Hunter's Salvation (7 page)

Taking matters into her own hands, Jess focused on one of the decorative stones that Randi had used as a border for her flowerbeds. It was about the size of a chicken's egg. If Jess used enough force, her power could make it go in one side of the dude's head and out the other.

She settled for just clocking him on the temple and knocking him out cold. As he collapsed to the ground, his grip on her arm loosened, and Jess backed away. This time, she'd find a hiding spot out of the open.

 

“S
ON
of a bitch.”

Thirty minutes later, Jess sat on the roadside, staring into nothingness.

Masters had already left.

None of Jess's contacts had been able to unearth where the man lived. The address listed with the Bureau of Motor Vehicles was legit, but it was a family that lived there, not Masters.

Jess's only way of finding him was to wait for him at the club. Tonight she'd had vague plans of following him when he left. Now she'd have to wait until another night.

“Son of a bitch,” she said again.

 

W
HEN
Jess walked into her kitchen the next morning, she wasn't terribly surprised to find that she had an intruder. During her sleepless night, she'd put two and two together and figured out why Tall, Dark, and Delicious was at the club. Once she had figured it out, she had to wonder what had taken so long. She'd known for months that something was off about the place.

The infallible Hunters should have been all over the place ages ago.

Jess knew about the Hunters. Nothing specific, but enough details to know that they
should
have been here. Mom had told her about the Hunters—paranormal cops, basically. Considering that the badness in the club had some sort of unnatural bent to it, it was right up the Hunters' alley. Or should be.

“Don't you have a job to do?”

A thick, straight black brow arched, and he leaned back in his chair, studying her with a probing gaze. “Excuse me?”

She just smiled. So what if it felt a little pissy. “How is your head?”

He lifted a shoulder in a shrug and said, “Considering that somehow you levitated a rock and plowed it into my skull, I guess it feels okay.” There was just a shadow of a bruise on his temple, already nearly gone.

Witches really did heal fast, she mused. Then she shook her head and focused on the problems his presence could bring about. She wasn't giving up on Masters just because some Hunter appeared on the scene. Some big, sexy Hunter who had the most amazing eyes…

A little focus here, Jess?
Tearing her gaze from the sexy Hunter with the sexy eyes, she turned away. She answered him in a cool, dismissive tone. “I didn't levitate it. It looks like you made yourself at home.” There was a half-empty pot of coffee sitting on the warmer. He had poured himself a cup, and he was using her favorite mug, too. She could grab it. She liked using her mug when she drank her coffee at her table. But that wasn't an option. She'd have to wash it five or six times, and she would still find herself wondering whether it was him she was tasting on the cup, or the coffee.

Instead Jess took another mug from the cabinet and poured herself some coffee. “How nice of you to make yourself so comfortable,” she said as she turned around to look at him.

He was either ignoring her sarcasm or didn't notice it. She was betting on the former. He took a sip from his mug and said, “If you didn't levitate it, how did it fly up off the ground and hit me?”

“It's called telekinesis. Surely the Hunters have seen telekinetics before.” She arched her brows and smiled sweetly at him as his eyes narrowed. Her skin prickled and she suddenly had an idea how a gazelle must feel right before a lion took it down. Her heart kicked up its speed, slamming into her ribs so hard that it stole her breath. Her hands grew sweaty, and every instinct in her body was screaming at her to run away.

She didn't run, though. Instead she lowered her head and blew on the coffee. Faking bravado wasn't as good as actually being fearless, but it was a damn sight better than letting him know how unnerved she was.

“What?” His voice was soft and quiet. It shouldn't have sounded at all terrifying, but for some reason, she
was
terrified.

But Jess would be damned if she let it show. She might not be able to keep her heart from beating a mile a minute, and she couldn't keep herself from breaking into a cold sweat, but she could control her facial expressions and she could keep from backing away. She wanted to. Really badly. She wanted to back away—hell, screw that. She wanted to turn tail, run, and hide.

She didn't, though. She kept her face blank and her voice level as she replied, “You heard me. You all have been around for centuries, if I've been told right. Telekinetics are pretty rare, but not that rare. There's no way I am the first you've run into.”

“That wasn't what I was referring to,” he said. His tone was still as silky and as soft as before, but now there was an undercurrent of menace.

It struck Jess as maybe just a little ridiculous, and her fear retreated to normal levels. “Oops. Is your existence some top-security secret that I shouldn't know about?” She rolled her eyes and said dryly, “You may be able to live right under the nose of average mortals, but you can't expect the gifted ones to not know about you.”

No. Vax didn't expect the gifted people to remain blissfully unaware of the creatures, those of the Hunter variety or otherwise, that shared their world. Gifted people sensed others, so why wouldn't they be aware of the Hunters?

Vax knew some of the gifted population didn't trust the Hunters. Most of that came from not understanding their purpose. The Hunters had been around for ages, going back so many generations their true origins were shrouded. They'd come together with one goal and that was to make sure that other gifted creatures—witch, vamp, shifter, or were—didn't try to turn mankind into their playthings.

He just hadn't expected
her
to know about them. He hadn't expected her to be anything other than the average mortal. Well, maybe not completely average. The telekinesis was a bit of a surprise—she'd flown right under his radar with that one. She was too damned nosy and too damned stubborn, and she had a mouth he really wanted to feel under his. But she was mortal all the same.

Thanks to the rock she'd pelted him with, though, Vax knew firsthand just how
not
average she was. A telekinetic. He hadn't met more than one or two people in his entire life who used pure telekinesis. Like psychic ability, it had nothing to do with magick and everything to do with a hyperrefined mental sense. All in the brain, as opposed to magick, which was in the heart and soul.

Magick used the elements of air, fire, and water.

Telekinesis used the power of the mind.

That could explain why Vax hadn't read her until it was almost too late to help. His strengths lay in reading the emotions, and like most psychically gifted people, she had probably learned to master her emotions when she learned to master her gift. They had to—emotions wreaked havoc on the control of somebody with psychic gifts. Poor control wasn't an option for somebody who could hurl objects through the air without even touching them. But he had met telekinetics before, and not one of them had been like her. She was like a blank slate.

He was silent for a moment as he tried to figure out how to handle her. Under normal circumstances, mortals who learned too much about the paranormal races were placed under a compulsion, their memories wiped.

If her shields were anything to go by, wiping her memories would work about as well as laying a compulsion. And he'd already tried that, with absolutely no success.

Vax suspected logic wasn't going to work, either. “If you know about the Hunters, then it probably won't surprise you to realize that there is a world of wrong going down in that club. You don't need to be there.” Suspecting it wouldn't work and refusing to try were two different things.

“Oh, I beg to differ.” Her voice was low and throbbing with passion as she said, “I have
every
reason to be there. I know just how much wrong is happening there. Believe me, Mister…” Her eyes narrowed on his face, and she scowled. “You know, you're sitting in
my
house, using
my
coffeemaker to make very bad coffee, and I don't even know who the hell you are.”

Grinning at her, Vax sipped at the overly strong brew and said, “Where I come from, strong is the only way to make coffee.” He sipped again before adding, “I'd bet you like it weak and watered down. Or do you prefer those iced foamy things like they sell at Starbucks?”

“Please.” Jess shuddered in reaction. Sugary, icy mocha latte whatevers were definitely not how she preferred her coffee. But she did like to drink something that might leave her stomach lining intact. “And you still didn't tell me your name.”

He debated on that for a minute, trying to decide whether he should give her the name he was currently using legally. Finally he gave her the name he'd been given years ago when he was still a child. “You can call me Vax.” Even as he told her, though, he wondered why. Only a handful of people knew his real name. Why the hell had he chosen to tell a total stranger?

“And is that your first name, last name, or neither?”

He smiled at her over the rim of his coffee cup. “Take your pick.”

Her pretty green eyes narrowed. He thought she was going to say something, but instead she just turned to the fridge and opened it. She took out a plastic bag full of bagels, and Vax watched as she popped one into the toaster. The scent of toasting bread drifted through the room, and accordingly his belly started to rumble. “Not much of a breakfast.”

She glanced at him and shrugged. “I'm not much of an eater.”

Shoving up from the table, he said, “That's okay. I am.” He went for the fridge and opened it to find mostly bare shelves. No milk. No juice. A carton of eggs, a few veggies, and several different kinds of cheese. A few things of Chinese takeout that looked ages old, and some deli meats. “Man, you aren't kidding.”

“Huh?” She gave him a puzzled look that quickly shifted to outright irritation as she watched him open one of the containers of Chinese food. He sniffed it and then he closed it and tossed it over her head. He heard it land in the trash as he reached for another one. “What do you think you're doing?”

Vax straightened and met her annoyed gaze with a smile. Mildly, he replied, “I'm going to make an omelet. I'm hungry, and I don't think a bagel is going to do much to fill me up.”

“I don't think I offered you one.”

Vax reached out, catching a thick lock of pale blonde hair. He gave it a tug before letting go. “That's okay. I don't want a bagel. You know, you ought to clean out your refrigerator a little more often than once a season. That moo shu was about to grow legs and walk out of your fridge.”

She gritted her teeth, and he turned away to hide his grin. He grabbed eggs, a tomato, one of the hunks of cheddar, and the package of shaved ham. Whistling, he walked over to the stove and dumped the ingredients onto the counter before hunting down a skillet. From the corner of his eye, he could see her standing by the fridge and glaring at him.

She was irritated as all get out. He could tell just from the look on her face, the way she stood glaring at him, hands fisted on her narrow hips. But he couldn't sense anything from her.

“You know what an Empath is?”

“Yes.” She spat out the word like she had something nasty in her mouth.

He finally found a skillet in a cabinet under the sink. Most of the counters were dusty. It didn't look as if she'd cooked in here for months. Odd, though. Most of the stuff was the high-end variety, and all of it looked like it had been put to good use. He sauntered back over to the stove and started searching for something to grease the skillet with. All he found was some low-calorie spray crap, but it was better than nothing. Well, at least he thought so until he smelled it. “This stuff smells like crap. Why the hell do people cook with it?” he muttered, reading the ingredient label.

“What would you prefer that I use? Lard?” Jess said with a saccharine smile.

“No. Butter or vegetable oil works just fine.” He ignored her sarcasm as he greased the skillet and turned on the stove. As the skillet began to heat, he grabbed a bowl from a cabinet and began cracking the eggs.

“Since you know what an Empath is, I don't suppose you can tell me why I can't feel anything from you?” He spun around and braced his back against the counter, watching her as he started to beat the eggs. If he hadn't been watching her so closely, he would have completely missed seeing the surprise in her eyes.

“An Empath,” she repeated slowly.

He crooked a brow at her. “Why are you surprised?”