“Get out,” I snarled, the tears flowing and the rage building in my voice. “Get out and don’t come back. I don’t want to see you. Don’t make me repeat myself.”
“Nick, maybe you should leave,” said Jordan. “You’re only upsetting her. Come on, I’ll walk you out.”
Nicholas jerked his arm out of Jordan’s grip. “Get off of me, asshole. If you hadn’t convinced her that she could handle this, she’d be at home, fine. Keep filling her head, and you’re both going to get killed.”
Jordan held up his hands. “You want to yell at me? Fine. Let’s finish this conversation elsewhere. She just woke up from surgery.”
“I’m staying until she’s discharged and I’m going home with her.”
“So am I,” Jordan said to Nicholas over my shriek of anger.
“No, you’re not,” I shouted, pushing my way into a sitting position. I pointed a finger at Nicholas, my hands shaking from pure hatred. “I want your stuff out of my apartment by the time I’m released. We’re done, Nicholas. Our relationship is over.”
“Like hell you are,” spat Nicholas at Jordan as if he hadn’t heard me dump his sorry ass. “What makes you think you can take care of her now? You let her get stabbed. You let the wound fester to where she needed surgery. What kind of protector are you? You couldn’t even take care of your own girl—”
Oh shit.
Nicholas had just crossed a line. The line.
Jordan reached out in an almost careless movement and slapped Nicholas. He caught him as Nick almost fell to the ground, grabbed him by his neck, and slammed him against the wall. “Want to finish that sentence?”
“Stop it,” I cried. I tried to get out of bed, but the tangle of monitors made it impossible. “Jordan, let him go. He didn’t mean it.”
Nicholas bared his teeth in a snarl. “Yes, I did. The protector keeps failing,” he choked out. “I’m not giving him the chance to fail you like he failed her.”
Jordan’s face reddened as he applied pressure to his hold on Nicholas, ignoring my pleas to let him go.
Dr. Cardoza and the nurses rushed into my small room and gaped at the scene in front of them. Jordan was choking the airflow from Nicholas, and I was too tied to the bed to do more than kick at him.
“Jordan,” I yelled. “Stop it. Please, I’m begging you.”
He looked at me and took in tears streaming down my face. “You should rest,” he said. The voice that came out was guttural, and his eyes flashed that dark blue that hinted he was nearing the point of no return.
“I will if you let him go. Killing Nicholas will won’t fix this. Forget him and listen.”
Jordan shuddered and lowered his head. Eons passed before he released Nicholas and turned. As gentle as a mother, he picked me up and placed me back in bed, smoothing the covers down around me as Dr. Cardoza and the nurses rushed to take care of Nicholas.
“Nicholas!” I called, fighting off Jordan. My hands lit up as I reached out and punched him. He dodged my blows and stepped back. “You idiot,” I seethed. “What did you do? Is he alive?”
After a few long moments, I heard a wheeze.
“I’m fine,” said Nicholas hoarsely. “Fine.” He staggered to his feet and glared at Jordan.
“Nick,” I cried with relief. “I thought you were dead.”
He kept his eyes on Jordan as he stroked my hair and wiped away my tears. “I may not be a super soldier, but it will take a lot more than that to take me down. Don’t cry, sweetheart. We’ll get this useless piece of crap out of here, and I’ll take care of you.”
I put a hand on his chest and pushed him away. “This changes nothing between us. I don’t want you dead, but I also can’t have you in my life. We’re done. Let Dr. Cardoza look you over. Then get out.” I pointed to Jordan. “You. Do not move. Do not speak.”
“Jasper,” he said, pleading with his eyes, “I’m sorry. I was just—”
“What part did you not understand? Not a word. Dr. Cardoza, will you please take care of Nicholas? I want to make sure there’s no permanent damage.”
Nicholas bared his teeth and growled at Jordan before allowing Dr. Cardoza and the nurses to usher him toward an examination room. He shoulder-checked Jordan and whispered something that made the restrained man turn red.
“He shouldn’t have mentioned her,” said Jordan of his dead girlfriend once we were alone. “He isn’t worthy of speaking her name. He isn’t worthy of you either. Remember what he said.”
“What is wrong with you?” I cried. “You can’t just choke people to death when they upset you.”
“I wasn’t upset. I’m furious, and the only reason I haven’t murdered him is that you won’t let me. So don’t think I’m not pissed off at you, too.”
“Excuse me for keeping you from killing a relative innocent, no matter how stupid and cruel he is.”
Jordan stepped closer, an animal trainer warily approaching a savage beast, or in my case, a parent approaching a screaming toddler, and rested a hand on my leg. “He needs to die,” he said. “What he said about you is unacceptable. He threatens your self-esteem and your core. I won’t have that.”
“Cripes, Jordan. You want to protect me? Fine. I accept that. But you need to learn when to back off. I can’t even break up with my boyfriend without you strong-arming your way into things.” My breath hitched as the reality of the last hour sunk in. Nicholas’ words echoed in my head.
I told you, She purred. He only wanted the innocent woman and pretends that the feral creature beneath the skin doesn’t exist. He fears us and wants to silence our voice.
Jordan took another risk and sat down at the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry.”
“I need space from you, him, all of it. Please, just go.”
He nodded and left me alone with my thoughts, Her commentary, and my tears.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
DESPITE HIS BEST EFFORTS, Nicholas did not win me over in the subsequent days of my convalescence. He showed up at my apartment with flowers, home-cooked meals, and gifts. When I refused to open the door, he left them at my doorstep. I wasn’t proud that I enjoyed the hell out of those meals. But he was an excellent cook, and the pain medication made preparing food difficult.
Without Nicholas to ease the pain with his healing abilities, my recovery was slow and agonizing. Every movement seemed to pull on my stitches. I found that I couldn’t change the dressings without aggravating the wound, so I’d resorted to begging Dakarai for help. He was as tender as a mother hen and sure as hell clucked like one. He cooked for me when I wasn’t devouring Nicholas’ delivered meals and waited in my bedroom while I showered just in case. Just in case I fell or tore something during the difficult act of scrubbing my hair. I’d snorted at his reasoning, but he was too sweet to deny. Slowly, I felt more like myself.
Mikael had been well enough to bring work to my apartment. Together, we read through all the scouting reports. Each one revealed the same: The cult was on the move, searching for and kidnapping Vespers with strong powers. We’d rescued most. The cult members chose death rather than captivity. We had just snagged a few new ones, and they were awaiting interrogation in the cells below ground.
On the tenth day of my recovery, I felt strong enough to get back to work and oversee the interrogations. I made my way down to the sub-level and found Voss and Jordan waiting for me.
“Let’s get this over with so I can get back to bed.”
Jordan stuck his hands in his pockets and walked toward the first cell in the long line. He knocked on the glass, and the prisoner peered through the window. His face brightened as he saw us.
Unlike the others, Adam Norwood was a long-term resident in our prison. He’d been captured a year earlier and felt so guilty about his crimes that he’d accepted his imprisonment. Adam was also the childhood friend who’d turned against me after the deaths of my family. We’d since reconciled but had agreed that he belonged where he was.
Jordan opened the door and walked insid
e. I followed, wrinkling my nose as I took in the messy cell.
Cell was an inaccurate term for his accommodations. The room held a full-sized bed, a couch, a large flat-screen television, a desk, and a kitchenette. Adam had a laptop with limited internet access and a gaming system and new titles. He was our best-behaved prisoner, so we rewarded him when we could. And he preferred our accommodations compared to what they’d receive if we handed them over to the proper authorities.
“Jordan! Jas!” he cheered. “To what do I owe this visit? And the both of you at the same time?”
Smiling, I hugged him. “How are your classes going?”
Adam flashed me the grin that I knew like my brother’s. “College is harder than I expected, but it’s fun. Do you know that there are online fraternities? They’re based on the honor system, but I’ve been thinking of joining one for the social interactions.”
Jordan frowned. “I’ll have to check that out first. You know the rules.”
“I wouldn’t say anything other than I’m a shut-in,” Adam said quickly. “It’s just that it would be nice to have someone to talk to about classes and stuff.”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it. Have you decided on a major yet?” I asked.
“I’m leaning toward history, but who knows. I might do something crazy like theoretical physics.”
“Uh, dude, you suck at science,” I laughed. “You melted a hole in the lab desk junior year.”
Adam ducked his head. “I know. Just was thinking about it.” He exhaled. “I’m guessing this isn’t a social visit.”
“No,” said Jordan. “You have new cellmates. We’ve captured a handful of cult members from different states. They’re not as forthcoming as you. Is there anything you can tell us about their operations?”
Adam pursed his lips and sat down on the loveseat in front of his bed. He patted the spot beside him and beckoned me to join him. I plopped down onto the cushion and faced him. “I don’t know much. I was only involved with Marcus and Liliana. Like I’ve said, they had a different focus than Miriam and Charles. I don’t know if everyone was going after something different, or if they were the only two factions. I didn’t even know it had spread across the country until you told me.”
“What’s your best guess?” I asked.
“I think it was driven by the personalities of the leaders. The people who followed Miriam and Charles were different from our group. They were more mystical, more religious fanatics.” Adam shrugged. “We took part in rituals, but it was a means to an end in creating an army. That’s why Marcus wanted you, Jordan.”
Jordan arched a brow. “Why are you telling us this now?”
“It didn’t occur to me before. I only recently put the pieces together. You are the most powerful and skilled leader, I mean besides you, Jas. When Marcus spoke about you, he’d say things like you were the ideal soldier.”
Jordan crossed his arms and leaned against the closed door, his eyes narrowed and lips pressed into a thin line. His face flushed with suppressed anger. “I’d never fight for him.”
Adam reached over and put an arm around me. Squeezing my shoulder, he pulled me against him and kissed my forehead. “I missed you,” he murmured. “Please visit me more often. Please?”
“Focus,” I replied, “and we’ll see. I’ve been busy traveling. So you know nothing about the other cult factions?”
“No,” he said, “only that there were more people than I knew about and they all wanted to take part in the rituals.”
“Great,” I grumbled. “More people who want to kill innocents. I should fry them instead of interrogating.”
Adam shuddered. “You’ve gotten scary, Jas. It’s kinda hot.”
I snickered and poked his side. “You need an online girlfriend or something.” Stretching, I removed myself from his embrace and stood. “We have to go now, but I’ll visit you next week.”
“I’ll hold you to it,” he said. He pointed at Jordan. “We’re overdue for a rematch unless you’re scared I’ll kick your ass.”
Jordan scoffed. “Video game tough talk. I’ll check my schedule.”
We hugged and said our goodbyes.
Voss, who’d been waiting for us, raised a brow. “Did he tell you anything we didn’t already know?”
“Not really,” I admitted. “We may not be dealing with the same mentality from each group,” I told him what Adam had said about the different factions.
Voss scratched his chin, and we walked toward the next cell. “How are we doing this? Jordan’s the bad cop?”
“You’re the good cop,” I said. “I’m the unassuming person who will fry them if they don’t cooperate.”
“Ah, scary cop. Good deal. Who’s first?”
Jordan thumbed through the files in his hands. “Stan Johnson. Part of the Vancouver cult. He refuses to eat and only drinks water. We’ve forced him to drink nutritional shakes.”
Jordan punched in the key code and placed his hand against the scanning pad to open the door. Stan must have been losing weight. His clothes were baggy and hung on him as if he’d filled them out not too long ago. He had circles under his eyes, and his face was gaunt. He saw us and sneered.
Unlike Adam’s comfortable cell, we’d kept Stan in one of our temporary facilities. He had a twin bed, a desk, a chair, and television without the impressive cable package. I thought that basic TV was punishment.
“What do you want?” he spat.
Jordan pulled out the chair and offered it. “Sit,” he said to Stan and pointed toward the bed. “This will be easier if you cooperate.”
Stan crossed his arms and leaned against the far wall.
Voss sighed and sat on the corner of the desk. “Here’s the deal. We don’t want to make this more difficult than it has to be. We only want to talk.”
“I have nothing to say to you.”
I glanced at Jordan and nodded. He walked over to Stan and punched him in the gut. As he curled into himself, Jordan dragged him to the bed and forced him to sit. He crossed his arms and loomed over him.
“What does your cult want with our people? What are you trying to accomplish?” asked Voss.
Stan glared and pressed his lips together. I nodded again, and Jordan cuffed the side of his head hard enough to throw him sideways. Stan sat up, rubbing his head and scowling.
Voss leaned forward. “You should answer questions, or he’ll break bones. Now, what do you want with our people?”
“Their blood,” he spat. “What else could we get from them? We want their powers.”
“For what purpose?”
Stan blinked. “Are you stupid? Why else would we want their blood? To steal their powers.”
“Why?”
“Figure it out.”
Jordan glanced at me. Hesitating, I nodded again and wiggled my fingers. He grabbed Stan’s hand and snapped one of his fingers backward. Stan wriggled and tried to pull his hand back, but Jordan was too strong for the wiry, underfed man. I winced at the cracking sound as Stan howled in pain.
“More?” Jordan asked.
I shook my head and gestured for Voss to continue.
“We can have your finger reset, or you can live the rest of your life with a crippled hand. Why do you want our abilities?”
Stan sniffled and shook his head. Sighing, I nodded again. Jordan grabbed Stan’s hand, snatched the lamp off the table and slammed the base into his fingers until the bones shattered. The crackle and snapping of bones were violently loud. Stan sobbed and held his hand against his chest.
“Why?” asked Voss. “After he’s done with your other hand, he’ll go after larger bones. He’ll break them so they’ll never set and you’ll be crippled for life.”
Stan cradled his arm and spat at me. He missed, although the gelatinous blob hit the toe of my boots. Without asking my permission, Jordan snapped Stan’s wrist in a quick motion that had him howling again.
“Don’t touch her,” he snarled.
Within the nex
t hour, Stan suffered a broken femur, a dislocated elbow, and bruises all over his body. He refused to say anything more.
“Get medical in here,” I said, choking back nausea. I never enjoyed watching Jordan work even though he was coldly efficient and never did more than was necessary. Neither of us was into prolonged and unnecessary torture.
Voss made the call, and within minutes the team in charge of treating prisoners had sedated Stan and were setting his bones. One nurse glared at Jordan, disgusted with his work. He said nothing and walked over to the next cell.
Voss swallowed hard. “Gloria Martinez. She refuses to speak to anyone.”
“Shit,” I said under my breath. I’d hoped that Stan was the last of the prisoners to require motivation to speak. It looked to be a long, nauseating day.
We stepped into the room to find a short, plump woman in her thirties. Gloria didn’t have the fanatical gleam in her eyes. Hers were dull. Unlike Stan, she hadn’t bathed. Her clothes were wrinkled and stained. Her bright red dyed hair hung limp and greasy against her head, and she slumped as she sat against the headboard of her bed. This one would make me sick.
“Gloria,” said Voss. “We will ask you a few questions. If you answer them, we’ll leave you in peace.”
She stared at us blankly.
“Gloria,” he said again. “Do you understand what we’re saying? Nod if you can hear me.”
The woman lowered her eyes.
Voss and Jordan looked at me. I shook my head, unwilling to torture a woman who, by all appearances, wasn’t all there. Jordan crossed the room and squatted before her. He lifted her face toward his and stared at her eyes. He held up a finger.
“Can you follow my finger with your eyes?”
Gloria glared at him and yanked her chin away. She resumed staring at her hands. Someone was home behind the blank eyes. Jordan slapped her cheek and took her chin in his hand.
“You understand that I can make your life excruciating. I broke several bones, and I’m not opposed to snapping a few more. I suggest you answer.”
Gloria stared above his head and remained silent.
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