by Sarah Fine
The Chief stopped at the door of a small, neat office. He pointed toward a high-ceilinged room at the end of the hall. “When you’re cleaned up, come on back here and I’ll go over some of our standing orders and protocols. I imagine it’s not too different from Pittsburgh, but the canal zones make things tricky sometimes.”
“Yessir.”
“Call me Dec!” hollered the Chief as Eli headed into the locker room. It was shift-change time, and the room was filled with his new colleagues, some in street clothes, some wearing their uniforms. Instead of rushing to leave or get to their rigs, they were all gathered around a videowall at the front of the room. Eli stood at the edge of the crowd and turned to see what they were watching, expecting to see images of the latest bombing or food riot.
On the screen, a tall salt-and-pepper-haired man in a suit stood at a podium. Dozens of reporters were crowded in front of him, all holding up their tablets to record the event. Behind the older man stood three people: a fit, broad-shouldered man; a statuesque platinum-blonde beauty; and a petite black-haired young woman with huge turquoise-blue eyes. She was staring at the man at the podium, her attention fixed entirely on him.
It was obviously some kind of press conference, but the volume was low and Eli couldn’t make out what was being said over the buzz of conversation among the paramedics. A short barrel-chested man beside Eli elbowed him and inclined his head toward the dark-haired woman on the screen. “Mmm, I’d like to spend a night prying those gorgeous legs apart.”
Eli looked down at his new colleague and forced a tight smile. “I’d prefer to spend time with a woman who actually wanted me between her legs,” he said, barely suppressing his desire to punch the guy right in his homely face.
That homely face split into a wide grin. “Aw, a gentleman. That’s cute. I didn’t mean anything by it, new boy. I’m Captain Len Ramsey, by the way. Night shift supervisor.” He held out his hand.
Before Eli could take it, a wide dark-skinned hand closed hard over Len’s shoulder. Towering behind Len was possibly the biggest guy Eli had ever seen, and he wasn’t surprised at the flash of fear and pain in Len’s eyes. The man smiled at Eli, canines gleaming. “I know you’re just working off some frustration, Len,” the big man said, “but make sure the Chief doesn’t hear you talking about his little sister that way.”
Len’s jaw went rigid. “Piss off, Trevor,” he muttered, shrugging out of the man’s grip and stalking toward a row of lockers across the room.
Eli decided he liked Trevor, if only for making Len go away. After introducing himself and shaking Trevor’s hand, Eli nodded at the screen. “The Chief’s sister?”
Trevor turned to the videowall and barked, “Volume level high.”
The voice of a news anchor immediately filled the room: . . . was packed today as Patrick Ferry, a prominent local philanthropist, and the CEO and owner of Psychopomps Incorporated, announced his retirement, effective immediately . . .
“Ferry? As in, Chief Ferry?” Eli asked.
“Yeah, the Ferrys are a powerful family here in Boston. That’s Dec’s father.” Trevor pointed to the older man at the podium, then waved his hand at the people behind the guy. “And those are the Chief’s brother and sisters.”
He pointed at the broad-shouldered man, who was now shaking Patrick Ferry’s hand and stepping up to the podium. “That’s Rylan. As of today, he’s the new CEO of the company.”
Trevor pointed at the platinum blonde, who was staring at Rylan Ferry with a cold, pinched expression on her pale face. “That’s Aislin. She’s moving into Rylan’s position as chief operating officer.”
Eli raised an eyebrow. “A real family business, huh? What does the company do?”
“Exports,” Trevor said in a bland voice. He pointed at the petite woman with the haunting eyes. “And as I said, that’s the Chief’s little sister.”
Eli stared at the woman, whose gaze remained on her father. It was such a protective expression, which was funny because she looked too soft and sweet to do much damage. Still, there was something ferocious in her eyes, a warning, a promise. She shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, drawing Eli’s eyes down her body, which was wrapped in a steel-gray sheath dress that hugged every curve. But as gorgeous as she looked, she also seemed uncomfortable as hell. He wondered why. He wondered if she lived in the city. If she was close to Dec and ever stopped by the EMS station to visit. If she dated anyone but execs and playboys. If she wore underwear under that little dress. If she—
Eli pulled his gaze from the screen. “Does she work at the company, too?” he asked, trying for an offhanded tone.
Trevor chuckled as they watched the young woman hug her father and smile sweetly up at him. “Nah, no way. Cacy works here. She’s one of the best paramedics we have. And one of the toughest.”
“She works here?” Eli tried to imagine that tiny, beautiful woman up to her elbows in blood and gore.
Trevor slapped him on the back. “Yup. Now, pop those eyes back in your head and go take a shower. You stink, man.”
Eli wasn’t about to disagree. He hitched his pack up and turned for the showers. He’d made it about ten steps when Trevor called out, “Oh, and Eli?”
“Yeah?”
Trevor looked like he was trying to keep from laughing. “I hear you’ve been assigned as Cacy’s new partner. Good luck.”
CHAPTER TWO
Cacy plowed past the rows of ambulances parked in the cavernous garage and stumbled through the back door to the locker room, grateful to hit AC again. As soon as she made her less-than-graceful entrance, the guys greeted her with their usual teasing-but-affectionate wolf-whistle welcome. She curtsied elaborately and headed down the hall to the doorway of her brother’s office. He looked up from his computer screen and smiled. “Hey. How was the press conference?”
“It went off without a hitch, but it would have been nice if you’d come, too.”
Dec ran a hand over his hair, leaving it standing on end. “He has you.”
She walked into the room and stood next to her brother. He had the same ice-blue eyes as their father, the same inky-black hair of his youth, the same elegantly handsome features. She tapped the Scope hanging from the chain around his neck. “Does he have you?”
Dec’s face flushed as he looked down at the screen where the scheduling board was displayed. His shift had been over for an hour, but he hadn’t yet changed out of his uniform. “It’s hard to get the day off when you’re the Chief. And you know I do my part. I shuttled three souls through the Veil during my lunch break. While you and the rest of them were at the press conference.”
She pinched Dec’s cheek. “Sounds like you need a nap.” Ferrys were human, but they required a mere hour of sleep per day, which was the only way she and Dec could maintain their day jobs and still fulfill their family responsibilities.
Dec rose from his chair. “Are they still staring at the videowall in there?”
Cacy shrugged. “Was it that big a deal?”
Dec gave her a look that said she should know better. Normally, the news of a CEO’s retirement wouldn’t interest their fellow paramedics at all. And they had no idea what the Ferrys’ business really was, no idea how the Psychopomps empire touched their lives . . . and maybe their deaths . . . every day. The only thing they cared about was that Patrick Ferry had bought the struggling EMS department from the city and funded the renovation of every EMS station in Boston the year Cacy became a paramedic and joined her brother at the Chinatown station.
It had been her father’s velvet revenge after Cacy turned down a cushy white-glove position at his corporate office—and left his side for the first time in eight years. All she’d wanted to do was find her own way, but he’d accused her of abandoning him. So he’d made himself an instant hero to every paramedic in Boston, and Cacy had been dubbed a “princess.” She’d had to scrape and fight for ev
ery shred of her colleagues’ respect.
Every night. For the last seven years.
Dec threw a thickly muscled arm over her shoulders and whispered in her ear, pulling her from her thoughts. “Finally found you a new partner.”
She tensed and reached for her own Scope, which suddenly felt heavy around her neck. Her last ambulance crewmate had been killed in the line of duty a month ago. She’d escorted him through the Veil personally. The only problem—when she flipped her Scope and opened what turned out to be a portal to Hell, he’d tried to escape. She’d had to hunt him down and cram him, screaming and clawing, through the portal.
She’d done it tons of times before, just not to someone she’d done shots with.
“Why can’t I keep Trevor?”
Dec chuckled. “And here I thought you hated the Kere.”
“That’s because most of them are bloodthirsty assholes who enjoy the pain they cause. But Trevor’s all right. He’s different.”
“You just want to work with someone who can’t die, you coward. Anyway, Trevor misses his day shifts. Your new partner’s a regular human, but he seems pretty durable.”
“Is he a transfer?”
Dec nodded.
That was good news. It meant the guy wasn’t a newbie. It meant he knew what they were facing out there. She relaxed a little. “Which station?”
Dec frowned. “Um.”
She twisted from her brother’s grasp so she could stand in front of him. “Dec?”
He shrugged. “Wilkinsburg.”
“Wilkin-what? Where’s that?”
He watched her carefully. “Near Pittsburgh.”
“You let some freaking refugee desert-dweller into our crew? And you assigned him to me? Do you think I enjoy watching my partners die?”
Dec took hold of her shoulders and shook her lightly, a warning in his eyes. “I’m having a hard enough time staffing two-person crews, let alone the four we need to run right. Eli’s an experienced paramedic, and—”
“Yeah, if you’ve got a snakebite or a cactus splinter—”
He clamped his broad hand over her mouth. “You’re going to show him the ropes. I’d have taken him on myself, but I’m still trying to get Carol settled in. Len’s got a new partner, too, so he couldn’t help. You’re the next-best thing.”
She punched him not so lightly in the chest, and his hand fell away. “I’m the best thing,” she snapped—and realized she’d fallen into Dec’s trap.
Dec grinned. “Go get changed so you can start proving it.” He swatted her butt and shoved her toward the locker room. “Be nice, little sister,” he said in a sweetly sarcastic voice.
Cacy shot him the finger and stalked into the locker room. She and the other female paramedics had an aisle to themselves. It was the only privacy they got, but the guys—most of them, at least—were really respectful. Besides, Cacy wasn’t modest.
Which was good, because she’d just taken off her T-shirt and bra when Trevor appeared out of thin air beside her. “Sneaky bastard,” she yelped as she fell against her locker.
He grinned and steadied her with incredibly warm hands. The Kere ran hot, and Trevor was no exception. In more ways than one. The man was six and a half feet of chocolaty hotness. The fact that he was gay hadn’t stopped Cacy from enjoying a few elaborate fantasies about the two of them in the back of her rig. The fact that he was a living personification of death . . . well . . . that hadn’t stopped her, either.
Trevor patted the top of her head. “Dec told me you finally have a new partner, so I stopped by to give you my condolences.”
Cacy’s stomach dropped. “Tell me he’s not Marked already. It’s his first freaking day.”
He glanced down at the inside of his forearm, rubbing it like it ached. “Not on my list.”
Trevor and the rest of the Kere were responsible for Marking—and presiding over the gory, disease-ridden, pain-filled deaths—of humans who had drawn the short straw of fate. Few Kere interacted with humans as equals, and few had day jobs (they didn’t need to, since Ferrys had to split the death commission with them). Still fewer actually cared about people. That’s where Trevor was an exception. For whatever reason, he wanted to stay connected to the humanity he’d lost a century ago when he sold his soul to become a Ker.
Trevor raked his gaze over Cacy’s bare breasts. “This is a good look for you, little Ferry. Should I call Len over here?”
“Fuck off,” she said, laughing. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
The grin fell from his face. And that could only mean one thing.
She laid her hand on his cheek. “Hey. How many lives did you save during your paramedic shift today?”
His eyes met hers. “I don’t know. We went on twelve calls.” He threw his massive shoulders back. “I delivered a baby on the way to the hospital. The little guy couldn’t wait to be born.”
“How many lives are you about to take as a Ker?” she whispered.
“Nine,” he mouthed.
Shit. It was going to be a busy night if the Marked were in the Chinatown emergency response zone. Cacy cringed inwardly but said, “So in the balance, you saved more than you destroyed. It’s a good day.”
He smiled sadly and pulled her into a hug. “I’m going to miss riding with you, Cacy.”
“Bullshit,” she mumbled against his chest. “You’re thrilled to be back on first shift. You’ll get to hit the clubs again.”
He chuckled. “But I’ll be dancing with tears in my eyes.”
“Hey, Trevor, do you know where—? Oh, sorry,” said a voice that carried the slightest of western twangs.
Trevor’s arms fell away from Cacy as they both turned. The newcomer’s emerald-green eyes widened, and his cheeks flushed dark pink. “So sorry, ma’am,” he muttered, but he didn’t seem able to tear his eyes away from her breasts.
Trevor snorted. “Boy, you are so fresh it’s sweet. Sergeant Eli Margolis, meet your new partner, Lieutenant Cacia Ferry. Cacia, Eli.” He waved his hand back and forth between them.
Cacy put her hands on her hips, praying the men in front of her would attribute her hard nipples to the fact that the room was cold. But in truth, damn. The newbie was going to take some getting used to. His short dark-blond hair was streaked with gold and platinum, like the sun loved him. His skin was tanned but not scarred or blistery like so many these days. She couldn’t choose which part of him to stare at first, so her eyes just bounced all over, from high cheekbones to square jaw to broad shoulders to lean hips. She almost asked him to turn around so she could admire the rear view.
Her new partner was sex on a stick.
Which sucked, since she had no intention of going anywhere near said stick. Or any other part of him. “You never seen a pair of breasts before, Sergeant Desert Boy?” she snapped.
His tongue darted out to wet his lips as his piercing gaze hit her. He gave her a sweet half-apologetic smile. “None like yours, Lieutenant City Girl.”
Trevor threw his head back and laughed. “This is a match made in . . . somewhere. What did you need, Eli?”
Eli’s eyes didn’t leave Cacy’s face. “Her. That’s all.”
Rebellious little shards of pleasure streaked down Cacy’s spine. She shivered and turned toward her locker. “You found me. Give me five minutes and I’ll meet you at rig four-three-six.”
She actually only needed a minute to get dressed. She needed the other four to freaking pull herself together.
“Yes, ma’am,” Eli said. She looked over her shoulder to read the expression on his face, but he was gone.
Trevor tugged lightly at the back of her ponytail. “I can’t tell if your day just got a lot better or a lot worse.”
“I’m not sure, either,” she muttered. She’d sworn off guys a few years ago, the night she’d had to escort her last boyfriend t
o the Afterlife. And Trevor knew that, because he’d been the one to Mark the guy for death. It hadn’t been personal. Brian’s name had simply come up on Trevor’s list, and Trevor had done his job. So Cacy had guided her boyfriend to Heaven, just not the heaven she’d planned at the start of the evening. Then she’d split the commission with Trevor, drunk herself into serious oblivion, and decided getting involved with anyone else wasn’t worth the pain.
“Be safe out there, Cace. It’s gonna be a long night. Sorry in advance.” Trevor leaned in, kissed her cheek, and walked away. Off to wreak havoc Cacy would have to clean up. Off to shed the blood she’d no doubt be washing out of the back of her rig by morning. Off to reap a soul she’d probably have to escort to Heaven or Hell on her coffee break.
CHAPTER THREE
Eli stood by rig 436, pulling at one of the dozens of zippers on his bulletproof, waterborne bacteria–repelling paramedic uniform. It would take some getting used to, like most things in this place. Especially Lieutenant Cacia Ferry.
By the time he’d showered and met with the Chief, Eli had convinced himself it would be no big deal to have her as a partner. He’d worked with tons of female paramedics in the past. He’d never been anything but professional. And this would be just like that. Nothing but professional.
Then he’d come face-to-face with her. Now he would spend the rest of his shift trying to get the image of her breasts, rose-pink nipples pearl-hard and mouthwatering, out of his head.
“Chief’s sister,” he whispered to himself.
A buzzing vibration coming from one of his pockets pulled him from his thoughts. He pried out his cell and looked down at it. Here safely. Apartment is great! And check out my lab! I think I’ll call this handsome fellow ‘Danny.’ Hope your first day at the job is going well. XOXO
