Page 29 of Revenant (Spirit Realm #2)

JAMESON

P ookie’s name repeats in my head like a chant, pounding in time with my heartbeat, the need to find her an imperative I can’t ignore.

She’s in danger.

Again.

And it’s driving me fucking insane that I’m not there to protect her.

What good are we as her boyfriends if we can’t keep her from harm?

The air is thick with smoke, tickling my lungs, but that’s not the reason it’s so hard to breathe. No, my chest is tight with anxiety. I’ve lost too many people in my life—people who were supposed to love me.

I refuse to believe Rue would leave me as well.

No, she will do whatever it takes to survive.

Because she loves me and knows I’m waiting for her.

I won’t stop looking for her, not until we find her. If she wants to run, then we can run away together. I don’t give a fuck if the rest of the world burns down around us.

“This is the last place I saw Rue,” Mabel says, her voice scratchy, then she coughs into her fist. Before Gunner can huff and puff and kick down the door, I dart forward and throw it wide, anticipation riding me hard.

Only to wilt when I find the room empty.

I stalk down the row of beds, throwing the curtains wide and stooping to peer under each cot like I can magically make her appear. When I reach the last curtain, I pause when I see shadows shift.

Pookie wouldn’t huddle behind the drapes like a coward.

Just as the thought crosses my mind, a bright light flares. My eyes widen, and I drop to the floor with a yell. “Down!”

My warning barely comes before a fireball sears through the curtain and bursts into the room with a sizzle of heat that singes my hair. Gunner tackles both girls, accidentally knocking their two men to the ground in the process when he misjudges his size. They land in a pile of arms and legs, mixed with a few grunts and groans. At least that means he didn’t kill anyone by accidentally squashing them. Ellis ducks behind a bed, while my twin dives into the safety of the hallway.

The only one who doesn’t react is Hicks.

Actually, I take that back. The bastard marches across the room like his shit doesn’t stink. It does, I lived with the fucker long enough to testify to the fact. The fireball smacks him right in the chest. The asshole doesn’t even pause when his shirt incinerates on contact, tiny specs of ash and fabric floating in the air behind him.

I roll my eyes at the dramatics. Okay, I fucking pout.

That’s so fucking cool!

And they think I’m the crazy fucker.

Without pausing, he marches through the curtain of fire, then a meaty thump follows and a yelp. A second later, the drapes sag and drop to the floor in a smoldering pile, and we see Hicks holding Gordan against the wall by his throat.

“Where did they take Rue?” Hicks snarls the question right in his face, his fangs flashing in warning. Gordan might pretend that he’s not bothered, but his eyes roll in fear.

“Fuck you!” Gordan claws at the hand holding him aloft, his fingers glowing as he tries to use his flames to break free, but it’s no use. “She’s gone, and you’re never going to find her.”

The pissant smirks, but the look is ruined by the broken nose from yesterday’s fight and the dark bruises under each eye, not to mention his swollen jaw and busted lip from the blow Hicks just administered.

Hicks raises a single brow, a sinister smile spreading across his face. “I was hoping you would tell us to save time, but I’m okay prying the information out of you one piece at a time.”

Gordan’s face pales, and his gaze flicks around the room like a frightened rabbit desperate for escape. His eyes lock on the door, like he’s expecting a rescue, and I rise to my feet, snorting at the dickhead. “If you think the guards are coming, you’re an idiot. They already fled. We’re the only ones left.”

Gunner rises to his feet, stretching his neck side to side until bones crack, then he lumbers forward. “Give him to me, boss. I’m sure with my new strength, I can pulverize his bones one inch at a time. No doctor will be able to put him back together once I’m done.”

“Instead of Sparkie, we can call him Humpty Dumpty.” I shuffle forward, my need for blood impossible to ignore any longer. “I need a knife. Does anyone have a knife? I bet he’ll no longer be fireproof if I remove his skin.”

“You’re fucking insane,” Gordan whispers, his eyes widening with horror.

“Yes.” I smile back at him, my grin more than a little bloodthirsty. “Yes, I am. All that matters to me is my pookie, and you are in my way. Either tell me what we want to know, or I will go through you to get answers.”

“Th-they went topside,” he stutters, pointing to the door with a trembling hand. “To the asylum.”

Hicks tightens his grip on Gordan’s throat, a strangled yelp escaping the young man. He frantically swats at Hicks in an effort to break free, but each blow is more ineffectual than the last. His face is turning an alarming shade of red, almost dark enough to match his awful hair.

“Just kill him and let’s go.” I turn away from Hicks and head toward the door, unable to keep a whine from my voice. “I want my pookie.”

“Wait!” Gordan squeaks out in alarm, his feet kicking as he scrambles for purchase. “I can show you his lab. I can get you past the guards. You need me.”

“Isn’t that why we have Crystal?” I glance at my twin with a scowl, unable to keep the annoyance and exasperation from my voice. “Please tell me we don’t need both of them.”

Jace winces, then sticks a finger in his ear and wiggles it. He scowls down at the bitch’s body sprawled haphazardly on the bed, a snarl of disgust twisting his face. If I listen carefully, I can almost hear her high-pitched yapping. Now that I know it’s ghosts and not just voices in my head, it’s a lot easier to ignore them.

I’ve had enough practice.

I’ve been doing it most of my life.

I bounce on my feet, anxious to head out.

Pookie is waiting for me.

I can sense it.

“We don’t need either of them,” rasps the teenager who resembles a zombie a little too much for my comfort. He’s one of the goons who hangs out with the chick at our table—Dickson or Dawson or some shit. I stalk toward him, his too thin frame so lanky, it looks like a skeleton wrapped in flesh.

“You promise on your life?” I demand, not bothering to mask my threat as I stare, unblinking, into his muted green eyes.

The kid has balls of steel. Instead of cowering, he shuffles to his full height and meets my gaze. Though his throat bobs once, he doesn’t back down, and I recognize the combination of madness and despair in his eyes all too easily. “Yeah, Brad and I met in his private facility. It’s where he stored us before he received funds to create his underground bunker.”

My gaze snaps to the older dude, and I narrow my eyes on the fucker for not volunteering the information sooner…then nearly rear back when my gaze meets eyes that are pits of pure darkness. Whatever bad shit he witnessed scarred his soul black, and I barely hold back a shudder. If pookie hadn’t saved me, that would’ve been my fate.

“He can’t speak.” The dark twin answers my challenge, planting herself protectively in front of him. She crosses her arms and glares up at me defiantly, daring me to touch her man.

I tilt my head as I peer down at her, noting how both men tense. Her mutinous expression is so similar to my pookie that I blink in surprise and back off. “Make sure your men treat you right, or you come to me, okay?”

She blinks a little owlishly, her mouth sagging open. Done with the conversation, I turn on my heel and march out the door. “Let’s head out! Pookie is waiting.”

The girl sputters, squawking in protest, but her sister just chuckles. I almost make it out the door when the ghost following us throws a tantrum about leaving her body. Jace clutches his head at her tirade, staggering to stay on his feet, and a trickle of blood leaks from his nose. If I squint, I swear I can almost see the bitch screaming into his ear.

I march back into the room, tempted to snap her scrawny fucking neck, but I won’t risk that she will never leave us alone again. Instead, I snatch her off the bed and throw her over my shoulder, grimacing at being forced to touch the disgusting skank.

She tried to hurt my pookie… She is lucky to still be alive.

Once the bitch is put back into her body, all bets are off.

I march out the door, and if her head thumped against the doorjamb… Oops, my bad. I smirk evilly, my steps not slowing as I stride down the hallway. When the others don’t move fast enough, I yell over my shoulder, “Let’s go. Pookie is waiting.”

The guys follow me without pause. The twinsie girls are seconds behind them. Gordan’s terrified scream echoes down the hallway, followed by a gurgle. None of us flinch at the slurping sound or the ominous silence that follows.

None of us have stones to throw.

More than once, we’ve come home covered in blood.

In our world, we don’t hesitate if a man needs killing.

It’s either them or us.

The two boy toys step into the hallway last, each wiping blood from their mouths, and I mentally shrug and brush it off. Who am I to judge how they kill? More than once, I’ve cut off a man’s balls for brutally raping a young girl or gutted another who liked to hit his girlfriend.

It’s kind of cool that they can eat the body and get rid of the evidence.

The kid avoids anyone’s gaze, as if ashamed, while the older man meets our stare with a silent challenge. When none of us even blink, the tense set of his shoulders relaxes.

I whirl around a corner, smirking when the bitch’s head hits the wall with a nasty thump, leaving a dent in the drywall. I practically skip down the hallway, whistling a merry tune at the thought of collecting pookie and leaving this place once and for all.