Deadworld (33 page)

Chapter 55

Cold. Aching, biting cold. Did the dead feel cold? Jackie’s eyes blinked open, seeing little but foggy white nothingness, and groaned at the icy grip of the giant hand that clamped down on her body when she attempted to move.

“Hey, hon.” Laurel’s face immediately moved into view. “How do you feel?”

Laurel looked solid enough to touch. Jackie smiled, which even made her mouth hurt. “It’s fucking cold. My entire body hurts.”

She leaned down and kissed Jackie’s cheek, her lips the barest whisper against her skin. “I figured. I wasn’t quite sure if you’d make it or what would happen once you got here.”

Here. The other side. So Nick had managed to bring them across. “Am I dead?”

Laurel shook her head. “No, not yet, but I don’t think you can stay here long. The living aren’t supposed to be here.”

“How long?’

It was Nick’s voice, and Jackie realized he was sitting behind Laurel on a couch. Things looked oddly familiar. Jackie turned and noticed the massive slate fireplace of Nick’s living room. “This looks like Nick’s place.”

“A few hours maybe?” Laurel said with a shrug. “And, yes, hon. It’s Nick’s. We needed a safe place to come to.”

Jackie reached out tentatively and tried to touch Laurel’s arm but was disappointed to see her fingers pass right through, disappearing for a moment before reappearing on the other side. How creepy was that? She shivered. “Heat doesn’t work around here, I take it?”

“We’ll get you back as soon as we can,” Nick said.

Jackie stared at him for a moment, those depthless eyes surprisingly readable in the ghostly gray gloom. Laughter almost bubbled out of her mouth. “You don’t have a fucking clue, do you?”

He stared at her in silence and then finally offered up a grim smile. “No. This is all new to me. I’m hoping Laurel knows what she’s doing.”

“I’ll get us to Drake,” she replied, “but after that, it’s up to you.”

“We need to figure out how to get Jackie back first.”

Laurel’s answer was simple. “You have to take her back.”

“What?” He didn’t bother hiding the chagrin in his voice. “I don’t have the power to do that now. It took most of what I had to get us here.”

Laurel reached down and brushed a wisp of hair from Jackie’s face. “I know. You’ll have to get it back from Drake.”

Nick slumped back on the couch. “Ah. And I thought it would be something difficult.”

Jackie struggled to sit up. Every movement felt sluggish, as if she were moving through water. “I wanted to kill him anyway.”

“I don’t even know if he can be killed here,” Nick said. “The rules I knew don’t seem to apply anymore.”

“It’s not his blood you want, Nick. You want his power. He takes it from the spirits here, draining their souls away to give him strength to pass back and forth.”

“Okay, and if it’s not through blood, just how do I do that?”

Laurel looked at a loss. “I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out.”

Jackie shivered again. The cold was seeping deeper into her bones by the minute. If this kept up, she would hardly be able to move, let alone function in this place of the dead. “So, where’s he at?”

“At the moment, I’m not sure,” Laurel said. “But he keeps everyone locked away inside the Hancock building.”

Nick snorted. “Seriously? I hadn’t thought him so corporate.”

“That’s almost thirty miles from here,” Jackie lamented. “I can’t walk that far unless there’s a ghost version of that Porsche sitting in the garage.”

“No cars.” Laurel stood up, backing around the coffee table that sat in the middle of the
U
shape of the sofas. She looked at both of them. “I just will myself to where I want to go. It’s very easy here. Crossing over, not so much. I’m hoping it’s an effect of this place and doesn’t require actually being dead to work.”

Jackie clutched her arms tightly across her chest in an effort to ease the chill. Teleport? Her life force was crystallizing inside her body, thin shards of death forming in an unbreakable lattice. She could barely move, much less
will
herself somewhere. “I don’t know how to do that kind of shit, Laur.”

Nick leaned forward, hands resting on his knees. The aggravating, indifferent look he usually presented had disappeared. He looked . . . worried? Scared? God help them if he had lost his nerve now. “Maybe you should stay here while we get Drake. It’ll be safer for you here.”

I’m not dying alone in this place.
Jackie shook her head. “Screw that. If I’m going to be dead in a couple hours, I don’t really want to do that alone.”

“Then try to see if you can do it,” Laurel said. “If not, we’ll have to carry you there.”

Jackie forced herself to sit up straight. “I don’t want to hurt our chances of getting him.”

“It’s fine, hon. Just try something simple like moving over to the couch next to Nick. Picture yourself seated next to him, focus your thoughts on wanting to sit next to him, and visualize everything you can about it.”

Nick leaned back, one arm laid out across the back cushion. Jackie eyed the spot on the couch next to him, and the probable warmth that might be obtained snuggled into the crook of his body.
Okay, not so hard to think about.
Jackie closed her eyes and wished for that simple, comforting embrace. It might not help, but at least it would feel good, and far better than his mouth licking and sucking at the hole in her arm. It would be nice to die without that lingering image and sensation squirming in her gut.

“Jackie, relax.” Laurel’s voice was a soothing whisper of wind in her ear. “Quit squinting. It’s a mental thing, not physical.”

Jackie took a deep breath, the tightening muscles in her chest failing to provide much air, and let it out in a rush. “Relaxing. Sitting next to Nick. Warm body. Warm, fucking body.”

Jackie felt a nudge, a soft push from behind, as if the whole couch were tipping her toward Nick, and then his firm, depressingly cool arm came around her. Jackie put her hands out against him to push away, but the strength appeared to have dissipated from her body. He held her tightly, the big hand planted firmly on her hip, pulling her close.

“Holy shit,” she said in a rush. “I did it.”

Laurel clapped. “Awesome, hon.”

“Did you help her, Laurel?”

“Shut up, you dumb cowboy.” She huffed at him. “I gave her a little nudge, but that was it. You did it mostly on your own, babe.”

“Great,” Jackie said but felt no elation at the feat. Her body hurt too much to feel good about anything. “Now what? I’m still about as useful as a wet noodle.”

“I’m going to go check out the Hancock building and see where we need to go,” Laurel replied. “We need a safe place to arrive.”

Nick shifted against Jackie but kept his arm snugly against her body. “And what if they’re waiting? Maybe we should just all go now.”

Laurel shook her head. “No. I can handle getting away from Drake’s goons. He’s not back yet, but he might be soon, so we need to hurry.”

“You sure?” Nick sounded skeptical. Given what she had witnessed from Drake, Jackie felt the same way.

“Nick, you are as different here as you are in the living world. Trust me, if Drake was back, I’d know.” Laurel straightened up and closed her eyes. “See you soon. Be ready.”

Without a chance to even wish her luck, Laurel vanished from sight. A shiver rippled through Jackie’s body again, clenching her body into an even harder knot. “Shit.”

“She’ll be back,” Nick said. “She knows what she’s doing.”

“Any clue what you’re going to do when you get there?”

He was silent for a moment. “No.”

“You don’t give a dying girl much confidence.”

“We’ll get you back home, Jackie.”

Yeah, right.
She did not voice the opinion, and let herself sag against Nick’s chest, feeling a swell of tears push up behind her eyes. “This isn’t how I want to go.”

“You aren’t going to die in this place,” he said, his arm pulling her more snugly against him.

Tears welled up, and Jackie tried to blink them away. Somehow even blinking was painful. “You don’t know that. I can tell I’m dying here, Nick. Don’t placate me, you’ll piss me off.”

“All right,” he said, a mixture of sympathy and annoyance in his voice. “You’re dying, and I am truly sorry for that. This mess is mine, and I tried to keep you out of it, but that didn’t happen. I don’t know how the hell we’re getting out of here, but I’m going to do my damnedest to get you back and patched up.”

Jackie started to laugh and then groaned at the pain it induced. “Better, and don’t blame yourself. You warned me, but that didn’t really matter, now, did it?”

“No, I suppose not. You’re too pigheaded to do what’s best for you.”

“Fuck you. Am not.”

He chuckled. “It’s okay. It’s one of your more endearing qualities.”

“You’re an obstinate prick, too, you know.”

The sarcasm in his voice vanished. “See, perfect match. No wonder I like you.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“You don’t like yourself much, do you, Agent Rutledge?”

“Are we having a counseling session now? Because I’m not in the mood.”

“No, but you sell yourself short. There’s a lot about you to like, regardless of what’s happened to you. You think Laurel would love you otherwise?”

“Laurel was . . . is my friend. You’re supposed to love them despite their faults.”

“Exactly.”

“And your point is?”

“You’re a good person. You’re smart, attractive, and stand up for what you feel is right. You also are stubborn enough to chase down injustice, no matter the cost.” He paused, and it was quiet enough that Jackie could hear him swallow. He continued, much quieter. “All the women I’ve loved have been like that.”

“Thanks, I think.”
Did he just say he loves me? That can’t be right.
“I’ll admit, you’re not like any guy I’ve ever met before.” She wished the comfort of leaning into his body would provide more relief. She liked the feeling, but her body refused to relax. If anything, her shivering just kept getting worse.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Jackie put her arm around Nick’s waist, hugging herself to him. “It is. God, why can’t you vampires be warmer? This sucks so bad.”

His arm shifted behind her back, and Jackie felt herself roll over in his lap until she looked up into his face. “Look at me, Jackie.” He tapped a finger next to those radiant blue eyes. “Let me try to ease that pain a bit.”

“You going to hypnotize it away, Sheriff?”

He shrugged. “I can try. It hurts to see you like this. I want to try.”

Jackie’s eyes watered up again, and a tear trickled down her temple. “You stop this shivering, and I’ll kiss you right now.”

“Deal,” he said and brought his lean, strong hands down to cup her face. “Just keep looking up here, Jackie. Think calm, warm thoughts. Wrap yourself up in a blanket by the fire. Bask in the afternoon sun. Trust me. My warmth is yours.”

His face inched down toward hers as he spoke, and Jackie tried to think warm thoughts. A fire would have been a wonderful thing about now, if it would indeed have made a difference. She continued to look into the bottomless depths of those eyes, sensing that they were beginning to glow brighter the longer and deeper she stared. His hands did indeed feel slightly warmer—not much, but any warmth in this place was a blessing.

“I think it’s working,” she said, her voice a whisper from somewhere far away.

“Good,” Nick replied, his mouth an inch above hers. “I was looking forward to that kiss.”

Smart-ass.
The thought dwindled away beneath the warm caress of his mouth. It was not a kiss full of lust, but the soft, lingering brush of affection and care that did more to warm her then anything sexual. Jackie could hear his voice in her head, a quiet, repetitive chant to relax, breathe, and feel the warmth of his skin against her own.

The shivering began to subside. Her muscles unclenched to some degree, at least so that her body no longer screamed in pain with every movement. Sadly, and all too soon, the contact with his mouth ended.

Nick’s face still hovered above hers, the eyes glowing with luminous blue light. “Better?”

Jackie nodded. “I feel drunk.”

“I know. Can’t do much about that. Think you can move okay now?”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to. It feels good to lay here like this.”

Nick smiled down at her. “Wish you could, but we need to move.”

“Why?”

Laurel’s voice startled her. “Drake’s still on the other side, but he’s got his goons out in force. He must know something went awry with his plans. I can’t find a safe spot for us outside.”

Nick eased Jackie up into a sitting position next to him. “Meaning what? Inside?”

“Yes. We need to get by the front doors.”

“I have no idea what the inside of the Hancock building looks like, Laurel.”

She nodded. “I know, but you know what someone in there looks like.”

“Does it work like that? You can travel to a person as well as a place?”

“You can go where your mind wills, Nick. Different rules. Can you remember what your wife looked like?”

Jackie felt him stiffen against her, his voice a whisper. “What?”

“Your wife. Gwendolyn, I think? Can you still envision her strongly?”

Jackie looked over at Nick, who stared in silence at Laurel, his mouth a thin, pale line. She recalled the room up behind his office, filled with all the memorabilia from his old life and family, obsessive in its detail. Then there was the painting. Oh, yeah, he could envision her strongly. Question was, did he want to go there?

Jackie touched his arm. “Nick? You okay?”

He turned toward her in slow-motion, eyes glassy and distant. One shoulder offered a barely discernible shrug. “Yeah. Just not what I was expecting. I haven’t seen her in . . . a long time.” He turned back to Laurel. “You sure she’s there?”

“You think Drake would let them go before you got here? Isn’t the point here to make you suffer as much as possible?”

Nick’s back stiffened. “You make a good point, Ms. Carpenter. Thank you.”

Laurel smiled. “Get cold feet at the last moment, Sheriff, and I’ll kick your ass.”