Energized (26 page)

H
ANNAH
TRIED
NOT
to be nervous stepping back into the bathroom. But being followed into a restroom by four big guys, even big guys whose job was to protect you, was intimidating. She flipped on the light and said, “You know, Niall, I could install an energy-saver switch and bulb here. Wouldn't take much time.”

“Hannah—” Niall started but Dev cut him off.

“I know you're nervous, Han. You don't need to be. We won't let anything happen to you.” He patted her gently on the shoulder.

She couldn't quite suppress the smile. “I haven't been call Han since I was little.”

“Oh, sorry. It's what Jules and Shells call you when they talk about the past.” Dev glanced at his cousins as if for help, but Ryan's impassive expression never changed and Ian looked mischievous, as usual. “Ready, Hannah?”

“Han's fine. I kind of missed the nickname,” she admitted. “Yeah, I'm ready.”

At her words, Ian's face hardened. It was unnerving and fascinating. And just a little scary.

She blew out a breath. “Come on, universe. Show me a sign,” she said, stretching out her hand toward the faucet.

Before her fingers contacted the metal, Niall put a hand on her wrist, arresting the movement. “You don't have to do this. We can find another way.”

“Yes, I do.” She met his gaze. A war of emotions raged in his eyes. Fear, anticipation, hope, and despair were all there playing across his face. Then that beautiful green aura began to glow around him. It made her heart swell to the point it nearly choked her. He was afraid for his brother and wanted to protect her. God, she loved this man.

She'd suspected it the night they had met, impossible as it sounded. In this moment, suspicion gave way to truth. She loved him. She'd do anything to erase the loss he'd experienced over the last year. She might not be able to save his friends, but she might be able to save his brother.

“Niall, you need to let me do this. I need to. It's why the universe brought you to me.” She moved his hand from her wrist. Before he could stop her, she clamped a hand onto the faucet as she had done earlier.

The world around her faded to light gray smoke.

Behind her came the faint scuffling of shoes on tile. Muffled male voices faded with the room. And she was no longer herself.

*   *   *

R
OSS SAT AT
the bar sipping his scotch. Mercy couldn't stop her heart from racing. He was beautiful, kind, and so damned lonely. He didn't know what he was. She would show him.

She moved through the crowd at the pub. No one noticed her. No one ever did. Tonight, she counted on it. The only person who needed to see her was Ross. Sliding onto a stool next to him, she palmed the drug in her purse. Just a little in his scotch and he'd go anywhere she suggested. He only needed a little help to be the man he truly was.

Just like her first time. The brownie had helped her to see what she was.

She'd be gentle with Ross, as she'd been with the others. Wait for him to come to her. Show him he could be loved. Show him they were soul mates. After they made love, she'd set them both free.

She signaled the bartender. He strutted over and leaned on the bar.

“What'll it be tonight?” he asked. He might have been cut with that tight powder-blue shirt with O'Reilly's Pub emblazoned across the center of his chest, but he wasn't her type.

“Stoli Martini, extra dirty with three olives,” Mercy said.

She felt more than saw Ross shift on the seat and face her. Pretending not to notice, she waited for her drink, setting the cash on the bar. Mr. T-shirt returned with her drink and swept up the money in one deft move. She held the drink with one hand, being careful to keep the other one with the drug out of view. No one could see what she held there and she needed the distraction.

She hated the costume but it was a necessary evil. Anyone who bothered to remember seeing Ross tonight would only remember a woman leaving with him.

Sipping her drink, she glanced at Ross.

He nodded at her, an impersonal smile on his face. The grin gave way to surprise. He opened his mouth to speak, but she put her finger to his lips. “Shhh . . . our secret, okay?”

Ross glanced around the pub.

Mercy didn't hesitate. She dropped the drug into his scotch. It had already dissolved by the time he'd glanced back at her.

She sipped her martini again, giving him her most innocent face.

“I had no idea I'd see you here tonight,” Ross said, lifting his own glass to his lips. “You're the dead last person I ever expected to find in the pub dressed like that.”

Mercy shrugged, pretending his words didn't hurt. How could he not have known? She'd known him the moment he'd hired her at the Boxing Cat.

Her mother's awful voice screamed through her mind, “Stupid freak! I should have had an abortion.”

Go away! Go away!

Then her sister's voice rang out, “You stole my boyfriend. I told you, Mom. The freak's a whore!”

I killed you once you fucking bitch. Why won't you die?

“Hey? You okay?” Ross covered her hand with his. His touch silenced the voices in her head until she only heard him. “You look a little ill. Do you want to get out of here? Go somewhere and talk?”

Mercy's heart leapt.

Maybe she hadn't needed to drug him after all. He was already offering to leave with her. She didn't trust her voice not to crack and simply nodded.

During the short walk from the pub to her first-floor apartment on Arctic Circle, Mercy let Ross do most of the talking. He was still riding high from the success of the catering event. “The bride loved everything. We've got to remember to hire an extra couple of servers if the next wedding we cater is that big.”

He swayed and cradled his head in his hands.

“You all right?” Mercy asked, fishing her key from her purse.

“Yeah, too much celebrating, I guess.” He reached for her, missed, and face-planted into the sidewalk. Rolling onto his back, he laughed. “Crap. Niall's going to kick my ass if I show up hungover tomorrow.”

Mercy bent to help him up and into her apartment when someone called out.

“Ross?” Paulie came around the corner. “What are you doing?”

Mercy gave him her back. She couldn't risk him seeing her face. One look and he'd know.

Stupid interfering bastard.

“I've got him,” Mercy whispered, letting her blond hair fall in front of her face. “Thank you, sir,” she said, pretending not to know Paulie.

“Hey, Paulie!” Ross threw his arms around the man. When he kissed Paulie on the lips, Mercy's vision went bloodred. She'd planned to let Paulie go. Not anymore.

“Actually, if you could hold him while I open the door,” Mercy said, using a sugary tone that made her own teeth ache.

“You're going in there? With her?” Paulie's tone was incredulous. “Who the hell
are
you? You don't live here.”

Mercy ground her back teeth as she jammed the key into the lock. Without looking back, she flung the door wide and reached for the bat she kept just inside. Without hesitation, she grabbed and swung wide.

Paulie threw up an arm to block the swing. There was a satisfying crack as the bat broke his arm. Ross, who'd been leaning on Paulie, crashed to the sidewalk. His eyes rolled up.

Mercy smiled at her sleeping lover, then glared at Paulie.

“What? Why?” He gaped in recognition and his eyes widened in horror. “God, please! Don't!”

He tried to crawl away, only making it as far as the mouth of the alley before Mercy hit him twice more. Blood poured from his ears and his head. His body didn't even twitch.

Satisfied with a job well done, Mercy turned to where Ross lay on the ground. She lifted him into her arms and carried him inside. Once he was secured on the bed, she returned to the alley.

Had Paulie moved?

Her mind was playing tricks on her again. He couldn't have moved. Snatching up his wrist, she felt for the familiar
thump, thump, thump
. Nothing. With a sigh of relief, she dragged his body deeper into the alley. She considered putting him in the Dumpster, but didn't want to risk it. No, she'd leave him buried beneath the empty boxes tossed out by the Save-N-Go. If he was still here tomorrow night, she'd cut him into manageable pieces and toss him into the ocean. If someone found him sooner, they'd assume it was a mugging gone bad.

Whistling “Mercy” by OneRepublic, she headed home.

H
ANNAH
LOOKED
AS
if she were being electrocuted. Her body trembled and jittered. Her eyes rolled back in her head but she remained upright.

“We've got to stop her,” Niall said, reaching for her. Someone, probably that Hollywood wannabe, shoved him back. He swung around to face a human wall of McKinnons. “You ever put your hands on me again, I'll fucking feed you your own dick.”

Ian laughed. “Try it, asshole.”

Dev jabbed an elbow into the cocky bastard's ribs. “Not helping, Ian.”

Ryan stared at them all with his fucking impassive expression. The man was a human cyborg. “I know this is hard, but she wanted to do this.”

“Yeah, she did. Now it's time to stop it.” Niall reached behind him and grabbed a fistful of her shirt. He yanked her free of the sink, breaking the connection. With an inhuman cry, she collapsed. Niall pivoted in time to catch her.

The scent of honeysuckle and fear-soaked sweat permeated the air. Her head lolled back and her eyes remained closed. He shook her gently in his arms. “Hannah. Hannah, wake up and talk to me.”

“Give her a second,” Dev said, squatting down and taking her pulse at her neck. “She's alive. Probably just fainted. She'll come around.”

“What makes you such a fucking expert?” Niall couldn't—wouldn't—disguise the venom.

“Her sister Jules has done this a few times,” Ian said, all humor gone from his face. “First time she did it, scared the piss out of me.”

“Dev.” Ryan handed him the small white trash can that was usually under the sink.

“Right. Thanks,” Dev said. “In case she needs to vomit. Happens with Ju—”

“Happens with Jules. Got it.” Niall shifted, trying to reach the paper towels.

“Here.” Ian pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket, ran it under the sink, then handed it to Niall.

“Thanks.” Niall dabbed her forehead, willing her to open her eyes. It didn't work. “Tell me something, since y'all seem to know so much, when this happens to her sisters, do they risk their sanity too?”

The trio wore matching expressions of surprise on their faces. Niall's heart sank. “Yeah, I didn't think so.”

“What makes you think her sanity is in danger?” Dev asked, tugging his cell from his pocket and glancing at the lit screen.

“Hannah warned me. It's why I was trying to break the connection when she started to convulse. She'd been connected too long. She told me she becomes the person sending her the vision when she's there. The more she visits, the harder it is for her to come back to herself.” Niall stared into her blanched face, regret eating a hole in his stomach. “Come back, Hannah. Come on, love. I need you to open your eyes.”

“Did you know about this part of her crift?” Dev asked his cousins. “Her sister's going to kill me if something happens to her.”

“She was only touching it a few seconds,” Ian argued, but there was no heat and no humor in his voice.

“St-stop talking about me like I'm not here,” Hannah said, weakly. Her eyes fluttered twice but didn't completely open. She licked her lips as if thirsty. “Mercy is one cray-cray woman . . . or not.”

“What does that mean?” Ian knelt beside Hannah. “What did you see?”

“I know who's not the killer. It's not Paulie. He's bleeding to death. I beat him with a baseball bat because he knows who I am. He's dying behind my . . . no. Her,
her
apartment building.” Tears leaked from Hannah's closed lids. “I'm Hannah Ha—Halloran. I'm Hannah.” She repeated her name several more times.

The men glanced at Niall in confusion.

“She's still connected. She's trying to break free.” Niall took her hand in his free one and squeezed gently. “Come back to me, Hannah. You're safe now. Hannah Halloran. Say it with me. All safe now.”

“All safe now,” she replied dutifully, then fell silent again.

“What's Paulie's last name?” Ryan asked, nodding to Ian who rose and pulled out his cell.

“Hurst.”

Ryan and Ian didn't answer but exited the bathroom, like men on a mission.

“Check the hospitals and morgues,” Dev said. He gestured with his chin. “Looks like she's coming around again. Welcome back, Hannah.”

Those golden eyes opened. Niall's heart actually ached in relief. “It's the fairy queen,” he said and got what he wanted. A smile. It was weak, brief but there.

“Oh, Niall, I'm so sorry. It is Ross. Mercy has Ross.”

*   *   *

N
IALL HELPED HER
move from the bathroom to the office. Hannah settled into the chair and watched with some dismay as he took up his post in the doorway. Ryan, Ian, and Dev squeezed into the room with her.

Carefully, she explained everything she'd seen. She told them about Paulie, the drugs, even the whistled tune. Everything she could remember.

“Nothing at the morgue,” Ryan reported.

“I have two John Does at Tidewater General,” Ian said, scratching the side of his chin. “Hannah, can you remember anything else about the apartment complex. You said she lived on the first floor. How many doors did she pass on the first floor before she opened hers?”

“One,” Hannah answered after a moment. “Well, from the street. From the alley side, she was right there.”

“Do you remember the name of the street? Did you see a sign, a business, anything that could tell us where to locate her?” Dev asked, tugging out his phone. He frowned at it. “Ian, go to the back door, Shelley's pulling up.”

Ian obeyed.

“I told you everything I remember.” Frustration made Hannah's eyes burn. “They walked two blocks from O'Reilly's Pub to get to the apartment. Mercy was looking at Ross most of the time, not where she was going. Her apartment was behind a store, that's why she didn't go in the first door. And she left Paulie's body beneath some boxes.”

“You don't remember what was on those boxes?” Dev asked again.

“No! I told you, they all said different things. Some were marked eggs, candy, wait!” Hannah shut her eyes and tried to remember the label on the egg carton. “Arctic Avenue. The address was number 55 Arctic Circle.”

“Avenue or Circle?” Niall's voice was tense.

“Uh, let me think again.” Hannah searched the fading vision for the label again. “Circle. Definitely Arctic Circle.

“Holy shit!” Niall strode into the office, all but pushing Ryan away from the filing cabinet. He yanked open a drawer, thumbed quickly through files, then pulled out a manila folder. “Paulie lives on Arctic Circle. Next to . . .”

His face blanched.

Hannah didn't think, just rushed to his side. “Who, Niall?”

“Hannah,” he said, his voice as hollow as his eyes. “You said something was wrong with Mercy's hands, remember?”

“Yes.” A pit opened in her belly.

“Michael lives next door to Paulie.”

“The busboy?” Hannah nearly laughed until she remembered his hands. The way his fingers curled around the gray tub were identical to the way Mercy's fingers curled around the bat. With the pinky permanently facing the wrong direction. “Oh God. Mercy is Michael.”

*   *   *

E
VERYTHING HAPPENED SO
fast. Hannah could do little more than watch as the men sprang into action around her. She wanted to go with them to Mercy's apartment but she was still shaky. And she didn't relish the idea of touching anything else that might send her into more of Mercy/Michael's horrible memories.

“You've done everything you can to help them,” Shelley said, putting her arm around Hannah's shoulders. “Now you need to let them do their jobs.”

“But Niall's not a cop,” Hannah argued, watching the men pull out of the parking lot in a caravan of speeding cars. “He owns a restaurant.”

“It's okay, Han. He's with Dev.” Shelley squeezed her shoulder. “Didn't you say when you met Niall he was in the Marines?”

“Yes.”

“Aren't the Marines tough?”

Hannah shrugged in defeat. “Yes. Okay, he wasn't just in the Marines. He was military police. But that was before. He doesn't carry a gun now.”

“Are you sure?”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course I'm sure. I've seen him naked.”

“No one carries a gun naked.” Shelley paused, then added with an arched eyebrow, “Well, not the kind that fires bullets anyway.”

“You are so wrong. Aren't you a mom now? Isn't there
some rule about moms not making sexual innuendos or something?” Hannah closed the back door and locked it.

“Most moms get that way through sex. I'm the exception. Though we're definitely trying the traditional route. A lot.”

Hannah covered her ears. “Eww. Stop. I don't want to know about you and Dev.”

Shelley laughed, then cocked her head as if listening to the wind. “Someone's coming in the back door.”

“How do you know that?” Hannah asked, hurrying to the door.

“The birds outside . . . Hannah, wait, don't open the door!”

Hannah had already flipped the lock. She froze when Michael eased it open.