Mortal Brother

by Teyla Branton

  I walked slowly toward her, purposely clamping down on any thoughts. “Had a little run-in with some local bandits. Tried to steal our plane. Apparently, they were upset about some bad deal they made with the owners here and wanted retribution. But we held them off.” I cracked a grin. “I did have to take the guy’s sister hostage to make them fight with me, but it worked out.”

  “You’ll have to tell us all about it.” She linked her arm around my neck so I could help her up the steps and into the plane. I tried not to wince, failing miserably, and the fact that she didn’t notice told me how taxing the day had been for her.

  Erin wasn’t the only one worse for wear. Our newest employee, Benito Hernández—a mortal like me—was seriously wounded, and Ritter, who was covered in blood, was carrying him. Our healer, Dimitri Sidorov, who claimed over a thousand years of life, hovered next to him with a worried expression.

  Looks like we all had stories to tell, but for now I needed to get us into the air. Home to Stella.

  The plane had been in flight thirty minutes when broad-shouldered Dimitri came into the cockpit where my little brother, Jace, was asking me questions about flying. Now that Jace knew he had two thousand years to live, he planned to take time to learn a little about everything. Normally, I didn’t mind, but today his exuberance was exhausting.

  “May I have a moment with Chris?” Dimitri asked.

  “Sure.” Jace exited the cockpit, curiosity showing on his face.

  “What’s up?” I asked Dimitri. “Is Benito okay?”

  “He’s tough. He’s going to make it.”

  I sighed with relief. Jace had told me that Dimitri and the others hadn’t been able to save the scientists, but Benito had been instrumental in securing a thumb drive, which we believed held the cure for Bronson, and losing him would have made everything much worse.

  Dimitri drew up behind me and placed his hands on my shoulders. “Lean forward.”

  I grunted with the effort. “How did you know?”

  “I mostly guessed after talking to Ava about your report. But I can see you’re in pain.”

  “Don’t tell Erin.”

  He laughed. “Yeah. Not going to do that. She’d want you tied up in bubble wrap until, well, forever. Good thing she’s too exhausted to be more suspicious.” He closed his eyes as his hand roamed over my chest and stomach. It could have felt weird having another man touch me that way when I was definitely heterosexual, but I knew he healed best by touch, and I was in too much pain to object. Besides, he was Erin’s biological father, so he was family in more ways than our Renegade connection.

  “Your ribs aren’t broken,” Dimitri said. “However, they are very bruised. I’ve done what I can to ease the pain and hurry the healing, but they’ll still be sore for a few days.”

  “Thanks.” I was already feeling better.

  Finally, he pulled off my cap and began checking my head. “Do you have this thing on autopilot? Because you need stitches. It’s going to hurt a bit.”

  “Guess I’ll have to get used to pain.”

  “Guess so.” Did he sound proud? I wasn’t sure. But with my own parents out of the daily picture because of the danger the Emporium posed, I did look to him for guidance. If Ava was the leader and mother of our Renegade cell, Dimitri was the father.

  I’d had stitches before and Dimitri had been underestimating his gentleness, or maybe his ability as a healer dampened the pain. I managed to endure his ministrations without making a fool of myself or causing the plane to drop from the sky. In fact, by the time he left the cockpit, my overall pain had dipped to a level that the pain killer could handle. I didn’t even mind when Jace returned with his incessant, eager questions. He was alive and that was enough.

  We had barely entered US airspace some hours later when Ava contacted us with the news: Bronson was dead.

  Her words slammed into me, and for a long moment I struggled for breath. All the work, the hurry, the sacrifice. The deaths of the scientists. It had all been for nothing.

  We were too late.

  WE ARRIVED IN PORTLAND WITH the morning sun, whose light did nothing to remove the heaviness from my chest. While I dealt with arrangements for the plane after landing, the others went to Stella’s apartment, which we were using as a temporary safe house until we moved to the new place in San Diego. I also had to meet the ambulance that came for Benito, and by the time I arrived at Stella’s, the place was a hive of activity.

  “This location has been compromised,” Erin told me, appearing from the back of the moving truck outside the apartment. “But guess what? There was information on that thumb drive we brought back about Tenika’s missing people. We know where they’re being held!”

  A weight lifted from my shoulders. Maybe Mexico hadn’t been a total bust after all.

  “We’re leaving as soon as possible,” Ritter added. He jumped down from the truck and turned to offer Erin a hand. At over two hundred and seventy years old, he sometimes had the distinct manners of an old-world gentleman, though I usually didn’t see even a glimpse of that because he was otherwise so deadly—a killing machine, really. But I’d noticed that Erin brought out this other side of him, the gallantry from a time long forgotten by most of us.

  Erin ignored his hand and came down the ramp, but the look she tossed him at the bottom told me she had been aware of him and wasn’t ready to accept him completely. Something had happened between them in Mexico. I hoped it was good.

  Ava came from Stella’s third-floor apartment, her feet making noise on the outside metal staircase as she descended. I turned to her. “I just need to see my kids, then I’ll go back to the airport to get the plane ready for the flight.”

  Ava shook her head. “No. Cort will take us in the smaller plane. He’s skilled enough for that. I want you to load the essentials and take them to the house in San Diego. George and Charles will go with you. I’ll arrange for Benito to join you once he’s out of the hospital. You might want to send the kids to your parents for a while until you’re sure the new place is secure.” Her lips tightened. “I want it to be a veritable fortress when you’re finished.”

  Fortress. It reminded me of two days earlier when Erin had begged me to take the kids and leave the Renegades. I’d told her that separating them from those they loved wasn’t the answer, but rather making sure it never happened again. I was just the man for creating the fortress. My children could be killed, so I had the most to lose.

  However, it didn’t escape me that Ava was sending the mortals with me, while the Unbounded would be going to what would likely be another bloodbath with the Emporium.

  “Please, Chris,” Ava said, her hand going out to mine. “We must free our people, but after losing Stella’s baby and Gaven like that and”—she swallowed hard—“almost losing the kids, and now Bronson, we need a refuge to come home to. Right now we really need everyone to be safe.”

  The mortals to be safe, she meant.

  I looked into her face, with her steel gray eyes so like my own and Erin’s. This fourth great-grandmother, who was basically my physical age, had lost so much over the years, and the mortals in our cell were particularly vulnerable, regardless of any black ops experience. I understood Ava wanting to limit further loss. Losing Lorrie had made me seek revenge, but if I lost one of my children now, there wouldn’t be anything of me left, and losing more Renegades in the near future might be the beginning of the end in our struggle against the Emporium.

  “Okay,” I said. “I’ll make that house a fortress. You watch over Erin and Jace.”

  She nodded. “With my life.”

  I knew she meant it. And not only her, but Ritter, Stella, and the others. “What about Marco?” I asked. Marco Collins was the one mortal employee she hadn’t mentioned, one who’d served with Gaven in black ops and who would mourn him the most.

  “I’ll take him with us. He needs the distraction, and we’ll need someone for legwork.”

  I knew that meant she would keep an e
ye on him and make sure he was far from any real action. Marco would hate that if he knew, but being left behind would annoy him more. I nodded and started up the stairs.

  “We’re putting most of the essentials in the vehicles for you to take to the plane,” Ava called after me. “We’ve also hired a driver for the moving truck. We need to be out of here in the next thirty minutes.”

  I nodded. “I’m ready.” We’d lost most of our belongings when we’d torched the old safe house after the Emporium raid, so I didn’t have anything to pack that wasn’t already in my Jeep. The kids didn’t have much left either, except what Ava and the others had pulled from their rooms before starting the fire to cover all the damage. Our concern had focused on electronics, not on stuff we could easily replace.

  I went into the apartment, through the front room, and down the hallway to the closet. Inside the closet was a hidden door leading to a room where my children had been when I’d said goodbye before going to Mexico. I wanted to hold them and see for myself that they were all right. But I’d gone only halfway down the hall when they emerged from what had been Bronson’s bedroom.

  “Dad, you’re back!” Kathy exclaimed, throwing herself at me, her blond hair swinging around her face. For an instant, pain shot through me at her resemblance to her mother, but the emotion passed as her arms wrapped around my neck. She was only twelve, but it felt like she’d grown an inch in just the two days I’d been away.

  “Bronson’s dead!” Spencer hugged my waist, and I dropped to take them both in my arms, nodding a greeting at Charles, the husky man who was watching over them.

  “I know, son. But it’s going to be okay.” My arms tightened as gratitude choked me. I was so grateful to be holding them again.

  “We’re leaving soon,” Charles said, his wide chin set. Sadness radiated from his brown eyes—eyes that looked dark against the paleness of his face. I knew he missed Gaven almost as much as Marco did.

  “Look, you two need to get ready,” I told the kids. “Charles and I are taking you to Grandma and Grandpa’s for a few weeks until we get the security system installed in our new place.”

  “Ava showed us a picture,” Kathy said. “It’s huge. A mansion!”

  “She says we can have a playroom with a climbing wall,” Spencer added. “Can we, Dad?”

  “Sure.”

  “Anyway, we’re already packed,” Kathy said. “We didn’t have much from the old house.”

  Spencer pulled back, his freckled nose wrinkling and reminding me faintly of Marisa. “Are we going to get new clothes again?”

  “Yeah, bud, we are.” Reluctantly, I released them and stood. “If you’ll stay with them a bit longer,” I said to Charles, “I’ll meet you guys in the Jeep. We can drive them to my parents and then meet George at the plane.” Though my parents lived in Portland, it’d take a couple hours to follow the precautions necessary for turning over the children. The Emporium had eyes everywhere these days. We’d need Charles for backup.

  Charles shook his head. “We’re having a brief service for Bronson and Gaven at the mortuary in about an hour, before the others leave for New York. Gaven’s family will hold their own service in Alabama, so he’ll be sent there afterward.”

  “Yeah, we need to be there,” Kathy said, blinking back tears.

  Mentally I began adjusting my plan. The service was a good idea, and I was glad someone had thought of it. I needed closure as much as anyone. “Okay, then. After the service.”

  “We’ll meet you outside,” Charles said.

  I nodded. “Be sure to take Max,” I told the kids. We couldn’t forget the dog. He’d love to visit my parents, who were his original owners.

  I watched them go before stepping into Bronson’s room where his body lay, still and gray-looking. Stella sat in the chair by the bed, appearing almost completely well instead of half dead the way I’d had to leave her. I clamped down to stop the relief; after all, she was Unbounded and healing was expected. But I knew some wounds couldn’t be seen.

  She was even more beautiful than I remembered. Her shoulder-length black hair was smooth and glossy, her heart-shaped face, sculptured eyebrows, and flawless olive skin perfect. Her Asian heritage lent a kind of mystery to her features that begged me to learn more. I wanted to take her in my arms and protect her.

  She looked up and saw me, her mouth curving in a sad smile that I was ashamed to admit did more for me than Marisa’s passionate kiss. “They say it helps to say goodbye. I hope it’s okay that I let the children see him this way.”

  “Of course.” I trusted her. She’d saved their lives, and in a way that meant they were hers now. If I’d known Bronson’s body was still in here, I probably would have talked to them about it, but I suspected Stella and Ava already had—and better than I could have. They both knew more about death than I did, despite my recent loss.

  She stood, leaning over to stroke Bronson’s pale cheek before straightening and facing me again. “You’ve probably heard about the service, but I need to stay until Bronson’s properly buried. In a few days, I’ll join the others in New York.”

  “You can’t stay here. It’s too dangerous.”

  “I know. I’ll find a hotel. I’m not sure where I want to bury him. Maybe you can fly him somewhere for me? Maybe to San Diego?”

  I would deny her nothing. “If that’s what you want.”

  She nodded.

  I stepped closer, then took her into my arms the way I’d wanted to since walking into that room. Well, not exactly the way that I wanted, but it was all I’d ever have. “Stella, I wanted to tell you before we left, but you were still . . .” Unconscious. “Asleep. I—you . . . you saved my children. You could have made so many other choices, but you didn’t, and I can never, ever repay you for that. Thank you.” I didn’t mention her lost baby because I could feel it there between us, heavy and aching. I wasn’t sure what I would do if she started crying. I wanted smooth her hair, to caress her face, to take away her pain. Love it away. As if that could do it. I knew it wouldn’t begin to come close.

  She pulled back. “Oh, Chris, I am so glad I was there for them. Whatever happened, I don’t regret that. I love those kids, and I know how you feel about them. They are the reason for this fight. I would never let anything happen to them, if I could help it. I don’t regret what I did.”

  “I know.” But the cost had been higher than any of us would have wanted her to pay.

  “Come with me,” I said gently. “Ava will take care of Bronson until the service. We’ll go for a drive with the kids before we head over.” With the apartment location compromised, I wanted to be sure Stella was out of here long before the Emporium agents arrived. And they would come. It was only a matter of time.

  Mutely, she nodded and let me turn her toward the door.

  I took one last look over my shoulder at Bronson. I’d liked him, the retired electronics engineer with a steady hand, who’d removed more bullets from Stella and her friends than most mortal doctors. At seventy he looked more like Stella’s father or even grandfather than her husband. I knew he’d been married once before meeting her and had two grown children. He’d lived a good life, if short by Unbounded standards. But he looked at peace. Maybe he hadn’t been all that unhappy to leave before age separated him even more from the woman he loved.

  Goodbye, old man, I thought. We’ll take care of her.

  Ava met us in the hallway with Ritter and Dimitri, who hurried into the room and picked up Bronson. “We have to leave right now. Make sure you’re armed.”

  THREE DAYS LATER I WAS still in Portland—and still on edge, wondering where the Emporium would strike next. Stella had changed her mind about transporting Bronson to San Diego, mostly because his adult children lived in Washington and driving to Portland for a proper funeral and subsequent visits to his grave would be easier for their families than traveling clear to Southern California. I was glad because I thought having Bronson buried in San Diego, so near our new safe house, might c
ause Stella more pain.

  I stayed with her at first because there was no one else. Then Ava called to let me know the New York Renegade cell had intercepted an encrypted message from the Emporium that mentioned pending activity in our area, and there was no way I was leaving her alone after that. I didn’t tell Stella, but I became even more vigilant. I kept Charles with us and sent George ahead to San Diego to meet with the contractor who was doing the house renovations.

  We’d spent the first day making funeral preparations for Bronson. Or rather, Stella made the preparations. Charles and I shared her hotel suite, but we’d consumed most of the time pouring over security options for the house while she’d been making phone calls, hotel arrangements for Bronson’s family, and talking to the mortuary. Charles also watched old Star Trek reruns, which soon began to make me wish I could beam him out of there. But he was a good pizza buddy, and we consumed far more than our share. He preferred the more exotic kind, like those with kelp and shrimp and white sauce, while I loved pepperoni and sausage.

  Even preoccupied as she was with Bronson, Stella did more research than we did into our future security arrangements, vetting companies we might employ to help us create our fortress. I knew she would also ensure that whatever company we chose didn’t retain enough information about us in their files to ever betray us to the Emporium.

  Dealing with our immediate security problems kept Stella’s brain occupied at a time when she desperately needed it. She’d be talking funeral arrangements with the mortuary, and at the same time sending me background checks on all the employees at a security company, complete with lists of their loved ones and associates and charity donations. At the same time, I’d receive a dozen new articles from her on the latest in security options. Having a technopath around had its advantages, but deep down I admitted that her capabilities served mostly to emphasize the gap between us. That was when I wished I could beam myself elsewhere.