Vengeance Borne (29 page)

Libby gave her a pointed look that said,
bullshit.

Jacquelyn drummed her fingers on the counter, rising up and down, up and down on her toes. She would have felt a hell of lot better with her Glock under her arm. Damn it. Where was a Bearer when you needed one?

Tension charged the air and Libby busied herself with the gas pumps for a moment, turning her back on Jacquelyn. She closed her eyes, Pete’s warm breath on her neck almost moist as he reached over her to set a bottle of tea on the counter.
Ew
. A ballsy move, that was for sure. Apparently last night’s escapades had made him more confident.

“I was wondering Jack-lyn, if you’re doing anything tonight?”

Thanks, Libby. Turn your back when I need you to run interference
. “I’m going to Trish Whitney’s for dinner,” she said to the back of Libby’s head.
Not that it’s any of your business.

“Maybe we could do something tomorrow? Or Friday?” Pete leaned in a little closer, not enough to touch, but enough to cross the border of Jacquelyn’s personal bubble of space, and she stiffened. The predator in her didn’t like to be crowded. And when a predator is cornered, there’s no telling how she might retaliate. She drew her arm forward just a little, waiting for the right moment. One more inch and she’d sink her elbow right into the soft part of his gut. And if that wasn’t enough to make him back off—

“Hey Pete,” Libby said, as she turned around. “Sorry. I didn’t know you were ready to go.” She pointed at the bottled ice tea. “Is that everything for you?”

“Yep.” Pete paid for his drink and took it from Libby’s waiting hand. “Maybe I’ll stop by Grind later, and we can talk about dinner Jack-lyn.” He gave her a bright, cheerful smile and left.

“What in the hell was that all about?” Libby craned her neck to watch Pete leave. “He was sniffin’ you like a dog on a carcass.”

“Nice, Libs.” Jacquelyn released a deep breath. “I’m a carcass, huh?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Pete’s harmless,” Jacquelyn said, though she doubted the truth in her own statement. “I think he’s wanted to ask me out for a while. He keeps hinting at it, anyway. I guess he figures if Finn and I broke up that I’m ready to jump back in the dating pool.” So maybe that wasn’t exactly all there was to it. But did Libby really need to know that he’d offered to take her home last night only so he could hit on her? And what would Libby say if she knew that Jacquelyn suspected Pete was anything
but
harmless? Possible date-rape material, even. Evan would be following her home for a month and Libby would be camped out on her couch.

“Yeah, I’m sure Finn would be
totally
okay with you dating Pete,” Libby said with a healthy dose of sarcasm. “Pete must be on crack if he thinks Finn wouldn’t break him like a twig.”

It’s a damned good thing a Waerd can take care of herself
. “Well, I don’t think I have much to worry about. One look from Finn and Pete will be whining like a puppy.”

“No shit, right?” Libby laughed. “I wouldn’t fuck with Finn, either. Anybody that tries to come between that guy and what he wants might come out of it short a couple of limbs. Finn doesn’t share.”

No, he doesn’t
. Jacquelyn’s mouth went dry and her stomach dropped to her feet. Could it be that simple? Had Finn’s desire to get back together be enough to call upon Furies?

“Jax,” Libby said, snapping her fingers. “You okay? You’ve got that glazed-over look again.”

“Yeah.” She tried to shake the skin crawling feeling Pete’s presence stirred, but it stuck to her like honey. “It’s just—have you ever done something you wished like hell you could take back?”

The door chimed again and Libby flashed her best customer service smile at the woman walking in. “Oh, yeah,” she said quietly. “But since you didn’t hook up with Finn last night, I’m going to assume that you regret turning him down.”

Jacquelyn stepped away from the counter to let the woman pay for her gas. Her cell vibrated in her back pocket and she pulled it out to check the caller ID:
TRISH HOME
. She pointed to the door and Libby smiled and nodded in acknowledgement. Saved by the bell. Definitely not a convo she wanted to have with Libby right now. “Hello?” Jacquelyn answered as she walked outside.

“Where are you, dear?” Trish asked in her we’ve-got-work-to-do voice.

“Gas ‘n Go,” she answered. “Evan’s working on my car.”

“How long before you can get down here?”

Uh-oh. Trish was foregoing her usual smart-ass pleasantries. Must be serious. “I’ll have to check with Evan, could be a few more hours.”

“Well, hurry him the hell up,” Trish said. “I need you.”

Finn was unaccounted for. Please, oh please let this crisis be unrelated. “What’s going on, Trish? You don’t sound so hot.”

An aggravated sigh made its way through the receiver to Jacquelyn’s ear. “Micah. Someone’s got to screw that boy’s head back on straight, and I’ll be damned if I can do it.”

Jacquelyn started to answer, but the line had already gone dead. She shoved the phone in her back pocket and looked to the sky. “How ‘bout cutting me a break sometime in the near future, huh?” But no one was going to answer that little prayer. No one up there gave a shit about her problems, only that she took care of theirs.

And now, she had one more thing to deal with.
What’s up with you, Micah,
Jacquelyn wondered as she headed toward the garage half of the gas station. “Hey, Evan?” she shouted in through the garage door. “Any idea when my car’s going to be done? I’ve gotta get down to Trish Whitney’s.” Searching for a good enough excuse to get Evan into high gear, she added, “She needs help with a few errands this afternoon.”

“Hang, on!” Evan called back from somewhere beneath her car. “It’s not as bad as I thought. I’ll be done in a few. What sort of errands does she need help with, anyway?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Jacquelyn said, too quiet for Evan to hear. “But whatever the crisis, I hope I can avert it.”

Chapter 23

MICAH’S HEAD SWAM in a sea of thick, black sludge. He missed this—the bliss of nothing. He wasn’t even sure where he was, though at the moment, he didn’t really care. Somewhere through the haze he remembered pulling out of Jacquelyn’s driveway, heading the opposite direction from Trish’s.

His lids lay heavy against his eyes, unwilling to part and let in the light of day. Four—
couldn’t have been more than four, could it?
—Ativan and a couple of Trazadone had been more than enough to knock him out. No dreams. No feelings. No disappointment. The dark consumed him for a moment, rocking him peacefully before his mind fought for awareness. Most importantly, Jacquelyn wasn’t here. Not in the void. He didn’t need her here, not like he’d grown to want her out there.

“…only a Bearer can see that flame. You saw it in her when you met her, didn’t you?”

Trish hadn’t lied. A fire brighter and hotter than anything he’d ever felt burned within Jacquelyn and, just like Finn, he was drawn to it like a moth. Last night, he’d come too close to the flame and he’d been burned.

The dark called to him, pulled him away from his emotions, muddling his thoughts. He tried to shake his head but found that it weighed far too much for him to move. Was this what overdose felt like? Maybe he
had
taken more than four pills. A glowing point of light like the first star of twilight shone from some distant spot in his mind, and his thoughts wandered again to her.

Had they been together, naked and in each other’s arms? Had Finn touched all of the parts of her body that Micah wished he could touch, had his mouth tasted her skin? She said things between her and Finn were over. But last night—seeing his truck parked in her driveway—banished every hopeful thought he’d ever had.
It’s not like you ever told her how you felt
, a voice argued through the fog of his mind.
You haven’t even known her for more than a week, did you think she’d fall for you so quickly
? Again Micah fought for lucidity, finding the drugs in his system too strong to release their hold.
Love at first sight, is that it? You idiot, there’s no such thing
.

“…special. Chosen by Fate. She’ll draw you to her like a magnet, and Bearers are helpless to fight it.”

Maybe if he could just wiggle a finger. He focused, thinking only of using his brain to tell his arm to tell his hand to move just one finger. But he was so tired. Oblivion called to him, the void so welcoming and he fell, hard, into nothingness.

“Okay, what in the hell is going on?” Jacquelyn asked as she walked through the back door into the kitchen. Trish stood over a pot, stirring something that made her stomach growl.

“Sit down, dear.” Trish didn’t bother to look up from her stove. “One of those roosters decided to get ornery this morning. So I made chicken noodle soup.”

The image of the rooster’s untimely death stole a little of Jacquelyn’s enthusiasm for lunch, but as Trish scooped up a bowl of soup and put it in front of her, she set her sympathy aside. “You want to tell me what’s up? Where’s Micah?”

“I’m not sure,” Trish said. “But I’ll tell you what; I’m damned tired of people driving off in my truck without permission.” She served a bowl for herself and sat down next to Jacquelyn. “I think so much better with a full stomach. Don’t you?”

Good Lord. Trish and her ranch logic
. Jacquelyn spooned the hot soup into her mouth to keep the snide words from slipping out. Did Trish always have to be so goddamned calm about everything? “Trish,” she said, her attitude quelled by soup. “Don’t you think you ought to tell me exactly what’s up with Micah?”

“That boy, he’s got a long, hard road ahead of him. He should’ve listened to his mother, you know. But children never listen, even when they do know better. He’d be coping a helluva lot better if he had. He’s going to need your help.”

“Well?” Jacquelyn found her patience strained. She didn’t dare get too ornery with Trish, though. Lest she follow in the rooster’s footsteps. “Spill it. Did he leave? Go berserk, freak out? Try to kill himself? Try to kill
you
? What the hell did he
do
?”

Trish set her spoon down and stared into her soup like she could divine the future in the pattern of noodles. “The fool-headed bastard took off with my truck around three this morning. Never came back. I expect he’s back in town.”

“And you’re worried about this… why?”

Trish leveled her cold gray gaze and Jacquelyn shivered. Unfathomable wisdom and power lived in those eyes. “I’m worried because of what I
felt
. He’s in trouble, and I’ll bet he’s lying in that motor home drugged out of his mind.”

Jacquelyn’s teeth tugged at her bottom lip. She thought Micah was done with popping pills. “What did you feel, Trish?”

“Worry and terror. A strange combination. Panic, too. He was deeply concerned when he left here. So concerned he didn’t think twice about sneaking out and stealing my truck. I don’t know where he went or why. And he didn’t come back.”

“Do you think he felt the Furies?”

“No.” Trish’s tone was sure. “This was something personal.”

Jacquelyn sighed. She shoveled a few more spoonfuls of soup into her mouth. Trish was right. She did operate better on a full stomach. “I’ll find him,” she said. “What do you want me to do with him once I hunt him down?”

“For starters, I want you to try and remember yourself and what you are.”

Not this old song again. Jacquelyn had never bought into the whole Waerds are magical special snowflakes mumbo-jumbo. And she wasn’t about to now.

“Yes, I know,” Trish accused. “You’re just
so
level-headed, aren’t you? There’s nothing remotely special about you. You’re nothing but a common killer.”

“Trish—”

“Don’t you
Trish
me,” she snapped. “I have knowledge of things you couldn’t possibly comprehend, girl. And whether you care to believe it or not, you
are
something special. Divine. Those who are drawn to you are bound and, as sure as Finn follows you around like a love-sick puppy, Micah will be compelled to be near you. Already he finds himself needing you. Don’t take that lightly. Your power is there. It’s always been there, and Micah is feeling helpless right now. A planet drawn to orbit and you are the center of the universe.”

It made Jacquelyn uncomfortable to think of herself as the center of anything. Not that she believed any of it. She’d been born into the wrong family. A victim of chance. Trish’s stories of magic, power, and Fate were nothing more than a springboard to perpetuate a myth. Leverage to convince her to walk the line and remain the local demon killer. Any mystical forces in Jacquelyn’s possession were borrowed baubles. Bearers included. She was nothing more than a tough girl with a bad attitude. And there wasn’t anything Trish could say to make her think otherwise.

“Perhaps.” Trish threw her a critical glare. “But you’ve always had to learn the hard way, haven’t you? You’ll see.”

“Do you realize how annoying it is when you do that?” Jacquelyn asked.