Eternally Yours 1 Page 16

  Sherman’s amphibious eyes narrowed into slits beneath his sparse snowy brows. “Of course, Luc. If you’re sure…?”

  In reply, he pulled her away from Sean, away from Sherman’s reptilian clutches, and hauled her up against his hip. She never reacted. Jesus. She’s become a mannequin, completely malleable. And the idea horrified him.

  “Yeah,” he growled at Sherman. “I’m sure.”

  Silence permeated the room, with the men staring at each other in a mute, immobile tug-of-war. Jodie made no motion, no sound.

  As Luc anticipated, Sherman blinked first. “That is your prerogative.”

  “Yes, it is,” he replied, his terse tone leaving no room for additional argument. It was a prerogative he’d never before invoked, which probably explained Sherman’s hesitancy.

  “Sean?” Sherman turned to the other hunter. “She’s your bounty. Do you have any objection?”

  Luc’s patience, thin as a single hair, snapped. “She’s nobody’s bounty. She’s my partner.”

  Flashing an enormous shit-eating grin, Sean bowed. “I have no objection, Sherman. In fact, I think the idea perfect.”

  Later, Luc would have to seriously consider kicking the snot out of Sean Martino. But for the moment, Jodie needed him more. “Come on, babe,” he crooned and drew her forward.

  The auditorium doors snicked open, and then quickly closed, sealing them inside. Before them, the long aisle waited. Squeezing her wrist for reassurance, Luc led her toward the dais where the Council of Elders waited their turn to reprimand the runaway.

  “You don’t have to stay with me,” Jodie whispered, her feet slowing to the pace of a condemned prisoner’s.

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “I’m a big girl. I don’t need a bodyguard.”

  Funny. Away from Sean and Sherman, her spark had rekindled. Good. He far preferred the feisty Jodie he knew to the doormat he’d seen in the Reception Area. Go figure…

  “What you need is a friend,” he murmured. “And in this place, I’m the closest thing you’ve got.”

  Frowning, she yanked her hand from his. “I don’t want your pity, Luc.”

  “Glad to hear it. Because I’m not a pity kind of guy. I do, however, grant respect where respect is due. And honey, you’ve earned mine.” His hand clamping her forearm, he tilted his head near her ear. Now he needed to earn hers. “No matter what you’re feeling right now, take my advice here, okay?”

  Head cocked, she gazed at him, a thousand questions mirrored in her oceanic eyes. “How do I know you’re not going to offer me bad advice to kick me out of bounty hunting?”

  Wow. He winced. She might as well have punched him in the gut. But he held up his hand, a thumb crossed over his palm, and leveled a steady honest stare her way. “Scout’s honor. My only objective is to get you out of here fast so you can rest away those battle scars. Okay?”

  For a long moment they stood still, bookends, facing each other with a wall of silence between them.Finally, she sighed. “O-okay. What should I do?”

  “Be honest. Accept their pronouncement, promise them you’ll never run again and we’ll go back to bounty hunting as if nothing unusual happened between us. Think you can do that?”

  The surrender in her expression angled to disbelief. “Of course I can,” she snapped. “After all, nothing unusual did happen. Right?”

  The one-eighty in her demeanor startled him. What had he done to piss her off this time? He studied the bristle of static electricity bouncing off her. Hoo-yeah. She was furious. Now, however, with a dozen Elders standing by, was not the time for the two of them to enter into a heated debate. “Yeah,” he said flatly. “Right.”

  As they neared the dais, two of the Elders floated forward, one male, one female. The others disappered in wisps of white smoke.

  Luc recognized the male as Placide, the Elder he’d chosen as a guide upon his arrival in the Afterlife. Tall, slender, with short-cropped white hair, a British accent and stiff formal manners, Placide bore a striking resemblance to the actor, Michael Caine. Which had been one of the reasons Luc had selected him from the twelve.

  From a young age, Luc had always dreamed of having enough money to hire a butler. And who better to play butler/valet in his fantasies than Michael Caine? For a short time in his teen years, he’d flirted with the idea of Sir John Gielgud, too. But Sir John lost his nomination when he played a butler for Arthur Bach in the comedy about the millionaire drunk playboy. Luc was nothing if not original in his thinking, and Hobson, the part played by Gielgud, was a bit too undignified for what Luc had always had in mind.

  Okay, so the Afterlife wasn’t exactly the same as the movies. Still the choice had suited him well, except when Placide harped on fears about Daphne’s betrayal twisting him into complicated knots.

  The female beside Placide, a lovely Grecian-looking lady with sparkling blue eyes in a heart-shaped face, was probably Jodie’s counselor. Sure enough, when the wise woman opened her arms, Jodie pulled away and raced into her embrace, a penitent child seeking solace at her mother’s breast.

  Placide, white cuffs flowing like ripples on a stream, clapped a hand on Luc’s shoulder. “Naturally, the Board counts on your discretion in this matter.”

  Luc frowned. “Of course.” Like they’d ever had to remind him about confidentiality before. Then again, he’d never escorted a bounty inside before.

  “While Serenity confers with Ms. Devlin, perhaps you and I should take this opportunity to speak?” Placide suggested.

  Hell, no. His head didn’t require whitewashing at the moment, thankyouverymuch.

  “I think I should probably return to the Halfway House and catch some sleep.” To punctuate his statement, he yawned, mouth opened in a wide o and arms flung wide. “You know how it is. So many souls to catch, so little time.”

  Placide’s deep frown told Luc his witty repartee had fallen on stubborn ears. “You and Ms. Devlin have been temporarily suspended from your duties.” He wagged an index finger. “This is not a request, Luc. These orders come directly from the Board.”

  A heated flush washed Luc’s cheeks. “Well, then, why the hell didn’t you just come out and say so?”

  One silver eyebrow arched in Luc’s direction. “Because I wanted to give you an opportunity to show me how much you’ve learned since your first time here.”

  Another test. And this time he’d obviously failed. Defeat stole his energy to argue or conjure up an excuse. Instead, he sighed. “What exactly did you want to talk to me about?”

  Over a low whoosh of air, light-paneled walls slid down from on high, separating the two men from Jodie and her counselor, from the dais, from the auditorium. An emerald velvet chair slapped the backs of Luc’s knees, forcing him to sit while Placide settled on a black leather chair beside him. A gleaming mahogany table, complete with a Wedgwood vase containing a simple arrangement of three ivory orchids, appeared between them. In the blink of an eye, the massive auditorium had become a comfortable board room scene, devised with Luc’s favorite familiars to put him at ease.

  Sometimes, like now, he resented the fact the Board knew everything about everyone. No one could ever mask a weakness or keep a secret with the Board’s mental manipulations. Every room, every spirit guide, every assignment was carefully designed to gain the subject’s complete and implicit trust.

  Placide laid his clasped hands on the deep red wooden tabletop. “You’ve undergone considerable changes recently.”

  An understatement. “You mean like the Board saddling me with a partner?”

  “A trainee,” Placide corrected. “You chose to make her a partner. And you came to that decision only moments ago. Why?”

  “Because I screwed up.” The words came easily, almost eagerly, from his lips. As if by saying them aloud, he might assuage some of his guilt. “I didn’t give her enough information before I allowed the Board to cut her loose.”

  “You were against her becoming a bounty hunter from the start. Now you expect us
to allow you to make her your partner? Why the sudden change?”

  To buy time, he studied his fingernails for invisible dirt. “I admit,” he said at last. “I wouldn’t normally sign up for a partner. But Jodie’s still too raw to be on her own. Part of that’s my fault.”

  “Your fault?”

  Luc hated the way the Elder always asked leading questions. Any idiot would know how Placide manipulated the conversation. “Look. Let’s cut through the bullshit, okay? It’s obvious you guys intend to make her a bounty hunter, regardless of my opinion on the matter.”

  “And what is your opinion?”

  As if he hadn’t made his opinion abundantly clear since Day One. But he swallowed the sarcastic retort and flipped up his hands in surrender. “Hey! It’s not my place to question the judgment of the Board or its Elders. The best thing I can do is make sure she’s as prepared as possible for all the scenarios she might encounter.”

  Placide’s index finger shot out, pointed like the barrel of a pistol. “She confuses you.”

  He gave a bitter laugh. “She makes me crazy.”

  “And yet you still wish to keep her with you.”

  “She needs me.”

  “Unlike you, who needs no one.”

  Was Placide mocking him? Annoyance stiffened Luc’s spine to steel. “I’ve been doing this job for a long time already. And up until I got saddled with a trainee, I had a perfect record. One trip out.” He held up his index finger. “One trip in. Every time. Perfect.”

  Placide smiled. “But Ms. Devlin’s far from perfect. In face, form, and motivation, she’s riddled with flaws. Is that why she confuses you?”

  “If I knew why, she wouldn’t confuse me, would she?”

  That eyebrow of disapproval arched again. “Still building barriers, Luc?”

  “No.” The terse reply might have had a better impact if he hadn’t delivered it with the same dull thud as a brick slapped atop a concrete wall. He sighed. “Look, I don’t know what you want from me here.”

  “Your honesty is all we require. So far, you’re doing fine. Shall we continue?” Placide shifted, folding one leg atop the other. “You and Jodie recently shared something very intimate. And when you woke, you were alone. Did you feel abandoned by her?”

  Wham! Did somebody get the license plate number of that truck?

  Pulling himself tight against the shock, Luc growled, “I’m not even going to ask how you know what Jodie and I ‘shared.’ Sure, I was a little taken aback to wake up alone. Then I realized she’d run to her former lover.”

  “Were you jealous?”

  “Hell, no,” he snapped. “I was pissed.”

  “Because her sudden disappearance reminded you of the doubts you’d experienced in your marriage on Earth? Do you think you painted your partner here with the same cheating brush as your wife there?”

  Rage propelled Luc to his feet. “Is there a point to this discussion, Placide? Because if not, I’d really like to go back to my room and sleep.”

  Placide never blinked, never lost his cool. “You woke because you had a dream. Tell me about that. You saw your last day on Earth again?”

  Luc’s knees wobbled, and he sank back into his seat, gripping the edge of the table tight enough to whiten his knuckles. Against the tide of bile rising in his throat, he managed to eke out a barely audible, “Yes.”

  “Why do you suppose that particular vision keeps coming back to you time and time again?”

  Sanctimonious bastard. Despite the violence brewing in his blood, he shrugged, feigning indifference. “You seem to know all about it. Why don’t you tell me?”

  Placide shook his head. “It is not I who needs to come to terms with unfinished business.”

  He forced a laugh, but it staggered through the air, clumsy and false. “Don’t look at me. I’m fine. Perfectly content here with my perfect job, perfect day-to-day existence, and perfect record.”

  “Perfection seems to be important to you. Do you ever see that as a flaw?”

  No way would he bite whatever lure Placide waved in front of him. “An odd question.” He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. “By definition, perfection has no flaws.”

  At last, Placide’s smooth exterior cracked into frown lines. “Eventually, Luc, you will need to face the issues that keep you from moving forward. We only learn from what we’ve accepted we cannot change.”

  This time, when Luc rose, he strode immediately to the door so there’d be no chance of turning back. “Then I guess it’s a damned good thing there’s nothing left for me to accept. Because I’ve swallowed just about as much of your psychobabble crap as I can stomach.”

  Chapter 20

  When Serenity stepped off the dais, Jodie broke away from Luc and ran into her open arms. Not since her parents passed away had she experienced such unconditional love flowing in waves.

  “I’m sorry.” She buried her face in the comfortable folds of Serenity’s gown. Tears stung her eyes, hovered on her inner lids, and then spilled down her cheeks. “I didn’t think. I just reacted—”

  “Sssh.” Serenity rocked her with the ageless motion of the tides. “You and I have a great deal to discuss. Are you prepared to hear the Elders’ judgment for your transgression?”

  Luc’s advice thundered through her head.

  Be honest. Accept their pronouncement, promise them you’ll never run again…

  No need to recall the rest of his words right now, the way he dismissed their intimacy so cavalierly—because “…nothing unusual had happened…” Asshole.

  She forced herself to take a deep breath and calm the brewing resentment inside her. If Serenity sensed her anger, the Elder might assume she’d refused to accept the Board’s pronouncement.

  Over Serenity’s shoulder, she shot Luc a look of pure disgust. Involved in some kind of debate with the tall, slender, white-haired man beside him, Luc never noticed.

  Figures. Even after terrific sex, I’m still forgettable to a man like him.

  Swallowing the bundle of nerves stuck in her throat, she pulled away from Serenity and nodded. The air around them hummed with anticipation, and Jodie squeezed her eyes shut. Her body stiffened in preparation for a blow, physical or emotional. What would they do to her?

  “Open your eyes, Jodie.”

  When she did so, the auditorium and its occupants had disappeared. She found herself standing beside Serenity in a vaguely familiar room. Mud and straw walls surrounded them on all sides. Oilcloth canvas covered the crooked cut-out window to her right. Straw mats sat around a low table covered by tiny tin cups of green tea with honey and a plate of iced cookies.

  In fact, the only details missing were the humid air scented with papaya and her mother’s voice crooning some silly song. Otherwise, this room resembled all the kitchens of her childhood in various villages in Central America.

  “Sit,” Serenity ordered as she swished her gauzy white skirt aside and settled on the nearest mat.

  Jodie sat across from her, picking up her cup and inhaling the sweet, subtle aroma.

  “Based on your rashness, the Board has decided you are not yet ready to solo as a bounty hunter. You will therefore continue your tutelage under Luc Asante. When the Board feels you’ve successfully matured enough to continue on without guidance, you will be notified.”

  The breath left Jodie’s lungs in one long exhale. A mixture of emotions rippled through her: relief that her punishment didn’t entail pain or banishment, disappointment at her own failure, and resentment she’d be forced to continue facing off with Luc, who’d no doubt relish delivering an I-told-you-so lecture every time she dared to contradict him.

  Before she might argue with the decision, Serenity held up a hand. “The Board is being very generous here, my darling girl. They understand the reason behind your flight, which is why they were lenient with your punishment. After all, you shared something extremely intimate with a virtual stranger.”

  Shame encircled Jodie,
a shabby, overgrown coat. How had they known about the melding episode with Luc? Was there nothing the Board didn’t know?

  “The Board is all-seeing, all-knowing, omnipotent,” Serenity replied. “If an incident concerns you, I am immediately made aware of it. And of course, Placide knows as well.”

  Jodie cocked her head, staring at this woman with newfound wonder. “Placide?”

  “Luc’s Elder Counselor.”

  “Oh.” Weird. She’d never thought about Luc having a counselor. He seemed so… independent. And yet, every bounty hunter had to have a counselor, right?

  Oh, God.

  Did that mean all the Elders knew she and Luc had…? She swallowed, but the lump in her throat didn’t budge. How humiliating! A vision floated in her subconscious, a dozen ageless witnesses watching and critiquing her sexual prowess. Like Olympic judges, they recorded her hang-ups and failures before holding up cards with scores ranging from zero-point-nine to two-point-five. Embarrassment burned her cheeks and throat.

  With a gasp, she slammed the door on that image, locking it with clicking deadbolts, and figuratively tossing away the keys. No way she’d ever function here if she continued following that embarrassing scenario. Too bad the table sat so close to the floor. Crawling underneath it to hide from Serenity’s knowledge was impossible.

  Adding fuel to the heat already suffusing her from head to toe, Serenity’s laughter filled the room. “We are not voyeurs, Jodie. Believe me. We Elders are far too busy to stand around watching what our charges are doing, my darling girl. Much less score your performance.” She sobered, her brows drawing into angled lines. “That does not mean, however, we are not aware of what occurs.”

  Jodie’s mind tried to grasp all the nuances of Serenity’s reply. Still some flotsam and jetsam floated by unheeded. “But, I don’t understand. How…?”

  “We absorb details in much the same way you receive information from the Board regarding your bounties. Data is provided on an as-needed basis.” She took a sip of tea, swallowed. “But because our memory banks are much larger, once we’ve absorbed information, we keep it for eternity. In case we need to call it forward again at another time. As for you and Luc, the moment you two melded in such an intimate manner, Placide and I received the pertinent facts so we might gauge your reactions.”