Illicit Connections (Illicit Minds Book 2)

by Rebecca Royce

  The thought jarred her. There was no way Seven would be around him long enough to learn Ben at all. This wasn’t her family—it never would be—and wishing that it could be, even in the deepest, most hidden place of her heart, would not make it so.

  Wishes were for people with futures.

  “Ben, take the clothes, please. I really want to get my job done. If Madame finds out I’m sitting in the parking lot of a mall not being occupied with actual work, she’s likely to pull me out of here altogether, and then I’ll never fix your ghost problem.”

  Ben turned to the woman who still stood outside the window. “Thank you for the clothes, Ms. Mary.”

  Apparently, at some point in their discussion he had learned the woman’s name. That was a good thing, she supposed.

  Mary’s face lit up. “You’re welcome, and I hope you do the right thing here.”

  Ben sighed. She could tell he didn’t want to ask the obvious question by the way his free hand gripped the steering wheel. “The right thing?”

  “Run away with her, of course.”

  Seven gasped as she leaned over Ben. “No, that would be the wrong thing, Ms. Mary. The very worst thing Ben could possibly do. Thank you so much for the clothes. I’ll never be able to repay you.”

  “It was my pleasure. If you ever meet my son—his name was Guy, Guy McKidd. They took him far away from us.”

  Seven doubted she’d be meeting too many new people in the immediate future, but she still smiled and waved as Ms. Mary walked quickly through the parking lot.

  “Everyone at my Institution is a number. If I know Guy McKidd, I know him as something else entirely.”

  Ben nodded, his brow creased. He didn’t turn to look at her as he stared straight ahead. “Are you buckled?”

  She had put on her seatbelt as soon as they’d gotten into the car and not taken it off. “Yes, thank you.”

  “Great.” He looked in the rearview mirror. “Girls, are you buckled?”

  They both answered that they were, and Ben pulled out of the parking lot as if he were being chased. Seven suspected he was. Her friends at Crescent had always been envious that she got to leave. Most of them were considered too dangerous to be given passes to work on the outside.

  But Seven knew the truth. As much as it was nice to be allowed to see a bit of the outside world, it was hell on the people around her. She’d never been with anyone as kind-hearted as Ben before. Her presence alone seemed to be doing bad things. She was sure he hadn’t slept at all the night before, and now he looked as if he were in physical pain.

  “I’m sorry.” Seven sighed. “If I wasn’t certain that you were all but under attack by this ghost energy, I would insist that you send me back right now. I’m clearly causing you a tremendous amount of grief.”

  “You’re not causing me grief.” He looked at her sideways. “You’re causing me a certain amount of moral reflection, and that’s always uncomfortable. Also, other feelings that I haven’t had in a while.”

  She wondered if she should know what he was talking about. He was so handsome. Clasping her hands in her lap, she forced herself not to touch the side of his face. She wanted to stroke away his worry lines. She wanted to know what his breath felt like mixed with hers.

  Instead, she looked out the window. Most of the area they drove through looked suburban, like a million little towns she’d traveled through in her journeys about the country. The only difference was the canal that paralleled them as they made their way through.

  “The first house I have to take you to is the home of an older couple. The Pellangros. Susan and Doug. They’re fine people, I suppose, but they’re not going to be home when we go in.” He rubbed his head. “They don’t want to be there while we work.”

  Seven turned to look at Ben. He was being kind, but she knew what he meant.

  They didn’t want to be there with her. That was just as well. The longer she sat in the car, surrounded by Ben and his daughters, the more exhausted she felt. More people would only make it worse, because every single person she encountered reminded her how alone in the world she really was.

  “Good.” She rubbed her nose. “Maybe we can get through this fast. I’ll clear their house.”

  “In a hurry?”

  She wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard sarcasm in his voice.

  “Yes and no.” If he didn’t get it, she wasn’t going to explain it to him.

  “Daddy, tomorrow can we take Seven out on the boat?”

  Ben sighed. “I don’t know if Seven likes boats, and I don’t know if it would be a problem for Madame.”

  Now, that time, she’d heard the sneer. “Have I upset you?”

  “No. Don’t be ridiculous. How could you upset me?”

  “I’m not sure.” She wanted to yell but kept her voice level because of the girls in the backseat. “I frequently don’t understand what people want me to do or not do. If I’ve offended you, I’m not sure how.”

  The car jolted to a stop as Ben pulled it into a short driveway that led up to what looked like a thin house. Seven glanced to her left and saw that Ben’s house was three away from where they were located.

  She pointed at the brown house in front of them. “How old is this house?”

  “Not too old by New Orleans standards. Houses in this city can be really, really ancient.” He scratched his head. “Most of the houses on the block were built around the same time, in the fifties. This one is called a shotgun house. It might be slightly older than the others.”

  A shiver racked her body as she stared at it.

  “Something wrong?” Ben regarded her coolly.

  “I think this house is scary.” Daphne’s voice was barely a whisper. “And I don’t like Mr. Doug and Ms. Susan.”

  “Daphne.” Ben unbuckled his seatbelt. “One place is not more scary than anywhere else. It’s only our imaginations that lead us to believe they are.”

  Seven noticed that he didn’t comment on Daphne’s remark about the home’s owners. She quickly unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of the car.

  The humidity of New Orleans hit her square in the face. It seemed to her it never got as humid near the Institution as it did here.

  The brown “shotgun house,” as Ben had called it, had white-and-blue shutters and a covered porch. There was nothing inherently frightening about it, so why was she—and Daphne—so freaked out?

  As they walked forward, the door swung open and a woman stepped out. She was medium height, blonde-haired and blue-eyed. Dressed plainly in jeans and a white T-shirt, it was her bare feet that startled Seven. Her head held high, her stride confident, she could have been wearing a ball gown—as Madame sometimes did before she left for fundraisers.

  Suddenly, Seven was acutely aware that she still wore her orange jumpsuit. She had no idea what Mary McKidd had bought her, but she wanted to wear it right now. Seven shivered again. Whoever this woman was, she was powerful.

  Right now, even walking next to Ben, Seven was terribly vulnerable.

  A smile formed on the woman’s face, one that didn’t reach her eyes. “Ben, so glad you got here with the help.” Her eyes scanned them, and Seven wished she could vomit. “And I see you brought the kids, too. How lovely. It’s been such a long time since I saw them.”

  Seven thought it was a tribute to how polite the girls really were that they didn’t turn tail and run for the car.

  “Susan.” Ben broadened his leg stance. “I thought you and Doug didn’t want to be here while Seven worked.”

  Whatever the woman’s reasons for changing her mind about attendance, Seven wished she’d change it back.

  “Doug and I talked. We decided that since it’s our home, it would be best if one of us attended.”

  She sighed and smiled as though everything in her world was just fine. The woman was a liar, and Seven had no idea why she was so certain, except that she was absolutely hiding something.

  “I’m less squeamish than he is, so we decided I’d
stay. He took the boat out. You should join him one of these days. You guys can race out on Lake Pontchartrain.”

  “Oh well, Susan, there are rules for when you can and cannot race on the lake. They keep us all safe out there, as you know.” He squeezed Seven’s shoulders. “This is Seven, and nothing she does should make you feel at all squeamish.”

  For a split second, Susan narrowed her eyes before she smiled again. Seven tried to imagine what she saw. If she were Susan, she would see Ben and his girls walking along with a Conditioned Ghost-Hunter who was dressed in an orange jumpsuit. So what had made her narrow her gaze with so much venom?

  That was when she realized Ben had put his hands on her shoulders. He was touching her. In. Front. Of. Susan.

  She’d gotten so used to him touching her. It was odd. In general, she didn’t like to be handled. But she liked Ben doing it. He was a beautiful, sexy man, and she wished she were a normal woman so she could know what his strong fingers felt like all over her body. But the trouble was that she had gotten used to it.

  Seven stepped away from his hold. He was such a sweetheart—and he was going to get himself into massive amounts of trouble if he wasn’t careful.

  Lowering her head in her usual manner, she avoided Susan’s eye contact. “Mr. Lavelle has been very kind to me, and I am enormously grateful for his faith in my ability to get the job done. If you’re comfortable with my entering your home, I would be happy to take a look at your ghost problem.”

  “Ben has always had the biggest heart. I was a friend to his late wife. We all adored her, and the whole neighborhood feels protective of the girls. Frankly, if we weren’t desperate, I wouldn’t want an aberration like you anywhere near any of us.”

  Seven nodded. She’d expected the woman to say something like that.

  Ben practically growled. “Susan, that is enough. My so-called big heart aside, I assure you I am capable of deciding who should and should not be around my family. Seven is safe, and she is helpful.”

  Pretending she hadn’t heard his words, Seven continued, “I would be happy to provide you with Madame’s phone number—the head of Crescent, who can vouch for the safety of your premises.”

  “It certainly knows what to say, doesn’t it?”

  “Susan.” Ben spoke through clenched teeth.

  There was nothing about this situation that was new to Seven. Even though people asked for her help, they still felt entitled to begrudge her existence. That was fine. She was used to it. But Ben’s girls…

  Seven didn’t dare turn around and look at Daphne or Ella.

  They’d been silent.

  “With your permission, I’ll go inside and get started.”

  She hated this with a passion. Never before had she felt this exposed. It mattered to her what Ben’s girls thought of her. She didn’t want them to hear her referred to as an it. Thinking that they might come to regard her that way made her heart clench.

  Truth was, it mattered to her what Ben thought of her, too. So far, he seemed to like her—he treated her so nicely. She wanted to see him smile at her, not get that pained look from constantly having to work to make people treat her well.

  This whole situation felt fraught with trouble. Better to go in, find the ghost, and get out.

  Susan nodded her consent, and Seven scooted past her through the front door. The shivers she’d felt in the front yard were nothing compared to what she endured entering the house.

  “Why did Ms. Susan call her it, Daddy?” Ella’s voice wafted into the house.

  Seven braced herself. It was going to be a long day.

  Seven

  Seven had been in the house for fifteen minutes. Susan stood like a sentry by the door and, with one hard look, had made it clear that he wasn’t to pass through. Ben was a patient man, but his tolerance was running out—fast. She got another few seconds, and then he was going to retrieve what was his.

  “Daddy, is Seven okay?” Ella’s voice broke through the fog of anger that had overtaken his good sense. He’d made Daphne go wait in the car. It was too risky to have her out and about with Susan watching every move they made.

  “Yes, baby. I’m sure she’s fine. Seven is very, very good at her job.”

  He spoke for his own benefit as well as his daughter’s. Ella had refused to go back to the vehicle.

  “Susan.”

  His neighbor tapped her foot on the porch, glancing occasionally over her shoulder. “Yes, Ben?”

  Her smile looked vicious. He’d never liked the woman, who had been his least favorite of his wife’s friends, but today he wished he could throw her off a cliff.

  “What’s going on inside? Perhaps I could assist Seven?” Perhaps I could commit homicide and hide the body where no one would ever find it.

  “I don’t know how you could help her. Unless you can do the freakish things that she does?”

  Susan stepped forward, her bare feet really grossing him out. He didn’t usually notice other people’s feet, but in her case, they were veiny and old-looking. Susan was in her mid-thirties, but her feet—they looked ancient.

  “Can you, Ben? Can you make your eyes turn black, like the thing inside the house, and see things that are ungodly?”

  Anger surged through his veins and, before he could help himself, he’d fisted his hands. “Ella, go get in the car with Daphne. Lock the doors and don’t open them for anyone but me. Understand?”

  Ella’s only response was to rush toward the car. He stared up at Susan. At first she made no move, but then he watched her swallow, her neck muscles straining over her apparent hidden nervousness. Ben loved external signs of internal conflict. In a courtroom, they were frequently the only small signals of discomfort from the opposing counsel.

  He stomped forward until he stood directly in front of Susan.

  “Move, or I will move you.”

  “Might I remind you, Benedicte Lavelle, that you are standing on my porch, and that I get to decide who does and does not come into my home?”

  He placed his hand on Susan’s arm. “Let me ask you something. Do you think you could get the very busy New Orleans police department down here fast enough to stop me from pushing you to the side and leaving with Seven? Even if you could, I’m friends with most of the guys on the force. If that didn’t work, I don’t think it’s a secret who my brother is.”

  In his whole life, he had never used Gene as a threat before. But the real kicker of the situation was that he meant it. If Susan didn’t get out of his way, or caused him any issue, he would sic the fury of his older brother on her before she could blink.

  She stepped aside. “Well, well, well, Benedicte. I never would have thought you were the kind to have such a sick fascination with one of them.”

  “Yeah, fine.” He moved her aside. “Call me deranged and depraved. I don’t care.”

  Except that just the day before, he would have cared. How was it possible to change so much, so quickly? He shook his head. Right now, he needed to check on Seven, not dwell on some kind of moral change going on inside him.

  Susan had her air conditioning turned all the way up, and his body shook for a second when he stepped through the door. When was the last time he’d been in this house? Come to think of it, he wasn’t certain he’d ever ventured inside. It was more likely he’d politely waved from the driveway when he’d dropped off his wife.

  The walls were dark, and the pictures that seemed to cover every free space were strange, psychedelic-looking. They hurt his eyes, and he forced his gaze from the strange decorations.

  “Seven?” he called out into the house, distressed when she didn’t immediately answer. After a few seconds, he heard a whimper. “Seven?”

  Ben moved in the direction of the small sound. Last night, he’d watched her topple over based on the ghost energy. She could be hurt or nearly dead. Damn Susan and whatever games she was playing. This wasn’t about being prejudiced about the Conditioned. This was something else. She’d been venomous on the porch.r />
  Seven was huddled on the ground in a fetal position.

  “God damn it.” He rushed to her side and scooped her up in his arms. Her whole body shook, and her skin was covered in sweat.

  He pulled her up against him as he ran for the couch. “Seven?” Her eyes were open but black, like they had become the night before when she’d been in her “dark space,” seeing the ghost light.

  Ben shook her. “Seven, can you hear me?”

  “It’s everywhere…” Her voice was barely a whisper, and he suspected she didn’t know she was speaking to him, but rather was just talking aloud. “How can it be?”

  Susan walked slowly into the room. She leaned in the doorway, a gun pointed at his head. Ben had never had a weapon drawn in his direction before. His mouth went dry, but it wasn’t terror that fueled his adrenaline. It was rage.

  “I almost feel sorry for her.” She shook her head. “It’s too bad you insisted on entering the house. She could have died and no one would have known what had happened. A fluke. It happens to them all the time.” She walked closer to Ben, leaning over Seven even as she kept the gun leveled at his head. “They’re such fragile creatures, these devil-ridden abnormalities.”

  Ben laid Seven gently on the ground. In a move that surprised even him, he launched forward, throwing himself on top of Susan. He didn’t care about the gun. He was bigger than she was, and size alone gave him advantage. There was no way in hell he was going to sit still and get shot by a lunatic. As they hit the ground, hard, he heard the air thrust from her lungs. The gun flew across the room.

  “You stupid bitch. I have never laid hands on a woman in my life. But if you don’t stop this, whatever it is that you’ve done, I’ll kill you. Do you understand? I’ll choke the life out of you.”

  Behind him, Seven gasped for air, which only fueled his anger.

  “Make it stop,” he yelled.