Then kill it.
Movement in her peripheral vision disrupted her thoughts. Her head jerked to the right, and she pivoted, searching for the shadow.
Nothing. But her empathetic gift kicked in without conscious thought. A shiver claimed her spine. Every hair on her body stiffened.
“Jess. We're not alone.” She cleared the porch steps in three running strides.
“Of course not.” His condescending glare targeted her again. “It’s why only teams pass through the Gate.” He narrowed his eyes and pointed an index finger that nearly touched the end of her nose. “Never. Ever. Step through by yourself.”
Enough. Whether he was testing her patience or not, he had no business ordering her around like she was a year one rookie. She pushed his perpetually accusing finger aside. “You're preaching to the choir.”
“Really? Two hours ago you threatened to enter Hell alone.”
Caught, heat bloomed in her cheeks. “You know I didn’t mean it.”
“Sure sounded like you did.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“I was frustrated. But you know me, Thorne. I always followed the rules.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Not sure that’s true.”
“Of course, it’s true. Especially rules that make good sense.”
“I meant knowing you.” He cocked an eyebrow. “You’re a shitload of contradictions, Luckett.”
“Seriously? I’m the shitload?” Subtle activity from all compass points prickled the hairs on her arms, and her frontal lobe hummed softly. Her focus darted from tree to tree in search of the skittering shadow. “Let's get inside,” she said. “I don't have a good feeling.”
“Now you're talking like a Runner.” Jesse nodded. “In and out.”
He opened the screen door, and it sang a sour note. Stepping back for her to enter, he checked out the yard one more time. No doubt his second sight honed in on the activity she could only feel.
She turned the knob and pushed inside. Jesse followed, closing the door without a sound.
They stood side by side in the foyer, an entryway large enough to be a family room. A glass and brass chandelier hung over a round wooden occasional table adorned with a flower arrangement.
No sparkle. No shine. No scent. The teasing scent of cornbread had disappeared. A thin film of dust and ash coated everything like powdered sugar on a fried fritter.
“Guess he doesn’t have time to clean,” she quipped sarcastically.
Jesse ignored her. “We’ll try it the easy way first. Timothy?” he called without shouting. “Time to go.”
No answer.
Her gaze swept over the entryway to the central staircase where it disappeared into the darkness above. In every cranny, cobwebs knitted curtains over curtains, and a cool draft swirled up from the floor. Could they have gone to the wrong house? It didn’t look like anyone had lived there in a long time.
“You’re on Empath. Find the target.”
“Me?” she squeaked out.
“That’s the way it works. One Visionary, one Empath to a team.” He leaned back against the far wall and shot her a look that dared her to fail. “You didn’t think we were out for a stroll, did you?”
“Of course not.”
Unexpectedly struck nervous, she closed her eyes as much to hide from his scrutiny as to concentrate. Alone behind her eyelids, years of training kicked in. Autonomously, she tapped into the facts she’d memorized from the mission paper, and a little hum started from the front center of her brain.
“Oh my god. I’m doing it.” Her energy intensified, and she let go of all conscious thought, allowing her mind to swing across the metaphysical expanse.
The freedom to fully engage her gift for the first time was exhilarating. Limbs trembling with the new power, she reached for the stability of the hall table. She grabbed the edge one-handed, and a layer of thick dust caked onto her damp palm. With the swiftness of a bullet, her soul latched onto the aura of the lost attorney. Her body arched forward as if shot, the connection violating her long-protected center.
“Prudence. Prudence.” Jesse’s harsh voice barely registered through the haze in her brain. “Snap out of it. Come on.” He shook her shoulders hard, whipping her head back.
Her eyes flicked open, and she met Jesse’s worried gaze. In that instant she slipped, her empathetic gift drifting off the lost soul and taking advantage of Jesse’s openness.
He felt genuine concern where she suspected irritation. In fact, behind his hard-assed façade, her partner hid a well of emotional strength so deep his soul seemed an endless frontier.
Startled at her own brazenness, she broke the connection and whirled to face the door.
Shit. She’d ruined everything with rookie carelessness.
Guard down, everything about Jesse proved too hard to resist. And she couldn’t deny how much she wanted to get lost inside him. How much she wanted to do it again. To explore the side that made him capable of this impossible job. And so much more.
But it would never happen.
Though her probe lasted mere seconds, he must have felt it.
She braced for his retaliation. Her heart raced, but she swam joyfully in the imprint of Jesse. Her brief taste of him ignited a craving unlike any other.
So much for killing her desire.
“I don’t blame you for being freaked out. From what I hear, the first time’s a helluva rush,” Jesse said.
“I’m not freaked out.” She stole a tentative glance over her shoulder. “Just—”
“Freaked out.” He grinned. “It’s okay. You didn’t cry, and part of me thought you might.”
Thank God. He showed no indication he’d been touched. Her heart slowed, but she vowed to be more careful from now on.
“For your information,” she said with fake swagger. “I’m not a crier.”
“I’m going to hold you to that. I can’t bear sniveling.”
Free and clear, she focused again on the insistent buzzing in her head. She was finally doing what she was born to do and no partner, no matter how sexy or intriguing, was going to keep her from doing it.
“My turn to lead.” The buzzing called to her from deep in the house.
She elbowed past Jesse, avoiding eye contact. He followed dutifully as she led him down the center hallway, through the dining room, and into the empty study.
“He should be right here,” she said, turning a circle. “The feeling is so strong it hurts.”
Jesse eyed the crown molding. “I’ve seen something like this before.” He crossed to the floor-to-ceiling bookcase, covering one wall. “There’s a secret room behind those books.” In another five seconds, he located a foot lever, depressed it, and heaved the door open along hidden tracks.
In the wide but shallow cubby, their targeted soul—Timothy Bushnell, Esq.—was curled up in a narrow, upholstered chair. Arms wrapped around his knees, he sat stock-still. A mop of salt and pepper gray hair hung low over his brow. Waves of intense anxiety lapped the air like ripples in a pond. She suffered his fear with him, the downside of her gift.
“Timothy.” Jesse extended his hand, open palm up. “Come with us.”
The old soul raised his head and regarded them with dark, suspicious eyes.
“Please don’t be afraid.” He backed up, giving the old man time to adjust.
Not too much time, she hoped. Her shiver meter had shifted into overdrive.
“You don’t belong here. We’re getting you out.”
“I’m not falling for that trick again. Leave.” Timothy’s words heated the room. Literally. Like a blowtorch flaming from his mouth, his exclamation hit the air. Burning chunks the size of fireflies fluttered and then turned to ashes at his feet.
Prudence glanced down at the dust clinging to her hand. The house wasn’t dirty but was covered in the residue of screams and prayers. A wickedly, genius torture for a man of words. Her heart ached as never before.
A shadow flitted past a side window. The
demons were gathering. Years of training drilled home the wisdom of open spaces, and the elaborate Victorian house was a mousetrap. Her ribs clamped around her heart.
“Take him, Jess,” she said. “In and out, remember? We gotta go.”
“You know I can’t. He must exercise free will.” Jesse moved closer to Timothy, keeping his voice composed. “This is not a trick. We were sent to relocate you.”
The man stood and then slinked along the wall and into the study, putting more space between him and Jesse. “Where?”
Spark. Cinder.
“Heaven. You were never supposed to be here,” she said, exuding all the compassion she felt. Casually, she took a few steps to her left, blocking his exit to the rest of the house. They couldn’t risk having to chase him down with demons circling.
The old man’s face twisted in consternation. “Why? How?” Flame. Dust.
“You were lured here, by a vision of your own home, the wish within your heart,” Jesse said, inching closer to him. “Hell created this prison from your strongest memories. It looks like where you’re supposed to be—only it’s not. Frustration makes you a demon’s prize.”
She could see Tim’s mind turning, processing, and then realization.
“How could I have been so foolish?”
Flame spewed from his mouth, and another wad of ash floated to the floor. Each sound he made had to hurt. It hurt her to watch him speak.
“We’re human.” Jesse smiled, all genuine and warm. “There are more mistakes in us than water or blood. But that doesn’t mean we’re unworthy. It means we have to work harder. Now I need you to trust me and do what I say. We'll get you out, I promise.”
Who wouldn't trust that man? After listening to him comfort Old Tim, she did.
More than ever.
Another shadow crisscrossed the fake sunlight pooling on the deep window seat on the west side of the room. Prudence's heart pattered faster. They needed to leave before an army formed.
The old soul opened his mouth, but she cut him off.
“Don’t speak,” she ordered. “Do.”
He nodded and looked to Jesse for instructions.
“You can’t leave here in this form. You're too vulnerable to the demons.” He tapped his chest. “You must hide inside me.”
Tim crinkled his face in disgust and shook his head.
“You're soul, not flesh, and can't leave in your current state. Protected in my body, you can pass through the Gates of Hell unfettered. Unharmed.”
A larger shadow crossed boldly in front of the window, joining the waiting ranks of demons. “Get on with it, Jess,” she urged, trying not to sound panicky.
“Step into me, and I'll absorb you. But it must be voluntary. Once we’re on the other side of the Gate, Heaven’s light will come, and you'll leave my body.”
Timothy looked skeptical and hopeful at the same time. Still, he didn’t budge.
The back door rattled, and Prudence considered the definition of free will.
It was plain to see and feel, Timothy wanted freedom like a child wanting to jump into a cold pool but afraid of the shock. By that definition, mere wanting was free will, and she’d always been grateful for the friends who would toss her in, kicking and screaming.
Unsure it would work but willing to try anything, she ran at Old Tim’s back and propelled herself, full-force, through the hesitant soul. Somehow, she gave him the push he needed. He disappeared, and Jesse’s body lurched in acceptance.
But her momentum carried the act farther than she’d intended. Unable to put on the brakes, she mashed face first into Jesse’s chest.
He grabbed her by the upper arms. “Whoa there, Princess.”
His velvety drawl filled her ear and seeped into places she didn't know a voice could stimulate. His muscled middle crushed her breasts, and her head swam with an elixir of musky cologne and male sweat. Every inch of her body reacted with wanton lust. No matter how good it felt, this was not the time or the place. Or the man.
“You weren't supposed to do that.” His simple statement carried a hard edge.
It took her a beat to realize Jesse meant pushing Timothy and not her hands molded around his ribcage. She forced herself back from his magnetic embrace.
“Is the asset locked and loaded?”
“Yep,” he answered without any suspicion she'd turned to soupy cornmeal.
“Then quit complaining.”
He pursed his lips and jogged past her. She followed close, all the way to the front door. At the threshold, he stopped so short she almost barreled into him again.
He glanced out the half-moon window. “We’ve got plenty of company.”
“No kidding?”
Jesse winced and rubbed a hand over his chest in a circular motion.
“Timothy still talking?”
“Yeah, and he's sure got a mouth on him.” His shoulders rolled forward and he bent at the waist, chuckling, but his predicament wasn't funny at all.
She brushed a fingertip over the front of her shirt, finding the silver Hell Runners pendant dangling low from a chain around her neck. The silver of a trainee, not gold. Only Field Runners received gold pendants. All the same, the simple piece of jewelry meant the world to her. She’d had it engraved with the phrase God’s Badass. When she doubted herself or even the Big Guy’s existence, she’d touch it. Somehow that had been enough reminder never to give up. If ever she needed strength, it was now.
“You need to get you back to Philly, pronto. If Old Tim keeps talking, he’ll burn you from the inside out.” Stepping between him and the door, she grabbed the knob. “I'll handle ditching the goons. You keep running for the Gate.”
“You're still a rookie. You've never shaken a tail alone and—”
“Save the sermon. You’re in no condition to take point.” She cracked the door, and a sliver of cheerful sunlight cut across the scuffed floor.
Jesse straightened. “Can't let you do it.”
She laid a gentle palm against his chest and looked up into his face. “We took an oath. You can and will to protect the soul you carry. That's our primary directive. Believe me—I've every intention of riding your wake out of here.”
“We can’t split up. We’re in too deep.” Regret tinged his golden tiger eyes. “You don't know what you're up against.”
“And neither do you. To quote HR’s toughest instructor, ‘every mission is different.’”
He huffed and shook his head. She wasn't sure if his attitude was aimed at the restless soul or her for using his own lesson against him.
“What are you afraid of, Jess? That the demons that might devour us or the real possibility I'm as good as my teacher?”
Chapter Five
How dare Prudence accuse him of hubris? Jesse walked to the edge of the porch, struggling to keep his temper in check. She didn't know squat about him or his true abilities. Tempted as he was to tell her—hell, show her—he reined it all in.
She was right about one thing. The soul he carried took precedence over all else. He scanned for the dark hunters, concentrating beyond the obvious and peeling back the Hell-made façade. No one else possessed his ability, including the supremely gifted Chancellor’s Princess.
Joining him at the porch rail, her supersonic aura revved like a pace car at Daytona, and her thrumming demon-sense almost obliterated his special sight.
“What’s the Blessed-Eye say?” Her remark bordered on mocking. She was losing points fast, not that she was capable of changing Jesse’s mind in the first place.
“Six, two on each side of the main drag and two on a side street. Each one is hiding behind a different house.”
“I don’t doubt the eye, Jesse, but it feels like more.”
He couldn’t deny her powerful gift to sense danger any more than his own sight, but he'd never been wrong before. “Don’t matter. Only takes one to ruin your day. Is your earpiece working?”
Prudence tapped the mechanical bud with her fingertips, and he hear
d her answer deep in his right ear canal. “Yes, boss.” Her lips quirked into a defiant smirk.
“Christ. Take this seriously. And don't stray too far. If we get separated, for any reason, meet me at the Gathering Rock.”
“Then keep up,” she said, challenging him on a hushed breath and a grin. With too much zeal, she leaped off the porch without touching a step.
So much for riding his wake. She took to the imaginary streets of the old attorney's mind faster than a Hemi-boosted Dodge. The demon posse took chase, and she led them on a zigzag path off the main street. No doubt they were magnetized by her aura. With proper nurturing, it could prove her greatest gift. Shame she'd never get to use it in the field again. All her gifts would be wasted behind a stack of books after tonight.
He tore out for the Gate but kept the blur of Prudence leading the demons off to his left.
Poor demons. Despite his apprehension at letting her go it alone, he had every confidence she would leave them chasing each other. Angel-fast and carefree, he had to haul ass to keep up. He didn't dare lose sight of Jack Luckett's Princess on her first solo ditch-and-switch.
She shouted a taunt at the minions and then dodged deeper into the streets. The haze of her disappeared from his view. Thanks to his special sight, at least he could still see the demons. Two confused minions lost her trail entirely, two backtracked to the house, but two more split off in an entirely different direction.
Jesse’s heart lurched. One misstep and she’d be surrounded.
Shit.
He depressed the button on his earpiece and shouted, “Prudence.”
No answer. Either the communication device was broken, or she was incapacitated. He banked left onto a side street and then a quick right onto a parallel street, praying for a glimpse of her.
Forever anxious, Timothy twisted inside of Jesse, the heat of his frightened words enflaming his insides from head to toe. He stumbled to a stop. The excruciating pain stole every thought but one.
Get Timothy out.
Hands to his knees, he focused on the terrified man, engaging his runner-to-soul powers. He soothed and updated him. The Gate was so close and Heaven so near.
Rule Breakers, Soul Takers (Hell Runners Book 1) Page 5
