Free Rush (Phoenix Rising) by Joan Swan Page A

to go dry all over again.
    “This isn’t fair,” she moaned, closing her eyes and sinking into a ball. Still, her mind struggled with questions from every angle. Pain built inside her head until she couldn’t think. Expanded in her chest until she could barely breathe.
    “It’s okay, sweetheart,” Teague murmured. “I’ve got you.” He dragged her up from the floor and lifted her into his arms. “Easy now, sweetheart.”
    The movement brought on a wave of nausea. Jessica moaned, squeezed her eyes tight and pressed her mouth against Teague’s shoulder.
    “One minute,” Teague said, “and I’ll get you to the car.”
    Car? She pried her eyes open, but couldn’t focus on anything, which made her head swim again.
    “Fuck.” She clamped her head between her palms and squeezed her eyes tight again. “My head.”
    “Hold on, sweetheart.” He jostled her down stairs. “Just hold on.”
    “Teague.” The splitting sensation grew worse by the second. She’d never experienced this kind of sharp, biting, all-consuming pain. “ Stop, damn it!”
    They passed from dry warmth into freezing rain. Jessica gasped and curled into Teague. The movement sent the pain in her head stabbing down her neck. “I hate you.”
    “I know,” he said. “I’m a prick. Ask anyone.”
    “He is,” Keira said.
    “Is your name anyone?” Teague asked. “I think not.”
    He stepped inside a darkened space and the rain stopped pelting Jessica. Teague eased her into a seat and she forced her eyes open to slits, but everything spun. They were in the back of a vehicle; that much she knew.
    “What’s happening to me?” She couldn’t clearly remember why Keira and Teague were there.
    “We’ll talk in a second.” Teague leaned over and pulled a seatbelt across her body. “Let me get your head settled first.”
    The engine rumbled and they started moving.
    “Teague,” Keira said from the front, “brace her. I’ve got two shadows I need to lose.”
    Groaning, Jessica fisted her wet hair and planted her elbows on her knees. There was no way she could handle a swerving car right now.
    “Come here.” Teague gripped her shoulders and turned her toward him.
    He sandwiched her knees between his, then pried her hands away from her head. An instant later, his big palms and long fingers covered her skull. Warmth instantly penetrated her head. And like an eraser, Teague’s touch wiped out the torment, calmed overzealous nerves and relaxed bunched muscles. Blood rushed into her head, opening constricted vessels and feeding her brain.
    The jostle of the vehicle as Keira braked, turned, gunned it, swerved and then did it all over and over again didn’t cause even a ripple of discomfort. Without Teague, Jessica would have been curled on the floor, puking.
    She didn’t understand how Teague was able to heal with his hands, but she’d heard about the positive thermo-kinetic effects from nearly every member of the team, his own wife and daughter included. Now, she appreciated them firsthand.
    Chancing a glance through her fingers, she saw Keira in the driver’s seat and Teague next to her in the back of an SUV. The relief Teague had brought left her with a migraine-type hangover, but allowed brain cells to connect.
    “What just happened?” She stood on the cliff edge of sanity. “Someone might want to start explaining before I go postal.”
    “Tell us what you saw, Jess,” Teague said, his voice soothing, but insistent. “Let’s start there.”
    “Let’s start with that sleazy stunt, Teague,” Jessica said, her head too heavy to lift from the seat.
    He shrugged, but sincere regret showed in his eyes. “It was a last resort, honey. I was desperate.”
    Desperate people did desperate things. Jessica knew that fact all too well.
    “It was still wrong.” But she couldn’t stay mad about it. She hurt too much—physically, mentally and emotionally. Jessica leaned forward in her seat and rested her head in her hands. “Where are