Psychic Storm: Ten Dangerously Sexy Tales of Psychic Witches, Vampires, Mediums, Empaths and Seers

by Deanna Chase

  Brandt turned his attention to the still-howling dog locked on to the killer's shoulder. "Let the dog go. I'll get him off you."

  "Like hell.," the killer gasped. "This asshole should have died a long time ago. Worthless piece of shit."

  Brandt didn't know what he was talking about, and it didn't matter right now. Somehow he had to save the dog. For Sam's sake. The killer be damned. "Let go of the dog, or I'll shoot."

  "Fuck you." The killer grinned at him through bared teeth as he removed one hand from Soldier's throat and with a quick twist of his wrist slid a dagger free from his belt and threw it.

  "Brandt!"

  The dagger stabbed into the wall behind Brandt, missing him completely. Brandt didn't miss the killer. The bullet hit him low in the left shoulder. The grin fell off his face as he stumbled to the floor.

  Soldier, now with the upper hand and caught in a blood lust of his own, lunged again. He reclamped his jaws into a tighter grip.

  "Soldier!" Brandt ordered. "Soldier! Stand down." He repeated it twice before the dog stopped trembling and unlocked his jaw. Brandt stepped closer, the gun trained on the killer.

  Soldier curled his lip at him.

  "It's okay, boy. You've done good. Move, Soldier."

  The dog dripped blood from open tissue shinning wetly in the dark.

  "Soldier. Down."

  In the distance, the sound of sirens grew stronger.

  Brandt didn't think the dog was going to listen. Finally in a crippled shuffling movement, the dog slid to the floor. He was hurt, and badly. Brandt kicked the knife away. The killer glared at him, blood pouring from both shoulders.

  Sirens filled the air, colored flashing lights filled the room.

  "It's okay Sam. The ambulance and police are here."

  "Sam?"

  Silence filled the room.

  Brandt spun around to look, his gun still trained on the killer. "Sam?" Fear spiked his voice to a scream. Crumpled in a bloody pile on the floor, Sam lay between the two dogs. All three looked dead.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Sam walked slowly down to the dock, Brandt at her side. Soldier hobbled behind them. Moses, moving much slower, brought up the rear. Sam wouldn't want it any other way.

  She tried not to dwell on the events of that night. She didn't remember much and that's the way she wanted to keep it. She'd been rushed to the hospital where the doctors had frantically tried to stop the spread of the poison from the cocktail of drugs guaranteed to kill her. If it hadn't been for Brandt she would have died. Chills ran down her spine at the reminder.

  It had been late the next day before she'd surfaced – screaming. Brandt had been at her side, a place he'd stayed during the first week of her recovery. Once out of hospital, they'd enjoyed the time alone at the lake. A healing time. But then he'd had to go back to work.

  Sam had returned to the clinic soon after.

  At the clinic, she'd refused to talk about the events, hoping the chatter would die down and with time – it had. Still, David, a good family man and an off-duty cop pulling extra time, lost his life when he'd stepped outside for a cigarette. He'd wandered out to the deck and never had a chance to draw his first smoke-filled breath.

  The dogs had been rushed to the clinic where they'd both undergone surgery. Thank God, the vets had done it for free. Sam didn't have that kind of money, and although Brandt had joked that his department should pay the dogs' medical costs, she hadn't wanted to ask for it.

  She didn't know what the future held, although more people than she'd ever thought possible stopped her on the street to ask what she saw in their futures. Her fame as a psychic had spread after the details of the attack had leaked to the press.

  Speaking of leaks, Dillon had been reprimanded and transferred to another station.

  As for Deputy Brooker, Brandt had matched shells picked up from the woods around her place to his gun, finally. He'd followed Brandt to her place when Soldier had caught his scent in the woods. His truck was the same as the one who'd tried to run her off the road. He wasn't admitting anything more at this point. She didn't know what he was going to be charged with at the end of the ongoing investigation, yet she could count on Brandt to make sure he'd be out of commission for a long time. Sam had agreed to testify and help their case in any way. She wasn't looking forward to seeing Brooker face to face, only knew she could do it and survive. She was stronger now – in many ways.

  Captain Johansen had apologized profusely. Every time he saw her, in fact. He'd even thanked her. Who knew how long William Durant would have continued killing women if not for her visions. She could grin at the captain now. It had taken awhile, but she was slowly getting used to being around people.

  Brandt had helped with that. So, too had Maisy, Brandt's mother. The colonel had recovered. He'd recognized the ring as being on the hand of the dog handler that brought the animals in to visit the patients at the center. A very subdued Maisy confessed that the dog handler had been there when she'd established the pool on when the colonel would remember what he'd forgotten about the ring. She'd actually asked him if he wanted in on the bets. That had sealed the colonel's fate…or nearly.

  Even Soldier's story might have been connected. Although, chances are they'd never know for sure. The dog had certainly known what to do when the time had come. William Durant hadn't survived surgery. Sam found it hard to care. The world was better off without him and this way she didn't have to go through two trials.

  Brandt was backtracking the guy's life, searching for links to other murders in his files. He was hoping for evidence to close dozens of cases – not to mention bring closure to dozens of families.

  It would take some time. As a dog trainer, Bill had exposure to people, care homes, and even the hospital where he took animals in to visit with the patients. This allowed him to travel to various locations without raising suspicion. Teaching obedience training gave him access to hundreds of women. An opportunity he'd taken full advantage of.

  Louise Enderby's long-time partner had come forward after seeing the news. He'd been on the board for the city's animal shelters – he'd fired William from a part time job at the pound where he was to rehabilitate last-ditch cases. He'd been caught abusing the animals instead. An organization that relied heavily on donations, the pound hadn't wanted any negative publicity and agreed not to press charges if Bill disappeared – for good.

  They could only speculate, yet it appeared that Louise had become an innocent victim of a war she hadn't even known about.

  The best that Sam could understand, Bill picked his victims out of numerous loving couples where the man had been supposedly considered to be 'the best' man – theoretically underlining that, Bill himself, wasn't good enough.

  Sam didn't understand the psychology of it all. Who could understand a twisted mind like his? Who would want to?

  Stefan had even shown up at her cabin during the first week of convalescence, threatening to do her serious harm if she ever got herself into that situation again. Said it had cost him ten years off his life. He'd also pulled her training forward to avoid a repeat of this mess.

  Sam smiled. Stefan was a special man and she loved knowing he was in her life. They had a closeness that she had never known was possible. She could only imagine it was similar to the relationship between twins.

  As for her and Brandt, well they were slowly adjusting to life as a couple. They both had things to learn and Sam wasn't sure she was ready to live together, although the topic was under discussion. At the same time, she didn't sleep nearly as well alone. Not that she had the chance to.

  It was Brandt who refused to sleep alone. According to him, he was planning on always waking up with her beside him. She hoped he meant it. She wanted to believe in a 'happily ever after.'

  Her visions weren't ever going to stop, but she'd become accustomed to them. It wasn't about accepting them any longer, it was about understanding and utilizing them. Progress.

  Her visions didn't make
her an easy partner, then Brandt's job wouldn't be easy on her. They'd work it out. For the first time ever, she could see a future. It was bright and rosy. She'd like to have had a vision that told her Brandt was her future and she'd be spending the next forty years happily at his side, but as she'd found out, visions didn't work that way.

  Brandt glanced at Sam, standing at his side, staring out over the water. He couldn't help but feel protective of this woman, so slight, so strong, and so damaged. She'd been a tormented soul who walked with one foot on the dark side of the universe. Now there was a lightness to her.

  She was everything to him. He stepped closer, wrapping his arms protectively around her shoulders. He'd do anything to keep her safe. In this world and the next. They were a matched set. Their future wouldn't be the standard two-storey house and white picket fence life. No. But it would have its own rewards.

  And he was going to make sure they received each and every one of them.

  Hide'n Go Seek – Book 2 of the Psychic Vision Series

  A twisted game of Hide'n Go Seek forces an unlikely alliance between a no-nonsense FBI agent and a search-and-rescue worker.

  Celebrated search-and-rescue worker Kali Jordon has hidden her psychic abilities by crediting her canine partner Shiloh with the recoveries. But Kali knows the grim truth. The Sight that she inherited from her grandmother allows her to trace violent energy unerringly to victims of murder. No one knows her secret until a twisted killer challenges her to a deadly game of Hide'n Go Seek that threatens those closest to her.

  Now she must rely on FBI Special Agent Grant Summers, a man who has sworn to protect her, even as he suspects there's more to Kali and Shiloh than meets the eye. As the killer draws a tighter and tighter circle around Kali, she and Grant find there's no place to hide from themselves.

  Are her visions the key to finding the latest victim alive or will this twisted game of Hide'n Go Seek cost her...everything?

  About Dale Mayer

  Dale Mayer is a USA Today bestselling author best known for her Psychic Visions and Family Blood Ties series. Her contemporary romances are raw and full of passion and emotion (Second Chances, SKIN), her thrillers will keep you guessing (By Death series), and her romantic comedies will keep you giggling (It's a Dog's Life and Charmin Marvin Romantic Comedy series).

  She honors the stories that come to her - and some of them are crazy and break all the rules and cross multiple genres!

  To go with her fiction, she also writes nonfiction in many different fields with books available on resume writing, companion gardening and the US mortgage system. She has recently published her Career Essentials Series. All her books are available in print and ebook format.

  To find out more about Dale and her books, visit her at http://www.dalemayer.com. Or connect with her online with Twitter at www.twitter.com/dalemayer and on Facebook at www.facebook.com/dalemayer.author.

  If you like Dale Mayer's books and are interested in joining her street team, sign up here - https://www.facebook.com/groups/402384989872660/

  Books by Dale Mayer

  Psychic Vision Series

  Tuesday's Child

  Hide'n Go Seek

  Maddy's Floor

  Garden of Sorrow

  Knock, Knock...

  Rare Find

  Eyes to the Soul – Jan 20th, 2015

  By Death Series

  Touched by Death - Part 1 - Free

  Touched by Death - Part 2

  Touched by Death - Full book

  Haunted by Death

  Chilled by Death – March 31 2015

  Second Chances...at Love Series

  Second Chances - Part 1 - Free

  Second Chances - Part 2

  Second Chances - Full book

  Broken, but… Mending Series

  Skin

  Scars – Feb. 24th, 2014

  Novellas

  It's a Dog's Life - romantic comedy

  Charmin Marvin Romantic Comedy

  Broken Protocols #1

  Broken Protocols 2

  Broken Protocols 3

  Broken Protocols 3.5

  New adult/adult crossover Books

  In Cassie's Corner

  Gem Stone (a Gemma Stone mystery)

  Design Series

  Dangerous Designs - Free

  Deadly Designs

  Darkest Designs

  Family Blood Ties Series

  Vampire in Denial - Free

  Vampire in Distress

  Vampire in Design

  Vampire in Deceit

  Vampire in Defiance

  Vampire in Conflict

  Non-Fiction Books

  Career Essentials: The Resume

  Career Essentials: The Cover Letter

  Career Essentials: The Interview

  Career Essentials: 3 in 1

  JUMP TO...

  NEW REVELATIONS by HEATHER TOPHAM WOOD

  ARMAND by APRIL AASHEIM

  TUESDAY’S CHILD by DALE MAYER

  JUST A LITTLE NUDGE by JESI LEA RYAN

  HAUNTED ON BOURBON STREET by DEANNA CHASE

  SPIRITS AMONG US by MORGAN HANNAH MACDONAND

  LONDON by JC ANDRIJESKI

  AMONG THE LIVING by JORDAN CASTILLO PRICE

  VAMPIRE VACATION by C.J. ELLISSON

  TOUCHED by HAZEL HUNTER

  JUST A LITTLE NUDGE

  BY JESI LEA RYAN

  Marley Sexton never aspired to be a stripper. She even chose the stage name Misty Showers as a joke, thinking she’d make a few quick bucks and move on to greener pastures. Three years later, Marley’s still stripping. It’s the only job she can land that will put a dent in her mother’s mounting medical bills.

  It’s also the only job where she feels justified parting fools from their money with a little talent she calls nudging.

  As psychic powers go, nudging isn’t impressive. Marley can’t get people to do anything they’re not already inclined to do. Useful for making a seedy customer grab a larger bill from his wallet, but not strong enough to ditch a drug cartel that’s on her tail.

  Marley is in over her head. She’s not big on trusting people, especially a strange man with a gun, a badge, and a story that doesn’t quite add up. JC Moreno figures out that Marley may have taken the nudge a little too far. But how? Whoever the guy actually works for, one thing’s for certain. He has a history with the cartel and an agenda of his own. Although the suspicion between Marley and JC runs both ways, maybe they can work together to both get what they want…if they don’t get killed in the process.

  Heat Level: 3

  Dedication

  If not for fellow author Jordan Castillo Price, I’d probably still be agonizing over this story.

  Thank you for your support and friendship.

  Chapter 1

  Marley

  Mama always said, “Some people so bad they just need killin’.”

  ’Course she was referring to the most villainous characters on her daytime soaps, and not about the corpse lying at my feet, but I figured the sentiment applied.

  “Oh, holy Jesus!” sobbed my co-worker, Destiny, from where she knelt in the back-alley grime, ripping the hell out of her thigh-high stockings and poking the dead man with her talon-like fingernails. Then she gave a half-hearted shove on his chest in what I assumed was a bastardized version of CPR. I could’ve told her there wasn’t anything she could do that would be bringing that man back, but it seemed to make her feel productive until the ambulance arrived. I’d called them ten minutes before, but in this neighborhood? Even emergency personnel paused to draw straws before sending the losers out on the call.

  I should’ve felt bad for killing the guy, but the truth was I didn’t. He was a new face at the gentlemen’s club where we danced, and trust me, he was no gentleman. In fact, when I’d stepped out back to make a call to the home to check on Mama—the club didn’t get cell reception for shit—that man had Destiny half-beaten to death and was all set to force himself on her. No, I didn’t f
eel bad for ridding the world of a violent, despicable person. But I was plenty freaked out at my ability to kill him from ten feet away with only the power of my mind.

  “Misty, don’t just stand there. Do something!”

  I worked to still my shaking hands. “Dest, honey, there ain’t no more helping that man. He’s gone. We just need to sit tight until the cops get here. Why you helping him anyway? I saw the way he attacked you.”

  Destiny stopped her incessant pounding on the man’s chest and slumped back with her ass in a puddle of what I hoped for her sake was water, even though it hadn’t rained a lick in Austin in months.

  “Yeah,” she sniffed. “But what kind of person can just sit back and watch somebody die?”

  Me, apparently. No way was I lifting a hand to help a would-be rapist.

  She buried her snotty face in her hands and sobbed silently, overwhelmed by the weight of the night, or maybe her life. I’m sure to her I looked calm and in control, but inside, shock raced through my veins for an entirely different reason.

  You know how some people predict the weather? Or how some know when company’s coming? Well, Mama always called my gift nudging. I sort of implant suggestions in people’s heads. Don’t get me wrong...I can’t lead people around like puppets on strings...but if a person is set on doing something, I can kind of nudge them into a slightly different direction. Say I see someone at McDonald’s ordering a small coffee. I can nudge them into making it a large. Or when men reach for their wallets to get a dollar to shove in the band of my G-string. I can nudge them to grab the twenty instead. Now, don’t judge me. If those men were home with their families where they ought to be, and not panting after strippers, they wouldn’t have to worry about keeping track of their cash.