“Titusville,” David said. He turned right, following the long line of cars entering the empty field that doubled as a temporary parking lot. He gave the attendant a five, tossed the parking pass on the dashboard, and kept going.
“What the hell are we doing in Titusville?”
“Getting ready for our twelve-fifteen.” He took a spot at the far end of the lot, near the side exit. After cutting the engine, he reached under the seat and pulled out a battered Dolphins cap. “Come on, let’s roll.”
With a groan, Adam stumbled out of the car. He cursed under his breath but fell in line beside David, heading toward the main entrance.
“Why are we here so early?” Adam asked, clearly annoyed. He glanced down to check the time on his phone. “Shit, it’s only a little after ten. I could have gotten a couple extra hours sleep.”
“That’s your fault for staying out so damn late getting drunk as a skunk.”
“What does that have to do with being two hours early for a job?”
“Nothing.”
As they approached the gates, David took in the sights and sounds of the TICO AirShow.
The Space Coast Airport was closed to commercial air traffic for the day, allowing for the display of dozens of aircraft from almost every era in modern aviation history, from World War II to present. Vendors sold food, drinks, and souvenirs while country music blared in the distance, reminding everyone how proud they were to be an American.
David pulled out his wallet and paid for two tickets, handing one to Adam. Once inside, he took pity on his trainee and bought him a Coke, hoping the infusion of caffeine would kick his ass into gear.
“Thanks,” Adam said, downing half the can in one gulp. “You never did say why we got here so early.”
“Maybe I happen to like air shows,” David replied, leading Adam toward the first plane on display.
Actually, he’d come early so he could scope out the area. Crowded scenes like this were a major pain in the ass. Not only did crowds make it more difficult to track the mark, but it was damn near impossible to collect the soul without some idiot sticking his nose in your business. The more familiar you were with the area, the quicker you could get in and out without drawing unnecessary attention.
But still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t take a little time to appreciate the modern wonders of aeronautical engineering.
David stopped a few yards shy of an A-10 Thunderbolt, appreciating the brilliance of a finely constructed piece of machinery. Designed to provide low altitude air support, the twin-engine jet was heavily armored and equipped with a rotary cannon capable of taking out enemy tanks. A member of the flight crew stood near the nose, talking with folks as they stopped to ask questions.
“Look at this baby. They call her the Warthog because she’s so damn ugly, but she’s one of the toughest planes in the Air Force. We could have used some of these in Korea.”
“You’re kidding me,” Adam said, glaring at David through bloodshot eyes. “You dragged my ass out of bed early so you could ogle planes?”
David shot Adam a dirty look. Arriving early to an appointment wouldn’t normally bother the kid … if he were sober. He recognized the problem for what it was and kicked himself for not doing something about it earlier.
Oh well, no time like the present.
“You’ve got to watch the drinking, kid. I don’t mind you blowing off a little steam now and then, but I need you functional.”
“I am functional.”
“You’re barely coherent.” To prove his point David poked Adam in the chest, watching him weave a little before catching his balance.
“Okay, so maybe I had a little too much to drink last night. I can handle it.”
“I’m sure you can. You’re going to prove it to me by going dry for the next week. Starting now.”
Adam’s jaw dropped. “You’re shitting me, right?”
“I shit you not.” A family of four walked past, forcing David to hold his tongue until they were safely out of earshot. “Until you’re fully trained you’re on my watch. I won’t have you getting hammered every night.”
“Okay, Dad,” Adam said, his voice a sarcastic drawl.
They made their way down the field, taking in the assortment of vintage and modern aircraft, loosely grouped by era. It was amazing, the advances in technology. Jets capable of breaking the speed barrier. Helicopters equipped with reinforced armor, yet nimble enough for urban street combat. Unmanned drones used to search for terrorists in the most desolate parts of Iraq and Afghanistan.
“You know, you never did tell me where you went off to Friday night,” Adam said as they approached the next cluster of aircraft. He gave David an expectant look, as if waiting for an answer. When David remained silent, he asked, “Well? Where were you?”
“Out,” David replied as he read the placard for an F-8 Crusader.
“No shit. Seriously, where were you?”
“None of your fucking business.”
Adam grinned, unfazed by the warning in David’s voice. “Were you out getting some action?” When David didn’t answer, he let out a bark of laughter. “I knew it! No wonder you were in such a hurry to get me out the door.”
“I wanted to make sure you weren’t late,” David said, which was partially true. He’d also wanted Adam out the door before Sarah came over. “Dmitri’s big on punctuality.”
Adam rolled his eyes, clearly not buying David’s line of bullshit. “Whatever. So who’s the lucky lady? Anyone I know?”
Sure, but he wasn’t about to admit it. The kid would find out soon enough—probably had a good idea already—but until then he’d rather keep his personal life private. “I told you, it’s none of your business.”
“Oh come on, throw me a bone. I told you all about what happened between me and Ruby.”
“And I told you I didn’t want to know. It took me the better part of a week to get those images out of my brain.”
Adam laughed. “All right, I’ll let it go … for now. But I’m going to get it out of you sooner or later.”
“Good luck.”
The air show opened about an hour later with a demonstration by the U.S. Army parachute team, the Golden Knights. The twelve-member team jumped out of the plane, creating several geometric formations before pulling their chutes and gliding to a safe landing at the end of the field.
The Golden Knights were followed by a pair of biplanes. Decorated to look like World War I aircraft, the planes performed a series of carefully choreographed aerial maneuvers, simulating a dogfight. At one point the Allied plane went into a death drop, plummeting toward earth at a breathtaking speed. The pilot pulled out of the dive at the last possible second, skimming dangerously close to the runway as the crowd erupted with cheers and applause.
David glanced down at his watch. 11:55. Twenty minutes to go. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the low-grade vibration haunting the air. It was originating from the far end of the runway, near a densely wooded area. He wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. On the plus side, there wouldn’t be much in the way of crowds to deal with. But on the other hand, he’d have to find a way past security without being noticed.
“This way,” he told Adam, motioning toward the north end of the exhibit.
Six Navy jets soared overhead in tight formation, much to the delight of the spectators below. The planes pulled into a sharp incline before splitting off in different directions. The two groups looped around and streaked toward each other, their paths crossing so closely it was a wonder they didn’t collide.
David came to an abrupt stop at the end of the exhibit, causing Adam to almost bang into him.
“What’s wrong?” Adam asked, his eyes searching the crowd.
David didn’t answer. Instead, he stared at the F-86 Sabre before him, remembering the last time he’d seen one up close and personal.
“They used to fly these in Korea,” David said. The years peeled away and he remembered another lifetime, w
hen he was young and mortal and only cared about getting home to his family in time for Christmas.
Fast and maneuverable, the compact jets gave the Soviet MiGs a run for the money back in the day. They were a familiar presence on the front lines, safeguarding the skies from enemy attack. He’d always felt a little bit safer whenever he spotted one overhead.
For a moment he wished he’d brought Sarah along, so he could share this rare slice of nostalgia, to show her a part of who he used to be. Maybe he’d take her next year, if he didn’t have any appointments.
“Ain’t she a beauty?”
David blinked, pulling himself back to the here and now. The elderly man speaking to him was decked out in full flight gear circa 1950, complete with the insignia of the Air Force 4th Fighter-Interceptor Wing. For a man his age he looked amazingly spry, standing tall and proud beside the vintage plane.
“She flew over a hundred fifty missions during the Korean War,” the man continued, his voice filled with pride. “Her pilot was credited with taking down twenty-four MiGs.”
“Impressive.” David ran a hand over the tip of the wing. Even though he’d seen the planes take to the sky countless times, this was the first time he’d actually seen one up close. “I … my grandfather served in Korea.”
“Oh really? What branch?”
“Army.”
“Which unit?”
“I forget,” David said, not wanting to get sucked into a prolonged conversation about the past. Too much talk led to nothing but bad memories, ones he didn’t feel like rehashing with a complete stranger. “He passed away a long time ago.”
Their discussion was cut short by the deafening roar overhead as the Navy Blue Angels made another pass over the airfield. They skillfully merged into a diamond formation, with two of the jets flipping into an inverted position.
David didn’t need to rely on death’s signal to know something bad was about to happen. His body tensed, filled with the apprehension of knowing a life was approaching its expiration.
Adam noticed it, too, his body going rigid while his eyes focused skyward.
The F/A-18 Hornets split off into two groups again, peeling away from the main runway in preparation for their next maneuver. What happened next was anybody’s guess. Maybe the wind shifted, or one of the pilots made a tactical error. No matter the cause, the wing of the number two jet clipped the number four, sending both planes spinning out of control. The number four pilot ejected seconds before impact, his parachute opening almost immediately, ensuring his escape from certain death. His jet slammed into the runway below, a fiery explosion of red and yellow.
Meanwhile, the other pilot fought to regain control of his jet, a battle he was destined to lose. To his credit, he somehow managed to keep the plane from crashing into the crowd. The jet veered wide right, crashing into the forest at an ungodly speed.
“Holy shit,” Adam said, eyes wide and mouth dropped open.
The wail of sirens pierced the air as emergency vehicles raced toward the wreckage on the runway. The crowd watched in stunned silence as firefighters quickly formed a perimeter around the downed jet, battling the fire with flame-retardant foam. The ejected pilot landed in a field about a hundred yards away, some of the crowd applauding when his feet touched ground. “Let’s go,” David said, using the distraction to slip into the forest undetected.
Already, thick black smoke was billowing through the canopy of cypress trees, the stench of jet fuel thick in the air. It would take time for rescue crews to cut a wide enough path through the dense brush to reach the wreckage. With luck, David and Adam would be long gone before they arrived.
“There he is.” Adam pointed toward a smoldering chunk of twisted metal.
Already, the soul had separated from its body, lost and alone amongst the burning wreckage. He still retained his human form, not quite aware of the fact he was no longer alive.
Adam frowned, as if mentally preparing for the task ahead.
“No, I’ll get it,” David said, a hand on Adam’s shoulder to stop his advance.
“It’s okay, really,” Adam said. “I can handle it.”
“I know you can.” David’s focus locked on the wayward soul. He felt the pull of camaraderie, the need to help a fellow soldier complete the final leg of his journey. “But I want to do this one.”
Adam’s gaze traveled from David to the pilot, nodding with understanding over David’s sudden desire to collect the soul. “Oh. Okay.”
Squaring his shoulders, David moved toward the fallen pilot. He stopped a few feet short, standing at attention. When the soul turned to face him, he gave a heartfelt salute.
“Time to go home, sir.”
That night, David experienced a breakthrough of sorts. Instead of shutting down his emotions, he shared them with Sarah. He told her about the air show, and Adam’s newly imposed sobriety, and the unfortunate pilot who died in the line of duty. He described how it had felt to absorb the soul, to feel the rush of confusion and anguish associated with the newly deceased.
It was therapeutic in a way, this cathartic purging of the demons of his psyche. And as soon as he finished, Sarah applied her own unique brand of stress relief.
“Feel better?” Sarah asked later, her voice a purr of satisfaction. She curled up against him, muscles warm and lax.
“Define better.”
“Are you still thinking about the job?”
“What job?”
Sarah grinned. “Then I guess my work is done.” She started to roll over but David hooked an arm around her waist, nestling her close.
“Actually, I think I’m still a little stressed. I might need another round of comforting.”
“Don’t get greedy on me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Although he had to admit, he already wanted her again. Like a drug, he was addicted to the scent of her skin, the taste of her mouth, the look of ecstasy in her eyes when she came. God, he was so gone it wasn’t even funny. The realization surprised him at first, but he quickly grew accustomed to the fact that he was ridiculously in love with her.
It occurred to him then that he hadn’t asked her a single question about her day. Talk about greedy. “So what did you do today?”
“Oh, not much. A little housework, balanced my checkbook, then I went to see Grandma. I didn’t stay too long, though, because she was feeling tired.” She smiled. “She’s so funny. She wanted me to ask you about poltergeists.”
“What about them?”
Sarah paused, gave him a peculiar look. “You mean they’re real?”
“Sure they are. They’re just earthbound souls with a bad attitude. Usually, it’s because something bad happened to them while they were alive and they haven’t been able to let it go. Nasty little bastards.”
His answer sparked her curious streak. “So what else is out there?” she asked as she repositioned herself, resting her chin against his chest. Her fingers played with his chest hair. “Vampires?”
“Nope.” David’s hand moved up and down her back, his fingers tracing the lines of each vertebra. “The only vampires I’ve ever seen are the wannabes who hang out at the goth bar on Orange Blossom Trail.”
“Huh. How about werewolves?”
“No, no werewolves either.”
“Sasquatch?”
David’s chest shook with silent laughter. “No.”
Sarah shifted her head so she could look up at him. She caught his gaze, her eyes going all dark and sexy, and he realized he’d never get enough of her. Never. “You know, my friend Jackie would be horribly disappointed to hear this.”
“Well, if it makes her feel better, ghosts are real.” He bent his neck and kissed her forehead. “And demons.”
Sarah gave him one of those skeptical looks he’d come to know and love. “No way. Demons are real?”
“Yep. Although they’re not something you see very often. They work pretty hard to keep a low profile. Like us.”
“Oh.” She was quiet for a m
oment, her fingers still tracing invisible patterns along the planes of his chest. Her touch was light, smooth, and more arousing than he ever imagined. And as her hand moved steadily lower, David’s blood followed, vacating his brain and wreaking havoc on his ability to think.
“Is there anything else out there that goes bump in the night?” she asked, her tone taking on a playful sensuality. Her hand reached its final destination, stripping the air from his lungs.
“Yes,” he managed to choke out.
Sarah smiled. “Really? Like what?”
Her hand began to move in an exquisite rhythm: not too fast, not too slow, with just enough pressure to set his blood to boiling.
“Well,” David said, voice strained, his free hand digging into the covers. He took a deep, steadying breath, determined to answer her question before he lost the ability to form a coherent thought. “There are things out there we don’t even have a name for. From what I understand, they’ve been here longer than us and have no interest in our affairs. We leave them alone and they return the favor.”
“Really? What do they look like?” Sarah’s grip tightened and he let out a tortured groan. “Are they anything like us? Where do they live? How do you know—”
“Enough questions,” David said, his self-control reduced to ashes. He rolled her onto her back, pinning her to the mattress with the weight of his body. He claimed her mouth and she immediately responded; taking, yielding, reveling in the wonders of flesh against flesh, soul against soul. When he pulled away, she was breathless and flushed, a wicked look on her face that gifted him with boundless inspiration.
“I’ll do my best to answer your questions later,” David said, his voice a raw, husky murmur. He let out a low chuckle as his fingers trailed down her body, leaving goose bumps in their wake. “But right now I plan on making you see God.”
chapter 17
Nothing could ruin Sarah’s mood Monday morning. Not the congestion on Semoran Boulevard or the pileup choking traffic on Colonial Drive. Not even the animal rights activists, who once again picketed the gates at Cava Tech with banners and posters and chants of “Stop the abuse!” One of the protesters rushed toward her car with what looked like blood on his hands but security grabbed him at the last second.
Grave Intentions Page 21
