by Jodi Redford
It took forever to wade through the murky morass of his memory. Bleary-eyed, Jerrick scanned his surroundings. A massive empty warehouse. Colorful graffiti stenciling the dull gray walls. Why was he—?
Events from earlier ambushed his brain.
Avi. Those motherfuckers had threatened her.
Fear an icy blade in his chest, he lurched to his feet. He took no time to ponder if his captors or Lex were responsible for loosening his bindings, and instead raced to the door at the opposite end of the building. He tried the knob and found it locked. If those assholes thought that’d slow him down, they were in for a rude awakening.
Any other day, it would have been an affront to his skills to rely on his magic. When it came to Avi, he was more than willing to bend his self-imposed rules. The sturdy metal proved no match against the forceful blast of his fury and panic. White-hot sparks ricocheting off the steel, the door sheared from its hinges and flew several feet before careening into a nearby garbage bin. He loped outside, desperately scanning the shadowed lot. There were no buildings beyond the warehouse. No sign of life. And sure as hell no way to get the fuck out of there short of hoofing it or calling for a transit cab.
Impatience and fear staking their hazardous toll, he dashed inside the warehouse. A sliver of relief embedded beneath his skin when he spotted his jacket hugging the base of a steel support beam.
His fearful glances darting every which way, Lex tailed him across the room. “Shouldn’t we, uh, be getting out of here? What if those men come back?”
Ignoring Lex, Jerrick dug inside his jacket’s interior pocket. He pulled out his micro com and a folded sheet of paper that hadn’t been there earlier. He opened it with a rough crackle, his gaze zipping over its contents.
Apologies for the subterfuge, but it was the only way we could be assured your reputation in acquisitions is deserved. Not that the kelluta won’t be enjoyed.
The goddamn tribal statue he’d been hired to lift from the wealthy collector in Gobridier. Sonofabitch. The entire job had been a setup. He crumpled the paper and whipped it to the floor.
“I mean it. I really think we should get out of here.”
Lex’s timid demand cracked through Jerrick’s haze of fury. Transferring every ounce of his rage to the man cowering in front of him, he clamped Lex’s scrawny throat with one hand. “I’m giving you five seconds to tell me what part you’re playing in this shit.”
A strangled gurgle sputtered from Lex. “Y-you’re…ch-choking…me.”
“Kind of the whole idea.” Jerrick squeezed harder. “I can play this game all night, if you want.”
Lex’s face turned a dark shade of red. “R-rather…you didn’t.”
“Then you better start talking.”
“About w-what?”
“Tarker, I’m getting real sick of your bullshit, and having my innards fried has made me an ornerier son of a bitch than usual.” He vised his hand tighter. “And you better believe if they’ve hurt Avi, you’ll be praying for mercy.”
“Avi? Don’t…know… Gaarrg.”
Jerrick loosened his grip, allowing a sliver of air down Lex’s esophagus. Powering on his micro com, he sent a sync link to central transit. After acquiring his coordinates, the dispatcher promised a driver within five minutes. Far as Jerrick was concerned, it was four minutes and fifty-nine seconds he didn’t have. Nerves strung to the breaking point, he cut the link and shoved the com into his pocket before returning his focus to Lex. “Who are your employers? Your five seconds starts now.”
Lex’s eyes grew enormous behind his thick eyeglasses. “Fitzsimons Accounting.”
“Why the fuck would an accounting firm hire a thief?”
“Oh, you mean those employers. I thought you were talking about my nine-to-five job.”
Jerrick could feel his eyeballs throbbing. “Let’s try this again. I want the names of the bastards behind the kelluta job.”
“I don’t know. No names were exchanged.”
“Convenient. We’re at three seconds.”
“Wait!” Lex jerked his head, and his eyeglasses slid down the bridge of his nose. “I have one of their sync-links programmed into my micro.”
Jerrick knew better than to get his hopes up, but his pulse revved anyway. “Where is it?”
“My trouser pocket.”
He used his free hand to fetch the communicator. He clicked it on and shoved it in Lex’s hand before digging his thumb a fraction deeper into the side of the man’s neck. “Pull up the link.”
Lex’s fingers fumbled over the touchpad. “Here, this one.”
Snatching the communicator, Jerrick glanced at the number, committing it to memory before hitting the connector sync. After a few disjointed buzzes from the communicator, a recorded female voice broke through the static and announced the link had been disconnected.
Jerrick hurled the communicator against the wall and glared at Lex.
“I still had a one-year contract on that micro.”
“Tarker, that’s the least of your worries right now.”
“Surely you don’t mean to still choke me.”
“No, I’ve moved on from that plan.” Jerrick curled his mouth with menace. “Too quick and painless.”
“But I had nothing to do with whatever’s going on. I’m a victim here, just like you.”
“Bullshit. You helped set me up.”
Lex tried shaking his head, but it didn’t budge much thanks to the firm grip of Jerrick’s hand. “No. I swear they only hired me to arrange your services in acquiring the ivory kelluta. That was the extent of our dealings. You’ve got to believe me.”
He couldn’t afford to trust anyone at this point. Which was why he saw no choice but to drag Lex along when the transit driver pulled into the lot a few minutes later. Until he was reasonably satisfied that Lex knew nothing, there was no way he was letting him out of his sight.
Giving the man a less-than-gentle nudge into the backseat, Jerrick climbed in after him and gave the driver the address for Avi’s shop. Plowing a hand through his hair, Jerrick visualized squeezing the life from his captors. He wanted to kill them. So badly, he could taste it. No one threatened Avily and got away with it.
The insane bottleneck of the roads doubled the time it should have taken to reach Primus Avenue. Jerrick dug for a couple of bills and tossed them to the driver before grabbing Lex by the collar and hauling him from the vehicle. Quickening his pace, Jerrick maneuvered through the aggravating horde of Amora Moon revelers, his pulse ratcheting. He shoved past a barricade of costumed fairies and slammed to a halt the second he spotted Avily slumped unconscious in the doorway of her shop. The oxygen exploded from his lungs in a sharp, painful cannon blast. “Sweet gods, no.”
Knees threatening to give out, he hunkered next to Avily and brushed aside a lock of her pale hair with trembling fingers. A heavy snore broke past her lips, releasing the awful tension in his gut. The next instant that emotion was replaced with an equal dose of anger when his attention snagged on the discarded liquor bottles nearby. “You little idiot.”
He had half a mind to tan her backside for putting a scare in him and foolishly endangering herself by passing out drunk and leaving herself defenseless. The streets of Tul’dea were overridden with lowlifes who possessed unsavory ideas of what they’d like to do to helpless, unconscious females they were fortunate enough to stumble across.
Then there was the sinister threat of the individuals who’d threatened to harm her if Jerrick didn’t do their bidding.
With that reminder steeling his fury, Jerrick gathered her into his arms and hefted to his feet. The door behind her was unlocked. He cycled between relief and anger over that fact. Nodding to Lex, he motioned for the man to precede him inside the shop.
Lex dutifully obeyed, his curiosity evident as he stared at Avi’s limp body. “Who is she?”
“The death of me,” Jerrick uttered beneath his breath before wedging the door shut with his hip. After shooting the deadbo
lt home, he directed Lex to an adjacent closet housing cleaning supplies. Once Lex stepped inside the space, Jerrick swung the door shut, attempting not to rattle Avi’s head in the process. Course, not like he bloody had to worry about knocking her unconscious. He clicked the locking gizmo, earning a plaintive whine from the other side of the door.
“It smells weird in here.” Loud snuffles came from Lex. “Like moldy mop.”
Jerrick ground his teeth. “If you don’t shut up, I’m opening this door and shoving that moldy mop up the first available orifice.”
Crickets could be heard over the deafening silence that descended on the closet. Satisfied his threat had subdued Lex’s sulking for the time being, Jerrick hiked Avily tighter to his chest and strode through the dark interior of her shop. Years of skulking around in pitch-black environments made it relatively easy to reach the back stairway leading to her upstairs apartment without running into anything or breaking his neck. Fishing in his pocket, he located a thin metal pick. His magic would be infinitely faster at defeating the lock, but he doubted she’d appreciate him destroying her door. Considering his current mood, no telling the damage he’d inflict.
Less than two seconds later, he sprang the deadbolt and swung the door open. The rickety stairs creaked beneath his boot heels on the journey up. Deciphering his way through the shadowy maze of her apartment, he located her bedroom. Or at least he assumed it was her bedroom. He’d never been inside this section of her apartment. Regardless, there was a bed in the middle of the space. Good enough.
With far less gentleness than he’d employed when picking Avily up earlier, he tossed her on top of the mattress. The springs boinged in protest, and the mountain of pillows near the headboard went tumbling over the side. A groaning murmur spilled from Avily before her eyelashes fluttered.
He leaned over her supine body, boxing her in with his arms. Her glassy gaze took forever to focus on him. Once it did, she graced him with a goofy smile that was likely influenced by the six empty liquor bottles littering her entrance downstairs. God knows there was no way in hell she’d be giving him seductive, come-hither grins if she were sober.
“Imagine seeing you here in my dreams.” She giggled as if she’d uttered the funniest damn thing ever before tiptoeing her fingers along the front of his T-shirt. Muscles tensing beneath her touch, he sucked in a breath. Propping herself up on one elbow, she licked her bottom lip, drawing his attention to its succulent curve. “Are you going to tie me up like you did last time?”
His eyebrows arched the same instant liquid lust surged toward his cock.
What bloody hell kind of dreams was she having about him?
Willing away that intriguing but entirely best left unanswered mystery, he sat on the edge of the mattress and speared her with a stern look. “You probably won’t remember a single damn part of this conversation, but promise me you’ll never pull a fool stunt like this again. If anything happened to you, Avi…” A fierce shudder tripped through him at the horrible possibilities parading through his mind.
“Don’t be angry at me. Please. I couldn’t bear it.” Fingers curling in the cotton of his shirt, she coaxed him closer. Her eyes a dreamy invitation, she slipped one hand around his neck and twined her fingers in his hair.
He stared at the beckoning softness of her lips. Don’t fucking think about it. Even as he hammered that warning into his brain, Avily leaned into him, the sweetness of her breath an appetizer to the lush surrender of her lips upon his.
It wasn’t the first time he’d come up against the potent addiction of Avily’s kisses, but he was still woefully unprepared for the complete enslavement she inflicted on his senses. The sheer intoxication that rode shotgun with kissing her shivered through his bones. Sang inside his blood with heady enticement. Groaning, he cupped her cheek and eased his tongue past her lips.
She yielded with zero resistance, her tongue eagerly encouraging him to deepen the kiss. So he did, glutting himself on her like he was starved for her sweetness. Hell, starved didn’t begin to describe the ravenous hunger she brought out in him. He’d had nothing but time these last five years, and he’d spent every second of it torturing himself with the memory of her. The memory of this.
Sweeping his tongue along hers, he basked in her shaky whimper. He was a goddamn bastard for taking advantage of her in a moment of weakness. Whether that weakness belonged to them both equally didn’t make any difference. It was wrong. Momentously, stupendously idiotic. Even if she tasted like pure ambrosia.
Falling victim to his own desire, he sucked her pillowy bottom lip between his teeth—one last delicious memory to file away for a lonely night when he felt the need to torment himself. The seductive catch of her breath was like velvet dragging on his overheated skin.
Reinforcing himself with every ounce of willpower he possessed, he slid his mouth from hers and settled her onto the mattress. He smoothed his thumb over the delicate rise of her cheekbone, triggering her contented sigh.
“Why do you have this power over me, Jer?”
She had it completely wrong. She was the one holding all of the power. And that, more than anything, scared him to death.
He’d always considered himself relatively intelligent. But when it came to Avily, his brain was on a permanent vacation. He couldn’t afford to let her get under his skin. Hell, she couldn’t afford it either. Just being acquainted with him put her life in danger. Tonight was living proof of that. The men blackmailing him knew enough about his relationship with her to use it to their advantage. If they figured out the real magnitude of his feelings for her…
She’d never be safe.
His pulse unsteady, he watched her drift back into her dreams. The compulsion to crawl in next to her, hold her tight so no one could dare take her away, pounded in his chest.
He did this to her. Dragged her into the middle of gods knew what and made her a target. She needed as much protection from him as she did his blackmailers.
Tension eating at his gut, he left her to sleep off her drunken stupor and retraced his steps to the lower level. He opened the door to the supply closet and offered Lex a narrow look. “How did you end up the go-between for those fuckers?” A red stain crawled along Lex’s face, stirring Jerrick’s suspicions. “Spit it out, Tarker.”
“A woman approached me at a bar. We had a few drinks, and she promised to go out with me if I helped her employers set up the contract with you.”
“How have you survived all these years with zero sense?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
Jerrick grunted. So much for gleaning any relevant clues from Lex. If nothing else, he had to give those blackmailing bastards credit for targeting Lex for this scam. They couldn’t have found a bigger dupe if they’d tried. He stepped away from the door and gestured for Lex to vacate the closet.
When they reached the front entrance, the man gave a nervous cough. “So, uh, what now?”
Jerrick scraped a hand over his jaw. “I figure a way out of this fucking mess.”
“I can help.”
He squinted in Lex’s direction. “By going home? I agree.”
An uncharacteristic stubbornness furrowed Lex’s brow. “You need to track down that scientist, right? I know my way around a computer. I can help you.”
Pinpointing info on a dead science geek wasn’t the toughest task Jerrick had come up against. It’d be child’s play compared to the six months of surveillance he’d labored through during the Senecca diamond heist. “You’re way out of your league, Tarker. Go home.”
Lex’s face fell, and he made a nervous humming noise in the back of his throat.
Jerrick tweaked the bridge of his nose, his patience eroding fast. “What the hell is your problem now?”
“I’m scared of going home by myself. What if those men know where I live and come back for me?”
“They won’t.”
“But what if they do? Could you live with yourself if they smother me in my sleep?”
> “Considering I’ve debated the same thing—yes.”
Lex adopted a whimpering expression that increased Jerrick’s headache.
What cosmic joke enlisted me as everyone’s damn protector tonight? Growling under his breath, he grabbed Lex by the elbow and hauled the man along during the five-block walk to Tul’dea’s lower-east quadrant and the cluster of studio units where Jerrick bunked.
The already cramped residence took on an even more claustrophobic quality as Lex’s bothersome presence infiltrated every square inch of Jerrick’s sacred space. Head pounding, Jerrick clamped a hand on Lex’s scrawny shoulder, halting him before he could weasel past the threshold of Jerrick’s office. Capturing Lex’s gaze, Jerrick pointed to the archway above their heads. “See that invisible sign up there? It says ‘Don’t even think about walking in here.’”
Lex screwed his eyes into a squint and stared at the spot Jerrick indicated. Taking advantage of the man’s preoccupation with the nonexistent object, Jerrick clicked the door shut and crossed to his desk. A moment later he booted up his compu-tablet.
For the next several hours he gathered every available piece of data about Casper Winston and Kiantu Laboratories. The pickings were frustratingly slim. The doc had kept a fairly low profile, and the laboratory Casper worked for didn’t cough up much in the way of beneficial clues. Jerrick tracked down their main compu-site and a dozen or so articles covering the various clinical research they were involved in. That was it. He took notes regardless, hoping the various puzzle pieces would eventually click together and shed light on what formula Casper had been working on prior to his death.
And that was another thing. Other than a brief obit written up in the Tul’dea Times, he found no real documentation regarding the scientist’s passing. If it’d indeed been a homicide like he suspected, those involved went to great lengths to cover all evidence of it.
Rubbing his forehead, Jerrick gazed blearily at the small pile of notes until their collected words began swimming into an indistinct blur. His head wobbling, he leaned toward the desk and closed his eyes.