Divine Trilogy

by Cheryl Kaye Tardif

  Some family you are, Natassia!

  Brandon waited while she adjusted her position and pushed herself back against the pillows. "How are you feeling?"

  "Like I've been run over by a semi. Twice!"

  "You look pretty damn good―for roadkill."

  She flinched at the undertone in his voice.

  He scooted the chair closer and reached for her hand.

  "Jas―"

  "Don't!" she threatened, pulling away.

  "I've been doing a lot of thinking while you've been lying in here. I think we can make this work between us."

  Jasi groaned tiredly. "There's another reason why we can't get involved, Brandon."

  She heard his soft intake of breath.

  "When I get involved with someone it takes something from me. It can interfere with my skills. It blocks me, exhausts me…drains me."

  "But what about Ben? Natassia?" he asked, rising to his feet. "You care about them?"

  "I don't know why it's different with them. It just…is."

  Brandon fiddled with the plant that Baker had placed near the window. "What if we take it slow, Jasi? We could see how I affect you, your gift. Maybe it'll be different with me. Maybe your psychic abilities won't―"

  She shook her head.

  "I'm not willing to take that chance, Brandon. I'm sorry but it's not just my career we're talking about. This is my life! Helping people. What I do can mean the difference between life and death for someone."

  Jasi thought of the man lying at the bottom of the ocean.

  "When I get…close to someone I lose something and that could cost a life. A victim's, mine…even yours."

  Standing by the window, Brandon looked away.

  When he finally spoke, his voice was cool. "You care about me then." It wasn't a question.

  "Yes."

  Her answer was bittersweet.

  Neither of them uttered a word.

  There was an endless silence―a void of emptiness. And in that emptiness, Jasi found herself. Alone.

  In two swift steps, Brandon reached her side and leaned down. His mouth was hard, demanding. His kiss ravished her. It made her body tingle right down to her toes. Then he drew back until his face was inches from hers, and his ice blue eyes devoured hers.

  "I'm not giving up on us."

  She wasn't expecting that. His comment shook her.

  Brandon strode to the door, then halted.

  "Can I ask you something, Jasi?"

  Too tired to resist him, she nodded.

  "This job you do―it's dangerous. You almost died on this case." His voice cracked slightly. "Why?"

  Confused by the question, she stammered, "W-why, what?"

  "Why did you choose this line of work?"

  Her breath hung suspended in time.

  Then she exhaled a long, ragged sigh. "Brandon…you don't understand."

  His eyes blasted her with coolness…and a tinge of something else.

  Regret.

  Without a word, he walked out the door.

  "I didn't choose it!" Jasi shouted after him. "Walsh!"

  But the door had already closed.

  Her heart was tearing.

  She could almost envision it―shredded and useless, lying on the floor.

  "I didn't choose it, Brandon," she whispered hoarsely, her eyelids fluttering shut.

  It chose me.

  The sedatives in her IV lured her toward a safe, painless unconsciousness.

  And then Agent Jasi McLellan slept.

  The sleep of the dead.

  Epilogue

  She floated in and out of consciousness, like a wave lapping restlessly against the shore. She was oblivious to the sounds and faces that floated past her.

  Where was she? Why was it so dark and cold?

  Jasi's eyes wandered, taking in the long corridor before her and the door at the end of the hall. It seemed so far away. The bare floor gleamed, polished to a reflective shine. She could hear the patter of her black sandals as they clicked along the floor.

  She leaned down, staring at her reflection―a face that she did not recognize. Blinking rapidly, she cried out in terror when the face became two. Her head whipped around. A scream became trapped in her throat.

  The dead girl from her closet was coming for her.

  The girl's eyes were hollowed and black. Her face was a ghastly pale shade of gray. The pink skipping rope noose cut deeply into her lolling neck.

  "Why can't you leave me alone?" Jasi pleaded.

  The dead girl's gray, blistered face moved. "I can't leave. You need me. And I need you."

  Her accent was soft―southern.

  "He keeps callin' me," the girl whispered, her eyes wide and full of fear.

  "Who?" Jasi demanded.

  The girl began to sob.

  Jasi reached out to touch her blistered shoulder but snatched her hand back when it encountered skin that was colder than ice.

  "Who are you?"

  The hallway closed in around them, pulsating like a snake's belly digesting its prey. A bright light at one end of the hallway made Jasi turn away.

  "Emily," came the soft reply.

  "What do you want, Emily?"

  The girl's next words chilled Jasi to the bone.

  "I want you to find me."

  Jasi shook her head, confused, and took a few steps back toward the light. "What do you mean? You're right…here."

  The girl said nothing.

  "I've seen you ever since I was a child," Jasi remarked. "You've never spoken to me before. Why now?"

  She took two steps toward the light, then waited.

  Emily lowered her head. "You jes never heard me before. Now you're open. Now you're hearin' me fine."

  Jasi glanced behind her. The light flickered once. The brilliance beckoned her closer, enveloping her in its warmth―a cocoon of safety. She paused and looked back at the dead girl with the pink skipping rope around her throat.

  "It's okay, Jasmine," Emily smiled weakly. "Go."

  The girl drifted backward into the shadows of a closet.

  "Emily, wait!" Jasi cried out. "How do I find you?"

  The girl's smile brightened and her lifeless body flared with color for a second. "When you're ready, I'll find you."

  As Jasi drifted off into a peaceful healing sleep, she made a solemn vow to the dead girl in her closet.

  I'll find you, Emily.

  I promise…

  ~ * ~

  If you enjoyed this book, please consider writing a short review and posting it on your favorite review site or retailer. Reviews are very helpful to other readers and are greatly appreciated by authors, especially me. When you post a review, drop me an email and let me know and I may feature part of it on my blog/site. Thank you. ~ Cheryl

  cherylktardif@shaw.ca

  DIVINE JUSTICE

  Cheryl Kaye Tardif

  For my mommy-in-law Francine,

  the one person who sells more of my books than I do and supports me in all that I do―thank you and I love you.

  Acknowledgements

  I'd like to thank my early editors and readers. You always keep me on my toes and your honest feedback is irreplaceable and much appreciated.

  Thanks to author Kelly Komm for her creative input and proofreading. And for her continuous support and friendship.

  Thank you to my editor, Lisa Hazard, for finding those sneaky gremlins that find their way into my work when I'm not looking.

  A special thanks to Jennifer Johnson, cover artist extraordinaire, who always makes me look good by creating the most wonderful book covers.

  My sincere appreciation to author Art Tirrell for sharing his nautical expertise. Now I can pretend I know what I'm talking about―even when I don't.

  A very special thank you to every bookstore I have visited or held book signings at over the years―especially to Audrey's Books (Edmonton), Coles (Millwoods Town Centre and Southgate Shopping Centre in Edmonton), Chapters (South Point in Edmonto
n), Indigo (Edmonton) and other Indigo Books & Music, Chapters and Coles Bookstores in Edmonton and beyond. And to every patron who has entered these bookstores, whether you've bought my books or not.

  Thank you always to my family, especially my husband Marc and my daughter Jessica, for all their support and enthusiasm.

  On a journey to justice for Justice everywhere,

  By Mandamus of the Great Heavenly Cloner,

  I wake up daily before Eos kisses the Sun,

  And I stand by the tower of Justice and chant…

  ~Andre Emmanuel Bendavi Ben-YEHU

  Prologue

  Jasi McLellan drifted in and out of consciousness, her thoughts like waves lapping restlessly against the shore. When she opened her eyes, distorted faces flashed past her and indistinct words assaulted her ears. She reached for the names that belonged to those faces, but they eluded her. She tried to swallow, but her mouth and tongue were sandpaper-dry. She inhaled slowly, trying to place the smell, a mix of antiseptic and sweat.

  Where the hell am I? And why is it so dark, so cold?

  She blinked once and everything changed.

  Before her lay a long, murky corridor. At her feet, the bare hardwood floor was polished to a reflective shine. Her sandals clicked as she headed toward the door at the end of the hall. A crack of backlighting outlined the door's shape. As she moved toward it, the door appeared to drift further away.

  She paused and leaned down to look at her reflection in the gleaming floor. A face she didn't recognize stared back at her. Amidst charred skin, blue eyes blinked at her.

  I have green eyes.

  She cried out in terror when the face became two.

  The dead girl from her closet was coming for her.

  Jasi faced the girl. "Why can't you leave me alone?"

  "I can't leave. You need me, and I need you."

  The girl's accent was soft―from South Carolina maybe―and the pink skipping rope noose cut deeply into her lolling neck with every word she spoke.

  "He keeps callin' me," the dead girl whispered.

  "Who?"

  The girl began to sob and Jasi reached out to touch the child's blistered shoulder. She snatched her hand back when it encountered skin that was morgue cold.

  "Who are you?"

  "Emily," came the soft reply.

  "What do you want, Emily?"

  The girl's next words turned Jasi's blood to ice.

  "I want you to find me."

  Confused, Jasi shook her head and took a few steps backward. "What do you mean? You're right here."

  The girl said nothing.

  "I've seen you ever since I was a child," Jasi said. "You've never spoken to me before. Why now?"

  Emily lowered her head. "You jes never heard me before. Now you're open-minded. Now you're hearin' me fine."

  A light flickered at the end of the hall and Jasi glanced over her shoulder.

  "It's okay, Jasmine." Emily smiled weakly. "Go."

  The girl drifted backward toward the shadows.

  "Emily, wait!" Jasi cried. "How do I find you?"

  "When you're ready, I'll find you."

  As Jasi drifted off into a peaceful, healing sleep, she made a solemn vow to the dead girl in her closet.

  I'll find you, Emily. I promise.

  The dead girl finally had a name―Emily.

  1

  Tuesday, July 3, 2012

  Vancouver General Hospital, Vancouver, BC

  Natassia Prushenko was scared―really scared.

  She looked down at the woman lying motionless in the bed. She's so pale, so still. Like death.

  The door opened behind her. Someone stepped into the room.

  "Is Jasi awake yet?"

  Natassia glanced over her shoulder. "No, she hasn't moved an inch. I'm worried about her, Ben."

  Benjamin Roberts crossed the room, bringing with him an air of calm authority. When he reached Natassia, they stood side-by-side, keeping vigil over the woman in the hospital bed.

  It had been nearly two weeks since their partner and team leader Jasmine McLellan had taken a bullet high on her left arm. She'd been doing well, was even out of Vancouver General Hospital for nearly a week, but then she'd taken an unexpected turn for the worse. Her arm had swelled painfully, the bullet wound festering. Without warning, a blood infection invaded Jasi's body, causing serious complications and a sudden trip back to the hospital. That's where they discovered she had a concussion and mild swelling of the brain, probably from when she hit the ground after an explosion during the last case.

  Natassia stared down at Jasi. "I don't think she's getting any better, Ben. She looks like she's barely breathing." She reached out to touch Jasi's arm, but snatched back her hand as if she'd touched a hot flame.

  Ben raised a brow. "Natassia…"

  "You know what can happen if I touch her. After all she's been through, the last thing she needs is me poking around in her mind. Anyway, we already know what happened during the Gemini Murders. It's not as if we need to know anymore."

  She studied the woman in the bed, taking in the tangled mane of shoulder-length auburn hair and the sprinkle of cinnamon freckles that appeared much darker against the creamy whiteness of her face.

  "It's up to Jasi now," Ben said quietly. "We both know how stubborn she is."

  He turned away, but not before Natassia saw tears in his eyes. "Where are you going?" she asked.

  "I want to check on her status. I'll get her doctor."

  Natassia felt a void in the room as soon as he was gone. She couldn't help but feel a little better when he was around. If there was one thing she'd learned, Ben knew how to take care of things―especially the people he cared for.

  She watched Jasi. "And he sure cares a lot for you, my new friend."

  Although she'd only known Jasi for about three months, she'd grown fond of her. The slender redhead had a lot of spunk. That was something she could appreciate.

  Natassia had spent a few years consulting with a Russian agency similar to the Canadian Federal Bureau of Investigation, which had been formed in 2003. As a Victim Empath capable of receiving cryptic flashes from the minds of victims, she was responsible for bringing down some notorious criminals. After a brief scandalous affair with a married field agent, Natassia was 'traded' to Canada's CFBI. Recently, she'd been assigned to the PSI Division and relocated to Vancouver, B.C.

  "Remember when we first met, Jasi? You thought I was an escort hitting on Ben." She laughed. "The poor guy practically fell over in his chair when I sat down with you two."

  It had been an awkward first meeting.

  Natassia let out a sigh.

  She still felt like the new kid on the block, having only been a Psychic Skills Investigator with the CFBI for the past three months. As a PSI, her gift of reading victims, live or dead ones, had helped crack the last case. But not before Jasi had been shot. Natassia hadn't been able to prevent that. Or Jasi's subsequent heartbreak.

  She pulled the chair up to the side of the bed. "Get well, my friend. We've got cases to solve, murderers to catch and good-looking men to tease."

  There was no answer.

  She leaned closer. "Jasi? Can you hear me?"

  No reply.

  "Jasmine McLellan, it's time to wake up now."

  The woman in the bed remained still.

  Out in the hall, footsteps approached. Ben entered the room, followed by Jasi's father and Brady, her brother. Dr. Mohinder Habib entered the room after them and immediately picked up the chart at the end of Jasi's bed.

  "So?" Natassia said impatiently.

  When the doctor looked up from the file, his expression was guarded. That made her nervous.

  "When is she going to wake up?" she blurted.

  "We've been monitoring her stats closely," Dr. Habib said, his black eyes drifting to the bed. "Ms. McLellan has been only slightly responsive to antibiotics."

  Natassia frowned. "But she's getting better, right?"

  "Your frie
nd is too exhausted to fight off the infection, and the swelling in her brain is impeding her recovery." Dr. Habib tried to smile. "She's in a very deep sleep."

  "You mean she's in a coma," Ben stated.

  The doctor nodded. "Yes, but she's still breathing on her own."

  Jasi's father looked stunned. "When will she wake up?"

  "I'm afraid we don't know when," Dr. Habib said gently. "The body often reacts this way when it's under attack. Some people wake up within days, once an infection is under control. Some remain in a coma for longer periods of time." He made a note on Jasi's chart and adjusted the IV drip.

  "What's the worst case scenario?" Ben asked.

  Natassia knew it was the one question everyone had on their minds.

  "Well, worst case―and I mean very worst―would be that we can't control the swelling in her brain or the infection in her arm." He turned away from his patient. "And if the infection travels up her arm toward her heart, we might have to take more aggressive action."

  "What kind of action?" Jasi's brother demanded.

  "Brady," his father warned. "Let him finish."

  Dr. Habib's expression darkened. "If the infection spreads upward, it could reach her heart or brain and that would complicate matters. There is a slim possibility that we might have to amputate her arm."

  Natassia let out a soft cry. "No!"

  "We might not have a choice," the doctor said quietly.

  Natassia moved closer to the bed. As she gazed at Jasi, her mouth tightened. I won't let them take your arm.

  "For now, her vitals are good," Dr. Habib said, moving toward the door. "We have every reason to believe she'll fight the infection and regain consciousness. When she's ready. I'll check in on her in a couple of hours, but I can assure you we're doing everything we can for her."

  Brady and his father followed the doctor out into the hall, while Natassia sank into the chair by Jasi's bed.

  "They might take her arm, Ben. Oh, God…"

  Ben placed a gloved hand on her shoulder. "Hey, you heard the doctor. She's stable and she's a fighter. She'll wake up soon enough, and when she does, she'll be bossier than hell."