“About the fourth day here, I wanted to go, Chronicles or no Chronicles. Ida had me convinced it wasn’t safe to stay here. These people can really hold a grudge. And they hate the name Stallbridge with a passion. It’s weird, but the animosity is still very much alive more than a century after some old feud.”
“So Ida said.”
“Their laws are archaic. A Stallbridge can be put to death on sight. The Baers don’t like you? They can throw you in jail. No due process, no right to counsel. Just locked up.” She looked at him with clear green eyes. “I don’t like any of the Baers, but Ernst is the worst. He’s grabby and doesn’t like to be told no.”
Jack wanted to haul her into his arms and promise to protect her from all harm. Then he wanted to find Ernst Baer and beat the shit out of him. So he did neither and waited for her to continue.
“But I was nice about rejecting him, and he’s giving me time.” She snorted. “As if a few days will make me drop my pants.” She met Jack’s gaze and turned bright red. “I mean, with you it was… It’s just… I didn’t mean…”
“Trust me. I get it.” It helped to see her so flummoxed, experiencing the same confusion he felt.
“Right.” She blew out a breath. “Well, so I tried to leave. I’d get close to the yellow gate, and one of the townspeople would find me. Then I’d be drinking cocoa or dancing at a festival. They have parties around here just about every day. It was like I was under a spell, because I’d get near that gate, and then someone would just appear right next to me.”
“What about the road? That’s how I got here.”
“I saw you on the road. I tried to go that way, but believe it or not, if you walk a few feet past the bend, where you came from, it dead ends in forest.”
“Not possible.” He’d driven for miles on that road. He sure the hell hadn’t been four-wheeling through the forest in his rental car.
“It shouldn’t be, but it is. All the other paths in town lead back to the main street. Trust me; I’ve tried to get away. This place is so off from anything I’ve been around, and I’ve been around some really weird stuff.”
Heather shook her head, the end of her braid just brushing the tips of her breasts. Breasts Jack had recently sucked but hadn’t seen, not really. He’d have to remedy that next time.
Next time? Internally shaking free of lustful thoughts that had no place in a mission, he focused on her words.
“I’ve talked about me. What about you?” she asked.
“Me?”
She nodded. “Owen said you’re special, that you and the people who work with you are psychic. Is that right?”
What the hell. Owen knew, and both he and Heather were psychic themselves. It couldn’t hurt to tell her. “I was part of the government’s Psychic Warfare Program, one of the original members of the PWP, in fact. We lasted a few years before some idiot bigwig took control of the program from the admiral running it and ruined everything. Psychic power for personal gain is a big no-no. It made the powers that be nervous about how strong we’d gotten.”
“So you just quit?” She sounded skeptical.
“We had a choice to be reassigned or start over. That admiral I mentioned? He’s a good guy and has friends in high places that took care of us. Not that he didn’t owe us a few favors for service above and beyond.” He missed Admiral London, though he didn’t miss the admiral’s wife. Not quite human, powerful beyond belief, and the woman had a habit of interfering in his life too many times to call it coincidence.
He wondered about this weird fascination with Heather. He understood her physical appeal. Hell, he had a pulse. But he wanted to know more about the whole package, and it had nothing to do with the mission and everything to do with getting closer to the woman on a personal level. “So what do you do when you’re not playing with cursed pornography?”
She sighed. “Chronicles isn’t porn, and it’s not cursed. Like I told you before, I can heal what’s broken. That applies to more than broken bones but to broken organizations as well. I tweak psychic energy to make it more in tune. Like with the Stallbridge charity organizations. I usually audit them twice a year to make sure everything is on the up-and-up. I can tell when the energy is fractured.”
“Yeah?” He wondered if she sensed anything about him. He disliked the notion of being easy to read.
She nodded. “This town is so full of energy that it’s hard to read anyone unless I’m actually touching or standing near them.” Her deep green gaze fastened on his. “You’re very strong, but you have deep wells of pain. I didn’t mean to but touched them earlier.”
“I felt it.” He’d sensed her trespass, but the gentle touch, the lightening of his pain merged with pleasure, had distracted him from her encroachment. “Don’t do it again,” he growled.
She didn’t respond, just stared at him with those big beautiful eyes. Her gaze traced his face, and he had a hard time not taking her against the wall again. The woman had a strong effect on his libido that didn’t make sense. Unless she was fucking with him, and he couldn’t see it.
“Are you trying to mess with my head?”
Her eyes widened. “No. Why?” She sounded nervous and lowered her voice. “Is something attacking you? I don’t sense anything, but I could be wrong. Are you hurting anywhere?” She stepped forward and grabbed on to his arm, then closed her eyes. She opened them seconds later. “I don’t sense any pain, well, other than what was there before.”
“Damn it. I said cut it out.” His growl sounded more like an embarrassing purr when she stroked his forearm.
She seemed lost in thought. “You’re huge. I mean, you must work out all the time.”
He had to clear his throat to respond. Damn, but around this woman, his cock was on fire and ready to slide inside her again. “I have to work out. It helps me stay in control.” Actually, the genetic manipulation that had enhanced his natural psychic ability years ago, courtesy of the US government, had also increased his sensitivity to stimulation. Jack had to physically work out to control his psychic and emotional stability.
That need for continual physical activity had made a gym the ideal place to start a new life. The workouts kept him and the team sane, provided income, and served as the perfect cover to blend into normalcy.
“I like to work out too,” Heather said.
“There are better ways to burn off stress than lifting weights.” Jack stared at her fingers stroking his arm. She looked small next to him, yet Heather was no petite female.
“Oh?”
“Yeah.” He took her hand and guided it to his cock pressed hard against his jeans. When she gripped him tight, he swore. “Fuck, yeah.”
The sound of Ida’s voice and the jiggling of the front doorknob jerked them apart, and Jack turned to head into the kitchen. He doused his overeager libido by downing a huge glass of water. Then he took another and clutched the kitchen sink for support. He controlled his emotions. He wasn’t controlled by them. What the fuck was Heather doing to him?
Ida entered the kitchen. “Ah, good. Heather tells me you two have come to an understanding. The sun has set, so it is time to go, yes?”
Jack nodded. “Yes.” Sooner I get Heather back, the sooner I can get her the hell out of my head.
“You mean heart,” Ida corrected with a wink.
Had she just read his mind? Before Jack could ask what the hell she’d meant, Ida hobbled to the door.
“Heather, grab your pack. Jack, time to meet Jan. And remember, it will take both of you to get off the mountain alive.”
It took him a minute to realize she spoke about him and Heather, not him and Jan. “Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled. “Let’s just meet this Jan guy and get the hell gone.”