Knowing Mr. Perfect had a flaw brightened Micah’s mood considerably. “I take it Bearers don’t go through the same rigorous training you do?”
Jacquelyn’s answer stung with bitterness. “Nah. It’s the Waerd’s responsibility to make sure her Bearer is up to snuff in the field. The Sentry keeps their distance from Bearers. I told you, you’re a precious commodity. They don’t want to scare you off.”
The more Jacquelyn talked about this mysterious Sentry, the more wary of them Micah became. Any organization who stole babies from their cribs couldn’t be trusted, and the fact that they gave Bearers a wide berth and tons of respect threw up another red flag. Keep the killers on a tight leash and let the empaths roam free. Why?
“Finn’s lived here a while, hasn’t he?”
“His whole life. Trish, too. She’s priming him.”
Micah sighted the gun, held his breath, and gently squeezed the trigger the way Jacquelyn had shown him. He didn’t flinch this time and checked through binoculars at the accuracy of his shot. Closer to the bull’s-eye, giving a boost to his ego. “Priming him for what?”
“To take over. Waerd’s aren’t in charge of shit. We just do what we’re told. It’s up to a Bearer to govern a territory. They’ve got all the power, make all the decisions. Trish is getting too old to chase after us. She wants Finn to take her place.”
Again, this Sentry wasn’t scoring any points. They treated Waerds like stray dogs and that pissed him off. “How does Finn feel about that?”
“He’s on a total power trip. Can’t wait, though he’d never step on Trish’s toes. She might be old, but no one fucks with Trish.”
Micah practiced ejecting the clip like she’d shown him. Three shots remained, and he slid the clip home, aimed, took another deep breath into his lungs and held it. Squeezing the trigger came natural, a fluid movement and after the loud report of the shot, he checked his accuracy. He’d grazed the black circle. “Hell, yeah!”
“Not bad,” Jacquelyn agreed before leveling her own weapon on a fresh target. “Bet you can’t beat this, though.” In succession, the shots rang out and Micah watched through the binoculars, as a neat pattern of dotted holes bordered the little black circle. He pulled the squishy foam earplugs from his ears. “I doubt I could beat it now, but give me a week or two. I’ll give you a run for your money.”
“You’re a quick study,” Jacquelyn said. “That’s good. Gives me less to worry about out in the field.”
“You’re still concerned, aren’t you? That I’ll hold you back out there. Keep you from effectively doing your job.”
Jacquelyn sighted the Beretta and emptied the clip, fifteen angry shots that rang out like thunder raining down from Olympus. Her hand dropped as if the hunk of metal suddenly weighed too much for her to manage and she turned, her green eyes serious.
“Micah, what are you doing here? You’re a nice guy and you can’t tell me hanging around town following behind while I blow the heads off a half-dozen scary beasties is appealing. You should leave before this place gets its claws in you.”
“Too late.” Micah aimed and squeezed off the last two shots in the clip. He checked through the binoculars, smiling. Both bull’s-eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He checked his reflection once again. The mirror didn’t lie, so why hadn’t she come to him yet? With every day his invisible companions gave him strength, improved his looks, his confidence. Power unlike anything he’d ever felt flowed through his veins. He was drunk on it. Why was it taking her so long to come around? His new companions loved him. They whispered sweet loving words to him every day. Why didn’t she?
The vase catapulted from his hand before he realized what he was doing. It smashed into the wall scattering water, flowers, and decorative marbles around the small space of his bedroom. He planned on giving her the vase, but she didn’t want him or his gifts. Not yet.
“I want more.” Their cool breaths mingled to caress the back of his neck and he shuddered. “It isn’t enough. I’ve chosen another, and you haven’t done anything about it. Why not?”
Silence answered and he stalked across the room to take a second glance in the mirror. He’d never been vain, but lately he felt compelled to stare at his refection. For hours sometimes, his eyes locked on a face that resembled his but was somehow alien. Something more than it had been. Striking, beautiful, almost…mesmerizing. He laughed, reaching out to caress the glass, his fingers tracing the lines of his face. “I’m not going to be anyone’s discarded leftovers. Not now, not ever,” he murmured. “Isn’t that right?” Silence hung heavy in the air and his anger mounted, boiling hot inside his chest. “Isn’t that right?” he bellowed to the empty room. “I know you’re here! I can feel you! Talk to me! Promise me!” His throat ached, rasping from his voice that had become tight with screaming commands. He doubled over, head gripped between his palms, teeth gritted tight against the searing pain that branded his skull. Damn them. They promised him and if they went back on their word, he’d make sure they paid for their treachery. Even if he had to kill them himself.
The illusion of cool hands petting his brow set him at ease and he straightened, their touch finally offering the comfort he needed. It was stupid to think they’d left him. They would never leave him. They belonged to him, loved him…
“It’s almost time,” voices crooned in his ear. “You have chosen and vengeance will be served.”
“And then?” A familiar haze clouded his mind. He’d felt it once before, pulling him under like a rip-tide. “Will she want me? She has to see it’s all about her. I love her.”
“Soon.” Soft voices spoke close to his ear, their chilly breath sending a ripple over his flesh. “Soon.” The room spun in and out of focus and he stumbled as he fought to gain his bearings. He laughed in spite of his confusion. “Come with us,” they urged, their invisible arms steadying him as he walked. Was he still in his house? He didn’t recognize his surroundings, but he knew they’d take care of him. They always did. “Where are we going?” he asked, the words slurring in his mouth.
A chorus of cackles answered. “It’s time to feed.”
Trish had been quiet most of the evening, and Jacquelyn didn’t try to force a conversation. She’d brought the truck back fueled, and though Trish hadn’t said anything about it, it must’ve rubbed her the wrong way to have her vehicle stolen. Micah, on the other hand, had talked enough for both of them and recounted the day’s training like a kid after a day at the county fair. Maybe the job held something more enchanting for Bearers because they weren’t forced to take the post. Jacquelyn never felt the urge to talk about hunting. It just didn’t occur to her that she could think of her position as anything more than the equivalent of inmates picking up trash on the side of the highway. Though the trash she removed from the landscape tended to fight back.
She pushed the plate of chicken-fried steak, broiled potatoes and asparagus toward the center of the table, barely touched. Trish’s house had become suffocating, suddenly lacking enough oxygen to fill her aching lungs. Two too many Bearers and way too much of their energy in close proximity. She wanted—needed—to be free of their soft, comforting, magical presence for a while.
“Sorry to eat and run, but I’m operating on no sleep here.” It wasn’t a lie, she was ass-tired. “Trish, can you take me home?”
“I can do it,” Micah offered, looking to Trish. “Can I borrow your truck?”
“Of course.” Trish came across just a little too cheery. “At least I know I’ll get it back if you take it.”
Jacquelyn plopped back down into her chair, dejected. What she’d really wanted was time away from Micah. But it looked like she’d bought herself a good twenty minutes of quality alone time, instead. “You’re not done eating,” she grumbled. “Go ahead and finish, I can wait.”
Micah chugged down a tall glass of milk and popped a potato in his mouth. “Nope, I’m done. Let’s go.”
“So, what are Furies, anyway?” Micah a
sked as he negotiated the sharp turns of Goose Creek Canyon. “Are they related to the Norse myths?”
“One in the same.” Jacquelyn leaned in toward her door as close as she could get without melding to the vinyl. “Three lying bitches that promise vengeance to the human willing to unleash them.”
“You’d think they’d be doing good, rather than evil,” Micah mused. “I mean, some acts need to be avenged, don’t you think?”
“Vengeance is not justice, Micah, and Furies don’t know a damned thing about what is just. They feed off of jealousy, their victim’s feelings of being wronged, and that basic need to make someone pay.” Jacquelyn tried to take a deep breath as her chest hummed with the energy of Micah’s nearness. “We’ve got to get rid of them before all hell breaks loose.”
“Can they be killed?”
“They can be banished. That’s the best I can do. Furies are too close to the old gods to be killed. But I can sure as hell make sure they don’t come back into my territory for a good, long while.”
“How can I help?” Micah turned, his deep brown eyes focused and serious. Obviously still riding the high from his training session. “Tell me what to do.”
“Don’t you just want to leave?” Jacquelyn looked away, finding it easier to talk to the window than face Micah. “I mean, you were blowing through town. There’s no reason for you to stay here and no Sentry laws other than common courtesy to dictate that a Bearer has to help. You can ignore this, you’re free to forget it and move on. Tell Trish to fuck off, jump in your motor home and hit the highway. And if I were you, I wouldn’t look back.”
Micah seemed to stew on what she said, his eyes focused on the road, hands gripping the steering wheel. “I don’t have anywhere to be,” he said quietly. “I sold my house, left my job, cashed in what little retirement I had. All I’ve got is that RV. My own mother doesn’t know exactly where I am.”
“Why?” Jacquelyn couldn’t understand why Micah would turn his back on his life. His family. She’d give her right arm to have a mother who cared about her. Hell, she’d give more than that just to know who her mother was.
“Trying to prove my mom wrong, I guess.” His gaze stayed focused on the road, his voice even. “She always pushed me toward this gift, trying to make me embrace something that I didn’t understand and scared the shit out of me. I wanted to put dreams and visions and feelings I couldn’t identify as far behind me as I could.”
Jacquelyn placed her hand on his shoulder, wanting to comfort him somehow. “Is that what the pills are for?”
Micah pulled away from her as if he’d been burned, rubbing a hand over the bristle of hair on his head. He sighed. “They help me sleep. Keep me from freaking out. I left thinking I was going to wean myself off of them. It wasn’t working out very well until…”
“Until what?”
“Until I met you.”
Her head snapped up, and Micah turned his attention from the road to look at her. Jacquelyn held his gaze. “Don’t say that, Micah. By the time this is all over, you may wish you’d never stopped for gas. Things get harder from here on out, and I’m going to have to make some tough decisions, and do some things you might not approve of.”
His eyes crinkled slightly at the corners and his mouth twitched with amusement despite her serious warning. “You want to tell me what those things might be?”
She wasn’t getting through to him. He’d stepped right in the middle of an adventure, something to distract him from the problems in his life. It was all still a game to him, their actions nothing more than any boy’s super-hero fantasies come to life. But there were consequences for those actions, deeds that must be done despite the nagging voice of conscience. And Jacquelyn’s job required her conscience to remain silent at all times. She refused to coddle Micah, to string him along and use his gifts to her advantage. He at least had to be given a choice. “I told you that the Furies feed off of vengeance and death. And the only way to get it is by coercing a human host.”
“Right…”
“Well, in return, they offer the host his heart’s desire. Reward for every wrong ever committed against him. They give the host power.”
“Makes sense,” Micah replied. “How else would they coerce the person into letting them kill? Power is a seductive force.”
Thankfully Micah was a quick learner. It didn’t make her feel any better about laying herself bare, though. Would he hate her after this? Think her as much a monster as the things she hunted?
“It changes a person…this exchange between them. The host will never be completely human again. Whoever it is will lose him or herself entirely by the time those bitches are done. Micah—” she took a deep, steadying breath “—I have to kill the host. And your job is to help me find that person so I can do my job.”
The ensuing silence made Jacquelyn’s stomach turn, the acid churning like lava in a spewing volcano. He didn’t face her, didn’t speak. His attention once again focused squarely on the road, Micah’s expression came across as thoughtful more than condemning, but that didn’t put her at ease. Again Jacquelyn wished for a Bearer’s ability to read someone else’s feelings. She couldn’t bring herself to ask him how he felt about what she’d said, but at the same time, it was killing her not to know. Why should it matter so much what he thought of her? Because he hadn’t judged her for what happened to Ryan in the field? For overlooking the fact that she’d been negligent in her job and someone had died because of it? Or was it something else? His gentle smile and caring demeanor, his easy-going personality that was so much the opposite of Finn, the one person who knew her best… Perhaps Micah was the vacation from the suffocating reality of her life that she’d needed for so long. A breath of fresh air after months in a stagnant cell. And now he knew her dirty secret. She was a killer, through and through.
Jacquelyn silently indicated her driveway and Micah slowed, taking the turn and negotiating the truck down the narrow road barely wide enough to accommodate the wide wheel-base of the dual rear axle. He pulled to a stop in front of her house, not bothering to kill the engine. Jacquelyn sighed. He’d be gone by morning, and though it would kill her to know he was gone, it was the best decision. He just wasn’t cut out for violence, whether it ultimately saved innocent people or not. Death is death and Jacquelyn knew there was no absolution for the sins she’d committed.
Pulling the lever on the door, she pushed it wide, but before she could jump down from the too tall truck her wrist was seized in an iron grip.
“I’m not scared.” Micah’s eyes sparkled like lit coals in the dark. His tone was hard, full of conviction and fire. “Of anything, including you. I’m not running away, not this time. And there’s not a damn thing you can say that’s going to chase me off. You’re stuck with me.”
A reluctant smile tugged at Jacquelyn’s lips and her chest swelled with warm emotion. Micah’s eyes drooped a fraction of an inch, and she pulled up her emotional wall. He was still new at this, she knew he couldn’t help but feel what she’d so eagerly broadcast, but that didn’t mean he was getting an all-access pass, either.
“Okay,” she said, her voice suddenly thick. “Meet me at Grind tomorrow morning and we’ll get started.”
Micah’s hand slid from her wrist and he wound his fingers around hers, strong and warm. He squeezed gently and her pulse raced at the simple gesture. “I’ll be there.” His voice, deep and smoky, stirred something within her and she shuddered. “You don’t have to worry about that.”
She pulled free of his grasp, feeling like she was wrenching her heart free of what anchored it against the coming storm. “I hope you’re ready for this, Micah.”
He laughed, almost lighthearted, and the sound rippled over her like rings on a pond. “Bring it on! I’ll see you in the morning.”
Jacquelyn pushed at the heavy door of the Dodge pickup and slid down out of the seat to the ground below, racing for her house.
“Jacquelyn,” Micah called.
“Yes?” S
he held her front door wide enough to poke her head through.
“Goodnight,” he said softly.
“Goodnight, Micah,” she replied, and shut the door.
Chapter 17
JACQUELYN PULLED THE pillow over her head and hugged it tight to her ears. Her alarm hadn’t gone off yet, and her phone was already ringing. Uuuuuugh. Not the best way to start the morning and whoever called could expect to get an earful later. The unanswered call was followed by another burst of the annoying ringtone, and she threw her pillow across the room, watching from one squinted eye as it ricocheted off the closet door. Not as satisfying as if it had been her phone, but she couldn’t exactly afford to replace it.
She scooped the annoying hunk of electronics from her bedside table and brought the phone to her ear. “Hello?”
“Jax?” Cassy Canaday’s uncertain voice spoke through the receiver. The last time her boss called her personally had been the day she was hired. Had Bree finally managed to get her fired? Crap. Crap, crap, crap! Now she’d never be able to get her car fixed. And oh man, the thought of filing for unemployment made her empty stomach churn.
“Hey, Cassy.” Jacquelyn cleared her throat in an effort to sound more awake. “Am I late or something? I didn’t think I had to be in until eight this morning.”
“No, it’s not you. Bree didn’t show up to open and I can’t get her on the phone. Did she call you by any chance?”
Jacquelyn sat up in bed as a million thoughts swirled around inside her skull and her heart hammered against her ribcage. It would take the apocalypse to keep Bree from showing up to work, and even then, she’d probably be there to serve up mochas to the Four Horsemen. “She didn’t call me. I don’t know where she is.” A nagging feeling sucked the air from her lungs. Bree had been out with Finn the night before and Jacquelyn’s stomach lurched again at the realization. Maybe they were curled up naked on Finn’s queen-size bed. She stifled the urge to gag.
“Do you think you could go over to her place and see if she’s home? Maybe her car broke down on the road on something.”
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