The Church of Sleep (Central Series Book 5)

by Zachary Rawlins

  He brushed her hair away from his lips, and then paused.

  “Eerie?” Alex sounded a bit awed. “Your hair is blue.”

  It was, and not just the few damp strands clinging to his fingers, but her whole head of hair was azure, the color of water in a cartoon.

  “That’s the way you like it. Isn’t it?”

  “Yes, but…a minute ago, wasn’t it blonde?”

  “Don’t worry about things that aren’t important,” she said, kissing him gently. “Be here with me.”

  He sank down on the bed beside Eerie. Her skin smelled like sandalwood and her lips tasted of burnt sugar, while he seemed to be all elbows and blunt fingers. She laughed kindly at his clumsy attempts, and took his hand, guiding it gently beneath the soft fabric of her underwear.

  Alex caressed her hesitantly, repeating the caresses that drew moans and sighs from her. Eerie bit her lip and tugged at his hair, her thighs trembling against his arm. Alex’s nerves resonated with every movement, tides of raw pleasure washing across the smoothened surface of his mind.

  He kissed her breasts, and then moved slowly down to her belly, her hands pulling urgently at his hair. He looked up at her, her head thrown back into the pillow, framed between the white of her thighs, and hesitated.

  “Would you…do you want me to…?”

  “Oh, yes,” Eerie said, closing her eyes. “Please do.”

  ***

  “I know we haven’t always gotten along, Katya, but you are Alex’s cousin and confidant…”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  “…and I’m quite certain we are going to be a fixture in each other’s lives for some time to come. I’d really prefer to be friends.”

  “Noted.”

  “And…I do need you to take care of Gaul Thule.”

  “Why?” Katya set aside her empty salad bowl. “What’s so important?”

  “He had my parents killed,” Emily said, suddenly very preoccupied with her dough. “It was all rather awful.”

  “He…why would he do that? Weren’t they already…?”

  “He had already stripped them of name and title when my sister joined the Outer Dark, and I…” Emily sighed, stirring the smaller of two pots on the range. “They had been confined to the old family estate since I left Central, subjected to telepathic monitoring. They cooperated with everything. They were harmless. As parents, they were not the greatest, but they deserved far better than what they got.”

  “If they were no threat, why did he have them killed?”

  “I’m not sure,” Emily said, rifling aimlessly through a spice rack. “I think Gaul wanted to know that I wouldn’t stay on the sidelines, or work both sides against the other, or anything of that nature. He wanted to be certain that I would get involved.”

  “Against him and his family?”

  “I don’t understand it, either,” Emily said, shaking her head. “Wouldn’t you say it’s similar to what he did to Anastasia, though?”

  Katya considered it.

  “Maybe,” she said, eventually. “This really isn’t my thing. Usually I just kill people. Nobody asks me questions.”

  “Give it a try, maybe. Speaking of questions, I heard a disturbing rumor the other day,” Emily said, watching Katya closely. “I heard that you and Lord Henry North already know each other.”

  Katya turned white. Then she turned her head and spat into the sink.

  “Every time I relax around you, you do that,” Katya said, her color slowly returning. “Who tells you this stuff?”

  “Various people. You’d be surprised. I know about all sorts of things.”

  “That was a long time ago.”

  “Yes, and most of the principals are dead. But as rumor would have it…”

  Katya nodded queasily.

  “You already know you’re right. They weren’t a big deal, back then. A Great Family, maybe, but broke and powerless until he married the heir to the Morales seat. People say his old man was the bad one, but Henry North is fucking scum, too.”

  “I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to make fun,” Emily said, wiping her hands on her apron. “I just had to know if it was true. I heard it was horrible.”

  “It’s never a good thing, for an assassin to be taken prisoner,” Katya said, her face neutral.

  “You were so young, though!”

  “That probably made it worse. You know you can’t ever tell Alex about this, right?”

  “He doesn’t know?”

  “Not exactly,” Katya said, shaking her head. “I told him a little, when he was having a rough time himself. You know about the thing with the Weir?”

  “In a hotel room in San Francisco,” Emily said quietly. “He was assaulted. It still bothers him.”

  “It was bad, and he was feeling bad about it. I told him a little about what happened to me. No details. I didn’t say anything about the North Cartel. He never really asked any questions. He probably thinks that Anastasia had them killed.”

  “I wondered about that myself. Why didn’t she?”

  “I asked her not to,” Katya said. “I wanted to move on.”

  “And you never did anything yourself?”

  “I told you I wanted to put it behind me,” Katya said. “I’m not the type to get into revenge.”

  “I find that a little hard to believe.”

  “Because I murder people for a living?”

  “That’s certainly a contributing factor.”

  “It’s the opposite of what you’re thinking. Revenge makes you predictable and easy to anticipate. Assassins don’t live very long as it is. No reason to hurry death along.”

  “I’m not sure if I believe you,” Emily said, working her dough energetically. “No offense.”

  “You’re still not much of an empath, then?”

  “I like to think I’m at least a bit improved,” Emily said crossly, rubbing floury hands on her apron. “It’s just that you have the most ambiguously colored halo.”

  “Halo? What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “You won’t tell Alex, right?”

  “I won’t. I promise,” Emily said. “But, if you don’t mind me asking, why don’t you want him to know?”

  “Alex will try to kill Henry North if he finds out,” Katya said. “That wouldn’t go well for Alex. He’s not in North’s league.”

  “I suppose he probably would do something like that, wouldn’t he?”

  “Alex is like a lost puppy,” Katya said. “He falls in love with anyone who doesn’t kick him. But you know that already.”

  “Better than most.”

  “Not anymore, I’d think,” Katya said. “You sure you want to host dinner tomorrow? You know what the two of them are going to be like.”

  “I really don’t mind,” Emily said, straightening her apron. “That’s all in the past. I’m happy if it works out for them.”

  “Right.”

  “I really am! Truly. I’m completely over Alex Warner.”

  “I’d be more inclined to believe you if you acted like it.”

  “What did I do?”

  “Never mind. Fuck it.” Katya hopped down from the counter. “How long do I have before we do this thing?”

  “A few hours at least. Tomorrow is perhaps more likely. I’m not at all sure when it will be possible to send you anywhere.”

  “Really? I thought you could just sort of walk wherever…?”

  “That is a useful trick, but an exhausting one,” Emily said. “I’d like to see the fixed apport station working before we do anything. I don’t know where Gaul is right now, in any case, just where he will be, and that won’t happen for a day or so. We have plenty of time.”

  “I can wait,” Katya said, looking very impatient. “I know you retrieved Renton Hall when you had me picked up,” Katya said. “Where is he?”

  “You can see him in the morning,” Emily said, touching Katya gently on the shoulder. Her voice was pow
erfully suggestive, laced with soporific undertones. “You are exhausted, Katya, and you need to get some sleep, before you make a mistake and something terrible happens to you.”

  Katya blinked hard, and Emily guided her into a reclining chair in the living room just before her eyes closed, her chin slowly drifting toward her chest.

  Emily resolved to have Vivik transport Katya back to her room after dinner, and returned to her kneading, pleased to finally have a little peace and quiet.

  ***

  Her fingers knotted in his hair, her thighs stuck to him. Bliss resounded between them, an alternating current that made his hair stand on end. He felt a tremendous heat when he touched her sweat-slick skin and a strange and pleasurable tightness in his chest, his body singing a song with which he was unfamiliar.

  The Changeling’s body expressed her emotions chemically, psychedelic compounds activating in her sweat and saliva and pheromones, heightened by contact, by touch, by caress. Their protocols intertwined like an echo of their bodies.

  It was the most beautiful feedback cycle, the best sort of vicious circle.

  Her skin told stories when they touched, as if there were braille embedded in the smooth skin of her cheek or her breastbone, and the air was thick with the scents of sandalwood and jasmine.

  She tugged on his hair, urging him up until they were face to face.

  They kissed, their hands and lips moving of their own volition, the rhythms of heart and nerve in perfect harmonic accordance.

  He was clumsy and thick fingered in his ardor. She guided him inside of her with her eyes closed, biting her lip, her face contorted with a sensation that was a distant cousin of pain. He sank into her as if she were a sun-warmed ocean, the taste of her still on his lips.

  Eight

  Day Two

  Xia was waiting in her room when she slipped in.

  He did not say anything, so Alice felt comfortable doing the same.

  She dropped her bag on the carpet, not thinking particularly about the sound that it made when it hit the floor, wet and heavy.

  “I’m back,” Alice said, yawning as she kicked off her shoes. “Did anything happen while I was gone?”

  Alice pulled her sweater over her head and tossed it on the ground, revealing her intricate Tree of Life tattoo, every line of the massive tree and the Hebrew characters that surrounded it fresh and crisp across her muscled back.

  “Good. Are the kids okay? Ready to go?”

  Xia nodded, while Alice peeled off her jeans.

  “We’ve got, what, about four or five hours before the apport station could go online, right? I was going to let it go, since we are short on personnel and experience, but I just can’t do it.” Alice opened the door to the bathroom. “What do you say we pay a visit to the apport station, and see if Alistair is still hanging around?”

  Xia nodded as she pulled off her bra.

  “I…I had a weird night.”

  Xia just stared.

  “I need a shower,” Alice said, a strange look crossing her face. “You get the kids organized, okay? We meet down in the lobby in twenty minutes.”

  ***

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I appreciate the sentiment, but…”

  “This piece of excrement would have killed you,” Daniel said, his boot on the back of the Thule Operative’s head, grinding his face into the floorboards. “If we hadn’t intervened, they would have…”

  “I know what they did, and what they would have done,” Chandi said, with an expression of irritation. “I knew the possibilities before I agreed to join the Black Sun. I’m not naïve.”

  “Why then?” Daniel ignored Aníbal’s muffled cries as he put more weight on the back of his head. “What’s the point?”

  “Chandi is precognitive,” Simeon reminded him. “I want the bastard dead too, but perhaps she has seen something…?”

  “I do not ‘see’, Simeon. It is all numbers to me,” Chandi explained. “I do not care for unnecessary bloodshed. That’s all there is to it.”

  “But…”

  “I would spare everyone, if it were up to me, regardless of sides, actions, or intent.” Chandi shrugged. “If you wish to respect my opinion, then you have it.”

  Simeon nodded. Daniel grimaced and muttered curses, but he took his foot from Aníbal Estrada’s head.

  “You heard the nice lady,” Daniel said, prodding the man onto his back. “She is a nice lady, isn’t she? You better be grateful, because I would cut you into pieces. You understand how lucky you are?”

  Aníbal nodded, bleeding from the nose, his eyes blank and terrified.

  “Say you’re sorry!” Daniel kicked him in the side. “Apologize to Miss Tuesday!”

  “I’m sorry!” Aníbal screamed, reaching for Chandi’s foot. “I’m so sorry, Miss Tuesday! I didn’t mean…”

  “You meant it,” Daniel said, stomping on Aníbal’s outstretched hand. “This woman is your savior. You don’t lie to your savior; you beg them for forgiveness.”

  “Daniel, please,” Chandi said, touching his arm. “Don’t hurt him.”

  “I can’t do that,” Daniel said, straddling Aníbal’s chest with a satisfied expression. “This coward needs to learn a lesson.”

  “That’s not…I don’t want you to…”

  “I will let him live,” Daniel said, sliding his machete beneath Aníbal’s wispy beard. “That’s all, Miss Tuesday. I want them to know that there are consequences to kidnapping and torturing Black Sun Operators. This is a preventive measure.”

  “But…”

  “Come along, Chandi,” Simeon said, gesturing toward the door. “We are not safe here.”

  Chandi hesitated.

  “Please, Miss,” Aníbal whispered. “Don’t leave me with him. I’m sorry! I promise, I won’t…”

  “That’s right,” Daniel said, nicking his chin with the tip of the machete, a thin trickle of blood mixing with the sweat on Aníbal’s neck. “You won’t, will you? Not ever again.”

  “Daniel…”

  “Let’s go,” Simeon said, putting his hands on Chandi’s thin shoulders and guiding her to the door. “You don’t need to see this.”

  “Yeah. Get her out of here, Simeon. Aníbal and I need a little alone time,” Daniel said, grinning at the sobbing man pinned beneath him. “I’ll catch up in a minute.”

  Simeon continued to push Chandi along until they were walking through knee-deep weeds in the open fields outside the estate walls, the barn receding into the predawn darkness behind them.

  “Will he…?” Chandi glanced back nervously. “Will Daniel keep his promise?”

  “He won’t kill him,” Simeon assured her, alert for any potential pursuit or observation, constantly scanning their surroundings. “Daniel is an honest man and a good Operator.”

  “Yes, but…”

  “He will keep his word,” Simeon repeated. “That is the most you can expect.”

  Chandi followed him in silence until they made it in sight of the road.

  “I should thank you, shouldn’t I? I truly am grateful, Simeon. I was not at all sure that anyone would come, despite my prescience. When in such dire straits, it is one thing to know, I’m afraid, and quite another to believe.”

  “The Mistress of the Black Sun does not abandon her people, and she does not forgive harm done to them,” Simeon said, obscurely embarrassed. “I was ordered to recover you, Chandi. It is Lady Martynova to whom you owe your thanks.”

  “I will thank her, too, then,” Chandi said, accepting his help down the crumbling slope to the road. “My gratitude to you – and to Daniel – stands.”

  Simeon paused to collect his kit bag, which he had left concealed beside the road.

  “Listen,” he said, digging through the bag. “Your precognition. Can you…?”

  “I’ll tell you everything I know,” Chandi said. “There is an excellent chance we will be attacked on our way to your camp. The probability that one or two of us survive long e
nough to rejoin the rest of the Black Sun is much greater than the probability of all three of us doing so. It is very likely that the Thule Cartel is already aware of your intervention on my behalf and is presently moving to prevent our escape. It is less likely that they will arrive in time and sufficient force, but not outside of the realm of possibility…”

  Simeon shoved a harness with attached ballistic plating into her arms.

  “Put this on, just in case,” Simeon said, tying off the mouth of the bag and putting the straps over his shoulders. “We’re going to move single-file and stay off the road. No talking, no lights, no…”

  “Wait a moment, Simeon,” Chandi said, frowning at the confusion of straps on the bulletproof vest. “As I mentioned, I’m grateful for your help. With that in mind, I have one other bit of foreknowledge that you might find…heartening, I suppose.”

  Simeon perked up as he slung his rifle over his shoulder.

  “What’s that?”

  “Ranking the likely candidates for marriage to Anastasia Martynova,” Chandi blurted out, blushing furiously, “I have Peter Rurikovich as the least likely…”

  “That makes sense. He’s dead, or so I heard.”

  “…and you as the most probable,” Chandi finished. “At least you have that going for you.”

  ***

  The Auditors piled into a rented van. There were only four seats, so Grigori ended up riding on the floor in the back. Xia drove, while Alice alternately played with her phone and offered up occasional directions.

  Hayley ended up sitting beside Min-jun, infuriated all over again by his apparent composure.

  No one said much of anything until they pulled up to the anonymous industrial park not far from the airport that housed the apport station. Xia found a parking space beside the entrance and killed the engine.