Flame Unleashed (Hell to Pay)

by David, Jillian

  “To what extent?” Ruth broke her silence. Her cool but sensual voice caught his attention like someone grabbing his balls.

  Damn, but he wanted to focus on the fork sliding over her lips, not genealogy work. “I like to know what my daughter’s family is up to, to know that my progeny carries on successfully. It also helps that they have a secret benefactor now and then, as the situation presents itself.”

  “Presents itself?” Her tapered fingertip tracing the rim of the juice glass challenged him to remain calm.

  “Well, not many in my extended family had a lot of money. But after hundreds of years of compounded interest, I, of course, have plenty. If a hardworking kid dreams of going to college or needs help creating a better life, he or she might suddenly find himself or herself the recipient of grants or donations. There’s a whole legend in the Turcot family about a ghostly force that helps deserving people when they are most desperate.”

  “That’s you? Turcot?”

  “Yes, that’s my old name before I became Indebted. Now I’m the Turcot ghost, occasionally saving the day by sprinkling family members with a little money.”

  “You don’t feel you’re interfering?”

  She pulled apart a buttermilk biscuit, neatly popping small pieces into her mouth. He employed immense willpower not to fixate on her full lips as she chewed.

  “Odie?” she said, arching an eyebrow.

  Barnaby also looked up at Odie with a bemused smile.

  The back of Odie’s neck fired up like a guilty schoolboy. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been embarrassed. Or infatuated.

  He swallowed a bite, but the food almost didn’t pass through his tight throat. “No, it’s not interference. I only give a gentle nudge in the right direction.”

  “Don’t you feel strange looking up your long-lost family members, so many years removed?” she said.

  Without that connection, he’d have long since become lost, mired in guilt, purposeless.

  “Not at all. It keeps me connected to the mundane world, my roots, my own humanity. Why? Don’t you know about your progeny?”

  “No, that family is long gone.”

  Silence descended until Barnaby set down his fork and faced Odie. “Any other projects you’re working on? You’ve always been one of the more industrious Indebted not only with philanthropy for your family, but also with your new ideas.”

  Odie had enjoyed discussing emerging theories and science with Barnaby over the 200-odd years they had known each other. They’d debated Madame Curie’s research, motorized vehicles, space travel, and everything in between.

  But Odie had never told anyone about his biggest theory.

  For more than 200 years, he had quietly concentrated his rage, his all-consuming desire on eliminating Jerahmeel, to exact his revenge for the suffering rained down on Odie and his family. But Odie had lacked all of the information and thus never had a viable plan.

  Until recently.

  Now he knew how to destroy Jerahmeel and release all of the Indebted from their contracts. Freedom from their never-ending murderous existences.

  Take Ruth, for example. A beautiful woman should never have to exist as this kind of slave, killing on demand and destroying her kind soul—one murdered human life at a time.

  He speared a piece of Andouille sausage, savoring the pop of spicy meat as he chewed, stalling for time. But the savory juices clashed with the sour taste his knowledge gave him. Time to spill the beans, as they said, and start exploring the viability of this plan.

  “Barnaby. Ruth. How badly do you hate Jerahmeel? How much do you hate the kills, the loss of your humanity?” He dropped the question like a lead weight. “Was the sacrifice you made worth it, as now, centuries later, everyone you loved has departed this Earth and left you here? Doing this?”

  Agape, Barnaby stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “My God, what have you done?” The color drained out of his already pale face. His arthritic knuckles whitened as he gripped the table edge. He looked like a man struggling to remain upright. Maybe Odie had made a grave miscalculation.

  “What are you doing? Stop upsetting him!” Ruth jumped up and stood next to Barnaby, faster than her chair could clatter to the ground. She checked his pulse and soothed him. Mon dieu, she was a gloriously protective lioness. Odie wanted that concerned gaze on him. Soon.

  “What are you talking about?” Barnaby asked.

  “Anyone can find the information, if they look hard enough,” Odie said. “I’ve searched for a solution as long as I can remember. Current technology has helped my research. I recently put all of the pieces together. You know how much I want to destroy Jerahmeel. His annihilation is all I’ve ever desired, since I’ve become Indebted. I take it you’ve been privy to the secret, old friend, but perhaps ... never told anyone?”

  “There’s no reason to tell. What you’re suggesting is impossible. It’s insanity to consider such a thing.”

  “What secret? Barnaby, what’s going on?” Ruth’s gold-glinting eyes darkened to black as her cheeks flushed. “Stop scaring him! It’s bad for his heart.”

  “No, my health doesn’t matter. It’s all right, dear.” Barnaby’s gnarled hand shook as he patted her on the arm. “Well, you’ve opened the door. So go on, Odie. Share what you know. But do so at your own risk.”

  Odie rolled his hands into fists. “I know how to get to Jerahmeel. To his lair. With some help, I believe I can destroy him.” Mon dieu, if they would only believe him.

  “Destroy him?” Ruth whispered, leaning forward, palms on the table, color high on her sculpted cheekbones.

  “Is this why you invited me to New Orleans?” Barnaby’s voice cracked.

  Odie studied the fine wood grain before him. “Only partially. I did want to see you before ...”

  “Before I die?” Barnaby said.

  The furious look Ruth shot Odie made molten lava seem chilly.

  He flinched. “My apologies, but yes. I also wanted to discuss my plan with the one man who might have more insight into this Jerahmeel problem than I do.”

  Ruth’s harsh intake of air split the tension in the room. “Jerahmeel problem? Like it’s an equation to work out? An irritating thorn to remove? Are you kidding me? He rules our lives, owns our souls. It’s not a problem to be solved. It’s hell.”

  “Look. With help, I do believe I can destroy him.” He uncurled his hands and turned them palms up. He didn’t want to hope—couldn’t hope—that they would help him. But some support would be welcome.

  “You believe? Don’t you know for sure?” Ruth whispered.

  “I’m not sure. But if it works, you could be free of this curse. We all could be free.”

  Chapter 4

  Free? No more servitude to the devil? No more wishing that the next kill would be Ruth’s last? Holy hell, wasn’t that what she had wanted all along? Her head spun with possibilities and raw hope.

  “You said you believe you can destroy him.” Barnaby folded his napkin and pushed the plate forward. “Please elaborate.”

  At his nod, Ruth righted her chair and sat back down. She watched Barnaby while also studying the man across from her. Odie didn’t appear unhinged. As a matter of fact, the handsome man appeared calm and collected. But the idea that an Indebted could destroy Jerahmeel and break the curse for all of them? Pure madness.

  But an intriguing idea nevertheless.

  Odie took a gulp of coffee and set the cup down with a too loud clink. “As you may know, there are vortices in this world that cannot be fully explained. Places like Mount Fuji in Japan, Mount Shasta in northern California, even Glastonbury in your beloved England. These vortices are more than destinations for crystal-worshipping oddballs. They have a real purpose: Jerahmeel.”

  “I don’t understand,” she said.

  “These vortices don’t exist for people to ascend to a higher plane of existence or board the mother ship. These are portals to Jerahmeel’s domain, his lair. Enter any one of t
hese sites and you will find our boss.”

  Her heart skidded a beat. “Truly?”

  He rubbed the trim hair on his jaw. “Research suggests it’s true.”

  “Suggests?”

  “I believe it’s true.”

  When he raised his dark eyebrows and shrugged, her knees went to jelly and she almost believed him. Exactly like she’d trusted another handsome man years ago.

  Trust. Odie hadn’t earned hers, not yet and possibly never. Fine, she’d play along with his insane theories for now, if for no other reason than to prove that he was lying.

  “Let’s presume for a moment that you’re correct. How does this help us?” she asked.

  “Odie, don’t answer that,” Barnaby snapped. His watery blue stare locked on to Odie with an intensity Ruth had never seen before.

  “I’m sorry, my old friend, but others need to know the solution. If we can get to Jerahmeel at his lair and overpower him, he theoretically can be destroyed.”

  “Lair?” Ruth asked.

  Odie rubbed his chin. “More like portal to hell, to be accurate.”

  She bit her lip as a sinking feeling hit her in the midsection. “So, ‘if’? ‘Theoretically’? ‘We’? May I presume the risk is substantial?”

  “That presumption is logical, madame.”

  “Dear God, Odilon. You cannot actually suggest walking through the gates of hell and attacking him.” Barnaby’s voice quavered and cracked.

  “Possibly. But there is no other alternative. What he’s made me do to my family ... I won’t be a slave anymore. I hate killing mortals, especially to serve a master with an insatiable appetite. As our kind dwindles without replacements, the urge to kill will be so bad, I’ll have to murder every day just to keep him fed.” He squared his broad frame to Ruth. “Don’t you hate what you’re forced to do every week? Don’t you want to be free of this?”

  “Of course I hate it, but not enough to commit suicide. Or worse. What do you think Jerahmeel will do if he discovers we’re trying to destroy him? Simply let us go? Kill us quickly? No. He needs us to continue working for him.” She studied him. “Why now, Odie? Why not 100 years ago? Why not 100 years in the future?”

  “Why not before? I didn’t have all the pieces of the puzzle figured out. Why not in 100 years? Because Jerahmeel’s at a weak point. He’s unable to make more Indebted because his power has waned for the last century. I’m not certain if it’s because he’s about to be replaced or if it’s a temporary weakness. Doesn’t matter. I want to take advantage of the opportunity before I attract too much attention from him and incur his wrath.”

  On instinct, she glanced over her shoulder. “Some of us have attracted too much of his interest as it is.”

  “What do you mean?” Odie leaned forward, his entire frame tense.

  The bites of biscuit churned in her belly. She didn’t want to talk about Jerahmeel. Quite the opposite.

  Barnaby rubbed his bald head, fatigue lining his face. “Ruth has a bit of an admirer in Jerahmeel.”

  “What?” Odie gaped. “Impossible. Jerahmeel only admires himself.”

  She squirmed beneath the unwanted attention, preferring to disappear. However, that didn’t appear likely to happen any time soon. “It’s true. Jerahmeel shows up at some of my kills and kind of ... flirts ... with me.” The act of speaking the words made her insides knot again.

  “Flirts?” Odie’s brows drew together as his eyes darkened.

  “He likes to, um, hang out with me. Right after I perform a kill,” she mumbled, staring at the polished tabletop.

  A muscle in his jaw jumped. “What?”

  “He usually arrives right after I’ve completed the job. I believe the knife signals my location.”

  “And he wants ...?”

  “More than I’ll ever give him.”

  Odie snorted.

  Face burning, she glanced at Barnaby. He nodded for her to continue.

  She whispered. “He’s made some ... propositions.”

  Odie banged his fist on the table with a loud crack. “Sick doesn’t start to describe his behavior. How about unholy and disgusting?”

  Barnaby held up his hands. “Simmer down, my friend.”

  She cringed beneath the waves of anger blasting across the table. Odie had gone from rakishly genteel to unhinged in the space of two seconds. The fabric on his denim shirt strained over tense muscles. Tense cords in his neck framed his rapid pulse.

  Barnaby rubbed his forehead. “That’s why Ruth keeps a low profile. Disguises herself, tries to kill efficiently and quietly. It helps, but only to a certain extent. He finds her most of the time. He’s fixated.”

  “I’ve never heard of Jerahmeel acting this way before,” Odie said.

  “Neither have I.”

  “We might be able to use that interest in her to our advantage.”

  Irritation made her scalp crawl. “I’m still right here.”

  “Oh, I know, chère. We haven’t forgotten you. And what you can bring to the table.” When Odie smiled, his lips curved upward, but the emotion never reached his eyes.

  “No!” Barnaby shouted.

  “Yes. This could be the key.” No longer sensual, Odie’s gaze now felt more like an evaluation. And he found her lacking. “You still live in Portland?”

  “Yes, why?” Dread hung like a cold hand on the back of her neck.

  “That’s how he gets to you so easily. Mount Shasta and Mount Hood are connected vortices. I bet his main lair is Shasta. Going a longer distance takes much more energy. By living in Portland, you’ve made it very convenient for him to check in on you. A short commute, as it were.”

  She rubbed at goose bumps that rose on her arms. All these years, she’d been playing right into Jerahmeel’s hands.

  Odie jumped up. “But don’t you see? His unnatural interest in you—that’s our in.”

  “No, it’s not.” Icy fear spiked through her arms and legs. Handsome or not, she didn’t like where his thoughts were headed.

  “You’re the bait.”

  Damn it, if his rakish grin didn’t melt her insides.

  But how could he even propose such an idea and hope that she would go along with it? By using charm to convince her to join him. Oh God, she was being used. Yet again.

  Anger made her hands shake until she clasped them in her lap. “This conversation needs to end. Don’t involve me. What you’re suggesting is worse than suicide.”

  “What could be worse than that?” Odie asked.

  A shudder rattled up her spine. “What Jerahmeel proposes for us to become. Together. For eternity.”

  “You mean?”

  “Yes. Forever. With that thing.”

  “Unacceptable. Even more reason to get rid of him.”

  She slapped a palm on the tabletop, surprising even herself. “Stop. Stop it! I would rather attempt to escape Jerahmeel’s clutches by getting the Meaningful Kill than try a ridiculous scheme with a high probability of failure and worse.”

  Barnaby bowed his head into his hand, then squinted at Odie. “This plan of yours is but a dream, my boy. Let it go. Other Indebted have reached similar conclusions. What you don’t know is that they have tried and failed. When they failed, they lost whatever free will and happiness was left to them. Their eternal torment made this standard Indebted existence look like an island vacation. Your solution is impossible. The consequences of failure are worse than deadly. I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

  Odie slumped in the chair, the very picture of defeat. If it weren’t for the glint remaining in his eyes, Ruth might have bought the act.

  A lock of wavy hair the color of black coffee fell forward over his brow. She fought the urge to smooth that hair back. How would his skin feel beneath her fingers? And how could she think about his hair during a conversation like this?

  After 150 years of self-induced celibacy, her hormones had gone off kilter. Maybe it was because he was Indebted. Or maybe the part of her that craved intimacy had been
hidden for too long. Whatever had her attention, she didn’t need the distraction right now.

  He took another bite of sausage and eggs, and damn it if Ruth couldn’t stop staring at the oil shining on his lower lip. So much for self-control.

  Odie dabbed at his mouth with the napkin. “Well, maybe later down the road then? Forgive me for mentioning anything and spoiling your meal. Let’s enjoy the day.” Although his words conveyed concession, his passion to destroy Jerahmeel spoke otherwise. He fairly vibrated with barely contained, righteous indignation, even now.

  She wouldn’t bring up his plans again. No need to add more fuel to the fire of Odie’s interest. Or Jerahmeel’s.

  Odie sipped the coffee as they finished their brunch. What small appetite she typically possessed had left her, and she pushed the food around on her plate as she glanced at the man sitting across from her.

  For his part, Odie chatted with Barnaby about events from hundreds of years ago and their adventures together. Light, harmless conversation. As if the topic of the ultimate destruction of evil in this world had never arisen.

  So why did guilt crawl up her neck?

  Because she wanted the safe option. She wanted to try to get the Meaningful Kill herself and be done with her personal hell, once and for all. To consider Odie’s plan risked too much. Besides, Barnaby made it obvious that such a plan had failed in the past. Surely, it would be foolish to try again.

  Guilt prickled her skin again. What about all the other Indebted? All of the mortal victims?

  Damn her compassion.

  Okay, fine. Perhaps Jerahmeel could be defeated, but she wasn’t the person to do it. All she wanted these days was to avoid Jerahmeel’s unnatural attention—do her job and get on with life.

  What life?

  What would she do when Barnaby was gone? What purpose did she have? Could she simply get another job? Helping another ... what? Human? Indebted?

  No former Indebted was elderly at this time. Any other ex-Indebted had departed this Earth centuries ago.

  Assisting mortals no longer piqued her interest as it had for the past century.

  Maybe some kind of mission work? She could hunt evil mortals while helping innocents. The very definition of conflict of interest.