I’ll live through it. Any luck on my Latina girl?”
“Yeah.” Taylor nodded shortly. “She’s an amplifier, so this won’t be too hard on her, although hopefully we can keep physical contact between her and Vaughnne to a minimum.”
“An amplifier . . .” Joss sighed. Touching the cut inside his lip, he said, “The last thing I need is anything in my head amplified, Taylor. Do me a favor—tell her to wear long sleeves and keep her head locked down when we’re working.”
“Like I said . . . you’re not doing well,” Taylor repeated.
With a scowl, he said, “I’m doing what I have to do, right? Not like anybody else can do this damn job.” Reaching into the bag at his side, he pulled out the wrapped glass he’d lifted from the party. “I need a favor. There are prints on this . . . probably several of them. A server’s—most of them were male. But the prints I need are female. She’s British. Hopefully, there’s a fairly recent passport. I need info on her and I need it fast.”
Taylor’s gaze dropped to the bag and he took it, slid it over. “I have to give you a message. Jillian said she’s been trying to get through to you and you’re blocking her out.”
“And that would really stop her?” Joss muttered, taking another swig from his coffee.
“No.” Taylor shrugged. “She could probably plow through whatever shields you have and leave you a crying, whimpering mess, if she wanted. But I doubt she wants that.” He paused, blew out a breath. “The kid wants you to stop the ice. I don’t know what that means, but I assume you do. She says you’re not going to feel things you need to feel if you keep up the ice.”
Joss clenched his jaw. “Tell the kid I got this.”
“Crawford . . . I don’t think you do.” Taylor’s blue eyes searched Joss’s face. “It’s only been a few days and you look like hell. You’ve done harder jobs.”
Curling his lip, Joss hunched over his caffeine. “Don’t count on it.”
“Joss—”
“You got any idea what that kid is capable of?” he demanded, shooting Taylor a narrow look. The fury bubbling inside him had to come out, and it was better to focus it on anything other than what was really hurting him.
Storming out of the coffee shop, he headed for the stolen car he had to use. Even the car hurt to use now. All the screams, they were like ice picks, in his ears, in his skin, in his soul. The ghosts were colder, hanging on more heavily than they ever had.
And Dru . . .
For fuck’s sake . . . he felt his heart tremble. Shatter. How was this happening? After all this time, how was it even possible that it would happen this way? Finding her . . . like this . . .
Damn you, why couldn’t you have come into my life a year ago? Two years ago? Why now? I can’t have you now . . .
Dru . . .
He had to get away from her. Stumbling toward his car, he reached into his pocket. Dug out his keys. But a few feet away, he realized Jones was trailing along behind him. Veering off to the right, he circled around the restaurant. Once Jones caught up with him, he wheeled on him, the agony, the pressure, the pain spilling out of him.
“It’s almost like she’s got every gift I’ve ever had shoved in my head and it’s cranked up to the max,” he growled out, turning around to face Taylor. “And some shit I didn’t even know was possible, I bet. The only thing I don’t think she’s got is this mirror thing I do. I bet she can even see some of Dez’s ghosts.”
“She sees their echoes,” Taylor said quietly. “She saw them when she was just a kid. But they don’t speak to her, not the way they do to Dez.” Taylor studied him. “Do we need to pull you out? We know where they have Vaughnne. We can send word to her, let her prepare and—”
Joss swore. “No. One person on the inside isn’t enough.” He groaned, some of that knowledge flooding his head. Blood. So much of it. Screams. They’d break more bones, but there wouldn’t be a slow, subtle enjoyment this time. They’d dispose of the bodies as quickly as possible, because they wanted all traces gone. And hell, if they pulled him out, who would