Psychic Wanted [Un]Dead or Alive

by Amie Gibbons

  He’s gorgeous, always has been. His natural (well, supernatural) sex appeal and gold eyes are a testament to the fact that he’s never been fully human.

  He’s part demon. And whoever his daddy was back in ancient Egyptian times, he left Carvi with strong features, a Roman nose, those thick lips, and pheromones that make members of both sexes and all kinda different magical species all hot and bothered.

  His dyed dark blue hair was longer than when I’d last seen him in July, the gelled spikes standing out like three-inch blades, and I swear I saw a flash of fang as he turned fully towards me.

  His eyes met mine and I couldn’t see anything else.

  Three thousand plus years of life stared me down, pushed my mind, liquified my insides. Pressure built behind my eyes and a drop of sweat rolled down the side of my face.

  It tickled, and I tried to pull my hand up to wipe it away. It inched down my temple and my hand wouldn’t move. My face twitched as it slid past my over-rouged cheek. Another bead escaped from my hair line. My mid-back, golden-brown ringlets weighed at least a hundred pounds and they crushed down my skull, compressing my brain.

  And my hand still wouldn’t move.

  Blood rushed through my system faster, surging like I just injected caffeine straight into it.

  I gasped for breath through the soupy air. It’d been crisp and beautiful only three minutes ago. Carvi made everything go up a good twenty degrees.

  The world around turned into a muggy street and I didn’t have to ask to know Carvi had yanked me onto the astral plane.

  “I have missed you, lea,” he said, licking his lips.

  I followed suit.

  I remembered what we’d done on the astral plane in July.

  If he was that good in the spirit world, I could only imagine how amazing he’d be in the real one.

  “Carvi,” I whispered, “Quil. I can’t. Please don’t push me.”

  The parking lot snapped back around us.

  “Alright,” he said, eyes releasing me.

  I physically sagged against the car, holding my stomach as Carvi’s intensity evaporated on the air and he let Kat go.

  “You tell anyone, and I’ll kill you,” Carvi said simply.

  Kat stiffened the barest bit, face remaining calm. A skill I’ve envied since I started at the SDF (Special Division Force) section of the FBI over a year ago.

  Carvi walked back towards me, my purse in hand. I quick stepped away from the car, the instinct to not be backed up against anything with Carvi nearby too loud to ignore. The trees encroaching on the parking lot were at my back, and that somehow made me feel a little safer.

  “You really should have your weapon on you at all times, lea.” He handed me the purse, keeping my gun. “Anyone could come along at any moment. If I’d been a threat, you couldn’t have gotten your gun from the car fast enough to be useful.”

  Yeah, cuz he wasn’t a threat.

  The corner of his lip curled up in his patented sneer.

  No one has to be psychic to read me. Everything I think flies across my face like neon letters.

  I guess that’s the world’s way of keeping things fair.

  But, then again, Carvi seemed to read my mind on more than one occasion.

  “Can I have my gun, please?” I held out my hand, keeping my eyes plastered on his feet. They’d been recently done and his nails were straight and perfect.

  His pedicure was better than mine. I bit back a giggle. What a stupid thing to notice.

  I looked up with the click of him ejecting the mag

  One hand ran up and down the barrel of the gun obscenely while he checked the bullets.

  I blushed, looking past him to Kat. She already had her phone out, hopefully calling Grant. If there was a killer after me, our boss would want... demand, to know.

  At least, I hoped.

  “Gun?” I jerked my fingers at him.

  “No.” His fingers twiddled over the gun.

  “Excuse you!” My voice finally lost that timid tone as anger flushed fear from my body and I looked up at him. “Stop fondling my weapon and give it back. Now!”

  “Oh, so stern,” Carvi mocked, handing me the gun.

  I made sure not to touch his skin as I took it.

  I’ve gotten way too many disturbing visions from him, and with him in this mood now, I didn’t want to risk it.

  He’s been around long enough to pick up tricks on how to block and send visions, and he’s had some over-sharing issues.

  “Ruin my fun, why don’t you?” he said, handing me the mag. “You know how much I love fondling weapons.”

  Did he never stop?

  My face flamed right back up as I tucked the gun into my purse.

  “You weren’t exaggerating.” Kat snorted, her ear still pressed to the phone.

  “Carvi requires no exaggeration. He is one,” I said.

  “Oh, Grant.” She jerked straighter.

  My heart hiccupped just at the sound of his name.

  “Sir,” Kat said, “Carvi’s up here; he said there’s a hit out on Ariana.”

  She nodded along and Carvi smiled, his ears picking up both sides of the conversation. He reached out for my hand and I jerked back at the first brush of that cool, smooth skin.

  He let me.

  I kept my gaze focused on Kat. If I thought about Carvi too much, I risked a vision just as surely as if I touched him.

  A psychic can only take so much, and I’d seen enough from Carvi’s past to fuel a week of nightmares.

  And I knew he had a hell of a lot worse in his past than what he’d shown me.

  “You really think your Grant can protect you?” Carvi asked.

  I crossed my arms.

  Grant wasn’t my anything besides my boss, but Carvi didn’t need to know that.

  “Oh? What’s that I’m sensing?” Carvi asked. “You two aren’t fighting, are you?”

  I bit my tongue.

  Why did I feel the urge to spill the whole stupid story?

  “How did you hear about this before anyone here?” I asked, keeping my eyes on Kat.

  “I have connections.”

  “No duh. What aren’t you telling me?”

  Why did I have a feeling I already knew?

  “Carvi,” I drew out slowly when he didn’t answer, “am I on someone’s hit list because I helped you in July?”

  He was smirking when I turned to him, his face a perfect mask. I wished I didn’t know him well enough to know he felt guilty and was hiding it.

  “Oh my God!” I said. “You... you...!”

  There were no words strong enough. I turned back to Kat. How much of this exchange was she catching while simultaneously listening to Grant’s instructions?

  “I can’t be sure,” Carvi said softly. “There’s a hit, I flew up the second I heard about it. It may have nothing to do with July, but it did originate in Miami.”

  I set my jaw.

  There was a hit out on me?

  Me?

  Nope, pretty sure I wasn’t even processing that right now.

  “Lea?” Carvi asked.

  Nope. I wasn’t saying anything to make him feel better.

  No matter how much the hurt under his tone pricked at my heart.

  “You’re not happy I’m up here,” he said mentally.

  I flinched with the velvet running over my synapses.

  “Stay out of my head, Carvi.”

  “You’re being awfully ungracious. I did come all the way from Miami to warn you.”

  “My life’s in danger because of you.”

  “We don’t know that. And either way, I am here to protect you. Don’t I get any props for that?”

  “Props? You really keep up with slang, don’t you?”

  Carvi sighed.

  Kat’s eyes flicked to us and she kept nodding. What the quack was goin’ on over there?

  “Next time call or something,” I said out loud. “I mean, wouldn’t that have been faster anyway? Then
you could’ve come up here.”

  He gave me his blank face.

  Whoa! Why did I suddenly have the feeling his motives weren’t entirely guilt-driven?

  “What are you up to?” I asked. “Is this some kind of trick? If it is...”

  “No, I wasn’t lying,” he said mentally. “An associate of mine contacted me after he was offered the job on you. He recognized your name and told me.”

  “Associate? You mean assassin?”

  “Yes. Lea, it originated in Miami, but they know who you are and are coming here. My friend took the contract to try to stall for me, but it went out to a whole group of them. I swear to you, I am not lying about any of this. You know I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  I stared at him.

  “You’re up to something. I can sense it,” I said.

  He closed his eyes, taking a deep whiff of me off the air.

  “Stop!” I help up a hand. “Don’t even think about it.”

  He opened his eyes and fixed them on me, intensity making my knees shake, saying without words exactly what he wanted to do to me.

  My breath fled my lungs, the last bit of air carrying a weak, “Umph.”

  Kat cleared her throat and I jumped.

  “Grant said to get to his place,” Kat said, holding up her phone.

  My heart rate picked up.

  The idea of an assassin didn’t get past my shield of denial, but the idea of having the chance to hang with Grant, in close quarters, while he was protectin’ me?

  That got through.

  He’d have to talk to me if I was hiding out at his house.

  “He’ll met us there,” Kat said. “You’re going into protective custody, and he wants you to work on trying to sense who’s after you, and where the assassins are.”

  I nodded.

  It was a good thing one of us was thinking quickly.

  I seemed to be stuck on thinking about Grant, and trying not to. Someone wanted to kill me, I had to focus on that.

  I really didn’t want to focus on that.

  “If I didn’t know you, I wouldn’t believe you were an FBI agent,” Carvi said.

  Well, that was way outta left field.

  “Excuse me?” I said.

  “You didn’t get your gun out; your friend had to be the one to call your boss for help. Off your game a bit, Lea?”

  That was just too close to what I was thinking for my comfort.

  “And when did the FBI start hiring bar wenches? Not that I’m complaining,” Carvi said, sweeping molten eyes over me again.

  “It’s Halloween. I’m going to a party. And so what? I’m not the tough-as-nails crime fighter. I’m an investigator, remember? I collect evidence, I analyze it, and I try to get visions off crime scenes.”

  “Don’t they teach you to think on your feet, to always be prepared, to lie on cue for when the media questions you about tapping phones?”

  “You’ve been watching too much TV,” I said. “The NSA are the ones who tap phones.”

  “He also got that always be prepared part of that from the boy scouts,” Kat said.

  “Any other weapons?” Carvi asked, face suddenly serious, like someone hit the freaking emotion-switch.

  “Yeah, I got my collapsible Uzi hidden under this skirt.” I gestured down to the sticking out green and black bottom of my costume. It barely covered the frilly black shorts under it, and there was no way there was anything but me and my bra under the rib-squishing, boob-enhancing top.

  Carvi’s eyes slithered down to the skirt in question and I blushed down to my bare toes.

  That’s what I got for being sassy.

  “There are areas a weapon could be concealed.” His gaze slid up me like a physical brush of silk. I wrapped my arms around myself and held my ground through sheer stubbornness. “I knew a concubine who killed her emperor by hiding a knife...”

  “Okay!” I held up my hands.

  Never try to out-sass a dirty minded vamp. You’ll lose.

  “I got it.” I got it so much I needed a hot shower to get it off. “Thanks for the warning. See, I’m being gracious now. And we’re going to Grant’s, so I’ll be safe.”

  I grinned my giant, stupid anxious grin.

  Carvi smiled back.

  Crap on a cracker! I knew it wouldn’t be that easy to get rid of him.

  “Lea. Lea.” Carvi shook his head. “I’m not letting you out of my sight until this is handled.” He fastened his eyes to mine. “You’re coming with me.”

  I took a step back, heart racing with his mental growl.

  “Hey,” Kat said. “Let’s go.”

  “Carvi, I-” I started mentally.

  “This isn’t a debate,” he cut me off. “I’ve told you before, psychics are rare. I’m not letting you get killed; it would be a waste. Let me make this clear. I’m not asking you, lea. You are coming with me.”

  “Grant won’t like this. You...” I trailed off, taking another step back.

  Even if I wasn’t in heels, I wouldn’t have been able to outrun him.

  “Carvi, I can’t just...” I said, licking my lips. “If you take me, Grant’s gonna be pissed. We have a deal, Carvi. You don’t want to pit yourself against the FBI. Work with us. You can come with us-”

  “Oh, I may come with you. Thank-you ever so much.”

  Kat creased her forehead as she walked up to us.

  “Hasn’t anyone ever told you it’s rude to talk in front of someone when they can’t understand you?” She returned Carvi’s smile with a brilliant one of her own. “So, you coming with us?”

  “What are you doing?” Carvi asked, voice as nonthreatening as a fuzzy kitten.

  It took me a moment to realize he was talking to Kat. I looked down and saw her fingers flying over her phone.

  “I’m texting Len to tell him we won’t make it to set up the party.”

  “And to tell him why?”

  “Of course.”

  My eyes bounced between the two. They were having their own little private conversation under the pleasant smiles. Not telepathic words like me and Carvi, but communication all the same.

  “Of course,” Carvi mimicked. “You tell Len, he tells Aquila, and Aquila comes to whisk his girl out of my threatening arms.”

  Kat hit send and tucked the phone away. “If you’re helping us, I’m sure Quil won’t mind you being up here.”

  “He wou-”

  “Okay!” I slashed my arms in front of me. “No more. You two are done with the little word games. Carvi, you want to help, great. Keep your hands to yourself, and we’ll find you some clothes, and I’ll talk to Quil about you being up here, and it’ll be fine.”

  I opened the car door.

  “You’re going with me,” Carvi said.

  “Then get in,” I said.

  He smirked.

  I didn’t have to be psychic to know what was coming next.

  I already knew he meant it when he said he wasn’t asking.

  His eyes flashed and he grinned, showing fang.

  He blurred the few feet I’d put between us and grabbed my arms in a vice grip. I was face to face with him with my heels dangling inches over the pavement by the time my brain caught up.

  “Carvi! Don’t!” I said.

  Kat’s voice came from behind, obviously talkin’ to someone on the phone again. Probably callin’ up Grant. She knew better than to try to stop a determined vamp.

  I’m not always that smart.

  I jerked my knee up into his hanging genitalia. He twitched and my knee met solid thigh muscle.

  “Now, now,” he purred, “you’re the one that has problems with foreplay in public.”

  He swept my legs up Rhet Butler style (though I’m pretty sure Scarlet never had a purse holding about ten pounds of stuff, including a gun, squished between her and Rhet) and cuddled me into his chest. My cheek met smooth, cool muscle and I bit my lip to keep from nuzzling it.

  He was trying to save me; that was swee
t, that was.... No, No, No! I loved Quil. And he loved me. And Carvi already made it perfectly clear he didn’t. He wanted to screw me. That was all.

  Carvi could take me, but he couldn’t take me.

  Carvi’s legs twitched and suddenly the world was a nauseating blur of branches as he ran us into the line of trees beyond the club’s parking lot.

  I barely heard Kat shout after us before we were going too fast for me to hear anything but the rushing of wind past my ears.

  I held onto Carvi’s neck, squishing myself into him as we burst out onto a sidewalk.

  It wasn’t necessary, he wouldn’t have dropped me even if he’d had me swinging by an ankle, but it made me feel more secure.

  We ran across the wide street, not nearly fast enough for people not to notice.

  But something about the lack of people shouting around us told me Carvi had some kind of magical way of staying under their perception.

  He zipped through trees and into Centennial Park like he had a mental navigation system telling him to zig here and zag there.

  My head rested in the smooth curve where his neck and shoulder met and I watched the world of green and brown swirl by. Wind slapped my face, freezing skin to muscles.

  It was exhilarating!

  “Ugggh,” I grunted as Carvi slammed to a stop in a back parking lot with signs all over saying employee parking only. My stomach lurched forward and sprang back when it realized we’d stopped. My brain took another second to find its way home, and by then Carvi had set me on my feet.

  “One moment.” He got on his knees and reached under a close bush, pulling a set of keys out.

  He hit the button on the keys and the car dinged as it unlocked.

  Carvi pulled clothes out of the front seat and I averted my eyes as he wiggled back into his jeans and pulled on a dark gold polo shirt the exact same shade as his eyes. Loafers without socks followed.

  It was his ‘I’m a harmless soccer dad’ look, the one he could never quite pull off even if he didn’t have dyed, spiked up hair.

  “Looks like I’m not the only one dressing up for Halloween,” I said as I pulled out my phone.

  He plucked the phone from my hands.

  “Hey!” I said.

  “No cell phones. They have GPS trackers,” Carvi said as he flung it.

  It sailed far out of the parking lot, probably hitting somewhere near the Parthenon clear down the way in the park.