by Lexi Ryan
“Tanner Wiley,” she supplied.
He studied her, almost sadly. “And Mr. Wiley is…your boyfriend?”
Tanner willed her to say “Yes.” He wasn’t deluded about his relationship with Josie, but he sure as hell didn’t want Greyly pursuing her.
Josie opened her mouth, closed it, then tried again. “Our relationship is complicated.”
Greyly flashed her another charming frat boy smile. “Yeah, I understand complicated. What were you doing that got you home so late?”
Josie blinked at the officer.
“When someone comes home at four in the morning to find their apartment ransacked and an intruder there, we have to wonder where that person was in the preceding hours. Who would have known you’d be away from home last night?”
Tanner held his breath as he waited for her answer. She’d need to be careful. They didn’t have an alibi for tonight and wouldn’t want to give Greyly any reason to connect them to the break-in at the fertility clinic.
“Tanner and I were at his place.” She chewed on her bottom lip and looked up at Greyly through her lashes. “At which point we quickly get into the complicated part.”
Tanner released his breath. What was he worried about? She was a pro.
Greyly nodded. “Where is your friend now?”
Josie cast a surreptitious glance around the room, making Tanner chuckle silently. She was no fool. “In the lobby, I presume.”
“I think I’ll go ask him a few questions. In the meantime, I’ll send an officer out to your apartment to survey the damage.” He pulled out his card. “Give me a call if you remember anything that could help us.”
Greyly took a step toward the door then stopped. He was watching her again. He rubbed the back of his neck before asking, “Depuis quand avez-vous bougé aux États?”
Josie wrinkled her brow. “I’ve lived in the U.S. my whole life.”
“But you speak French.” It wasn’t a question.
She shrugged. “I understand more than I speak. Dabbling in languages comes in handy in my line of work.”
He dropped his eyes to his notes. “PI work?”
“Something like that.”
Watch out, girl. He’s gonna see that you’re defensive about your job.
Tanner shifted as Greyly studied her again. She wasn’t a goddamn lab rat, but he studied her like her face might hold the answer to some great mystery. “Take care, then.”
Greyly walked to the door and was reaching for the handle when he said, “Mallory?”
Josie’s head shot up and they locked eyes for a long beat. She took in a shaky breath. “What did you just call me?”
Greyly looked down at his papers, smooth as all hell but not fooling Tanner for a second. He was trying to get her to reveal something. “I’m sorry. I thought my notes said you sometimes went by the name Mallory.”
Josie’s jaw worked for a minute but finally she shook her head. “No. I’ve never gone by that name. Your notes must have me confused with someone else.”
Josie averted her gaze, and Greyly left the room with a nod.
When he was gone, her face was drawn, worried. Tanner materialized and squeezed her hand. “The man who attacked you, he was a Special?”
“Yeah.” She turned, and Tanner must have had a look in his eyes because she drew in a sharp breath. “Don’t be stupid, Wiley. Whoever he is, he’s gone and it’s over. Anyway, we know nothing about him. Don’t go on some mission trying to find him.”
“What did he want from you?” He braced himself for a lie.
“He wanted my mother’s journal.” She blinked and fresh, hot tears streamed down her face. “And he got it.”
Tanner frowned. “What would he want with her journal?”
She shook her head.
Okay, so she would only give him part of the truth. So be it. For now, he’d take what he could get. “Who’s Mallory?” he whispered.
“She’s no one,” she said, dropping her eyes to her hands.
“Josie, please stop—”
“You better get out there,” she said, not bothering to look up. “The officer will be looking for you.”
***
Collin Raines had fucked up a lot in his life. On the top of his list of fuck-ups was the way he’d left Paige, which was why, when she slipped into his bed before dawn, he knew he must be dreaming.
“You don’t mind?” She scooted into him so that his body spooned hers.
Of course he didn’t mind. That was like asking a thirsty man if he minded a tall glass of water.
Pulling her against him, he forced himself to relax. He didn’t want this dream to end. “Stay,” he murmured against her neck.
Her little body felt so good in his arms—her ass pressed into his growing erection, her breasts nestled against his arm.
She turned to face him and ran her fingertips along his jaw line. “I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me.”
Collin blinked and she stayed right where she was. “This is no dream,” he said, knowing it was true, but that didn’t explain why Paige was in his bed.
Had she left Darian? When? Why? And though the selfish part of him wanted her in his bed now—wanted her to stay—in the back of his mind, he grieved. She deserved better than him.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he finally said.
“Do you want me to go?”
She belonged with Darian. Collin didn’t deserve her. He knew these things as well as he knew that he wasn’t strong enough to ask her to leave. “No.”
He pressed his lips to hers then, because he was too weak to resist. He knew immediately that it had been too long since he’d tasted her. There was nothing familiar about her flavor.
He dug his hands into her thick dark hair and pulled her closer.
As he rolled her under him, she groaned and clawed at his shirt. She spread her legs so his thigh settled between them and had him immediately thinking of sliding into her, feeling her slick heat squeeze his cock.
This was about more than sex. This was about having the only woman who had ever truly loved him. She was back in his arms, and he was so afraid she might disappear, he wanted to consume her, taste every inch of her.
He had to slow down.
He buried his face in her neck and took a long, slow breath. She still loved him, despite everything.
He froze and inhaled again. She didn’t smell like Paige.
Didn’t smell like Paige, didn’t taste like Paige. And she was in his bed and therefore not acting like Paige. It was time to stop fooling himself.
He ran his hands down her arms and threaded his fingers with hers. A small sigh escaped her lips, then he slammed her hands against the bed on either side of her head and pinned them there.
He pulled away, jaw set. “Who the fuck are you, and what are you doing here?”
Fear flashed in her eyes. “Collin?” she whispered. “It’s me, Paige.”
“You’re a horrible liar.”
“Just kiss me,” she said. Pleaded was more like it. “Kiss me, Collin.”
He tightened his grip on her hands and she winced. “I don’t know who you are, but you should know patience is not one of my many strong points.”
“You’re hurting me,” she whispered.
He set his jaw, mentally ticking off the weaknesses in his apartment’s security. Even Paige shouldn’t have been able to get past the doorman.
He focused just enough to activate his power, which allowed him to steal and block the power of any Special he touched.
He blinked and suddenly it was Tara in his arms, sweet, selfless, naïve Tara underneath him, biting her bottom lip and rocking her fucking hips to grind into his erection.
Her gaze dropped to his lips, and he thought—fucking rotten bastard that he was—he really thought about accepting that invitation. It wasn’t as though this was the first time he’d been tempted. Tempted by a child.
He was the lowest of pond scum.
He rolled off her
and found his jeans. “What the fuck, Tara?” She was a child, he reminded himself—reminded his fucking hard on—a child whom he’d already exploited, and until he could forgive himself for that, he wasn’t ready to move on to the next royal fuck-up.
The woman on the bed morphed into the blond, voluptuous Josie. “I don’t see any Tara here,” she said. She spread her legs and pressed her breasts forward provocatively. “I can be anyone you want me to be.” But she couldn’t. He’d taken enough of her power that she couldn’t hold the shift and her eyes and face were already shifting back.
Collin growled. “You’re a fool.”
“Josie” rolled her eyes before shifting completely back into Tara’s form. “What do you think of my new skills?”
He studied her, watching her eyes. It was definitely Tara. Which meant— “Shit,” he muttered. She’d warned him, hadn’t she? “Who the hell—” He cut himself off, better he not react at all.
“I’m not a little girl anymore.”
He closed his eyes and swallowed. Not a little girl. Yeah, he could vouch for that. He’d felt every inch of her not a little girl against him, and his dick was still thinking about it.
He opened his eyes and focused on her face, determined not to give into the temptation to study those curves he’d somehow missed until these last months, determined to focus instead on the short dark hair that had come in thick again after months of chemo and the eyes that reflected her innocence.
His cell phone rang and he looked at the clock—not even six in the morning.
The display on his phone told him it was his brother, Rider.
“Hello?”
“Collin, I just got word that Josie broke into Martin’s lab tonight.”
Fuck. He’d worried about this when he’d seen she’d been nosing around fertility clinics. “What did she find?”
“She shouldn’t have found anything,” Rider said. “I removed her file last year.”
“But she knows something,” Collin said, more to himself than to his brother. “I’ll be in touch.”
He disconnected the call and turned to Tara. If she was going to be throwing herself into trouble, he might as well direct her toward something productive. “You interested in using your powers for good instead of evil?”
Her eyes lit up and she grinned, looking far too damn excited. And innocent.
He sighed. “How long can you hold a shift?”
“Depends,” she said, frowning. “Are you going to use that power-sucker thing on me?” She rolled her shoulders and rubbed her neck. “I’m drained and feel like crap. That’s from you, isn’t it?”
He ignored the question. She knew the answer anyway. “How long under normal circumstances?”
“I don’t know,” she said, “but I can find out.”
He nodded. “Show me your Josie again. I need to see how believable it is.”
Chapter Seven
Her apartment had been torn to pieces, and Josie was hurting too much to do more than watch as Tanner did his best to put it back together again.
The first of the morning’s light slipped in the windows as he swept glass off the floor. Her mother’s crystal. Every broken shard was a reminder of what she didn’t have. As the pieces clinked together in the waste basket, she counted her losses.
Clink.
No father to walk her down the aisle at her wedding.
Clink.
No mother to hold her hand as she gave birth to her child.
Clink-clink.
No chance to apologize to her mother for the hell she’d put her through as a teen.
Tanner looked up. “Will you please take some pain meds?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Alyson is on her way. The pain meds make it harder for her to work.”
Tanner dropped the dust pan then crossed to her. She didn’t realize she was crying until he wiped the tears from her face. Another vision came with the touch, but this one was as tender as it was passionate.
She looked into his eyes as he slid inside her. He framed her face with his hands and kissed her brow to jaw line. She threaded her fingers in his hair and brought his mouth to hers.
She blinked back the vision and raised her wall. What was that she’d felt? Surely not love...
“Can you tell me something, Josie?”
She closed her eyes. “That all depends on what you want to know.”
With a sigh, Tanner settled next to her on the couch. “Did you see this coming? Did you have any idea that man was going to attack you?”
She shook her head and licked the salty tears from her lips, thinking, Now that there’s no journal maybe I can keep my life. Maybe I can risk falling for this man.
But she couldn’t risk letting the Ascendants rise to power. She still had to find the doctor. “I didn’t see it coming.”
Tanner watched her, worry filling his eyes. “Would you have told me if you had?”
If she had known someone was coming for her mother’s journal, what would she have done? She wouldn’t have been so stupid as to keep it in her purse. She would have found a safer place. “Probably not.”
He winced but didn’t reprimand her for what he likely saw as foolishness. He hadn’t lived with this ability. He hadn’t seen the consequences of sharing pieces of the future. He couldn’t possibly understand.
He took her hand in his and squeezed it, and she had to concentrate on holding the wall against the visions that threatened to tumble in. “At the bar the other night, Chrissie said something about you never sharing your visions. Is that because of what happened to your family?”
Pain lashed across her heart. Before her parents were killed, her power had been so new, and she hadn’t understood what she was seeing. Would it have mattered if she’d not said a word?
She exhaled slowly and considered the best way to explain. “Imagine I have a vision of you winning the lottery. I’m not omniscient. I don’t know how or when, but I just see this image of you celebrating with your family after you win. Then, imagine I tell you about that vision. What would you do?”
Tanner shrugged. “Buy a lottery ticket.”
“Exactly, but now you’re buying it because of what I said, so I’ve interfered. You won’t buy the same ticket or have the same numbers. Everything changes, and it’s my fault.”
“That makes sense,” Tanner said, reaching for her hand. “There would be a new outcome, but I’m still the one who made the decision to buy the ticket. Only I can take responsibility for that.” He started at her for a long beat. “You’re not responsible for what happened to your family. The person who murdered them is.”
Josie dropped her eyes, afraid she’d cry more if she kept looking into his.
“Whoever did that, Josie, they would have found a way.”
Tears ran hot tracks over her cheeks. “Before they were killed, I saw us running away, changing our identities. I don’t know why we were running, but when I told my parents about the vision, they set things into motion sooner than they would have otherwise.” She looked back up at Tanner and shook her head. “If I hadn’t said anything, I’d still have a family.”
He squeezed her hand again. “No one is to blame but the people who murdered your family,” he said. “Seeing the future doesn’t make you responsible for it.”
She stayed silent. How could she explain that it did?
The doorbell rang and she was saved from having to say anything at all.
Alyson let herself in. She covered in jewelry fashioned with various crystals and stones, and her long skirt trailed behind her.
“Tanner, I’d like you to meet my good friend Alyson,” Josie said. “Alyson has been my yoga instructor for years. Tanner is an operative for the SIA,” she told Alyson.
Alyson nodded and knelt before Josie, an “Oh,” escaping her lips as she took in Josie’s face. She lifted her hand to touch Josie’s cheek, and Josie stopped her with a shake of her head.
“My arm first?” she asked.
> “Yes, of course,” she said, placing her hands on Josie’s cast.
“Wait!” Tanner said.
Josie shook her head. “I trust Alyson. You should too.”
Tanner stepped back, concern marring his handsome face.
The energy collected in Josie’s broken arm—the feeling was something like being burned with the most intense flame, only there was no heat.
Josie winced, and Alyson whispered, “I’m so sorry.”
Just as quickly as the pain increased, it dissipated, bringing a wash of relaxation in its wake. Josie closed her eyes, unable to resist the pull of the post-healing peacefulness.
She wanted to stay awake and tell Alyson how much she appreciated this. Alyson was the most powerful Healer Josie knew, but mending broken bones drained even the best Healers. She wanted to express her gratitude but could barely summon the will to move her lips, let alone open her eyes.
“She can take the cast off,” Josie heard Alyson tell Tanner, “but be careful you keep it. She should wear it in public so anyone who saw her at the hospital thinks she’s healing the slow way.”
“Okay,” Tanner said, “If I cut it in the right spot, I can rig it so it’s easy to remove and replace.”
“Josie,” Alyson whispered, her hand at her face again, “I still have a little left in me. I would like to heal your face, at least partially. If I don’t, these bruises will be terrible by tonight.”
“’Kay,” Josie whispered, already leaning into the couch cushions and falling into the deep, peaceful sleep of the recently healed.
***
The Keeper had summoned him.
A thrill ran through Bobby. No one got to see the Keeper. He clutched the satchel with the journal to his side as he allowed the Keeper’s black-suit clad security to escort him into the private residence.
His mouth went dry with anticipation. Finally, he’d been given the chance to prove himself.
He looked around the mansion, trying to take everything in. They’d put him in the back of a windowless limo to bring him here. He’d tried to keep track of where they were, but the driver hadn’t taken a direct route. Bobby could tell they drove around to throw him off, but he didn’t care.
