Love in Electric Blue (Westlake Enterprises) (2 page)

BOOK: Love in Electric Blue (Westlake Enterprises)
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His rage warred with shame—that he’d succumbed to this, the beast that lived buried deep, that only Benjamin Carter had been able to bring out of him.

To his shock, a bead of greedy energy flickered within her. He sensed it rather than saw it, a ball of power licking at his. “Cut it the fuck out.” Didn’t she realize how close he was to killing her?

“Do your worst,” she goaded while he struggled to hold on to his precious control.

And why bother? She wanted him to hit her with it? She could have it.

“Fuck that. You want it? You got it.” Tired of holding himself back for
her
, confused and ashamed that his intense feelings hadn’t faded as they should have, J.D. let forth a burst of power that would instantly have killed a normal person.

Max and Jurek ducked as a thunderclap preceded an explosion of electricity. But Remy, his target, flew back into the wall with enough force to break through the drywall. Instead of succumbing to the blow, she slowly picked herself up and dusted off her arms, breathing hard.

Her eyes glowed neon, likely as bright as his own. Using their powers always made them into obvious freaks. Suddenly his world shifted, and everything looked slightly blue, patterns of energy coloring the world around him.

Christ, he hadn’t seen this in ten long years. Yet it felt like only yesterday when he’d played in the world they’d created for themselves, together. He wanted more, to let the river of energy swirl and take him up in it, to rally in the chaos of entropy.

“J.D.,” he heard Jurek yelling. “Shut it down. The wall is on fire. Shut it
down
.”

He didn’t care. He watched Remy, waiting to see what she’d do next. He could feel the concentrated power in her and realized she must have absorbed most of his energy. Her uncle had never understood how the pair of them could share so well. Unfortunately, it seemed that hadn’t faded with time.

Remy released the energy he’d rocketed into her, blowing several fuses while rays of light leaked from her eyes, forming a nimbus of energy that slowly settled over the room.

As the last of it left her, she gasped and fell to her knees.

Unable to help himself, he hurried to her side and brought her to her feet. But the moment his hands touched bare skin, a waterfall of energy passed back into her, recharging her.

The memories intensified. Her lovely smile, the feel of her soft mouth under his. So innocent, so young and stupid to believe anything he thought she’d been.

He forced himself to regain control. It wasn’t easy when everything inside him demanded he either kill her or take her, body and soul, until she made matters right again. Yet J.D. refused to be held hostage by his abilities
or
emotions. Not again.

He yanked his hand away and eventually the world righted itself. A few of the pillows on Max’s couch had caught fire, so he grabbed a pitcher of water from the desk to put out the flames before the overhead sprinklers took charge.

Remy looked ill, and he felt her distress as if it were his own.

“Are you…” He stopped himself and scowled.

“Is she all right?” Max asked, sounding shakier than J.D. had ever heard him. The man took a step in her direction before Jurek grabbed him and held him still.

“Damn it, she’s fine,” J.D. snapped. He refused to touch her again and shoved his hands in his pockets. “She’s a witch. And nothing kills a witch, not even fire,” he mocked before turning on his heel and storming out of the office before he blasted her again.

Or kissed her. Even worse.
Kissing—not killing—the woman who once left you to die. You are one fucked up idiot, for sure.

Chapter Two

Remy sagged against the wall, amazed at Joshua’s outburst. He’d worked so hard while imprisoned in her uncle’s laboratory not to hurt anyone. And he’d had good enough reason to kill back then.

The knowledge that he’d lost control must have enraged him. It saddened her as well, that she’d brought him to this state. Once again she’d caused him harm, and she felt no better knowing that now, as then, she hadn’t done it intentionally.

Before she could speak, Cole burst into the office and gaped. “
Holy shit,
” he exclaimed as he stared at the three of them.

“You can say that again,” Max said wryly. He moved to assist Remy, but she quickly righted herself, needing an immediate escape. Her eyes misted, and she had to leave before she broke down. Or worse, unleashed the energy she’d just absorbed.

Max shook his head, his expression compassionate. “Remy, we need to talk.”

She stepped around Cole, who made no move to stop her, and passed through the doorway. “I know, but not now, Max. Later,” she said over her shoulder and fled.

 

“Well, Max, that was more than interesting. You know, working with you Buchanans is never dull, I can tell you that,” Jurek quipped as he ran his hand through his hair.

Cole didn’t know what to think. He grabbed the nearly empty pitcher of water, hoping to pour himself a drink—and nearly fell to his knees when a burst of emotion hit him hard.

His psychometry—his ability to know things by touching objects—suddenly overwhelmed his conscious mind. J.D. must have handled the pitcher, because Cole got an eyeful.

What the fuck?
J.D. frying people with electricity shooting
from his palms
? Remy taking the hit and living and breathing afterward? The pure emotion driving J.D. and Remy was crazy—a dysfunctional history filled with love, hate, longing and guilt. What the hell had he stepped into?

Cole pulled himself together and shook his head free of the visions.

“Glad to know we amuse you,” Max answered Jurek. “We live to please. You okay, Cole?”

“Just great,” he rasped. “I love seeing my friends nearly fried to a crisp.” He staggered to one of the chairs not scorched and sank into it. “What the hell, man?”

Jurek raised a brow at Max. “Remy
Davis
? Really, Max. How long did you think you could hide her here before I found out?”

Cole glanced from one man to the other, aware of the intense energy that existed between the powerhouses. His uncle—the man behind Buchanan Investigations, a telepath with seemingly limitless power—and Jurek Westlake, a man as charming, mysterious and well-connected as the president.

“Cole, I need to talk to Jurek. Would you mind giving us some space?”
his uncle sent him.

“Hell no,”
he sent back along the mental path Max had created. Cole refused to budge until he had some answers.

Max sighed and took a seat behind his desk while Jurek sat next to Cole. “I knew you’d find out eventually. I’d planned on telling you, but not quite like this.”

“Entertaining as always.”

Max chuckled. “Did you see that? I knew Remy still had power, but I hadn’t realized J.D. had grown so strong.”

“Me either. Little shit’s been holding out on me.” Jurek stretched out his legs and rubbed the back of his neck. “I still feel tense from all this residual energy. It’s probably a good thing they hadn’t gotten together before now.”

“You can say that again.”

Cole felt the unspoken communication between the pair. They both turned toward him, saying nothing.

Aware both men intended to remain mute around him, Cole fumed. “Don’t think I won’t find out what the fuck that was all about.”

“Language, boy,” Max muttered.

Cole refused to acknowledge the gibe. To Jurek, he said, “J.D. knew her. They had a history.”

“A bad one, and one that’s not for me to share.”

“Or me,” Max chimed in.

Jurek deliberately changed the subject, not at all subtle about doing it. “I came today looking for some information I thought you might be able to provide.”

“Oh?” Max sat back.

“I’ve been getting correspondence from a wealthy oil capitalist down in Texas. Lee Brooks. The name ring a bell?”

When neither Cole nor Max showed any sign of recognition, he sighed and continued. “Brooks has been hinting that he believes his life is in danger, and he wants Westlake to aid him. He’s aware of our particular services.”

“You mean, he knows you’re not just a bunch of crazies spouting off about being psychic, but that your boys actually have skills, nearly on par with ours,” Cole taunted.

Jurek shook his head. “So competitive. But yes, that’s the gist of it. I don’t really care that people talk about what we do. While we don’t advertise our unique abilities, we don’t hide them either. Successes are what count, not the methods we use to achieve them.”

Max nodded. “I agree.”

“Great. We all agree. So what does your new client have to do with us?” Cole asked, tired of the polite airs and his uncle dancing around the issue.

Jurek answered without missing a beat. “I did some digging into Brooks.” He paused, and Max’s gaze sharpened. Whatever he was about to say interested his uncle, so Cole took note.

“You’ll never guess what I found,” Jurek said. “Brooks has a convoluted connection to the new and improved ISPP.”

Max sucked in a breath. “I thought you’d taken care of that ten years ago.”

“ISPP?” Cole frowned. That sounded familiar.

“The Institute for the Study of Psychic Phenomena,” Jurek explained. “We had them disbanded a decade ago. The ISPP was a small sect funded by the government that did experiments and tests on behalf of the defense department. They tried to use psychics as weapons to further our war efforts.”

“At the time it started, we were busy battling a rogue band of drug runners in South America, a perfect test bed for the ISPP’s experiments,” Max added bitterly.

Cole watched his uncle, more than curious about his animosity. Max sounded as if he had a personal stake in the ISPP.

Jurek cleared his throat. “Yes, well, the ISPP—or the Institute, as we used to call it—was created to help our country. Unfortunately, in later years it did more harm than good to the poor people dedicated to the project.” Jurek glanced at Max, and Cole understood.

His uncle had been hurt by the project. Enough said.

Jurek explained, “I’ve kept watch for any rumor the organization might start up again. The Institute had too many contacts and clout for me to think they’d totally gone away for good. As it was, our first attempt to shut them down failed.”

“Until Jurek got word from an inside source,” Max added. “A young girl afraid of her controlling uncle. A girl with an electric touch.”

“Remy. Damn,” Cole swore.

Jurek nodded. “I found a high-ranking military official who wasn’t tied to the Institute or its founders and made plans. He only needed enough evidence to put the ISPP down for good. When Remy contacted me, I knew we could end the organization.”

Max sighed. “Remy never told me this, but I read it from her from day one. You know I’m thorough about who we hire,” he said to Cole. “The girl needed time to hide and heal. Her uncle did terrible things to her for years. None of it was her fault.”

“Then why does J.D.…” He didn’t want to out his friend, but Cole wanted to know why his buddy hated her. Or rather, why he
wanted
to hate her so much. Because dislike hadn’t been the only thing he’d seen when he’d handled that pitcher.

“Not our concern.” Max shook his head. “What’s between J.D. and Remy is their business.” To Jurek, he added, “And I figured it was time they had some resolution. That’s why I called Remy in here to deal with you.”

Jurek snorted. “That, and she and J.D. are the ones who know Carter best. When I first met J.D., he was near death. Remy and her uncle were missing, and the Institute was burning down around us. There was so much chaos that night, we assumed Remy had died. We found enough evidence on one of the burned bodies to indicate Benjamin Carter’s death as well, so we closed the case.”

“Yet you’re here today,” Max murmured.

“Yes.” Jurek sighed. “From the information Brooks gave me, I think our mad Dr. Carter is still alive. I’d hoped that with your IT expert’s help, and J.D.’s, we might get some answers.” He rubbed his eyes. “Instead, I think all we have are more questions.”

 

 

J.D. passed Cole like a charging bull and left the building before he did more damage. Thankfully, Cole had had enough sense not to get involved. God knew what else he might have done. He exited the elevator of the Buchanan building into the parking garage and swore as he stalked to his car. In a burst of rage, he pounded the hood, and sparks cascaded down his fists.

Christ, he hadn’t been this out of control in years. Annoyed at his idiocy and the damage he’d done not just to Max’s office, but to his own car, he willed himself to calm down.

Remy.

He’d never thought to see her again, never thought he
could
see her again. He’d thought her dead. When Jurek had rescued him all those years ago, he’d been numbed by her betrayal and by the physical pain she’d inflicted to impress her
fucking uncle
. She’d nearly killed him that night.

But seeing her again… Her laughter and light, their shared happiness and love which had kept him going when he wanted nothing more than to fade away—it all came rushing back. Why? She’d been brutal. She’d hurt him badly. Yet he dwelled on her haunting beauty and the glow of her youth.

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