Amurder? While Nolan had been locked in a closet? Ugh, he’d be a laughingstock. “I’m going to need your phone. And your car.”
The man didn’t look happy, but handed over a cell phone and a set of keys. Nolan pocketed both and went for the door. But as he opened it, he froze.
Grayson and St. James were tearing toward her Charger.
Nolan stayed in the doorway and watched as they spoke for a moment, then climbed into the car. St. James hit her lights and siren and then sped off.
There was no way St. James was willingly working with the man that hunted empaths.
Unless she thought she had a really good reason.
Like catching a murderer.
He was done trusting Cedrick Stone and Grayson and St. James and the rest of the circus. They neededrealmuscle to deal with empaths.
He began dialing on the borrowed phone. St. James’ car was property of the SPD and they’d be able to track it. Wherever St. James and Grayson were going, Nolan was going too—along with a SWAT team.
Or three.
“You said you could only think of two reasons Reece would run,” Jamey said, as she blew north on I-5 as fast as she could push her car. “What was the second one?”
“The obvious one,” said Grayson. “That he ran from people in danger to save his own skin.”
Jamey huffed. “I wish.”
“No,” said Grayson. “You don’t.” She glanced at him, and he added, “Because when an empath’s become capable of that, that’s when I step in.”
Her hackles rose. “That’s when you hunt them down, you mean.”
“When I have to.”
“I knew it.” She weaved around a sedan doing fifty-five in the far-left lane. “And you keep trying to tell me you’re just a specialist.”
“I do the things the world needs me to do.”
“The world doesn’t need to you to save it from Reece.”
“Not today, maybe.”
“Notever.” Jamey dropped the car to third, sped past an SUV.
“I can’t promise you that,” said Grayson. “You’ve seen the carnage a single corrupted empath can cause in the space of hours. You’ve seen why I have to stop them, why the Dead Man has to exist. I can’t take chances, I can’t be soft, or innocent people pay the price. So I’m trying to save your brother from corruption, but if I can’t, I’ll take him down, and I won’t hesitate.”
Her tires hit mud as she used the shoulder to pass an eighteen-wheeler. “Over my dead body.”
“If that’s what it takes.”
They rode without speaking for another minute, the siren loud and jarring.
Jamey cleared her throat. “I think you’re just pissed he stole your fancy truck.”
“It didn’t help,” said Grayson.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
We all go a little bad sometimes.
—tagline for the 1987 horror B movieMy Psycho Empath Girlfriend
