“Ash has some special skills,” Summer said. “She’s always been highly sensitive to energy.”
Ash went into the room Summer had directed her to, upstairs at the fort. She set her bag down on the dresser. She’d toured all the rooms in the fort weeks ago with Summer that day she and Kiera had come out for a pool party. Sam’s fort was a massive, sprawling place.
She opened the double French doors. A cold March wind blew across the wide patio. Sam had designed every inch of his home in exquisite detail. The view from this side of the fort looked east. The wooden portico would be perfect in the summer to break the relentless sunshine, letting light—but not the blazing sun—into the bedrooms. There were two sitting areas, separated by a cluster of blue ceramic pots. The pots were only filled with dirt at the moment, but when the warm weather came in, they’d be the perfect complement to the peach stucco that was everywhere. Ash smiled, seeing Summer’s magic touch at work.
The room next to the guest suite Ash was using had closed French doors. Summer had said the guys and Selena were all at work somewhere. Ash hadn’t paid close attention. She was just glad that she was going to get some quality time with Summer and Kiera; they’d promised to help her finalize her travel plans for later that month. She already had her ticket to Colombia, but she had a whole week of plans to make for her time there.
Something drew Ash to the closed French doors of the next room. She was an overly curious person, a shortcoming that had gotten her into plenty of awkward spots. She stepped into the room. It was also empty, but unlike hers, this one was full of personality. The walls were painted white, a nice break from the peachy stucco color in so much of the house. A big oil painting of a tropical ocean scene was on the wall opposite the king bed. A similar scene, though longer and narrower, was hung over the headboard. The wooden headboard itself looked like bleached sea wood left in its natural taupe color. The bed had seafoam-colored sheets with a massive white duvet cover. A navy-blue throw made a dark stripe across the foot of the bed. On either side of the bed, wide taupe carpet softened the floor. It had a white line patterned like a rope bordering it.
This room was so much more inviting than hers. She wished she’d picked it. Maybe she could ask Summer if she’d mind making the room switch.
For no reason at all, other than an overwhelming need to exist in that energy space, Ash lay down on the bed. The cool cotton of the duvet cover was soothing. She shut her eyes, meaning to just take a breath. Instead, she heard the crashing of waves and smelled the delicious salt air that came on a stiff breeze. She opened her eyes and realized she was standing close to the edge of a sea cliff. The ocean was probably four stories below where she stood. The sky was azure blue, its bright color reflected on the water. Huge white cotton-ball clouds, with their soft, rounded edges, floated past, in no hurry to go anywhere.
Ash looked around, seeing a green slope behind her on the other side of a road. Wherever she was, it was remote and quite isolated. She looked back at the water.
“You aren’t supposed to be here,” a man said just off to her side.
She looked at him, not having noticed him before. He was a big guy, tall, muscular, the kind that probably spent hours flipping tractor tires at the gym. His dark blond hair was wavy to the point of being curly. His lips were rounded in a pleasing way. His skin rocked a summer tan. He was clean-shaven and well groomed, but there was an edge about him that screamed a warning.
He was close enough that she could see his khaki eyes. She tilted her head, realizing their unusual color could be pale green or brown, depending on the light.
Funny, she hadn’t remembered moving closer to him, but there she was, almost nose to nose.
What had he done or experienced or seen that put such sharpness in his eyes? She wondered if she touched him, would she see his secrets?
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said. She was surprised by his Australian accent.
“Where are we?”
“Valle de Lágrimas.” He stared down at the ocean. “At the edge of death.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Nor do I.”
“Am I dreaming?”
“No. You’re in my nightmare.”
“But it’s beautiful here.”
“Beauty’s just one side of the knife.”
Ash tried to smile. It was probably more of a grimace. Maybe this was a nightmare. She looked around again. Standing at the top of the hill behind them was a red, glowing man. Or phantom.
The man next to her followed her gaze and seemed to know what that thing was. He was angry when his eyes met hers next.
“You. It’s you.”
“What’s me?”
“You’re the one.”
That made no sense to her, but the undercurrent of a threat was as real as a riptide current waiting to suck her under. “Are you going to kill me?”
The man seemed to stare right through her. “Probably.”
She looked back at the water. “I don’t want to die yet.” He reached over and took her hand in his. His palm was warm and tough-skinned, his hand large. She steeled herself for what she would feel, but the only thing that came through his touch was a pervasive sense of peace, not the assault of disturbing visions and burdensome knowledge that often accompanied such things.
He was peace to her, and he was going to kill her.
“I’ll try to protect you,” he said, as if he knew her thoughts.
She looked up into his eyes and felt the strangest exchange of energy. “I wish you were real.”
“I am real. Tell me your name. I’ll find you.”
She did.
“Ashlyn,” he said, testing the feel of her name on his tongue.
She loved the sound of his voice.
“I know you.” He smiled, a minor grin at first, then it widened into a full expression that almost touched his sad eyes. He lifted his free hand to her cheek, watching the path his fingers made along the side of her face. A puff of wind blew her hair every which way, covering her face.
Valle de Lágrimas. The words, whispered in his voice, were haunting.
When she pushed her hair away, she realized she was alone. She hadn’t asked his name. He’d said he’d find her, which was good, because there was no way she could ever find him now, knowing nothing about him. She felt the loss of him as keenly as if she’d truly lost a friend.
Valle de Lágrimas. What did that mean? Had he said that to her or was it something the dream caused her to think? Or had that been where they were standing? She looked up at the red phantom on the hill.
It was still there, still glowing, staring right at her.
Summer jogged upstairs, looking for Ash. They only had a few hours together before the guys finished work for the day. She’d have to share her friends then, for a little while, anyway. She missed the days she, Ash, and Kiera could hang out together. The old days. So much had changed—in magical and wonderful ways, but that change had come at the cost of time with her friends.
She saw Ash’s bag in the guest room, but there was no Ash in sight. The double French doors were open to the balcony. Summer went out there, then saw the doors to Merc’s room open.
Summer rushed inside. Sam had told her that Merc had been hurt during his trip to Colombia. He was recovering and wasn’t to be disturbed. Gosh, she hoped Ash hadn’t gone in there.
Guerre, the team’s healer, was standing at the foot of Merc’s bed. Merc was asleep under the covers…and Ash was asleep next to him, on top of the covers.
Oh. No. This wasn’t good. “I’m sorry,” Summer whispered to Guerre as she hurried to the side of the bed so she could rouse Ash.
Guerre stopped her. “Leave her.”
“She shouldn’t have come in here.”
“But she did. And she has connected with Merc in a way none of us have been able to for a while. He’s shut us all out—and has for weeks.”
Summer folded her arms and stared at her friend. “I don’t underst
and.”
“None of us do. We just live what comes.”
Summer frowned. “She saw Lautaro’s projection downstairs.”
“I know.”
“That was unexpected.” She looked at Guerre. “How did that happen? Is it because she’s highly sensitive?”
Guerre nodded. “Everything mutants do can also be done by regulars. They just need to tune in to that skill. Maybe she has. Maybe that’s how she’s entered Merc’s coma state.”
That was worrisome. Summer had been a mutant for only a short while, but it was long enough to know there were places a person could go in their mind and not come out of. “Is Ash safe?”
“Yes.”
“Sam will be upset she came in here.”
Guerre smiled. “Sam’s not the boss of the world.”
“Is Merc getting better?”
“His body is healing. His mind is recovering. His spirit is—scarred.” Guerre looked at Summer. “I’m glad Ash came over today. He needed her.”
Merc’s hand slipped across the duvet to grip Ash’s. Oh, no. No, no. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t happen. If Merc and Ash got together, everything would change.
But everything had already changed. Would it be so awful to have Ash with her on this side of their reality? Kiera already knew much of the world she and Sam lived in. It would be great to have Ash know everything too.
“She’s rousing,” Guerre said. “You should go. I’ve hidden Merc and myself. She thinks this is an empty room.”
Summer nodded and left through the hall door. When she heard Ash back in her own room, Summer knocked and went in.
Ash was standing just inside the closed double doors, looking confused.
“There you are!” Summer said cheerily. “All settled?”
“Yeah.” Ash looked dazed.
“Are you all right?”
Ash rubbed her arms. “I guess so. I just feel really tired.”
“Do you want to rest before we visit?” Summer smiled. “This is your weekend too.”
Ash shook her head. “No. Summer, you know how I can sometimes get stories from things I touch? Well, I just had a whopper of one happen.”
“Oh? Tell me.”
“I had a vision of a man standing at the edge of a cliff overlooking a beautiful ocean cove. Looked—felt—tropical.”
“What did the man look like?”
Ash told her, perfectly describing Merc. She clasped her hands and held them against her chest, rubbing one over the other. “He touched me. I don’t even know him, or know if he’s real, but we connected in a visceral way. He said he would find me.”
Summer went over to give Ash a hug. “I felt just that way about Sam. As soon as I met him, it seemed I knew him forever. I couldn’t stand being apart from him. Who knows why these things happen?”
“Do you think it was real?”
Summer sighed. “Sometimes, I’m not at all sure what’s real. I suppose if it felt real, then it was real, even if it’s just your mind playing out a scenario it wants you to learn something from.”
“Does that happen to you?”
“You wouldn’t believe the tricks my mind does.”
Ash chuckled and shook off the lingering effects of her vision, letting her energy return to normal. “Never mind about it. I don’t want to waste a minute of our time. Let me just wash my face. Wait here. I have so much to go over with you and Kiera about ideas for my trip.” She went into the bathroom, calling out, “And I know that if I don’t give you my itinerary and you happen to not hear from me, you’ll totally panic if you don’t know where to look for me.”
“Of course I would. You never travel to the gentle corners of the world.”
Ash looked up from the hand towel she held to her face, grinning. “Where’s the excitement in that?”
Liege met with Lautaro while Summer was busy with Ashlyn. Guerre was upstairs with Merc. Bastion and Selena were in Wyoming for the weekend. And Acier was at his shop in town. So it was just the two of them in his den.
“Interesting Summer’s friend could see me,” Lautaro said, his dark eyes sparkling with curiosity.
Liege leaned against his desk and folded his arms. “It is. I have to admit I’m curious about her abilities.”
“I can learn more when she comes out to visit the plantation.”
“Tell me how things were in the village?”
Lautaro shook his head. “I’ve never seen such a mess. Merc did nothing to hide himself from the regulars. I had to scramble their memories of him, as there was no way to block the impact he had on the town.”
“Why not?”
Lautaro stared at Liege. It was uncanny, given that Lautaro wasn’t even in the room. The Colombian had a big energy. His mind was an agile thing that outpaced many a mutant and regular’s cognitive abilities.
“Did you know that your man can set curses?”
“No.”
“Well, he can. He was setting those suckers out like candy.”
“Great. Could you undo them?”
“No. And apparently, he couldn’t either. You know those mass graves that were used before the peace talks were started? The ones the government recently investigated? Well, he’s well on his way to having them fill back up.”
“Shit. That’s why he kept us blocked from him.”
“I understand from the village priest, who made it a habit to spy on Merc, that he tried several times to revoke the curse, to no avail. And that’s not all. There are three instances of particularly violent gang members being consigned to end their lives sitting in chairs set in front of gang murals that Merc had painted over. They died and are decomposing—still sitting in those chairs. Village pigs and dogs have been chowing down on them, but even as their corpses lose structural integrity, the skeletons stay intact. And while animals and insects can interact with them, humans can’t.”
Liege bent his head and covered his eyes. Mutants, by their very nature, were exposed to the worst of what was possible in life. But no matter what a mutant saw or experienced, he was not to interfere with the behaviors and choices of regulars.
Merc broke every rule Liege had laid down.
“Maybe some rules are meant to be broken,” Lautaro said.
“Not these. If he had complied, you wouldn’t have needed to clean up after him.”
“If he hadn’t done what he did, how would we know he had the skill to set curses? That’s never surfaced among other Legionnaires.”
“And what good is a skill like that?” Liege asked.
“We’ll have to wait and see. Perhaps it’s one we can use against the Omnis—mutant or otherwise.”
“And where does it end? Are we allowed to act against Omni regulars but not gang regulars? Is it only civilian regulars that we care to protect? What happens when they violate some moral code we believe in?” Liege shook his head. “The line exists for a reason.”
“And I believe everything happens for a reason.”
“Do you? Is that a recent belief?” Fuck. Liege knew that was a low blow. There was no reason sufficient to explain Lautaro’s wife’s death, but if he’d come to a place of peace about it, Liege shouldn’t have used it to kick him in the gut. “Sorry. That was cruel.”
Lautaro shrugged. “I get it. There’s no history for mutants to follow, no norm we can keep as an ideal. All of this is still too new. But nonetheless, I am beginning to think things do happen for a reason. Like, why did you send Merc down to connect with Santo? Why not one of the other guys you have up here? Why not have me handle it?”
“I don’t know.” Liege frowned. “I felt that Merc was the right one for the task.”
“See? Things happen for a reason.”
“Maybe so, maybe not. How did the villagers react to what Merc did?”
“As you might expect. They think he was a divine messenger sent to rid them of their violent gang infestation. Apparently, the village has petitioned the priest to ask the church to send investigators
out to validate Merc’s actions as miracles.”
“Aw, hell. And you couldn’t wipe that from their minds?”
“Not with the death pits continuing to fill. Not with the three dead men sitting in place with nothing binding them to their chairs. Not with any of a handful of other minor miracles he made happen.”
“What about the coca works and the mine?” Liege asked.
“That was a good find. There are hundreds, maybe thousands, of both throughout the jungle. As the government finds one and shuts it down, another resumes operations. But my gut’s telling me something is off about that mine. It’s difficult to penetrate the energetic blocks the Omnis have set around it. Maybe they’re just hungry for the money both operations at the site offer. But maybe something else is going on. The presence of the ghouls confirms our friend Brett Flynn’s involved. It may be a side project he’s trying to keep under the radar from his good old papa.”
“We need to get Flynn’s crew out of there so we can hand it over to the government to deal with.”
Ash tucked her feet up under her on one of the loveseats in the greenhouse, setting her laptop on the chair’s arm. Bastion had brought dinner out to them at a private table next to the pool. Everyone else in the fort was hanging around someplace else, giving them their night together.
The three of them had just finished diner. Ash wanted to wrap up her trip plan so that they could all go for a swim.
Valle de Lágrimas.
Those words flitted through her mind again. Valley of Tears. That sounded like a horrible place. She searched it up on the web. To her surprise, it was indeed a town in Colombia. Weird that she’d had a vision about it. If this place existed, did that mean the man she’d seen also existed?
Contrary to the village’s name, it looked like a stunning place, set in the jungle on the west side of the country—a few miles inland from the ocean.
O-Men: Liege's Legion - Merc Page 6
