First Touch by Elsa Jade

Author:Elsa Jade
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Paranormal Action Thriller Romance
Publisher: Red Circle Ink
Published: 2023-02-23T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

At the deafening crack of the HK, Ronan dropped the deadweight from his shoulder and grabbed for Cecily.

She had taken a recklessly bold step forward, apparently deciding—probably rightly, but he was still going to yell at her—that their assailants were in non-lethal mode, at least for the moment. Which gave their own ragtag fugitive team a tactical edge. Again, just for the moment.

He wasn’t going to waste another nanosecond, not when she was standing guard ahead of him.

Had anyone ever done that? Not since he’d become FR:ECU’s guide controller. And not before that either, that he could remember.

His chest seized with fear for her, as if mirroring the pain of the electroshock weapon, and he snagged a fist in the leather jacket he’d draped around her, yanking her back through the protection of the doors.

“Two of them,” she said before he could reprimand her. “The second has a rifle and handgun. Where’s the third?”

“Coming around the back, if he has any training whatsoever,” Ronan said. “Except I closed up that service door and dropped a bar in the tracks, so he won’t be getting in that way.”

“But now we’re trapped in here,” Tennyson snarled.

“More of us than there are of them,” the hippie woman said. But she didn’t sound too confident.

Tennyson must’ve heard the hesitation too because his upper lip curled. “What’s your superpower? Kombucha that doesn’t taste like ass?”

“I’m psychic,” she said tartly. “And I foresee a foot in your ass in the near future.”

Tennyson scoffed. “Psychics aren’t real.”

But Ronan perked up. “You’re a prescient?”

She hunched her shoulders. “Uh, I’m an online psychic. Actually, was, past tense. Got laid off. Replaced by a chatbot. Also”—she sidelonged a vicious look at Tennyson—“I’m not actually psychic. Because whatever Mr. Aim ‘N Flame thinks about himself, none of this is real.”

Ronan wasn’t going to argue with her. Not when he could do the math. Three armed combatants and Anders against him and his little team of civilians made four against four, but the unwillingly prescient woman added up their side as superior forces?

What did she sense?

“Cecily, don’t shoot,” he warned her.

She’d been lingering near the opening, ready to fire, but staying low against the plate of old metal reinforcing the heavy door, and he wondered where she’d learned such defensiveness. She didn’t look at him. “I’m not letting them take me again, not gonna use me.”

“They won’t,” he promised. “Our backup is out there.”

“How do you…?” She darted a quick glance behind them. “Zahara really is psychic?”

“You’re a powerful remote viewer. Tennyson is pyrokinetic on a scale I’ve never seen before. I’m thinking Mr. King chose all his weapons wisely.”

“I am not a weapon,” she growled. “I paint greeting cards.”

At the moment, with the pale phosphorescence of his HK’s tritium night sights glowing in her narrowed eyes, she looked very much like a witchy warrior woman, all dressed in black and ready to paint the dark in blood and fire.

Fuck, no wonder he was entranced with her.

“Back up,” he said softly. “Retreat and draw them closer.

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