Ollie walked down the hall through the main dance room. The room looked like it could use a coat of wax on the hardwood and four coats of paint on the putrid gray or green walls, and a table might help. Forget the table--there wasn't a place to sit in the whole area. And was that a kitchen counter that passed for a bar? I can't believe he had the nerve to put a security system on this joke. The poor fool had hit bottom for sure. She walked around the counter to a door behind the so-called bar.
She wanted to laugh. He was so busy trying to play gangster. Damn, kid, go home.
Putting her ear to the door, she picked up breathing sounds. Heavy breathing and moaning. Had to be a prostitute. No self-respecting woman would stoop that low. She turned the knob and let the door swing open slowly.
"What the hell?" The kid turned his chair around to face his rickety desk and the door. Shock was on his face.
Nope, wrong. Porn. Even prostitutes had standards.
"So sad." Ollie laughed. At least his pants were on, meaning he hadn't gotten into the movie just yet. She didn't need that image in her head for the rest of the day. Yuck. "So is this what you are having for lunch?"
"If it ain't the devil." He cursed nervously.
"In the flesh." She leaned into the doorframe, sucking in the sweetness of her peppermint stick. A cool relief amid all his self-corruption.
He ran his hands through his brown hair. His skin was rosy, probably from watching the movie. His green eyes darted past her, looking for his guards. He was too wiry to be boss of anything, but he tried. Trying to be like Daddy. Too bad he hadn't taken notes.
"So …" His hand lowered behind the dilapidated desk.
"Do you owe that many people?" Ollie shook her head. "And if you reach for that gun under your desk, I swear you'll be dickless. Though it ain't doing you much good." Ollie narrowed her eyes as he slowly arose from the desk with his hands in the air. "Now, guess how much I'm getting paid."
"Falco," he groaned, knowing what her prices ran. And the fact that he had to think about it meant he did owe more than one person. Damn, that was it. She wasn't taking any more jobs that had the name Hooser attached to them.
"Five million. Hurry up, so I can leave, because you make me ill."
"Five. I only borrowed--"
"Falco's pretty annoyed with you, so he tacked on interest." Actually, he hadn't set the cost, but by expensive Falco meant tack on a price that the brat would never forget.
"Look around. Does it look like I have that kind of money?" He grew frantic, and his hand went down to the desk.
"Don't get twitchy," Ollie growled. "What's you and your sister's account number?"
"No!" he shouted.
"Then your dad's."
"They'd kill me."
"Really?" Ollie pointed the gun to his head. "You do realize I've been hired to do that very thing if you don't pay." She couldn't help but grin at his foolishness. She took out her cell and began to dial. "My patience with you is almost gone." And so is my fifteen minutes. "In one minute, I will shoot and then call your sister so she can pick up your carcass."
He began rattling off numbers while Ollie held up the phone for O-no to hear. She put her ear to the receiver, waiting for a confirmation, and hung up once she got it. "Enjoy the rest of your day," Ollie pointed the gun at the TV. "Oh, and I hope to never see you again, or I might just kill you." She shot him with the dart gun before leaving. No need for him to try to shoot her in the back. That would really piss her off.
When she got back to the car, Ellis had his head in a book again.
"You took your time." He read to keep from going in there after her. Which was good.
"Sorry, we were just catching up." She bit down on the peppermint that hadn't quite dissolved.
His head turned away from his book, eyes on her, glaring.
"Okay, okay, bad joke."
Ellis was a worrier, so it was pointless to make light of it. That would just piss him off more.
He cranked up the car. "Call Geo."
()()()
Once they arrived back at Troy's, dinner was ready, and they sat together and ate. After dinner, Ollie washed dishes while she talked with Troy. Ellis flipped the pages in his book as they talked about Mara. Troy swore he was over her, but his voice had a hint of quiver that Ollie picked right up on. Given a month with his sister, Troy would have forgotten Mara. During dinner, she had made him eat all the food on his plate, like a three-year-old. But he loved every minute of it. Ollie could work Troy, but then again, Troy was a sucker for her. Most of the men in their family were.
Flipping the page, Ellis glanced over the top of his book to see that she was finished and drying off plates as Troy put them away. She would go on to convince him to move on and find someone worthy of his attention. Ellis had a mind to get Bones on the case. The kid could match him good and quick. He'd done a great job with Cee and Wolfe--one of the reasons Cee had wanted to come to Atlanta in the first place.
"Maybe you just need to get away from here," she said as he flipped to the next page of his book.
"Why? Business is good here." Troy exhaled smoke as he slouched onto the couch next to Ellis. Troy grabbed the book out of Ellis's hand. Ellis refrained from punching a hole in his chest. "You're readin' a book on the Byzantine Empire. What? No werewolves or love reads? No spy novel?"
"He read the fiction one earlier today on the plane," Ollie informed him.
"Dr. Ellington, why not go back to school to teach? Stop wastin' those doctorates runnin' behind your crazy sister." Troy grinned, clearly seeing the annoyance on Ellis's face.
"Why don't you stop avoiding Ollie already? Or she will never get off the subject." Ellis grabbed back the book to finish his chapter on the Battle of Bulgarophygon.
"Damn." Troy shifted his weight. "Why's it so important for me to get away?" he sighed, giving in, sinking into his plush blue couch.
"You haven't seen Mama in a while, and … I think you need to get away." She sat on the arm of the couch next to him, rubbing her hand over its soft surface.
"She ain't asked to see me."
"Surprise her, like you used to. Or are you worried she will disapprove of the way you are taking care of yourself?" Ollie asked. It wouldn't be long before she reintroduced the proverbial elephant in the room.
"No, I ain't worried, because I know she'll say somethin'. But Ric and Geo are there to keep her company--"
"They aren't Troy," Ollie said in a warm voice.
He got quiet and didn't say anything for a long time. Ellis looked up from his book and could tell Troy's wheels were already turning. The man was smart when he was ready to be. Being House of Stone had two advantages: the first was that they were smart, real smart. However, they could put it in their back pocket if they felt like it. Unlike House of Sun, where it showed no matter how hard they tried to shove it away in the deepest, darkest cave. The other advantage was the technical savvy. Ellis could talk all day about engineering from his books, but Troy could put it in action just by listening. Troy and O-no were the only two Stones in their family.
"Okay, Ollie, I know this ain't all about me," Troy said slowly. "Spill it."
"What do you mean?" Ollie's voice dropped a little. She was contemplating telling him. It would come out sooner or later.
"You got Geo on house arrest and insisted Ric stay with Mama, knowin' he's got a sick wife at home. Now you're badgerin' me to visit. So tell me, what's wrong with Mama?" His gravelly voice grew shaky, as if he expected the worst.
"Mama is over one hundred and fifty years old, Troy. You put the pieces together," Ellis said, taking over for Ollie. He finished the chapter and turned the page.
"Over?" Troy was starting to figure it out.
"More than fifty years over." Ollie said quietly.
Troy cursed under his breath, standing up. He paced the floor. "You and Ellis--?"
"Yeah, we are the only ones who know. And now you."
"How …? How in hell?" he huffed. "What in he
ll are we goin' to-"
"We are going to keep it quiet." Ellis was not going to let the man freak out, because it would not help. "Chill."
"Right. You're right." Troy sat down, then he popped back up. "You know what this means?"
Ellis began to read again, knowing exactly what it meant. But there was no reason to get upset. What was done was done.
"So are you going to visit or not?" asked Ollie.
"Yeah, I'm on that plane with you tomorrow afternoon." He groaned. "Now it makes sense."
"What?" Ollie asked.
"Arms market's in a buzz. Underground's gettin' more work than normal. You might wanna go see Granger tonight."
"He's in town?" Ollie perked up, to Ellis's discomfort. She still had that stupid fascination with the soul possessor.
"I don't know, but it really can't hurt to find out, now, can it?"
Ellis's grip tightened on his book. One person he didn't really want around his sister was Augustus Granger. He respected the man, but his eyes showed a power that reached deep into a person's soul, and he didn't want them peering into Ollie's.
At Level Four, Augustus Granger was the most powerful individual known besides the Oracle. It was noted that the soul possessor could completely destroy a person's will and chain his or her whole being to his existence. That implied that he could control them like puppets if he wished. He could draw in their energy, powers, minds, emotions … his reach could be almost endless.
A Level Four already was at a point at which the power of an individual evolved into more intense energy. The Level Four not only could command a much larger sum of energy, but that person could sense energy around them. The level of energy allowed them to live ten times longer than any of the lower levels. The energy constantly rejuvenated and restored the individual, which aided phenomenally in healing.
And it was believed that Granger wasn't far from Pillar status.
The final level, Pillar, was rarer than all the other levels. The whole body was consumed by the seal, releasing enormous amounts of energy. There was no record of what a Pillar's energy could do or become, but Ellis could only guess. It was said that Pillars could live for thousands of years because of the sustaining effects of their energy. Which meant that if Granger became a Pillar soul possessor, he would be virtually …
Ellis got up to leave the room. He couldn't stand to hear them talk about Granger. This would be more nerve-wracking business that he didn't have the stomach for, not tonight. Maybe it was time for him to go back to teaching.
()()()
Kansas City, Missouri
Mary Alexander listened to one of her underlings give a report. Even after all the protection that she had provided Laura, the woman wouldn't wait for the assassin to come for her. She had killed herself that morning, jumping from the tenth story of her high-rise apartment. Now she was not only down a seer but a personal assistant too. What a damn waste.
What had Laura seen that was so scary? Stories floated around about Demon's Wrath, but no one could confirm it. No one except Augustus Granger.
Augustus was not her favorite person to deal with. The thought of Demon's Wrath was scary, but most of it was considered myth. Granger was the real demon. He was a walking, talking business mogul and a soul possessor--the most powerful recorded. Though he rarely used his talents, just the mention of him gained a response, mostly of respect, partly of fear.
She had just had a meeting with the man about the Oracle situation, and he clearly was not interested. The man was connected to everything, so if he wanted to be Oracle, he could have that too. She was petrified of the man, and the very idea angered her. She was the most powerful Head of the largest House of the whole Structure. She had power over more people than most. She should fear no man. Yet Augustus Granger made her tremble. It was those damn eyes.
There was a glimmer of hope. When she had mentioned Demon's Wrath, she had seen his uneasiness. He had information about the assassin. When she pushed, he cautioned her. If Augustus Granger feared the so-called assassin, then maybe there was truth to the stories. And maybe there was a way to get House of River into the seat of absolute power. It just took finding the assassin. How would she find a no-name that no one knew about? Her only bait had died that morning. And not a shred of evidence was found during their prior investigation with the record keeper. Granger would not give her the answers she sought. Maybe a prophet could help her. Though they could be cryptic, they could lead her down the right path.
So she left the sanctuary of her office, feeling empowered, only to return feeling confused.
Mary had listened to what the prophet had to say. Nothing he'd said made sense. It sounded like he was warning her instead of instructing her. Do not look into the eyes. Look within. Take hold of what is yours before it is taken away. Take it to heart.
Mary wanted to scream after that encounter. Prophets were cryptic, but that had made no since whatsoever. She needed an interpreter, a scholar who could decode messages. She didn't have one, because most of them belonged to House of Sun. But there was rumor of a young child from House Heart that was in the area recently who had a gift of decoding. The child was attending the month long scholastic workshop for Structure geniuses. They would allow Mary a visit, especially since the woman was a good patron. But she would have to hurry, because the program would end any day now.
A knock at the door brought Mary's gaze up from her desk. "What?" She laid her pen aside and leaned back in her chair.
"Ms. Alexander." A tall older woman walked into the room, sucking out all of the air. She was plain and cut like cardboard, flat and thin. Her gray hair was twirled up in a very precise bun, not a hair out of place. Her thin lips were pinched, and her blue eyes were piercing. Her gray suit was a shade darker than her hair.
She had the look of a very strict teacher from a boarding school. Even Mary found her intimidating.
Marissa Ivanski was the personal assistant to the former House of River Head, Nikolai Muranov. Mary had ordered his death personally when he refused to stop getting in her way. If Mary's information was correct, Marissa was an underground specialist. All of her information came from the underground, and every bit of it was accurate. She didn't have a voice in the underground, but she had ears.
So why was she here?
"Marissa." Mary sat, waiting.
"Forgive my intrusion. I was sent over when I was told you needed a new assistant."
Mary lifted an eyebrow, intrigued. Nikolai had been a very effective leader, and many reports stated that it was because of Marissa's aid. He had always relied heavily on her, and Mary had always been curious as to why.
"How would this work? What are you limited to?" Mary wanted to know exactly what kind of help she was getting.
"Ask of me anything you would have asked your other assistant. My abilities match that of your late assistant's."
"Except you can see present images as well, right?"
"Yes."
"You will do." Mary spun in the chair until her legs were out from under her desk. Standing, she gave the woman her tasks. "Call the Collaborative Structure scholastic coordinator, Roger Pinkerton. Schedule a meeting for this evening before the kids leave. I want to see where my money is going," Mary said, and she walked past the woman, heading out the door.
()()()
Atlanta, Georgia
Granger looked at the sea of half-naked bodies gyrating and pumping to the beat of the music. His office was two stories above the dance floor, hidden behind a wall of one-way mirrors. He had to see everything in his club, and his perch allowed just that. Business was as good tonight as every night, so the only thing that bothered him was security. There were a lot of college guys down there, which held possibilities for aggression. Though the bouncers were ready, he just wanted a nice, quiet night. He could sense in the club that only two of the people outside of his staff had seals. All others were normal humans, seal-less. The seal-less were unaware of the world around them, for good reaso
n: the world had enough bigotry and hate. And the Structure had enough problems as it was.
Five hours of travel from airport to airport had drained him. But there was tension in the area, and he needed to put out the fuse before it lit. He wouldn't have complications going down in his operation, no matter what was rustling under the surface. And damn if it wasn't rustling fast.
Sitting back in the chair, he stared up at the motion lighting as it changed colors, illuminating the club. Letting his mind rest for a few moments before he started making phone calls would help him stay sharp. Why had he given Allison the night off? Why was he in that club, knowing good and well that his manager could handle things here? Something had pulled him to the club, and he didn't like it.
A beep from his phone brought him to his feet, and he reached into his back pocket for the cell. He looked down at the bar, where the bartender had a phone in hand.
Flipping it open, he put his ear to the receiver and said, "Yeah."
"Someone is here to see you." The bartender nodded to the other end of the bar, where he saw Troy, drink in hand. Good ol' Troy. But how did the brother know he was here? And why the visit? That wasn't his style. Respect was high on Troy's to-do list, and he had a "call first" mentality. Strictly appointment only. So that meant one of two things: either he was here with someone who wanted Granger's attention, or some clash was going down that needed his immediate attention.
Granger's chest tightened as he scoped out the whole club. His eyes stretched the whole span of the place until he saw it, or rather her. Ollie. Both scenarios were now a possibility.
Children of Sun (Oracle's Legacy) Page 5
