Drift: The Renegades Saga: Book Two

by E. M. Whittaker

  “No. Our hostility over ’nother matter—one no one can change.”

  Travis focused on the twinkling stars, listening to the Latina’s nostalgic tone. “I see.”

  “Aviere see it as gloating, not friendliness. Feud never ends, no matter how sincere someone is.”

  “I guess. I correct her for admonishing Peters, but she’s so patronizing. Reminds me of you two.”

  “I suppose.” Jemina’s lighthearted voice turned uneasy. “After twenty-three years, you think I’d learn. Bad boys go for nice girls… even if she devious puta. Yet it my responsibility to help Aviere grow because of stupid husband.”

  “It’s amazing how jealous you are. Mye’s not chasing your man, but you’re—”

  “I have my reasons,” she countered. “Besides, we’re all to blame, Travis. I can’t blame Gunther for all Aviere’s quirks.”

  Travis tilted his head at Jemina’s hardened tone. “Mye wasn’t always cold, then?”

  “Hell no.” Jemina flicked a hand through the air, as if pushing away the possibility. “Mother kept Aviere in bubble, down to only eating vegan cuisine. Disgusting, if you ask me. Even Aviere hate tofu.”

  The agent’s lips curved into a knowing smirk before placing a knuckle against his forehead. “There’s hope for making her a carnivore yet.”

  “She eat meat once in a while… hamburgers. But we’re losing focus.”

  Travis blinked in surprise when Jemina grabbed his trench coat and rose up on her tiptoes, staring into his dulled hazel eyes. Behind her deep brown eyes, Travis noticed several pulsating bursts, varying between confusion and reconsideration.

  Why is she conflicted? This isn’t typical for—

  “I want to like her, Travis. However, when weak, she makes it difficult. Between everyone coddling her and what I… never mind. Forget what I say.”

  Rodriguez, you’re holding back. You’ve done it ever since our meeting outside the Tethered Mistress.

  He recalled the event between them outside the sports bar before his first assignment ended, where Jemina dressed in a business suit, recounting her past before Aviere emerged with a hangover. As he stared into his colleague’s eyes, he realized why her expression looked familiar—haggard, yet distressed at the same time.

  She’ll crack eventually, but not today. Maybe if I help her, she’ll feed me information about Q later.

  “Rodriguez, you’re not the first person I’ve known who’s leery of Mye. Hell, I’m not sure what to think of her, except mutual respect. Just as you—”

  “You no understand. I break my promise because I believe she should know the truth.” She released him before gazing at the desolate street and thrust a hand down in between her breasts.

  When plastic rustled and a small flame lit next to her mouth, Travis coughed and waved a hand over his nose.

  “I’ve seen you carry purses, so use them. It’s where women store things in America.”

  “Hookers keep money inside breasts. I used to… how I got things for free.”

  “It’s gross,” Travis insisted, voice raising as he reprimanded her. “You work for this organization. You’ve earned everyone’s respect, even if you’re a con artist and flirt with everyone. Act like you have some class.”

  “I lose ‘class’ when my parents abandon me in the States at thirteen years old,” Jemina snapped. “I live in baby Camaro, work in brothel. Did things people paid me to, despite feeling dirty afterward. Class not so important once you lower yourself to survive, sí.”

  “Everyone knows you’re promiscuous, but you’re misunderstanding me.”

  “This job—what we do—you’re right. It classier than being a lowlife whore on Baltimore Street. Better than sex trade, which boys saved me from.”

  “Guess old habits die hard.”

  “I got lucky. Joe and Gunther took on sex traders and my pimp in high school. Not good experience.”

  Travis said nothing while the Latina recounted, smoking more of her cigarette.

  “Didn’t like whoring at first, but there’s excitement once you cross the line. That why I’m against hiding truth from Aviere.” Ruby lips wrapped around the cigarette butt as she finished, dropped the remains and smashed the cancer stick with her pumps. “She already reckless. Gunther is out there, but she not aware of yet. It lead to my favor.”

  “Go on.”

  “Gunther thought stress make her sick, so he hid things and let Aviere experience life with rose-colored lenses. Joseph and I don’t coddle her much anymore, but her brothers do. But you—something about you make you her confidante.”

  Travis reflected on Maurice and Limere—two unusual gentlemen forced together against their will, but two who put aside their differences for their sister. The dynamics between them varied within their divided family, fluctuating every chance Travis met them. Each attempt to patch their relationship resulted in another secret or lie being exposed, which drove Aviere’s family further apart.

  Each one holds the promise of a shattered dream close. Mye calls me pathetic, but her family…

  “You see what Joe and I deal with, sí?”

  “Yes. What was her husband like, anyway?”

  “Overbearing, although… he was attractive.”

  Travis shoved a hand inside his trench coat when the Blackberry vibrated. He pretended to check his phone while Jemina lit a second cigarette. “I wanted to know about this Gunther guy, not his rugged charm, Rodriguez.”

  “Hmph. You wanted to know about him. He lady-killer… turn heads everywhere we went. We were together for a while in middle school, but we better off friends. Every time he turn woman’s head, I grew jealous. Aviere never cared, though. She understood his feline nature when he—”

  “Just finish the question before I torture myself by asking Mye.”

  “Gunther? Well… no easy way to answer.” Jemina pinched her bottom lip before she waggled a finger at Travis. “And no ask Aviere. That bad idea. You hear all about how I try stealing him, but she never understand. I still care about him, even if we not compatible.”

  “You’re trying to make the ride to Charm City unbearable.”

  “No, I don’t want questions later when she visits Joe.”

  “My ride back is already screwed,” Travis confessed as he rushed his statement. “She’s pissed I vomited in the Ferrari twice. Once was on the door, but someone exploded on the way here. Anyone would puke seeing someone from the inside out.”

  “And you still alive. Poor soul. Either way, drive home won’t be pleasant.”

  Travis pinched the bridge of his nose as Jemina’s lips turned color, despite the thick lipstick. “Rodriguez, level with me here. I’ve had enough awkward conversations this evening with Mye. I did not need to know about her previous relationships, or watch her ogle Q. God, that was sickening. I know he was showing off. I could’ve done better and I’ve got cooler powers than Dalara now.”

  He didn’t miss Jemina’s deafening laughter or the way her large hand slapped repeatedly against her chest. Her laughter left a sour taste in his mouth. Travis swallowed before spitting into the bushes, relieved when she stopped whooping and coughing a moment later.

  “I’m being serious!”

  “That was good,” she said, catching her breath while she wiped away tears from her eyes. “I’ll tell him you say that, see what happens. Because you entertain me, I answer question.”

  “Go on,” Travis urged as he dragged out the last word. “And hurry up. Your voice tastes like refried beans.”

  “Gunther was devoted husband. Stayed through all her medical stuff and paid for everything, which made her dependent on others.” A heel buried into the dirt. “Nonetheless, he remained paranoid and suspicious of everyone. Same as you, actually. Watching is hard because I wonder if you’ll be the same.”

  So this discussion isn’t just about her half-brother. He waved away wispy smoke from Jemina’s cigarette in the calm breeze. It’s like we’re fighting against ourselves… who w
e’re supposed to be. How cruel, sweetheart.

  “You in same dilemma as Aviere, Travis. You both want closure, but need to sacrifice something.” The Latina sighed in irritation as she flicked ashes to the ground. “You lose partners because you headstrong and fight what you are. At least learn something from Limere, even if he not train you completely. There’s always sacrifice whenever you’re ‘gifted’ with magic, sí?”

  He turned toward the summit once he heard roaring and masculine voices shouting in the background. “I know, but I’m uncomfortable with Dalara. He tries—”

  “Stop whining and cope. You not human cop. You mage. Learn to fight like one.”

  “How do you manage when someone’s stealing your powers, Rodriguez? Answer that for me.”

  When he faced her again, Travis caught the pessimistic look on Jemina’s face and the way she scrunched her forehead. “I not mage. You are. Ask someone who knows.”

  “You’ve fought them!”

  “Sí.”

  “So answer me. This should be easy for you.”

  “Entire situation uneasy for everyone, not just Aviere, you, the human, or Maurice. Not even Joe or me. Think of our daughter—no one thinks about my bambina.”

  A cold chill went through the agent as he thought of the skinner version of Jemina with her warm eyes and overprotective stance. “Yeah.”

  “She sees everything, understands everything, but can do nothing to ease suffering.” The clipped accent dropped its harshness as she went on about Celene. “I’m sure you understand, watching someone’s last moments. We discussed this once before, but got interrupted.”

  “Speaking of mini-me, she owes me an apartment door and a leather couch,” Travis grumbled. “Cute woman—probably shouldn’t have mentioned you and liposuction, though. She kicked my apartment door off its hinges and it ripped through my furniture.”

  “Celene angry. I’m surprised she still with Limere, though. Even knowing the truth, she still stands by him. Takes a lot of courage, and I respect her, even if I not agree. It for them I ask favor, not for me.”

  “I’m not playing the in-between.” The agent slanted his body between the summit and Jemina. “I do it enough between Mye and Peters.”

  “Fine, let them suffer more. Thought you were honorable, though.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked, ignoring her flippant tone. “Since when do you think that?”

  “You go through trouble of keeping Aviere alive. You visit her, despite conflicting feelings. You not afraid to be blunt or let Aviere fall. However, knowing full well Aviere and Limere avoid each other, you’d make both of them suffer without knowing the truth? That’s shitty, even for you, Travis.”

  “What happened to ‘my suffering is entertainment’, Rodriguez?”

  “Oh, it still is,” she insisted, waving the cigarette between her plump fingers. “You straight shot, even if you redheaded stepchild of Renegades. Even if people hate you, one trait carries in every conversation regarding you—faith and integrity. A lot of us lose our souls inside this organization. Somehow, no matter how dark you become, you care about them. A human being and a shifter—who knew?”

  “I lost mine years ago.”

  “Because I feel generous, I give word of advice. Encourage your human partner to carry a revolver on him. Mia and Q already try killing him.” She beamed and rubbed her hands together after putting out her cigarette. “Human got inventive with stopping them, though. Give me hope, no matter how small. Maybe you two can figure out what we couldn’t… make her grow. Should have been my place, damn it… not two stupid humans who don’t understand us.”

  I don’t understand Rodriguez, Lyssa.

  Travis focused his eyes on the steep incline, disheartened by the quietness of Kilgore Falls. Other than the faint hum of magic in the air, no animals chirped or moved. He expected something to rustle shrubbery or trees, even wind picking up around him.

  Damp earth, which once smelled of clay and acidic rain, changed to a mixture of coal and rotten eggs.

  While the rest of the Renegades want to destroy us, others flock to Mye. She has experience but lacks confidence in some areas. Why do they continue to put their hopes and dreams in the hands of one desperate woman?

  “Anyway, head back to Aviere before she wonders if I get rid of you. Need to check for unaccounted cars left behind. Karyn still missing, so Joe on his way. Our boys will search for her.”

  “And what no one finds Greene?”

  “We’ll find her,” Jemina said. “I have faith in Karyn. Joe worry more, though. Fathers overprotective of daughters, you know.”

  “She’s—”

  “Blood not important. She still family, sí, sí.”

  The silent forest and fierce energy changes contributed to Travis’s power walking as he traveled away from Jemina. He stared at the ground, watching his feet kick tiny pebbles aside with his cowboy boots without a care. Travis longed for an owl to hoot, a cricket to produce noise, or for other accompanying sounds along with the water sloshing in Deer Creek, scarcely audible against the magic spell.

  Once he started up the hill, Travis paused and held his breath when he heard Jemina puffing behind him.

  “Wait, Travis.”

  The agent spun around to face the panting Latina. “What is it now?”

  “Good luck with Aviere.” She coughed into her hand before resting a hand on her stomach. “I’m sorry I can’t tell you more… about your other questions, I mean.”

  Travis released a heavy sigh and charged past Jemina, pondering her words as he glided up the summit. He halted once pressure built behind his eyes and continued walking as he scanned the forest for any trace of life.

  Several steps in, he slipped off the trench coat and carried it underneath one arm, hurrying as the voices at the top faded in the distance.

  As he called out to the figures, Travis grinned, satisfied when an automobile door slammed and an engine turned on.

  The trademark slam. Just like a woman, Mye.

  When he stopped running, the Blackberry vibrated against his thigh. Travis clutched the cursed phone as he glanced at the caller ID before answering, clearing his throat. “The earpiece short-circuited, Peters. Mye is… well—yeah. I gathered she needed time alone.” He pressed the phone to his ear. “Listen, the connection’s funky. Let me power it down before—what? I can’t hear you—fine. I’ll try. Bye.”

  Travis rolled his eyes as he wrapped up the phone call, swearing Peters relied on technology more than emotion. He glanced toward Aviere’s Ferrari and his chest tightened when the engine revved again.

  Mye, you cannot fight Angelique or Donahue without magic or when your mages function on fumes.

  Exhausted, he trudged toward the hill again, uncertain if Aviere would answer her phone. He debated on calling her, but suspected it would route to voicemail after one or two rings.

  How can she continue when she can’t succeed, Lyssa? There’s no alternative to—

  Travis’s hand vibrated again while staring above the hill. His eyes trailed to the Blackberry, where an anonymous number appeared with a long-winded text message and a weird animated picture. As Travis clicked on the video icon, an error message occurred, emphasizing the lack of reception and wireless connectivity.

  Well, at least Mye’s sense of humor remains intact, but the novel text message… I’m not going home tonight, am I, Lyssa?

  As he unlocked the screen, Travis skimmed through the message, pressing two fingers into his temple when she mentioned another night of carry-out food and staying overnight at the compound while she worked on data samples. Unlike Peters, Aviere’s choices made Travis snort before snickering under his breath.

  I didn’t expect a vegan to choose Chinese food, but it’s different from pizza, burgers, and fries. Fine, I’ll take it.

  Instead of texting, Travis grabbed the Motorola from his trench coat and dialed Aviere’s number. After four rings, the call transferred to voicemail.

 
“Four rings. Better than one, I suppose,” he texted back.

  Silence greeted him in return.

  “Mye, come on. Quit making me stumble through this cursed forest. Feeding off necromantic energy is dangerous enough. I hate dark magic. Stupid shit shouldn’t exist in the first place. It’s no surprise the lot of them go bonkers.”

  As if acknowledging his objection, the Motorola screen flashed to life and displayed another animated video Travis couldn’t open.

  “Stop sending me picture videos when there’s no reliable internet to download it!”

  When the Motorola went off once more, Travis found an image of Aviere rolling her eyes, complete with a single finger salute.

  “You better not drive away, woman. I don’t need shrieking collars on top of my throbbing headache.”

  Another long text message answered. “Meet me, then. I’ll wait till you’re done huffing and puffing. Just don’t collapse. I’m not carrying you, ’cause you sneezed all over my beautiful fur. It takes me hours to clean human snot, even if it’s by accident.”

  Although the response settled Travis’s nerves, the agent glared at the text message, troubled by the last few lines.

  As he reflected on Aviere’s recent behavior, numerous questions pushed to the forefront, including her relationship with Q. He remembered how her eyes glowed while she rambled and stumbled over her words, hesitant to disclose her feelings. On one hand, he recognized the brilliance in her cerulean eyes but understood the pain laced inside while she exposed herself. Travis noticed when she hid her doubt by changing the pitch in her voice and moving her hands as a distraction.

  Sometimes, Mye is incapable of understanding others, but something small slips between the cracks at unexpected times.

  He recalled Aviere’s embarrassment, complete with her rosy cheeks and clasping her hands behind her back after fighting her primal nature. The simple memory brought a smile to Travis’s face, but it turned to a frown as he grabbed onto a thick tree branch to hoist himself up the steep slope.

  Perhaps there’s hope, Lyssa. If she can move forward, why can’t I? Maybe I’m going about finding your killer wrong.