Grim Vengeance Read online

  Emma nodded. “And he’s right. We don’t. I’m glad you talked to him. Got him to see reason.”

  “It was that or risk him hearing one of us think about it on accident.”

  Smiling, she pulled Isaac closer. “And when it’s over?”

  His face hardened and his eyes darkened. “He told me he wasn’t going to do a thing. However, he said he has no control over the others and couldn’t stop them from hunting us down if they truly wanted to.”

  —-

  Jaxon squeezed the drill in tight hands. His palms were covered in sweat, and his heart raced in a steady thumping rhythm. The final screw twirled into place. He jiggled the license plate, ensuring it wasn’t loose, and stood. A quick glance around the empty parking lot showed him no one was watching him.

  The dim lights of the quaint bar cast a yellow aura around the building and nearest cars, but Jaxon had chosen the darkest corner of the lot, changing plates from a stranger’s car to the one he drove.

  Easy peasy, he thought as he pulled away from the bar and into the night. He wiped his hands on his jeans and smoothed his hair. Trees whipped by. The lines of the road blurred together in white and yellow streaks. Lightning flashed in the distance, drawing his attention to the sky for a moment. No stars shone, obscured by clouds from the imminent storm. Even the moon was nowhere in sight. Dad loved looking at the stars...

  Anger flooded through him. He shoved the thought away and focused on the road in front of him instead of his father’s dying gasps.

  His hands tightened on the wheel.

  “This...this is you?” Bruce’s final words uttered as he clutched at his chest, horror replacing the pain on his face as he realized Jaxon was the one stopping his heart.

  His jaw began to ache as he ground his teeth back and forth.

  Jaxon hadn’t entirely meant to kill his father. Even after discovering Bruce had been working for Vance ever since they had moved to Redborough. It was the anger, the rage. It blinded him. Made him do things he wouldn’t normally do. At least I don’t hear voices.

  He laughed and slid into a new lane, preparing to exit the interstate. Bright city lights shone on the horizon before him in different hues of yellow, white, green, and blue. They reflected off the choppy waters of Lake Michigan, creating a shimmering reflection that seemed as if someone had just painted a replica of the skyline in quick squiggles. The second, more chaotic city view squirmed in constant motion as if the city itself held secrets beneath, where no one but he could see.

  Jaxon cut his speed in half, slowing to merge with new traffic. He misjudged his timing and the driver behind him flashed their brights. Jaxon flipped them off. Scowling, he moved into the furthest lane, the fastest lane, and pressed the accelerator down. He passed the slower cars and trucks, intent on finding a cheap hotel so he could finally pass out and forget the events of Boston, slip into unconsciousness, and forget his father.

  A buzz rattled the cup holder in his center console. Keeping an eye on the road, he reached down and picked up his cell phone.

  Two texts from Charlie waited for him.

  Where are you? read the first. The second was longer: Had to make a detour first. Picked up something that will help me get Vance.

  Jaxon replaced his phone and continued to drive. Entering the city minutes later, he slowed even further. Although it was nearing one in the morning, downtown Chicago still bustled. He came to a halt more than once as he approached red light after red light. Irritated, he drummed on the steering wheel with one hand. When he stopped yet again, he let out a curse and snatched his phone.

  Just got to Chicago, he replied to Charlie. He thought a moment, then sent, What the hell is it that you need so badly? Why aren’t you tracking down Vance yet?

  The driver behind him honked. Looking up, Jaxon realized the light had changed. Surging his car forward, he dropped his cell on his lap.

  “This is you?” His dying father’s words slammed into his mind once again.

  Jaxon slammed his palm on the wheel, his car swerving to the left. Horns blared, and a few pedestrians yelled something he couldn’t make out. “Fuck off,” he grumbled.

  A buzzing on his lap distracted him and he looked down. Slowing to five under the speed limit, he checked his phone.

  Charlie’s reply said, You’re just getting there now? What took you so long?

  Jaxon took one hand off the wheel and began a text back to his accomplice. He intended to tell him to mind his own damn business, leaving out the entirety of the misery he’d been experiencing since his father died on the ground before him back in Salem. Leaving out the guilt that constantly battled with the pride he felt in taking out another Vance employee. The pain. The emptiness. The lonely agony he’d been struggling with since Julie’s death years ago. Since Cassie’s. The anger he kept bottled up from knowing Shawn was out there somewhere, slowly turning on him, working with the other Synths. That he no doubt had heard of the slaughter he’d caused in Boston by now, that his brother might have even been there when Mari stopped time to save Isaac and his whore Emma. Does Shawn know about Dad? His heart stuttered and threatened to plummet, and he gripped his cell hard enough to break it.

  A scream brought Jaxon’s attention back to the road, away from his phone. Two women, a blonde and a redhead, dressed in short skirts, oddly patterned leggings, and low-cut blouses, cowered in the lights of his car. He slammed on the brakes, tires squealing, but it was too late. The bumper of his car grazed the legs of the closest woman. Using his mind, he flung them both to the left, out of danger, just as he came to a full stop.

  Heart racing, breath shooting between clenched teeth, Jaxon got out of the car. Leaving his door open, he rounded on the women lying near the sidewalk. Drivers around them stopped as well, but thankfully, no one honked.

  “What the fuck is the matter with you?” he screamed. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  The women stared at him, clutching each other, arms shaking. The redhead started to cry. “Oh, God,” she said. “Oh, God, what happened?”

  “What happened? You ran out in front of my car, that’s what happened.” He glowered down at them, fury surging through his veins.

  “I’m sorry.” The blonde woman was struggling to stand, her legs wobbling from shock and the ridiculously high heels she wore.

  Jaxon sneered at her. “You’re lucky I didn’t kill you.” He stalked back to his car, slid inside, and slammed the door. The women finally stood, still shaken. He pressed on his horn. “Move it! God damn.”

  The two scrambled out of his way, staring at him as he gunned by them. The blonde made a rude gesture, but Jaxon was distracted by a harsh buzz. Turning onto a side street he picked up his cell and glanced at the screen. A grin spread across his face as he read the latest message from Charlie.

  I have a new weapon that can help us kill the Synths.

  Chapter Two

  Dad,

  I miss you. You have no idea how much I wish I could have seen you before you died. Hell, how much I wish I could have somehow convinced you to come to Duncan’s instead of going after Jaxon. How much I wish I could take back everything, even my years as Grim. I never got to tell you about that. I never got to tell you one last time how much I love you. I never even called you Dad, always felt I didn’t deserve a father as amazing as you. And now you’re gone, and I’ll never get to.

  A tear splattered on the paper before him, saturating the ink. Shawn pressed down on it with his sleeve, grimacing, trying not to swipe and smear the words.

  I never once thought Jaxon would hurt you. If I had, I wouldn’t have run. I wouldn’t have left. And if it had meant coming between you and Jax, choosing one or the other, as much as I care about my brother, I would have done anything to save your life.

  Shawn paused, staring out the little window in front of the desk. The trees were blooming, their branches swaying in a strong wind that caused the cabin to creak and groan. A storm was coming, darkening the sky prematurely. He tried
to ignore how much it looked like Jaxon’s cloud of wraiths, telling himself his brother had no idea where they were. He looked back down at his pointless letter.

  I swear to you, Dad, I will stop him. Both you and I know what that means. He killed you, took you from me. He’s too far gone, too taken by his power and thirst for revenge. No words are going to stop him, I know this now. Jaxon may be my brother, but he has to be stopped by any means necessary.

  It won’t bring you back, won’t make things right, but if I don’t do it, more will suffer and die. And I refuse to allow that.

  I’m going to kill him.

  A soft knock on Shawn’s closed door startled him and he lost his grip on the pencil. It clattered along the desk, coming to rest next to the paper he’d been writing on.

  “Who is it?” he called out, careful to keep his voice from wavering as much as his fingers trembled.

  “Emma.”

  He swallowed and closed his eyes. “Come in.” Turning as she entered, he cleared his throat and smiled. “What’s up?”

  “I wanted to see how you’re doing. If you needed to, I don’t know, talk to someone.”

  “Oh, sure, I’d love to discuss the murder of my father by my own brother’s hand and the impending doom we’re about to face when we go after your boss to ask for help while trying not to get caught and tortured to death all so we can confront a psychotic telekinetic hell-bent on killing us all. Where would you like to start?”

  Emma frowned, tilting her head to one side and stepping toward him. “I’m so sorry, Shawn.”

  He nodded and looked at the floor, arms crossed. Pain shot up his biceps from the grip he had on himself that he couldn’t release. He only looked back up when she gently touched his shoulder.

  “Let me help you.”

  “Brainwash me? Like I said last week, no. Don’t you dare.”

  Emma frowned. “I can try to take away your pain, or at least some of it. I want to help you.”

  “Then leave it be. If I let you make things better, I might not give this everything I’ve got. Maybe once we’re done, once we’ve beaten Jaxon, I’ll come to you and ask for that exact thing. But until then, I need this pain fresh.”

  She nodded, blue eyes wide and full of sympathy. “He loved you.”

  “You didn’t even know my father.”

  “Yes, I did. I met him a few times. More than once he mentioned his sons, and I didn’t need him to tell me details or regale me with stories. I could see it in his eyes every time he mentioned his kids. I just had no idea he was speaking about you.”

  Shawn scoffed. “I’m sure Vance did. And that he kept that information from you and from Bruce when he set up the infiltration.”

  “I was never told plenty of things, much less personal relationships of the staff.”

  “If you would have known, would it have really changed your mind?”

  Emma blinked and lowered her hand. Her brow furrowed, and her eyes grew distant. “At the time,” she said after a moment, “I honestly don’t think so. It was so important to me that I was given better work, more respect, that I was blind to the pain I was causing others. Isaac and I both regret that, you know. Every single day.”

  Staring into her eyes, Shawn felt warmth and calm spread through him. “I know. Of course I know. Neither of you would be here if you didn’t care. Regardless, it’s just...still difficult. To accept your role in my life before all of this.”

  “I know. I wish I could take it back. All of it. Back to before my mother was killed. Maybe I could have done something different, helped her more.”

  “You were a child. What could you have done?”

  Emma smiled. “Doesn’t mean I don’t wish for it every day.”

  Shawn thought about his letter on the desk. He nodded and ran a hand through his shaggy hair.

  She stepped back, heading for the door. “Someday I hope you come to me, let me ease your pain. If you ever need me, for anything, just ask.”

  “Emma,” he blurted. When she turned, regarding him with kindness and caring, his heart melted. “I forgive you.”

  The expression on her face shifted from concern to shock to gratitude. Striding forward, she wrapped him into a hug, pressing against him hard. “That means so much to me.”

  Smiling, he held her back, resting his cheek on the top of her head.

  “I care about you so much, Shawn.” Emma pulled away, looking up at him with eagerness. “I care about you.”

  Another flood of warmth, more intense this time, flowed through him, bringing a feeling of content. “I care about you, too. We’re going to win this thing. I promise.”

  “Damn right we are.” She smiled again and let him go, walking out of the room before he could say anything else.

  Alone once more, Shawn turned and stared at the desk. The single white piece of paper still sat where he’d left it, the letter unfinished. He stepped up to it slowly, staring at the words he’d written.

  If I don’t do it, more will suffer and die.

  “Maybe she’s right,” he mumbled to himself. Glancing up, he watched the storm clouds move closer, churning in a slow, lazy motion. Maybe the pain will be a distraction instead. Maybe she can just get rid of some of it. The crushing sadness, perhaps, or the overwhelming urge to tear someone apart with my bare hands. Pushing the last thought back into the depths of his mind, he strode from his room, down the hall, and into the living room.

  Emma sat on the couch in Isaac’s arms, smiling at him as she trailed her fingers through his curly hair. He was saying something to her Shawn couldn’t hear, but it didn’t matter. Just the sight of them like that was enough to harden his resolve and change his mind. Instead, he walked back the way he’d come, trying to ignore the tinge of green around the edges of his vision, and nearly collided with Mari.

  “Whoa.” She threw her hands up and stepped back, blinking fast.

  “Sorry, sorry. Just trying to get away from the lovebirds back there.”

  Mari’s face changed, her upper lip curling. “I still don’t get why we don’t find a way to lock them up. Like we did in Colorado. I don’t trust her.”

  “Her? Just Emma? Not Isaac?”

  She fidgeted with the front of her shirt. “When he talks, I believe what he’s saying. Her, on the other hand, well hell, how can we believe anything she says at all? She can’t even trust herself not to accidentally say something malicious, or so we’re led to believe. How can we be sure that we’re not all under her spell right now? A power like hers could be used against us quickly and efficiently, and I’m staying far the fuck away from her until this is over.”

  The look on her face brought a frown to Shawn’s. “And then?”

  Mari stared at him but didn’t reply. Instead she turned and walked back to her room.

  “Dammit.” Shawn followed her, close on her heels, the unspoken threat to Emma’s safety bringing unease and anger to the back of his throat. “What then?” he demanded as they entered her room.

  “What do you care? Oh, that’s right, she’s ensnared you, made you love her using her power.”

  “I don’t love Emma.”

  “Uh huh. We all see how you look at her.”

  Shawn reached out and gripped her arm. “I don’t. She’s never once told me to. Sure, I started getting feelings for her back when...” He waved a hand. “But I never fell for her.”

  “Whatever. My point is, nothing’s going to happen after. Because all the princess has to do is order us to leave her and her boy alone and we’ll do just that.” Mari pulled out of his grasp, but gently. She crossed her arms and watched his face for a reaction.

  “Look, I get that you don’t trust them. Or just her. But can we all just stop with the violence and hatred? Can we just try to take Jaxon out together? Because if we aren’t willing to at least trust each other enough to fight him, we’re going to lose.”

  Her face softened and she pursed her lips. “I can’t lose any more of my family. Any more people I
love.” Suddenly, tears rimmed her eyes. “I miss Peter so much. He’d know what to do, know what to say. But I can’t...I just can’t...”

  Shawn reached out and pulled her close. She was stiff for a moment but gradually put her arms around his torso. Inhaling the scent of her hair, a light waft of peach, he said, “I know. Every single day that goes by I think I can’t, too. But we can. Together. We can be strong together, fight together. Win together. Right?”

  She looked up at him, gracing him with a smile regardless of the wetness around her eyes. “Damn right.”

  Something changed in her look. She lifted on her toes and brought her lips to his. Unsure of what to do, completely shocked and confused, Shawn didn’t move until she broke away.

  They stared at each other in silence for a moment.

  “I’m not Peter,” he said in a quiet voice.

  “I know.” Her gaze didn’t waver. “You’re so much like him, yet completely different. But I know.”

  Shawn stared into her blue eyes. Blue, like Emma’s, only darker. Harder. More guarded. He touched his fingertips to the side of her neck.

  “I’m not her,” she said.

  He gazed at her, trying to understand the emotions he was fighting inside.

  “I don’t want you to be.” Shawn kissed her just as a peal of thunder sounded, shaking the cabin’s walls and rattling the window panes.

  —-

  Isaac rolled over and buried his face in Emma’s neck. Nuzzling her skin, he planted quick kiss after kiss until she squirmed.

  “You jerk,” she mumbled. “I was having the best dream.”

  “Sorry.” He maneuvered on top of her, pinning her arms to her side. “But it’s breakfast time.” Dipping his head, he tried to kiss her on the mouth, but she twisted her face away.

  “You’re crushing me.” Gasping, Emma struggled underneath him. “Can’t...breathe...!” She widened her eyes. “The end...it’s near!”

  “Uh huh. Sure.” Flopping forward he deadened his weight, slipping a hand down her side.