Dead Zone (Blue-Eyed Bomb Book 3)

by Amber Lynn Natusch

  I scooted closer to him, my leg brushing against his.

  “Then tell me. Tell me what I don’t know.”

  “Phira, I’ve been alive for centuries. I can’t possibly recount everything you don’t know.”

  “I know that. Just tell me something—anything. Like where you’re from…how you came to work for my father…”

  “I’m from what is now referred to in general as the Middle East. I spent much of my time in various parts of that region before I met your father. Before he made me an offer I could not turn down.”

  TS put both feet on the floor, propping his elbows on his knees.

  I moved closer still. “What did he offer you?”

  “The same thing you’ve always craved: freedom.”

  It was my turn to look confused. “But you serve the PC. You’re at his beck and call. That’s hardly freedom, TS.”

  He gave me a sideward glance. “It is better than what I had without him.”

  “I don’t understand—”

  “I cannot go into the details of my arrangement with him, Phira. I’m sorry.”

  Though I wanted to press him, the slump of his shoulders told me to back off. I could tell that this wasn’t a story he wanted to share, even if he could. And since I was trying to convince myself I wasn’t selfish, I needed to let it go.

  “I have something to confess to you, but you have to promise not to get mad first.”

  He looked at me with curiosity. “I’m too intrigued not to promise. So what do you need to confess to me at this hour in my bedroom?”

  I swallowed hard. “I used to think you were gay—that you were interested in my brothers.”

  His eyes went wide before a smile overtook his expression.

  “You thought I’d be offended.” I nodded at his statement. “Phira, when you have lived as long as I have, it takes a lot more than mistaken sexual orientation to offend.” He visibly bit back his laughter. “Why on Earth would you tell me this now?”

  “You looked sad about what I’d asked, so I thought maybe it would be a distraction. Not necessarily a good one, but…”

  “I can assure you, I am far from attracted to your brothers.”

  I laughed. “They’ll be so disappointed to hear that.”

  “They’ll persevere.”

  Silence fell over us for longer than I was comfortable with, and I still couldn’t escape Gabe’s words, even though TS had dismissed them. Probably because TS didn’t know the whole truth.

  “I have to tell you something else too,” I said, drawing his attention again.

  “Do I need to promise not to be angry about this as well?” he asked, his tone playful. But when I didn’t respond, that playfulness disappeared. “What is it, Phira? You can tell me.”

  “Do you remember that one night, at the bar a block away from the old apartment, when you hauled me over your shoulder and carried me home?” He nodded, but he really didn’t need to. There was no way he’d forgotten that night. It was about the time following Little Church when I’d really started to fall apart. When I’d delved into deeper lows to quell the growing darkness within me. I cringed thinking about what he’d seen me do that night—what he’d pulled me away from. Two guys in an alley wasn’t really one of my finer moments, and he’d saved me from myself. “I don’t know if I was just so drunk that I passed out, or if you knocked me out with magic—”

  “The latter—”

  “—But I woke up late that night—or maybe early the next morning—and crept out of the apartment while you guys were sleeping. I went up to the roof to try to clear my mind.” He stared at me intently while I took a deep breath, preparing to tell him what I really didn’t want to admit. “I stood up there for a while—I don’t really know how long because I still felt pretty out of it—but I started to feel the darkness brewing beneath the surface. It made me tired. It was so exhausting warring with myself every moment of the day. I looked down at the town that had grown quiet, and I wondered if I jumped, if maybe I would be quiet too. If maybe in death I would find the peace I needed.”

  TS’ body went rigid. Even in the dim moonlight that spilled into the room through a crack in the curtains, I could see the strain in his muscles. Though he’d shut down his emotions from me, I knew he was mad. Why wouldn’t he be?

  “I thought about how much easier it would be for everyone—for you especially—if I just faded away. I was so awful back then, TS. Do you have any idea what it’s like to know you’re being terrible to people that care for you and to do it anyway? I know you think my behavior was a necessary coping mechanism, but I have to tell you, that didn’t make me feel any better about it. Still doesn’t.” I dropped my gaze to my lap, unable to look at him anymore, then continued. “Anyway, I’m sure somewhere deep down inside, I knew I wouldn’t die from the fall, but in the active part of my mind, I thought I would. I stood there on the ledge and leaned forward, ready to embrace my fate. But I never fell. Something stopped me.”

  “What?” he asked, his voice so low it was barely audible.

  “I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around expecting to see you there, but you weren’t. Nobody was. Later that day, I rationalized that some survival instinct had kicked in and I’d hallucinated the whole thing, but now I’m not so sure.”

  “You think it was a ghost.” I nodded. “You have a purpose, Phira. A great one, and my guess is that someone or something out there wanted to let you know that. That you weren’t alone.”

  I took a deep breath. “Maybe. But that’s not the point. The point is that I had intended to end my life, TS. Can you still say I’m not selfish now that you know that?”

  I allowed my gaze to drift up to meet his. Where I expected to find a neutral expression, I found compassion.

  “Is the hand on your shoulder the only thing that stopped you? If so, why didn’t you try again?”

  I stared at him for a moment before answering. “Because I thought about it later, after I’d gone inside and slept off whatever it was you’d done to me, and realized that maybe my death wouldn’t make it easier on everyone else—that maybe the only person it would make it easier for was me. My parents would be devastated. Nico and Alek too. And you—” I cut myself short.

  “What about me?”

  “I was worried that you would be punished. That my father would blame you for my death.”

  “So you put the rest of us before yourself.”

  “Yes.”

  Silence.

  “That is not selfish, Phira. That’s selfless. Whatever ghost haunts you tonight—whatever torments your thoughts—it’s not real. It’s not the truth,” he said. I forced a smile, which did little to satisfy him. “You need more convincing.”

  “I’m just trying to buy into what you’re saying.”

  “Have you ever known me to lie?”

  “No.”

  “Would I lie to you for your own good?”

  “I mean…maybe.”

  “No, I wouldn’t. And do you know why?”

  “No.”

  “Because it would only serve to discredit me in your eyes once you saw the truth. And that is something I’m unwilling to risk.”

  “Why? Everyone else lies to me ‘for my own good’,” I said, throwing up some air quotes to emphasize my point.

  He hesitated.

  “I am not everyone else,” he said, leaning forward slightly until a crack of moonlight shone across his face. “I respect you too much to lie to you. I see you as my equal. I always have.”

  “Oh…”

  Guilt crept in as a long silence drew out between us, making me fidgety. I knew I was being a hypocrite in so many ways, but it had become easy to rationalize my lies about Gabe and Damascus because they were the exceptions to the rule, not a constant behavior—or so I told myself. I wondered if that would make a difference when those lies came to light.

  I highly doubted it would.

  “Is there something else, Phira?” he asked, his tone
much softer and gentler than before. “Something else you wish to say?”

  I swallowed hard. “No. No, I think that’s all.” I got up to leave, but my legs felt like lead, holding me in place, fighting my attempt to depart his company.

  He apparently took notice. “Are you sure?”

  “Can we just—can we maybe just hang out for a bit? I’m wide awake now, and I don’t feel like lying in bed and counting the cracks in the ceiling. It gets really old after a while.”

  “Perhaps you can count mine instead,” he said, looking up.

  “With my luck it’ll work this time, and I’ll pass out in your bed. I’m a total bed hog, by the way,” I said, starting to ramble like my mother did when she was nervous. “I’ll take up this whole thing. And I’m a terrible blanket thief. I’ll cocoon up in that bad boy so tight, you won’t have a corner of it to your name.”

  He chuckled to himself as he stood, pulling the blankets out from where he’d been sitting and tossing them toward the head of the bed.

  “To make it easier for you.”

  I smiled at him before sitting back down on the bed. I eased myself onto my back, feet flat against the mattress with my knees bent to give him back his spot on the end of the bed. I stared up at the ceiling and began scouring it for cracks in the scant light of the room.

  “Tell me something else about yourself,” I said softly, unable—or perhaps unwilling—to meet his gaze.

  “Like what?”

  “Anything you can actually share with me.”

  He sighed, the mattress moving underneath me as he sat back down.

  “Do you know about the time I knocked your brother unconscious?”

  I shot up to look at him. “Which one?”

  He quirked a brow at me. “Which do you think?”

  Nico. Clearly.

  I lay back down and got comfortable, totally forgetting what the ceiling crack count was.

  “This is going to be soooooooo good,” I said, and he laughed.

  “You’ll be sorry you missed it.”

  I woke up a couple of hours later in TS’ bed.

  A jolt of adrenaline shot through me as I tried to remember what all I’d said and done, and I sat up in bed to find myself alone. TS was nowhere to be found. It was early enough that the sun was just beginning to poke its head up on the horizon, so it was too early for him to be up and at ‘em unless he’d been called away again.

  Opening his bedroom door carefully, I crept out into the hall. I started toward my room only to find an unwelcome sight hovering near my bedroom door. Muses looked a mixture of amused and confused, leaning against the wall waiting for me to speak.

  “Have you seen TS?”

  “I think the better question is, how much of TS have you seen?”

  “Fuck off, Muses. I was just looking for him.”

  “For hours? You must have searched every inch of his room a hundred times over.”

  Busted.

  “Whatever. Let me know if you see him.”

  I walked quickly to my room and opened the door, but Muses shot his arm out to block my way. Apparently he wasn’t going to drop it that easily.

  “Could it be that your heart isn’t as cold as I thought it was?” he asked in a way that sounded more like his internal musings escaping than an actual question. “Could it be that you’re once again courting disaster?”

  “Listen,” I said, leaning in closer to him, “my heart is a cement block where you’re concerned, and I will have Nyx nuke your ass if you don’t get the fuck out of my way. I’ll deal with the consequences later. And believe me, it’ll be so worth the fallout.”

  “Dealing with consequences later…that is your specialty, isn’t it?”

  He pushed off the doorframe and headed toward his room, disappearing inside.

  “What a douche,” I muttered under my breath as I walked into my room and closed the door behind me. It was then that I noticed my bed had been made—something I certainly never did. On top of the pillow was a folded piece of paper.

  I picked it up and opened it, smiling at what I saw.

  You really are a bed hog. I borrowed yours since you had no intention of letting me sleep in my own. I’ve been called away again. Will be in touch soon.

  TS

  Though it was hard, I stifled the urge to peel back the covers and inhale the scent of him. Then the sound of my phone vibrating on my nightstand pulled me from that mental wandering I wasn’t prepared to deal with yet. I picked it up to find a comprehensive email from Trey, including just about everything I ever wanted to know about Danny Bowers: his past, his present, and the business he now ran that might keep him from having a future. A business not too far from Jenkins’ bar. I read through the details regarding his office, then dialed the phone, needing to talk to Trey.

  “Hey Trey! It’s Phira. I need one more favor. I’m going to need the code for his security system…”

  I was about to pay Danny Bowers a little visit.

  Chapter Twelve

  I heard my cue—the jingle of keys in the lock—so I leaned back in Bowers’ office chair, propped my boots up on his desk, and rested my head against my interlaced hands. If he wanted a pissing contest, I was about to give him one. And I planned to win.

  The door flew open and a disheveled-looking Bowers stormed into the room, trying to rip his key from the lock, where it seemed to be stuck. I waited patiently for him to look up and see the welcoming committee. When he did, he wasn’t able to hide the immediate shock he felt. He also seemed unable to keep his weapon holstered.

  Gun trained on my chest, he walked toward me.

  “How the fuck did you—”

  “Get through your security system?” I shook my head as if he’d insulted me. “Please. Let’s not, okay?” My eyes drifted down to his firearm and back up to him. “You should put that away before someone gets hurt.”

  He cocked the gun by way of response. Apparently Bowers didn’t fuck around either.

  “How about you tell me why you’re here, and then I’ll decide if someone’s getting hurt or not.”

  I shrugged, then leaned forward to rest my elbows on his weathered desk.

  “Why are you looking for Ward?”

  “Why did you pretend you didn’t know him?”

  Silence.

  “Why do you have that picture of me?”

  “Why do you think I have it?”

  I propped my head on my fists. “Who hired you?”

  “What are you trying to hide?”

  A supernatural race of beings that would kill you if they thought you knew about them…

  “What are you trying to find?”

  “I’m trying to find Ward.”

  Irritated with our circular conversation, I took a deep breath and pushed the chair back so I could stand. With his gun still aimed at me, I stepped out from behind the desk and walked toward Bowers.

  “Tell me what you plan to do with whatever information I give you, and maybe I’ll tell you.”

  “No,” he said, his voice calm and controlled.

  “No?”

  “No deal. I don’t know if you have anything to tell me. You give me something first, then you have a deal.”

  I took a step closer, the barrel of his gun nearly touching my chest. “Ward was there the night you took that picture of me.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Where did he go?”

  “I don’t know.” Not really a lie since I had no clue what had happened to the body.

  He lowered his weapon and holstered it before walking past me, making sure his shoulder knocked me back a step.

  “Then you’re no good to me. Get out.”

  “Wrong. It’s your turn to share now, Bowers.”

  “That was hardly a tip.”

  “You wanted to know what I knew. That’s what I know.”

  He looked at me with eyes that seemed able to cut through bullshit from a mile away.

  “When you feel like leveling with me, you can
come back. Otherwise, you’re wasting my fucking time.”

  “Who wants to find Ward so badly that you’re willing to draw your weapon on an innocent girl sitting in your office?”

  “You mean the trespasser who broke in?” he countered. “Pretty sure the law’s on my side about that one.”

  An evil smile spread across my face. “That would be a nice change for you, wouldn’t it, Officer Bowers? Or should I say ‘ex-officer’…” His hand slid slowly back toward his firearm. Apparently he didn’t expect me to have done my homework. “The last time you went up against the law, you didn’t fare so well, did you? I know the Chicago PD did all it could to cover up the bulk of your crimes so that the media wouldn’t have a field day with the department, but I’ve seen the reports—the Internal Affairs ones.”

  He looked a little pale but kept his game face on nonetheless.

  “Those files were buried by the PD. How did you get them? Who the fuck are you?”

  “You can call me your dark angel—someone willing to bend the rules a bit for the greater good. Just like you.” I took a step toward him. “I don’t really care who is paying you or why you’re looking for Ward. I’m here to tell you that hunting him down is a death wish. You keep digging around, then you might as well dig your own grave while you’re at it. You’ll need one.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  I spread my arms wide, palms toward him, in an attempt to look less threatening.

  “Informing you. Nothing more.”

  “Is he dead?” Bowers asked in a last-ditch effort to gain something concrete from our meeting.

  “To you? He’d better be.”

  With that final verbal slap, I turned on my heel and walked out the door, slamming it behind me. I didn’t know whether I’d just warned Bowers off or painted a target on my back; only time would tell. But I had to do something to try and scare him away from whatever case he was working. His life really did depend on it. I feared that if he got too close, he’d learn something that couldn’t be forgotten. Something about the supernatural world.

  And that would be a death sentence for sure.