Ronan and I regarded each other silently until he spun on his heels. “I’ll dump the body.” He snatched the Scrambler’s gun, jammed the weapon into his coat pocket. “Pack a bag for several days.”
“Excuse me.” Slack-jawed again, I stared at his back. “Why?” I needed answers before I obeyed a stranger, connection or not, dead man notwithstanding.
Ronan ceased fumbling with the body and rose to look down on me from his towering height. “You’ve been outed, and you’re wanted by…people who’ll go to any extreme to bag your ass and lock you up forever.” He thrummed his fingers against his thigh, nudged the dead psychic with a booted foot. “He works for them, and a shitload of bounty hunters aren’t far behind.”
My mind reeled as I wrapped it around this eye-opener. Who wanted a lucky charm maker, college art student so badly? Rubbing my ear, I gawked at Ronan. “Why me?”
“They know you have the powers of an ancient sorcerer.”
I waved my hand in front of my face and uttered a short relieved laugh. “I’m not…no one—” My heart plummeted toward my stomach. “What’re you talking about? Sorcerers died off with the dinosaurs.”
He scrubbed his hand over his face, giving me a look eager to melt skin. “Can you manipulate mind, matter, and other kinds of energy? Are you affected by strange things, bad luck, good luck?”
Face growing hot, I plucked at a loose thread on my new fashionista blouse. “How did you know?”
“Your father ratted you out to my fucking father,” Ronan spat out. “We’re both wanted.” He grabbed my bare arm in a vise grip. “Now shift your ass in gear.” He propelled me in the direction of my bedroom, giving a final prod on my lower back. “Pack or not. Either way, you’re coming with me.”
“Bastard,” I muttered. My ass still in park, I turned. “Why the hell would my father tell lies about me? He doesn’t know anything about me. You’re freaking delusional.” I snorted. “Why’re you here and why’re we both wanted? And who elected you puppet-master?” Hands on my hips, I glowered at him so hard my face practically pinched into place.
“Look, we don’t have time for this. I’ll explain it later. I won’t hurt you, but if they snag you, you’re screwed. You’ll wish you were dead. The man they work for will do a helluva lot worse than kill you.” He kicked at the downed intruder. His impenetrable facemask descended again. “Move it or I’ll drag you out.”
Apprehension gnawed at my usual confidence. Under the strain of an emotional kaleidoscope, I trudged toward my bedroom, snagging my stun gun off the bombe chest. I knew what being outed meant. Stranger or not, Ronan was right. I had to run. I couldn’t risk getting caught by the authorities, or anyone for that matter.
I stopped in my bedroom doorway, faced him. He watched me, his brooding face easier to read than earlier. “Where are we going?”
“Safe house near Los Gatos.”
The ritzy, high-rent town bordering San Jose sat along the nearby foothills, close enough to escape into the familiar if I needed to. “Safe for whom? You or me?”
“Both.”
“You’ll tell me everything?” My stubby fingers latched on to the door molding, needing to touch something normal. He nodded. “What about…how did…do you know what I did to him?” I waved a shaky hand at the Scrambler.
“Take two minutes to pack a few things. We’ll talk later.” He returned to hiding the dead man as if he taught body snatching for fun.
Thoughtful, I zoomed into flight mode.
My father had gone Benedict Arnold on me in the worst way, and I wasn’t going to take it sitting on my rear, losing my freedom, or my life.
I secured the alarm behind me. Ronan carried my two overstuffed bags of jumbled clothes and whatnot. I left out bowls of water and dry cat food—enough for two weeks if the furballs didn’t stuff themselves the first day and kick off from bloat—and both litter boxes filled for Cody and Cleo.
Ronan hadn’t divulged what he’d done with the Scrambler’s body. Honestly, I preferred to remain clueless about that aspect of my night from hell. I wasn’t sure how to deal with my first accidental kill, so I buried it, knowing it would haunt me forever.
His voice butted into my thoughts. “Where’s your car?” We stepped onto the elevator and he jabbed the first level casino button.
I studied the earthtone granite tiles. The reek of pot-laced cigarette smoke lingered, and I scrunched my nose to avoid inhaling it. “Where’s your car?” The elevator dove to the first floor casino level.
He sneered. “I’m driving on a run-flat.”
My head snapped up. “That was you? You were tailing me earlier?” I’d sensed someone following me from the hospital after making sure dipshit Michael was okay. At least until we passed Thirteenth Street and he’d popped a tire.
That perpetual scowl froze on Ronan’s face. His sour lemon features didn’t detract from his rugged handsomeness. He appeared menacing, a bar bouncer you’d evade at first until you got a tip-off at what lay underneath. Right now, frustration with a hint of fear played along the chiseled planes of his tan face.
The elevator dinged, the doors slid open, and I walked through the opening, staring at the slate tile floor. I pointed toward the door at the opposite end of the hallway. “My car’s in the resident garage.”
“We’re not taking your car. Too obvious.”
“I thought—”
“Try not to think. It’s not working for you right now.”
Slowing, I gave his backside a dirty look. “Screw you, Ronan Riley.” I wavered at the first row of dollar slots. He kept on walking with a silent, lethal grace that had part of me dying to give chase. His nice firm ass was so worth it.
Rainbow lights sprayed the casino. Spinning wheels, videos, and bells created a symphony of noise. I spun out of Ronan’s sight, jogged to my favorite machine. As usual, the thirteen-thirteen machine was unoccupied. I squeezed between two older women with identical brunette dye-jobs wearing polyester pantsuits differing from blue to purple floral working the flanking slots. Ugh, I hoped that wasn’t me in thirty years. I didn’t do floral well.
I dug a Player’s card out of my rear pocket and stuck it into the card slot. The fifty-credit balance registered. Anonymous and transferable cash-in-a-card after an automatic flat-rate tax hit on any winnings. Usually I waved my smartphone at the machine, but I didn’t want this transaction traceable. As I punched the triple play button, Ronan grabbed my wrist, dwarfing half my lower arm in his hand.
“What are you doing?” He mashed his teeth.
Red, white, and blue sevens stopped on my machine’s winning line. The woman to the right squealed. Digital bells clanged. Lights above the bank of dollar slots blinked in rapid succession, glints of red bouncing off the chrome and plastics.
“Lookie, sweetheart, I won!” I said in my best Southern belle twang. I eased my wrist from his grasp, jumped up and down, clapping.
Ronan’s mouth gaped like a hungry tax man. “You just won twenty grand.”
The two women gushed over the jackpot I’d risked my luck to win. Seriously, it was the biggest jackpot I’d ever won. I merely expected to win a thousand credits for emergencies. I never let myself win larger jackpots. I did maintain some morals and personal rules when manipulating my telekinesis.
Ronan plucked the card out of the machine and stuck it in my back pocket. His fingers lingered a few seconds too long before he whisked his hand away. I couldn’t halt the bizarre desire trickling into my veins. Add to To-Do list: therapy.
“Time to go, babe,” he drawled, matching my phony accent. He leaned down and whispered, “Move it” nastily in my ear, grabbed my hand and hefted my bags over his shoulder.
His long-legged stride forced me to skip to keep pace. “Slow down! I didn’t drink my EnerRizer this morning.” I knew I’d regret not replacing my supply of rise and shine instant energy in a bottle.
“Shut. It.” Ronan’s stride revved up as we traversed the midnight Friday casino crowd.
/>
I dropped my voice to a whisper. “Hey, cut the ’tude. I can’t go on the run without cash. How much cash do you have shoved up your ass for this jaunt to Insanity?”
We flew by the entrance to the Licensed Escort wing designated by a swish of ruby lips across an ebony door. Wildly popular, Licensed Escorts were NUW’s legalized slant on prostitution. I tended to avoid that part of the entertainment complex. Ronan did a double take, slowing, his head spinning like the Exorcist girl.
“What’s wrong?” My right pinkie spasmed. “What the what?” I muttered under my breath. Couldn’t I skid through the night without more bad luck dumped on me?
“We’ve been tagged by another bounty hunter.” Ronan released my hand and slipped on a pair of black leather gloves he’d snared from a mysterious pocket in his jacket’s interior. “If you have gloves, put them on.”
“Hell. Lo. It’s California.” I narrowed my eyes at his worn gloves. “You came prepared for a crime spree? Are you a prophet or just a kidnapper?”
Ronan shouldered me behind a jungle of fake trees and bushes toward a tropical paradise. “Can you get us out of here?”
“What? You’re asking me to think?” Sarcasm dripped venom from my tongue. “I thought you knew what you were doing.”
I had much to learn from Ronan, and it pained me to admit that I was growing to like him. Don’t ask my love-struck eyes. His aura gave off an energy that frolicked nicely with mine. Normally, when I absorbed energy, it was barely perceptible, rarely identifiable. Even though it enhanced my aura, I’d never felt other people’s auras. Mine was always too dominant. His aura I definitely felt, warm and prickly at once. Fear also prevented me from trying anything stupid on him. I might be blonde with three-quarters of an art degree, but I wasn’t dumb.
“You know the casino.” He glowered at me.
I peered through the fake jungle and spotted the man. “Slim guy, navy suit recalled by the ’50s? Dirty blond? Just came out of the escort wing.” Rubbing his bulging crotch. I screwed up my face.
Ronan grunted something akin to a yes. He hovered behind me, peering through the fake branches I’d spread to form a peephole. “Is there an exit behind the waterfall?”
“Probably, but—” I paused. We’d end up on the frontline of a chase. “Lure him closer. Let’s knock him out.” I watched the bounty hunter in an aisle of electronic bingo machines. He spun in a slow circle, scanning the thinning casino crowd.
“Like you did to the guy upstairs?”
“Yes.” I almost missed the incredulous scorn lacing Ronan’s voice. The impact of his words smacked me upside the head. “I didn’t mean to kill him.” I blanched, forcing the memory aside. Dropping the fern branches, I pivoted on my heels. Ronan stepped back, probably afraid I’d whack him too. “I meant knock him out.”
“Won’t work.” Ronan investigated the granite boulders bordering a garden of soaring pampas grass, dense enough to hide in for days. The phony sea breeze fluttered a palm frond at my head. I smacked at it, snagged my foot on a silken vine, knocking down a red parrot. It thumped on Ronan’s foot and he booted the bird toward the wafting pampas grass, where it landed with a loud thwack.
I gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Why won’t it work? I can control it.” In dismay, I peered at the upside down bird.
Ronan stepped behind the waterfall. Crouching, I inched toward him into a utility room off a corridor leading to the rear of the building.
“I’m doing it,” I said, hands on my hips.
He scrutinized my face, but I masked it, stealing a cue from him.
“Two telekinetic sorcerers negate one another when together.”
I rolled my eyes. “I think not. Didn’t I just win twenty grand? Way I see it, if you really are a sorcerer, you didn’t negate me. You probably boosted my energy.” Okay, I exaggerated since I wasn’t absorbing his energy at all even though I felt his aura, but the idea seemed plausible in this new universe of the weird.
Ronan groaned, indecision painting his face as if he struggled with bad information about this negation thing. Suddenly the air wavered around him, streaming into a thin opalescent rope. The rope shot toward the parrot, and the bird rose a foot off the floor, then plopped back down. “You negate me.” His eyes had gone dark. “I tried to shoot the bird into the waterfall.”
“I’m special, aren’t I?” A smirk might have been overkill so he received my beauty contestant smile.
“Yeah, something like that.” Ronan curled his arm around my waist, plastering me to his side. His hard body pressed against mine, and I shivered with that puzzling familiar awareness.
I inhaled his exotic spice on leather, filled my lungs with the intoxicating cologne. His aura stirred around mine, creating a cocoon effect. My heart pulsed in the most bewildering way I’d ever experienced. Cripes, I don’t need my hormones to rampage. “Umm…dude…what’re you doing?”
“He’s nearing,” he said, his mouth close to my ear. “Pretend we’re hooking up.”
My aura swelled and panic smashed my warm tinglies into smithereens.
“Calm it, Aria.” Ronan’s arm tightened on my waist. The heat of his chest pressed into my cheek. “You’ll off him if negation doesn’t affect you. It’s probably why you killed the other guy, if you absorb energy to boost your own.” His breath wafted my hair against my temple. “Give me your stun gun.”
All I’d experienced in the last hour scared the bejeezus out of me. More than anything, I wanted freedom to discover who and what I was without mercenaries tailing me.
Ronan began patting me down. He brushed the sides of my breasts, my nipples stiffened, jutting through my thin cotton T-shirt.
“Did you earn a cop badge in the last two minutes?” Face flushed, I pulled the gun out of my jacket pocket before he caused further harm to my rebellious hormonal system.
He snatched it and released me. “Stand behind me.”
“You have a plan?” I scooted behind him.
His body obscured my view of everything except his back, broad shoulders, and amazing firm and round ass. “Go along with me.” Ronan hid the weapon in his coat pocket.
Faux foliage shifted, rustled. Leisure Suit Larry had breached our hideout. My heart thudded against my chest.
I heard a nasally voice. “What’s up, kid?”
“Murph,” Ronan greeted, an edge of iron to his tone.
“You found her.” Murph rubbed his hands together.
“I’m taking her back.” Ronan shifted from one foot to the other, his spine arrow straight.
Say what? Aural energy escaped me, cracked heads with Ronan’s energy. Tangled telekinetic energy pulsed around us, smacking of electrical wires twisting in a windstorm.
“Come on, man,” Murph whined. “You don’t need the five mil bounty.”
My mouth mimicked a flycatcher. I quickly smacked it shut. Who’d have ever thunk lowly telekinetic Aria Elle Walker was worth five million dollars? Dead or alive?
Murph took two steps closer. Stale smoke clung to his clothes. My nose crinkled, and I longed to bury my face in Ronan’s back, but I fought the urge to touch the potential traitor, kidnapper, and hormone charmer.
“Stand down, Murph.” Ronan pulled his hand from his pocket and eased it toward his hidden shoulder holster. “She’s my take.”
“Let’s split the dough. No one’d be the wiser.”
Would I have to knock them both out? “Hey, Murph?” I called from behind Ronan. “Guess what?”
“Shut it, bitch,” Ronan warned.
I gnashed my mouth. He better be acting, or else I’d give his ass the smackdown to Australia. I needed a few more minutes to absorb energy from around me to recharge my brain waves. Not sure what Ronan was up to, I wanted my own escape route. “Murph? How bad do you want the bounty?” I scooted to the left, remaining halfway shielded behind Ronan.
Murph halted in the doorway of the utility room. The tinkling waterfall’s splashes drowned our voices in the casino beyond.
Grinning, he stroked his chin, displaying a gappy set of tobacco-stained teeth. A weapon hung loosely in his other hand. “Darlin’, if you only knew. Now you gonna come with me willingly?”
The heat of his gaze felt like slimy hands on my boobs. I angled my head, eyeing him critically. “Do I look stupid?”
“Dial it down.” Ronan stepped in front of me again. I moved along with him, my sight glued on Murph.
The unmistakable cocking of a gun hammer clicked. The gun engulfed in Murph’s hand moved into position, aimed at Ronan’s head. A muffled shot exploded in the air. It was barely long enough.
Relying upon my focusizer, I invoked my telekinesis, sending out an electrical vibration. Breathing in deeply, I focused on the path of the bullet. It zoomed above our heads, so close the hairs rose on the top of my scalp. A ceiling tile popped behind me after I deflected the bullet’s course. My aura lashed out and connected with the energy Murph emitted. He slumped to his knees, arms dangling at his sides. A wet stain darkened the front of his pants as his bladder released.
In one swift movement, Ronan aimed and shot Murph point-blank between the eyes. Even with a silencer, the shot boomed in my ears. Blood oozed out the center of Murph’s forehead, dripped down his hawk nose.
The heavy thump of his body on the glossy, red cement floor obscured the hiss of tropical white noise and the screaming in my head. My legs became seaweed, dumping me on the floor near Murph. I stretched forward and yakked my quesadilla dinner into a bucket in the corner. My stomach heaved until I expelled the entire ghastly night.
“Stay hidden.” Ronan shoved my stun gun in my curled hand.
The barbarian of Hidden Bodies ’R’ Us went to town without sparing me a second thought. By the time my clarity resurfaced, he’d stashed Murph’s body in the fake fauna and kneeled beside me.
Myths & Magic: A Science Fiction and Fantasy Collection Page 150
