Further Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman (28 page)

Jamie held up a hand. “Doona fash yerself, lass. I’ll be taking the boy.”

As the boy looked up, his wide grin cracked the dried dirt on his cheeks. “Thank you, my lord.”

Jamie winced. “Mr. Munro, it is. We’ll have none of that lordy talk aboot here. Welcome to America.” He extended a hand, which the boy timidly accepted. “What is yer name, lad?”

“George Peeper, sir.”

“Father.” Virginia tugged at the sleeve of his blue serge coat. “Can we afford any more?”

Jamie Munro’s eyes widened and he blinked at his daughter. “More? Just an hour ago, ye upbraided me aboot the evils of purchasing people, and now ye want more? ’Tis no’ like buying ribbons for yer bonny red hair.”

“I know, but this is important.” She leaned toward him. “Do you see the tall man in lavender silk?”

Jamie’s nose wrinkled. “Aye. Who could miss him?”

“Well, he wanted to purchase me—”

“
What?
”

She pressed the palms of her hands against her father’s broad chest as he moved to confront the dandy. “ ’Twas a misunderstanding. Please.”

His blue eyes glittering with anger, Jamie clenched his fists. “Let me punch him for you, lass.”

“No, listen to me. I fear he means to buy one of those ladies for . . . immoral purposes.”

Jamie frowned at her. “And what would ye be knowing of a man’s immoral purposes?”

“Father, I grew up on a farm. I can make certain deductions, and I know from the way he looked at me, the man is not looking for someone to scrub his pots.”

“What can I do aboot it?”

“If he decides he wants one, you could outbid him.”

“He would just buy another, Ginny. I canna be buying the whole ship. I can scarcely afford this one here.”

She bit her lip, considering. “You could buy one more if Aunt Mary pays for George. She can afford it much more than we.”

“Nay.” Jamie shook his head. “I willna have my sister paying. This is the least I can do to help Mary before we leave. Besides, I seriously doubt I could outbid the dandy even once. Look at the rich way he’s dressed, though I havena stet clue why a man would spend good coin to look like that.”

The ship rocked suddenly, and Virginia held fast to her father’s arm. A breeze wafted past her, carrying the scent of unwashed bodies. She wrinkled her nose. She should have displayed the foresight to bring a scented handkerchief, though not as overpowering as the one sported by the lavender popinjay.

Having completed his leisurely perusal of the women, Mr. Stanton was now conversing quietly with a young boy.

“Look, Father, that boy is so young to be all alone. He cannot be more than ten.”

“Aye,” Jamie replied. “We can only hope a good family will be taking him in.”

“How much for the boy?” Mr. Stanton demanded in a loud voice.

The captain answered, “You’ll be thinking twice before taking that one. He’s an expensive little wretch.”

Mr. Stanton lowered his voice. “Why is that?”

“I’ll be needing payment for his passage
and
his mother’s. The silly tart died on the voyage, so the boy owes you fourteen years of labor.”

The boy swung around and shook a fist at the captain. “Me mum was not a tart, ye bloody old bugger!”

The captain yelled back, “And he has a foul mouth, as you can see. You’ll be taking the strap to him before the day is out.”

Virginia squeezed her father’s arm. “The boy is responsible for his mother’s debt?”

“Aye.” Jamie nodded. “ ’Tis how it works.”

Mr. Stanton adjusted the lace on his sleeves. “I have a fancy to be extravagant today. Name your price.”

“At least the poor boy will have a roof over his head and food to eat.” Virginia grimaced. “I only hope the dandy will not dress him in lavender silk.”

Jamie Munro frowned. “Oh, dear.”

“What is it, Father?”

“Ye say the man was interested in you, Ginny?”

“Aye, he seemed to like me in his own horrid way.”

“Hmm. Perhaps the lad will be all right. At any rate, ’tis too late now. Let me pay for George, and we’ll be on our way.”

An Excerpt from

by Jaime Rush

Enter the world of the Offspring with this latest novella in Jaime Rush’s fabulous paranormal series.

W
hen Shea Baker pulled into her driveway, the sight of Darius’s black coupe in front of her little rented house annoyed her. That it wasn’t Greer’s Jeep, and that she was disappointed it wasn’t, annoyed the hell out of her.

Darius pulled out his partially dismantled wheelchair from inside the car and put it together within a few seconds. His slide from the driver’s seat into his wheelchair was so practiced it was almost fluid. He waved, oblivious to her frown, and wheeled over to her truck. “As pale as you looked after hearing what Tucker, Del, and I went through, I thought you’d go right home.” He wore his dark blond hair in a James Dean style, his waves gelled to stand up.

She
had
been freaked. Two men trying to kill them, men who would kill them all if they knew about their existence. She yanked her baseball cap lower on her head, a nervous habit. “I had a couple of jobs to check on. What brings you by?” She hoped it was something quick he could tell her right there and leave.

“Tucker kicked me out. I think he feels threatened by me, because I had to take charge. I saved the day, and he won’t even admit it.”

None of the guys were comfortable with Darius. His mercurial mood shifts and oversized ego were irritating, but the shadows in his eyes hinted at an affinity for violence. In the two years he’d lived with them, though, he’d mostly kept to himself. She’d had no problem with him because he remained aloof, never revealing his emotions, even when he talked about the car accident that had taken his mobility. Unfortunately, when he thought she was reaching out to him, that aloofness had changed to romantic interest.

“Sounded like you went off the rails.” She crossed her arms in front of her. “Look, if you’re here to get me on your side, I won’t—”

“I’d never ask you to do that.” His upper lip lifted in a sneer. “I know you’re loyal only to Tucker.”

She narrowed her eyes, her body stiffening. “Tuck’s like a big brother to me. He gave me a home when I was on the streets, told me why I have extraordinary powers.” That she’d inherited DNA from another dimension was crazy-wild, but it made as much sense as, say, being able to move objects with her mind. “I’d take his side over anyone’s.”

“Wish someone would feel that kind of loyalty to me,” Darius muttered under his breath, making her wonder if he was trying to elicit her sympathy. “I get that you’re brotherly/sisterly.” He let those words settle for a second. “But something happened with you and Greer, didn’t it? What did he do, grope you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Greer would never do something like that.”

“Something happened, because all of a sudden the way you looked at each other changed. Like he was way interested in you, and you were way uncomfortable around him. Then you sat all close to me, and I know you felt the same electricity I did.”

She shook her head, sending her curly ponytail swinging over her shoulder. “There was no electricity. Greer and I had a . . . disagreement. I needed to put some space between us, but when you live in a house with four other people, there isn’t a lot of room. When I sat next to you, I was just moving away from him.”

Darius’s shoulders, wide and muscular, stiffened. “You might think that, Shea. You might even believe it. But someday you’re going to realize you want me. And when you do, I want you to know I can satisfy you. When I’m in Darkness, I’m a whole man.” That dark glint in his eyes hinted at his arrogance. “I’m capable of anything.”

Those words shivered through her, but not in the way he’d intended. In that moment, she knew somehow that he
was
capable of anything. Darius might be confined to a wheelchair, but only a fool would underestimate him, and she was no fool. Especially where Darkness was concerned. The guys possessed it, yet didn’t know exactly what it was. All they knew was that they’d probably inherited it, along with the DNA that gave them extraordinary powers, from the men who’d gotten their mothers pregnant. It allowed them to Become something far from human.

“Please, Darius, don’t talk to me about that kind of thing. I’m not interested in having sex with anyone.”

The corner of his mouth twisted cruelly. “Don’t you like sex? Maybe you’ve never been with someone who could do it well.”

For a long time the thought of sex had coated her in shame and disgust. Until that little incident with Greer, when she’d had a totally different—and surprising—reaction.

“Look, I’m sorry Tuck kicked you out, but I don’t have a guest bedroom.”

“I’ll sleep on the couch. You won’t even know I’m here.” His face transformed from darkly sexual to a happy little boy’s. “I don’t have any other place to stay,” he added, building his case. “You just said how grateful you are to Tuck for taking you in. I’m only asking for the same thing.”

Damn, he had her. As much as she wanted to squash her feelings, some things did reach right under her shields. And some people . . . like Greer. Now, Darius’s manipulation did. “All right,” she spat out, feeling pinned.

Her phone rang from where she’d left it inside her truck.

“Thanks, Shea,” Darius said, wheeling to his car and popping the trunk. “You’re a doll.”

She got into her truck, grabbing up the phone and eyeing the screen. Greer. She’d been trying to avoid him since moving out three months before. But with the weirdness going on lately, she needed to stay in the loop.

“Hey,” she answered. “What’s up?”

“Tuck and Darius had it out a while ago. Darius has this idea about being the alpha male, which is just stupid, and Tuck kicked him out. I wanted to let you know in case he shows up on your doorstep pulling his ‘poor me’ act.”

“Too late,” she said in a singsong voice. “Act pulled—very well, I might add. He’s staying for a few days.”

“Bad idea.” Always the protective one. He made no apologies for it either.

She watched Darius lift his suitcase onto his lap and wheel toward the ramp he’d installed for wheelchair access to her front door. “Well, what was I supposed to do, turn him away? I don’t like it either.”

“I’m coming over.”

“There’s no need . . .” She looked at the screen, blinking to indicate he’d ended the call. “. . . to come over,” she finished anyway.

She got out, feeling like her feet weighed fifty pounds each, and trudged to the door. All she wanted was to be alone, a quiet evening trimming her bonsai to clear her mind.

There would be no mind-clearing tonight. There’d be friction between Greer and Darius, just like there had been before she’d moved out. Tuck had eased her into the reality of Darkness, he and Greer morphing into black beasts only after she’d accepted the idea. Tuck told her it also made them fiercely, and insanely, territorial about their so-called mates. She hadn’t thought twice about that until Darius and Greer both took a different kind of liking to her. She was afraid they’d tear each other’s throats out, and she wasn’t either of their mates.

“Two days,” she said, unlocking her front door. “I like living on my own. Being alone.” Most of the time. It was strange, but she’d sit at her table in the mornings having coffee (not as strong as Greer’s k iller brew) and be happy about being alone. Then she’d get hit with a wave of sadness about being alone.

See how messed up you are.

“You might like having me around,” he said. “If that guy who’s been creeping around makes an appearance, I’ll kick his ass.”

“Well, he’s too much of a coward to knock on the door.” She didn’t want to think about her stalker. He hadn’t left any of his icky letters or “gifts” in a few days.

She figured out where Darius could stash his suitcases and was hunting down extra sheets and a blanket when the doorbell rang. Before she could even set the extra pillow down to answer, she heard Darius’s voice: “Well, look who’s here. What a nice surprise.”

Not by the tone in his voice. Damn, this was so not cool having them both here. They’d been like snarling dogs the day everyone had helped her move in here. She hadn’t had them over since.

She walked out holding the pillow to her chest like a shield. Greer’s eyes went right to her, giving her a clear
Is everything all right?
look.

She wasn’t in danger. That’s as far as she’d commit.

Greer closed the door and sauntered in, as though he always stopped by. “Thought I’d check in on you. After what happened, figured you might be on edge.” There he went again, sinking her into the depths of his eyes. They were rimmed in gray, brown in the middle, the most unusual eyes she’d ever seen. And they were assessing her.

“She’s fine,” Darius answered as she opened her mouth. “I’m staying here for a couple of days, which will work out nicely . . . in case she’s on edge.” His unspoken
So you can go now
was clear.

Greer moved closer to her, putting himself physically between her and Darius. He was a damned wall of a man, too, way tall, wide shoulders, and just big. He purposely blocked Darius’s view of her.

She’d done this, sparked them into hostile territory. Which was laughable, considering what she looked like: baggy pants and shirt, cap over her head, no makeup. She’d done everything she could for the last six years to squash every bit of her femininity. Her sexuality. Then Greer had blown that to bits.

He hadn’t knocked, just barged into the bathroom, a towel loosely held in front of his naked body. She was drying her hair and suddenly he was standing there gaping at her.

“Jesus, Shea, you’re beautiful,” he’d said, obviously in shock.

She couldn’t move, spellbound herself, which was ridiculous because she wasn’t interested in anyone sexually. But there stood six feet four of olive-skinned Apache with muscled thighs and a scant bit of towel covering him. And the way he’d said those words, with his typical passion, and his looking at her like she
was
beautiful and he wanted her, woke up something inside her.