“You did. You touched her. You’ve no right.”
“Easy, Nate. It was mutual.” Gabriel ground down on his teeth. The muscle in his jaw twitched with tension. He’d never rape a woman, or even consider it. He rolled his hands into fists. Not because he wanted to punch the kid, although he did. The greater urgency was to control the energy swelling inside. Letting loose wouldn’t be good. He didn’t kill innocents.
“Mutual? She was a virgin.”
“Yes.” Easy, kid. You’re not that innocent. He closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath. It had been a long time since anyone pushed his temper like this. Most knew when to shut their mouths and walk away. Most stayed out of his sector.
“How could you? You’re going to take her soul and her innocence? What kind of a sick bastard are you?” Nate eyed the bat.
“Don’t do it, Nate. I’ll defend myself.” Gabriel felt a quickening inside. Energy pulsed through his blood, building and fighting to break free. He opened his eyes, knowing they glowed, and intentionally stared through the kid. He’d seen grown men wet themselves with a look less intense than the one he gave Nate.
Nate didn’t back down or hesitate. Instead, he pointed at the door. “Get out. I’ll take care of her from here.”
And that took a lot of balls. He could respect that. Gabriel rose to his feet. “I need my coat.”
“Leave it. You’re not seeing her naked.”
He opened his mouth to argue that he’d already seen her in that state and changed his mind. No sense in sending Nate into a frenzy. The kid would get hurt. He felt guilty for not protecting her all too well himself. That need to protect, even knowing there was nothing he could do. The kid wouldn’t back down, no matter the threat, and that he understood.
“Okay, keep the coat.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a primary account chip, tossing it on the bed beside her. “She’s going to need a large meal and lots of fluids when she wakes. Keep the room, keep her warm. I’ll get my chip when I come back in five days.”
“You’re still going to take her? This is unbelievable. We don’t want your money. My sister isn’t a whore you can buy. Take your flipping chip and get the hell out.” Nate pulled a revolver out of a drawer and pointed it. “Or I swear I’ll kill you.”
“It won’t do you much good without bullets.” Gabriel narrowed his gaze on the weapon. “Other than get you shot by someone who has them.”
Nate set the gun down. “That’s creepy, how you read minds.”
“I can’t read minds. I read your face. It’s why you’re still alive.” Gabriel walked out, leaving his chip, his heart, and feeling nothing but pain at what he’d done. It chewed away at his insides, gnawing him raw. When she woke, she’d hate him.
If she remembered him.
The door slammed and locked. He glanced over his shoulder, fighting the urge to go back.
Love sucked.
Why’d he have to fall in love? Things were easier without the complication. And, yes, he was in love. Fallen the moment he’d set eyes on her. It had never been his choice. He knew that now.
He eyed the office and glanced back at the room, where the light snapped on. He’d stay close and keep an eye on her. It was the least he could do for all the pain he’d caused.
***
Justinus eyed her from across the room. Handsome, powerful, and wealthy, everything she should desire. He’d been a friend from childhood. They used to sneak out and ride together, play in the fields, and they’d even come to know the joys of the body together. He’d been her first, and at one time she thought herself in love with him. But lately he’d taken on a serious air, watching her with hunger, always questioning where she went, and with whom.
“Where were you this night, Jocasta? I came by earlier.”
She shrugged and twisted a beaded bracelet on her wrist, a trinket Augustus had purchased for her earlier. “Taking in the celebration.”
“Did you attend with someone?”
She glanced up and caught the look in his eyes. Fire. Lust. Her stomach fluttered. “Alone.”
“You shouldn’t go out unescorted. A beautiful woman could find herself in trouble. I might lose you to another lover.”
Jocasta laughed. “You tease me, Justinus. You’re not my lover.”
“I tease not. I’ve asked your father for permission to take you as my wife. He has agreed that the arrangement would be quite satisfactory.”
“A union?” Jocasta’s heart thumped. She could do worse. She cared deeply for him, but regardless, she could never love him, not like the Centurion with the amber eyes.
He rose from where he’d reclined and walked toward her. “I’ve loved you all my life.”
She tipped her head back and stared into his face. “You’re my closest friend, and I love you as such, but not as intimately as you profess.”
“I hope it will become so much more.” He knelt before her, pulled a bundle wrapped in bright fabric from the folds of his military tunic, and held out a jeweled collar. “I’ve had this brought all the way from Egypt for you. I’ve heard Cleopatra wore something very similar. Here, take it, a small token of my affections.”
Jocasta glanced down at the beaded bracelet she wore and back at the lapis and gold collar. “It’s lovely.”
He reached forward. “Lift your hair.”
Jocasta shook her head. “I can’t take that. I’ve fallen in love with another.”
Justinus glared and a tick pulsed in his jaw. His black eyes looked darker, full of rage. “Who?”
“Does it matter?”
“Who?”
“His name is Augustus. He’s a Centurion from a family here in Rome. His legion came in four days past—from Egypt….”
“Augustus?” A frown creased his face and his grip on the collar tightened, until she thought he’d pulverize the gold. Pain burned across his countenance.
“Justinus?” There was more there than he was saying. “Do you know him?”
“He’s my brother. Anyone but him. I can’t kill him, but I can’t let you go, either. I could never let you go.” He launched the necklace at the nearest wall. Stones and gold beads separated from the collar and scattered across the room. “He brought this back for me to give to you. A wedding gift. You are mine.”
Jocelyn opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. The light radiated out, illuminating everything around her in shades of black, white, and gray.
The lights snapped off. “You’re awake.”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry about the lights. I wasn’t expecting you to wake up now.” Worry radiated in Nate’s expression.
Jocelyn reached up and touched her forehead. “What happened? Where am I? Why can I see in the light?”
“You can see in the light?”
“Turn the lights back on. I can’t see color, but I can see. What happened? The last thing I remember is you going in to rob that store. Have I been in a coma?” She turned to him and noticed the absence of his aura. Shivers wiggled across her skin. She lifted her arm and stared at the leather coat.
“Whose…?”
“Doesn’t matter. He’s not coming around again.”
Jocelyn blinked, scouring her mind for any hint of what had happened and who the elusive “he” was.
“I bought you a change of clothes while you slept.” He nodded at a pile of folded garments on the bed. Jeans, a T-shirt, underwear, and a damn good guess on her size. Sneakers—not second-hand, but brand new. Bought them? Where had her clothes gone and, most importantly, where did Nate get the credit to buy them?
“Why am I naked?”
“Go shower, change, and I’ll order take-out. You need to eat.”
“Yes.” She rubbed her head again. Had she slipped into a psychic coma? How long had she been out? “My head—did I have another episode?” she murmured. Nothing felt real, as if she floated in a dream. Even that seemed like a lie.
Jocelyn climbed to her feet and grabbed the pile o
f clothes. The coat she wore engulfed her body, dropping past her ankles to drag on the floor behind her.
She stumbled, caught her balance, and leaned against the wall to settle the dizziness. Perhaps her new sight screwed with her equilibrium? She glanced over her shoulder at Nate, still unable to read his energy. Nervous jolts jittered through her heart, shooting to her fingertips. “I think I’m going to be sick.” She rushed to the commode and dropped to her knees, gagging in dry heaves. Nate was beside her instantly, holding her hair off her shoulders.
“Please.” Jocelyn choked and caught her breath. “Leave me.” Her stomach rolled again as he shut the door. She gagged a couple more times and got control.
“Okay, get in the shower and then get dressed. Come on, you can do it,” Nate called through the door.
Jocelyn pushed to her feet, using the wall for support. She turned around, unfastened the coat, and shrugged, dropping it. Biting her lower lip, she did an about-face and stared into the mirror. Her hands clamped onto the edge of the porcelain pedestal so hard her knuckles turned white.
“Let’s get this over with.” She sucked in a breath, tilted her face up and stared back at an image reminiscent of a silver-screen queen. It didn’t seem real. She reached out, pressing fingers to the glass. More like a ghost. Detached, unfamiliar.
Boom, boom, boom. Her jugular danced. She brought her hand to her face and touched her mouth, nose, and cheeks. Peeling back her lips, she stared at her teeth and probed them with one finger. She skimmed the pad of her index finger over her brow and stopped on the corner of one eye, as she forced herself to look, terrified of what she would see.
Jocelyn leaned in and looked at the pupils. They were no longer fully dilated, but half and half. With her uncolored vision, the ring around the black looked like liquid silver.
Not really different than looking at herself in the dark, other than she didn’t see any of the vibrant colors energies carried. Freaky, knowing the lights were on and it wasn’t killing her. “What happened to you, Jocelyn?” Her gaze drifted down to her naked torso and her thighs. Something dry, crusty, and a darker shade of gray clung to her skin. She brushed her fingers over it and yanked her hand back. Blood? A face flashed through her mind. Amber eyes. Her heart jumped. What had she done?
“I don’t want you to forget this moment. Stay with me. Here. Now.” She heard his voice as clear as if he was next to her, setting her body to trembling. Lips brushed her mouth; heat speared her belly. Jocelyn placed a hand over her stomach to settle the fluttering. Breathe.
The handle squeaked as she cranked the faucet on. Water dripped from her fingers, and she stared in fascination at the way the light made it shimmer. She touched one of the spots on her thigh, and brought her fingers up to look. The dark gray had transferred. She put them under her nose and sniffed. A metallic smell, and something else she couldn’t place.
“Nate!” Jocelyn yelled through the door. “Why’s there dried blood on my legs?”
He sighed as he approached. Years of being blind tuned her senses to nuances others couldn’t pick up. He leaned against the door, pressing his hand against the surface. What didn’t he want to tell her?
“The truth, Nate. I know you’re about to lie. Give me the truth.”
“You had sex with a reaper.”
There it was. Jocelyn’s heart leaped into her throat. Her gaze shot down to the discarded coat lying on the floor. “Oh God.” Amber eyes. Swirling energies of orange and blue. She swallowed and asked the one question she really didn’t want the answer to. Forget—what the hell was she doing in the company of one of the Enforcers? Forget—did he rape her? Forget—why she couldn’t remember any of it. Forget them all. All but one question. It left her lips before she had a chance to regret asking.
“Who?”
Nate cleared his throat. “Can we discuss this after you take a shower?”
“No.” Jocelyn glanced back at the blood. “Who was I with, Nate? Don’t lie to me.”
“Gabriel.”
His face came in clear. She sucked in a breath. She could feel him inside her, her back pushed to the wall. Slapping her hands over her face, she slid down the door to her butt, and sat on the cold tile. “Gabriel,” she whispered. “I remember. Oh God. Gabriel? And the credit for the clothes…where did it come from?”
“Same reaper.”
“What?”
I didn’t stutter, Jocelyn. Your new boyfriend is a reaper and the worst of the bunch.”
Gabriel. “It can’t be. He’d have taken my soul.”
“I think he’s already taken some of it. Do you feel different, outside of being able to see in the light?”
She nodded and swallowed. She’d always been able to sense energies, see auras. They were gone, as though someone had ripped a chunk from her body. Her stomach whirled and she crawled over to the toilet, resting her head on the seat.
“Do you feel different?”
“Yes. I can’t read your energy.” Images of recent events whirled in her head. A pull from below her navel as he drained her. Gabriel, stop. Her hands began to shake and she fought the urge to vomit. She’d trusted him, thought he felt the connection. “I’m blind.”
“You can see.”
“No. This isn’t seeing. I’m blind. He blinded me. Oh God, Nate. He took my vision. All of my abilities.” She collapsed to the floor and began to cry. “He took my vision.”
The handle rattled.
“Go away. Leave me alone.”
“Jocelyn?”
“Leave me alone. Please.” She began to cry again, so hard she hiccupped in staggered breaths, struggling to take air into her lungs. What hurt most was that she’d trusted him, thought he felt their bond. Wanted her. “Please.”
Chapter Seven
“Do you feel it?” His fingers slipped inside her, twisting and stretching. Jocasta moaned and rocked against him. “The heat between us….”
“Did you hear anything I said? Jocelyn. Yo, Sis?”
“Yes. What?”
“I said….”
Her eyes drifted back to the lamp, studying the way the light haloed the top of the shade.
He groaned and buried his face in his hands. “This is important and you’re not listening.”
Jocelyn wound her hair around her fingers but stopped when she felt Nate staring. She dropped the strand. “Sorry.”
“That’s what I’m talking about.” He jumped to his feet and began to pace.
She watched him while he did his best to work a groove into the floor. Gone was her kid brother, in his place a weary stranger. Too much responsibility for a twenty-two-year old to carry on his shoulders. It would be best if she walked away, taking her burden with her. He didn’t deserve this, any of it.
Jocelyn nodded. “Go on. You’ve my attention.”
“Five days. You need to kick this and get serious. No more crying, no more moping around. No more zoning out, staring at the lights, daydreaming about that damn reaper.”
“Okay, okay, enough about the reaper. I’m not daydreaming about him.”
He snorted.
“I’m not. Continue, would you?” Be my wife, Jocasta. She glanced at the light and snapped her attention back to Nate, who now glared.
“We’ve proven one of your past crimes was self-defense, or I mean, we can, from what you’ve told me, but what about the others? You can’t have visions anymore.”
“They can’t charge me for crimes unless they can trace them to my soul. That means somewhere out there, somebody has history on me. Every dirty detail or almost every dirty detail of my past.” She pressed her hand to her forehead. “Perhaps the loss of my vision is temporary, or maybe Gabriel has the ability to give it back?”
“Don’t even think about it. You can’t look for him. Haven’t you learned anything from the last encounter?”
“Yeah. I did. I hate the bastard.” Her insides twisted as she said it. “I hate him, Nate.”
Liar. Oh, how she wanted to hate
him. She didn’t even know him, but something inside her wouldn’t let the desired emotion fester. It refused to let her feel the way she wanted. Anger. Fury. Denial. Something other than the elation she felt when his name fell off someone’s lips. Even the pain from her lost vision seemed eased when he was mentioned.
Gabriel. Her heart began to race and her stomach fluttered. For some reason, she could smell the spicy scent he wore, feel the energy of his touch as if he were present. Frustrating. Maddening. She wanted to wrap herself in the heat of his body and the beat of his heart. The really sick thing about it was, she’d march into the jaws of the beast for one more moment in that embrace, and not think twice about it.
Nate grabbed a holo-processor and set it on the table, opening it. “They’ve got free stratus-net here.” He laced his fingers together and cracked his knuckles. “Let’s see if I still have the touch.”
The touch, as Nate called it, was nothing short of a hacking gift. He had a way of getting into anything secure, off limits, or illegal. He had a talent for thievery, and it had come in handy more times than she cared to think about. The kid should have a big job in a corporation, making huge credit doing it—not using that talent to save her worthless hide. It never ceased to amaze Jocelyn he didn’t have a few warrants of his own out there.
But he was good. She glanced at his fingers flying over the pad, barely registering the movement. Really good.
He performed a pronounced, singular stroke with his finger, bringing up a secure page. “Welcome to DSLE, the Department of Spiritual Law Enforcement, home of the planet’s finest.”
“You broke into the confidential database for the reapers.” Jocelyn scooted closer. “I think that’s a new record.” And on the stratus-net. That included off-world transmissions and a serious degree of talent.
“Almost. Three point five seconds shy of what it took me to crack into the NASA database last year and link into the Sentinel Satellite.”
“Seconds? That’s amazing.”
He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. A grin split his face. “Yeah, it is, isn’t it?”
Slipping the Past Page 9
