Slipping the Past (15 page)

“I can’t lose you again, Jo.” Gabriel collapsed onto his elbows, releasing the pull on her soul. He studied her, touching her lips and face, stroking her cheek. Not another word was exchanged, but they didn’t need to. Jocelyn could see it all in his eyes.

Bang, bang, bang
. They turned toward the door. “Nate.”

Gabriel groaned.

“I don’t think he’ll be happy you’re here.”

“No.” He rolled off.

Bang, bang, bang
. “Open up, Joce. You’ve locked the deadbolt.” The handle turned. “Joce?”

“Coming.”

“Give me another minute and you will again,” Gabriel snickered.

“Be good.” She shook her finger at him. Jocelyn climbed off the bed and pushed Gabriel toward the bathroom. She snatched up her discarded jeans and stepped into them, wiggling them over her hips.

“Yeah, I really like the no underwear idea.” Gabriel smiled, his eyes seeming to smolder in the dim light.

“Hide.” She reached behind her back, under her shirt and fixed her bra. Glancing in a mirror, she finger-combed her sex-mussed hair while he continued to stare. “Don’t stand around and gawk. Get under cover.”

“You forget I can teleport.” Gabriel grabbed her and tugged her into his arms. “I can’t help but stare. You’re so beautiful.” He captured her mouth, making everything else seem insignificant, including her impatient brother at the door.

His hand slid back under her shirt. She pressed her palms against his chest and arched, doing her best to break his hold. He intensified the kiss, stirring the fire inside her.

“Jocelyn pulled her mouth away. She spun out of his arms and called out, “Coming.”

“You say that one more time and I’m gonna make it fact.” Gabriel grabbed her wrist and yanked her back; he pressed the key to his room in her hand, grabbed her by the ass, and lifted her off the floor. “I love you.” He kissed the end of her nose, lowered her, and gave her a slap on the butt.

Jocelyn jumped. “You what?”

“And I’ll see you later.” He disappeared in the time it took her to blink. She stared down at the keychain. He loves me? The woman inside squealed. “
He loves me!
”

“Jocelyn. It’s cold out here.”

She tucked the key away and unlocked the door. Gabriel had been staying in a room across the way all this time. Watching her, protecting her. Chills exploded across her skin.

Nate strolled in. “It’s about time you opened the door.” He dropped a bouquet of flowers on the table and turned to her. “I found these on the deck outside. Know where they came from?”

Jocelyn shook her head. Now was not the time to explain the flowers, the messy bed or…. She glanced down at her shredded panties and stepped over them, working the fabric under her bare feet.

“The lines at the bakery were a mile long. Seems with Thanksgiving coming, everyone wants fresh-baked bread. I’m sorry it took so long. But I did manage to get my hands on some day-old bagels and cream cheese.” He stuffed the bag at her and untucked a cardboard carrier with two drinks and handed it to her also, taking his. “And hot coffee, the way you like it. Cream, no sugar. It’s hard to find good java this time of the night.”

He smiled and walked past her, strolling toward the bathroom. “Got to drain the lizard. Had to go so bad in that line, but I didn’t dare move.” He stopped mid-step, sniffed, and turned around. “Has someone been in here?”

Jocelyn reached into the bag, pulled out a bagel, and stuffed it in her mouth, shaking her head.

“I swear I smell cologne and….”

Jocelyn took a big bite and mumbled “no” through the half-chewed bread. Her face heated. Could he tell what they’d been doing?

“Someone’s been in here.” Nate walked over to her and pointed at her chest. “I recognize that stench. You’ve had that reaper in here?”

Jocelyn swallowed and gave him her best look of innocence. “Reaper?”

“You have. You’ve had that reaper in here. He wants to take your soul and you’re hanging out with him, doing….” Nate glanced at the bed and snarled. He threw his cup of coffee into the wall, splattering the paisley wallpaper. “You’re going to give him a second chance to finish you off.” He strode across the room to the bathroom and slammed the door.

Jocelyn pulled the key from her jeans. “I need to take a walk,” she called out. She glanced down at her feet, snatched up her panties, and stuffed them in her pocket.

“Going to see your boyfriend? Go. It’s your funeral. Get. I’m done helping you if you don’t want the help.”

“Nate. It’s complicated.” Jocelyn walked over and leaned against the bathroom door. She loved Gabriel. She’d only known him a short while, and she loved him like he’d always been there. He always
had
been there. He loved her. He’d always loved her. How could she explain? “Nate?” He was angry, and the best thing to do would be to give him space. Still, Jocelyn felt the need to defend the Enforcer and couldn’t give Nate the last word. “I’m sorry, Nate. Gabriel isn’t what you think he is.”

The door was yanked open. Nate glared out at her. “What? He’s not a reaper now? He doesn’t have a warrant for your arrest and you don’t have four days to prove your innocence for crimes you’re probably guilty of, according to the DSLE database?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then what, Jocelyn? What is he? What happened to ‘I hate the bastard. He took my sight’?” Nate mimicked her in an excessively whiney voice.

“I don’t hate him. I think I love him. I’ve always loved him.”

“I’ll tell you what I think. I think he scrambled your brains when he sucked your energy. You got one great big reaper lobotomy. Love him?” Nate snorted. “I can’t believe you’re even saying that.”

“Yes, and not only in this lifetime. I believe we’ve known each other for centuries. If only I could remember more about my past lives.”

“Gee, do you think it might have something to do with tall-dark-and-scary slurping your soul like a fruit smoothie?”

“God, Nate. You can be such a dick sometimes.”

“Can I? I’m not the one that’s going to take your soul, stuff it in a cell to power a city, and give your body to someone else. I’d say I’m not the one you should be accusing of being a dick.”

“I’m going for a walk.” Jocelyn snagged her jacket and turned her back to Nate. “When I get back and you’ve cooled down, we’ll talk.”

“If I’m still here when you get back. I’m not going to stand around and watch you commit suicide. Think about that when you’re fucking your reaper.” He strolled over to a window and shoved it open. “God, it stinks in here.”

Jocelyn glanced over her shoulder. Her stomach twisted. Nate never spoke to her like that, never yelled or said an angry word. He’d always been her champion, careful not to upset her. “I can’t believe you said that.”

“Hurts, doesn’t it? The truth always hurts, Joce.” Nate slammed the bathroom door and locked it.

Jocelyn stepped outside and pulled her jacket closed. The wind howled like a pack of wolves. It dodged between the buildings, stalking her, making it impossible to avoid the chill. Across the way, a glow peeked from a crack in the curtain in Gabriel’s room. She could no longer sense the energy, but she knew without a doubt he waited for her.

Nate served the truth and it didn’t feel good. It felt horrible. Gabriel was a reaper. Reapers hunted criminals. She was a criminal and she couldn’t change that. But something inside her told her there was more to it. She hadn’t imagined the feelings she had around him, or the need and hunger festering inside her. If only she could remember more. She’d only pieces of a puzzle and the emotions of a love-sick sap.

She turned away from the room that beckoned and started down the street into the dark. She needed to clear her head and think. Around Gabriel, thinking was the last thing she could do. She’d be okay alone for a few moments.

Even without her psychic abilities, she could protect herself. Somewhere, in one of her past lives, she’d learned grappling, hand-to-hand combat with and without knives, and unbelievably, acrobatics.

She never knew she had the ability until a man attacked her in a dark alley while she picked through the rubbish. She’d slammed him to the pavement so fast he hadn’t a chance to grab her with the other hand. When he pulled a knife, she took that, too, and stuck him in the shoulder as a reward for trying. In the process of the attack, she’d done a back flip, dodged the blade, and landed a spinning kick to his jaw.

At the time it had unnerved her, but in the end she’d been glad for the training, thankful for whoever had the insight to think she’d need it. She’d searched her memories of past dreams and visions and still couldn’t connect the one that led to her skills.

A dog started barking in the distance. Jocelyn tightened her grip on her lapels, holding her coat shut at her throat. She started gnawing on the cuff, caught herself, and stopped. In her sleep, she’d managed to mangle the end of one of the sleeves on Gabriel’s coat like a dog’s chew-toy, and awoken to see the damage. Nervous habits were hard to kick, and recently she’d a lot to be nervous about. She didn’t need to trash another jacket.

Her dreams, of late, were too quiet. Gone were the vivid colors of her visions, replaced with dancing pigs and clowns in grays, blacks, and whites. Unrealistic, bizarre, and nothing she’d experienced before. Before, her dreams were real, like a twisted home holo-movie, complete with death and dismemberment. She could almost guarantee she’d see blood when she closed her eyes. The peaceful, quirky dreams she had now, scared her.

She’d take the nightmares any day. At least they were real.

The barking dog began to howl, long and painful cries. Jocelyn stopped and tipped her head to listen. Animals were sensitive to energies. Even someone not attuned to the sound would know something wasn’t right. A charge raced across her skin and she turned to peer into the darkness. A streetlight overhead flickered, and shadows danced across the sidewalk at her feet.

“Hello?” Jocelyn let go of her jacket. Her gaze swept the empty street. The darkness appeared empty. Something told her it wasn’t. Psychic senses or not, someone watched. She shifted her weight to the balls of her feet and braced. Two ways to flee, both into the dark. She could run for the room, but gut instinct said she wouldn’t make it. That something had the hair on the back of her neck standing on end, and that hadn’t happened since she’d last blacked out.

Reaper.

“Who’s out there?” Either she was sensing energy, or she was spooked by the howling dog. Since it took a lot to scare her, Jocelyn bet on the other.

“Jocelyn Miller.” The voice. Deep, familiar, and not Gabriel.

Shit
. That would be the other one. She took two steps back and a gust blasted her from behind, lifting her hair from her shoulders. She whipped around and stared into the dark. Ice pelted her face and stung her cheeks.

She couldn’t see their aura. When he took her energy, Gabriel had rendered her vulnerable to the Enforcers. Gone was her ability to see and sense them coming, an ability she could really use right now.

“Identify yourself.”

Somebody tsked. “And I thought we had something going.”

“Who are you?”

“Don’t you recognize my aura?” A man slid out of the shadows and pulled a staff from behind his back. She knew the face and the brand that scarred the side of his cheek and neck. She didn’t need to see his aura. The wind caught his charcoal hair and whipped the loose strands around his face. He stood there, smoking in his boots. Two words described him: lethal and sex. He was far from ugly, but if a girl played with him, she’d end up dead.

Jocelyn instinctively took a step back. Cloaked head to toe in black, Ian represented evil to its fullest potential, and could make the devil rejoice. “Psycho reaper.”

“Hello, love.” Ian stepped closer and spun his staff. No sparks like before, but she knew they were there. Every time she’d ever seen him, he was awash in angry red. “You’ve been a bad, bad girl, Ms. Miller.”

Gabriel was big and scary enough when he wanted to be. But this reaper, he wasn’t just big, he was a juggernaut. Ian stood at least six-foot-seven, maybe eight, and was nothing but iron-hard muscles and rage. Samoan by ancestry, he had the dusky skin and solid limbs of his people. Jocelyn tried to picture him in a floral lava-lava to settle her nerves. It only made her want to giggle like a lunatic. She took a calming breath.

“Let me guess, you’ve come to punish me for what happened at the hospital,” she said. Every second that ticked by, memories came back.

“I’d like that. You know how I’ve dreamed of spanking your bare ass until it’s red.” He raised a brow and grinned. “And a fine ass it is.” He stepped forward. “But that’s not why I’m here. I wanted to talk.”

“Talk? I have nothing to say to you.”

“Really? You don’t have all kinds of questions bubbling inside you? Like how all the reapers found you at the hospital? What’s wrong with a chat between old friends?” He began to circle like a hyena. Jocelyn turned with him, not giving him her flank or back. “But we don’t have to talk. I’ve found what I was looking for,” he said.

“Me?”

He teleported behind her, brushed her hair aside, and leaned in to whisper into her bared ear. “No, but that will come later. You’re all alone, Jocelyn. Not the smartest move.” He grabbed a strand of her hair and twisted it around his finger, letting it slip across the pad of his finger. Jocelyn’s stomach cramped. “Where’d your backup go? I have a few things I’d like to discuss with him. Namely the stitches in my scalp from the bat he brained me with.” She spun and he teleported out of reach.

“Leave Nate out of this.”

Ian tipped his head back and laughed. “Nate is more involved than you could imagine.” He reached into his jacket, pulled out a cube, and tossed it at her feet. A holographic warrant burst from the device and hung suspended before her. “Got one for your brother, sweetheart. You really didn’t think I’d forget about what he did?”

“He was protecting me. Nothing personal. Take me and leave him alone.” Memories flowed back, rushing through her mind, stealing her breath. Nate held the bat gripped tightly in his hands. The sound of a meaty thud as Ian dropped at her feet.