Vengeance Borne (40 page)

He closed his eyes, let his mind search for Trish and only Trish. He felt her, close by, searching for him as well.
Micah. Micah, are you here
?

I’m here
! He projected the thought as a feeling of elation and protection.
I’m going to get you out of there, just hold on
. Though he had no idea if she could hear him, he was certain she felt him. He continued toward the back door, careful to crouch well below the kitchen windows bright and glowing with light.

Straight above him, he felt Trish and he realized only a wall separated them. Standing at the kitchen sink, she peered over the glass, peeling potatoes as she searched the darkening twilight. He poked his head just over the pane, his eyes meeting hers. She could’ve been in worse condition, but anger burst like a solar flare when he took stock of the bruises and black eye, complimentary only to her split lip.

No anger
. He felt her thoughts rather than heard them. But he knew somehow that she needed him to control his emotions. Furies fed on the dark things people felt, and surely they didn’t need any more fuel to add to their already raging fire.
Where’s Jacquelyn?
he mouthed silently at the glass. Careful not to give him away, Trish rolled her eyes high and to the left indicating the staircase.

“Can I get to her?”

A sense of relaxation overcame him and Trish’s orders became perfectly clear. Patience.

“I’m going to need a few more potatoes.” Trish said, loud and in a meek voice that was an oxymoron to her nature. “Could you please go down to the cellar and get more?”

Micah felt a flash of pleasure that made him feel like he needed to shower from the inside, out. Pete’s warm, fuzzy feelings were a distortion of what any normal person would feel, impure with a strange, almost vicious edge.

“I can do that,” Pete said from somewhere behind Trish. “This is a welcome home dinner, and it has to be the best dinner. She’ll feel better when she sees you.”

“I’m sure, dear,” Trish said, and Micah sensed the effort she had to put behind controlling her emotions. “Thank you.”

Crouched below the window, Micah waited a few moments until he heard a timid tap at the glass. Trish pointed to the back door and Micah ran to meet her. “Thank God you’re here.” Trish ushered him in and slowly closed the door. “The Furies are with him, they never leave his side, which is good for us. They’re bound now; his humanity is almost completely gone. Jacquelyn is upstairs. She’ll need you. Be quick and be
quiet
!”

Micah winked in response and brushed his lips in a quick peck to the top of Trish’s head. He’d never been a lucky person, but maybe he’d be lucky enough to get them all out of there in one piece. Trish bustled around the kitchen, banging pots and turning on the faucet while Micah padded across the room to the staircase taking cautious but quick steps to the second-story level.

Stepping away from the banister, Micah slunk along the wall, noting three open doors and one closed. No need to search those rooms, they held no interest for him. Instead, he headed straight for the closed door and laid his palm to the wood. She was just on the other side, he felt her like a flame burning in his soul. With an easy movement, he turned the knob until the latch gave way and pushed the door wide enough to let him to slip inside. He left the door ajar, allowing a tiny sliver of light to permeate the dark.

“Micah?” Jacquelyn whispered. “Did I ever tell you how glad I am you’re a quick study?”

Relief, this time his own, pulsed through every nerve. At least she hadn’t lost any of her smart-ass pluck. He made his way to an old iron-framed bed, careful not to make a sound and lowered himself beside her. “I have a good teacher.” He squinted in the dark as though it would help him to see her better. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m pretty jacked up,” she said. “Good thing I’ve got my own personal insta-healer.”

Micah tried not to laugh, to not feel the relief and elation that wanted to bubble up through his throat. He didn’t want to alert the Furies—so tuned in to emotion—to his presence. “Where does it hurt?”

“I think the real question is, where doesn’t it? My head, for starters. I’ve got a nice goose egg on my forehead and it’s fucking up my bearings. I might have a concussion, and I don’t think I could stand up if I wanted to.”

Micah traced his fingers, light as the flapping of a butterfly’s wings along her hairline until he found the lump. It had to be as big as a tennis ball cut in half if not bigger, and he swallowed the anger that threatened to surface. He closed his eyes, thought only of healing, and a warmth ignited between their touching skin. The lump began to shrink, the gash in the skin tightening beneath his fingertips and soon became nothing more than mild swelling on her forehead. His own head began to throb, but he took her pain gladly. “Good as new,” Micah remarked. “How do you feel?”

“Mmm. Better,” Jacquelyn’s voice sounded thick as if with sleep or pleasure. “Not quite as good as new, but almost. I’m just a little dazed. I think those Fury bitches did something to me, but I don’t know what. I feel, heavy. Like my limbs don’t want to move or something.”

Micah took a deep breath as Trish’s words came back to haunt him again. She was the center of his universe, Waerd, Bearer, or not. What he felt for her was more than some stupid mystical bond. Everyone wanted a piece of her, it seemed. The Sentry, Trish, even Finn in some way. Wes had wanted her to give him a life of excitement, and Pete wanted to possess her completely. But Micah just wanted her. Jacquelyn. Not the hunter, or the action she could provide, or the other guy’s girl. He wanted her for who she was and what she meant to him, not for any other reason. Whether she still had feelings for another man or not.

Without another thought, another word, he lowered his face to hers. Her expression, shadowed by the light creeping into the room was curious, her brow furrowed and her bright eyes searching his. Micah touched his lips to hers, soft and gentle, pulling away for a brief moment before kissing her again, this time lingering as he parted his lips.

He didn’t expect her to respond, but she did, her own mouth relaxing against his, slanting and curious as her tongue traced a line along his bottom lip. A lightning bolt of excitement shot through his center, as he allowed the moment to build, tasting her, touching her, his tongue dancing with hers. The euphoria of the intimate moment swirled around him, warm and cold and tingling. So much more than just a kiss, a transference of energy and spirit. This moment was heaven.

A light snapped on and Micah jerked away. Pete stood in the doorway, his jaw slack and eyes bulging. He dropped to his knees and let out a tortured whine, burying his face in his hands. “Jack-lyn,” he said like a sad child. “What are you doing? Why would you do that with him? You belong to me!” The last words burst from his mouth like a curse, and Pete stood, his soul projecting a rage so intense, it nearly sent Micah to the floor. He took a deep breath, expelling the unwanted emotions and stood.

Pete’s appearance had definitely taken a turn for the worse since Micah had seen him last. The bones of his face seemed too large for his skin which stretched taught over cheekbones that protruded from his face like knobs. His eyes once bright and clear had a dull white sheen, sunken into his eye sockets and overshadowed by sharp brow bones. Even his teeth seemed sharper, more animal-like as his gray lips drew back in a sneer. More creature than man, Trish’s assertion had been correct. Pete belonged to the Furies completely.

“They want you!” He jabbed an accusing finger at Jacquelyn. “And I protected you! Me! And like some cheap slut, you’re kissing him in our house! The home I made for you!” Pete’s breath came in panting gasps and he paced the room, muttering to himself, pulling at the strands of his thinning, stringy hair.

“Yes,” he said as if debating an internal argument. “They want you. And they can have you.”

Chapter 31

JACQUELYN JUMPED FROM the bed, cornered and wary. Pete had devolved even more in the short time since his first visit to the room, and she was certain that the Furies had taken full possession of his body. Kill the host. Sure, easier said than done without a weapon.
Fuck my life
. How was she supposed to get them out of this with no gun and no fucking dagger?

Micah stepped in front of her, stupid, but a nice gesture. He reached back and grabbed her hand. Not exactly the best time for this kind of affection. But before she could pull away, she felt something drop into her hand as it slid down the sleeve of his hoodie. The pommel of her dagger warmed her palm, and she said a silent prayer of thanks for quick studies.

Pete continued to pace, his internal debate far from over. “It might not be her fault. She didn’t bring him here. He came on his own. Maybe he forced her. Yes! He forced her. She didn’t want to. He made her kiss him!”

He spun in a circle, his voice ragged and higher pitched, “
No! She lied to us! We gave her a home and protection, and she’s nothing but a whore. We should kill her, now. And her pet. They both deserve to die. Vengeance is ours to claim, and we’ll take payment in flesh.

“No!” The split-minded conversation raged on. Wow, Pete was giving Gollum a run for his money right about now. “I love her. I can’t live without her!

“
You will. We’ll find you another. Someone worthy of us. We’ll take care of you. We love you
.”

Four enemies had become one, and for a moment, Jacquelyn could only count herself lucky. As long as they possessed his body, she had only one foe to fight. It shifted the advantage back into her court and left her only Pete to deal with. Preternatural strength wasn’t anything to balk at, though. She might be able to immobilize him with a couple of shots to the chest or head, but he was too far gone for a simple bullet to take him out completely.

“Pete,” Jacquelyn said with the sort of caution you use to talk a guy off a ledge. “You don’t want this. Those lovely ladies of yours aren’t angels, they’re devils. You can fight them. Tell them to leave once and for all. You’re not a killer. You don’t want to hurt anyone.”

Pete laughed, a dry, hissing cackle that boiled from his gut. “I killed Finn,” he said. “I ripped him apart with my bare hands.” Another round of laughter followed the first, mad and wild. “Did you know I watched him sneak out of your house? How could you let him treat you like that? Did he fuck you and leave after he got what he wanted? It made you cheap, and you’re not.”

A pang of hurt stabbed at her chest, the image of Finn’s broken and bleeding body still fresh in her memory. Pete thought he killed Finn, but thank God—and Micah—he’d been unsuccessful. Jacquelyn tucked the dagger behind her and took a step in front of Micah, inching her way close to Pete. If she could keep him occupied, she could diffuse the situation with little to no risk. “Pete, I’m sorry.” She tried to sound meek and apologetic. “I didn’t know how you felt about me. If I’d known, maybe I would have done things differently.”

“
She’s lying
,” Pete said, raking his hands through his hair. “
Betrayer. Liar. Dirty creature. Kill her. Kill her now!

“I love her!” Pete screamed at himself. “You told me I could have her!

“
She’s a witch, just like the old woman. She’ll hurt us, send us away.
”

“I would never do that,” Jacquelyn crooned, now almost face to face with Pete. “We can all live here together. Like a family.”

The dagger flashed as she spun it in her fist, rising high and stabbing downward. But Pete’s reflexes had improved as much as his strength and he caught her wrist before the dagger could pierce his skin. A look of hurt, deep torment flashed across his inhuman features and a bestial growl tore through his chest. He twisted her wrist until she thought it might break and she dropped the dagger. Her feet left the floor as Pete snatched her into a rough embrace. His breath, hot and smelling of rotten meat, passed over her face and his jaws snapped together, saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth.

His arms opened like a trap releasing, and she fell to the floor. But before she could react, he grabbed a handful of her hair, yanking her to a half-standing position, the other hand wrapped tight around her throat. Micah reached for his shoulder holster. He had a clear shot, it might stun Pete long enough for her to get away and grab the dagger. She just prayed his aim was true.

“Don’t do it,” Pete warned as he wrapped his free hand around Jacquelyn’s throat. She knew from his previous gentle care of her, it wouldn’t take much for him to kill her. “One step, and I’ll break her neck.”

Micah froze, his body tense and the muscle at his jaw flexing. “You hurt her, I’ll introduce you personally to pain.”

Well
, Jacquelyn thought
, he has the tough guy routine down, at least. Bravado, thy name is Micah
.

Pete’s maniacal laughter sent a trail of shivers across Jacquelyn’s skin. He’d kill her in a heartbeat. The Furies had him, and the real Pete was only hanging on by a thread. “It’s okay, Micah.” Her voice strained as it worked up through her constricted throat. “Just hang on.”

Pete snatched her up to a standing position, pulling her back tight against his chest. “Did you sleep with him, too?” he hissed in her ear. “I bet you roll over and spread your legs for everyone. How could you do that? I would have loved you. I would have protected you. Worshipped you. And now it’s too late.”

“It’s never too late, Pete,” Jacquelyn choked out.

“Yes, it is.” A tortured sob escaped his chest. “It’s too late. They have me now and I have to kill you. It’s too late for both of us.”

In a flash, he backed out of the room, Jacquelyn’s stomach lurching from the speed and force. With one hand still wrapped in her hair, Pete flung her,
hard
, and she bounced off the banister, the bone in her left ankle crunching under the strain. The collision bounced her from the banister into the wall and, like a pinball, she continued her journey, tumbling down the stairs. Jacquelyn pushed against the floor, tried to get up, but the cobwebs in her mind bound her and through the darkening haze of unconsciousness, she heard Micah’s enraged shout, and a scuffle, followed by a loud
pop!
, and then another as he fired her .357.