by Gina Ardito
“Aiiiiiiiii!” Amanda Kroger’s bellow summoned more ravens.
The inky cloud shot toward her on ear-splitting squawks and violently flapping wings, the widow’s harbingers of doom.
Oh, God. I’m going to die. Again.
And suddenly Luc’s mocking voice popped into her head. I always knew you were too soft for this job. See? I was right.
Oh, hell, no. No way would she let him have the last say on this. She’d get this bitch or die again trying. Jodie had too much to prove—to Luc, to the Board, to herself—to let the Lighthouse Widow get away.
But how was she supposed to convince this crazed maniac to come along with her to a new life? Peacefully? Clearly, Amanda Kroger had no intention of relinquishing her hold on this lighthouse and this shadowy existence.
Damn it! She had no experience dealing with Furies. Luc hadn’t bothered to share much information with her about the nasties of the Afterlife. For all she knew, he’d never before come up against one.
Maybe, though, that would work to her advantage. She and Luc had very different ways of handling the souls they’d captured thus far. She might be better off without Luc’s input. Using her own instincts, she would solve this problem. On her own. Without his voice inside her head, second-guessing her every move.
From somewhere behind her, a door slammed. The widow! While she’d been focused on Luc, the widow had slipped to the only door in this room and was now trying to flee! She had to go after the bitch, but dammit, her body screamed for time to heal. Oh, how she’d love nothing more than to lie on her hard bed at the Halfway House, surrendering to the need to reboot.
Okay, then. The sooner she lassoed this Fury, the sooner her body could rest.
Determination drew Jodie upright, all energy cells in their proper place, bouncing, but not too eager for action. Rather than the rapid boil she normally controlled, her cells fused together in a low simmer now, too drained to create active kinesis.
On raucous cries, the ravens swooped, no doubt determined to peck her into submission while their mistress made her escape. No time to fly, barely enough energy to move. In order to prevent the birds from landing a talon or beak on her, she focused her molecules into rapid perpetual motion until she’d spun herself finer than grains of salt.
The aviary attack came on a cacophony of flaps and squawks. But with nothing solid to strike, the ravens’ assault had no more impact than a prizefighter’s punch to a waterfall. Every peck, dive, and scratch shot harmlessly into musty emptiness. While the birds tussled in a murder of black feathers, Jodie took advantage of their frenzy to seek out the exit. Only one door sat conspicuously in the walls, and Jodie oozed her way from the service room, slipping beneath the crack.
She found herself in the lighthouse’s tower. An oxidized green steel staircase spiraled downward. Exhaustion claimed her, but she refused to give in. On a deep inhale, she dove headlong toward the bottom. Mildewed air stung and a stale, moist breeze hampered her progress. Thankfully, gravity still overpowered humidity on Earth. A few feet from the floor, she slowed her plunge and floated feather-like until her feet touched damp cement.
Emptiness blinded her. Unlike the service room, no moonlight touched these thick stone walls to lend illumination. By the time her vision adjusted, she barely caught sight of the hem of Amanda’s ebony gown slipping into a small cubbyhole. Slowly, carefully, Jodie inched toward the niche, but remained outside the space, thoughtful.
Now what?
Regardless of how normal bounty hunters handled this type of situation, Jodie clung to the lessons regarding self-preservation she’d learned while growing up in the wilds of Central America. Rule number one: Never walk into an entrance where you can’t see a viable exit. Guerillas, military foes, and other villains set booby traps in caves, blind alleys, and darkened rooms.
Which meant following the Fury into her hideout was out of the question. After all, judging by their first less-than-successful encounter, the old widow was a helluva lot stronger and more ruthless than Jodie.
No, she’d need another weapon to wrangle this renegade into submission. Too bad she didn’t have a golden lariat like Wonder Woman. So what exactly did she have in her arsenal a Fury wouldn’t?
That arrogant voice from her memory chimed in. You’re too damn soft for this kind of work.
“Screw you, Luc,” she muttered. “I don’t care what you think. I’m going to do this my way.”
But, wait. Hadn’t she said something very similar when she’d gone after that schoolteacher? And hadn’t she used her softness to reach out to the little boy? And that poor woman with the secret baby? Even the trouble she’d gotten into with Mr. Finch was due to one quality Luc considered her fatal flaw.
Compassion.
When she was little, her dad used to tell her, “Jodie, my girl, you’ve got a heart bigger than Wyoming and a gift for gab. Never lose those attributes. Too many people don’t realize what a truly human quality compassion is. You could talk the devil himself onto the path of righteousness.”
God, I hope you’re right, Daddy.
Because this was probably as close as she’d ever get to that unholy conversation.
With safety uppermost in her mind, she remained as scattered as astral dust in the Milky Way. Inch by inch, she neared the doorway until she hovered close enough to keep an eye on that trailing skirt hem but far enough away to remain safe from outstretched claws. “Mrs. Kroger?”
A snarl was her only reply.
“May I call you Amanda?”
No snarl this time, more like a throaty meow. Hmmm… An interesting response. Based on what she knew about the widow’s past, however, she sensed “Amanda” met with more approval than “Mrs. Kroger.” No woman wanted her name eternally attached to the man who used to beat her for entertainment.
An idea suddenly illuminated the dark corners of her brain. “I’m so sorry, Amanda,” she said on a soft sigh. “You got a raw deal.”
Another meow…or growl? Definitely not mean. More pitiable. Dare she press her luck? Did she have a choice?
Well, yeah. She could fly out of here, admit defeat, and head for the Halfway House where Luc would no doubt delight in crowing about her failure.
Fat chance.
Before she might lose her nerve, she blurted, “Did you love him?”
“No! Never!” roared back from the bowels of whatever room in which the widow had hidden herself. “Bastard. I hated him. Every time he touched me I wanted to kill him.”
“And so you finally gave in to that need inside you?”
A pair of burning eyes appeared in the darkness, pinpoint fire lasers. “Don’t you dare to judge me!”
Jodie skittered backward a little farther. “No judgment, Amanda. Seems to me you’ve already judged yourself far more harshly than any other woman would judge you.”
“They hanged me! For thirty years, I was the one who kept this light blazing. Silas was always too drunk to climb the stairs. And what do I get for all my years of service? They hanged me!”
“Men hanged you.” She kept her voice even and calm, although somewhere in her center, her energy levels rose like spurts of adrenaline. “Because you dared to stand up for yourself. But you know what? You can have the last laugh if you want. I’m here to give you a second chance. This is your opportunity to lead the life you should have lived last time around.”
“No! I’m not putting myself into another human woman’s body, becoming the target of another man’s fists, forced to grit my teeth and bear the pain of him pushing himself into me night after night.” Her voice lowered to a mere whisper, a soft rustle in the dank air. “I’m free here. No one comes near me. No one disturbs me. Except for you.”
Bitterness tinged those last three words, and Jodie winced. Sorrow overwhelmed her, for this poor spirit, for herself, for every woman who’d suffered throughout time. “I won’t be the last.” The reply came out more like a croak so she cleared her throat and straightened her stance, allow
ing a forceful aura to surround her, yet still maintaining some empathy in her tone. “If you don’t return with me tonight, they’ll send others. There is a natural order to our lives and our deaths, Amanda. Trust me. I know firsthand what happens when you screw up that natural order.”
“I don’t give a blessed damn about your natural order. All I want is to be left alone.”
“But don’t you see?” Jodie spread her hands in supplication. “You won’t be left alone. Your time has come to move on. You’re about to experience a new life, and I promise you it will be better this time around.”
She prayed she’d be able to keep that promise. Honestly she didn’t know if the widow’s next life would be better or worse. All she had to go on was her own experiences. In reviewing her past lives, Jodie realized all of them had contained heart-breaking moments, but the promise of joy had at last been hers in this final life. Until she’d screwed up.
What had Sherman said in that first meeting? Something about how he’d watched her suffer? That her marriage to Gabe was to have been her reward for all those years of pain? Would a redeemed Fury be rewarded?
Assuming of course, Jodie could use her powers of persuasion to redeem this poor lost soul. A long shot, but…
The laser beam eyes dimmed to harmless hazel.
A small thrill ran through Jodie, but she kept a lid on her brewing excitement. Apparently, she’d begun to reach some vulnerability in Amanda. But she still had miles to go before she could claim victory. “You deserved better in your last life.” Sympathy softened her words to a whisper.
“Damned right I did.” The shaky emotion disappeared from her tone, making the statement more fact than supposition.
“Things can be different for you in a new life. You wouldn’t have to marry if you don’t want to. And believe it or not, you just might find you want to. Times have changed and so have men and women. The men of your current lifetime didn’t appreciate a strong, smart, accomplished woman the way they did in my current lifetime. Who knows what wondrous adventures await us in a future life?”
“No one appreci—” Her reply stopped in mid-syllable. After a long pause, her silhouette crept across the floor, the black outline edging closer to where Jodie waited. “Wait! Are you saying that in a new life I wouldn’t be under some man’s rule?”
“I’m saying you’ll have another chance, Amanda, to do your life differently. In another time, another place. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Aye.” When the widow stepped into the dim alcove, confirming her reply with a hesitant nod, she no longer resembled Medusa. The harsh lines etched in her forehead and around her lips smoothed away, leaving a face soft as a rose petal.
Easy now. Nice and gentle. Let’s get the hook firmly set before we reel this fish in.
“You might fall in love and find the heaven on Earth you should have experienced with your husband.” The widow’s eyes clouded, and Jodie added a hasty, “If you want to fall in love, of course. You might prefer to remain alone.”
“I’d have that choice?”
“Of course. Women have made some great strides in equal rights while you’ve spent your time locked in this lighthouse.”
The widow’s brow pleated. “Equal rights?”
“Mmm-hmm. These days, under the law, women have all the same rights as men. Education, career, the right to vote… It’s all our choice now. And who knows what will be possible when you reach adulthood in a new life, a new time? Would you like to find out?”
The years flew from Amanda’s visage. In an instant she appeared as she must have looked in the prime of life. The rage evaporated, leaving a gentle woman where the wretched Fury had once stood.
Jodie waited, allowing the widow time to weigh the choices presented to her.
“Yes,” she said at last. “I think I would like to see this new world. What do I have to do?”
On a sigh of relief, Jodie stretched out her arm. “Take my hand.”
And then all hell broke loose.
Chapter 15
When Luc landed inside the cramped circular tower of the lighthouse with the bounty hunters, he discerned nothing but shadows. Still, the smell of fear, sharp and acrid, spiked the air, alerting him to sinister business unfolding in the dark. Enhancing his visual sense, he beheld a scene far worse than he’d imagined. Jodie slumped against the stone wall. Her golden aura pooled over the dank cement floor.
Panic swirled inside him as he pushed his way through the crowd. He dashed forward but stopped short when a hideous creature flew out from the stone crevices, blocking Jodie behind nightshade wings. The Fury’s mouth opened, showing glistening fangs dripping silver saliva. While he stared her down, a strange sensation of bruising fingers gripped his arms. As if he’d become a bobblehead, his head snapped back and forth so hard his teeth rattled. Foul, rum-soaked breath blew in his face and from deep inside his soul, a woman’s scream echoed.
This woman’s scream. Her husband had abused her brutally. While the monster she’d become loomed over him, Luc remained rooted to the spot feeling every beating, every rape, every insult hurled her way as if he’d lived them all himself.
“Luc.” Sean Martino crept up beside him, snapping him back to reality.
Jodie. He had to get to Jodie.
Shit. How the hell could he pull her away from this monster? Had she seen him here before the Fury enveloped her? Did she know her rescue was at hand? “Jodieeeee!”
In reply to his shout, a hellish roar erupted from the Fury’s throat. Before the last shrill syllable faded, a horde of huge black birds descended from above. With raucous caws they encircled Jodie and the Fury like a tornado, swallowing the two women in a screaming ebony vortex.
On mumbles of shock, the other bounty hunters stepped back, leaving Luc and Martino alone near the swirling tirade.
“Goddamit!” He’d need a flaming sword to cut through the swath of ravens.
“Talk to her, Luc.” Sean prompted, so close to the raging storm, the breeze ruffled his blond hair. “See if you can reach her.”
Luc shoved his fingers through his hair to wake up. For Chrissake, he had to get a grip on his roiling emotions. He should have remembered that crazy psychic link before Sean’s advice reminded him. Focusing his gaze on the center of the tumultuous circle, he bored a visual hole between the flapping wings and squawking beaks, aiming for Jodie, who, no doubt, huddled inside, terrified.
Jodie? Can you hear me, babe?
Luc? Over the din, Jodie’s surprise echoed inside him. Dammit, Luc, what are you doing here?
Hang on! He shot upward, rising above the cyclone, frantically seeking an avenue to reach her. The circle of ravens tightened, barring him from seeing so much as a single hair on her head. Goddamn birds.
Just hang on, Jodie. We’ll get you out of this.
Get me out of what? What the hell is going on?
Christ. Hope plummeted. How could she be so totally oblivious to the danger surrounding her? Unless…
Oh, shit. His insides churned into wet gelatin. What if the Fury had found a way to connect to her thought processes—to coerce her into meek submission via the same sensory link he now attempted to use? In fact, how could he be certain Jodie was the one speaking to him? What if the Fury was manipulating the chaos she’d wrought to bring about the destruction of all the Afterlife’s bounty hunters? His ions careened around the idea, like scattered pinballs bouncing against flippers and sidewalls, ringing bells and flashing lights of alarm.
Slowly, carefully, inch by inch, he descended. Reclaiming his place beside Sean, he focused on piercing the fog clouding Jodie’s mind.
You’ve tackled with a Fury, babe. Hang in there and we’ll get you out safe and sound, okay? Just stay calm.
I am calm, she retorted. More so than you, I might add. In fact, you should probably get out of here before you hurt yourself.
A definite warning there. His supposition about the speaker’s true identity solidified to almost fact
. He would have expected Jodie to be traumatized or outright terrified by this experience. But she sounded more pissed than frightened.
Wow. Nothing gets by you, huh, Luc? You’re damn right I’m pissed.
Beside him, Sean shifted his weight. The other hunters followed suit, prepared to attack the moment Luc gave the order. Knowing they couldn’t understand his hesitancy to engage, Luc held up an index finger to signal a pause before continuing his struggle to reach the real Jodie.
What’s got you so pissed? he asked.
You and your clumsy frat brothers have upset poor Amanda.
Who’s Amanda?
Um, hell-o? The woman I came here to retrieve…?
You mean the woman who’s currently holding you prisoner?
Her tongue cluck echoed in his head like the snick of an opened door. She’s not holding me prisoner. She’s terrified and she’s closing in her ranks for protection.
Luc blinked. Once. Twice. All this time, he’d been speaking to Jodie? The real Jodie?
Of course you’re speaking to me. Who did you think you were speaking to? Joan of Arc?
Yep. That was definitely Jodie.
Okay, wait. Let me get this straight. This Amanda has beaten you to a pulp and surrounded you with her minions of darkness. But you’re worried we might have scared her in our rush to get you out of here?
Jodie actually laughed. She didn’t beat me to a pulp. It was a silly misunderstanding. All straightened out now. At least, I had the situation straightened out until you and your gang of idiots crashed the party. Who are these guys anyway?
Bounty hunters. The Board put out an alert for you.
Why would they do that?
Because you were in danger!
I was?
The excitement in her tone tap danced over his annoyance button and prickled the hairs on his nape. And the damned squawking birds only added to his frustration. Furies are dangerous, Jodie. I warned you about them.
Well…Amanda might have been a little dangerous at first. And God knows your arrival with the cavalry here didn’t exactly put her any more at ease. But really, I have things under control. Now if you’ll just go back home, I’ll follow with Amanda once she’s calmed down again.
