40 Souls to Keep - 5. Chapter 5

Number forty.

Jase had been waiting for this one. He’d been in Texas for three weeks, staying with some rancher while he waited for the dream to come to him. When it had finally, he couldn’t escape fast enough, leaving in the middle of the night without so much as a goodbye to his lover of almost a month.

After seven years, it was finally going to be over.

He couldn’t decide between apprehension and delight. So close. Just one more person to heal. Number forty. And, of course, she came with a problem.

“Lucas,” Jase said, drawing the name out.

He’d dreamed of her, Macy. A girl with mousy brown hair and soulful eyes—but there had been a man in the vision too, with features as shrouded as hers had been vibrant. Could it have been Lucas? And if it had, what did his presence mean for Jase?

After leaving through the side door—being thrown out, no need to sugarcoat it—he circled around to the outdoor courtyard that bordered the hospital’s café. Several tables filled the space, their umbrellas closed and pointing like spears toward the sky. The café was closed, but Jase caught a glimpse of it through the towering glass wall. Pretty fancy. Seemed overkill for such an empty hospital.

Finding number forty here was rotten luck. He would have blended in much better at a busier hospital. He’d never seen an ER so empty. It was eerie. It would make getting to Macy even more difficult. None of it had worried him initially, but he also hadn’t counted on coming up against somebody he couldn’t influence. That had only ever happened once before. He pulled out a wrought-iron chair and sat, facing the dark café. Warm, damp air rustled the date palms overhead. Colorful, fragrant flowers spilled from square marble urns. An empty paradise.

Now what? Wait out Macy’s fierce protector? It was the most logical course of action. Lucas couldn’t keep her close forever. And if that became an issue, well, the guy had to sleep sometime. Jase only needed a moment. One touch.

The thought of his ordeal ending sent excitement zinging through his chest. How would it happen? Would he remember everything at once? A bit at a time? Would he recall the past seven years and all his deeds, good and bad?

Jase had turned these thoughts over in his mind a thousand times, and the answer had always been the same: I don’t care. He just wanted his life back. The ache to know the person he’d been before had never been more acute. The answers were near. It would end here with number forty. Absently, he rubbed the tattoo.

Maybe even tonight.

Movement to his right snapped his attention back to the present. A security guard, not the officer from before, clomped down the steps into the courtyard, panning his light over the tables. With a sigh of regret, Jase crossed his legs and waited until the beam of light reached him, then raised a hand in greeting. Loud footsteps approached, and Jase had to shield his face as the light grew brighter.

“Sir,” the guard said. “The café is closed, and this area is off-limits this time of night.”

“Sorry,” Jase said, smiling. “I was just resting my legs. Thinking. Is that all right?”

The man stumbled, then recovered his stride. This close, the moon provided enough pale light to see by, and to Jase’s relief, he shut off the flashlight. “Yeah, of course.”

“I won’t cause any trouble,” Jase assured him.

“I know you won’t.” The guard smiled at Jase as if he were an old friend. “But we got a report of someone sneaking around out here. You should be careful.”

“That was probably me.” Lucas hadn’t wasted any time siccing the dogs on him. Jase came to his feet. “Sorry to worry you.”

“No.” The guard shook his head. “Don’t think it was you. The description I have is for a guy bigger than you, broader, dressed all in black, and he had some sort of coat with a hood.”

For some reason the visual made Jase’s mouth go dry. “Sounds suspicious.”

“Yeah.” The guard nodded. “Better head back inside. Safer.”

Really? The empty building had made him feel anything but safe. The silence was unnerving. Plus, returning inside meant there’d be a chance of running into Lucas again, and Jase still hadn’t worked out how to deal with him. They nodded at each other as the guard moved off, and, more unsettled than before, Jase sat back down, pondering the protective Lucas.

He’d been doing this for too long. All it took was one person to resist him, and he was at a loss. Once upon a time, he’d taken great care in not talking to anyone, simply to avoid feeling like a rapist. But that had eventually passed. Time and habit, and a healthy dose of cynicism, helped.

Looked like he was going to have to fall back on good old negotiation, as rusty as that skill would be. He rubbed his eyes. Another sound, the shuffle of a shoe on stone, drew his eye back to the steps. This time it wasn’t the security guard. At the top of the steps stood a figure wrapped in a hip-length coat with a loose hood.

This was obviously who the guard had been looking for. Jase wasn’t impressed. Just another kid playing a prank, more than likely, although the body under the coat had some bulk to it, just like the security guard had claimed. “This area’s off-limits,” Jase called. “Why don’t you go back inside?”

A hand emerged and curled around the metal rail. Other than that, the person didn’t move.

What the hell? Two people able to resist him in the same night? Maybe Lucas wasn’t an anomaly. Frowning, Jase stood, hands on his hips. “Clear off,” he said more firmly. “Before security finds you.”

That worked. The figure turned and ran, his low, husky laugh following him up the stairs and out of sight.

What kind of freak show had he wandered into?

Swallowing a groan, Jase leaned over, bracing his hands on the glass table. He needed to get to Macy and that meant circumventing Lucas somehow. He cast about for an idea and came up empty. And that meant taking advantage of his power, whether he liked it or not.

“Time to improvise,” he muttered, starting for the path that led to the ER entrance.

* * *

The nurse sitting at the admitting desk flashed him a perfect smile. “You’re back!”

“I am,” Jase said. She’d let him through the first time and looked poised to do so again. He reached through the window and placed his hand over hers before she could press the button to open the doors into the ER.

“That’s okay. You don’t have to let me in. I just have a few questions about the little girl you told me about earlier. You said her name was Macy Pearl.”

“That’s right.”

He hated doing this. Jase rested his elbows on the counter and leaned close. “I was just wondering. Is she hurt? Sick?”

The truth was, he knew nothing about the girl, but he wasn’t surprised to find her in a hospital. He ended up in these places more than anywhere else. He’d healed scores of accident victims. A few times at the scene and once even in surgery. But what was the deal with the police officer and the scrappy Lucas? His brief conversation with the policewoman—I thought you were supposed to stay with the girl—made a convincing case that he wasn’t Macy’s father.

“What happened to her?” he pressed.

The nurse’s face fell. Moisture shone in her eyes. “It’s horrible. Her parents were murdered tonight.”

That brought Jase’s heart into his throat. “Is she okay? Is she injured?” Don’t let me be too late. Not for number forty.

“No.” The nurse bit her lip, glancing over his shoulder. “Just in shock, I think. I heard she escaped. Ran away before they could find her. Right into the canal with the alligators.” Her voice squeaked on the last word. Jase could see why. “They’re saying...” She glanced behind her. “They’re saying it was a drug deal gone wrong.”

“Who’s saying that?” he demanded. He needed information—relevant, real-time facts. Heart pounding, he reassessed the situation. He didn’t believe in coincidences. His call to heal the girl had to do with the murders somehow. Was she a target, then? No wonder Lucas had looked ready to punch him. “I take it that’s the reason for the police protection.”

The woman nodded. “Scary, isn’t it?”

Yeah, more than Jase wanted to admit. “So what will happen to her now?”

Shrugging, the nurse said, “I guess they’ll put her in foster care. I don’t really know.”

That made two of them. With a parting watery smile, Jase turned from the window and paced across the room. Just his luck that number forty was turning out to be so difficult. In seven years, he’d found himself personally threatened exactly three times, and two of those had happened in the first two weeks. He hated whatever mythical power had given him carte blanche with other people’s psyche, but it did have the fortunate side effect of keeping him mostly safe.

Now he had Lucas and a couple of murders to throw into the mix. “Figures,” he muttered. Fate would have to make his last test the hardest one yet. Maybe he could sneak past Lucas. Circle behind the bastard. The thought brought a harsh laugh. Seven years and he was still flying by the seat of his pants most of the time. Well, what the hell? It worked. And however things panned out, it wasn’t like there’d be witnesses.

The waiting room was empty.

Decided, he turned back to the admitting nurse...and that was when the screaming started.

The sound froze him, but like some twisted version of red light, green light, as soon as the scream died, his muscles unlocked and he flew across the room to the nurse’s station.

“Open the door,” he yelled as he slid to a stop, upending the three brochure stands perched at the window. They fanned out across the floor. Jase didn’t spare them a glance. “Hey,” he shouted, banging on the glass. “Hey!”

No one came. The chair beside the desk swiveled lazily, as though someone had just given it a kick. He backtracked to the swinging doors a few yards away. Throwing his shoulder against them did little good—they were locked tight. The utter silence of the place terrified him. There were no running feet, no answering cries. No activity of any kind to indicate that someone was in trouble. And that someone, judging by the scream, was definitely Macy.

Jase pounded on the doors. “Hey! Open up!”

Nobody came. Instead, the lights went out. For a split second, the room was pitch-black. The emergency lights kicked on less than five seconds later, but to Jase, huddled against the immovable doors, straining for any sound at all, it could have been five years. The fluorescent fixture over the nurse’s station flickered on, gaining strength until its pale halo reached him, but it threw more shadows than light. A line of recessed ceiling lights began to glow in the waiting room, like the ones used in five-star restaurants. Just enough to keep people from tripping over their own feet. Mood lighting in the ER.

He threw a kick at the door. The mechanism gave a whirring hiccup, then another, and the door clicked open. A sliver of light spilled out. Jase blinked. “Open fucking sesame,” he said as he swung it open and peered inside. Nothing. Nobody. He slipped through and edged down the corridor, his back to the wall. At the first intersection, he stopped and listened, and now the commotion was audible.

A child was sobbing. Macy, he assumed. He heard women yelling, and above it all, a man barking orders. Jase recognized the voice—Lucas. Screw stealthy. He broke into a run, heading toward the sound of Lucas’s voice.

As he approached the next intersection, the voices grew louder, and Macy screamed again, following the terrified screech with, “It’s him! It’s him!”

“Run, Macy!”

Jase skidded around the corner just as Lucas shoved Macy out of her curtained alcove. She sailed across the slick linoleum in her socks and straight into Jase’s arms. He couldn’t have planned it better.

She stiffened, eyes widening. Jase pulled her close and ducked behind a nearby supply cart. “Shh, Macy,” he said, smoothing her tangled hair. “Don’t make a sound.”

She clamped her mouth shut.

The relief was physical; every muscle in his body, even some he hadn’t realized were tight with tension, relaxed. After the incident with Lucas, he hadn’t been sure what to expect, but Macy remained quiet as a mouse in his arms, even if her eyes were wild with fear. Jase went on petting her hair, brushing the tangled strands from her face. “My name is Jase. I’m going to help you. Don’t be afraid. Just stay quiet, okay?”

Macy’s eyelids drooped. She nodded.

The urge to take her and run...he could barely fight it. She was the last one, and this fight wasn’t his. But damn his conscience, he couldn’t leave yet.

He yanked an armful of towels out of the bottom of the cart and tossed them into the exam room behind him. “In here, sweetie.” Between his shoving and her climbing, she made it into the cart without incident. She had to curl into a ball to do it but didn’t complain.

Jase took a deep, steadying breath, conscious of precious seconds ticking away. “Now stay here and don’t make a sound. I’ll be right back, okay?”

Dutifully, she nodded. Jase settled the canvas cover over the cart, hiding her from prying eyes. He hoped he could keep his promise. The smart decision would be to run, and he almost did when another screech split the air. A woman, not a child. Was he willingly going to run into this mess for some guy who obviously hated him?

“Get away from her!” Lucas shouted, and that decided him.

He followed a thump and a crash back around the corner. Tangled in the hanging white curtains a few feet away were two struggling bodies. Jase stopped short. The emergency lights did little to illuminate the scene, but the man fighting with Lucas was dressed similarly to the hooded figure from earlier. This man seemed even larger. His hood was cinched tight and pulled low over his face, and although his fighting style lacked Lucas’s fluid grace, he obviously had weight and strength on his side.

They stumbled free of the billowy cotton, but before Jase could step forward to help, Lucas spun. No, he did more than spin. He spun, then kicked, then tucked, moved his arms in a blur, and in less than three seconds, the hooded man hit the floor with a grunt.

Jase stopped short a few feet away. Good thing he hadn’t antagonized dear Lucas any more than he had when they’d met earlier.

“Stay down, you fucker,” Lucas growled.

The man jumped to his feet anyway, though he looked a little worse for wear. He feinted left, but Lucas barely twitched and was ready when the man came at him from the right. He blocked one blow as the guy rushed forward, but the momentum of their struggle carried them both back through another curtain. It ripped from the track above, and Jase heard another crash, this time accompanied by breaking glass. He rushed forward, skating on the clutter of medical supplies that littered the floor, and tore the curtain aside.

He came up on the pair just as the hooded man lifted Lucas by the collar of his shirt and swung his arm back. Jase sprang. In the split second before he landed on the attacker’s back, his eyes met Lucas’s. Dazed, Lucas nonetheless took advantage of the help. When the attacker arched back, clawing at the arm Jase had wrapped around his neck, Lucas kicked out, planting both feet in the guy’s gut.

The guy choked and went down, Jase still crushing his windpipe. Spitting out one more pathetic gurgle, he went limp on the floor. Jase climbed off and backed away, swiping a hand over his mouth.

Run.

His body twitched before giving up on that plan, and he sagged against the tipped gurney. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Lucas said, panting, his voice hoarse. The lights flickered, and they both looked at the ceiling. The row of fluorescents flickered for a few seconds, buzzing angrily, then went dark again. “What,” Lucas wheezed, “is going on?”

Hadn’t he made the connection? “It’s Macy,” Jase said. “It has to be.”

If possible, Lucas went paler. “Macy.” He stumbled past Jase and into the corridor. “Macy!”

Jase caught up and took his arm. “She won’t answer you.”

Tearing free, Lucas snarled, “What do you mean she won’t answer? She fucking adores me.” He stabbed a finger at his chest.

Jase could see the attraction. “Because I told her to stay quiet, no matter what.” To Lucas’s disbelieving face, he added, “Come on.” Shouldering past, he started toward the intersection of hallways, grabbing the sleeve of Lucas’s shirt and urging him to follow.

Lucas held back. “Wait. She’s okay?” Agitated, he glanced the other way down the hall.

“Yeah, she’s okay.” God, he hoped she was. Itching to make sure, Jase edged forward, tugging Lucas with him. They were both panting, but Jase was pretty sure his racing heart was panic-induced while Lucas just looked angry. He couldn’t fail Macy now. He’d come this far, and he wasn’t going to let his reward be snatched away at the last second.

Still, Lucas hesitated.

“I’m getting Macy,” Jase said, at the end of his patience.

Shockingly, Lucas nodded. “You’ll keep her safe?”

Yes, but wasn’t that Lucas’s job? “Where are you going?”

Jase started off in the opposite direction. “I have to check on Melissa. The doctor,” he clarified. “There were two of them.” He jabbed his finger at the unconscious man.

Another goon wandering around somewhere...and Macy was alone and unprotected. Jase went cold. Without another word, he spun and took off, leaving Lucas to play the knight in shining armor. Saddled with a sick feeling that the cart would be gone when he got back, he was relieved to see it right where he’d left it.

Now if only...

He flipped open the canvas cover. Macy stared back at him. The kid really did look like a gutter rat, with her hair all tangled and streaks of dirt covering her face. She stunk of rotting vegetation—from wading around in the canals, probably.

Jase held out his arms. “You did great, sweetheart. Perfect. Just like a church mouse.”

A flash in her eyes accompanied a slight tightening of her mouth.

“Sorry,” Jase said, tapping her on the nose. “How about...quiet as a fairy princess?”

Score. A slight smile tugged at her lips, and this time when Jase held out his arms, she climbed into them. Don’t get complacent, he reminded himself as he tucked her close and rose to his feet. If Lucas was right about the second guy, they were still in danger. He sidled down the hall toward the exit he’d used before, keeping to the shadows, doing his best to muffle his footfalls.

Why was Macy a target? The most logical reason was that she’d witnessed the murders. It was more than the most logical explanation—it was the only explanation, even if it felt off. Unless Lucas had more light to shed on what had happened, that was Jase’s theory of the moment.

He reached the double doors situated near the back of the ER. On the other side were the dark medical offices, where he’d had his run-in with Lucas earlier. And at the end of that hall, the exit that circled around to the outdoor courtyard. Where he’d seen one of these guys already.

It didn’t matter. This was his best option. As he eased the door open and slipped through at a crouch, he felt a twinge of guilt for leaving Lucas alone. “Get over it,” he muttered. Going after his doctor friend had been Lucas’s idea. Concentrate on Macy.

With only the emergency lights to guide him, Jase hurried down the hall to the exit door. The play of shadows along the walls unnerved him, and he was relieved to finally push through to the outside. Here, the song of a million insects echoed in the air, and he smelled a hint of sea salt. He spared a minute to stand in the shadow of the concrete wall, listening, before moving off toward the café. Macy clung to him with arms and legs, chin on his shoulder. Although he didn’t need to, he tried to reassure her. “Everything’s going to be fine, Macy.”

“But what about Lucas?” she whispered.

Yeah, that was worrying Jase as well. “He’s fine,” he said, wishing he had some concrete evidence of that.

He turned the corner, and the courtyard stretched out before him, spreading in a semicircle around the wall of glass that marked the hospital’s café. It looked empty. The palms swayed in a gentle breeze. The chair where he’d sat earlier was pushed back away from its partners—the only thing out of place. The generous moonlight did little for his anxiety. He counted a dozen hiding places where the shadows were deep enough to hide a person.

“Okay, Macy,” he said in her ear. “Here we go.” For better or worse.

He took off across the courtyard at a jog, dodging tables and planters, acting a little too much like a mouse in a maze for his liking. His sneakers squeaked over the textured Spray-Crete. Halfway across the open space, he knew it was going to go wrong. Movement in the corner of his left eye had him dodging instinctively to the right, ducking as something hurtled out of the dark. Bare fingers grazed his arm, catching just enough of his shirt to throw him off balance, and he stumbled into a patio table, jarring his hip. Macy cried out at the impact, and her arms tightened around his neck.

Acting more out of panic more than self-defense, he released his hold on Macy, relying on her viselike grip to keep them attached, and grabbed a chair. With a mighty yell, he swung it around.

Just distract him. Slow him down.

His timing was perfect. Talk about batting a thousand for the night. First Lucas pushed Macy right into his arms, and now he’d taken his attacker square in the chest and stomach. Air whooshed out of the guy’s lungs like a deflating balloon and he rolled backward, executing a clumsy somersault before tangling up underneath the next table.

“Good shot!” Macy screeched in his ear, sending Jase into hysterical laughter.

Wrapping her up tight once more, he turned and ran toward the stairs that led to the front entrance, blinking back tears as the pain overcame the adrenaline. His hands stung, and his right arm ached as if it’d come loose at the shoulder. Next time, he was leaving the Chuck Norris stuff to Lucas.

Next time?

“What next time?” he said aloud, panting as he took the steps two by two. He stumbled to a stop at the edge of the portico, reluctant to tip his hand by running into the light, meager as it was. In the distance, a police siren swelled. Lucas was nowhere to be seen. Now what?

Naples wasn’t exactly New York. Especially the northern part, where NSUC was located. Earlier in the night, he’d followed his gut through the city proper, hitching a ride with a couple of old ladies headed home from the casino. By the time they’d dropped him off—after offering to take him home for the evening—they were five miles off the beach. Not exactly bustling with nightlife. Now he had no car and no plan. For once, flying by the seat of his pants hadn’t worked. That was what he got for assuming number forty was going to be a cakewalk.

He heard the roar of the engine before the high beams panned over him and had just enough time to skip backward as a dark blue Jetta screamed around the traffic circle, jumped the curb and bounced to a halt in front of him. The passenger door swung open, revealing a wild-looking Lucas. “Get in.”