Chapter 16
Luc and Sean landed at Samantha’s desk in Reception, beside an exhausted and slumping Jodie. The widow was already gone, whisked away by Sherman’s Correction Guards for reprocessing. Furies were forbidden to mix with incoming souls. Placed in high-level seclusion, Amanda Kroger would not begin forward movement until she’d come to terms with the pain and anger she’d carried throughout her past. Only after her bitterness had been completely cleaned away would she know a new life in a new time.
Not that Luc could blame her. The glimpse he’d had into her hellish life had provided enough insight
for the hardest heart to empathize with her drive for murder and why she might fear beginning a human existence all over again. Still, his job had nothing to do with understanding a bounty’s motivation. He roped ‘em in and brought ‘em back. Empathy never entered the equation.
Meanwhile,
Samantha squeezed Jodie with the power of a boa constrictor suffocating a piglet. “Oh, we were all so worried about you!”
Obscured i
nside the volume of her padded-shoulder suit, the plum-colored one Luc often mentioned made Samantha look like a linebacker for the Minnesota Vikings, a pained wince crossed Jodie’s face.
Before he could say anything, Sean stepped forward.
“Okay, Samantha.” Placing his hands on Jodie’s shoulders, he gently pulled her out of Samantha’s solid embrace. “I think our Jodie’s had enough for now.”
Our
Jodie? Annoyance marched in double-time down Luc’s back. Since when was she
our
Jodie? His irritation only increased when Jodie’s wince turned to a moon-eyed stare at the good-looking NYPD detective.
“Hi,”
Flashing a toothpaste-ad smile, Sean thrust out a hand. “We haven’t been properly introduced. I’m Sean Martino. A friend of Luc’s.”
“Hmmph!”
Samantha sniffed and jerked a finger in Luc’s direction. “That one hasn’t got any friends.”
Luc walked a fine line between
Samantha’s disdain and the affection blooming around Sean and Jodie. One step in the wrong direction and he’d blow like fireworks on the Fourth of July. After a moment, he opted for the less lethal enemy territory. “I’ve got no
female
friends,” he said, leaning toward Samantha and waggling his brows. “When it comes to women and me, there are only ex-lovers. And challenges yet to conquer.”
Stealing a glance at
Jodie, Luc caught her yawn.
Once again, Sean came to her rescue before
he could react. “While you and Samantha debate your shortcomings, Luc—or lack thereof—I think I’ll take our brave little bounty hunter home.” He slipped an arm around Jodie’s waist. “Come on, sweetheart. You’ve had quite enough for one day.”
An immediate retort sprang to
Luc’s lips, but he bit his tongue. Instead, he folded his arms over his chest, shot his weight to one hip, and waited for Jodie to explode at Sean’s attempt at intimacy.
She inhaled deeply.
This ought to be good. Go ahead, babe. Give him hell.
As the breath left her lungs, she sagged deeper into Sean’s embrace and
even laid her head on his shoulder. “Thanks.” A smile lit her golden aura to twenty-four karat pure.
What the--?
If Luc had hinted she might be
winded
by her experience with the Fury, Jodie would have lashed him to ribbons with a screech fest. But dammit, Martino got a grateful smile and a snuggle. Luc’s hands clenched into tight fists. Oh, he really, really wanted to beat the snot out of Sean.
But…why? It wasn’t like he had any claim on Jodie, or wanted one for that matter. In fact, if Jodie and Sean had some kind of attraction brewing, maybe the Board would assign them to work together. Then he could return to his sane, organized,
solo
existence.
Jodie sighed, a hiss of ultimate satisfaction. “God, how can I be so tired, but so excited at the same time?”
Sean kissed the top of her head with a loud
thwucky
sound. “Adrenaline, honey. You kicked ass.” His gaze, filled with gushing adoration, locked on Luc. “Didn’t she?”
Oh, yeah. He definitely wanted to punch that goofy look off his friend’s face.
Hard to flutter your lashes like a four-year-old girl with two black eyes.
Rather than heap praise on Jodie
or give in to the needs of his fists, he nodded in Samantha’s direction. “I’m outta here. Give my regards to Sherman.”
Before anyone could stop him
, he transformed to a lightning-filled cloud and zoomed out of the Reception Area, aimed toward the Halfway House. He landed on the floor in the hall that housed their rooms. Seconds later, Jodie fell beside him, sinking to the stained carpet with a thump.
“Where’s your new friend?” Luc couldn’t stifle the derision that rose in his tone.
“Who knows, who cares?” she murmured, her cheek pressed to the filthy rug like a crushed cigarette butt. “I’m too tired to entertain right now. And I really don’t want to fight with you either, Luc. All I want is sleep. Lots and lots of sleep…”
“So then get up and go to your room.”
He reached to help her to her feet, but she turned away from him. “Leave me here. I just need to lie down for a bit.”
“Forget it,” he grumbled
, kneeling near her fallen form. “Get up. You can do this, Jodie. One more surge and you’ll be in bed.”
“I don’t have one more surge in me
,” she gasped. “I’ll just nap here until I’ve regained some strength, and then I’ll go to bed.” She lifted a hand, offered a half-hearted wave. “Go on without me. I’ll be fine right here.”
“Yeah, sure,” he retorted. “Maybe you should consider giving up bounty hunting in favor of a permanent position as a speed bump.”
Sean should see her now. He might want to recant his glowing praise about
our
brave little bounty hunter.
She groaned. “I didn’t know sparks of energy could feel pain. God, I ache
everywhere
.”
“I’m not surprised.
That Fury gave you a helluva fight.”
With a trembling hand, she rubbed her hip.
“You don’t know the half of it.”
Yeah, he did. And damned if she hadn’t scared ten years off his life
—or his Afterlife. The vision of her slumped on the ground, beaten and spilled, would haunt him for eons. And yet, despite her injuries, she’d proven him wrong once again. She might be soft and totally naïve, but something about that side of her seemed to resonate with the spirits they sought. Using her gooey, gushy side, she managed to gain cooperation without ever raising her voice or threatening repercussions. Beneath the growing shadow of his admiration, any impatience with her fled.
“You did good
today, Devlin.” He kept his gaze trained on the pale color surrounding her fallen form.
“
Coming from you, Luc, that’s pretty high praise.” Her tone remained flat, but her aura suddenly glistened. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t stand up and cheer. Right now I just want to fall into a void of oblivion.”
Poor kid. She’d really taken a beating. But she was right about one thing. The sooner she got some sleep
—real sleep—the sooner she’d heal. And not on some filthy carpet.
“Come on,” he coaxed
, reaching for her again. “I’ll get you there. Meld with me.”
One eye peered
up at him from beneath a brow arched in suspicion. “Meld with you?”
“
It’s a process, babe. You just lie there and let me take over.”
“Hmmm…” she replied
on a frown. “Sounds like a married couple I once knew.”
“Shut up and save your strength.”
Cripes, between the racquetball game and the scene with the Fury, he had very little stored energy himself. Melding with Jodie now would completely deplete him. But he couldn’t exactly leave her on the floor. So he called up any stray pairs of electrons bouncing from his feet to his head. He amassed a small pulse, barely enough to spin a child’s top, but it would have to do.
Touching this pitiful ball to her fingertips, he
linked his magnetic field to hers, expecting a weak but effective flux to flow between them. Instead, the surge hit Luc like a tidal wave.
Jodie
. Her name echoed in his soul, guiding him, pulling him into her astral vortex. He became need, hard and throbbing. As if surrendering to her fate, she arched her back into a fluid waterfall, naked, yearning, slick with need. Her hands, hot and seeking, found his length and pulled him inside. He wanted to devour her, but forced himself to savor every electrifying cell. His tongue lapped, delighting in the tingles she evoked on his tastebuds. While his teeth nipped the juncture where her neck met her shoulder, her hands clutched his head, fingers threading through his hair in reckless abandon.
Currents of energy propelled them higher
, past the universe and beyond, in a titanic waterspout. Caught in this ocean of longing, he rolled over her, felt her give beneath him. And still he took. Again and again he rode her wave, cresting and curling with the rhythm of the tides. A roar welled up inside him, a mating call older than time. She urged him on, harder and faster, her cries feeding him, driving him to the pinnacle. At last, with one final thrust, his essence ebbed into her tide.
~~~~
One minute Jodie lay on the floor, too drained to lift her head. The next she soared through the stratosphere, shedding clothes in a haphazard frenzy. She was the moon, bathed in Luc’s pale blue aura, using gravity to keep him suspended in her orbit.
Driven by
need pulsing deep in her core, she pulled every one of his cells inside her. Still, she craved more of him. His tongue licked her into madness, and she writhed, riding him into the cobalt blanket of sky.
“
Deeper,” she urged, her voice razor-sharp, as completely unfamiliar to her as the command she uttered. “Deeper.”
She
soared into the cool breath of oblivion, intent upon nothing but the insatiable desire surging through every energized molecule. Passion sparked, sputtered, and then sparked again. Finally, she teetered at the edge. Luc thrust upward, the walls inside her broke, releasing the flood. With one last sigh, she exploded into a million glittering droplets.
R
ipped from Luc, she fell headlong, landing in a pool of sweat. Drained, she allowed the languor to carry her into a soft, soothing bath of light. When at last she opened her eyes, she found herself naked, sprawled on her bed inside the Halfway House, an equally nude Luc flung protectively over her shuddering body.
“Wh-what…” she managed in ragged
inhalations. “What…the hell…was that?”
“I think,” he whispered through his own panting breaths, “we just experienced an Afterlife quickie.”
Chapter 17
Shock ignited booster rockets in Jodie’s butt, and she shot up from the bed, tossing off Luc with one supersonic thrust. “Are you saying we just had…” She swallowed hard, but the lump in her throat, big as a baseball, didn’t budge. “…sex?” She barely managed to get the word out louder than a hiss before her knees buckled.
“
Well, yeah.” He punched the pillow, apparently in no rush to leave her bed, and laid his shaggy head against it. “At least, I’m guessing that’s what we experienced. Terrific, wasn’t it?”
She sank to
the edge of the mattress beside him. The half-assed grin he flashed raised hackles on her nape. With a trembling hand, she soothed the fine hairs dancing there. “You said we couldn’t have sex. That people in the Afterlife were only energy.”
“I said I didn’t
think
we could have sex,” he corrected. “So I was wrong. Apparently, we
can
have sex.
Terrific
sex. God knows, I feel like I always do after terrific sex.” His voice grew low, a seductive growl that slinked into her core and set her nerves jumping. “Come on, admit it. You shuddered around me as if your entire world had exploded. That had to be a major-league orgasm for you.”
As if she’d admit something so personal to him.
“Oh, right!” She slapped her hands on her thighs. “Because any woman who has sex with you is guaranteed a major-league orgasm.”
Cheek buried in the rock-hard pillow, he turned one dark eye toward her
. “No. Because you look exactly how I pictured you in the prime of life. Tousled, sated, and sexy as hell.”
His
smile wreaked havoc on her snapping synapses. “You
wish
.”
“
You can’t argue with my eyes, babe. I see what I see.” He jerked his head at her. “Go ahead. Play the wronged virgin seduced by the big bad wolf all you want. But you and I both know you were an eager participant. You could have stopped me at any time. You weren’t exactly incapacitated.”
“I never said I was incapacitated,” she retorted, her face hot. “But I honestly didn’t know what was happening to me.”
“Neither did I. So we both just went with the flow. Which is indicative of two people having terrific sex.”
“Will you please stop saying that?”
“Why? It’s true, isn’t it?”
She clamped her lips shut
.
Luc yawned, his mouth a
cavernous O. “Look, I’m too damned tired to debate with you right now. Why don’t you and I lie down and get some sleep? If it’s a fight you want, you can choose pistols or swords later, when I’m more alert.”
Did he honestly believe she’d lie down beside him now? After what had just happened between them?
Considering the hunger growing inside her for more? “Forget it, pal. You are
not
sleeping here.”
Confusion whirled around her like a twister. She needed time alone with her thoughts. Time to regain her equilibrium. The sooner, the better.
She poked his shoulder with an angry thrust. “Get up. Get dressed. And get out.”
On a deep
sigh, he rolled over, one arm draped across his forehead. “Dammit, Jodie, I’m wiped. I couldn’t revisit that experience again right now if the Board commanded it. Now, come on. Lie down. Or at the least, be quiet so I can get some sleep.”
With the flat of his hand, h
e patted the empty space beside him. As if drawn by the action, Jodie’s gaze traveled over the glory of his human form. Heat bloomed in her cheeks. To cover her embarrassment, she jerked her head to his six-pack abs and the generous gift a few inches lower he’d recently shared with her. “How much of that is really you and how much is…umm…” While her mind struggled for a better description, her mouth went with “…digital manipulation?”
Amusement burst from his lips in
raucous laughter. “It’s all me, babe. I’ll prove it to you later, if you like.”
“Yeah? How?
” Her tone dripped acid strong enough to melt the sheets. “You going to show me your
Playgirl
layout?”
“
Sorry. I left my portfolio back on Earth.” With a smirk, he hefted his hips higher.
Jodie was about to let out a cry of disgust
at his piggish behavior when he yanked the quilt from beneath his torso, bunched it into a ball, and threw it to the floor. Then, he sank between the sheets and covered his magnificently hewn flesh from neck to toes.
“If you still don’t trust me,” he added as he rolled over and presented his back to her. “You can sleep on top of the blankets. Or conjure up a chastity belt.”
She arched a brow. “I’d rather you conjured up pajamas.”
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he managed on a wide yawn. “Even in life, I always slept in the buff.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
The only answer she received was a sonorous snore.
Like a plug yanked from a socket, Luc’s last bit of electric pulses had disintegrated, and he’d fallen asleep. In the middle of her bed.
Great. Now what?
She didn’t want to sleep with him in the same room, much less only a few inches away. She sighed. Sure, the sex—or whatever they’d shared—contributed to her restlessness. But another emotion took center stage in her heart right now. Guilt.
How could she have
willingly engaged in a physical relationship of any kind with Luc, a guy she didn’t even like, when she still loved Gabe? Even if Luc hadn’t assured her sex in the Afterlife was impossible, even if she wasn’t one hundred percent at fault for the whole sorry episode, she had to take some responsibility for what had happened between them.
Meld with me.
What an idiot she’d been to fall for that line! He might as well have invited her to his place to see his etchings.
Which brought her back to Gabe.
God, she’d give anything to see him once more, to explain how and why she’d screwed up, to beg his forgiveness—for not trusting him that night at the restaurant and then for betraying him with Luc here in the Afterlife.
A spark flared inside her
head. Wait a second. Why couldn’t she see Gabe? She might not be able to speak to him, but she could see him. Be sure he was all right. That she hadn’t mucked up his life when she’d ended her own. Thanks to all her bounty hunting, she knew how to get to Earth. She knew exactly where Gabe lived. Although, she didn’t have the specific coordinates the Board used for locales.
Still…
There had to be a way…
Rising
in hesitant inches so as not to disturb the slumbering Luc, she left the sleeping area, headed toward the counter. The clipboard sat, stone silent and empty, a mute chastisement that she was on her own with this decision.
Well, honestly, what did she expect?
Some Higher Power would abet her in slipping away from her duties? Of course not. If she wanted this, she’d have to break the rules. With no help from anyone. In fact, she had to be certain no one would know she’d escaped this crummy room with its lack of inspiration.
What had Luc told her? The Board instituted the sterile décor so the residents would forget their lives on Earth
, to keep them from becoming distracted.
More likely
, to prevent exactly what she was about to do.
No
t that she planned to remain on Earth the way those bounties did. She had no intention of becoming one of the sought-after, the lost souls she and Luc chased. No. This would be her own version of a quickie. Without sex. A fast zip to Earth and back. She could do this. She needed to do this. Jodie would never rest until she made some kind of peace with Gabe, even if it were only symbolic. Or on a higher plane.
Fingers crossed for luck, she focused every thought on reaching her former lover’s apartment. An icy breeze wrapped her,
prickling her skin, and deep in her head, a stern voice admonished her to halt her journey along this treacherous path.
Ha. Like she’d ever listened to the voice of reason before. And this time, like all the others, she pressed on, heedless. A
trap door appeared at her feet, a sliver of light eking through a miniscule opening between jamb and frame. Despite the warning growing louder in her conscience, Jodie began the transport process. Revolution after revolution, she spun faster and faster, a centrifuge separating matter into bits of cosmic dust.
Finer than sand in an hourglass, she poured through the crack in the
exit, and out into the heavens beyond. Meteor-like, she hurtled toward her goal in a headlong trajectory. A ticking clock, loud as the mechanism inside Big Ben, echoed each beat of her heart, counting down earthly time. Sparks flew from her astral form as she continued the plunge with more precision than an Olympic diver.
Recalling every cream-colored wall and scarred floorboard, she pictured herself floating in Gabe’s living room. And suddenly, all motion screeched to a halt.
Familiarity embraced her, welcomed her home. Her gaze traveled to the blue and yellow swirls dancing across the Van Gogh’s Starry Night reprint perched above the pre-fabricated fireplace. She spotted the tatty tartan plaid cushions of the couch and wingback chair, the hobnails glinting from the framework of the matching hassock. The distinctive odor of stale grease wafted up from the Spanish restaurant downstairs, mixed with the sting of paint thinner from Gabe’s guest-bedroom-cum-studio in the back of the rented space. She’d made it! A thrill shivered through her. She opened her mouth to call Gabe’s name, and then snapped her jaws shut. He wouldn’t hear her even if she did call out.
So where was he? Vibration
s hummed around her, a paranormal divining rod, confirming human activity in the vicinity. Her ears pricked while she struggled to discern his whereabouts. But no matter how she strained, the hum remained dull, indefinite. As if she wore earmuffs.
Propelling across the floor, she checked the front rooms: empty living room, equally barren kitchen. She did, however, note new dishtowels dangling from the oven handle.
Wedgwood blue with splashy yellow and white daisies, the pattern was something totally foreign to Gabe’s low-key personality. Where and when did he buy these?
She shrugged. Her time for contact with Gabe was short and here she stood alone,
wondering about the new kitchen linens. Who cared where he got the dishtowels?
Let’s remember why we risked everything to make this trip.
With only the rear bedrooms left to search
, she sped toward his bedroom at the end of the hall. Although the familiar low-slung platform bed with its lacquered headboard still occupied the room, the décor had changed in its entirety. The white walls she recalled were now mint green, striped with a border wallpaper of dancing teddy bears. In the corner stood a crib with tiny teddy bears holding pastel balloons suspended from a mobile above the mattress.
Disappointment seeped into her soul.
Gabe had moved! No wonder she hadn’t recognized those silly towels in the kitchen. Some other family had taken up residence in his apartment. But… if he’d moved, why did the Van Gogh reprint still hang over the fireplace? Maybe he had sub-let the place? Was he allowed to do that?
Her stomach pitched.
Only one room left, and Jodie suddenly had no desire to seek out the contents of that last space. Still, curiosity spurred her to the doorway. Her heart thudded in her ears as she crossed the threshold.
Empty
. Except for the portrait-sized canvas seated on an easel near the grimy window. Her heartbeat accelerated. Gabe had always found solace in new projects. So, did he still live here? With a baby in the next room? Which could only mean…