Payable On Death: A Jax Rhodes Novel, Book One (The Jax Rhodes Series 1) (11 page)

"First, stop taking the Lord's name in vain. And second, stop calling me Tommy. Tommy is a child's name. You can clearly see I'm not a child."

"Fine." I went to cross my arms over my chest, stopping when I saw the bandage on my forearm and opted for hands on my hips instead. "You can't expect me to just walk away from everything."

"What everything? What family or friends are awaiting your return, outside of the bar and the shelter? You were so busy running from your past and the demons in your present you never made a life for yourself."

A harsh reality but he spoke the truth. The only mother I'd ever known wasn't my mother at all. And she could rot in her cell for all I cared after what she'd done. My real mother was dead. I could only assume my father was in Hell. No siblings, no real friends. Only associates. My only regret was leaving the women at the shelter and leaving Michelle shorthanded. And Mister Joe. Damn, I was going to miss him.

"So now what? I quit my job, quit volunteering? What if I run into Michelle sometime? How am I supposed to explain why I quit working there?"

"No one will remember you. It'll be harder to fully erase your memory from places you regularly visited. You'll become another person in the crowd, with one of those faces that reminds people of someone they're never able to place."

"It's impossible not to make connections. I'll have to go to the store, take the bus, go for a run. Human contact is inevitable. Will you erase me every time I meet someone new?"

My mind drifted to Dane once again. Would Thomas erase me from his mind as well? Was it even possible? The idea of him not remembering me, the way it felt when our lips touched for the first time, the pain I felt over his betrayal, hurt worst of all. I didn't want to be the only one with those memories.

"Anonymity is all the rage in today's society. Online banking, online shopping, online dating. I could go on. Those connections only happen if you seek them out. The world today is far more nuclear thinking, a single cell focused only on itself instead of reproducing, joining with other cells to make a larger, more productive organism. For all your progress and technological advancements, you've actually regressed as a people.

“Easier doesn't always mean better. Life was never meant to be easy, yours least of all. This is only the first of many challenges before you. I dare say it won't be the hardest decision you'll make as a hunter. Letting go of the people and things we love is difficult, realizing you need to do it even more so, but it needs to be done. Holding on to that life, on to Michelle and the women you cared for at the shelter, is selfish and would only put them in more danger."

I wasn't sure what was worse, knowing that Jacqueline Lilith Rhodes no longer existed or that no one really knew who she was to begin with. Hell, I hardly knew who she was. All that remained was Jax the hunter. And that life wasn't safe for me, let alone anyone else.

With a resigned sigh, I held out my hand, waiting for Thomas to give me the key to my new place. An empty slot marked apartment nine as mine. There'd never be a last name scribbled on a piece of paper and slid behind the plastic cover to notify visitors which buzzer to press to be let in. No attachments meant no casualties. I could live with that. I turned the key, opening the security door to the complex and my new life.

Training began once
the last of the scabs on my tattoos were gone. I couldn't wait for the physical activity. I'd spent far too much time cooped up in my apartment. Every morning, Thomas brought the local papers and turned on the news. We scoured the police blotters and crime reports while listening to the anchors read their top stories of the morning, tracking any unusual uptick in activity that might lead us to more demons.

I picked a side. The wrong one according to the Devil and that meant plans changed. I was number one on the demon's most wanted list. Number two on that list was the Spear of Destiny.

Thomas retrieved all of my clothes and the few belongings I had worth keeping from my old place, my old life, and when we weren't looking for demon signs, I unpacked. It didn't take long—there wasn't much. He offered to fully furnish the apartment. I refused. It had the essentials and that was all I needed. It wasn't like I'd be hosting any parties or anything.

When I shuffled out of my bedroom in search of coffee to find my gym bag on the kitchen table instead of papers, I almost did a back flip. Wide awake without the caffeine, I snatched the bag and went back to my room to change. I'd been climbing the walls, feeling like a caged animal. I couldn't wait to get to the gym and work out.

Dressed in my favorite cut off sweats, white racer-back tank, and black chucks, I bounced on my feet by the front door waiting for Thomas. He grabbed the keys off the counter, smiling, and followed me out to the car.

Something about his smile said he'd enjoy the workout more than I would. That had this gym rat more than a little concerned.

Thomas pulled the car around, stopping curbside in front of the building where I waited. He popped the trunk, so I walked to the back and tossed my gym bag inside. Just before I shut the lid, I caught movement out of my peripheral. I leaned in, pretending to get something out of my bag and turned to my left. I caught a glimpse of a leather duster before it turned the corner and disappeared.

Dane.

It had to be. This was the second time I'd caught him watching me. He'd been on surveillance since I got in the car with Thomas. I was sure of it. If I'd seen him twice, it was practically guaranteed he'd been following me. Too bad for him I hadn't left the apartment. Must have made for one boring stakeout. It begged the question—why was he watching me? Did he make another deal—turn me over to the Devil to even his scorecard between Heaven and Hell? Only one way to find out.

At the next opportunity, Dane and I needed to have a little chat.

I shut the trunk, maybe a little too hard, adrenaline pumping in my veins at the prospect of flipping the tables on Dane and whatever scheme he was up to.

"You alright?" Thomas was at the rear of the car, almost right next to me.

"Jes–" I stopped myself. I tried my best not to say the J word around him. "You startled me." Which was putting it mildly. I hadn't even heard him get out of the car I'd been so lost in my thoughts about Dane.

I'd have to do better than that when facing a demon. I couldn't afford to be distracted. I needed to compartmentalize, multitask, and think on my feet. One stupid guy could not be my primary focus. No matter how hot or how dangerous. There were other things out there worse than Dane McDonough.

"I didn't mean to startle you; however, this is a good example of how you need to stay sharp. You can't afford to get caught off guard. What if I was an upper-level demon?" Mirroring my own thoughts, Thomas reached for me, his hands sliding up and down my arms slowly, the way you'd console a loved one. "Come on, you're getting rusty. You've been cooped up too long healing from your epic tattoo appointment. If I'd have known what you were up to, I'd have said no." His hands caressed my arms once more before slipping into my own and giving them a squeeze.

"That's why I didn't tell you. If you were so curious to know what we were doing, why didn't you just come back and check?" I pulled away, uncomfortable with the way Thomas felt about me. With the way I was starting to feel about him– conflicted.

I shook it off. I hadn't had any contact with anyone besides Thomas. It wasn't uncommon to feel attracted or believe you had feelings for someone when you were around each other twenty-four/seven. I chalked it up to close proximity and nothing more. I already had one guy addling my brain. I definitely didn't need another.

"And risk the wrath of Magdalena? She's worse than a seventh level demon when she's upset." Thomas turned his attention to the corner where Dane slipped from my view as if he sensed he'd been there watching us.

When he turned back, his expression confirmed my suspicions. Still, he said nothing about the Sin Eater lurking around. "Let's go, we've got a lot of work to do."

After another awkward car ride, we arrived at the gym. Still awestruck by the space, I threw my bag by the bench where Thomas sat down and revealed my destiny against his brother's wishes. I walked around the room, taking in all the different apparatus I hadn't noticed before. Rings hung from the ceiling, there was a vault, pummel horse, and uneven bars in addition to the other equipment I'd inventoried on my first visit.

"Am I trying out for the U. S. Olympic gymnastics team or am I fighting demons?" I pushed myself up on the balance beam, swinging one leg and then the other over to a sitting position.

"You'll need more than just boxing to become a hunter. Everything you see in here will help you hone the necessary skills to fight and on occasion flee from your enemies."

"Flee? That sounds an awful lot like quitting, Thomas."

"Fight or flight? That instinct is just as important as anything else we'll train you on. Knowing when to run, knowing when you're outnumbered and the situation is out of control, is living to fight another day. You're no good to us dead, remember?" Joseph stepped out of the shadows in the far corner, keeping a watchful eye on his brother. He wasn't here just to help train me. There was an underlying message in that little speech for Thomas, too.

"You will master parkour, giving you every opportunity to out-maneuver your opponent. The art of movement displacement, free-running, will become second nature, as simple as breathing." Joseph walked around the gym, waving at each piece of equipment to emphasize his point.

Apparently, someone was back on the team and had appointed himself captain.

Thomas stood, ushering his brother aside, his movements stiff and controlled. The conversation, hushed and heated, led me to believe neither of them were pleased with the latest turn of events. Exasperated, Joseph threw up his hands declaring his brother brought it on himself for failing to report in and divulging too much information, forcing him to play the role of babysitter. Joseph compared his current path to those of the fallen, warning him of the dangers. Thomas broke protocol, he answered to a higher authority, and he'd chosen to ignore the rest of his responsibilities to spend time with me. As interesting as their conversation was, I forced myself to stop eavesdropping. The least I could do was give him the illusion of privacy.

I stood up on the balance beam with wobbly legs. It'd been awhile since I'd been on one, probably phys. ed. in middle school, but it didn't take long for it to come back. I bent sideways until one palm lay flat on the beam, pushing down to throw my weight over. My other hand came down and I continued the momentum with my legs up into a handstand. I held the position for a minute, trying to keep my posture pin straight before the pressure in my wrists became uncomfortable. Lowering my legs, I pushed off in a side dismount with a couple hops on the landing. Not anywhere close to perfect; still, not bad for a decade off the beam.

Joseph watched from the other side of the room. "We've got a lot of work to do."

Finished with his brother, Joseph zeroed his attention in on me. We moved from the balance beam to the bars. After my umpteenth attempt to transition from the lower bar up to the high bar, my arms felt like rubber and I was positive I'd cracked my tailbone from landing on my ass so many times. When he called me an undisciplined and untrainable mess, ordering me to quit and declaring me unfit to bear the mark, I'd just about had enough. Quitting sounded amazing. So did a shower.

Rather than give him the satisfaction of breaking me, I picked myself up off the mat and jumped for the bar again, swinging once before looping my legs through my arms up and over the bar propelling myself forward. The muscles in my arms and shoulders burned like liquid fire coursed through my body. When my palms hit the top bar, I gripped it, holding on as if my life and not just my pride depended on it and crossed hand over hand until I faced the lower bar again. Satisfied I proved my point, that I wasn't a quitter, that I was stronger than my fallen kin, I dropped, landing securely on my feet.

"Enough, Joseph. Give her a break. She's taken your best without complaint and didn't give in. She's already exceeded the others’ marks on their first day." Thomas preened, his chest puffed out as he handed me a towel and bottle of water.

I wanted to tell him his confidence was misplaced, that it had been pride, one of the deadly sins, not skill that had gotten me through Joseph's brutal training. I couldn't get through the day without committing one of the seven deadly sins. But I didn't burst his bubble, letting him have his small victory over his brother.

"And look where they all ended up. Dead and buried." Joseph might as well have pulled a pin from his pocket and popped his brother's balloon.

Thomas immediately deflated, clearly reflecting on their past failures and mentally cataloging their losses. Joseph moved to stand by his brother, resting a consoling hand on his shoulder. Thomas nodded before straightening his spine, standing at full height, his resolve renewed with the smallest gesture from his hardened sibling. I imagined this pattern of behavior paralleled the way they were as mortal men, with Joseph spending his life and afterlife leading the way for his younger brother.

"We'll call it a day. Take her home, get her cleaned up and something to eat." The elder looked at me, really looked at me for the first time, and finally saw something he approved of. With a nod in my direction he continued, "Get some rest. We'll pick up bright and early tomorrow morning."

I collapsed on my bed a couple hours later, barely managing to keep my eyes open through a shower and then dinner.