“Where’s Brownie?” I snap at Buns. “We have to get out of here. We’re wasting time!”
“She’s filing a flight plan for us to go to the Gulf of St. Lawrence. She’s also getting in touch with a private charter so she can take care of Henry,” she says, referring to Russell by his fake name. “Chill, sweetie, we can’t do anything but wait right now.” Something catches her eye. Leaning towards me, she touches my neck below the scarf where a trickle of blood trails down to darken the edge of my t-shirt. “Sweetie, this isn’t healing,” she says with her eyebrows drawing together in worry.
“It’s fine,” I respond, waving her hand away irritably. “It doesn’t really hurt anymore,” I lie as the puncture wounds throb. “Have you heard from your contacts at Dominion? Do they have any new information?”
Buns looks over my shoulder at Russell who is pulling tissues from the box on the table near him. I feel him press the tissue softly to the side of my neck and try to mop up my blood. My hand comes up to take the tissues from him and finish the job he started.
“Why, are you planning on starting a war?” she asks.
“Yes. If that’s what it takes,” I reply. “I’ll burn that place down if they don’t give me what I want.”
“Where’s your army?” Buns asks, wrapping a piece of hair around her finger.
“I’m a Seraph. I have the right to command and I will not allow them to deny me,” I say, pissy now because I feel physically awful and the anxiety of being held here for hours while being unable to find out any information on Reed and Zephyr is doing bad things to me.
“Ass kicker,” Russell says under his breath, and I don’t know if he is proud of me or disapproving, but Brownie shows up then, looking irritated. The investigator with her smirks at us and then he walks away, presumably to cash Brownie’s checks.
With her hands on her hips, Brownie says, “Lillian, I’m going on record as saying your plan sucks! Powers suck! The SQ sucks! And, you should get on the plane and go to Zee’s island, so that we can beat the Kappas next semester in field hockey. BUT, since I KNOW you are not going to listen to ME…” she says as her lower lip trembles, “I’ll have to just pray that you come back to us,” she finishes gruffly.
I get up off the couch and launch myself into her arms. “You have to take care of Buns and Russell for me, okay?” I whisper in her ear, feeling her squeeze me tighter.
“No, you’ll have to do that yourself,” she whispers back. Pulling away from me, she says to Russell, “Are you ready to go, Henry?”
Getting up off the couch, Russell pulls me into his arms. Hugging me and lifting me off of my feet, he says into my hair, “I can’t let ya do this—I thought I could, but I can’t—please, Red,” he whispers. I squeeze him tighter—my best friend—the best friend I have ever had and will ever have.
“I’ll never make it if I don’t do this. I’ll die by degrees…in pieces and you won’t be able to pick up all of those pieces, no matter how good you are at loving me,” I say in his ear. “I love you, Russell. Goodbye.” I feel the crushing strength and sorrow in his embrace.
“Now, I want to say somethin’ to yer soul,” Russell whispers brokenly to me as he leans down and speaks to my heart. “Y’all can come back and haunt me, if ya want. I love ya and I always will and I’ll always be lookin’ for ya… no matter what.”
Something twists inside of me and my eyes well up with tears. He doesn’t look at me when he sets me down on my feet, but turns to Brownie and follows her out of the open door of the security office. I stand immobile, watching Russell’s back as he walks away from me until I can no longer see him anymore. He never looks back.
“Are you ready to go?” Buns asks, next to me. I immediately snap out of the trance I’m in.
“Yes,” I nod stiffly.
“Sweetie, the more I think about this plan, the more I think Brownie’s right. It reeks of desperation. We don’t even know for sure that they’re in the Dominion compound I’m taking you to. I could just be delivering you to your execution,” she says. When I turn to look at her, her cornflower-blue eyes show the agony that she feels. “Brownie’s right, I won’t be able to get you out of there once I let you go in. They won’t even let me in the front door, that’s how it is for us.”
She means, that is how it is to be a Reaper and not a Power, and that irritates me. “Ugh. It sounds like some snotty country club,” I say. I wonder what they will think of a half-breed walking in the front door of their elite domain. “Buns, do you think I have a shot at getting in the door or will they kill me out in the open?” I ask, and I watch her pale as she looks around to see who is nearby to overhear our conversation.
“I don’t know, sweetie,” she says, taking my arm and leading me out of the door of the security offices. “This is the worst plan! Let’s see if we can catch up to Brownie. We can go with them, and then come up with something else. Russell is right. This is a suicide mission and I’m an idiot to have thought it would be okay.”
“Buns,” I say, stopping just outside the glass doors to the security area. “I’m doing this with or without your help, but I have to tell you that I really, really need your help. Please do this for me. I promise, I’ll never ask you for another favor.”
“That will be an easy promise for you to keep because I will probably never see you again,” she says as tears escape from her eyes.
“You said that you have some weapons that we can use against them. What are they?” I ask, not letting her see me waiver for even a moment. If she believes that I’ll do this alone, which I will, then she may still help me.
“I do. I have them on the jet. We have to find a car to take us back there,” she says, wiping her eyes. I don’t try to comfort her because I can’t afford to start crying, too. If I do that, I may never stop. It doesn’t take us long to locate someone willing to drive us back to the jet.
Once on board, I have an instant of panic when I realize that our pilot has just left to take a charter flight. “How are we getting there Buns, can you fly?” I ask.
Buns nods. “Of course, sweetie, but I’m not nearly as good at it as Brownie,” she says. I think about the way she drives the Golden Goose, her huge gold-color car back in Crestwood, and then I send up a silent prayer that we will make it to the Gulf of St. Lawrence.
“So, what are the weapons you brought?” I ask, hoping that I will be able to learn how to operate them quickly and efficiently. “Do you think that the SQ found them and confiscated them?” I ask as I think about how they have been all over this plane with dogs and high-tech equipment.
Buns gives me a sheepish look as she says, “Sweetie, these aren’t the Power angel kind of weapons that Zee had you training with. These are more of the ‘feminine’ kind of weapons,” she says, watching my reaction.
“Huh?” I ask.
“Sweetie, most Powers are male. You happened to get a hunter that’s female, but they are rarer than you think,” she says. “We are going to make it really hard for them to kill you,” she says, and when I don’t say anything, she blows out a deep breath. “Okay, these are angels from Paradise. It’s been a while since most of them have been there, so we are going to try to remind them of what they have been missing.”
“What are you saying?” I ask.
“We are going to tease them,” she says.
“How?” I ask, completely puzzled by what she is trying to explain to me.
She bites her bottom lip and goes to the closet in the master bedroom of the plane. When she comes back, I see what she means by what she has in her hands. The outfit Buns gives me to put on is nothing short of indecent, unless you are on the beach in Brazil, but this isn’t Brazil. The top she hands me is a gold metallic mesh of metal tight woven to produce a supple kind of chain mail. It clasps at the neck with a wide gold metal collar and the chain mail only reaches to just below my ribs. It ties behind my back with a thin gold metal chain, leaving my back completely bare and exposing the sides of my breasts be
cause it barely covers me in the front, too. There are matching underwear and a skirt, if you can call it that, because it’s really just a large square of meshed metal chain mail in the front and the equal square of chain mail to cover the rear. Leather buckles woven into the metal squares are used to affix the sides of the garment, leaving the sides of my hips exposed.
“No way!” I say when I see my reflection in the bathroom mirror. “I feel like I’m going to fall out of this top at any minute!” I lift my arm to watch the sides of my breasts strain to get out. “I look like I belong in some kind of elfin army,” I observe scathingly.
“Uh huh,” Buns says, looking pleased. “It’s perfect. I have some gold sandals to go with it. This is what I was going to wear if they let me in the front door, but they wouldn’t.”
“Don’t you think I look a little ridiculous?” I ask, thinking I belong in a Hollywood back lot dressed like this.
“What do you think they will be wearing in there, sweetie, jeans and t-shirts?” she ask wearily. “They are divine angels in a place where they are allowed to be themselves. Some of them won’t be wearing anything at all, I guarantee it.”
“So, I’ll be overdressed?” I ask, and when the visual of what I’m walking into hits me, a blush creeps up my body and I have to look down to avoid eye contact. I haven’t thought about any of this and now it’s making my hands sweat.
“Don’t worry, they have been on Earth a really long time. Most of them will be wearing something—sarongs probably,” she says, and then she shakes her head at me. “If you can’t handle that part of it, then we are in huge trouble.”
“I can handle it,” I snap at her, and she backs off.
“You are still bleeding,” Buns says as blood drips down my neck. The golden collar hides my wound now. I fold up a tissue, pushing it under the collar to stop the blood from showing.
“It’s fine,” I say, avoiding the skeptical look she gives me.
I don’t say anything when she adorns me with thick gold cuffs around my upper arms and ankles. She works on my hair next, pulling some of the strands from the front and weaving them into a halo around my head to meet in the back, securing it with a gold clip while letting the rest of the length flow down my back. When she touches my face to brush a wisp of hair back from it, she pauses, and then places her hand on my forehead with a frown, “Sweetie, you feel hot… you have a fever.”
“I think it’s just residual effects from being bitten,” I reply, trying to shrug it off. I don’t want her to know I’m beginning to feel worse because I need her help, and if she thinks I’m sick, she may change her mind. I manage to placate her as she applies a minimal amount of make-up to me.
Buns steps back and looks at her handiwork. “That’s it, now you have to figure out how to use the weapons I have given you,” she says with a sad smile. “You should try to eat something before we get there. It shouldn’t take more than an hour. I haven’t told them that we’re coming, so they are going to be hostile when I land the plane on their airstrip,” she says in a very serious tone.
“Good. I bet they haven’t had a good fight in a while and this will definitely break them out of their boredom. They can’t resist a challenge,” I reply.
“Sweetie, you have changed,” Buns says, looking at me close. “You aren’t the same girl I met a couple of semesters ago.”
“So much has happened since then. We should go,” I reply, because I don’t want to think about all of the things that have happened since I believed myself to be just human.
She nods and we go together to the front of the plane. Buns prepares everything for take off and I sit in the seat next to her as she talks to the tower. She taxis the plane and we wait an eternity on the runway for the tower to give us the green light to take the plane into the air.
Once we are in the air, I leave Buns to fly the plane as I try to eat something, but the most I can manage is a dry croissant and some water. It tastes like dust in my mouth. I wonder if I will ever be able to eat anything normal again after being bitten by Brennus. The thought of him sends a shockwave of fear through me. The terror I feel at ever seeing him again makes the fear that I’m facing now seem small in comparison. The worst that the Powers can do to me is kill me, but Brennus can torture me, and then make me an undead creature—and his lover. Goose bumps cover me from head to toe and a shiver runs down my spine at the prospect.
I go back to the cockpit in time to hear Buns talking to someone on the radio. The voice is speaking French, and judging by the sternness of his voice, he isn’t too pleased with whatever she had said to him. She pulls the microphone back from her mouth and covers it. “They are telling me I can’t land on their airstrip,” she says, watching me close.
“Tell them that you have something for them, something they have been hunting for and tell them in Angel,” I say. Buns’s face changes. She looks afraid. I know that she is thinking that the moment she tells them that, there will be no going back. She will be essentially sealing my fate.
“Sweetie…”
“Do it,” I urge, putting my hand on her shoulder and squeezing it. “And, if they still won’t let you, tell them you have the Nephilim they have been searching for.”
Buns, turning white, pulls her hand back from the microphone and begins to speak into it in Angel. When she finishes, there is silence on the other end of the radio. We wait for several minutes before the voice returns to bark out commands to Buns.
“They are ordering us to land the plane on their airstrip now,” she says in irritation as she looks at me. Just the expression on her face makes me see what she thinks of their arrogance and I can’t help smiling at her.
“If I ever get like that, Buns, you have my permission to shoot me,” I say wryly.
“No problem,” she replies, taking off her headset and giving it her middle finger.
We circle the landing field once and the altimeter bobs from one side of the horizon line to the other as Buns brings the plane in for a rather rough landing. She gives me the “oops, sorry” look. I shrug because we made it in one piece. Stopping the plane at the end of the runway, she looks at me with indecision because no one has told us what to do once we land.
“Do you think they’ll think this is an ambush?” I ask.
“Probably, they are really paranoid, but I guess it wouldn’t be a very good strategy to just come waltzing up to a plane when you have no idea what it could contain,” she says grudgingly.
“I should probably go then. I don’t want them storming in here like a freakin’ SWAT team. Can you open the door for me?” I ask. I see anxiety in her eyes. “It’s going to be all right—you should have Zee back soon and you two can go to his island together,” I say, trying to sound hopeful.
“Do you feel him, sweetie?” she asks. I know she is asking me if I can feel the butterflies that Reed always gives me when he is near.
“No, but we’re still kind of far from the building,” I say, shaking my head.
I look through the windshield of the plane, seeing the sprawling estate ahead of us down a grassy hill on the edge of the water. The sun is going down now. The water is reflecting the light like diamonds as it surrounds the brownstone chateau on three sides. Brownstone turrets, topped with beautiful terracotta tiles, push their way toward the heavens. Dark, overcast clouds, hanging heavily over the chateau, are being offset by the bright orange glow from the setting sun on the water. It’s causing the silhouette of the massive building to glow like the supernatural beings it houses.
The building looks like it could have come right out of the Italian Renaissance period. The watermarks on the stones remind me of pictures I have seen of Venetian buildings along the canals that show the changing water levels over the passage of time. I don’t know why this is the furthest thing from what I expected their headquarters to look like. I think I was expecting a much more military looking outpost, but then, it’s sort of a castle, which is a military fortress by it’s very design, so I shoul
dn’t be at all surprised.
Buns rises and I walk with her to the door of the plane. She opens the door and lets down the stairs so that I can debark. “I’ll go with you, sweetie,” Buns says, but I shake my head.
“No, stay here. Make sure you are ready to leave at any moment, just in case you have to get out of here in a hurry,” I say. I hug her because I can’t wait any longer. “Thank you for everything, Buns.”
“You have to come back, sweetie. If you see Zee, tell him I miss him,” she says, squeezing me tight.
“I will,” I say, and turning, I step off the plane alone. Facing the Chateau de Pompous Power Angels, I square my shoulders and I walk steadily toward the massive building. The breeze coming off the water is stirring the feathers of my crimson wings. I wish futilely that my wings would work so that I could use them for this mission, but when I try to move them, I succeed only in spreading them out a little.
The scent coming off the water is seductive; it reminds me of Arden Lake in Crestwood with the sun just setting on it like two lovers reuniting after a long day apart. I have to force myself to walk slowly toward it and the chateau. I need to give the angels enough time to assess that I’m not armed and that I have come to them alone, but everything in me is urging me to rush as fast as I can to find Reed and Zephyr.
After walking down the grassy hill, I travel along a cobbled pathway that leads to several sets of windswept stone steps. The steps climb sharply toward the massive structure in front of me. I pause at the last set of stone stairs that lead up to the wooden doors. Before I put my foot on the steps, I realize that twenty or more hostile-looking Powers surround me. They appear soundlessly without my detection. The hair on my arms rises when I hear several low growls, and for some reason, I don’t think they are telling me that they love me. I think that maybe I should say something, but I’m at a loss as to what I should say. “Take me to your leader” sounds too stupid to say out loud so I improvise.
“Hi. I’m here to see Pagan. Can you let her know I’m here? I don’t have an appointment, but I feel fairly sure she will see me,” I say as I let them hear the sarcasm in my voice. I’m here to pick a fight, might as well start now. “Just tell her the Nephilim is here to see her.”
Intuition: The Premonition Series Page 38
