Flame Unleashed (Hell to Pay) (6 page)

“You mean?”

“Yes. Forever. With that thing.”

“Unacceptable. Even more reason to get rid of him.”

She slapped a palm on the tabletop, surprising even herself. “Stop. Stop it! I would rather attempt to escape Jerahmeel’s clutches by getting the Meaningful Kill than try a ridiculous scheme with a high probability of failure and worse.”

Barnaby bowed his head into his hand, then squinted at Odie. “This plan of yours is but a dream, my boy. Let it go. Other Indebted have reached similar conclusions. What you don’t know is that they have tried and failed. When they failed, they lost whatever free will and happiness was left to them. Their eternal torment made this standard Indebted existence look like an island vacation. Your solution is impossible. The consequences of failure are worse than deadly. I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

Odie slumped in the chair, the very picture of defeat. If it weren’t for the glint remaining in his eyes, Ruth might have bought the act.

A lock of wavy hair the color of black coffee fell forward over his brow. She fought the urge to smooth that hair back. How would his skin feel beneath her fingers? And how could she think about his hair during a conversation like this?

After 150 years of self-induced celibacy, her hormones had gone off kilter. Maybe it was because he was Indebted. Or maybe the part of her that craved intimacy had been hidden for too long. Whatever had her attention, she didn’t need the distraction right now.

He took another bite of sausage and eggs, and damn it if Ruth couldn’t stop staring at the oil shining on his lower lip. So much for self-control.

Odie dabbed at his mouth with the napkin. “Well, maybe later down the road then? Forgive me for mentioning anything and spoiling your meal. Let’s enjoy the day.” Although his words conveyed concession, his passion to destroy Jerahmeel spoke otherwise. He fairly vibrated with barely contained, righteous indignation, even now.

She wouldn’t bring up his plans again. No need to add more fuel to the fire of Odie’s interest. Or Jerahmeel’s.

Odie sipped the coffee as they finished their brunch. What small appetite she typically possessed had left her, and she pushed the food around on her plate as she glanced at the man sitting across from her.

For his part, Odie chatted with Barnaby about events from hundreds of years ago and their adventures together. Light, harmless conversation. As if the topic of the ultimate destruction of evil in this world had never arisen.

So why did guilt crawl up her neck?

Because she wanted the safe option. She wanted to try to get the Meaningful Kill herself and be done with her personal hell, once and for all. To consider Odie’s plan risked too much. Besides, Barnaby made it obvious that such a plan had failed in the past. Surely, it would be foolish to try again.

Guilt prickled her skin again. What about all the other Indebted? All of the mortal victims?

Damn her compassion.

Okay, fine. Perhaps Jerahmeel could be defeated, but she wasn’t the person to do it. All she wanted these days was to avoid Jerahmeel’s unnatural attention—do her job and get on with life.

What life?

What would she do when Barnaby was gone? What purpose did she have? Could she simply get another job? Helping another ... what? Human? Indebted?

No former Indebted was elderly at this time. Any other ex-Indebted had departed this Earth centuries ago.

Assisting mortals no longer piqued her interest as it had for the past century.

Maybe some kind of mission work? She could hunt evil mortals while helping innocents. The very definition of conflict of interest.

She shook her head. When she tried to visualize her future, only a black hole appeared. The bottomless pit of her life, sucking scant hope into an abyss.

“What about a tour of New Orleans?” Odie startled her out of her dark thoughts.

“Pardon?” she asked.

“May I take you and Barnaby on a tour of New Orleans? Complete with cultural activities and fantastic food?”

“That sounds lovely, old friend. I’ll be ready in a moment.” Barnaby pushed back and shuffled back to his bedroom.

Odie stood as well.

Ruth walked to the window. Citizens strolled in T-shirts and pants. Maybe she should make Barnaby put on a sweater. He got chilled so easily these days. Damn it. Her boss was aging in front of her, and there was nothing she could do about it.

“What about you,
chère
?” Odie had caught her staring toward Barnaby’s room.

Oh, how her bones melted when he used that word.
Chère
. No one had ever called her that, and the way he said it both soothed and riled her nerves, like fingers trailed down her spine. Too bad they had no future.

Too bad she didn’t trust that lopsided grin. Or any man’s smile, for that matter.

She’d had a partner, 150 years ago. He had used her and then discarded her, ripping away her children in the aftermath. She never saw her beautiful son and daughter again. That disaster had turned her into the Indebted killer she was today. Since then, she’d avoided any emotional entanglements, and today was no time to break that rule.

“My apologies, but no, I will decline.” Moving back to the table, she gripped the back of a chair.

“Why?”

“Well, someone took my kill, so I need to prepare for this evening ...”

“But it’s daylight, so you have plenty of time.”

His quick grin managed to be both chagrined and sexy at the same time, and something fluttered deep in her stomach. An emotion she had never experienced before. Something restless, like a bird on the verge of taking flight.

Her love for her husband had been simple, affectionate, but unrequited, and ultimately used against her.

But being around Odie felt like she’d punched her ticket on a grand adventure and was about to depart. Soaring hope and fear. She wanted more of that sensation, and at the same time, she wanted
none
of that feeling.

“Thank you. No.” Hopefully, he would get the hint.

“My humble apologies for disrupting your work last night,
madame
.”

“You didn’t know.” She tried to paste a kind smile on her face and hoped she succeeded. “It’s not every day you find a damsel in distress who gets mad at you for gutting her murder victim.”

“You’re correct. It’s not every day such an opportunity as this one presents itself.”

Shivering beneath his ice-green gaze, she tried not to climb over the table to fix that errant curl of hair that brushed across his forehead. Never in her prolonged life had she felt that compulsion, and she laced her fingers together to hide the sudden shaking. Blinking to focus on anything but the man sitting across from her, she spun around to leave the room.

He mirrored her movement with two quick strides around the table, and then stopped, a heartbeat away. When he stood right in front of her, all she saw was his sensual lips, surrounded by the close-trimmed beard and moustache. What would those whiskers feel like on her mouth, her neck, her ...

She studied his dark, wavy hair, worn long enough to tempt a woman to run her fingers through it. What intrigued her even more was how the fabric of his untucked denim shirt fabric strained against those broad shoulders. How his thick thigh muscles flexed beneath the dark indigo jeans as he shifted his weight from one black-booted foot to another. She couldn’t stop staring.

“
Magnifique
.” Less a word, than a caress, coming from his lips.

Her breath caught in her throat as the heat from his large frame washed over her in waves, like her skin had become hypersensitive to the temperature changes coming from him.

It only took an instant to bridge the space between them. When Odie leaned in and brushed his lips over hers, the smell of spicy Andouille and his cologne surrounded her, sending delicious coils of pleasure deep into her belly.

As he pulled back, an emotion, like laughter and panic, cracked open inside of her.

Rigid control shattered.

Ruth surged forward, pressing her lips to his, heat against heat.

Odie’s big hand snaked around her neck, pulling her even closer as she reveled in how his strong mouth slanted over hers, each angle sparking delicious quivers through her limbs.

He braced his legs apart and leaned into her, nudging her lips open with his. The hardness at his groin had her breathing faster. Or was it him?

Ruth slid her hands around to the corded lines of his back and squeezed. The groan in the back of his throat vibrated through her torso until her nipples tightened in response.

His scratchy beard sent lightning bolts of desire into her gut. The sensation swirled and grew until she wanted those lips and that deliciously rough beard on the rest of her body. Immediately.

As if he knew her thoughts, he parted her lips further, and she opened for him, savoring the sensation of his hot tongue on the inside of her mouth. Their tongues tangled in an eddy of torrid passion. The touch of his hand on the back of her neck, the caress of his fingers over her cheek, transported her. For this small space in time, his kisses took her away from this life as an on-demand killer. And for this small space in time, she no longer felt the distance of being hundreds of years removed from her beloved children and from her husband’s still-raw betrayal. She could happily exist here, safe in this sexy man’s arms.

No, this Indebted man’s arms.

Unhuman. Just like her.

Indebted. With a harebrained plan to try to destroy Jerahmeel.

If he could only charm someone into helping with the plan.

Someone like her.

Bait.

Holy hell, how could she be so naive?

Had it truly been so long since she enjoyed a man’s touch that she succumbed the moment Odie showed any interest in her? For a second there, she would have done anything he asked. Putty in his hands. He was much too dangerous and much too enthralling.

A man had used her years before.

Fool me twice.

Right now would be a perfect opportunity to use her secret gift. Unfortunately, after she’d used her power on her husband 150 years ago, she now tried to tiptoe the fine line between verification of crimes and avoidance of psychic invasion for her own personal gains. Tempting as it might be to confirm Odie’s intentions, her principles held fast. She’d have to do this the old-fashioned way.

She placed her palms on his muscled chest, waves of heat searing her hands. When she shoved against him, his hands gripped her neck and back, keeping her close.

“Odie.”

He trailed his hand over the sensitive skin at the nape of her neck, and Ruth shuddered.

“Odie, stop.”

She dipped her head, turning away from another kiss. Unfortunately, all this did was encourage him to brush his lips over her neck and jaw, each touch swirling exquisite sensations down her spine. He nipped at the sensitive lobe of her ear, eliciting tiny waves of happiness. His scent of warm, spicy man nearly undid her resolve.

“Enough. I get it.”

“
Pardonnez
?”

His eyes had turned the typical jet black of an Indebted with heightened emotion.

So what if he felt something? She refused to be seduced into participating in his risky plans.

Pushing harder, she stepped away, and his arms dropped to his sides, pulling the fabric tight as his chest heaved. He blinked several times, and his iris color changed from endless night to luminous green again.

His brow furrowed. “Did I do something wrong,
chère
?”

“I might be an easy mark, but you won’t lure me into your scheme with this ... coercion.”

“What?”

As he held his hands up, Ruth backed up, bumping into the chair. She grasped the back for support, waving off the hand he offered.

“I understand your motives, sir.”

“What?”

“Don’t play me the fool.”

“But I didn’t—”

She wanted to believe the lost, wounded expression on his tanned face, where lines of concern wrinkled his forehead. Almost gave in again. Almost believed that a sexy rogue might have wanted her without strings attached. If she had lived any different life, she might have fallen for it. But not in this life and not today. She would never trust a handsome man again.

“You’ll have to seduce someone else into helping you.” She brushed a fingertip over her lips before the action registered, cursing herself as his hungry stare locked on to her mouth. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to attend to my work.”

Now that she had succeeded in breaking his spell, however, the hated knife began to throb, clouding her mind. Every thought focused on obtaining her next kill. When would this sick insanity stop?

“
Madame
, I didn’t mean to imply that—”

With a sharp movement of her hand, she cut him off and dropped back into ingrained society manners, erecting an instinctive barrier, as she had done for years, even while her world crumbled all around.

“Why don’t you wait in the sitting room for Barnaby? He’ll be ready soon for his tour. Please enjoy yourself today, and keep him safe. If he has any fatigue or problems, would you bring him back immediately?”

“Of course, but—”

“Thank you, sir. It was a pleasure to meet you, and I wish you every success in the future.”

For a moment, he simply stood there, mouth open and eyebrows raised. Then his features turned dark and hard, making him appear larger and more dangerous. He inhaled and then snapped his jaw shut, pressing his lips into a harsh line. Turning on a heel, he stormed out of the dining room.

Damn if she didn’t study how his thigh muscles bunched under the blue jeans, and damn if the air didn’t cool twenty degrees as he departed. She had gotten her senses all addled by this man with a plan. A plan that would never include her.

That evening, she asked the concierge at the hotel’s front desk about which section of town to avoid. Then she went directly to that area: Central City.

Amazing how New Orleans changed only a mile or so south and west of the French Quarter. No tourists here, just pockets of old homes interspersed with blighted, run-down buildings. Poverty and sadness permeated the air and pressed down on her shoulders, sapping energy and hope. Flickers of movements in the boarded up homes hinted at squatters living there. Ruth had already seen drug deals in the dark side streets this evening.