Psychic Storm: Ten Dangerously Sexy Tales of Psychic Witches, Vampires, Mediums, Empaths and Seers

by Deanna Chase

  “Marley, are you in some sort of trouble?” April asked. “Is some guy from the club stalking you or something?”

  “Yeah, something like that,” I lied. It wouldn’t do any good to let her imagination think of worse scenarios.

  “Did you call the cops?”

  I opened my mouth to answer but was interrupted by JC rushing through the door, wearing a business suit and carrying a big black gun. April squeaked her surprise and ducked behind me.

  “Don’t worry, April. This is um... Detective Moreno. I called him about the break in.”

  JC’s eyes scanned the room, cataloguing every detail. Then he methodically searched the few meager hiding spots to make sure no bad guys were lying in wait to kill me.

  “I already checked. Whoever did this is long gone.”

  He holstered his weapon. “You shouldn’t be in here, Marley! What if someone was waiting for you in here?”

  “But they’re not, so chill out.”

  April stepped out from behind me, holding her hand out to JC. “Hi, I’m April. From downstairs. Do you need to take my statement? Cuz if so, it’ll have to be quick. I need leave for work soon.”

  JC shook her hand and shot me a questioning look. I shrugged. To April he asked, “So did you see anything, ma’am?”

  “I didn’t see anything, but at about three in the morning I heard music come on up here, real loud. I just figured Marley brought home a man from the club. You know, like she was using the music to cover up her sex noises?”

  “Does Ms. Sexton bring a lot of men home from the club?”

  He asked the question of April, but looked at me with an amused expression. Screw him. I could bring home men anytime I wanted.

  April answered his question, probably thinking her information was vital to the investigation. “Oh, sometimes. I mean, it’s been at least a few months now. Marley’s in a bit of a dry spell—”

  “Thanks, April,” I interrupted. “You should probably be getting on to work now. Wouldn’t want you to be late.”

  “Oh, okay. Detective, if you need anything, my place is just the next floor down.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  When April was gone, JC turned to me, the seriousness of the situation echoing in his voice. “Don’t say anything else. I need to check the room.”

  He whipped out a device from his inner coat pocket and strode around sweeping it over my broken furniture. Even with all the talk about surveillance devices last night, the thought one could be planted on me hadn’t even occurred to me. A swell of dread filled me as I thought about all the things I had to learn if I was going to have half a chance of getting out of this mess unscathed.

  “Clear. You can’t stay here, Marley,” JC said, returning the device to his pocket. “Once you’re on El Caos’s radar, you’re not likely to get off of it. And you sure as shit better hope they never find out about your nudging.”

  I grimaced at the thought. “Yeah, I don’t really advertise that information. The only people who know are you and my mama, and she ain’t talking.”

  “Well, you can stay with me for a while. It’s probably the safest place for you right now. Go on and pack a bag. I’ll get someone over here to board up your door.”

  He strode off toward the window with his cell phone pressed to his ear. I didn’t like being ordered around, but JC was right. With a sigh, I crossed to the kitchen to get a couple of paper grocery sacks from beneath the sink. I didn’t really have luggage, so they’d have to do. Bags in hand, I picked through the pile of clothing lying next to my toppled dresser for clean socks and underwear. Most of the clothes were okay, just rumpled.

  “I have someone on the way to secure your door. I also have someone contacting your landlord.”

  “What?” I stood up and glared. “Why would you call my landlord? Are you trying to get me evicted?”

  “Don’t be so dramatic. My associate is going to blame the break in on the inadequate locks on your door, which is his fault, not yours. You won’t even lose your deposit.”

  He didn’t mention that I’d likely never be able to live here again, and I was grateful. The place was small and dingy, but it was my home.

  “You gonna tell me who this associate is who you have doing all this for me?”

  “Nope. Is that everything? We better go.”

  “Hold your damn horses. I’m working on it.” I went to the small closet and grabbed a few shirts at random.

  “Oh, pack a dress. A conservative one.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m taking you on a date tonight. Don’t get too excited. It’s a boring work function.”

  I glared at him. “Gee, you’re so romantic. This how you treat all women? No wonder you’re single.”

  “I’m helping you, so you need to help me.”

  “I’m not even gonna ask,” I muttered, while grabbing the only conservative dress I owned from the back of my closet. It was a teal blue cocktail dress that I’d worn for my high school formal. Mama had bought it for me used from a thrift shop and then spent a week at her sewing machine working it into a style from this decade. With all my dancing, I was in better shape than I’d been in high school, so I reckoned it’d fit well enough.

  “If I’m going to go to a work function with you, does this mean you’re finally going to tell me what you do?” I shoved the bag with the dress in it at him to carry, and then hoisted the two shopping bags up on my hips, nodding a let’s go gesture with my head.

  “Sure. I’m a financial analyst for an investment brokerage.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Riiight. All financial analysts carry guns? I thought the only danger spreadsheets posed are from paper cuts.”

  “We’ll talk about it later.”

  I followed JC downstairs and deposited my things in the backseat of my car.

  His face was all twisted up with indecision. He held the keycard to his room in hand. I’d need it in order to take my stuff over there since he had to get on back to analyzing financials or whatever bullshit he claimed. But I could see he didn’t want to let me into his place without him.

  “Look,” I said, trying to put him at ease. “I got stuff to do today, too. I don’t have time to dig around in your drawers or anything, so you can relax.”

  He looked at me as if coming to an important decision. “Come have lunch with me first. I need to get back to the office, but there are some things I need to talk to you about...you know, about my job.”

  I cocked an eyebrow at him. “Your financial job...?”

  “Yes.”

  “There’s a diner about three blocks that way on the left. It’s not too busy. Will that do?”

  “I’ll follow you.”

  The diner was pretty well deserted when we got there. It was one of those places that made the majority of their sales in the early hours after bar time. A place people went to because it was the only thing open, not because it had the best food or ambiance.

  We took a table in the far corner. I was hungry, so I asked for a large order of migas and toast. JC requested a pot of coffee to be left on the table for him, and he drank the first cup with the same gusto as a starving man at a pig roast.

  “Quit stalling,” I said. “I want to hear about this job of yours.”

  He face got all twisty again. “Well...uh...I don’t know how to say this. I’ve never talked about it before. And until two days ago you were a stranger...”

  “I trusted you with my biggest secret. Do you think I want people to know about my nudging? I’m not stupid. I know you’re some sort of cop. FBI?”

  He shook his head no. “Not FBI, but close.” He lowered his voice to just this side of a whisper. “CIA.”

  Oh, crap. All I knew about the CIA was from TV, and none of it made me comfortable. FBI was bad-ass. The CIA was just plain spooky. “Shit, this is one of those I-could-tell-you-but-then-I’d-have-to-kill-you things, isn’t it? No way is this gonna end well for me.” I laughed humorlessly. “I shoulda kn
own from all that spy shit you have hiding in your pockets. You investigating El Caos?”

  He nodded gravely.

  “And you’re telling me this now because...?”

  “I need your help.”

  He proceeded to tell me a long story about psychic agents, working undercover with the gang, getting assigned to a desk job and then needing me to nudge his boss to get him a different assignment.

  “So you told me this secret—a secret that places me in a hell of a lot of danger—because you’re bored at work? What the fuck is wrong with you? I watch TV. I know what happens to people who know too much. You’re either gonna get me killed or sent to witness protection!”

  “With El Caos on your tail, you’ll likely end up in some sort of protection anyway, Marley. Doesn’t it make you feel a little better knowing you have the full power of the US government on your side?”

  “No! What has the government ever done for me? They don’t give a shit about anyone as long as we pay our taxes on time.”

  “I care about you! Well, you know...like as a friend, I mean. Not that you’re not a great girl...”

  I waved off his rambling. “I get it. But how is it supposed to make me feel better knowing that my protector has an even bigger target on his back than I do?”

  His jaw tightened. “You don’t worry about that. I’ll protect you.”

  The waitress approached and set a heaping plate in front of me. I wasn’t hungry anymore, but I wasn’t raised to waste food, either. I picked up my fork and began to eat with a mechanical precision, not tasting anything.

  “Look,” JC said, rubbing his temple. “I was thinking about it this morning. I have access to resources that can fix this for you. Not just this thing with the cartel, but everything. I know your money situation is tight. Maybe I can help you get a job with the Agency. They’re always interested in psy agents, and I know you’re tough enough to handle it. The benefits are amazing. They can even help with your mother—”

  I slammed my fork down. “What do you know of my mama? You might be some sort of spy, but you have no right to go poking through my life.”

  “I’m sorry. I know it was a dickhead move, but in the beginning, I thought you were working for the cartel. I had to check you out.”

  “And now? Does this little heart-to-heart mean you’ve crossed me off your suspect list?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Stop spying on me.” The thought of Mama being able to get the care she needed was tempting...really tempting. And ironic that the government might fix everything for Mama if I went to work for them, but they didn’t give two shits for the thousands of people dying due to lack of proper health insurance. But I knew better than to trust in offers that sounded too good to be true. “And no, I don’t want your job. I have one already, thank you very much.”

  “Yeah, but wouldn’t it be better to have a job where you could keep your clothes on?”

  The glare I leveled on him would’ve made a lesser man piss himself. But not the smug JC Moreno.

  “I’ll have you know that I like my job. As a feminist, I see stripping as an act of female empowerment. It’s all about taking control of my own sexuality.”

  “Do you carry that soap box with you everywhere? I’m not saying I look down on strippers. I know it’s a hard job. I’m just saying you have other options. You know, careers that will last after you get wrinkles. Jobs with more benefits than just free glitter lotion.”

  I shoveled some food in my mouth to avoid having to admit he was right. I wouldn’t be twenty-two forever, and I had a future to consider.

  JC tossed a twenty on the table along with his keycard. “Look, I have to get back to work. So will you help me out tonight?”

  I shrugged. “Yeah, I’ll try, but can’t guarantee it will work. A person has to be pretty susceptible for me to nudge them. If your boss doesn’t want to transfer you, and he’s stubborn about it, my charms aren’t gonna mean shit.”

  He patted my arm. “I appreciate anything you can do. Be ready by seven?”

  I nodded.

  “Okay, if you need anything, just call my cell.”

  I lingered over my plate of cold eggs for a long time, thinking about JC and El Caos and my life. As much as I wanted to crawl into a hole and pull the dirt over me, I needed to put on my big-girl panties and figure out my next steps. While JC’s couch was plenty comfortable, it wasn’t home. And I didn’t see myself ever feeling at secure in my little apartment ever again. A shudder rolled through me at the thought of what would’ve happened if I’d been home when those goons showed up last night.

  Maybe it was time I bought a gun. It wasn’t such a radical idea, considering just about everyone in Texas carried. I didn’t do helpless well, and getting a gun would go a long way toward making me feel safe. Before I could talk myself out of it, I paid the waitress and headed for my car.

  One of the regulars at the club owned a pawn shop on the north side, so I headed there. The store was sandwiched in a strip mall between a taco bar and a dry cleaner, in a neighborhood that was sketchy at best. A cage of steel bars covered the doors and windows. When I pulled the door open, an almost delicate tinkle of bells alerted whoever was inside of my arrival. I passed the racks of DVDs and appliances and headed back to a glass counter displaying a variety of firearms.

  “Misty! So nice of you to come visit me for once.”

  I looked up from the case to see Danny Trout, a short man with a kind smile. As a customer, he tipped well and didn’t take too many liberties. He was one of the good ones.

  “Hey, Danny. Nice shop you got here.”

  “Ah, it’s a dump, but it pays the bills. What can I do you for?”

  “Looking for a gun.”

  He nodded. “For protection? A pretty girl like you can’t be too careful.”

  “Yeah, just something small. It gets awfully dark, walking to my car at night.”

  “Got just the thing for you.” He walked in the back room and returned a minute later with a small box. He opened it and showed me a plain black gun. “This here is a Glock 42, 380 auto. Women like it because it fits well in a smaller hand and it’s light-weight. Here, try it.”

  He was right. The gun felt good in my hand.

  “How much experience do you have shooting?” he asked.

  “When I was a teenager, one of my boyfriends was competitive shooter. He took me out to the range a few times, so I’m not completely inexperienced, but I should probably take a class or something.”

  “You have to do ten hours of training to get a concealed-carry permit. I don’t teach them anymore, but I can recommend a place for you.”

  I filled out the paperwork for the purchase, and Danny gave me a crash course in how to load the magazine and shoot it. The gun and the ammunition ran just shy of $500. I hated spending that much money when it could go toward the co-pay for Mama’s prescriptions, but I didn’t see I had much choice. If I was dead, there wasn’t anybody else who’d volunteer to pay her bills. I paid half in cash from last night’s tips and put the rest on my credit card.

  I said goodbye to Danny and left the shop with the gun case and a note scribbled with information on a training school. In my car, I loaded the weapon and shoved it in my purse. Screw the permit. I’d worry about that when I didn’t have gangsters on my heels.

  Chapter 10

  JC

  After the shitty day I had, attending a dinner party was the last thing I wanted to do. I’d spent the entire afternoon reviewing the now-deceased Felipe Gomez’s business accounts for suspicious activity. His balance sheet had so many holes, it looked like it’d been used for target practice. The more accounts I reviewed, the more I became convinced our pal Gomez was not only laundering money for the cartel, but also squirreling away a sizeable chunk for himself. Cheating the cartel took more guts than I’d given him credit for. Stupid, but gutsy. In recent months, though, it appeared he’d gotten greedier...made some sloppy mistakes. Marley offing him as she di
d was a mercy compared to what would’ve happened when El Caos caught up to him.

  At least now I’d guessed the codes the cartel suspected Marley had were bank account numbers and pass codes leading to their pilfered money. The only reason Gomez would’ve had that information on him was if he’d been getting ready to cash in his chips and peace out. It didn’t make me feel any better about Marley’s situation, but at least I’d narrowed down what we were dealing with.

  Before going up to the room, I stopped by the hotel desk to get my mail and asked for another keycard. I let it drop that my girlfriend would be staying with me for a while, so they wouldn’t give Marley any hassle.

  When I entered the suite, Marley was standing in the middle of the room, pointing the remote at the TV and flipping through channels. She was dressed in a knee-length number the same color as her eyes. She’d wound her hair into a complicated nest of curls at the back of her head that managed to be both elegant and sexy at the same time. A weight that I hadn’t realized I was carrying lifted from my shoulders. I guessed a part of me worried my co-workers would be able to tell she was a stripper by looking at her. Shallow, I knew. But fuck, if Marley didn’t look like a million bucks.

  “Quit standing there with your mouth hanging open,” she ordered. “Haven’t you ever seen a woman in a dress?”

  My mouth snapped closed. “Sorry. It’s just...you look amazing.”

  “What did you expect? Spandex and clear plastic heels?”

  “Can’t you take a compliment without getting defensive?”

  “Sorry. It’s just been one of those days.” She switched off the TV and tossed the remote onto the couch. Her face relaxed into a smile. “Thank you for the compliment. I hope this is good enough for your party. I don’t want to embarrass you.”