Jackson crouched at the corner of Smith and Manheim behind a decorative set of trees in pots. He tried to scope out the situation when really he just wanted to bust in and kick some ass.
Grabbing Lissa’s hand, he pulled her down beside him. “Keep a sharp eye out. Let me know if you see anything.”
She jerked her hand out of his and punched him in the shoulder, right where the tattoo gun had been earlier. It hurt like a bitch, but he kept his groan in, barely.
“If you’d use the power from that tattoo, we wouldn’t have to sneak around. You could be up in that room already, surprising the hell out of whoever has Garrett.”
Whipping his head around, he sent her a glare that should have stopped her in her tracks, but Lissa was not a woman to be intimidated. Never had been.
“Yeah, you heard me. You could be in there taking care of business.”
“I don’t want it. Now be quiet so I can assess what’s going on. Don’t make me regret that I brought you with me when you could have been searching for Dory.”
Her lips clamped into a flat line, but she didn’t say anything more.
No noise came from the run-down house, a little saltbox from the early 1800s whose heyday had come and gone decades ago. No shadows crossed in front of the drawn shades. He’d thought about calling Garrett back, but if his attackers hadn’t figured out he had a phone on him, Jackson didn’t want to be the one to alert them.
For a brief moment he did consider going invisible. Lissa was right, after all. It would make saving his friend a snap. But he didn’t want the responsibility of the power, and he certainly didn’t want to risk the agony Garrett’s abilities cost him. Lissa might think it wouldn’t happen, but if Jackson had learned one thing in life, it was that there were always consequences.
“You keep watch out here. See if you can get ahold of Dory. We have to know where she is.… Whatever happened, Garrett is going to need her.”
Lissa’s cell phone was already in her hand when he made a dash for the back of the house, which he figured was the safest way to enter.
The kitchen door was unlocked. He entered and closed the door as quietly as possible behind him. The house was laid out like many he’d seen before, with the kitchen taking up the back of the house and two rooms up front. Depending on the layout, the staircase would probably be in the middle. From the placement of the windows, though, he knew it was going to be on his left. Being in construction had its perks.
No boards creaked under his feet, thankfully. He wondered briefly if his invisibility power would mask sounds, too, or just his appearance. He shook the thought off. He wasn’t going to use it, so it didn’t matter.
The stairwell was indeed on his left. He used it as cover to peek into the front room. Empty. He’d figured as much, but better safe than sorry. The last thing he wanted was to give someone an opportunity to jump him from behind.
The stairs weren’t as quiet as the kitchen floor, and each squeak set his nerves on edge until he broke into a run and raced to the second floor. If anyone was here, they would have heard him by now, so there was no point in favoring stealth over speed.
When he reached the landing, he burst through the first door to his right and found nothing. Well, shit. To his left was another door and, given the layout, there would probably be one more door down the hallway to the right. One would have to be a bathroom, the other a bedroom. Which should he check first? Jackson had rarely let indecision hold him in its grip, and he wasn’t about to start now.
The bedroom held nothing but some old crumpled trash and a plump purple chair. The house obviously wasn’t in use.
That left the bathroom. He had no idea what he’d find, but hanging back and thinking wasn’t about to give him the answers he needed.
Taking the door with his shoulder, he busted it in.
It wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but it