Slipping the Past Read online

  The reaper sent another wave blasting through the storefront. Nate flew backward, slammed into a beer case, and came to rest in a heap on the floor. Her vision blurred, and the stench of ozone filled her nostrils. “Nate!”

  Not now. Her control snapped. Jocelyn ripped free from the clerk and exploded through the wall. Her soul collided with flesh like a runaway train, sending her glasses flying over the curb. She didn’t bother to retrieve them. She’d need them later but not now. Now she needed to see. She sucked in a breath, opened her eyes, and searched the shattered storefront. Sharp pains, like fragments of slivered metal, pierced her skull. Even moonlight proved almost too much.

  The reaper stepped forward and peered in through the broken glass, soul-cell still in hand. No. Nate was right. He could only take one soul, and she’d be damned if it was going to be Nate.

  “Leave him alone!”

  The reaper turned his head and his gaze locked on to her. “You,” a deep voice boomed. He stuffed the egg-sized globe in a pouch on his hip and strode toward her, eating distance between them. His long duster fluttered behind him, giving him the appearance of the mythical reaper, minus the sickle. Except there was nothing mythical about him. He was real and coming for her. “You’re under arrest for past crimes enforced under the Galactic Codex.”

  Stupid alien technology and laws. Still disoriented from the jump, Jocelyn crab-crawled backward. She found her footing and scrambled to rise. Not one of her more brilliant moments. She’d felt him nearby and should have gotten out instead of going into the store. But she couldn’t leave Nate, and he wouldn’t have left without the credit. But she could have drawn him away.

  Did the reaper know she’d been inside the clerk, and what they’d done? Had he seen the gun? The way he’d moved for her brother made her certain he had. She braced against the wall. Her pulse raced and her mouth went dry. “You’ve got the wrong person.”

  “No.” The streetlight over her head snapped on, separating her from the shadows. He closed in, drawing the staff off his back. It pulsed in an array of oranges and blues, lit from his energies. Jocelyn closed her eyes, unable to take the light.

  Enforcers were genetically manipulated in the womb, the strongest identified from birth, their talents cultivated and brains enhanced to increase the power of their gifts. Then, from the age of five, the children were given Ki-staffs and taught to use them with lethal accuracy. One hit and she was done. Jocelyn knew she wasn’t going to escape, but Nate? She had to help him before the reaper brought in reinforcements to apprehend her brother. She focused and jumped into her only sibling. His eyes were open, but his vision was fuzzy. He rubbed the back of his head and stared at the fragmented window, trying to summon the strength to climb to his feet. She relaxed. If she could distract the reaper long enough, her brother could get away.

  “Get back here.” The reaper seized her energy and threw her back into her body.

  “Please let me go. I’m not a criminal.”

  “Says the fugitive with a warrant.” The streetlight overhead fragmented and showered down. “Look at me,” the reaper growled.

  Jocelyn swallowed and complied. Her gaze drifted from his boots, up muscled thighs, up, up to a face cloaked in shadows. Who? Her knees began to quake. The energy radiating off him buzzed through her like a live wire. The muscles in her body locked and her breath caught. Something about him.

  “I’m innocent,” Jocelyn spluttered. Her eyes felt as though they would burst. Still, she held his gaze, knowing that when she looked away, it would be over.

  “Innocent people don’t have warrants.” He stepped closer and tossed a cube on the ground.

  A holographic image of the document floated before her. Standard arrest procedure. She was seconds from becoming a battery. She stared through it and at him.

  Yes, he was familiar. Of course they’d sent the best to bring her in. His face was unmistakable, and she’d heard he’d recently relocated from off-world. “Gabriel Solaris.”

  “Jocelyn Miller.”

  “You have to believe me. I’m innocent.”

  “You have the right to remain silent.”

  “Please, listen to me—”

  “In 1670, you murdered a family in their sleep.”

  “No. I didn’t. I couldn’t. I’m not that person.”

  “It was your soul.”

  “How can you be certain?” Keep him talking.

  “Your warrant.”

  Yeah, that. Jocelyn shook her head and pushed against the wall, trying to free herself from his energy lock. She’d carried the warrant from birth to adulthood and started running the day she turned eighteen because of it. “I didn’t do it. I could never kill anyone.”

  The blue flame in the reaper’s eyes intensified and sent sharp pains spearing into her brain. “In 1860 you murdered your husband and cut him into pieces, feeding his body to swine. They caught you fleeing with your lover across Confederate lines and hung you both.”

  No. She couldn’t have done that. A paper-cut made her ill. “You’ve definitely got the wrong girl.” He raised a brow, yet his mouth remained in a firm line. No, he wasn’t buying it. Jocelyn bit her lip and held his gaze. Please see I’m sincere. A face superimposed Gabriel’s. She blinked. The heat in her belly moved lower and made it impossible to catch her breath. “My God. Please listen to me.”

  His mouth became harder and the image of the other man vanished. “There’s more. Do you want me to list everything, or are you done delaying the inevitable?”

  “No. Please let me go. I won’t—didn’t do anything like that. I’m a good person.”

  “You can’t fight who you are or who you were.”

  “That isn’t who I am.”

  He took another step. She swallowed and shook her head. Waves of his aura washed over her. God, he was beautiful—and familiar. “I couldn’t have done those things.”

  She studied him, feeling as though it wasn’t the first time she’d looked upon him. His shoulders had to be at least twice the width of her brother’s. Aside from the obvious, black hair, strong jaw, and straight, sharp nose that bespoke his Roman ancestry, she knew the color of his eyes behind the blue glow, and that he had a scar on his hip. She knew his smile would stop her heart and his touch would send her into orbit. They were linked. For several lifetimes—they’d been together. Oh, God. She swallowed.

  “It’s you. You may not remember in that body, but you’re marked by your deeds. Your energy leaves a trail. Even your eyes don’t lie.”

  “You’re wrong.” She didn’t remember the crimes, but him—she knew him.

  “Am I? In 1102, soldiers raped you and your sister then removed your eyes with a hot poker to keep you from identifying them.” He stared. “You later poisoned them. The only crime deemed self-defense. Forgiven.”

  She focused on his boots, unable to take that knowing gaze. Jocelyn had never understood the reason for her light-blindness, but what he said felt like the truth. She shivered. The doctors couldn’t diagnose why the lenses in her eyes remained open. They were healthy and she wasn’t completely blind, only in the light. Even then, she wasn’t without sight. In the day, she traveled using the crowds, hiding behind solid glasses, jumping from body to body on the street, borrowing their vision, viewing the world from the sight of others.

  It was the reason she lived in the city.

  “I’m never wrong.” He stepped forward and put his staff under her chin to lift her gaze to his. More of his energy zipped through her body, warming her in a strange way. Not fear. Not the reaction she’d expected. She inhaled his scent and a flush of heat moved through her.

  “You’ve jumped for the last time. Your crimes are documented, and you’ve been tracked.”

  Jocelyn’s heart thumped. Not when I’ve just found you.

  He lowered the staff and leaned in until a cloud of his breath brushed her cheek. His hand came up and touched her jaw, sending jolts racing through her. The pad of his thumb stroked her face. Joc
elyn couldn’t get enough air into her lungs as she slipped the past. The image of another man with amber eyes danced across her vision. She reached for it with her mind and snagged a thread from her life hundreds of years before. A young woman cried in desperation as her true love died. Anger. Pain. Hurt. The loss of a man who had once been her everything. Don’t leave me. I can’t live without you.

  “Blue.” The Roman soldier dressed in brilliant red pressed the flowers into her hands. “For the color of your eyes. What is your name, goddess?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “I should know who I’ve lost my heart to.”

  She brushed her hair over one shoulder and smiled up into his face. “I’m not a deity. My name is Jocasta.” The parade of soldiers continued through the street, cheers raining down around them.

  “As lovely as the woman.”

  “I know you,” the reaper said, drawing his brows together and pulling her back to the present. His hand moved from her face and toyed with her hair, letting the strands slip through his fingers. “Like blood, but darker. It’s always been red, except that one time.” He lifted it and sniffed. “Smells like sanitizer.”

  “Bathroom soap dispensers will do that.” She half-laughed, half-choked, as her heart threatened to explode. The closer he got, the faster it beat and the more she wanted to touch him. No—not wanted—needed. Jocelyn curled her fingers, resisting the urge. What was wrong with her?

  She felt a tug on her energy. Her aura mingled with his and warmed. Deep pinks swirled into his blues and oranges. The cobalt light in his eyes faded and revealed the true color. They were…. “Like honey in candlelight.” Those eyes. My God.

  “What?” he asked, drawing his brows together.

  “Nothing.” But it wasn’t nothing. Everything came into focus. He was right about knowing her. They’d been linked for more than one lifetime and would continue to be if he didn’t imprison her for the past crimes.

  He tucked his staff away, studying her face, keeping eye contact. “You’re a criminal.” The tone of his voice said he wasn’t convinced. Perhaps she had a chance?

  “That isn’t who I am.”

  “Then who are you, Jocelyn Miller?”

  “I….” She stared back, sinking into those topaz depths. “I’m innocent. Give me a chance to prove it.” She knew in her heart the truth. She was no more a killer than her brother. A single tear trickled down her cheek. “Please.”

  He was also wrong about one other thing. It was more than knowing. Reaching up with a shaky hand, she touched his jaw. The prickly growth of a day’s worth of whiskers grazed the pads of her fingers. Much more.

  “I loved you once,” Jocelyn said.

  He captured her hand and held it against his face, staring back. Before she could blink, he leaned in and grazed her lips with his. Sparks of energy whirled around them. Jocelyn sighed against the light kiss, wanting more, needing more.

  Gabriel slid the fingers of one hand into her hair and captured her mouth to intensify the kiss. The breath sucked from her lungs, and her knees gave.

  He released her hand and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her tight to his body while his lips devoured her every sane thought. No. It can’t be.

  She still loved him.

  He released her from the wall and backed away, pointing at her chest. “I’ll give you a week to prove your innocence.”

  That kiss had been more than a kiss. Did he know? Did he feel their connection? “You’re letting me go?”

  He shook his head and frowned. “No. I’m delaying the inevitable. Damned if I know why.” As the last word left his lips, Gabriel disappeared, teleporting away to who knew where. In the dim light, another form took shape, holding a baseball bat and starting to descend toward her.

  Jocelyn screamed. “Nate, no!” She threw her arm up to block the bat headed for her head.

  He stopped the swing of the Louisville Slugger inches from her face and lowered it. “What? Where’d he go?”

  No longer able to stand—some from shock, mostly from the kiss sapping her strength and turning her into a noodle—she slid down the wall to her butt. “He’s giving me a chance to prove my innocence.”

  “Reapers don’t let their quarry go, Jocelyn.” Nate ran a hand through his hair. “Did I see right? Did you kiss that reaper?”

  She nodded.

  “Have you lost your freaking mind?”

  “It appears I have.” Jocelyn began to giggle as all the stress from the confrontation dropped on her.

  The solar lamps overhead popped on and she slammed her eyes shut, covering them with her hand. “My glasses.”

  Nate stuffed them into her fingers. She slipped them into place and jumped into Nate, using his vision to survey the area. Red and blue lights flashed in the distance. “We need to leave.”

  “I think I’ll keep this.” He hefted the bat over his shoulder. “You never know when one of these will come in handy.”

  “Handy? You almost brained me. More like dangerous.”

  “Speaking of dangerous—you’re getting stronger, Joce. I’ve never seen you jump like that, not as you did with the clerk. You controlled him.” Nate glanced both ways and rushed her down the street.

  “Desperation. I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

  “I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”

  Jocelyn nodded. “I know. But I’d be alone without you. You’re all I’ve got.”

  Or was he? Gabriel. He’d done something to her. She felt normal. The dizziness had disappeared with him. Even more amazing, she wasn’t exhausted from the jump. Whenever she traveled for more than visual leaps, it left her without energy or strength to do more than sleep. “I think the reaper did something to me.”

  Nate stiffened under her hand. “Did he hurt you?”

  “No, not that. I think he gave me energy.”

  “Why would he do that?” Nate ducked into an alley and pulled her in with him, pressing back against the wall as squad transporters raced by.

  “I don’t know, but he did.”

  “Whatever that reaper did, he didn’t do it for you. They never do anything for their target’s benefit.” Nate grasped her under the chin. Look at yourself. You don’t look any different.”

  Jocelyn pushed his hand away. “I don’t need to look at myself. I feel it.”

  Chapter Two

  “How long before it’s done?” The woman adjusted the communicator at her ear. A streetlight flickered. She glanced around and tucked her purse under her arm. “Oh, no. You promised it would be done today. I’ve spent a ton of credit on these repairs. Now I’m walking home again, from work at”—she glanced at her watch—“eleven?”

  Ian leaned against the side of the building, blending with the shadows as she approached. He could see her lovely red hair, even in the dim light. She’d left the strip club fifteen minutes before, making her way down the block. The stiletto boots she wore wouldn’t make her much of a challenge to catch, but at least he could have a little fun.

  He eyed her, taking in her shape, her height, and measuring her against another. The woman was tall and leggy, a real beauty, but not as pretty as his Jo.

  The stripper stopped. “No, goddamn it. I want a rental. I want someone here—now, to pick me up, and I want a transporter delivered to my address by morning. Oh, I know you didn’t just do that. Sonofabitch. You can’t hang up on me.”

  Ian pointed at the light and it spluttered and died.

  “Gwen….” He whispered her name, letting it carry across the darkened street.

  The woman lifted her gaze from the communicator and surveyed the area around her. “Hello?” She snapped the device shut and shifted her purse, moving under the next light and unknowingly coming closer. “Is someone there?”

  Ian pointed at another light on the opposite side of her. It hummed and snapped off, leaving the woman standing as though she were under a spotlight. She huddled under the beams as if they could protect her.

 
She spun around. “I’m calling the Enforcers.” She lifted her communicator and made a point of showing him as she dialed.

  Ian smiled. They’re already here, doll. She had spunk, but that wouldn’t save her. He focused on the device. It buzzed and popped. The woman smacked the side of the com and tried to dial again.

  With a cry of frustration, she dropped it in her purse and began to hustle down the street. She stumbled and grabbed the pole of another street lamp to catch her balance. Her chest rose and fell and her coat came open, showing off the skimpy top that accentuated her cleavage.

  “Where you going, Gwen?” He teleported in front of her, making sure to stay in the shadows where he remained cloaked. Tasty. Ian smiled and absorbed the energy from her fear.

  The woman backed up. “This isn’t funny. How do you know my name? Stalking is illegal.”

  “Is it?” He stepped under the light, letting her get a good look. And look she did, from the top of his head to his feet. At just over six-foot-eight, he always made quite the first impression.

  “Oh shit.” She swallowed and tugged her coat shut. Her eyes took on a glassy sheen. Tears? Anger? Both were equally intoxicating. “I haven’t done anything illegal.” She shook her head and began to quiver.

  “Come on, sweetheart. You can’t lie to me. You’re guilty of something.” Ian cocked his head and crossed his arms. “What’s a nice girl like you doing in a neighborhood like this?” He returned the favor, letting his gaze ride her from head to toe, taking his time while she squirmed. “Dressed in so little?” He’d known her life story from the moment she’d opened her mouth, but it was fun to play with his girls a bit.

  Her heart sped up. Ah, yes, I noticed.

  “I have rights. The way I’m dressed doesn’t give you a reason to detain me. Do you have a warrant?”

  Damn, he loved the torch-tops. “I do, now. You shouldn’t have opened your mouth.” He shifted closer, now only a couple of feet from her. “Been out partying, doll?”