The Three Fates of Ryan Love (29 page)

S
abelle noticed the quiet first, the pain second. Coming back hurt just as bad as it had when she'd escaped. The shrill agony, the feeling of being flayed. Then she was through, her body trembling as she hit the floor hard. She opened her eyes with a gasp and sat up. She was in a small room with a couch, a lamp pooling soft light from the corner, and Brandy. The dog watched her with pricked ears and lolling tongue. Her fur was covered in dried mud. For a moment, Sabelle simply stared at her, trying to remember why.

It came back to her in a rush. Being pulled from this world like an orange from its skin. Aisa. Joel. Ryan, coming to the rescue.

To bring her home.

She turned, looking for him, and found Santo kneeling nearby with a blanket in his hands. He spoke softly, as if to a wild animal, as he draped it over her shoulders. Sabelle knew he spoke to her, but his words fell away as she searched the room for Ryan. She spotted Joel first, a few feet away, just as he sat up, his eyes wild, hair sticking out in all directions. Santo crossed to his side and handed him another blanket.

Behind her was a couch. A lump lodged in her throat as she turned and her gaze settled on Ryan's inert figure stretched on top of it. Roxanne was on her knees beside him, putting pressure on his chest, holding his nose and breathing into his lungs. She was sobbing as she did it, calling his name.

“It's been too long,
angelita
,” Santo said and pulled her away.

Sabelle scrambled on hands and knees to Ryan's side. He was so still. So pale.

“The ambulance should be here,” Roxanne said. “What's taking them so long? They'll help.” She nodded, as if this would make it so. “They'll save him.”

Sabelle took Ryan's hand in hers. It felt like ice. Tears swelled over her lashes and streamed down her face. She'd come here to save this man. In doing so, she'd forced him to give his life to save hers. The bitter irony of it made her sob. She crossed her arms over his thighs and cried for a heart so broken that she would never survive it.

“Why isn't he coming back?” Roxanne asked in a broken voice.

Santo pulled her into his arms. “For some the light of the Beyond is irresistible,
angelita
.”

“But he took something to bring him back,” she whispered. “Why isn't it working?”

Roxanne turned her face into Santo's chest. Sabelle turned her attention to Ryan. As if from a distance, she heard Joel asking about Elijah, Roxanne telling him that the hospital had called. He'd be okay. That was good. Now she needed to help Ryan be okay, too.

What had he taken to bring him back? She ignored everyone else and climbed on top of Ryan, straddling his hips. She felt the pockets of his shirt, moving down to his jeans. The dog tag was in his pocket, warm from its place against his body. She pulled it out and let it dangle on her finger. It caught the lamplight and glittered.

With a deep breath, Sabelle blocked everything else out. All that mattered was Ryan. She took his hand in hers, palm to palm, tag centered between them. Her other hand cupped his beloved face. “Don't leave me here on my own. Not without you.”

Loving Ryan had been like a fairy tale. He'd been her knight, her prince, her only love. She refused to let death be the ending of their story.

“That is not how it's meant to be, my love.”

Wiping her tears, Sabelle tore his shirt away so his chest was bare, wrapped them both in the blanket, and pressed her body close to his, stretching out on top of him. He was still warm, but not the furnace she'd known him to be. She closed her eyes, focused on her own heartbeat, and then she kissed him.

She kissed him like he was the air and the sea, the wind and the field, the rain upon parched earth. She kissed him like she was the sun and he the moon, pulling each other across the sky. She kissed him with love and hope, as he'd done to her so many times, focusing completely on the feel of his lips, the shape of his mouth. She gave him her heart. She gave him her breath.

“Come back to me.”

Quiet settled over the room, sucking away the sound of voices, the shifting of feet, the anxious fidgeting. Sabelle felt it deep inside her, a sinkhole that widened and deepened until nothing existed.

Eyes closed, she let her consciousness seep into it, using the sound of her breath to ground her as she slipped through. She kept Ryan in her mind, picturing Brandy's dog tag spinning in the light, catching, reflecting, illuminating the way.

The dark of her thoughts began to glow like a tiny flame to kindling. She blew softly against it and the flame jumped and spread. She called his name and from somewhere deep in the great unknown she heard a sound.

She focused harder, keeping Ryan's face in her mind, using her thoughts to turn the flames to an inferno that would light the way. She thought she heard her name, but a long, ragged scream shrieked through the dark and tried to snuff out her light. Sabelle clenched the dog tag and Ryan's motionless hand tighter.

Rage filled the shouts now, but Ryan's fingers twitched. She was sure of it.

“Come back to me, come back to me, come back . . .”

A ragged gasp raised his chest and rattled through his lungs, lifting Sabelle as air rushed in. Another breath followed the first. The screams from the Beyond echoed in the room, bouncing off the walls. The light in the kitchen shattered and the one on the table beside Ryan began to pulse.

“Ryan, come back to me.”

For an instant, the room lit up like a spotlight had been aimed at the windows. In it, she saw the shadow image of Ryan's silhouette clutching a fighting, snarling Aisa. The light flared, making her wince, forcing her to look away. She heard Roxanne cry her brother's name as Sabelle clenched her eyes against the blinding brightness. The shrieks made her head ring and then suddenly . . .

Silence.

She opened her eyes, looking down at Ryan. His chest rose and fell. She pressed her hands to his face, feeling the warmth against her fingers. Brandy seemed to understand and laid her nose on his legs.

His eyes moved beneath the lids and then . . .

They opened.

Sabelle stared into his beautiful green eyes and felt tears, hot on her face. His arms came up around her and he pulled her against him as she sobbed. At last she lifted her face and stared at him with all the love she felt.

“You did it, Ryan,” she murmured. “She's gone.”

The barest hint of a smile curled his lips. He laid a hand against her wet cheek. “And I'm still here, snowflake,” he said. “Thanks for turning on the lights.”

And then he kissed her again, sealing their fate with his love.

Enjoy this sneak peek at Erin Quinn's next book in her Beyond series

T
HE
S
EVEN
S
INS OF
R
UBY
L
OVE

Coming spring 2016 from Pocket Books!

T
he soul broker eyed the young woman sitting on the other side of the small café table with interest. Ruby Love looked nervous, which was not unexpected. Most people felt some degree of fear in his presence, and this woman looked clever enough to sense the danger. Yet Avery Broker couldn't be certain he felt fear in her. Or rather, fear of
him.

She was definitely spooked, though. It was there in the wary shift of her eyes, the way she perched on her chair, as if ready to bolt.

Intrigued, he skimmed her application while she glanced around the coffee shop, her eyes lingering on the floor-to-ceiling window at the front of the café. He wondered what she'd say if she knew that a dead man stood on the other side of the glass, staring in. No doubt she'd run screaming all the way home.

Smiling on the inside, he leaned back in his chair. Avery rarely interviewed prospective employees. He didn't care who brewed the coffee at the Coffee Broker unless they had a weakness he intended to exploit. But he was here this afternoon waiting on a mark, and the novelty of having one of the infamous Love siblings in his establishment was too great to resist.

And this particular Love had caught his eye the moment she'd walked through the door.

Though average height and average weight, Ruby Love was everything
but
average. Curves no male could miss made her demure attire seem naughty, though her pale blue blouse didn't strain at the buttons or plunge at the neckline—no matter how much he wished it would—nor did the khaki trousers cling too snugly at her hips. She appeared practical, sensible, and sensual in the way of prim librarians and overdeveloped Catholic schoolgirls.

He glanced at the clock on the wall behind her, then verified the time on his Tour de l'Ile watch. Twenty-two minutes. Time enough to peel back the layers and see what awaited inside.

“Ruby Love,” he said, reading the name on her application like he didn't already know who she was. “It says here you are currently employed at Shady Jayne's Bar and Grille.”

Ruby nodded, her shoulders tense, her crossed leg bouncing. Shady Jayne's catered to many of the same personae non gratae who would eventually end up sitting across the table from Avery, pleading for another chance they would never get. The dead man outside had been a frequent patron, as a matter of fact. But it was hard to picture Ruby Love, with all her sultry poise, serving such refuse.

“And before that, you were a part owner of Love on Tap
until . . .” He scanned the page, flipped it over, and scanned some more.

“December,” she said. “Love's was destroyed in the gas-leak explosions on Mill Avenue at the end of last year.”

“Of course.”

Her brows dipped. She'd heard his skepticism.

“And now you want to work here,” he said.

She shot another glance at the window. “Yes,” she said with a stiff smile that revealed straight, white teeth and two cute dimples.

Normally, Avery didn't care for cute, but coupled with those
talk dirty
lips, he couldn't look away. She stilled her bouncing foot, folded her hands in her lap, and pretended his steady perusal didn't unnerve her.

Humans. They pretended all the time.

“You seem a bit . . . agitated,” he commented mildly.

“Most people are when they interview for a job,” she replied, false smile still in place.

Most people, yes.
Most people
and Ruby Love seemed to have little in common, though.

“I don't see that you've ever worked as a barista, Miss Love.”

“No, but I'm a quick learner.”

“And why would you want to learn this? I need fewer than twenty hours a week and I pay only marginally better than McDonald's. You're obviously an intelligent woman who could aspire to much greater things, Shady Jayne's aside.”

Another quick glance at the window. Startled, he turned to look, too. Nothing outside but Bob Richards, with his dead eyes and lost soul. When Avery turned back, Ruby fixed her gaze on a point along his jaw. Tiny beads of perspiration covered her upper lip.

“I'm a student,” she said calmly, “and this looks like a nice place to work. I don't expect to retire from here in forty years, but it's a step up from Jayne's. I've bartended and waited tables. I even managed the waitstaff at Love's.”

“Tasks
and
responsibilities,” he said drily. “What are you going to school for?”

“Marketing with a minor in finance. I'll graduate at the end of next semester.”

Attractive
and
smart.

She bristled as if she'd heard his thoughts. Amused, he let the silence stretch another moment. “Did you handle the finances at Love's?” he asked at last.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“My brother was in charge of the books.”

“Rumor has it that your family was lucky Love's burned to the ground. The fire saved you from bankruptcy.”

“Rumors are ugly things.”

He'd hit a nerve. Those lush lips thinned. And her eyes . . . they couldn't decide if they wanted to be blue or gray, but they flashed at him as pink flags rose on her cheeks.

“Besides, people like to talk about my family. That doesn't make what they say true.”

Her family. Yes, he'd like to talk about her family, too, but there wasn't time today. He wanted her long gone before Daniel Fisher—his mark—walked in. A month ago he'd hired Ashleen—who was even now humming behind the counter—because she'd be irresistible to Fisher. He didn't need Ruby Love muddying the waters.

“Do you deny that your family's pub was a dinosaur in a world of skyscrapers?” he asked, succinctly bringing the conversation back to business.

“I don't feel the need to deny anything. I'm surprised by your assessment, though. Business seems a bit . . . lethargic here as well.”

He almost smiled. “And yet
here
is where you've applied for a job.”

“The coffee's good and if you hire me, I have some suggestions on how to bring in more customers.”

“I'm hiring a
barista
, Miss Love.”

He said it slowly, as if speaking to a moron.

“And wouldn't it be grand to have one who has ideas
and
knows how to give correct change?” she returned in kind.

Together they glanced at Ashleen, still humming as she arranged pastries on a glass platter. Doe-eyed and sweet, she had possibly three brain cells bouncing around in the vast and empty cavern of her head. Avery suspected they occasionally pained her. But he hadn't hired her for her business acumen, had he? Hapless Ashleen, with her perky breasts and cavorting wild-kingdom tattoos, would push Daniel Fisher over an edge he'd been balanced on for far too long. She could not, however, give correct change for anything over a dollar.

Ruby returned her gaze to his face and said nothing more. He smiled.

“You have my undivided attention, Miss Love. Wow me.”

Taking a deep breath, Ruby glanced at the window a fourth time, as if she couldn't help herself. A woman had joined Bob on the other side. Jasmine Nguyen, baby killer. She'd sold her soul for twelve years of freedom, but had lasted only eighteen months before guilt pulled the trigger on her life. Now she was in between: not welcome in heaven and ten and half years shy of getting her ticket to hell punched.

Ruby cut her gaze away from the souls and took another deep breath. The shadowed hint of cleavage peeping out at her neckline momentarily distracted him.

“You should have Wi-Fi,” she blurted.

More beads of sweat pearled on her lip. She pulled a napkin from the holder and dabbed them away before surreptitiously slipping a hand beneath the heavy weight of glossy hair and lifting it to cool her neck.

“Coffee is meant to be savored,” he murmured, watching her squirm. “Electronics sour the effect.”

“Said Godzilla to the skyscraper.”

“ ‘Get Wi-Fi' is hardly state-of-the-art marketing.”

“Just common sense. You're a mile from a university with over sixty thousand students. Sixty. Multiply that by two or three devices each . . .” She shrugged. “They follow the signals.”

He leaned forward suddenly, wondering if she'd recoil. Except for a slight flaring of her nostrils, she didn't flinch.

“Why do you keep looking out the window?”

“Why do you keep looking at your watch?”

“I'm a busy man.”

“I'm a student who relies on the light-rail. I didn't want to check the time during an interview. You can see the station from here.”

Avery narrowed his eyes at the lie. “What time is the next train?”

“Three fifty-five.”

He was still leaning in and now he caught a hint of her scent, as mystifying and enticing as the woman. Perhaps it had been working through him all along, firing synapses in his brain, making him hungry to touch her.

“I'd like a job, Mr. Broker. I understood from the sign in your window that you were hiring.”

True. He'd need to replace Ashleen by the end of the week and candidates wouldn't be lining up for the opportunity to work for someone who gave them the chills. Ruby Love didn't seem to have
that
problem with him, but she'd be far too distracting to have around.

He said, “You could make more money at any number of places that are ‘a step up'
from Shady Jayne's. Why are you willing to trade your livelihood for a change of venue?”

Color flooded her face and her eyes glinted accusingly, as if he'd tricked her. His curiosity beyond piqued, he waited while she considered him for a long moment, appraising, weighing,
judging.
He couldn't recall ever having been
evaluated
in such a way. The stormy mixture of gray and blue made her gaze unsettling. In fact, her eyes were nearly as distracting as her mouth . . .

Her gaze shifted to the window a fifth time. Now a small cluster of lost souls loitered outside. Jasmine had her face pressed to the glass.

He gave Ruby a sideways glance. Her skin had paled to the color of cream, her gaze was riveted.

She saw them.
It couldn't be clearer.

The interview had just become that much more interesting, but beyond the lost souls, Avery saw Daniel Fisher crossing the street. Early. It was time to end this interlude. Avery reached for the folder and Ruby's application, gathering them up.

Sensing her imminent dismissal, Ruby spoke quickly, her voice suddenly husky. “The truth is, I want the apartment.”

He froze, half rising from his chair. “The apartment?”

“Upstairs. The second floor.”

Flummoxed, he simply stared at her.

“I know you don't have it listed for rent, but it's vacant and that has to pose a risk to your business. Thieves could use it as a means of access to the café.”

Very stupid thieves, maybe. Very stupid thieves who wouldn't live long enough to regret their idiotic mistake.

He shook his head with astonishment, sitting again. “You want to guard my coffee shop?”

“It is vacant, isn't it?” she asked, ignoring his question.

“Tempe is filled with vacant apartments, Miss Love. The one upstairs will smell of coffee morning, noon, and night.”

Not even a flicker of distaste crossed her expression. If anything, she looked . . . hopeful. As if he'd said the place hid unimaginable treasures. Quickly, she lowered her eyes and concealed her thoughts behind the dark and silky veil of her lashes.

“I won't mind the smell.”

He pondered that, certain that the needy souls outside inspired her interest in his café and apartment. She'd realized that they wouldn't enter this place and now she thought it a sanctuary. It was a foolish notion. Sanctuary didn't exist.

Still, he wondered if the souls knew she could see them. Lost souls loved nothing more than an audience for their misery. If they had one in her, they'd be relentless.

She was staring out the window again. The souls stepped back as Daniel Fisher neared them, recognizing him for the killer he was. They knew what came next. Hadn't they each made a similar journey on their own? Their flavors of sin might have varied, but not the sprinkles on top. Baleful eyes turned Avery's way before, one by one, the lost souls faded into the hustle and bustle of Tempe.

Across the table, Ruby let out a shaky breath. The hand that smoothed her errant bangs was shaking. No doubt sensing his attention, she deliberately laced her fingers and settled her hands in her lap.

Avery wished he had more time to fit the puzzle pieces of Ruby Love into a neat picture, but Fisher entered whistling a merry tune, his gait easy. His blue eyes sharp. There was nothing extraordinary about his face or build, yet a frenetic energy followed him. Avery knew it was hinged on his thoughts about women. About hurting them. After years of impotence, Fisher was ready to make his fantasies come true.