wan smile. “Sometimes I think out loud. Sorry.”
“No big deal,” Micah said, taking a seat across from her. “It helps to talk things out, even if it is a one-sided conversation.”
Jacquelyn’s smile brightened, and he relaxed in his chair. The afternoon might not be a total loss. He just needed to distract her from whatever emotional conflict raged inside of her. What better way to divert her attention than work. “Did you get any sleep after you left? Last night was wild.”
“Tame, actually.” She swirled the ice around her glass. “Goblins aren’t too hard to deal with. I haven’t been to bed yet.” She shrugged. “It happens.”
“How often do you deal with creatures like that?” Micah wondered. Might be nice to know the average. “I mean, is this an every night thing, or once or twice a year?”
“It depends. There are lots of factors. McCall sits near a ley line which amps up the frequency of supernatural activity in the area.”
“Ley line?” Micah asked. What in the hell was that?
“A ley line is like a highway of magical energy. It allows for supernatural creatures to commute from whatever plane they live on into the human world. They can travel from state to state in a matter of minutes rather than miles, and magical energy is super strong near ley lines as well, which naturally draws humans and non-humans alike. You’d be surprised how many early settlements were built on ley lines. Of course, the pioneers had no clue they were setting up camp near a magical freeway. It just felt right to stop and put down roots.”
“Wow.” The last thing he expected this morning was an impromptu history lesson. He doubted he’d find that info in any American History textbook. “Sounds complicated.”
“Not really.” Jacquelyn shrugged. “Magic is as complicated as you choose to make it. Moon phases, solstices, seasons all contribute to supernatural activity, too. We’re in the middle of a double whammy right now, so it’s hella-busy.”
“Double whammy how?” Good to know the high level of action was abnormal.
“This month is the Hunter’s Moon. The biggest, brightest full moon of the year. Brings lots of mojo with it if you know what I mean. Plus, the Furies aren’t helping the problem. Because of the amount of violence and negative energy they bring, it draws an eager following of supernatural baddies. They all want the same thing.”
Micah leaned forward in his seat. “Such as?”
“Chaos,” Jacquelyn answered, plain and simple. “Nothing but roving madness.”
“I guess we’d better put a stop to it then, before it gets even more out of hand.” Never in his life had Micah felt like fighting for a cause. Every day had been a struggle against the torment of his dreams, the inexplicable emotions that swirled within him, feelings he knew weren’t his. And here he sat, throwing down, going to war against his nightmares. Ready to make a sacrifice if it helped one innocent person. If it helped her.
“Tell me more about these ley lines.” Micah was fascinated by the fact that magical energy ran all around him and he’d never known it. “If I stepped on one, would I feel it? You know, like an electrical shock or something?”
A corner of Jacquelyn’s mouth quirked in a half-smile. “Maybe, but only because as a Bearer, you’re inherently sensitive to magic. A normal person probably wouldn’t feel anything but maybe a slight draw of curiosity. Maybe even a little euphoria. A ley line is a power current, though. Energy that runs like a web from power point to power point across the globe. There’s a ley line not far from here that intersects with the forty-fifth parallel. Supernatural creatures are ultra-sensitive to the energy and flock to it. That’s why a town as small as McCall can have such a huge supernatural problem.”
Well, that was something new. Micah didn’t know why he should be surprised, though. Hadn’t he been on the receiving end of an almost-ass-kicking from a Goblin the night before? Were magic highways of energy any harder to swallow?
Jacquelyn’s expression turned dubious, as if remembering the night before as well and wondering whether or not she could trust him in the field. “I need a Bearer if we’re going to find out who’s under the Furies’ spell. Trish doesn’t function in that capacity anymore, and I can’t work with Finn right now, but I can’t lose my focus worrying about you, either. Can you guarantee me you’ll be one-hundred percent?”
“Five by five.” Micah gave a crisp salute.
Her easy laughter warmed his heart. “Funny. You have a secret past as a Navy Seal you’re not telling me about?”
“Did it look that way last night?”
She laughed a little harder, and he thought his chest would burst from the fill of emotion. “You’re gonna need a crash course to roll with me.”
“What do you have in mind, gang-banger one-oh-one?”
Jacquelyn stood, looking far too invigorated for claiming no sleep. She tossed her ice in the sink and set the glass on the counter. “We’ll work on your lingo later. Let’s start with something light. Target practice.”
“You weren’t impressed with my gun-slinging last night?” he joked as he followed her out the back door.
“Wyatt Earp, you’re not,” she said. “But maybe by the end of the day your h
and won’t shake when you aim.”
“That impressive, huh?”
Jacquelyn opened the door to a small outbuilding at the rear of Trish’s house. It looked like a common garden shed, but when Micah peered inside his laughter spluttered out against his will. The shed contained a full arsenal, worthy of any cult compound. “Does ATF have their eye on Trish?” he asked. “Holy shit, that’s a lot of guns.”
“Please,” she scoffed, selecting two guns and ammo from the pegboard racks. “That’s nothing. You should see her root cellar.”
The sarcastic smile faded from Micah’s face. He’d been sleeping above an armory. “You’re shitting me.”
“Can’t fight evil without packing a little heat.” Jacquelyn loaded the clips with shells and drove each one into the butt of a gun. “Ready?”
“Bearer Boot Camp?”
“Yeah.” She handed him a gun similar to the one she kept holstered under her arm. “And I’m a bad-ass drill sergeant.”
He held the gun at his side, not sure what he should do with it, but damn sure he didn’t want to shoot himself in the foot. “Bring it on.”
Chapter 16
BY THE THIRD full clip, Micah felt like he knew what he was doing. He hadn’t hit the bull’s-eye, but the shot pattern kept pretty tight to the center. Jacquelyn, on the other hand, obliterated the solid black center of the paper target, every shot dead-on. This was not a girl you wanted to mess with. And how sexy was that?
“You’re a pretty good shot, you know.” She sighted the Glock on the target thirty yards ahead. “Finn had horrible aim when I met him. Took me six months to whip him into shape.”
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