Unlike tonight, and how the birthmark had pulsated with every beat of his heart, he recalled his second year in the orphanage after another failed adoption. He’d awakened one night in a drenching sweat. Dreams, with thousands of babies shipped off, afraid and alone. Later in life, he’d shrugged the nightmare off as an unconscious projection of his very identifiable and sorrowful predicament. Still in his soaked pajamas, drawn by the night and searching for answers, he’d ended up in what he came to call the observation room. Meticulous and calculated, hands down the most beautiful meeting hall in the whole facility, it was also the most important. The room where potential parents met prospective children and spent time with them. Opening one of the doors to breathe away the dream and draw in fresh air, he’d learned to keep his first secret. Before him, the stars had formed a familiar shape in the night sky, and his chest began to burn where his birthmark of Orion’s constellation resided.
Another weird instance happened aboard a naval ship anchored in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea. He’d been beckoned above deck by the tattoo’s painful throb, Yet again, he’d spied the same formation. He’d touched the birthmark while his eyes and mind were somehow transfixed to the cluster of stars.
While Fallon and he embraced several feet off the ground, he recalled sighting the same constellation the night they met.
Pushing away from his mirror image, with a towel wrapped about his waist, he left the bathroom and headed toward the sounds and smell of food being prepared. When he entered the kitchen, he saw Fallon dancing around waving a spoon to a Pat Benatar song. A bowl of salad sat on the kitchen island. Her voice soared, and he leaned against the doorframe and watched her.
She squeaked with surprise when one of her twirls brought them face-to-face. Fallon’s transformation from a confident woman to an insecure wallflower changed the whole mood. Travis wanted the picture she’d created in her T-Shirt swaying around the room, and given him a hard-on. The head of his dick was barely hidden by the towel around his waist that he’d knotted in front.
She didn’t look up from the cutting board where she was slicing vegetables.
“I’ve already put my things in the dryer. If you want to add anything, it’s right through the door on your right.”
When Travis returned, she’d used the grill top to mark the steaks and was sliding them from the oven. Travis then found himself directed to set the table from one slender finger, with Fallon still not meeting his eyes. He found the plates and place settings in the cabinet she’d pointed out and got to work.
Fallon’s continued silence as she served their meal felt awkward so Travis tried to think of what would put her at ease.
“Damn. I forgot to ask you what you wanted to drink.” She jumped up and headed for the refrigerator.
“Do you have any beer?” he asked.
“Is a Miller High Life okay?”
Travis sucked in a hard breath, watching her lean into the fridge. The shirt was long but not long enough, hem rising up to the top of her thighs and giving him extended version of nothing but legs.
Fallon brought the beers over and sat down. This time when her knee touched his, she let it rest there. The contact at first made an audible pop, before settling into a steady hum. Hairs on his leg stood on end as waves of electrical currents fed steadily into him and occupied every part of his body. Taking a bit of the medium-rare steak, he focused on the stream, wondering why his heart kept a steady pace. Unlike the blood flowing through his veins, he experienced a coursing energy. His skin glowed. The simplest conclusion he could reach was that Fallon was the electricity that brightened his lightbulb.
Dropping his napkin and taking a swallow of beer, Travis concentrated on how to sever the connection. In an instant, like a converter for normal wiring, the back-feed ended.
“What the hell just happened?” Fallon asked. A small frown came over her face.
He probably should have picked a better time to test his theory, because the connection between them was so new, and with her lips wrapped around a bottle, the tip of her pink tongue tucked into the center as she took a sip, why did he have to try that now? He didn’t even get the chance to see her swallow.
“I couldn’t tell you. I was thinking about being able to cut the connection.” Travis glimpsed a brief moment of hurt and disappointment darkening her expressive face and worried if he’d ever get anything right with her.
CHAPTER 28
They finished their meals without further conversation, which was fine with Fallon. Afterward, they put the dishes in the sink, and she grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels and headed to the outer-door.
The storm had passed, and the birds were singing again. Crickets chirped and frogs croaked, adding a little background music. The lingering mist made the air feel fresh and clean.
Travis followed her out as she guided him to the lounging area, on the fifty-foot square deck. After she flipped a switch, soft lighting swathed the outdoor porch, complete with a granite and stone grill-bar, richly appointed wrought-iron table and chairs with removable plush cushioning made the area great for family get-togethers
They sipped whiskey in mute anticipation of the discussion to come.
“How about you explain who and what you are? Don’t get me wrong, the lightning show magnificent, but I’ve seen it before with you.”
Fallon sighed, curling her legs under her. “I am one of a set of five. The first legitimate set of quintuplets never recorded in human history.” His direct stare and raised brow gave away nothing.
“I never told why I showed up in your town, have I? Well, after what happened tonight, you understand the threat I represent. After centuries of screwing up, my brother Michael thought this place could restrict my incendiary tendency. I never expected to meet you or run into trouble like that,” she admitted soberly.
“Every time there’s lightning, and I’m anywhere near it, I end up hurting people and sometimes even killing them.” She met his curious gaze, owning her mistakes.
When he failed to criticize or reprimand her bad behavior, she told him about her brothers, Wallace, and her immediate disciplinary retreat recommendation. He appeared holding up pretty well, considering she hadn't touched on the heart of things just yet.
“Then there’s the question you asked about my parents. I never knew my father, so obviously I don’t know who’s behind our strange gifts. The sketchy information my mother imparted before she abandoned us was some bullshit about purpose. We have yet to figure out what she meant. Now my oldest brother is creating issues for us with some unknown agenda that leaves us cleaning up his messes. The weird thing is, Rafael has both helped and hurt our cause, so we don’t know which side he’s on.”
She finished her drink, and considered the ramifications if she told Travis everything she knew about what was happening in town. Could she trust him with the, especially if she told him her suspicions regarding his role? He had the means to track Rafael and her other brothers down. He could not kill him, of course, but he could bring a lot of unwanted attention to them all.
She watched warily as Travis sat up and threw one leg over the lounger to face her. His abdominal muscles rippled and the towel he wore opened just a bit, but he closed it before she could catch a glimpse at anything sizable. When he spread his legs, the excess cloth, damn, blocked off any interesting parts, other than the bunched material gathering in the middle, which left her guessing. The whiskey in the shot glass Travis held loosely between them while he most likely contemplated his next question sloshed liquid back and forth against the sides of the glass, hypnotizing her as she waited.
Travis’s hand tightened around the tumbler of amber liquid. He did his damndest to ignore the beauty pulling her hair up into a high ponytail. Situated sideways on the long chair as she was, her shirt stretched steady upward. If she didn’t take care there woul
d be nothing left to his imagination.
Closing his eyes to temptation, his mind began to function and reason out what information he had.
The question concerning her brother Rafael bothered him the most at this point. In the last seventy-two hours, he’d twice overheard that Rafael had been in town and he’d never known it. But what kind of trouble had he caused while in residence was exactly what he needed to know. Travis brought the glass to his lips and took another swallow.
“Is Rafael the one responsible for the strange things happening here?” Travis asked.
Fallon’s eyes darted to the left. Bingo. He was on the right track.
“You were talking to that traffic officer earlier and I saw the currents at the ends of your digits, right before he said Rafael had left town.”
She was silent a moment then shrugged. “So?”
He raked a hand over his face, determined to learn all of the truth despite her nonchalant attitude. “I need to know what I’m dealing with and what may potentially threatens this town. Crazy as this may sound, it wasn’t a bird from New Guinea that left a rather large feather at the last crime scene.”
Fallon’s body stiffened, and she clutched her hands together.
“Travis, I know you have no reason to trust me at this point, but I need to know if I can trust you with this information. I need your word.” She poured another drink from the bottle between them. She knocked the whole glass back before adding. “What I tell you will be handled without outsider influence. Since I have more information than you do on what we are facing, no matter what I tell you, we will handle this together.” Her eyes never left his. “This town and its inhabitants mean a lot to you. Can you put away your emotions because you may be called to put aside your badge long enough to carry out what needs to be done.”
Travis didn’t miss the veiled threat. Yet, his choices were limited. If he said yes, he’d probably get the information. No, and he doubted she would explain what Rafael had done while he was here.
Travis wanted to launch his whiskey glass. He accepted that he was out of his league. The only answer in the end was simple. He would always choose to protect and serve, no matter how it was carried out.
Travis lifted his glass in a salute, not trusting himself to speak.
Fallon told a tale similar to Mrs. Baxter’s, and her half human and angel daughter. Fallon’s feet were silent stepping on the plank decking. Her body glided in ethereal grace over to the large column post leading into the backyard. She wrapped her arm around it. Travis listened with more attention than he’d given Mrs. Baxter. The similarity between the stories was uncanny. Nephilim and their byproduct descents, the Sortaneph and the trouble they caused humanity, and even Fallon’s job to wrangle them astounded him.
“Rafael’s presence here doesn’t bode well for this town.” She leaned her head against the wooden post. “I stated we don’t know if he helps or hurts us, but the calling card he leaves behind was at the car show tonight.” She hesitated, looking back at him over one shoulder. A sad smile lifted her lips before she looked out into the night. “I saw markings on someone you’re familiar with.”
Travis could no longer sit still and paced the braced wood floor with strides, shortening the distance in seconds. With a sudden stop, he faced her, and then began arrowing questions at her with deadly precision.
“Are you saying I’m a direct descendant of the Nephilim race, or am I one of the mongrel Sortaneph you hunt? Which category do you fall in, for that matter? If a Sortaneph is here in Seagrove, why’s it targeting folks here?” He paused for a breath. “What is Rafael’s connection to this? If what you say is true and his gift of empathy and a part of him sheds to ease another’s burden, what twisted the person he touched?” Breathe. “Is he using that gift against people and turning them into these monsters? Can we help the person he’s hurt, or is it too late?”
Fallon held up her hands. “Slow down. Please, one question at a time. First, and you may not like this, your eyes mark you a Seraphim, an angel. You might have read about. Lucifer, Damien, I think you get the picture. Those of the light turned dark. Because your eyes are a darker than an African Amethyst,” she said, sucking her teeth, “you fit the bill, buddy. The more diluted the blood, the lighter the eye color.” Raising her hands as if to ward off a blow, she added, “Don’t get me started on that because you are higher ranked than I am.”
Flicking the tip of a nail off the other and watching the light move, she said, “Then again, there’s the fact that you must not have been 100% human to begin with. Nobody’s turned into Sortaneph. It’s genetic, Travis.”
Sweeping a shaky hand over his buzz cut, Travis’s head reeled. Fallon was telling him he might be some sort of angel.
“Before you ask, we don’t know why the eye color manifests after death.”
She placed her hand on his arm to get him to look at her. “Despite our brother’s obvious involvement, we don’t truly understand his association with the Sortaneph, or we would have tracked him down and killed him before now. We think he was trying to help these people in some way but more is happening than the results he was looking for.”
“I think you’d better land this fucking plane now,” he growled between clenched teeth.
Leaning on the rail to hold him steady, he tried to calm down and find motive in her madness. “If I take one more detour in getting to the bottom of this, I’ll use the nearest exit to start looking for this motherfucker myself. Two people have died, and all you want to give me is a history lesson and halfhearted excuse of helping people to justify your brother’s fucking actions.”
“What the hell do you want me to tell you?” she asked, tilting her head and keeping her hands by her side as if restraining herself.
Rafael was her brother, but if push came to shove, Travis felt she’d do her what was right. He realized he probably had insulted her. Strong as he knew her to be, hurt shone in her sea-blue eyes. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she took several calming breaths, and then she exhaled.
“You want to know who?”
“Yes, dammit! Since I haven’t sprouted wings and joined the heavenly choir, my work here on earth trying to catch a killer seems the most important issue at hand.”
As Fallon took several steps away from him, and his volatile mood, Travis liked the small shock after she removed her hand from his skin. He wasn’t sure he enjoyed the sense of loss once it was gone. To further ratchet up his frustration with the delay, Fallon walked back to the lawn chair, snatching the bottle off the floor. Tilting it up, she took drags on the amber liquid, and the sight of her throat working the alcohol down sent any residual sparks of energy straight to his hardening member. So not the time to be thinking about her taking long swallows from a phallic-shaped object.
“The kid I asked you about.” Bracing herself for who-knew-what, she came to him. Her open gaze direct. “When I walked into the shop and overheard the mechanic talking about that body they found and the condition it was in, I determined my brother had something to do with this because other bodies that have been found over the years in a similar condition.” Her features somber. “Left unchecked, it’s just the start of what’s to come,” she warned. “More people are going to die and it won’t just be the ones whose eyes turn after death.”
He spoke through an almost-locked jaw. “Just spit it out, Fallon.”
Fallon scowled. “It’s Dennis.”
Rage unlike Travis could recall grabbed hold of him as he analyzed everything she’d said thus far and thought about what’d been done to the two women who’d didn’t deserve the brutal death they received. He moved so fast, he was nose-to-nose with Fallon’s face, her soft pants bathing his face with each puff.
“You fucking knew this whole time, and that was the reason you asked me out, wasn’t it? Just to get close to the case and if th
at stunt hadn’t happened earlier, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now, would we? More bodies would have turned up, and no one would have been the wiser until we found the last one.” He was yelling and not giving a flying fuck.
“And then you tell me it’s someone I know. Dennis has been through enough in his young life. He doesn’t need to be dealing with whatever your fucking brother did to him.”
As angry as he was, he noticed that Fallon didn't flinch one time. She showed one emotion now: a rage surpassing his own.
Fallon expected Travis’s anger. She didn’t however, expect him physically moving that fast. Did he even know what he’d done? Now that his tirade had ended, it was her turn. She placed her index finger smack-dab in the solo flex area of his chest, sending thin veins of straight electricity into hardened muscle.
“Seems it’s escaped that microscopic brain of yours that I was exiled to this tiny hellhole of a town without any knowledge of my brother living or passing through here until this afternoon.” She pushed harder, and as electrical fingers began to spread, her anger called thunder above. “Fuck yes, I know what my brother and the damn Sortaneph are capable of.” Zapping harder, she watched as Travis’s body began to shake. “You can continue to lie to yourself and say you didn't witness the evil that tainted that kid’s eyes. That is not my fault either.”
Fallon saw the moment comprehension hit his dumb ass. “So yes, I asked the foolishly handsome cop out, and you know what? I’m glad I fucking did it, too.” The whole time she had been pushing him until she had him arched over the rail. “You want to know why?”
It was a very good thing Travis kept his mouth shut and just nodded.
“Because I wouldn't have learned there is somebody in this world I can actually take to bed without killing. They were kissing distance. Bodies flush. “And that happens to be your dumb ass.” And if this—” Poke. “—carries on any further than tonight, don’t get it twisted again, I am not—.” Poke. “—nor will I be my brother’s keeper. Here’s another thing—” Poke. “—Mr. Big Shot.” Poke. Poke. “You got some explaining to do. No other creature has been able to stand the full force of my rage, not even my twin brothers.”
Destiny Strikes Page 14
