Slipping the Past by D.L. Jackson

Author:D.L. Jackson [Jackson, D.L.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Decadent Publishing Company, LLC
Published: 2014-07-23T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Jocelyn stepped outside and pulled her jacket closed. The wind howled like a pack of wolves. It dodged between the buildings, stalking her, making it impossible to avoid the chill. Across the way, a glow peeked from a crack in the curtain in Gabriel’s room. She could no longer sense the energy, but she knew without a doubt he waited for her.

Nate served the truth and it didn’t feel good. It felt horrible. Gabriel was a reaper. Reapers hunted criminals. She was a criminal and she couldn’t change that. But something inside her told her there was more to it. She hadn’t imagined the feelings she had around him, or the need and hunger festering inside her. If only she could remember more. She’d only pieces of a puzzle and the emotions of a love-sick sap.

She turned away from the room that beckoned and started down the street into the dark. She needed to clear her head and think. Around Gabriel, thinking was the last thing she could do. She’d be okay alone for a few moments.

Even without her psychic abilities, she could protect herself. Somewhere, in one of her past lives, she’d learned grappling, hand-to-hand combat with and without knives, and unbelievably, acrobatics.

She never knew she had the ability until a man attacked her in a dark alley while she picked through the rubbish. She’d slammed him to the pavement so fast he hadn’t a chance to grab her with the other hand. When he pulled a knife, she took that, too, and stuck him in the shoulder as a reward for trying. In the process of the attack, she’d done a back flip, dodged the blade, and landed a spinning kick to his jaw.

At the time it had unnerved her, but in the end she’d been glad for the training, thankful for whoever had the insight to think she’d need it. She’d searched her memories of past dreams and visions and still couldn’t connect the one that led to her skills.

A dog started barking in the distance. Jocelyn tightened her grip on her lapels, holding her coat shut at her throat. She started gnawing on the cuff, caught herself, and stopped. In her sleep, she’d managed to mangle the end of one of the sleeves on Gabriel’s coat like a dog’s chew-toy, and awoken to see the damage. Nervous habits were hard to kick, and recently she’d a lot to be nervous about. She didn’t need to trash another jacket.

Her dreams, of late, were too quiet. Gone were the vivid colors of her visions, replaced with dancing pigs and clowns in grays, blacks, and whites. Unrealistic, bizarre, and nothing she’d experienced before. Before, her dreams were real, like a twisted home holo-movie, complete with death and dismemberment. She could almost guarantee she’d see blood when she closed her eyes. The peaceful, quirky dreams she had now, scared her.

She’d take the nightmares any day. At least they were real.

The barking dog began to howl, long and painful cries. Jocelyn stopped and tipped her head to listen.

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