"Wish I could have seen it."
"Want to? See it, that is?" Ashe asked. "I warn you, it may be disorienting at first."
"You can do that?" Trajan sounded surprised.
"Yeah. I just have to do this," Ashe pressed fingers against Trajan's forehead. Images from earlier in the day played out in Trajan's mind.
* * *
"Tanner got it," Trajan settled on one of Winkler's guest chairs. "I guess the good thing about the kid handing out justice is there's no mess to clean up."
"Matt's got some of his flying to Tanner's compound—the kid gave me the location," Winkler sighed. "That place will be history after tonight. Matt plans to bomb the place."
"I don't blame him. Does he plan to use the excuse that a rival cartel attacked?"
"Yep. Who's gonna argue with that logic?"
"Nobody. Marco asked Cori to marry him. A few weeks early."
"The fact that she's wearing a big diamond was no giveaway, I'm sure."
"The kid gave me the images from Tanner's takedown. Amos plugged him, center of the chest. I have a feeling we have one less poison dart in the cabinet downstairs."
"You think I care?" Winkler snorted. "The Grand Master almost laughed his ass off when I told him."
"Any word on Wildrif?"
"Not yet. I got communication from Wlodek, through the Grand Master, too. Remember Radomir?"
"Yeah," Trajan nodded.
"He tailed Curtis Roberts. Roberts was going straight to the media, to let them know that werewolves and vampires were real. Radomir disabused him of that notion."
"That vampire is badass," Trajan grinned.
"Almost as badass as Montegue."
"No argument, there. Seemed to develop a soft spot for the kid, though."
"Both of 'em did."
* * *
"One of your informants is dead," Calhoun laid a folder on Curtis Roberts' desk.
"Who?"
"Zeke Tanner, in Mexico."
"What? That can't be right," Curtis stood quickly, staring in disbelief at his assistant.
"I hear through channels that Matt Michaels has the location of Tanner's compound. It'll be bombed to the ground before daybreak tomorrow morning."
Curtis cursed and tossed his chair across the room. He'd gotten the best information from Tanner. Now, Tanner was dead and Wildrif, Tanner's informant, had disappeared.
"It's that kid," Curtis snarled. "Somebody miscalculated. What the hell is he, Calhoun?"
"I'm not sure, sir."
"Well, I'm no longer interested in forcing him to work for me. In fact, maybe we ought to do a little bombing of our own. See what excuse we might use to attack two locations in South Texas, come Monday night."
"I will, sir. Right away."
* * *
"How do I look?" Friesianna smoothed the skirts of an embroidered silk gown.
"Like the Queen you are," Parlethis flattered Friesianna. "We are to meet outside the gate in Kansas City. If things become untenable, it merely requires the opening of the gate so we might pass through. Easy enough to get away, if we must."
"Good. Who is going with me? I wish to leave Rabis here. He keeps prattling about that wretched H'Morr and I can get nothing coherent from him."
"I have five more waiting to travel, my Queen."
"Very well. Let us go." Friesianna placed her hand on Parlethis' arm.
* * *
"I am ready, Laridael," Baltis announced. "Do you have my Destroyers ready to accompany us?"
"I do, my King," Laridael bowed.
"Then let us go."
"As you say."
Chapter 18
"That's Alex, all right. What did they do to you, buddy?" Bear knelt beside the buffalo and leaned his forehead against Alex's jaw.
"Tanner's dead," Amos Thompson muttered. "Kid helped me get him."
"Good. Amos, where were you thinking about putting Alex? I got an offer from the Grand Master. He says we can bury him on his property, in North Dakota. He'll be the only shifter laid to rest, there."
"I think that's a good idea. How are we going to ship the body?"
"I can do it," Ashe walked in. "If you don't mind."
"Kid, you can do anything you want. You gave us closure, today," Mr. Thompson said. "Bear and I will dig his grave. It's fitting."
"Mr. Winkler?" Ashe turned to Winkler, who'd followed him inside the media room.
"Kid, we'll all go. I'll leave Ace behind, to watch the house."
"Okay."
"Give me ten minutes to warn the Grand Master, and we'll be ready."
* * *
"Sara, please pick up. Please. Mom's dead, and I need you to talk to me." Randy couldn't keep the sob from his voice.
"Randall, your mother tried to kill me," Sara said, reluctantly answering the call. Randy had phoned her landline when she refused to answer her cell.
"What?" Randy whispered.
"You heard. She was here, telling me she was either going to shoot me or let her werewolf tear me to pieces. I'm sorry, Randall, but we have no future."
"No, baby. Please. The werewolves took her down. I don't have anybody, now."
"Did you know she was on the run? That she might be headed this way?"
"I knew she was running, but I didn't know she'd—do this." Randy sounded defeated.
"If that man hadn't shown up, I'd be dead, now. Is that what you wanted?"
"No. Baby, that's the last thing I'd ever want. I love you. I mean it. Please don't shut me out."
"I'll consider it," Sara snapped. "I'm leaving for the airport in a few minutes. Mr. Wright invited me to attend the shapeshifter meeting in Star Cove. It's up to you, Randall, whether we have a future or not." Sara hung up.
* * *
"That's it—six feet," Bear lifted himself out of the large hole he, Amos Thompson and the Grand Master had dug on Weldon's property. "How are we going to lower him into the grave?"
"I can do it, if you'll allow it," Ashe offered. He, Winkler, Trace, Trajan, Sali, Florence Thompson and Marco had stood by while a werewolf and two shapeshifters dug Alex Thompson's grave.
"I'll allow it," Amos Thompson nodded to Ashe.
"All right." Alex Thompson's white buffalo was levitated gently upward and then floated through the air before turning on its side while being lowered into the ground.
"Ready?" Bear asked Amos, once Alex's body was laid gently at the bottom of the grave.
"Yes. Alex, we've missed you. I'll miss you as long as I live." Amos Thompson lifted a handful of dirt and let it fall in the grave.
"Alex, we did fine work together. You always had my back and were the best friend I could ever ask for." Bear let a handful of dirt fall.
"I only met you a couple of times. You, Bear and I got pretty drunk at a bar in San Diego. Happy trails, friend." Weldon dropped his handful of soil.
"I'll get the rest," Ashe said quietly. The pile of dirt from the excavation disappeared and reappeared, covering the grave. "Mr. Thompson," Ashe held out his hands and a folded American flag appeared. "This is for your brother's service."
* * *
"Ashe, does this mean you're back to normal?" Winkler asked.
"Mr. Winkler, there'll be no normal for me. If you're asking if the drug is out of my system, it's pretty close to being gone."
"Why do I get the feeling you're not telling me something?" Winkler accepted a drink from Trajan, who settled on the other end of the sofa inside the media room. Ashe had already dropped Bear Wright and Amos and Flossie Thompson off in Star Cove before bringing the others back to Winkler's beach house.
"Mr. Winkler, do you remember the old Ashe—before I got the drug?"
"Yeah. Pretty much."
"There's a new Ashe coming. I don't know how to explain it."
"Like Ashe, two-point-oh?" Winkler lifted an eyebrow.
"More like Ashe, nine-point-oh," Ashe muttered, staring at his hands. "Get ready."
"Ready for what?" Winkler asked, just a
s the beach house suffered a jolt.
"What the hell was that?" Trajan was on his feet, followed quickly by Winkler.
"Armageddon just started," Ashe's eyes were dark and filled with stars.
* * *
"What's happening?" Friesianna screamed, although her words sounded garbled and drawn out. Light bent and flickered about her crown, rendering her helpless.
Baltis shouted for Laridael as light and power flowed from his crown, crashing into that formed by Friesianna's coronet. Neither could move; they were held immobile, as were the ones surrounding them as each crown fought for supremacy.
"Open the gate," Friesianna shouted at Parlethis.
"I cannot move my hands," he wailed.
* * *
"Hurricane-force storms are forming across the Eastern Seaboard," the meteorologist announced on the ten o'clock news. "Earthquakes are occurring in the Pacific northwest, South America, and Japan. Tsunami warnings are going out across the globe. Six storms have formed off the coast of Africa in the past two hours, moving at incredible speeds into the Atlantic. Rain is falling in record amounts in Great Britain. Tornadoes are crossing the Midwest, leaving destruction and death in their wake. This is unprecedented, folks. Take emergency precautions if you live in the path of any of these storms or earthquakes."
"Jeez, kid, it's pouring outside." Winkler stood at the wide windows overlooking the deck, just as a rumble of thunder shook the beach house.
"Can you do anything about that?" Trajan, who sat near Ashe, asked.
"Not right now. Ashe nine-point-oh is still not ready."
"How much time is left? You can't do anything about this before that?" Winkler settled on the sofa again.
"I need power I don't have, yet. Things will get worse before I can do anything about this."
"That doesn't sound good," Trace sighed, flopping onto the sofa beside his brother. Sali, who'd settled on the floor to watch the news with the others, turned to Ashe in surprise.
* * *
Child?
Grandfather? Ashe sat upright, waking from a sound sleep when the mindspeech came from Rabis.
The crowns are locked in battle, child, fighting for supremacy. Is there nothing you can do?
Not now. Wildrif managed to get somebody to give me a drug, and I'm still disabled. It'll take two days before I can do anything.
This is more than unfortunate. Wildrif deserves death for this.
Wildrif managed to convince a vampire to make him vampire. I think I can do something about that, at least.
He is making the turn? I will point my thought in that direction.
Grandfather, I've pointed my thought in that direction. Do you want me to come for you?
No, child, although I appreciate the offer. My father told me before his death that I must see this thing through. He said that you would come for me when I finally left the Bright race of my own accord.
Then I'll see you when that happens.
Yes, that is my sincerest wish. To see you then.
* * *
"We can drive or you can take us. Your choice," Winkler told Ashe while he, Sali, Trace, Trajan and Marco waited for toaster waffles to pop up.
"It's still raining," Ashe sighed. "I'll take us."
"Good. We need to be in Star Cove around ten."
"I can do that." Ashe nodded
"Why don't we have a second toaster?" Trace moaned.
"I'll go get two. Give me a minute." Ashe disappeared, returning a few minutes later with two new toasters in boxes. "There. Now we can make six waffles at a time."
"Why didn't we think of this before?" Winkler pulled more boxes of toaster waffles out of the freezer. "Do we have enough syrup?"
* * *
"Hi, Mom." Ashe hugged his mother when she answered the doorbell.
"Come in," she waved all her visitors inside; the front porch wasn't large enough to hold everybody. "It's so wet out. Is this weather usual for late August?" she asked as Winkler stepped inside.
"No, Adele. It's extremely unusual."
"Well, it came this morning, and thank goodness it arrived in a covered carrier," Adele had hands on her hips. "You didn't tell him, did you?"
"We didn't say a word," Winkler grinned.
"About what?" Ashe and Sali said together.
"Come on, it's in the third stall in the garage."
* * *
Two Elemaiya, who'd thought to pull the Bright Queen and Dark King away were now dead. Friesianna and Baltis had stopped speaking; both were gripped in a paralysis created by their crowns. While they'd been yards apart in the beginning, their bodies were inching closer together while their subjects watched in horror.
Mindspeech had been sent to both camps, and Bright and Dark Elemaiya were appearing in a panic. They were aware that the Earth was in trouble and desired to leave it behind by going through the only gate they might use. All were dismayed to learn the gate wouldn't open, and then were terrified to see that the crowns were engaged in a terrible battle, the Bright Queen and Dark King helpless to stop it. While the weather, earthquakes and other natural disasters across the Earth increased, Kansas City had become the eye of the storm. All Elemaiya seemed caught in the vortex, with no way to escape its impending wrath.
* * *
"This is causing the problems." Curtis Roberts tossed a photograph on the President's desk. "Go ahead, ask Mr. Michaels over there, if the boy didn't create that earthquake in Canada."
Curtis had finally gotten what he'd been asking for—a meeting with the President. The circumstances couldn't have been less ideal.
"Matthew, is this true?" The President lifted the photograph—a close-up of Ashe from the British Embassy raid, and turned questioning eyes on Matt.
"He didn't do it to harm anyone. He did that to help. Something else is creating chaos out there." Matt angrily flung out an arm.
"The boy is an alien. You know that. He's out to destroy the world if we don't stop him," Curtis pressed his point. "He's one of the creatures who slaughtered those children and anyone else who got in their way. We have to stop this now, if we expect to survive."
"And just what do you propose we do?" The President asked.
"Kill him," Curtis snapped. "The only way we can."
"Are you crazy?" Matt shouted at Curtis.
* * *
"Wow," Sali breathed, running a hand along the fins of the red, vintage Cadillac. "Ashe, this is awesome. Just like we always wanted." The top had been folded back, revealing the cream interior of the vehicle. The leather was in pristine condition.
"Yeah." Ashe's arms were crossed over his chest as he examined the car. "This is exactly what I wanted."
"I'd say take it for a drive, but you don't want to go out in that storm," Winkler said. "Save it for a sunny day."
"At least sit in the driver's seat, just to see what it feels like," Sali coaxed.
"Yeah." Ashe opened the door and slid into the driver's seat. Sighing, he placed both hands on the wheel and everything shifted.
* * *
"What am I doing here?" Ashe studied himself in the dim, metallic reflection of a hotel's elevator doors.
What you are supposed to do, while I Change What Was, filtered into his mind. It was a woman's voice.
Where are you? Ashe returned, looking around. He was alone in the plush, carpeted space outside the elevators.
You cannot see me now. You cannot recognize me in the future, when we meet for the first time.
Why?
Some things must happen as they will.
But, why am I here?
A better question would be when are you.
When am I?
You'll see.
The elevator doors opened, and Ashe blinked in surprise. Lissa—Winkler's Lissa—stood inside. Ashe boarded the elevator, determined to follow her.
"Going to the soda machine, too?" Lissa asked, as Ashe got off on the second floor of the hotel and walked with her.
"Yeah," Ashe no
dded. He wanted to ask her about Winkler. Ask if she loved him. Tell her that Winkler still grieved for her. He didn't.
"This dollar isn't working," Lissa sighed after trying it for the fourth time. Each time, the soft drink machine spit out the crumpled bill in an electronic snit.
"Try this." Ashe dug in his pocket and pulled out another dollar—one that wasn't quite as crumpled or ragged around the edges.
"Thanks." Lissa smiled and traded her dollar for his. "Technology makes it impossible to buy orange soda," she quipped. "Film at eleven."
Ashe grinned. He and Lissa watched as the soda machine accepted Ashe's dollar and dropped a bottle of orange soda in the bin.
"Success," Lissa pulled the bottle out and unscrewed the cap. "Thanks again," she smiled and turned to walk away.
* * *
"Ashe, buddy, where did you go?" Trajan knelt beside the open car door as Ashe drew in a painful breath. He was back in the present, his hands gripping the wheel of Donald Workman's Cadillac.
"Winkler," Ashe turned to the Dallas Packmaster, whose face bore a worried frown, "This car belonged to Lissa's husband. Before he died."
"You're not kidding, are you?"
"Nope. She was funny, wasn't she?"
"And really smart."
"Mr. Winkler, take this." Ashe handed the crumpled bill he held to Winkler.
"What's this?" Winkler smoothed out the bill.
Something Lissa touched, Ashe replied mentally.
"Kid," Winkler almost unraveled.
"Mr. Winkler, I need to talk to you. In private," Ashe said, climbing out of the car.
* * *
"Matt, I'm sorry. Even you admit this child is powerful, and that he created the earthquake in Canada. There's no reason to believe that he isn't causing this mess, too. We don't have enough resources globally to handle the difficulties we're facing. We've got to stop this, and if one death will do it, then so be it." The President wasn't mincing words.
"It won't be just his death, it'll be ours," Matt hissed.
"I've already got cooperation from the Secretaries and Joint Chiefs," the President ignored Matt's warning. "We're going in—today."
* * *
"Mr. Winkler, things are about to get worse," Ashe rubbed his forehead.
"What do you mean, worse?" Ashe had pulled Winkler, Trajan and Trace into his father's study.
"The nutcase in Washington—that Curtis Roberts guy?"
Legend of the Ir'Indicti 5 - Destroyer Page 21
