Vengeance Borne (21 page)

Micah lay in the guestroom bed, the afternoon sun piercing through a gap in the heavy curtains, letting in a sharp blade of light. He rolled the prescription bottle in his palm, listening to the pills rattle around inside. How many days had it been since he’d taken any? Two? Three? Though he’d gone to bed on a sour note, he knew Trish wasn’t angry. A benefit of finally allowing his emotional feelers to roam. He hadn’t seen the older woman yet, but he felt her presence, sensed her emotions. She’d been projecting them as well, letting him know it was okay to emerge from his cave.

Trish finished with his wounds around three o’clock in the morning and she’d gone straight to bed, exhausted from the effort it took to heal him and grumbling that a woman her age had no business being up in the wee hours of the morning. Micah hadn’t been as eager to get to sleep. He needed time to unwind, process the events of the night, the things he’d seen. His mind hadn’t fully wrapped around the encounter with the Goblin or Trish’s healing touch until close to seven in the morning. And when he’d finally fallen to sleep, he’d fallen hard. A wonderful, dark, empty slumber that swallowed him whole. Rewarded for his hard work, his rest started off peaceful. The first real stretch of sleep he’d had in years.

Not surprisingly, the dreams began toward the last hour of sleep as the REM fought for supremacy in his mind. The vision tormented him, and he still felt the gnawing ache of it in his chest. A bright light reflected and bounced off the far wall, followed by the crunch of gravel under the roar of a throaty diesel engine. Micah’s stomach flipped once and he stuffed the dream to the back of his mind. It could wait until after he saw her.

Emerging from the guestroom, he ran a hand over the stubbly hair on his head.
Getting a little long
, he thought.
I need to have it buzzed
. He smoothed the rumpled clothes he hadn’t even bothered to change out of last night. Would she notice? He descended the stairs that branched off to the kitchen, knowing instinctively that she’d be there.

Jacquelyn sat at the table, sipping from a glass of iced tea. She stared straight ahead, her mind obviously miles away from Trish’s dining room. Mouth turned downward, a frown marred her forehead, and her clear green eyes were strangely vacant.
Beautiful
. He couldn’t put his finger on what exactly it was about her that took his breath away. Perhaps it was her hard exterior, the wild fierceness that masked so much emotion and tenderness. Jacquelyn was certainly nice to look at, but that wasn’t what attracted Micah to her. It was her
soul
that was beautiful. That’s what made his breath stall out in his chest as he stopped three steps from the kitchen to stare.

“It never felt this way with Finn.” Jacquelyn kept her eyes straight ahead. After a moment, she turned, fixing her gaze on him. “Why is that?”

“You’re asking me?” Micah snorted, taking the last three steps and approaching the table. “I don’t know the answers to anything.”

“No wonder he’s pissed,” she said more to herself than him. “Finn can feel it, too. It’s the only explanation. He knows. It was always easy for him to see through me, even when I shut down.”

Her dark mood put a damper on Micah’s fantasy of how the afternoon would go. She’d be a lot easier to read if he opened up and searched her feelings, but he’d promised he wouldn’t do that. No matter how tempting. “Are you okay?” The question sounded lame as it escaped his fool mouth. Too late to take it back, though. Of course, she wasn’t okay.

Jacquelyn focused on his face as if seeing him for the first time and her expression softened, her eyes more lucid. “I’m fine.” She graced him with a wan smile. “Sometimes I think out loud. Sorry.”

“No big deal,” Micah said, taking a seat across from her. “It helps to talk things out, even if it is a one-sided conversation.”

Jacquelyn’s smile brightened, and he relaxed in his chair. The afternoon might not be a total loss. He just needed to distract her from whatever emotional conflict raged inside of her. What better way to divert her attention than work. “Did you get any sleep after you left? Last night was wild.”

“Tame, actually.” She swirled the ice around her glass. “Goblins aren’t too hard to deal with. I haven’t been to bed yet.” She shrugged. “It happens.”

“How often do you deal with creatures like that?” Micah wondered. Might be nice to know the average. “I mean, is this an every night thing, or once or twice a year?”

“It depends. There are lots of factors. McCall sits near a ley line which amps up the frequency of supernatural activity in the area.”

“Ley line?” Micah asked. What in the hell was that?

“A ley line is like a highway of magical energy. It allows for supernatural creatures to commute from whatever plane they live on into the human world. They can travel from state to state in a matter of minutes rather than miles, and magical energy is super strong near ley lines as well, which naturally draws humans and non-humans alike. You’d be surprised how many early settlements were built on ley lines. Of course, the pioneers had no clue they were setting up camp near a magical freeway. It just felt right to stop and put down roots.”

“Wow.” The last thing he expected this morning was an impromptu history lesson. He doubted he’d find that info in any American History textbook. “Sounds complicated.”

“Not really.” Jacquelyn shrugged. “Magic is as complicated as you choose to make it. Moon phases, solstices, seasons all contribute to supernatural activity, too. We’re in the middle of a double whammy right now, so it’s hella-busy.”

“Double whammy how?” Good to know the high level of action was abnormal.

“This month is the Hunter’s Moon. The biggest, brightest full moon of the year. Brings lots of mojo with it if you know what I mean. Plus, the Furies aren’t helping the problem. Because of the amount of violence and negative energy they bring, it draws an eager following of supernatural baddies. They all want the same thing.”

Micah leaned forward in his seat. “Such as?”

“Chaos,” Jacquelyn answered, plain and simple. “Nothing but roving madness.”

“I guess we’d better put a stop to it then, before it gets even more out of hand.” Never in his life had Micah felt like fighting for a cause. Every day had been a struggle against the torment of his dreams, the inexplicable emotions that swirled within him, feelings he knew weren’t his. And here he sat, throwing down, going to war against his nightmares. Ready to make a sacrifice if it helped one innocent person. If it helped
her
.

“Tell me more about these ley lines.” Micah was fascinated by the fact that magical energy ran all around him and he’d never known it. “If I stepped on one, would I feel it? You know, like an electrical shock or something?”

A corner of Jacquelyn’s mouth quirked in a half-smile. “Maybe, but only because as a Bearer, you’re inherently sensitive to magic. A normal person probably wouldn’t feel anything but maybe a slight draw of curiosity. Maybe even a little euphoria. A ley line
is
a power current, though. Energy that runs like a web from power point to power point across the globe. There’s a ley line not far from here that intersects with the forty-fifth parallel. Supernatural creatures are ultra-sensitive to the energy and flock to it. That’s why a town as small as McCall can have such a huge supernatural problem.”

Well, that was something new. Micah didn’t know why he should be surprised, though. Hadn’t he been on the receiving end of an almost-ass-kicking from a Goblin the night before? Were magic highways of energy any harder to swallow?

Jacquelyn’s expression turned dubious, as if remembering the night before as well and wondering whether or not she could trust him in the field. “I need a Bearer if we’re going to find out who’s under the Furies’ spell. Trish doesn’t function in that capacity anymore, and I can’t work with Finn right now, but I can’t lose my focus worrying about you, either. Can you guarantee me you’ll be one-hundred percent?”

“Five by five.” Micah gave a crisp salute.

Her easy laughter warmed his heart. “Funny. You have a secret past as a Navy Seal you’re not telling me about?”

“Did it look that way last night?”

She laughed a little harder, and he thought his chest would burst from the fill of emotion. “You’re gonna need a crash course to roll with me.”

“What do you have in mind, gang-banger one-oh-one?”

Jacquelyn stood, looking far too invigorated for claiming no sleep. She tossed her ice in the sink and set the glass on the counter. “We’ll work on your lingo later. Let’s start with something light. Target practice.”

“You weren’t impressed with my gun-slinging last night?” he joked as he followed her out the back door.

“Wyatt Earp, you’re not,” she said. “But maybe by the end of the day your hand won’t shake when you aim.”

“That impressive, huh?”

Jacquelyn opened the door to a small outbuilding at the rear of Trish’s house. It looked like a common garden shed, but when Micah peered inside his laughter spluttered out against his will. The shed contained a full arsenal, worthy of any cult compound. “Does ATF have their eye on Trish?” he asked. “Holy shit, that’s a lot of guns.”

“Please,” she scoffed, selecting two guns and ammo from the pegboard racks. “That’s nothing. You should see her root cellar.”

The sarcastic smile faded from Micah’s face. He’d been sleeping above an armory. “You’re shitting me.”

“Can’t fight evil without packing a little heat.” Jacquelyn loaded the clips with shells and drove each one into the butt of a gun. “Ready?”

“Bearer Boot Camp?”

“Yeah.” She handed him a gun similar to the one she kept holstered under her arm. “And I’m a bad-ass drill sergeant.”

He held the gun at his side, not sure what he should do with it, but damn sure he didn’t want to shoot himself in the foot. “Bring it on.”

Chapter 16

BY THE THIRD full clip, Micah felt like he knew what he was doing. He hadn’t hit the bull’s-eye, but the shot pattern kept pretty tight to the center. Jacquelyn, on the other hand, obliterated the solid black center of the paper target, every shot dead-on. This was not a girl you wanted to mess with. And how sexy was that?

“You’re a pretty good shot, you know.” She sighted the Glock on the target thirty yards ahead. “Finn had horrible aim when I met him. Took me six months to whip him into shape.”

Knowing Mr. Perfect had a flaw brightened Micah’s mood considerably. “I take it Bearers don’t go through the same rigorous training you do?”

Jacquelyn’s answer stung with bitterness. “Nah. It’s the Waerd’s responsibility to make sure her Bearer is up to snuff in the field. The Sentry keeps their distance from Bearers. I told you, you’re a precious commodity. They don’t want to scare you off.”

The more Jacquelyn talked about this mysterious Sentry, the more wary of them Micah became. Any organization who stole babies from their cribs couldn’t be trusted, and the fact that they gave Bearers a wide berth and tons of respect threw up another red flag. Keep the killers on a tight leash and let the empaths roam free. Why?

“Finn’s lived here a while, hasn’t he?”

“His whole life. Trish, too. She’s priming him.”

Micah sighted the gun, held his breath, and gently squeezed the trigger the way Jacquelyn had shown him. He didn’t flinch this time and checked through binoculars at the accuracy of his shot. Closer to the bull’s-eye, giving a boost to his ego. “Priming him for what?”

“To take over. Waerd’s aren’t in charge of shit. We just do what we’re told. It’s up to a Bearer to govern a territory. They’ve got all the power, make all the decisions. Trish is getting too old to chase after us. She wants Finn to take her place.”

Again, this Sentry wasn’t scoring any points. They treated Waerds like stray dogs and that pissed him off. “How does Finn feel about that?”

“He’s on a total power trip. Can’t wait, though he’d never step on Trish’s toes. She might be old, but no one fucks with Trish.”

Micah practiced ejecting the clip like she’d shown him. Three shots remained, and he slid the clip home, aimed, took another deep breath into his lungs and held it. Squeezing the trigger came natural, a fluid movement and after the loud report of the shot, he checked his accuracy. He’d grazed the black circle. “Hell, yeah!”

“Not bad,” Jacquelyn agreed before leveling her own weapon on a fresh target. “Bet you can’t beat this, though.” In succession, the shots rang out and Micah watched through the binoculars, as a neat pattern of dotted holes bordered the little black circle. He pulled the squishy foam earplugs from his ears. “I doubt I could beat it now, but give me a week or two. I’ll give you a run for your money.”

“You’re a quick study,” Jacquelyn said. “That’s good. Gives me less to worry about out in the field.”

“You’re still concerned, aren’t you? That I’ll hold you back out there. Keep you from effectively doing your job.”

Jacquelyn sighted the Beretta and emptied the clip, fifteen angry shots that rang out like thunder raining down from Olympus. Her hand dropped as if the hunk of metal suddenly weighed too much for her to manage and she turned, her green eyes serious.

“Micah, what are you doing here? You’re a nice guy and you can’t tell me hanging around town following behind while I blow the heads off a half-dozen scary beasties is appealing. You should leave before this place gets its claws in you.”

“Too late.” Micah aimed and squeezed off the last two shots in the clip. He checked through the binoculars, smiling. Both bull’s-eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”