Drew was in the bathroom showering. She was so keyed up she’d never be able to manage the visions if she let them loose. And he wasn’t going to let her get overcome again. He’d thought once he might lose her to madness and he’d never felt so helpless in his life. But now he had a trick or two up his sleeve. They’d get through it. The funny part was that the visions could sneak in naturally in her day without so much damage. But if she had to call them—when she wanted to see something particular and she had to open herself to the whole lot of them—then the experience could be devastating.
His wife came out of the bathroom in a fluffy terry robe. She didn’t mean it to be sexy. But everything about Drew was sexy, from her willowy curves, her pale and perfect skin, to her luxurious dark hair and the eyes that could be anything from the gray of a foggy morning to the glinting pewter of the ocean when the light was just right. They saw right through him, those eyes. How he’d ever become so…owned, he didn’t know. Genetic destiny, he guessed. He was just grateful to whoever was running things in this world that it had happened to him twice—once with Alice, and after she died, with Drew. He’d won the lottery of second chances there.
“Hey, baby.” He didn’t mean it to come out a growl. Her worried look softened as she walked across the room into his arms. “I think you need a massage, just to relax.”
“Mmmmmm,” she said as she turned her face up and he kissed her pretty damn thoroughly. Hard to believe they’d been married almost ten years. Every day was new with Drew, except now he knew her down to the bottom of his soul, if he had one. His only regret was that he hadn’t been able to give her a child. He knew she wanted one, though she’d never said so explicitly. There was so much going on in the Tremaine world maybe it was just as well. He slipped the robe off her shoulders. He took her in his arms. He always liked the sight of the olive skin of his biceps against her creamy shoulders. She laid her head on his chest.
“I’m dreading this,” she said. “Even if I see something, I don’t always know how to interpret it or when it will happen. This could all be useless and I’ll have let them down.”
“You’ve been pretty fucking useful in the past. Devin and Kee didn’t get out of that horror house in Hollywood without you. And you were the one who figured out that Greta was Lan’s Destiny. You saw where they were, even.”
“Yeah. Neon lights. Could have been anywhere. You Found them in Las Vegas.”
“So, hey, we’re a team.”
She smiled up at him. It was a little smile, but better than nothing. “Yeah. We are.”
“Let me give you a massage.” Michael knew he was a damn good masseur. He’d made it his business to learn Drew’s body.
“Tempter. Only if you’re as naked as I am.”
“On the bed,” he whispered.
She lay down, prone, so he got to look at her delectable derriere as he stripped. And she got to watch him out of the corner of her eye, her gaze heating up. When he was naked, he grabbed some scented oil from the nightstand drawer and turned the lights off, so only the moon lit the room as its light poured in through the window. He got up on the high, four-poster bed. The midnight blue satin quilt was sprinkled with big stars and moons. He straddled her thighs. Just massage, he told his unruly body. We have work to do.
The oil he poured into his hand smelled like exotic spices. She gathered her hair and pulled it to the side so he could get to her shoulders and neck. He felt her muscles loosen. He was getting an erection. He tried to think about other things. She started to make little purring noises. He wasn’t sure she even knew she was doing it.
Damn it. Now he was so hard it was almost painful. Touching Drew. Naked. Not a surprise. As he leaned forward, his erection rubbed against her buttocks.
“I feel that, you know,” she said, her voice liquid and hot.
“Hey, I’m human.” He ran his thumbs up her spine. “And male.”
“We could do something about it,” she murmured, turning under his thighs.
Now came the unfair part. “After.”
“Blackmail,” she accused lazily.
He shrugged. “Is it working?”
She nodded, with a little, wry smile. Just like she wasn’t scared.
“I’ll hold you,” he added.
“I know you will.”
He let her out from between his thighs. What a fool you are, Redmond.
She sat cuddled in against his side. “Don’t let go.” His sophisticated woman, who everyone thought of as a little distant, was trying not to sound frightened.
“Not a chance.” She had to open up and let all the visions in, try to sort through them as they flashed past, grab the ones that looked promising, let the others glide past her. If she went too deep into the river of the future, if she couldn’t hold onto herself…well, he wouldn’t think about that.
She sat, her back straight as he scooted around to surround her with his body. She used to need a pool of water for the visions. But she’d finally realized they were internal, not external, so her job wasn’t to look at water, but into her own mind. He put his arms around her waist like an anchor. He felt exactly the moment she opened to them. She swayed a little. He held her tighter. Her breath came faster.
Just ride it out, baby. Leaf on a stream.
Now her chest heaved. She was making little grunting noises. Her muscles tightened. God, what was happening? She began to shake and heave. Was she having a seizure? Convulsions? “Come back, baby,” he said into her ear, softly, afraid he might push her farther into the flood of the future. This session wasn’t normal. It killed him to think she was hurting herself to help the family, though she’d never back down because of the risk.
But she didn’t come back. Instead the shaking grew and grew. Blood trickled out of her nose and mouth. God, what was this? He hugged her tighter. “Drew, get out of there, now!”
The shaking stopped abruptly. She sagged against him. He rocked her and stroked her lush hair, now damp with sweat. It took him a moment to realize she wasn’t breathing.
“Damn, it, Drew!” He rolled her onto the bed, frantic, and began artificial resuscitation. Pump, pump, pump on her chest. Blow into her mouth while holding her nose. Start over. He’d done this many times but never to one who meant everything to him. He couldn’t lose a soulmate twice. Why didn’t The Breakers have a defibrillator? His thoughts raced. He might break ribs. That didn’t matter. Did she have a blocked airway? Did he dare stop to check? How long had he been doing this? Too long and she’d have brain damage.
“Drew, baby, you gotta come back to me,” he rasped as he pumped her chest once more. He realized he was crying. He bent to blow into her mouth.
She gave a cough.
Thank God. He pulled her up and thumped her back as she coughed again and gasped for breath. He hugged her to his chest, careful not to crush her. He wanted to hold her here forever where she couldn’t be hurt. “You scared me so bad.”
She looked up at him, her gray eyes still far away.
“Are you back, baby?” She’d never had a session where her heart fucking stopped. He was still in shock. But he knew better than to rush her. The dislocation of moving from cascading visions of the future to the solid present made retaining the useful parts of what she’d seen difficult. She had to haul them back across the divide. In this case, maybe the divide was death.
The gray eyes turned up toward him. They glowed almost silver in the moonlight that came in through the window. As she came to herself, she looked more and more frightened.
“Did I hurt you?”
“I…I’m fine. Visions were not good.” Her voice was a hollow rasp.
He leaned back to grab a tissue from the box on the nightstand and wiped the blood from her face. “Do you feel well enough to try and pick out some specifics?” He hated to push her, but the family’s lives were at stake.
She nodded, slowly. “I saw Luc.”
Surprising. “Your half-brother?” They’d only just met Senior’s
son by a lover before he’d met Brina. Word had it that Brina had thrown Luc Marrec out of the house. She’d been pretty upset to learn her children weren’t Senior’s first. And that he hadn’t told her he had any. Even if he swore he didn’t know.
Drew nodded. “He was, uh, watching,” she managed. “He’s on a brushy point above some beach. I don’t know the beach.”
“Okay….” What did that mean? Drew didn’t see things unless they were important, though it was easy to misinterpret what she saw.
“Then I saw another man, young. He’s with Tammy on that beach.”
“How could Tammy be anywhere but here at The Breakers? Unless it’s way later, when everything is back to normal.”
“I don’t think so. This part all seems connected, imminent.” She stilled again, as though the visions were echoing as she sorted through the ones she’d claimed. Then every muscle in her body tightened. “There he is again! He’s naked, bleeding. Dead? He’s lying on a slab. Blue light everywhere. And fire.”
“Do you recognize him?”
Drew shook her head slowly. “No. I only see his profile.” She paused. “I see a canyon. It’s full of a rust-colored building. Metal, maybe.”
“Go on.” He could prompt her to help her remember later if she told him now. God forbid she had to do this again because she’d lost the details. Neither of them would likely survive it.
“I see desert. I’ve got my back to the canyon now, I think.”
“What kind of plants? Saguaros?” That could tell them which desert.
She shook her head. “Scraggly bushes. Some of those long spiky cacti that get a flower on the end, and the ones with the stickers that detach and cling to you.”
“Ocotillo, cholla. The bushes are probably creosote.” Pretty standard desert plants. There was a lot of desert in California, Arizona, Nevada, even Mexico. Though seeing no saguaros might rule out the southern Sonora. “Do you see thick trees with clumps of spikey leaves at the end of thick branches?” Those would be Joshua trees, with a pretty defined range.
“N-no. Just feathery ones. Palo Verde, I think.”
So, northern Sonoran desert. Which didn’t help them very much, except that it would be south and west of L.A. and on into Arizona and New Mexico.
Drew had moved on. “Stars. I see stars everywhere. They seem invested with…dread or portent. I just have a feeling something terrible is going to happen.”
That could just be the pressure of knowing they were all careening to a moment when their world was won or lost by a convergence of stars and comets. He hugged her. “I know, baby. I know.” Now to direct her a bit. “Did you see anybody else in the family?”
She moaned and covered her mouth. “There! Tammy again!”
“What about Tammy?” Michael had a really bad feeling about this.
Drew turned her face up. Her eyes, already full of tears, overflowed and sent rivulets down her cheeks. She looked horrified. “Oh, God Michael. She’s dead, lying in the sand.”
“You don’t know she’s dead.” Michael’s personal victory was that his voice didn’t shake. “These visions can be deceiving. You know that.”
“There was blood everywhere.” Drew’s voice was shaking.
“That doesn’t mean she’s dead. It might not even be her blood. She might just have fainted or something.” He tried to keep “grim” out of his expression.
Even as she stared into his eyes, Drew’s own eyes flickered. “Explosion. Big. Fire shooting into a very black night. Silhouettes against it. I can’t see who they are.”
Michael took a breath and just held her. “Tough sledding ahead,” he murmured. “But you don’t know we don’t win through.”
They looked at each other, trying to process. “We can’t tell them, Michael. What if the family doesn’t challenge the Clan because they’re afraid of what happens to Tammy?” Drew asked fretfully. She gripped his arms, her chest heaving. “Then the Clan wins and the world changes and we’re all dead. And then what if they worried for nothing and we could have done something because she isn’t dead. But if we don’t tell them and she dies, they’ll never forgive us. Remember what happened to Father? And I didn’t want to worry them so I didn’t tell them. So they couldn’t stop it.” She couldn’t go on, but collapsed in tears.
Complicated. “Okay. This is going to take some thought. So let’s keep the part about Tammy to ourselves right now. It’s a pretty big burden of secrecy. Can you deal with that?” She’d been almost crazy with guilt after the incident with her father.
She straightened and tried to breathe. “Just while we think what to do.” Then her eyes began to flicker again. Damn it. She’d let in the visions, and now she might not be able to keep them out. She’d lost the control she’d worked so hard for. “The young man again. With Tammy. Fire, but this time it’s different, not so big. Sirens. People. He’s carrying her. I only see him from the back, but it’s him.” She shook herself and looked up at Michael. “Tammy’s going to find her match. Looks like this boy’s the One.”
That was a leap. “He could just be rescuing her.”
“Not the way they were holding onto each other. Trust me. I know the difference between a rescue and ‘cleaving onto one another.’ Poor Tammy. Now is not a good time to find your Destiny. And if…if he’s going to die…”
“You don’t know he was dead either,” he interrupted. “And by the way, it’s not a good time for Jane to be giving birth. It’s not a good time for Jesse and Elizabeth to grow up.” He put his forehead up against hers. “Not a good time for us to be in love, but we are. I wouldn’t have it any other way, no matter what happens in the future.”
“Kiss me.” Drew lifted her face to his. He made sure it was a good one. It was Drew who pulled back. She paused. “I…I don’t think we should tell Tammy about finding her match either. It will just make her crazy.”
“She already has a lot on her plate,” Michael agreed. “I sometimes think she’s the one who’s suffered most with all this.”
“She never had a real adolescence,” Drew murmured.
“And Senior was her whole world. Even now that he’s recovering, she can never go back to thinking her daddy could slay all the dragons.”
Drew gave him a wistful look. “All that shrieking excitement she had at fourteen used to exasperate me. Now I’d give anything if she could feel that way again.”
He had to take Drew’s mind off her situation. And he had to stop her focusing on the visions or she’d never get control. “We’ll think what to do tomorrow. Guess it’s time for me to make good on my promise.”
She gave a rueful smile. “Let’s go tell the others what we can first. Kemble will help us narrow down the desert. Then, I’m going to hold you to that promise, all night long.”
“Stamina. She demands stamina,” he mourned. Somehow, he summoned a wry grin. “Hope I’m up to the task.”
Drew gave him a disgusted look and rose, reaching for her robe. “You’ll manage. You might even like it.”
Oh, he’d like it all right. It wasn’t odd that he loved Drew so much it sometimes almost hurt. What was odd was that she loved him too. He was one lucky asshole.
CHAPTER FIVE
‡
Thomas rolled over onto his back on the scratchy carpet and wished he hadn’t. His back and buttocks were still raw from the flogging he’d been given—three days?—Yes, three days ago now. So much had happened since then. He pushed himself up. The lights came up slowly in the room to mimic daylight. He had no idea what time it was. He used the miraculous toilet, trying to shake the dreams.
He’d dreamed of the red-haired girl. In one she’d been behind a great glass like the windows in the airport in Athens that looked out to where the airplanes landed. It was as though he would wither and die if he couldn’t reach her. She touched her palm to the glass and so did he. But the cold barrier made it impossible to feel the warmth of her palm. She was trying to say something to him. Maybe warn him? But he couldn�
�t hear her words. He pounded the glass. She began to cry tears of blood. Blood gushed from her mouth. He screamed in panic. She couldn’t die! But a red ink blot spread on her dress over her heart as she crumpled into a huge pool of blood. He slipped to the floor, sobbing. When he looked up, she was gone. All that was left was the blood.
There were more like that. Always the same: longing, needing to be with her, and some horrible death that left him bereft and despairing.
Then there were the dreams of Morgan. It used to be when he dreamed of her (then he’d thought she was a man, of course) she’d appear to him in white with blinding light behind her, like the visions from the Bible and the Upanishad. But last night, the bright white figure had crumbled like a broken icon. Inside there was something he couldn’t quite see, but it writhed and he smelled decay. He touched the broken figure with his foot and hundreds of what looked like long black maggots foamed onto his boot.
That one had woken him forcibly. Or perhaps it had been his own cry of revulsion.
He pushed the handle on the toilet. The fact of running water still amazed him. Even in the dim past of Somalia before he came to the monastery, there had been no toilets like this.
He splashed water on his face from the sink. There was no mirror. He didn’t want to see his face anyway. He wasn’t sure he would recognize the man who stared back at him.
He was a man. He was twenty-six. That should give him joy. He was trained and ready to fulfill his purpose. Brother Theodosius always said he was so very lucky to have a purpose, lucky that his mentor had picked him from among all others to train in order to fulfill it.
This morning he didn’t feel lucky. He struggled to disperse the cobweb of dreams and sat gingerly on the straight-backed wooden chair. Maybe meditation would help him relax. Focusing on something helped his meditation. There, in the upper corner of the small room just by the door was a metal box with a smooth black glass circle in the front, almost like an eye. He would focus on that.
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