Vengeance Borne (36 page)

Jacquelyn walked out of Sinkers with some guy trailing behind her like a dog on a leash. Was that Micah? The one Finn had talked about? Well, that son-of-a-bitch wouldn’t be talking to anyone ever again, would he?

She hadn’t noticed him at Sinkers. Why? He’d been getting looks from people all day. Hard not to stare at this point. He looked
great
. Strong, handsome, sure of himself. He demanded respect and attention. And she’d just walked right by like he wasn’t even there. Rage surged within him and he smashed his fist into a nearby streetlight, bending the metal with an imprint of his knuckles. Finn hadn’t stood a chance when he tore into him. Why would she waste her time with these losers when she could have a real man? Someone who’d protect her, love her, lock her away and keep her safe.

So close. He was so close to realizing his dream. There was only one thing left to do. He couldn’t bring her to her new home in its current state. It needed to be scrubbed clean, decorated and made beautiful, with food in the freezer and wood for the stove. Once her home was ready, she’d never have to leave. Everything she could possibly want, he’d make sure she had. He’d keep her there. Forever.

“No killing,” he whispered to his invisible companions as he pulled his truck out onto the road. “Not this time. We need help if we’re going to make our house good enough for her.”

“But after?” their sweet voices pleaded. “After we can kill—you’ll give us what we need after we give you what you want?”

“Of course,” he said. “But after.”

“After,” they agreed in unison.

Chapter 28

“TRISH!” MICAH CALLED as he walked in the front door. Couldn’t read minds…ha! He’d show her who couldn’t read minds. “Hey Trish! You’re never gonna
believe
what I did today. I actually think I might be getting the hang of this empathy thing. Trish?” He stepped into the living room, the hairs standing on the back of his neck. Trish’s house, usually alive with energy, was now silent and consumed with an eerie stillness.

Jacquelyn came in behind him, her Glock drawn and ready. She too must have felt the oddness, the thing Micah just couldn’t put his finger on. Something wasn’t right. She put her finger to her lips, stepping in front of him. He hated that she always took the lead, walking head-on into danger. But she was the Waerd, he was her backup. And he had to get used to her charging ahead.

She whipped around the corner, reminding Micah of one of a hundred cop shows, her arms slightly bent, hands wrapped around the grip of the gun, holding it steady at shoulder level. “Clear,” she called. “But it’s not good.”

Micah walked into the kitchen and froze.
Yep, just like a cop show
. Only this was worse. This was reality. His heart sank to his gut as an intense feeling of dread gripped his heart, turning the blood to ice in his veins. Chairs overturned, broken glass, and a pot left boiling on the stove smoldered down to charring bits of unrecognizable food. Signs of a struggle. “Is she—?”

“No. Not as far as I can tell.” Jacquelyn turned off the stove and put the pot in the sink. “There’s no body, anyway.”

No body. What did that mean,
no body
? Had Jacquelyn implied there was nothing left but bits and pieces? Or worse? God, what could be worse? “How bad is it?”

“Micah,” Jacquelyn said with an icy air of calm. “There’s
no
body. She’s not here.”

“Where the hell is she?”

“How should I know?” The emotional
Numbz-it
he’d given her must’ve begun to wear off. Jacquelyn’s tone escalated from dead calm to mounting panic. Anxiety trickled like cold water from the top of Micah’s head right down to the soles of his shoes, and he knew the emotion wasn’t his. “Someone fucking took her. And I have no idea why.”

“Our Furies wrangler, maybe?”

“It’s the best guess. But what would he want with Trish?”

“Could be a trap.” The situation became more surreal with each step he took deeper into Trish’s wrecked kitchen. Micah expected to start reciting “Dragnet” clichés at any moment. Just the facts, ma’am. “What if our guy is that guy, Jacquelyn? Wes. Maybe he took her as bait.”

“Bait for what?” She gave him a wary look. Wary was good. Better than apathetic.

“For you!” Micah exclaimed. It was his turn to get worked up. “Jesus, weren’t you listening to me in that sub shop? That guy wanted
you
. Bad. Like
I’ve-got-to-have-her-now-tied-up-in-my-basement
, wanted you.”

“Me.” The word hung in the air like a balloon.

“
You
. I think it’s all been about you.”

“No.” Jacquelyn shook her head. “No. I didn’t have anything to do with Willie. Aside from town gossip, I didn’t even know him. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Why not?” This was no time for her to play dense. If Micah could see the dots connecting, surely so could Jacquelyn. “Willie might’ve been a warm-up. A test. A random victim to see if he could actually go through with it. But Bree…” He held up one finger. “Finn.” He put up another. “You had close ties to both of them.”

“No.”

“Jacquelyn.” He grabbed her by the shoulders, giving her a good shake. “Snap out of it. This is about you.
You
, okay? Just get over it. Trish is gone and if you were in your right mind right now you’d already be in your car, going after the fucker that took her. We have a lead, this Wes. He’s got to be our guy. Let’s go.”

“But—”

“No buts. Let’s go.”

Jacquelyn stared at him for a moment, her eyes wide and disbelieving. That same glazed-over look stole every ounce of emotion from her face, making her a shell of her former self. Micah couldn’t do this alone. He wouldn’t. He needed her.

Without Trish to offer guidance, he had to guess. But if he could suck up her emotions like a sponge, it served to assume that he could wring them out as well. “Sorry, Jacquelyn, but you kicked my ass the other night when all I wanted was to be numb and forget. You said you needed me one-hundred percent. And I need you now. Five by five, no less. Hate me if you want, but this vapid bullshit is over.”

Just as he had when he’d stolen her pain, he pressed his lips gently to her forehead. Micah closed his eyes and focused on what he’d felt when he’d taken her anguish and sorrow, sending it outward and back to her. Her knees buckled, and he caught her before they gave out completely. He waited for the sound of her tears, for the wracking sobs that would inevitably echo in her chest. But none came. She bowed her head, the harsh sound of her heavy breath filling his ears. A whimper escaped her lips, a less intense reaction than he expected, but she swallowed it down, clearing her throat to cover it up. Micah perceived the barest increase of her pulse where her heart rested against his chest, like she’d been thrown into gear after idling for too long. Her spine straightened and she pulled away.

“I don’t hate you,” she said.

His anxiety was quickly replaced by relief. Of course, she hurt. But at least her head would be clear and her heart in the right place. He wanted her fired up and mad as hell. A hunter ready to fight. It was the only way if they had any hope of getting Trish back.

“Jacquelyn, we need to find Trish. If Wes took her, who knows how long we have? We can’t let him have her.”

She steadied herself and pulled away, brushing his arms from her shoulders. Holstering the Glock, she took a last apprising glance around the kitchen. “Everyone else was attacked on the spot. Willie’s wife said he’d been out on a bender, so whoever killed him probably followed him out into the woods. Bree was waiting for Finn to come for dinner, and Finn had gone home after…” Her voice trailed off and she took a steadying breath. “They were all ambushed and killed where he found them. But not Trish. If he wanted her dead, the Furies would have killed her right here in her own kitchen. They’re not real big on patience. She’s alive. He could be using her for bait, or Trish might be giving those bitches a run for their money. Either way, we’re going to get to her before they have a chance to lay a finger on her.”

“Great.” Finally, the real Jacquelyn. Not the emotionless, directionless shade that had been walking around in her place. Hope sprung, renewing Micah for the first time all day. “You’re the Waerd,” he said, motioning her ahead of him. “Where do we start?”

She charged for the door, her attention clearly centered. “Back to town. We’ll start at the fire station, see if Wes is there. If we can get him cornered, you’ll be able to gauge if he’s got Trish.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Then we’re fucked.”

“Shut up!” he shouted, throwing a plate against the wall. It shattered into a hundred pieces, adding to the mess that would have to be picked up before he brought her home.

“Please.” The sharp tone of their begging voices grated on his ears. “Let us have the old woman now. There’s no point in waiting. She knows us. She’s not like the other humans. Dangerous. Kill, kill, kill!”

“She doesn’t know you. And you can’t have her. Not yet. She’s here to do a job and we need her help. Jacquelyn will be upset at first and she loves that damned old woman. Finn said so.”

The smell of fear drifted to his nostrils, and he whipped around, pointing an accusing finger at his captive. “Don’t make them angry! I told you, clean this house, get it ready for her, and make her feel better when she gets here. That’s
all
I want you to do. Don’t talk to them. Don’t look for them. They. Belong. To. Me.”

“You know Finn?” The biddy just wouldn’t let it go. She pressed him, eager to make the connection. “You’re friends, perhaps?”

“I
knew
him,” he stressed. “You don’t need to know how.”

“You look familiar. What’s your name, boy?”

He rushed to where she sat in the corner and gathered up the strands of her gray hair. Jerking her head back he twisted her face, forcing her to look at him. “Don’t call me that. I’m no one’s
boy
. I’m a man. I take care of myself. And I’m going to take care of
her
!”

“You’re a silly, foolish creature if you think Jacquelyn will sit by and let you take her. You don’t have a clue who or what she is.”

He released his grip on her hair and rubbed his temples in an attempt to banish the throbbing pain. She was trying to confuse him on purpose, talking in circles, steering the conversation in the direction she wanted it to go. Damn her. Couldn’t she just shut her mouth before he was forced to shut it for her?

Blood trickled from her lip where he’d hit her a little too hard. It wasn’t his fault, she made him. Gave him no other choice. He asked her not to fight him, but she’d been so stubborn. “You can’t do your job if you’re too beat up to stand. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will. They’ve made me stronger, I could kill you on accident and that would make Jacquelyn sad. Just cooperate and I’ll make sure they leave you alone.”

“Wouldn’t you like
them
to leave you alone?” She sat up a little straighter, supporting her right shoulder with her left hand. “They’ll ruin you if you don’t get rid of them. Now.”

Maybe he shouldn’t have jerked her arm so hard. He may have dislocated her shoulder. And Jacquelyn wouldn’t be happy if he hurt the old woman. He wanted her happy so she’d never want to leave. “Do you want me to look at your shoulder?” He hoped he sounded helpful. “I’ve had EMT training. It might need tending.”

“No, thank you very much,” Trish said, her brow furrowing. “I’ve had enough of your gentle care. Just keep your distance, and I’ll be fine.”

Why was she so damned bullheaded? He took a step forward, the urge to wrap his fingers around her thin and withered neck almost too much to bear. With just the sparest amount of pressure, he could squeeze the life right out of her. It wouldn’t take much to teach her a lesson, to make her realize that he was more than some random bumbling kid. He’d become theirs as much as they’d become his. And they had made him a god.

His thoughts shifted as soon as his foot hit the floor. No. This wasn’t about the old woman or
them
. This was about Jacquelyn. And he didn’t want to cause her pain.

“You see?” his invisible companions hissed near his ear. “She’s not going to help you. She wants to stop you. She’s a witch, our lover. An evil witch and she’ll use her witchcraft against you. She’ll hurt us if you let her. Please, let us have her!” Their keening cries stabbed at his ears. “Please! Please! Please!”

“Stop it!” His arms flailed in the air as if to push them away. “I’m in charge here, not you! You told me I could have whatever I wanted and, for right now, I want her. Leave me alone or I’ll send you away.”

A deep, cackling sound shook the walls, rattling the dishes in the cupboards. A warm breath of air caressed his body, followed by an icy shock. They’d left, but not for long. They were never gone from his side for more than an hour or so. And maybe in their absence he could get the old lady to do some work.

He approached her cautiously, holding his temper in check. It was so quick to surface lately, like a shot from a pistol. Crouching beside her, he laid a consoling hand on her good arm and she flinched away.