Worth Dying for (A Dying for a Living Novel Book 5) (5 page)

Rachel

T
he first man places a hand on Gideon’s elbow and turns him around.

“Hey!” Gideon speaks in perfect American English. His British accent drops away without a trace and he adopts a half dumb, half bewildered look. His posture slumps, his lips pouting out in petulance. “What the hell, man?”

The transformation is shocking, but not unexpected. I’ve seen Gideon act before. He’s quite the chameleon which is probably why he’s still alive.

The train car pulls away taking most of the commuters with it. Gideon and I are overlooked by the others rushing up the stairs toward the exit, briefcases swinging at their sides, patent leather shoes unscuffed. A woman with long beautiful legs marches past us wearing leopard print heels.

I tug on Gideon’s arm. “Let’s go shopping.”

“Now?” Gideon’s face pinches.

One of the suits snorts.

“Do you think we can find them in Midtown?” Fresh air swoops down from the street above, blowing the hair back off my face.

“Not today,” the suit clutching Gideon says. “You’re coming with us.”

This gets my attention. “No.”

“This isn’t a negotiation,” the man says.

“Okay.” I twitch my left hand and Gideon’s elbow is yanked free. Then I shove both of my hands out in front of me like a push. The three men sail back away from us. They fall into the chasm between the parallel platforms. Someone’s skull connects with the tracks in a sickening
crack
. Another wails as if he’s busted several bones on the rails. I hope so.

Gideon balks at me.

“What?” I throw up my hands. “They said it wasn’t a negotiation!”

“Excellent acting,” Gideon says, relief washing over his features. “When confronted with authorities like that, feigning indifference and boredom is an excellent approach.”

“I wasn’t acting. I
want
to go shopping.”

“Of course you do,” he says with a disappointed sigh. “You’re easily distracted today.”

The insult stings. “And you’re disappointing! I thought you were going to pull something exciting out of your pocket.”

He opens his palm to reveal a lock pick, presumably for the cuffs we would’ve worn had I not taken care of business. “You were going to let them
take
you?”

Gideon places a hand on his hip. “You used to love my ideas. Is our relationship getting stale?”

“Ask me again…after you buy me something pretty.”

“You know it isn’t very feminist, allowing a man to buy you everything.”

“I want to walk into the store, murder all the associates and simply take what I want. But since you disapprove of that, you can
buy
them. It’s a perfect compromise and very feminist—men and women working together as equals to achieve a goal.”

“I don’t think—” he begins, but stops at the sound of heels pounding the steps. Police descend the stairs, their badges catching the winter light. Their walkie-talkies buzz on their shoulders. I throw my hands up again and shove the air away from me. The officers fall back, toppling like a wall. Several cry out as their elbows and tailbones connect with the steps.

“Stop that!” Gideon grabs my hands, cupping them together. Without letting go of me, he looks around the subway tunnel before catching sight of a promising door beside a turnstile exit at the end. He yanks me forward. “Run.”

Jesse

G
abriel. His black wings are draped over each shoulder like a fashion statement, looking as proud and petulant as any runway model. His green feline eyes regard me with a certain irritation. If he was a cat, I’m certain his ears would be laid back, ever so slightly.

“Oh god, he has us again.” I push myself up on my elbows and notice that the ache in my chest is gone. “Caldwell took Maisie. Killed Ally. I fucking died and—”

“You did not die.” Gabriel uncrosses his ankles and crosses the room. “You passed out while your heart healed.”

I take a minute to process this. I didn’t die? I was shot in the heart at least once, but I didn’t die? Wow. Jason’s healing powers are more awesome than I thought. No, not Jason’s powers. Jason’s gift. The power I took that allows me to heal any wound instantly. Unless of course that wound is fatal. Apparently, I can’t heal a wounded heart in a heartbeat. Heh. It’s a useful thing to know. If I’m in a situation where I don’t want to black out, I probably shouldn’t get seriously wounded.

“Ally?”

It’s as if saying her name has made her magically appear. Still wearing her red, fur-lined coat, Ally bursts into the room, taking my cheeks in her hands. Her fingers are freezing and make the hair on the back of my neck rise.

“Oh thank god. That was even quicker than I hoped.”

She plants kisses on my ear, neck and cheek. She finishes by brushing her lips against mine. I wrap my arms around her.

“How long was I out?” I squeeze her hard until she lets out an audible gasp. “Sorry.”

“About ten minutes?” Ally pulls back, taking a breath. “I can’t be sure. We’ve only been here for about five minutes, and the ride was a few minutes.”

“Where is
here
?” My eyes take in the bland room. The walls are the color of oatmeal and the carpet a soft rose. It looks like a break room. There’s a mini-fridge, a navy blue leather sofa on which I’ve just taken my power nap, and an unimpressive side table with a fake plant on it.

As my eyes return to their original corner where I first regarded Gabriel, the angel flickers and fades.

“Jeremiah’s New York station.”

“So another big commercial building in another big city. Original. That guy should really diversify his investments. Where’re Maisie and Winston?”

“Upstairs. Did you say you saw Caldwell?”

“He was there. I thought he was the one taking us.”

“We didn’t see him,” a cold voice says from the doorway. Nikki leans against the door frame, decked out head to toe in her body armor. She looks like a comic book hero with overly defined muscles and a gun on each hip. She isn’t as bulky as the body armor makes her look, thank god. Her blond ponytail is sleek and pulled up high.

“Why are you leaning in the doorway?” I ask. “All that armor too heavy for you?” Is it too much to hope Nikki was shot? Possibly wounded?

Ally sighs.

“I liked the purple streak better than this orange one,” I say, talking about a strip of dyed hair curling behind Nikki’s right ear.

Ally’s face scrunches with anger. “Don’t be rude. They saved us back there.”

“Stalked us, you mean. How did you know where we were?”

“I could find you in a bar full of Jesse Sullivan lookalikes all wearing sombreros and eye patches. You’re far from subtle.”

“I’m pretty sure what you said is racist and misrepresents Mexican culture. I’m telling Rachel.”

Nikki’s mouth falls open.

“Stop it.” Ally rubs the center of her forehead with two fingers. “I don’t care if she was following us. I’m glad she showed up. After you went and killed eight people, there was no escaping without her help.”

My next insult sticks in my throat. I swallow it down before I manage to say, “Eight people?”

“Your firebomb was reckless. Of course, reckless is what you do best,” Nikki says, one hand gripping her hip.

The heat rises in my chest, and I can feel the static electricity crackle between my palms. God, what I wouldn’t give to set her hair on fire. If she wants orange hair, I’ll give her orange hair. Just one strand would take care of the rest, wouldn’t it?

“Jess,” Ally says, watching my face. “Tell Nick thank you.”

“Thanks for letting me know you’re still stalking my girlfriend, Sasquatch. I’ll have to keep a closer eye on you.” I turn to Ally and find her blushing furiously. “Get Maisie. We aren’t staying here.”

“We can’t leave yet,” Ally says. “What happened in the alley is all over the news. They’re twisting the story.”

I look around the little room. The small, stiff sofa where I sit. The fake tree in a corner, the mini fridge. There’s no TV to confirm what she’s saying, but I guess I don’t need one. I’m not surprised that the authorities would twist what really happened into a tale that makes us look like the bad guys, especially with Caldwell’s help. “Of course they are, but that doesn’t mean we can stay here. We need to get to Gloria and find out if Rachel and Gideon are okay.”

“We’re searching for Gideon and Rachel now,” Nikki says, but she isn’t talking to me. Her voice goes all low and sweet for Ally. “I’ll notify you immediately if we learn anything.”

Ally smiles at her. “Thanks. I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

“Have sex?” I guess. “Play Jenga? I’m sure there’s lots of things we can do without her, babe.”

Nikki’s head angles slightly as her blue earpiece blinks to life. “I have to go. Try to act like a guest.”

Nikki glowers at me from her glorified height. I hate that she is like eight inches taller than me. Of course, it makes it easier to sucker punch her in the gut. I consider doing just that, but with her fancy body armor it’ll probably hurt my hand. If I cry about my broken hand that wouldn’t look very cool. Of course, my healing powers would fix it pretty quick, which
would
look cool. Ah, decisions, decisions.

“If I’m your guest then can I get a sandwich? I’d love a PB and J,” I say.

Nikki slinks from the room with her teeth clenched.

I sigh, daring to meet Ally’s eyes, knowing I’m in big trouble. “Can we go now?”

“No.” Ally’s face is flushed red and her shoulders are scrunched up toward her ears. “No, we can’t go. You know why?”

I open my mouth before I realize answering that question would be a death sentence.

“We can’t go because Rachel and Gideon are missing, you’ve murdered eight people on live television, and I need to get ahold of Gloria!”

You murdered eight people on live television.
It’s like I’ve been shot in the chest again. Her words wind me. “You think I
murdered
them? Like on purpose? Like some heartless—”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I know why you did it, but you shouldn’t have used your firebomb. It’s too dangerous.” Ally frowns and pulls at her face.

“If 100 people or 1000 people point guns at you, I’ll do it again,” I tell her. I take both her hands in mine, trying to warm them. “You understand that, right? I don’t care how many people I have to kill to keep you safe.”

Ally pulls away from me and takes a deep breath before rubbing her forehead. “I know. I know, and that’s a problem.”

I’m sure as hell not going to apologize for protecting her. Even if that’s what she wants me to do. Suddenly the room feels too warm, heat itching at my collar. The shirt is scratchy where the blood dried into the fabric, making it stiff.

“I’m going to try Gloria,” Ally says at last, turning away from me without a kiss, a hug, nothing. “Maybe she saw this, or if she didn’t, maybe she has insight. If I can’t get ahold of her, we’ll stick to the original plan.”

I’m trying to remember the plan.

Buy three tickets for Albuquerque, but get off in Oklahoma City. Travel to New Orleans from there.

Ally sighs, her train of thought catching up to mine. “Maybe we can get Nikki to escort us to New Orleans.”

I cock my head and give her a warning look.

Ally mirrors me, mocking me. “Refusing help is what idiots do.”

I snap my mouth shut and suck in a deep breath before speaking. My self-control lasts for about three seconds. “If
you
want to get back together with your ex-girlfriend,
fine
. But let’s not pretend that we didn’t leave them for a reason, and that now they’ve conveniently shown up. Nikki and Jeremiah are supposed to be in Chicago. It’s no coincidence that she’s here, following us around.”

Ally stamps her foot. “I do not want to get back together with her!”

Nikki appears in the doorway, stopping midstride. Both Ally and I turn toward the sound of her boots squeaking to a halt.

“Don’t stop on my account.” Nikki’s face is blank and her voice suspiciously flat.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to sound so—” Ally’s face flushes a deeper red.

I fold my arms over my chest. “Nikki is a big girl. She can take it.”

Nikki extends the wrapped sub sandwiches with a hint of regret. “You don’t owe me any explanations. Here. Eat something.”

This magnanimous declaration seems to warm Ally even more. Jesus Christ. It’s a sandwich. Not the queen’s jewels.

“Hey, there’s ham on this!” I squeal.

“Pick it off,” Nikki says with a glare. Her face softens when she turns to Ally. “The secure line is clear if you want to make that call.”

Ally watches her go. Gee-
zus
.
Really?
Do I really have to worry about this right now? I look down at the pale, slimy flesh on my Kaiser roll.

Ally hands me her sandwich and then hops up to leave the room. “I’m going to call Gloria. Hopefully she can tell us something useful.”

Ally follows Nikki out of the room, leaving me with the sandwiches. I pinch the meat between my fingers, and try not to think about how much the marbled flesh looks like my thigh muscle the time it got split open by a collapsing construction beam. A clean, vulnerable deli slice before the blood started pouring out.

I gag and drop the ham on the floor. The splat is punctuated by the whoosh of wings and a breeze blowing my bangs back from my eyes.

“Did Nikki scare you off?” I ask him.

“Maisie was at the door listening to your plan.”

“Well, she must have snuck away when she heard Nikki leaving.”

Gabriel doesn’t humor me with a reply.

“So is Rachel dead?” I take a bite of my cheese and mayo sandwich. Wow. I’m really slumming it.

“No.”

“Are you omniscient?”

“No.” Gabriel’s wings puff indignantly. “I must turn my gaze as you do.”

“O-kay,” I say, pretending to know what that means. “Then how do you know Rachel isn’t dead?”

“Her power is still present. I can sense it the way you can sense your own gifts.”

And he’s right of course. I can feel them: the electricity coursing over my skin, making my little hairs stand up and shift with my agitation, like a million little feelers. And my cells too. Ever since Jason’s healing power kicked into full force, it’s like I can feel my systems on guard. My little sentinels constantly searching every inch of my body for the slightest hint of damage. It’s a constant, jittery feeling very similar to the need to pee.

“That’s a relief.”

Gabriel flickers again. “I never said Rachel was okay.”

Maisie bursts into the room and Gabriel vanishes completely. “God, is the blonde always so bossy? ‘Don’t let that pug on the couch. Get your feet off the coffee table. Tell me about your father.’”

I groan. “Go away.”

Maisie huffs. “What’s your problem? None of this is
my
fault.”

I unclench my teeth and take a breath. “I was talking to Gabriel, and he said Rachel was in trouble. You came in and he disappeared, so I’m freaking out to be interrupted at such a crucial moment. Got it?”

Her mouth parts in surprise. “Oh. Yeah. Okay. Can I get some change for the soda machine?”

I fish some coins out of my pocket and hand them over. I call after her before she disappears. Her head pops back in.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t talk to Nikki about Caldwell.”

Maisie smirks. “Duh. I don’t know these people.”

“They have a history of pitting Caldwell and me against each other. Let’s not give them anything to work with.”

“As if you guys need a reason to kill each other,” Maisie says and disappears again. The sound of her rubber soles shrieking against the floor grows faint. I barely even hear the swoosh of a door when Gabriel appears again.

“Tell me everything you know about Rachel.”

“I cannot see her clearly.”

“What?” I scream. “What the hell do you mean? Turn your gaze or whatever you were talking about.”

“Her angel protects her.”

My mouth opens and closes as my brain and mouth fail to coordinate with each other. I consider throwing the fake plant at him, but it’ll make a mess on the floor, and that’ll be something else that’s my fault.