only tracker I know of lives hundreds of miles from here.” Helplessness swelled in her chest. Something in her gut told her that this was not a usual tussle—that Garrett was in real trouble.
* * *
“I am going to fuck up whoever has him.” Jackson stalked along the pavement with Lissa trailing behind him. It wasn’t a big city, but there were plenty of abandoned buildings, not to mention neighborhoods where he wouldn’t take Lissa in full daylight much less at night. Thank God he’d remembered he had a GPS tracker installed on Garrett’s cell phone. They weren’t far from him, but the place they were going to was not nice.
“I’ll help,” Lissa said, her boots clacking along the sidewalk.
“Can you, for God’s sake, be a little quieter? You shouldn’t even be here.”
“Think what you want. He’s my friend, too.”
“Yeah, and you might get us all killed with your high fashion. We’re not exactly making a stealth approach right now.”
The expression on her face told him she was holding back some kind of comment that would start a fight, and he almost sent another jab her way to get it rolling. But she wasn’t the focus of his anger, and he wanted to save the rage that was pounding through his veins for the people who had Garrett cornered.
As they neared the GPS location of Garrett’s phone, Jackson took a deep breath. A light was on in the front window of 547 Manheim Street. Jackson crouched at the corner of Smith and Manheim behind a decorative set of trees in pots. He tried to scope out the situation when really he just wanted to bust in and kick some ass.
Grabbing Lissa’s hand, he pulled her down beside him. “Keep a sharp eye out. Let me know if you see anything.”
She jerked her hand out of his and punched him in the shoulder, right where the tattoo gun had been earlier. It hurt like a bitch, but he kept his groan in, barely.
“If you’d use the power from that tattoo, we wouldn’t have to sneak around. You could be up in that room already, surprising the hell out of whoever has Garrett.”
Whipping his head around, he sent her a glare that should have stopped her in her tracks, but Lissa was not a woman to be intimidated. Never had been.
“Yeah, you heard me. You could be in there taking care of business.”
“I don’t want it. Now be quiet so I can assess what’s going on. Don’t make me regret that I brought you with me when you could have been searching for Dory.”
Her lips clamped into a flat line, but she didn’t say anything more.
No noise came from the run-down house, a little saltbox from the early 1800s whose heyday had come and gone decades ago. No shadows crossed in front of the drawn shades. He’d thought about calling Garrett back, but if his attackers hadn’t figured out he had a phone on him, Jackson didn’t want to be the one to alert them.
For a brief moment he did consider going invisible. Lissa was right, after all. It would make saving his friend a snap. But he didn’t want the responsibility of the power, and he certainly didn’t want to risk the agony Garrett’s abilities cost him. Lissa might think it wouldn’t happen, but if Jackson had learned one thing in life, it was that there were always consequences.
“You keep watch out here. See if you can get ahold of Dory. We have to know where she is.… Whatever happened, Garrett is going to need her.”
Lissa’s cell phone was already in her hand when he made a dash for the back of the house, which he figured was the safest way to enter.
The kitchen door was unlocked. He entered and closed the door as quietly as possible behind him. The house was laid out like many he’d seen before, with the kitchen taking up the back of the house and two rooms up front. Depending on the layout, the staircase would probably be in the middle. From the placement of the windows, though, he knew it was going to be on his left. Being in construction had its perks.
No boards creaked under his feet, thankfully. He wondered briefly if his invisibility power would mask sounds, too, or just his appearance. He shook the thought off. He wasn’t going to use it, so it didn’t matter.
The stairwell was indeed on his left. He used it as cover to peek into the front room. Empty. He’d figured as much, but better safe than sorry. The last thing he wanted was to give someone an opportunity to jump him from behind.
The stairs weren’t as quiet as the kitchen floor, and each squeak set his nerves on edge until he broke into a run and raced to the second floor. If anyone was here, they would have heard him by now, so there was no point in favoring stealth over speed.
When he reached the landing, he burst through the first door to his right and found nothing. Well, shit. To his left was another door and, given the layout, there would probably be one more door down the hallway to the right. One would have to be a bathroom, the other a bedroom. Which should he check first? Jackson had rarely let indecision hold him in its grip, and he wasn’t about to start now.
The bedroom held nothing but some old crumpled trash and a plump purple chair. The house obviously wasn’t in use.
That left the bathroom. He had no idea what he’d find, but hanging back and thinking wasn’t about to give him the answers he needed.
Taking the door with his shoulder, he busted it in.
It wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but it wasn’t pretty either.… Garrett’s wrists were tied to the shower rod with rope, and his bloody and beaten body was suspended over the tub. As Jackson used his utility knife to free his friend, he thought about Lissa. He sure as hell hoped she’d managed to get ahold of Dory. Without her—and her ability to heal Garrett—his friend might not have much time left.…
Chapter Three
Lissa practiced an ancient religion whose name had been lost over the ages. It incorporated parts of different well-known religions, including Wicca. Still, she had no idea where to send her prayers as Jackson climbed into the backseat of her car with a pulverized Garrett essentially draped over his lap.
She’d finally reached Dory, who had been working late on some local business owner’s taxes. It had taken every ounce of charm and persuasive power Lissa could channel to make Dory go home to wait for Garrett instead of rushing to the scene.
Lissa screeched to a halt behind Garrett’s apartment building. She hoped the dark would cover them as they dragged him into the building and up the stairs. If anyone saw his injuries, they’d insist on a hospital visit. Given that Dory was the only one who could set him right, that could be fatal for him.
Dory was waiting at the back door, holding it open with one hand as she covered her mouth with the other. Lissa could see the scream in her eyes, but could also tell she was as aware of the need for surreptitiousness as they were. She kept silent.
Jackson slammed out of the car, ran around to Garrett’s door and dragged the other man out. Setting him on his feet, he ducked under one arm as Lissa ducked under the other.
“You ready?” Jackson asked.
“As ready as I’ll ever be. We need to make sure Dory doesn’t go off the handle,” she murmured, pitching her voice low so the other woman wouldn’t hear her.
“She’s strong. She’ll do what’s necessary.”
Lissa braced herself to help haul Garrett’s inert body up the stairs because the building didn’t have an elevator. When they got him to the door, Dory immediately started laying her hands on the visible bumps and bruises on his arms, strange marks that looked like they came from a needle. Her eyes welled with tears, though she kept them from falling.
Jackson jerked to a halt on the first landing, and Lissa took the opportunity to catch her breath.
“Dory, why don’t you go on up and get things ready?”