Justice Incarnate (8 page)

That life had ended slowly, in prison, making it impossible to help anyone else. Jaden gazed at the diary. It couldn't be useless. She'd studied legends of various weapons. She'd examined in depth the myths of good versus evil. The key was somewhere in the past.

Before she could wonder what would happen if she simply gave in and gave up on exposing the Judge for the devil he was, the screaming started. Terror and confusion coursed through her veins followed by the unthinkable.

Her cozy hideaway vanished, her vision compromised by the current victim. She didn't waste time wondering what was happening; she simply took the new gift and tried to determine where the Judge had taken the helpless girl.

The steel construction of the large room showed when the girl looked around wildly. She tensed, with the girl, when heavy hands squeezed budding breasts. She jumped, as the girl did, when a door flew open. And though tears blurred the view, Jaden could see it was Billy, Brenda's ex, coming toward Albertson.

The girl lurched as the Judge shoved her at Billy. "Take her to holding. I'll catch up."

Jaden's vision was restored when the contact broke.

He'd already seen to Billy's release. Or escape. No difference. With renewed fervor, she studied the diary. This monster had to be stopped. And all his minions with him.

In her flurry of determination, Jaden blocked out everything but the words she'd penned so long ago. And there it became crystal clear. Thomas, as he was known now, as he'd been known to her at the first. Thomas must side with her, must understand the true nature of the Judge. He must accept her word as fact, despite the lack of evidence. How had she missed this simple fact in all the other attempts?

"Stupid," she scolded herself. "Impossible. Bizarre." She pushed the diary away, rejecting the concept. It slid off her desk to land on the floor. Regretting her temper, she picked it up, only to find the fabric covering torn loose from the back and several smaller pages peeking out.

One fact was clear immediately: the writing was not hers.

Jaden willed her hands to stop shaking as she gingerly extracted the papers from their hiding place. Her skin chilled as she read each page.

They came to me, each of them with their stories so like yours. My darling, what have I done? I was a coward not to see. I am unworthy of your faith in me.

I shall work tirelessly for your release as I continue your efforts on behalf of the unfortunate.

He is too strong, too well guarded. Every path I take leads to another, lesser man, merely taking orders.

The pages went on like this. Similar notes of efforts failed and victories nearly too small to mention. And on the last page Jaden read:

Word reached me today of your death. I have failed you in life, but my insistence has at last earned your peaceful rest with your parents. My love for you endures. I pray your forgiveness and that our souls may one day unite as our bodies were denied.

Jaden looked to the ceiling and pleaded with celestial powers she'd never understand and didn't want to. "Why him? It's impossible. He's impossible!" She let the shout build and released her frustration with it.

Spent, she fisted her hands in her hair. "Why not a gun or special sword buried in a rock? Why not a simple silver bullet?"

An explosion rocked the warehouse above, sending an avalanche down on her. Not the answer she wanted.

Jaden blinked gritty eyes and listened to a strange whimpering sound. Her attempt to move resulted in a gasp of pain and she understood the whimpers weren't from another victim, but from her own bruised lips.

Pain radiated from her head to her toes, but she counted her blessings that she could feel both and all the parts in between. It took what she assumed to be several minutes to recall where she was. The death-lock of her fingers around a small book clarified the situation.

Siren sounds faded in and out and she knew she had to get to safety. The defenses she'd installed on her building would soon kick in.

The acrid smell of burning wood and melting steel stung her eyes, but she stuffed the few things worth saving into a backpack. Voices above made her pause at the stairwell. Not up to a fight, she waited until they faded.

Alone again, she snuck out of the burning building, not indulging in regret.

"I've got you." Thomas's hands landed on her and she felt better instantly. Of course better was a relative term.

She elbowed him and made a dash for the alley. Except the dash felt more like a stumble and bruised her pride.

"What's the rush?"

It would take a supreme physical effort to drag him out of harm's way. "Too close," she rasped through seared lungs.

"The fire crew's on it. What happened?"

"He tried to kill me." On sheer will she moved away from the building, refusing to look back. If he was too stupid to follow, oh, well.

"Judge A didn't do this."

Jaden decided she'd never be desperate enough to ask for help from this man who consistently failed her. "Of course not." She allowed him the superior smirk and struggled forward; shamelessly relieved she wasn't hauling him too. "He hired it done and we both know it."

"We don't both know it."

"I'm done arguing with you." Her temper surged past reason. "Judge A is a demon, sent to create as much hell and havoc as possible before I kill him. It's the same every damn time." She shoved away from him, and cursed her waning strength. She resisted Brian's efforts to help or hinder, she didn't know his intent, just that his hands kept seeking her body.

"Back up the bus, gorgeous."

She was about to tell him where to shove his outdated euphemisms when the rumbling tipped her off. "Oh, shit." She grabbed at him and his surprise allowed her to push him down and away from the debris field about to rain on them.

"What the–" was all he got out before he lost his breath when she landed on him.

The windows of her warehouse blew out as the rest of the building neatly folded in on itself, sending a spike of fire heavenward. Dust and bits of her life covered them in a fine powder.

"Bastard," she shouted at the smoldering remains.

"Call me Brian," Thomas muttered beneath her.

"Not you. You're conscious?"

"You could sound happier about it."

Jaden shook her head. Then she laughed. "He doesn't know he missed me. I can be happy with that."

She stood, again refreshed from the contact with Thomas, and tried to resume her escape from the alley, the police and the evidence crews due to arrive any second.

"You need my help," he said, following her.

"From what little you know it might look that way. But I'm okay alone. Really."

"What I know might surprise you..."

Jaden knew he was still talking. His lips would hardly be moving otherwise. But she couldn't hear his words over the screams in her head. This chick has a set of pipes. She refused to let her knees buckle until she was out of the alley and into the dim light of the pathway.

On trembling legs, she kept moving. Or tried to. But her vision was marred by the wild gaze of the terrified girl. She could well relate to the feeling of Albertson's approach. Too easily, she understood the gut-loosening intimidation caused by the soft-spoken delivery of evil words.

With one hand on the nearest wall, Jaden forced herself to move forward, while focusing on the girl's surroundings.

She seized on the few details available. A pattern of long, rectangular windows in groups of three. Light poured through them, telling Jaden more than it told the victim. Albertson staged his vile games on a set as false as he was.

If this girl survived, and held the courage to tell, she'd say her assault took place during daylight hours when the Judge would be safely behind his bench. Her story discredited, he'd remain above suspicion and she'd get a month of injections.

"Bastard," she said aloud.

Thomas gave her a hard shake. "An evidence van just turned the corner. Let's go give your statement."

Though still seeing with the girl's eyes, the poor creature had lapsed into a shocked silence, which allowed Jaden to hear again. "Can't," she said on a ragged breath. "I'm not serving thirty days anywhere but home."

"Home's gone."

"Right. Well, bye." She began to formulate an alternate plan. "See ya around."

She felt him hesitate, then go. She walked a bit further, until she felt the corner of the rusty dumpster. Slumping into what she hoped looked like a pitiful ball of homelessness, she waited for the excitement to pass.

When running feet skidded to a stop beside her she played the part as best she could. Soon, though, she felt Thomas's touch.

"Call me Brian and I'll get you outta here."

"Okay, Brian." She reached out. "But why help me now?"

"Later. Tell me what's wrong," he ordered.

"I'm sorta blind at the moment."

"The explosion?"

It was a convenient excuse. "Sure. Did anyone see you?"

"Counting you?" he teased, easing her arm over his shoulders. With his free hand around her waist he snugged her close.

It troubled her to enjoy it so much. But it restored her vision and her energy level soared. She felt alive, awakened, as if she could conquer anything.

"My statement would've been worthless."

"Yup," he agreed. "Nothing to say. The place just blew."

"Gas lines suck," she snickered.

"And it's an old place."

Appalled at the easy camaraderie, Jaden snapped back to business. "Why did you come back?"

"That whole protect and serve thing. Once you're safe I'll go back–"

His radio card crackled with news of an officer shot while responding to a murder-suicide scene across town. The address was Brenda's.

She stopped walking and pulled away from him. "You came back." She tapped the pocket holding the radio card. "Because of this." The answer was clear enough in his eyes. And the solution crystallized in her mind.

"Did anyone see you?" she demanded.

"No."

"Good." She yanked the stressed cow-safe fake leather jacket from his body and pulled his badge from the waistband of his jeans. She drew the dagger and nicked his hand before he could protest, smearing blood on his badge. Next, she sliced out a strip of the jacket's lining, handing it to him for a bandage. Digging in her backpack for a lighter, she set the jacket on fire.

"What the hell? Stop that!" He stomped out the flames and then tried to reclaim his property.

But she was focused and quicker now. "Stay here." She snuck closer to the demolished warehouse and tossed in the evidence of his 'death'.

"My condolences," she said, returning.

"You're outta control, Michaels."

"Since we're both dead now, Brian, call me Jaden."

"Neither of us is dead," he pointed out with a surly tone.

"Think what you can learn if we play it that way."

"You're crazed. You need to be in a hospital."

"I've heard that one before." Though never from him. She sniffed at the insult. "Look at it as undercover work. If I'm an insane stalker with a grudge against your buddy, you'll have all the access and evidence you need. It won't go to court and you can resume your life a hero among saints." Just like every other time.

He stared, studied really, his gray eyes weighing all the possibilities. "What's the plan?"

"Develop our ghostly skills, I guess." She tried to smile, but it troubled her that the Judge knew so much. If he'd found this place, he'd soon find her alternate hideout. Resigned, she turned away toward the next best thing to home.

Slick Micky's.

There she could trade her teaching skills for a few key favors and get on with the research to complete her mission to destroy Albertson.

Chapter Five

Time Stamp: 1066

From the shadows of the balcony I watched him training. He moved with grace and speed and my heart broke for all that I'd been denied. My family could take no action against the baron and my betrothed could not accept another man's seed swelling my stomach.

At the sound of scrabbling on the stones, I turned my head.

"A thousand pardons," the girl rasped as she tried to scurry away.

She stumbled over her gown and I rushed to her aid. I barely recognized the swollen face of the nurse's young daughter. "Who did this?" I demanded. Though she refused to answer, I saw the mark and knew the baron was to blame.

With God as my witness, I vowed to set this wicked world to rights.

Chicago: 2096

"You're new," said the guard at the door.

Jaden shrugged. "He'll wanna see me."

The guard harrumphed and eyed Brian. "Not him. No way."

"Him who?" Jaden asked. "He's dead."