Flame Unleashed (Hell to Pay)

by David, Jillian

  “Of course.” He winked.

  They filed out into an alcove at the end of the corridor and were met by Hannah, Dante’s petite fiancée. When he stood behind the strawberry blond and folded her into his arms, the contrast between her fragile frame and Dante’s big limbs reminded Ruth again how close to death Hannah had recently come. Behind her rectangular glasses, fatigue lined Hannah’s gold-flecked, soulful brown eyes. Her cheeks remained too hollow, even a month recovered from her ordeal.

  Nearby stood Peter, whom Ruth had met when he delivered medical supplies to save Hannah’s life. The woman next to him must be Peter’s wife, Allie. With her light brown hair pulled into a ponytail, nothing hid the glow of love for the infant sleeping in her arms.

  Peter had done it. Broken the Indebted curse, found the love of his life, and created a family. An unheard of outcome for an Indebted. Previously unheard of, until Dante repeated the feat, that is.

  Swift jealousy stabbed Ruth in the temple until she shoved a smile in place.

  Decorum, like a suit of armor, encased her, insulated her.

  “Thank you all for coming,” Ruth said.

  “Barnaby’s important,” Peter replied.

  The lines on Peter’s face and glints of gray in his dark, close-cropped hair testified to the fact that time had begun to pass for him now. Mortal now for over a year.

  “Ruth, this is Allie and our daughter, Emma.”

  Although Peter was a calm, controlled man, his protective stance as he hovered behind his wife spoke volumes. Barnaby had hinted at some of the suffering Peter had endured to save Allie’s life and transition himself to mortal. If the pride on his face as he gazed upon his baby girl served as indication, the struggle had been worth it.

  Allie brushed strands of hair off her face without jostling the baby and glanced at Ruth. Allie’s eyes were a rich emerald green but swirled with gold flecks. Somehow, her eyes seemed familiar. How strange.

  Allie smiled. “How are you? I sent the bags of IV fluids and medications last month for Hannah, after the—her ... injuries. I heard you did a great job taking care of her.”

  Hannah nodded as Dante tucked her deeper under his corded arms. If his demeanor was any indication, he would never let her go. Who could blame him? The sweet woman had been close to death in a coma for more than a week after the attack by Jerahmeel’s minion.

  Dante had died to save Hannah’s life. Those two had been willing to sacrifice everything for their love. His free hand cupped Hannah’s cheek, as though he wanted to shield her. Obviously, their sacrifice had been worth the price.

  Ruth’s own cheeks heated. When she grasped Allie’s outstretched hand, Allie recoiled as if she had been slapped. Alarmed, Ruth tried to pull away, but Allie held fast.

  “Did I do something wrong?” Ruth asked, aghast.

  Barnaby had mentioned that Allie could see death, an ability that had drawn far too much attention from Jerahmeel. That ability had almost gotten her killed. Of course it made sense that she sensed death within Ruth. Death was Ruth’s specialty, after all.

  In unspoken agreement, their companions formed a semicircle around the two of them, blocking them from view of any passersby.

  Allie gripped her hand more firmly. “No. It’s—this is so strange. Peter, please take Emma.”

  Once Emma was cradled protectively in her father’s arms, Allie grasped both of Ruth’s hands and gasped as her green gaze unfocused. An odd sensation filtered through Ruth’s mind, similar to when she confirmed her kills by pushing into the criminals’ minds. Intrigued, Ruth probed further, and Allie’s mind seemed familiar, comfortable, like someone she’d known for years.

  Which made no sense.

  Connecting with Allie’s mind was like having a phrase on the tip of the tongue, and Ruth couldn’t quite find the words.

  Ruth refused to delve deeper into Allie’s consciousness. To do so would be intrusive, but her curiosity had been piqued. She gently withdrew from Allie’s hands.

  “What did you see?” Peter asked his wife, hovering next to her.

  “What did you see?” Allie studied Ruth.

  “I don’t know,” Ruth said. “But it felt ... comfortable.”

  “For me, too. So odd,” Allie said.

  “So, did you see Ruth’s death?” Dante blurted out.

  Peter glared at him, but the blond giant grinned sheepishly and stroked Hannah’s shoulder-length hair. Such an odd couple, but somehow they fit each other perfectly.

  Odie had remained a few paces back until Ruth motioned him forward, and he broke the awkward silence with a nod to the women.

  “I’m Odie, an old friend of Barnaby’s.” He emphasized the “old,” and everyone knew exactly what he meant. Old, old, like Peter and Dante had been. Like Ruth still was.

  Beneath his short beard, Odie’s lips curled upward. “You two codgers I know. How’d you two ugly mugs get such beautiful women?”

  Dante and Peter grinned. Ruth sighed.

  Allie tapped her chin. “Ruth, your mind feels a little like my sister’s. It’s strange, like I know you, even though we just met.”

  “I agree,” Ruth said.

  Allie glared at Dante. Turning back to Odie, she shrugged. “No offense, but I have this gift ...”

  “Yes. Barnaby mentioned it,” he said.

  “Every time I touch an Indebted I see death. Because your job is, you know ...”

  “Yes, we know.” One side of Odie’s mouth quirked and for a moment, he had the look of a boy in trouble, not a man who had been alive for hundreds of years. Even the wave of dark chestnut hair over his forehead gave him a youthful appearance.

  “Well, we can explore what that was all about later.” Allie commandeered her baby again.

  Ruth turned toward Dante and Hannah. “It’s good to see you again, both looking much better.”

  The lump in her throat hurt as she carefully put her arms around the frail woman who’d nearly died a month ago. On impulse, Ruth touched Hannah’s face. With her mind still open from Allie, Ruth experienced another similar mental connection.

  Hannah’s mind felt like a comfortable pair of gloves.

  “I thought your ability had short-circuited. Can you heal? Is that what I’m feeling?” Ruth asked.

  “No, not since—”

  Hannah’s voice caught, and Dante glowered at Ruth.

  “Back off, big guy, no one’s hurting me.” Hannah gave him an arch look, and the mighty Dante relaxed. “I can’t heal anymore, Ruth, but I’ll try again, if you want.”

  She closed her eyes, placed her hands directly over the remainder of Ruth’s burns and, after a few seconds, cracked open one eye. Nothing happened. A red flush crept up Hannah’s neck.

  Ruth stepped back. “I’m sorry, I thought maybe it might have turned back on and that was what I felt.”

  “I’m not sorry,” Dante interjected. “That healing stuff hurts her.”

  Ruth spied Odie rubbing his chin with a speculative set to his mouth, the appearance of a man working out a problem. The back of her head prickled.

  She shook her head. “You’re not all here to figure out my strange feelings, which are probably due to stress. Let me give you an update about Barnaby.”

  When she outlined the events leading up to finding Jerahmeel in the hotel room and Barnaby collapsed on the floor, Odie added a few details.

  Silence followed the end of her story.

  “So how is he doing now?” Peter asked, his mouth tense.

  “Poorly. His heart has been damaged, from within. Jerahmeel did something to him, but it’s not certain exactly what. Barnaby’s been unconscious most of the last twelve hours.”

  “Can we see him?” Dante stepped forward, loosening his grip on Hannah.

  “Yes, a few at a time,” Ruth said.

  “Why don’t you take Dante and Peter back?” Allie offered. “I need to feed Emma before she wakes up starving again. I’ll find a quiet spot and be back in a half hour.”

&n
bsp; “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Odie said. His grave voice commanded everyone’s attention. “Jerahmeel may know that Barnaby’s here. If he finds us here, well, let’s just say none of us are on his most-favorite list.”

  “I’m not letting you and Emma out of my sight.” Peter’s hands curled into fists.

  “No, please, you should see your friend,” Allie said.

  “Why don’t Hannah and I stay with you, Allie, if it wouldn’t be too intrusive?” Odie said. “We’ll get this hungry one fed and happy.”

  As if on cue, Emma squeaked and rooted around.

  Peter handed Allie the diaper bag. “Stay close to Odie. Please.”

  “Ok, let’s go find a nice place for a snack, then.” Odie gently took the diaper bag and moved it to his own shoulder. Ruth’s breath caught.

  Odie, Hannah, and Allie strolled down the corridor. He towered over both the women and, by the way he scanned the hallway, was already taking his security job seriously.

  Ruth sighed.

  “You look like you could use a nap,” Peter said.

  “I don’t need sleep. You know that.”

  “Need and want are two different things. Why don’t we stay here at the hospital for a while and you take a break? You’ve been here since Barnaby was brought in.”

  “I don’t know if it’s safe for you to be here without protection,” she said.

  Dante bristled. “Number one, because we’re mortal doesn’t mean we’re without skills. Number two, Odie has some colleagues lined up to help babysit us mere mortals. They should be here soon. Take advantage of the downtime. If anything changes, we’ll call.”

  Peter nodded agreement. Funny. Here she was the indestructible one, and these mortals looked out for her well-being.

  She had avoided exploring the full depth of the nightmare mess she was in with Jerahmeel and his lovesick fantasies. Better to leave it until later to think about that pile of manure. But soon, she’d have to reckon with him.

  “Let’s see Barnaby first, and we’ll decide what to do later,” she said.

  In the ICU, a nurse ushered them into Barnaby’s room. Over the past few hours, he had become a shadow of his former self, almost dissolving into the bedding. The two big men mirrored Ruth’s sharp intake of air.

  The men hovered near the bed, not moving, not saying a word, staring at the form lost in the sheets.

  “You can talk to him. Even unconscious, he might enjoy hearing your voices,” she whispered.

  Peter tried first, placing his hand on Barnaby’s upper arm.

  “How’s it going, old friend? You’re looking a little rough.” His voice broke. “Please get stronger, get better. I’d stab myself in the chest all over again, if it would make you get better.”

  “Ditto that, bro,” Dante added.

  A zing of realization ran through Ruth. “Hold it, you two. Is that the key to the Meaningful Kill? Take our own lives? Because if that’s the case, I’ve been going about the task completely wrong.”

  The glance between the men could have frozen fire.

  Dante shrugged and pointed. “You said it, bro.”

  “No. It’s not that simple, and you know it.” Peter rubbed his short hair. “The Meaningful Kill isn’t the same for each person. Your solution may be different from ours.”

  “Yeah, how I did it was different from how Petey got his mortality.”

  “Maybe I should try it.” She caught herself reaching for the knife.

  “You can, but if you’re wrong, all you’ll do is draw Jerahmeel right to you.”

  “Damn it.”

  “You can say that again.” Peter agreed, the corners of his mouth going white with tension.

  “Can we maybe discuss this later?” Dante inclined his head toward Barnaby.

  Heat flooded Ruth’s face. How selfish could a person be?

  Peter turned back to Barnaby and took the man’s frail hand in his. “Where were we, my friend?”

  “You were saying something stupid about stabbing yourself.” Dante grinned.

  “Ah, yes.”

  Dante pulled a stool up to the other side of the bed. “Barnaby, old man, you have to get better. What will I do without your advice? Just the other day, I was thinking, ‘Man, I should call Barnaby for some help on an issue ...’”

  Ruth stepped out and eased the door closed, giving the men time with their friend. No need to hog the time with Barnaby; she had sat with him as much as the staff would allow her since early this morning.

  Maybe Peter was right. Maybe the journey out of this hellish existence required that each Indebted take a different path. If only she knew which way to go.

  Chapter 13

  Odie inhaled traces of mint and lavender as he handed Ruth out of his gray Audi coupe. Sunset brought a cool breeze that drew the scent of damp moss and dried leaves.

  With the help of a few Indebted colleagues from Mobile and Memphis, Barnaby and their mortal friends would be watched over for the next few days. Odie’s fellow Indebted had taken kills in their home territories before speeding down here, so hopefully Jerahmeel wouldn’t know about the increased numbers of the Indebted in New Orleans.

  When Odie had invited Ruth to his home, he didn’t think she’d agree. But even an Indebted needed rest if he or she reached the limits of his or her emotional and physical strength. He could provide that rest for her. Watch over her.

  Since when did he consider her to be something more than a pawn in his ultimate scheme?

  He wasn’t prepared to answer that question. Best to concentrate on driving the hour to his home.

  After the first hundred years of toiling in New Orleans, he’d amassed enough money to purchase a large property. The rundown plantation had been abandoned after the Civil War, and he spent many years and thousands of dollars restoring the crumbling big house to its current beauty. The rows of live oaks lined the entrance to the home as he drove down the outside of the row around to the side of the house. Spanish moss drifted from branches in tangles, stirring in the slight breeze. A few prized pecan trees dotted the lawn, their branches spread wide and rounded.

  Ridiculous as it might be, Odie hoped that Ruth would like his home. He refused to analyze why her opinion mattered. But it did.

  When he pulled up to the entry porch and opened the door for Ruth, pride welled as he watched her eyes widen when she spotted the massive white columns and tall windows on both stories. Even in the waning light of dusk, his mansion had an imposing presence.

  “You have a lovely home.”

  She walked up the front steps of the whitewashed plank porch, her heels punctuating each step with a solid tap.

  “Let me.”

  He unlocked the front door, pushed it open, and preceded her to flip on the foyer and porch lights. When she gasped with that expression of wonder, the shadows of fatigue on her face faded.

  That deep breath also enhanced the cleft between her breasts, as she still wore the black wrap top from last night. His mouth went dry. With effort, he dragged his gaze from that tempting valley.

  Her lips formed a heavenly O shape. “This home is gorgeous. Look at the stairway curving up there. And the wood paneling on the walls must be original, right?”

  “Yes, restored and varnished fresh. You know your plantation homes.”

  “Not particularly, but there were some estates and a few plantations in Maryland where I grew up. But they were nothing like this house. The architecture up north was much different. Here, it’s grander, more open, more airy.”

  “Probably because it rarely gets below freezing here, unlike Maryland.”

  “Very possibly.” She scanned the room from plaster ceiling to wood floor with an expression of awe.

  Odie could easily spend a lifetime finding new ways to light up her face like that.

  Ridiculous. He wanted help with his plan to get rid of Jerahmeel. If a taste of carnal pleasure came with the deal, more’s the better.

  Why did that conclusion leav
e a sour taste in his mouth? Why did the thought pinch something deep inside?

  “Let me give you the tour.”

  “Do you give lots of tours?” Even when she sighed, gold glinted in her gaze.

  He grinned. “Surprisingly, no.”

  Pink tinted her cheeks, and he had to make a conscious effort not to strut and preen.

  He led the way past the grand foyer with its curved mahogany staircase. In the living room, leather and darker colors dominated the furniture and fixtures. Seeing the house through her eyes, it occurred to him that some lighter colors might improve the space. Maybe the house could benefit from a woman’s touch.

  He had been a bachelor for far too many years.

  After strolling through the country kitchen, they entered the formal dining room. Despite the pecan wood table that gleamed beneath the grand glass chandelier, this room always felt cold.

  “Use this room much?” she asked.

  “I was just thinking that it doesn’t get used at all. Too formal.”

  “You can tell a lot about people from which living spaces they enjoy the most.”

  He smiled. She had pegged him precisely, right in time to enter the library, the one area in which he found solace. Unfortunately, it also contained the computer that was running the genealogy program.

  Odie’s heart sped up as he saw lists of primary source documents on the screen.

  She inhaled. “Smells nice in here. Old books. Furniture polish. I love it.”

  “It’s my favorite room. But I’ve modernized it.”

  He gestured toward the carved wood light switches behind them to draw her attention, then flipped off the computer screen on the heavy oak desk.

  “There’s a bathroom with a shower on this floor. I mostly stay downstairs, since I converted this bedroom into my office. Upstairs are actual accommodations if you want to rest. In a real bedroom. Like a real person.”

  Her light chuckle lifted his soul like it had grown wings.

  As they headed up the stairs, the view of her rounded derriere commanded his attention. The roll of her hips made his groin clench with desire. How he wanted to run his hands over those curves. Mon dieu, but he had been fighting the urge since the moment he had met the woman.