Rule Breakers, Soul Takers (Hell Runners Book 1)

by Jacqueline Jayne

  The attempt was laughable. For some reason, his old friend forgot who he was dealing with. “I won’t tell you—I’ll show you.” He pressed buttons with his thumb until a video appeared and then turned the phone around for the boss to witness. “She is utterly amazing. Born to outwit demons.”

  Jack didn’t give the footage a cursory once-over. The rims of his mouth had all but disappeared. “I know. I trained her myself. She’s better than you or Swift.” He got up and circled around to the front of his desk. “You remember—the partner who ran away.” The hardness in his eyes was tempered by something Jesse couldn’t read. “I saw the footage of the night you decided to—take my daughter under your wing, as you say. You know, if you’d have come clean in the first place, you could have had any partner you wanted.”

  “I have the partner I want.”

  “Hmm. Not exactly correct, is it? You’re together because of some first-class arm twisting. Maybe some guilt, too.” He aimed his gaze at his daughter. “Honey, I’d prefer to talk with you alone.”

  Uncrossing her legs, she leaned forward. “As per the Hell Runners handbook, there will be no secrets between partners. Secrets create unseen dangers.” She looked up at Jesse with eyes more sincere than when she cajoled scared souls. “He doesn’t know what happened to Swift and I believe him.”

  “No secrets?” Jack chortled, and his finger twitched the air between them.

  Jesse’s stomach wadded up tight. There were, of course, but Jack didn’t need to share them. Now or ever.

  “Of course not,” she said.

  “All business. Okay then. I’ll skip the speech you wouldn’t listen to anyway.” Jack leaned back on his desk. “I’m proud of you, Pruddy. You went after what you wanted with both barrels, like your old man. I know you think I’ve been harder on you than other rookies. And I was. I had to be. Any hint of nepotism could have created a rift between you and the other Hell Runners.”

  “Are you saying you wanted me to defy you?” She shifted uncomfortably in the chair, and Jesse suspected she didn’t believe her father any more than he did.

  “You had to prove your mettle. More than the others.” He patted her knee, a grin plastered in place. “And you did in spades. Now, the other Runners tell me my daughter’s a total badass. And all of them are begging to be your partner.” His eyes shifted to Jesse. “You too, Renegade. You’ve been redeemed thanks to Prudence.” He placed a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “It’s why I wanted to talk to you alone, sweetheart. If you’d prefer a more amiable partner, someone without attitude—the arrangements can be made today.”

  Prudence turned scarlet, and for a moment Jesse thought she’d break and become Jack’s indignant, foot-stompin’ princess again. In a five-count she spoke, calm and self-assured. “It’s important to know we’re admired members of the Hell Runners team, but Jesse’s my partner. There is no need for your offer.”

  “You feel the same way, Hotshot?” Jack’s eyes cut to him. “I’m extending you the same offer. Now’s your chance to get off the hook.”

  From the corner of his eye, he saw her shoot him a surreptitious wink. A little tingle shot through his Blessed Eye as if it could wink back.

  She’d lied for him, a little—which meant a lot. Without question, she sensed he still withheld information about Swift. He saw it in her eyes that first night and every night ever since. Yet, she’d kept her promise and never mentioned finding Swift again. Though it was a small field of competition, she’d proven to be the best partner he’d ever known.

  “No hook,” he said. “We’re solid.”

  Jack clicked his tongue and stood. “I thought you’d say that.” He punched a button on the phone’s base and called to Peggy. “Mrs. Stephenson, please send in Constance Larkin.”

  The boss smiled, but something about it seemed off. Mechanical? Or maniacal?

  “Since this is a special occasion…” Jack met Constance halfway across the room. “I took the liberty of having your next mission delivered here.”

  Constance, heir to the Larkin council chair, was the youngest member on the board. Like her late father, she’d been graced with the ability to identify the lost who needed saving. Every mission ended at the hands of any one of a hundred different Runners, but every mission began with Connie or one of the twenty other oracles from Philly, Paris, Zurich, or Stanford.

  Jack accepted the exceptionally thin assignment envelope. “Thank you.”

  Turning away from her, he treated her like she was nothing more than a messenger from the mail room and not the pulse of Hell Runners Mission Control.

  Connie deliberately latched her big brown eyes onto Jesse’s, giving her head a slight shake. A warning? His stomach braced.

  By this time, Prudence was on her feet, smoothing out her skirt with one eye on Jesse and the eye other on the envelope her father held out like fresh bait.

  “Didn’t you need to speak with Prudence?” Jack spoke over his shoulder to Connie.

  A phony smile lit her face. “Yes, I do. We need to complete the onboard interview for human resources. Do you mind if I steal her for a little while?”

  “Not at all.” Jack bussed his daughter’s cheek with a peck, withholding the envelope. “We’re done here. I’ll give the orders to your trustworthy partner for safe keeping. The two of you can review them later.”

  Nothing short of a military tight turn, he returned to his desk without passing off the assignment envelope to Jesse. Obviously, his portion of the meeting was nowhere near done. “Come to dinner soon, sweetheart. We miss you.”

  “Hey,” he called to his partner’s back. He tried to relay Connie’s trepidation without being caught. “Call me when you’re done.”

  “Charge your phone, dude.” Though her reply was light, her eyes reflected the wariness in his gut.

  He watched her sashay out the door and hoped the oracle would find a way to confide in his partner while under the watchful eye of the council cameras.

  “She grew up pretty, didn’t she?” Jack said.

  So much more than a little pretty. On high alert, Jesse knew to temper his response. “Didn’t notice, sir.”

  “It’s a shame. She’s going to hate you by this time tomorrow. If you’d had half a brain, you would have dated her, instead of all this partner nonsense.” He passed the envelope to Jesse and then slapped a hand on his shoulder. Jesse could see in his eyes the threat he’d probably been sitting on for the better part of two weeks. “You should have accepted a new partner. I hope you both enjoy your last mission.”

  »»•««

  The door to Jesse’s apartment opened before Prudence could knock. He’d been watching for her, a new and unwelcome trait considering the circumstances. She didn’t need to see the downturn of his mouth or the furrow of his brow to confirm her suspicions.

  They had walked into some kind of trap.

  “I got here as fast as I could. There’s something wrong. I could see it on Connie’s face. She asked me like a thousand questions about us.”

  Jesse stepped onto the stoop and pulled the door closed. His left hand balled, crinkling the envelope containing their mission details. He kept his voice low. “We need to leave.”

  “What is it? What did he say to you?” She reached for the mission orders.

  Mouth set in a grim line, he handed her the mauled envelope. “This is your first soul carry. I’m to run the demons.”

  “Soul carry? So soon?”

  Pride and excitement ballooned inside her despite the trouble she sensed. She slipped a finger into the jagged opening. Before she could remove the details, Jesse clasped his fist over hers. The warmth of his skin woke a thousand goose bumps from their sleep. Two weeks on the job, and she hadn’t desensitized to any of the Jesse-perks. In fact, the perks accumulated with each passing day.

  Leaning down, he whispered. “Not here.” The brush of his lips over the outer rim of her ear teased a shiver out of her. Would her attraction ever end?

 
He cocked his head toward the apartment complex sign, and realization dawned on her. Every residence was inhabited by Hell Runners and owned by the Society. No one kidded themselves into believing they lived a private life, and whatever Jesse had to say, he wanted to keep it confidential.

  Still close, his breath tickled softly against her neck as he took the envelope out of her hands. “Go change out of those glad rags. And grab your leather jacket so we can take my bike. I've got to prepare you.”

  Prepare her?

  In the past fourteen days since they'd become partners, they never really needed to prepare, not other than to study the target. Jesse carried souls. Prudence led demons astray. Now because she would carry, Jesse had his under-tighties in a bunch?

  No. He wouldn’t begrudge her the soul carry. He’d commented time and again how he longed for a turn at the demons. That thought alone made the contents of the envelope all the more ominous.

  She changed into jeans and a sweatshirt in less than three minutes, tossing her good suit and silky blouse in a heap on the bed. The motorcycle rumbled outside, and she ran to the curb.

  Speeding over back roads, he took them on a circuitous route toward I-76 but bypassed the onramp. Ten minutes later, he pulled into a construction site, the future home of another specialized medical center, driving beyond the stacks of concrete block and into the diminishing woods soon to be stripped away for a parking garage. He killed the engine, and she hopped off the bike first, eagerly discarding her helmet.

  Slowly, he swung a leg over the seat and wrenched off his own helmet. Every muscle in his face had set so tight she could have used his square jaw for a straight edge.

  She waited patiently while he shrugged out of his jacket and spread it over a mossy triangle between exposed tree roots. Maybe he expected her to sit beside him, but nerves kept her on her feet.

  The trees rustled in a light April wind, their branches bursting with new leaves for probably the last time in their long lives. How unfortunate something beautiful had to die to make room for something beneficial.

  She had the feeling the same was true for them.

  “Let’s have it. What did Dad say to you?”

  “It’s not so much what he said. It’s what I know.” He removed their orders from the inner pocket of his jacket and held it out to her. “This is a burn directive.”

  “A what?”

  “Burn directive. Most Runners don’t know about it. You have to be…” He hesitated. “Singled-out. The mission is a sort of lesson.”

  “Well, that’s not at all vague.”

  “Read the orders. You’ll understand.” Though they were hidden in the woods, he kept his voice quiet.

  She took the envelope, and her fingers started to tremble.

  “Go on. Read it.” He squatted and then dropped his behind onto his jacket.

  Sliding the single sheet free, she read it once through.

  Disbelief, denial, outrage, it was difficult to distinguish one of her emotions from the other. Before she reached the last line, tears stung the backs of her eyes. More than sadness weighed heavy on her heart. The old feelings of faith-crippling injustice returned.

  She crimped the sheet with one hand to keep from losing it to the wind and pinched her tear ducts. Badasses didn’t cry, and she had a reputation to uphold. Instead, she read the orders three times over, inviting indignation to override her sadness. It wasn’t difficult. The closing lines were killer.

  Take the child, but do not under any circumstance accept the mother's soul. No matter what. She is condemned. Leave her behind.

  Burn directive.

  No wonder Jesse couldn’t explain. The full weight hit her hard, like exposed lies. Heat flooded her ears and cheeks. Her knees locked into place.

  “Simple answer, Jess. No soft-peddling. Is the burn directive for the mother?” She swallowed hard. “Or for me, too?”

  “Add me to the list.” He stood and rubbed the back of his neck. His eyes had shrunken to hangover size. “And if we don’t follow orders, this is it. We sacrifice our jobs.”

  “And if I leave the mother behind, I sacrifice my soul.”

  “That’s the test and Jack’s counting on you to walk away. He doesn’t have to fire you and look like a hard-ass. And if you quit now, you’ll never be allowed back. You’ll be labeled a coward.”

  “Never mind us. This is unfair to her.” She held up the letter. “We don’t know the circumstances behind her imprisonment.” The single sheet flapped in the breeze. “This is the first time we haven’t been supplied backstory on the target.”

  “Technically she’s not the target, her son is, and a toddler doesn’t have much history or sin. Don’t discount that the mother might not be eligible to leave. She may not be lost.”

  “Are you siding with Dad? Are you saying we do the job without question?” She studied his face and his body language for telltale signs of the truth.

  “No. I’m leaving the choice up to you.” He shook his head. “We don’t get to question or argue with the council. It’s do the job or not do the job. I said I was your partner and I meant it. This is your carry, so I will support whatever decision you make. If you want to walk away”—his amber eyes gleamed— “then I’ll walk away beside you.”

  Prudence squeezed her eyes shut against the excruciating pain of losing.

  Two glorious weeks. Her father wouldn’t allow one day more.

  Worse yet, both of their futures hung on her decision. How could Dad do this to her? Or to another soul, simply to prove a point?

  This wasn’t like the Jack Luckett who raised her.

  She wanted to collapse and felt herself waver. But if she opened her eyes, the tears would fall, and she swore she wasn’t a crier.

  “Maybe your stupid question wasn’t so stupid after all.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There’s a whole world out there we haven’t seen. Maybe we should consider other options.” His voice had turned soft as the cotton sweatshirt against her cheek.

  One eye fluttered open, her lashes grazing the gray fleece stretched across his wide chest. When had he wrapped his arms around her? His hands had started skimming up and down over the back of her worn-out sweatshirt, and the heat of her anger morphed into a more dangerous fire. One exposed emotion dredged up all the ones she’d worked so hard to hide.

  And what was Jesse suggesting? Give up everything they knew?

  Together?

  She eased back a few inches to search his face. Search for what, she wasn’t sure.

  “You didn’t answer me.”

  Unable to read his expression, she shook her head. “I don’t know. Everything I ever wanted”—she dry swallowed— “is right here.”

  It seemed more than consolation, more than being partners locked his gaze onto hers.

  But Jess was a hard read in the best of circumstances. It could all be in her head.

  “You mean you never dreamed of being something ridiculous like a ballerina or a lady wrestler.” He grinned at his weak jab.

  “No, smartass.” Hands trapped between them, she flexed her fingers playfully against his chest. He stiffened but didn’t back away.

  “Or a mother. You don’t have to have a career, you know.”

  “That’s very nineteen-fifties of you.”

  “No, it’s not.” His brow furrowed like she’d insulted him. “All I’m saying is life isn’t over if you’re not a Hell Runner.”

  “Is that true about you?” Without thinking, her thumbs began drawing small circles over his ribcage. “Is there someone else you want to be?”

  He stepped back then, and the chilly spring air cut between them. She’d crossed some line, either verbally or physically. The imprint of his body dissipated fast, reminding her of life before Jesse. A life she seemed doomed to live again.

  “I wish there was,” he said at last, his posture going rigid. “But saving souls is all I know.”

  He was wrong about himself. Jesse knew
about cars and sports and the nuances of the human struggle most people couldn’t comprehend or chose to ignore. He could cash in and become the best mechanic or most understanding psychologist or the smoothest talking politician if he had the mind.

  No. Saving souls wasn’t all Jesse knew.

  But it was the most important thing.

  “I understand,” she said, stepping toward him with the same caution she’d use for approaching an injured animal.

  “I know you do. You always got it. I noticed during your training, you were more intuitive, more caring.”

  “Funny, the impression I had was the exact opposite.” She stopped her approach when she got as far as his bike. “I have to ask. Back there, in Dad’s office, you said the two of you discussed placing me in the field?”

  “I fought for two years to get you assigned to demon duty. You’re extremely gifted and dedicated to the job. There was no reason to keep you in research.”

  “Then why did you contest becoming my partner?”

  He sidestepped closer and nestled his butt on the motorcycle saddle. “Up until that point, I truly believed you should enter Hell like any other rookie, with limited access so you could grow into the job. And definitely not with a seasoned partner that would lead you halfway to the Paris Gate and back. No matter what anyone might think, I’m not one for circumventing the process. Rules have become rules for a reason.”

  “But you relented?”

  “Not so much relenting as trying to scare you off. You knocked on my door prepared to run off half-cocked after Swift. I’d no intention of staying, but I didn’t want you traversing Hell on your own. It’s too damn dangerous. And you’re too damn stubborn. I thought if you got a serious dose of deep Hell, you’d return to the safety of the research department. I could leave knowing you’d be okay.”

  He lifted her hand and stroked the soft skin on top with his thumb, eliciting a delightful quiver she hoped he couldn’t notice.

  “But you turned out to be different. Either staying in research or working your way up would have tormented you—and all your partners.” He chuckled. “It turns out you’re safer in the field on official business than stirring up trouble back at headquarters.” He squeezed her fingers, the simplicity thrilling. “I’m safer, too.”