Guild Boss (Ghost Hunters #14)(38)

Two men armed with flamers exploded out of a quicksilver doorway. One got an arm around Lucy’s throat. He yanked her hard against his chest.

“That’s far enough, Jones,” he said. He wore a huge chunk of amber in his belt buckle. “Drop the flamer or I’ll use mine on the woman.”

“Take it easy,” Gabriel said. He crouched and set the flamer on the quartz pavement.

“Thanks for deactivating the damned doll for us,” the other man said. His greasy hair was tied back with a leather thong. “We’ll take it from here.”





CHAPTER SIXTEEN





Lucy had been running hot, concentrating on reading the weather ahead as well as keeping track of the indicator lights on the locator. The man had struck like a snake, wrapping his arm around her throat before she realized what was happening. He stank of adrenaline-fueled sweat. The vibe of his aura was spiked with blood-chilling violence. Psychopath.

“Now put the doll down, Jones,” the man with the ponytail ordered.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lucy caught a glimpse of her attacker’s belt buckle. Ostentatious, to say the least, she decided.

“Sure,” Gabriel said. He lowered the doll so that it was standing upright, deadly eyes pointed at Ponytail. “I take it you paid Croston to steal the queen. Did you kill him?”

“We were going to get rid of him, but the doll saved us the trouble,” Ponytail said. “Somehow the machine got activated. We didn’t want to get near it. We knew you and the weather channeler were on the way, so we decided to wait and let you do the hard work for us. The client thought you might be able to deal with it.”

Otis appeared, racing around the corner. He was sleeked out. Lucy knew he was going to go straight for the throat of Sweat-Stink.

“It’s a fucking dust bunny,” Ponytail muttered. He aimed the flamer at Otis.

“No,” Lucy said quickly. “Please. Don’t hurt him.”

“Stop that rat or I’ll burn it,” Ponytail ordered.

“Otis,” Lucy said quietly, “it’s okay. I’ve got this.”

Otis stopped, but he did not take his four eyes off Sweat-Stink.

Gabriel looked at Lucy. “Do you have it?”

“No problem,” she said. “Tons of energy down here to work with.”

Ponytail glanced at her and scowled. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Just chatting,” Lucy said.

She rezzed her talent to the max and went to work. A glorious exultation swept through her. She summoned the energy that was infused into the atmosphere and channeled it.

Ghosts whispered in the lane. The whispers swiftly turned to shrieks and wails. The silvery fog thickened rapidly. Thunder boomed.

“Shit,” Ponytail muttered. “Storm. Big one. We need to get inside. Leave Jones and the woman out here. The weather will take care of them for us.”

“What about the doll?” Sweat-Stink said.

“Forget it.” Ponytail headed for a nearby door. He kept the flamer aimed at Gabriel. “It’s lasted this long. It will probably survive the storm.”

Sweat-Stink released Lucy and hurried after his pal.

Flashes of energy sparked. Lightning shattered the atmosphere. A senses-dazzling bolt struck Ponytail when he was a foot away from a silvery door. He stiffened, his face twisted into a monstrous mask.

Sweat-Stink collided with him. Another bolt flashed in the fog. For a moment both men looked as if they had been cast in a tableau straight out of a horror film. In the next instant they crumpled to the ground.

The thrill of raw power blazed through Lucy’s veins. So much energy. And she was channeling it. She was in control, a goddess unleashing lightning.

“Lucy,” Gabriel said quietly.

She laughed, because his hair was standing on end. So was Otis’s fur. She turned in a circle, savoring the wild storm she had created.

“Lucy,” Gabriel said again. Louder this time.

He walked toward her.

“Don’t you just love a good storm?” she said.

“Some other time, maybe,” he said. “You need to come down, Lucy.”

“Why? I’m flying.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Gabriel smiled. “You’re high on psi, Lucy. Time to come back to the real world.”

“I feel real.” She put her hand on his shoulder. “You’re real, too, aren’t you?”

“I think so.”

A fierce excitement flashed through her.

“The first time I saw you I thought you were a hallucination,” she said.

“Did you?”

“But you’re not. You’re my very own Lord of the Underworld.”

“Uh, Lucy—”

She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him with all the energy flooding her body. He went very still.

“Damn it,” he said against her lips. “Wrong time. Wrong place.”

But he kissed her back, hard and fierce, and there was so much energy in the physical connection that she knew they were both flying. They stood in the eye of the magnificent storm that whirled around them.

Gabriel abruptly set her aside. “Lucy. Stop. Now.”

She took a deep breath. He was right. Wrong time, wrong place. Reluctantly she lowered her senses.