The Reunited

SEVENTEEN





JOSS waited for her the next day.

She didn’t come.

He wasn’t surprised, but he sure as hell was disappointed.

Still, it wasn’t his only reason for being at the Waffle House that day.

Jones had come through with the first “victim” . . . the telepath. They were meeting to discuss how things were going to happen. Of course, they were meeting after Joss had parked his stolen car at a gym, gone for a walk, climbed into a bus, and then made his way over here.

Sometime during the previous night, the SUV had been bugged.

He’d discovered that almost right away.

Jones had indeed given him some more useful toys, but Joss could have found the bug on the car in the dark with his hands tied. Not to mention that it had all but vibrated and called his name, it was so toxic.

Would have been nice to see Dru that morning. Cleared his head. His mind. Even as it clouded it. But he had to remember what he was here for. Because if he didn’t keep his focus on the job, he was f*cked and so were a lot of other people. He’d been waiting for her for too long. He’d live through this—he’d get through this. He hadn’t waited this long to find her only to screw himself over by getting lazy or crazy.

Still, as he headed across the road, he strengthened that mental connection, found himself lodged quite firmly in her mind.

Hello, duchess.

She was mostly still asleep and she welcomed him with a startled sigh, then a smile. Joss . . .

You didn’t meet me.

He wished he could actually be wherever she was. Wondered if he could picture himself there . . . and then he remembered. He’d seen the place. In that figment of a dream.

Building it in his mind, he kept a sliver of his focus on his surroundings and tried to imagine himself right there, mentally, with her. Tried to slide right into her dreams.

She was slowly climbing into wakefulness and he couldn’t join her in her dreams, but her shields were lower now and he found himself with a deeper connection than he’d had before. In her mind, able to feel her surprise. Her pleasure. And that deep, innate fear. He tried to look deeper for that, but already Dru was scrambling to jerk up her shields there, and he didn’t want to cause the pain that he knew he’d cause with his inept fumbling if he pried.

She’d tell him. Sooner or later.

* * *

SHE’D dreamed of him.

And she came awake biting her lip to keep from calling out his name.

Even in her dreams she couldn’t fully let her guard down, and it was that self-preservation alone that kept her from f*cking herself over as he settled himself rather determinedly into her thoughts. Like he’d opened the door to her room, it seemed, and just walked right in, brash as you please.

What are you doing? she thought, rolling onto her stomach and pressing her face into the pillow.

Saying good morning. Do you sleep naked?

Dru groaned. No.

Damn. Why not? I’d like to think of you naked in bed. Then his thoughts darkened. Is your limpdick fiancé with you?

No, she thought, all but ready to cry. If only Patrick had a limp dick, her life would be easier.

Baby girl, what’s wrong? Joss’s voice inside her mind was like black velvet, stroking against the ache of her heart and soul. Why are you so sad? If it’s him, just leave him. Hell, just leave him anyway. You should be with me . . . and I think you already know that.

Hysterically, she laughed. If only life were so simple, Joss.

He sighed. And it startled her that she could feel it. She could feel him, feel that he was outside somewhere. If she concentrated, she could feel the cool, damp air against his skin, almost as clearly as she felt his frustration, his want, his need . . . and something more.

Something that warmed her to her very core, even as it broke her heart.

Love.

This man who didn’t even truly know her loved her.

I do know you, he murmured into her mind, and she shivered. She’d have to be careful. He picked up on way too much, even when she thought she had shielded herself good and tight. I know what I need to know and everything I don’t know . . . I want to spend the rest of my life learning it. Are you okay with that?

Tears squeezed out from under her lashes. Yes. If she lived through this, yes, she’d be just fine with that.

Joss, I’m in a mess right now, she hedged. She suspected she couldn’t give him an opening, though. He’d barrel through any perceived weakness and stay until she was safe . . .

Yeah. He sighed. So am I. I’ve got a . . . complicated job. We’ll have a lot to talk about, but you and I, we’re going to be together. Do me a favor . . . imagine me kissing you good morning . . .

* * *

JOSS blew out a breath before he headed into the Waffle House.

His throat ached.

It hadn’t been quite the kiss he’d been thinking it would be. It was bittersweet, heartrending.

And he was tempted to say screw everything, just so he could go to her. Rescue her.

But the last time he’d barreled in, he’d ended up dead.

Plus, he had people depending on him, and she was in some kind of mess herself. He needed to know more about it before he did a damn thing, because he’d learned a few things this time around.

Barreling in led to bad, bad shit.

He was going to know what was going on before he did a damn thing.

And he’d wrap up this mess first. He had to think with his head right now . . . not with his heart. Not with his dick.

As he slid into the booth next to the woman, Taylor barely glanced up from the menu. “I think you want to see me keel over dead from a heart attack. Look at this menu.”

“F*ck off,” Joss snapped.

Taylor lifted his head, cocked a brow.

He just stared back.

Next to him, the woman shifted and lifted her hands to her head. “This is going to be a lot of fun. Jones . . . he’s not stable enough to be doing this.”

Slanting her a look, Joss curled his lip. “No. I’m not. But unfortunately, I’m the only monkey in this circus who knows this particular act.” He studied her face . . . Vaughnne. Yeah, they’d met a few times.

Critically, he looked her over, tried to see her the way Whitmore would see her. Cute. Heart-shaped face with creamy, light brown skin. A smattering of freckles across her nose . . . kind of unusual, he decided. Her hair was shoulder-length and crazy with curls. She looked like the girl next door. She’d be a striking contract next to Nalini. “Hi, Vaughnne. Long time, no see.”

“Not long enough,” she muttered. “Jones, who did you pair him with, the local psycho?”

“Shut up,” Joss snapped.

“Touchy, touchy.” She smirked at him.

“Vaughnne,” Jones said, his voice flat. “Back off.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it. “Whatever. I’m just here for the ride, right?”

“So I take it Taylor’s filled you in.”

“I didn’t need to.” Jones said when Vaughnne fell silent.

Joss slid him a narrow look.

Taylor lifted a cup of coffee to his lips and took a hefty drink. “She requested time off two months ago. Personal reasons. And she’s been down here ever since. Yesterday, she showed up at my hotel and told me she wanted in on the operation.”

“And how do you know about it?” Joss asked, studying Vaughnne’s profile as she stared at the table.

Her answer was a sly little whisper in the back of his mind, and as she looked at him, a smug little grin tugged at the corners of her mouth.

I’m psychic, genius . . . how do you think?

The problem was . . . she was lying. About something.

She slanted a look up at him and her golden eyes narrowed. He felt a none-too-subtle shove and then her voice, loud as a cannon, echoing in his mind. Stay out of my head, Crawford . . . or I’ll turn your brain into a sieve.

He snorted. “Like you could.”

“You won’t always have that talent inside you, hotshot,” she murmured.

“Thank God for that.” Then he shut up, because the waitress was heading their way, and damn it, he needed some caffeine.

* * *

SHE had a smile on her lips as she stepped out of the shower.

Granted, it had been weird to wake up with dreams of him in her mind, but really . . . was it that bad?

“You look happy, darling.”

At the sound of Patrick’s voice, Dru jerked up the shields in her mind.

At the same time, she fought to keep the smile on her face. “Patrick! Oh, you startled me!”

He sat on the edge of her bed, and nausea churned in her belly as she saw that he’d taken off his suit jacket. It was draped over the chair in the sitting area. And his shoes and socks.

Swallowing, she clutched the towel around her tighter. She couldn’t keep doing this.

“Come here, Ella.”

* * *

“BE ready at four.”

Numb, Dru just lay there.

Once he was gone, she was going to crawl back into the shower. If she thought it might help, she’d soak herself in a vat of bleach.

She wouldn’t be clean, though. She didn’t know if she’d ever feel clean again.

“Ella, did you hear me?”

Swallowing, she made herself answer, “Of course, Patrick. Where are we dining tonight?”

He frowned at her. “You’re rather tiresome today.”

I already realized that, she thought dully. She ached inside. She’d tried to find . . . something . . . to take control so he wasn’t using her the way he had that first time, but she . . . hell. She couldn’t. All she had been able to do was think about Joss. The way he’d felt as he whispered inside her mind. The way she knew he loved her, even though he didn’t really know her.

How can he love me?

And she’d worked on keeping up her shields, solid and thick, so Joss wouldn’t realize what was happening, so he wouldn’t pick up on anything. Not on the pain, not on the shame. None of it.

“I don’t know what is wrong with you, but you need to snap out of it. There’s a party tonight, at my house, for some business acquaintances. You’ll be there, and you’ll be there not looking like death,” Patrick said. He came to stand at her side, and when she didn’t sit up, he bent over her and pushed his hand into her hair, fisting it and pulling until she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out. And still he pulled.

Her eyes watered from the pain but she refused to make a sound. He could rip her hair out by the roots before she’d give him that pleasure.

A cold chill raced down her spine and a face flashed through her mind.

Are you such a silly girl that you don’t realize what I could do to you? I could kill you. As easy as that and not a soul would say a word . . .

Cold, cruel eyes. A face not like Patrick’s, but the eyes . . . they were his.

Don’t let him take you away from me . . .

She shoved the memories away and continued to stare at the man before her.

“I’ll be ready at four,” she said coolly. She’d get through this. Get through this. Get it done. See the damn job through and hope she just had a chance at what life seemed to be offering her.

His house. They were going to his house. She’d never found anything there before, but maybe . . . just maybe there would be something, or somebody—the final connection.

All she needed was the right connection.

* * *

ALL day, something had felt off.

Joss had tried a couple of times to reach out to Dru, but never once had he been able to. Not once. Distant and cool, she’d rebuffed him every time.

The one time she actually acknowledged him, she was . . . quiet. Sad and quiet. I’m having a bit of a rough day. I need some time alone, Joss.

Time alone. Okay. He could understand that. Even if he hated it. Even if it drove him crazy.

Wasn’t like he didn’t have something he needed to be focused on. Somebody . . .

Two somebodies, actually. That f*cker, Whitmore, and Vaughnne. Currently, he was texting Whitmore, and Vaughnne was sitting across from him, gorging on Thai food like she hadn’t a care in the world.

I think I got lucky on the first shipment. Perfect piece.

As Joss sent the text, Vaughnne snagged a spring roll from the plate between them.

Until they knew how Whitmore wanted to go from here, they were playing it cool.

Joss was ready to wait a few hours, or even a day or two.

His own food sat in front of him, barely touched. Distracted, wishing he could talk to Dru, but knowing he needed to give her time, he pushed the rice on his plate around.

“You look thrilled to be here,” Vaughnne said. “Hell, I’d almost think you were the one getting ready to play little slave girl.”

Joss just grunted.

What was up with Dru?

“You know, you used to be a little more chatty than this.”

Shooting Vaughnne a dark look, he said, “I’ll get chatty when there’s something to chat about.”

“Fine. Grouchy.” She lapsed into silence, focusing on her food.

By the time she’d finished clearing her plate and the rest of the spring rolls, Joss had a text from Whitmore.

You’re fast. Is it secured?

No. Still in the process of taking possession, but it’s prime. Do you have the facilities ready?

Yes. If you can take possession, we can put the piece into place today. I’ll have my team meet you.

Good deal.

Joss looked up and met her gaze. “This could be a rough few weeks for you.”

Vaughnne gave him a sharp-edged smile. “No problem. I’ve been spinning my wheels, waiting for this for a long time, Crawford.”

There was something in her eyes, he thought. Yeah. Rage. A particular kind of rage.

“This is personal for you,” he said quietly.

She just stared at him, her golden eyes blank. “It doesn’t matter if it is or isn’t. I can do my job. That’s all that counts. Besides . . .” She shrugged and said, “I’m the best person to put in first. Jones is still trolling for a decent fit for the Latina. There are a couple, but one has a gift like Desiree’s and that’s a bad match. There’s got to be ghosts like mad wherever this is. The other is an empath. Even with shielding, it would be too much.”

“What about Nalini?”

“Ahhh . . .” Vaughnne smiled. “Our resident psycho. She’s the closest thing to crazy we’ve got, you know. No, she can’t go in until the last minute. The longer she’s in, the closer she’ll come to snapping. And she’ll hurt people when she does . . . it may not be the bad guys, either.”

Joss wanted to know more about that.

“No matter how we look at it, I’m the best match. If things go bad, I can call for help. Jones is going to be expecting me to check in on a regular basis and if even an hour goes by when he doesn’t hear from me, I can expect the calvary, right?” But before he could respond, there was another text.

If all goes well, I’d like you to join me at my place for a party. You could bring a few pictures of the shipment. I’ll go view it tomorrow myself, but I’d like to get an idea of just how well you work.

Joss grimaced. “He wants me to kidnap you, deliver you to the hands of slavers, and go to a party. All in one day. This guy makes Jones look like a kitten.”

“Yeah. Jones never made us go to parties.” She ambled toward the escalator. “We should go. I don’t know how long this little production is going to take. We should do a few run-throughs. I think Jones has a house now.”