by Rebecca York
“What about it?”
“What can you do?”
Don’t even think about it, Jake said to Rachel.
“You first,” Jake said.
“I thought you’d want to brag about your new abilities.”
“This isn’t getting us anywhere,” Jake said. “Either tell us what you want or get the hell out of here.”
“You’re giving orders?”
It wasn’t Mickey who spoke. A woman stepped from behind the float with the king and queen and looked up at them.
“This is my partner, Tanya,” Mickey said.
She was a pretty, petite blonde with long wavy hair and a nicely proportioned figure, the kind of woman who would be attractive to a lot of men. But there was a hardness in her face that told him that anyone who got involved with her would be sorry. Like maybe Mickey.
She was dressed in jeans, a T-shirt and running shoes, but she was probably just as comfortable in high heels and a tight skirt.
“Did you come to give us lessons?” Jake asked with an edge to his voice.
“Not likely.”
Tanya raised her hand and a bolt of lightning shot toward them, landing on the metal surface of the steps directly in front of their feet.
Jake and Rachel were already pressed against the wall of the office in back of them. The connection between them had been at its strongest. It weakened when they jumped apart.
Jake cursed, scrabbling for Rachel’s mind, struggling to tell her what he wanted. But she was on his wavelength. She leaped back toward him and reached for his hand, grabbing on to him as he strove to find new resources inside himself. Imitating what the other couple had done, he sent a bolt of energy back toward the floor where the man and woman stood. It fell far short. And it was much less powerful than what the people below had conjured up.
Tanya laughed. “Is that the best you can do?”
“Why are you doing this?” Rachel shouted.
“Because we’re the only ones who can have this power.”
“How are we hurting you?” Rachel asked.
“By your existence.”
As they talked, Jake tried to summon an attack with more power. Before he could do it, another bolt shot up at them. It hit Jake’s leg, and he felt his muscles spasm, sending searing pain shooting through the limb.
Fighting the agony, he reached for the gun in his waistband, but when his fingers closed around the metal, it turned scorching hot. He made a low sound as he dropped the weapon. It clattered to the balcony surface, then over the edge and onto the floor below.
Mickey ran to scoop it up, but Tanya restrained him with a hand on his shoulder.
The little scene below had given Jake and Rachel a few moments to get away.
Head for the back exit, Jake shouted inside her mind. Go left.
Rachel started running, but she stopped when she saw he could hardly walk on the wounded leg, much less run.
You’re hurt.
Go on.
No.
She grabbed his hand, pulling him along. Another bolt hit him, and he doubled over, fighting unconsciousness. But he would not pass out. If he did, they were done for.
Fumbling in his pocket, he brought out the remote control that he’d taken from the drawer, and began pushing buttons. Below them, the figures on some of the floats began to move. The king and queen raised and lowered their arms and turned their heads. The musical instruments began to play.
Mickey and Tanya whirled as the warehouse came to life around them.
“What the hell?”
“It’s a trick. Focus on them,” Tanya answered Mickey’s exclamation.
She hadn’t spoken aloud, but Jake caught the words that Tanya silently shouted.
She gave Jake an evil look and began blasting at the balcony again. A bolt hit Jake in the stomach, knocking the breath out of him, and he knew that he couldn’t take much more.
“Help me get my shirt off.”
Rachel didn’t ask why as she helped him tear the buttons open and pull his arms from the sleeves.
When it was off, he scrabbled at his pocket and pulled out the box of matches that he’d also taken from the drawer.
I’ll do it.
As another bolt hit him, his legs gave way and he almost dropped the box.
But she grabbed them from him and struck a match, which she touched to the shirt. When it flared up, she tossed it down onto the float with the tree. The artificial leaves went up like a torch, sending a cloud of smoke into the air.
Below them, Mickey cursed and began to cough.
Jake could hear Tanya coughing, too. He could no longer see them. And mercifully, the energy bolts had stopped flying up from the level below. But more floats had caught fire, and the smoke was rising, enveloping him and Rachel.
He knew he couldn’t go on. The attack had done something to him that he didn’t understand. But his body felt lifeless, and his brain was hardly any better. Still, when Rachel pulled on his arm, dragging him along, he tried to help her as best he could.
She reached the upper door. When she drew it open, blessed fresh air poured in, clearing his head a little.
Jake, you’ve got to help me.
He knew that if he didn’t get away, she wouldn’t leave him, so he made a superhuman effort, shoving himself out the door. They were at the top of a long flight of steps, and he almost tumbled down headfirst.
“Can you make it down?”
“We’ll see.” Sending his thoughts to her had become impossible.
Gritting his teeth, he leaned on her like a drunken man as she guided him down the steps to the alley and back to the car.
“Keys?”
“Pocket.”
She leaned him against the side of the vehicle while she fumbled in his pocket, then pulled out the keys and shoved the right one into the lock.
When she opened the back door, he slid inside and flopped onto the seat.
He tried to hang on to consciousness, but it was too much effort. All he wanted to do was sleep. Maybe forever.
RACHEL STARTED THE ENGINE and drove away from the warehouse. Smoke was now billowing from the roof.
Had Mickey and Tanya gotten away, or were they still in there?
She gritted her teeth. Did it matter? They’d lured her and Jake to the warehouse to kill them, and they’d almost succeeded.
Her heart pounded as she looked back at Jake. He was deep into unconsciousness, his mind completely shut off from her.
Still, she tried to reach him.
“Jake?”
Jake?
She kept repeating his name, trying to break through whatever barrier now separated them, but there was absolutely no response, and the lack of connection was like a punch in the gut. She’d come to depend on it, and now she didn’t know what to do without it.
But she did know she had to get Jake somewhere safe. And she couldn’t drive him far. She had to find out what was wrong with him.
A siren sounded in the distance, and she stiffened. But it wasn’t a police car chasing her. It must be fire engines racing toward the Buccaneer Crew’s burning warehouse.
Although she hated thinking of all those floats going up in smoke, burning them had been the only way for her and Jake to get away.
She kept driving, wondering where she was going, until she found herself in the alley in back of Kendall Wexler’s pawnshop.
She sat with her head against the wheel, her arms embracing it for a moment. Then she got out and turned the knob on the back door of the building. It was open, and she rushed inside, making for the shop in the front.
When she charged into the room, Kendall Wexler was facing her. He’d been charming when she’d met him a few hours earlier. Now he stood with a gun in his hand, pointed at her middle. His eyes were hard as glass.
“What are you trying to pull?” he asked.
Her mouth had turned dry, and she had to moisten her lips before she could talk. “Jake’s been hurt. I didn’t know where else to take him
.”
“Shot?”
“No. He…”
“What happened to him?”
She didn’t know how to describe what had happened. Not without a long explanation that Kendall probably wouldn’t believe anyway. “Electricity,” she said. “He’s unconscious. In the car. Is there somewhere here where I can take care of him?”
The old man gave her a hard stare. “You’re asking me to hide two people who are wanted for murder. That makes me an accessory after the fact.”
“You know we didn’t do it.”
“I don’t know a damn thing.”
“You gave us guns.”
“I gave them to Jake.”
Her shoulders sagged. “Okay. I’ll figure something out.”
When she turned toward the door, he allowed her to leave.
She walked to the car, wondering where the hell she was going now. Probably a motel.
Opening the back door, she knelt beside Jake. His face was pale, and his breath was shallow.
Movement behind her made her stiffen.
It was Kendall. “There’s a room where you can stay,” he said in a gruff voice.
She wanted to refuse, but standing on principle wasn’t going to help Jake.
“Thank you,” she answered.
She climbed into the car and lifted Jake’s shoulders. Kendall grabbed his legs, and together they got him out of the vehicle. Supporting him between them, they made their way slowly back to the shop.
Inside, the old man stopped halfway down the hall and opened a door to a small room with a twin bed covered by a threadbare chenille spread. With only a dresser, sink and faded armchair, the room wasn’t plush, but it was a place to hide out.
“Guest room. You can stay here. There’s a bathroom across the hall,” he said, gesturing in its direction. “I’m going to close the shop and leave. Don’t want to be involved in this.”
“I understand,” she said as they got Jake onto the bed. She covered his bare chest with the quilt folded at the end of the bed.
Kendall had backed toward the doorway. “You should hide the car.”
“Where?”
“I got a garage a few doors down. I’ll take the car there.”
“Thank you,” she said again.
“Mr. Jake done a lot for me.”
“Yes.”
When he closed the door, she turned back to Jake, unsure of what to do. How could she get him medical attention when they were wanted for murder? And would a doctor even know what to do for him? She’d be in the same fix she was in with Kendall, having to explain that he’d been in a psychic battle and gotten hit by mental thunderbolts.
Pulling down the quilt, she examined Jake’s chest. As far as she could see, there was nothing wrong there.
But they’d hit him in the leg, she remembered. At least their aim hadn’t been perfect. Thank God for small favors.
He didn’t move when she unbuckled his belt, worked the button at the top of his jeans and lowered his zipper. Then she slipped off his shoes and set them on the floor. Trying not to move him around too much, she pulled his jeans down, then off.
The skin of his right leg was red and puckered, as if he’d been burned. She saw another burn on his belly. But not third-degree, thank God. His flesh wasn’t charred. It looked more like a bad sunburn.
A tap at the door made her jump. When she opened it, Kendall handed her the keys. He looked beyond her to Jake, saw the wounds and shook his head.
“I’m leaving now,” he said. “The car’s two doors down—to the right.”
“Thank you.”
As he withdrew, her chest tightened. She wasn’t sure if she could trust him, but Jake had, and she would rely on that, in the absence of other information.
She laid her hand on Jake’s chest, reassured by the steady beating of his heart. Wondering what to do, she slipped off her own shoes and climbed onto the bed, putting her arms around him and holding him.
“We’re at Kendall’s place,” she said. “We’re safe. But I don’t know what to do for you.”
When he didn’t answer, she closed her eyes, trying to reach him with her mind.
Jake, we’re safe at Kendall’s. He’s letting us stay here, but he’s nervous about it. Please wake up and tell me what to do.
When he still didn’t respond, she repeated the message, hoping she was getting through to him, but she felt as if she was sending her thoughts into empty air.
The sensation terrified her. All her life, she’d been alone in a way that most people couldn’t even imagine. Then she’d found Jake, and everything had changed.
And now…?
She knit her fingers with his, willing him to come back to her, but he only lay on the bed, his breath shallow. She knew that he was injured in some way she couldn’t understand. It wasn’t just because his leg was burned. They had done something that shut him off from the world—from her. He’d gotten out of the warehouse, but now he didn’t seem to be aware of his surroundings at all.
And something else alarmed her, too.
His skin had begun to cool.
“Jake?”
He didn’t move. Didn’t give any indication that he knew she was there.
“Jake?” She heard the panic in her own voice, knew that she was on the verge of losing it. Losing him.
And if that happened, what would become of her? The old Rachel had told herself she was content with her life. That was before she’d found out there was something more. Something the two of them had that she’d never in her life imagined.
At this moment, it was gone. Vanished as though it had never existed. She was alone again.
She was sure she couldn’t go on without him. Not when she knew how it had been between them.
Desperation welled inside her. She looked toward the door, then got up quickly and turned the lock, hoping that Kendall really was gone and that no one else would come in. Not now.
Standing beside the bed, she undressed, leaving only her panties.
When she’d climbed onto the bed again, she slid on top of Jake, pressing herself against him, trying to warm him with her body as she tried desperately to reach him with her mind.
With her cheek against his, she whispered his name, begging him to open himself to her. She used her voice and also a silent plea.
For long moments, nothing happened.
Then she felt a glimmer of recognition, but very weak.
“Jake?”
From far away, she heard the inner voice that had become so familiar to her.
Goodbye.
“No,” she screamed in anguish. “No.”
But he didn’t answer.
Chapter Eleven
“No!” Rachel shouted again, aloud and in her mind. “No!”
But she knew he was gone—departed to a place where she couldn’t follow.
With that terrible knowledge, she felt her own heart fracture, her own spirit die.
She was still screaming, still enveloped by the terrible agony of losing him. It was the worst pain she had ever felt. But out of the unimaginable grief came a new kind of resolve. She would not let it happen. Not now. Not when she had finally filled the terrible void in her life.
She must bring him back or die trying.
Determined to shut out the world, she squeezed her eyes tight and clung to him with her arms, her hands, her legs and her spirit. His soul was drifting upward, and she went with him.
No longer able to feel her own body, she stayed with Jake.
He hadn’t answered her cries when he lay on the bed, but now he did. At least she had that much.
Go back, he shouted in her head.
Not without you.
I can’t.
Are you a coward?
How can you ask that?
You’re leaving but we have work to do.
They…killed me.
Don’t let them win. If you let them win, we’re both dead.
A long, empty silence followed. It
might have lasted for seconds or minutes or hours.
She didn’t know precisely where she and Jake were. They must be suspended somewhere between life and death. It could still go either way, she knew. But if she could pull him back to the world she would.
She clung to him with everything she had, trying to bring them both back to earth.
By tiny degrees, she felt something change. The balance was shifting. At first she couldn’t be sure it was working. Then her heart leaped as she felt herself coming closer to the earth, bringing him with her. Against all odds, he was coming back, too.
Gradually she felt her own body, felt her arms wrapped around Jake, felt her breasts pressed to his chest.
And then the biggest miracle of all. She felt his arms come up and clasp her. Not tightly, but it was enough.
She opened her eyes. Through a film of tears, she found herself staring down into his face.
“Rachel?”
“Thank God.”
“I was…dead. I should be…gone.”
“I couldn’t let it happen.”
You brought me back.
Thank the Lord.
As she clung to him, more tears welled in her eyes, and she struggled to hold them back.
She had won. They had won.
When he rolled to his side, cradling her against him, she lost the battle and began to cry, the sobs racking her body.
His hand stroked over her back, tangled in her hair, giving her comfort.
Finally, she was able to get herself under control.
I thought I’d lost you.
You brought me back, he said again, awe and admiration in his voice.
What happened? What did they do to you?
Hit me with those energy bolts. I don’t know what they did, exactly. Weakened me. I felt myself fading away.
You’re still weak, I think.
He raised his head and looked around. “We’re at Kendall’s?” he said aloud, and she knew that the mental communication was draining him.
“His guest room.”
“I’ve stayed here once or twice.”
“Hiding out?”
“Yeah.”
“From whom?”
“Those business associates I told you about.”
“I thought he was going to shoot me when I first came in. He didn’t want us staying here.”
