Drift: The Renegades Saga: Book Two

by E. M. Whittaker

  ~It’s another like us,~ his companion advised. ~Be vigilant, boy. She’s—~

  “Sometimes, I prefer a drug addiction over your weird behavior, but I’m glad I learned why you hid your actions,” Maurice said. “I can’t criticize you, though. Maybe I would’ve done the same thin’.”

  “Maurice, hurry and follow them.”

  Limere covered his mouth at his throaty, demonic speech and the sinister chuckling from the doorway. Color bled into the monochrome and he registered a mousy brown-haired woman with a long French braid over her shoulder. A cacophony of growling came from his right side while Celene’s body leaped off his, agitated by the laughter.

  “Who’s the Victorian broad, Lim?”

  The mage’s lips twisted into a sadistic grin. “Joe’s current problem-child.”

  “She should follow—”

  “Maurice, leave.” Limere’s words bordered on a whine as he squinted. “I’m on borrowed time and settling my affairs is complicated enough. I’ll be damned if anyone’s swindling me out of my last request.”

  “I swear, Limere… if you’re contractin’ someone to haunt us, I’ll turn into a priest to exorcise you.”

  Even the demoness chuckled at Maurice’s empty threat, which lightened Limere’s anxiety. “No, Reese.”

  “For what it’s worth man, I’m glad the drugs ain’t killin’ you. Makes me appreciate the sacrifices you carried out rather than resentin’ your actions. Think Aviere feels the same, but you remember she’s horrible about people’s emotions and everythin’.”

  “Leave, already!” Limere shouted. “I don’t need—”

  “Shifters are snappier than humans. Such delusions anchor your hatred of our kind.”

  Limere leaped from the sofa and placed himself between Maurice and the visitor, scowling at the brunette while she batted her eyelashes. When he rested his eyes on the tiny woman leaning against the door, her laughter echoed inside his mind.

  “How adorable. You’re not using a dampening device, so your companions are privy to our conversation. To be honest, I don’t understand your fascination with keeping pets like them.”

  “Don’t lump me with mages, Soulstealer. You ramble like the demoness when you belittle my kind.”

  “My apologies. However, I have a proposition, Dalara.”

  The apology stunned the pusher as he leaned backward. “You—you apologized. Wow.”

  “I preferred a private discussion, but it appears your shifters—”

  “They’re not mine, and I’m still a shifter, despite my blocked senses and abilities,” the pusher proclaimed. “Now, explain why I should believe a representative of the Society when your kind screwed me in the first place. Fitting that their subordinate appears to collect on an S-rank bounty. You’d make bank turning in my worthless hide while upgrading your wardrobe.”

  “I must confess, the thought did pass through my mind,” the visitor replied. “However, we share a mutual enemy and harbor an advantageous ally.”

  “You’re another sicko after my stepsister, aren’t you?”

  “Ugh, with her fashion sense?” Maurice objected. “She’s on par with baby girl there.”

  “On the contrary. The agent is why I returned, not her… nor you.”

  From beside him, Limere sensed Celene’s aura simmer while her scent deepened with her perfume. “You never mentioned the desperado in our conversation, Eileen. You promised training Limmy in arcane magic, not manipulative tactics. Papa doesn’t tolerate secrets and I won’t, either.”

  “My apologies, Lady Cel.”

  Great, Cel. I’m fixing my mistakes and you complicate matters by involving another mage with a superiority complex. I don’t know if your ‘friend’ is coming or going with how her personality teeters.

  The betrayal sent a fresh onslaught of piercing laughter through Limere’s consciousness from the demoness. ~The bitch found Soulstealer, boy. We could attack her… if you so desired.~

  “You better have a good explanation for acting behind my back, Cel. I’ve sold my soul enough and prefer to keep my remaining sanity. Instead, Soulstealer—the second-highest acclimated bounty hunter in the Red Coat Society—is standing in my living room and addressing you with a title from the Middle Ages.”

  “Aviere. She was searching for the desperado.”

  He blew smoke into her stern expression and morose eyes. “You created more problems.”

  “Eileen offered to complete your regeneration rune. When we met, she knew about our situation.”

  “I don’t like it,” Limere told her. “She’s from the Society.”

  “I’m with Lim on this. No offense, but we’re full of stinkin’ mages.”

  “Maurice, no one fights for mi tesero, so I must.”

  “There’s nothin’—”

  “Unlike you or anyone else, I’ll fight,” Celene snipped. “It’s selfish, and I realize this, but I’ve had the same vision for months. If I can change Limmy’s destiny and enable him to return—more powerful than when his body deteriorates—I’ll suffer Aviere’s wrath for three or four years over a lifetime of separation. It’s better than being taken by Angelique’s demoness.”

  Limere wiped dripping blood from his eyes and moaned when the color faded from his world. Warm fingers stroked his cheek, but it was bittersweet without his eyesight. Seconds later, a stinging sensation traveled through his arm until euphoria made his eyes roll back.

  The high overrode the cries of his counterpart begging him to reconsider.

  Limere parted his lips, prepared to answer the demoness’s plea when warm lips crushed against his. Thirty seconds later, he felt Celene’s head lean on his shoulder.

  “The man I love understands right from wrong. I outplayed everyone for a chance to change your future. When Reggie died, Karyn fell into despair. I won’t become like her or Aviere.”

  “Naughty little bruja,” he praised while tracing a finger over her lips.

  After several playful nibbles, Limere removed the throbbing digit.

  “What was that for?”

  “Wrong word. Witches cast magic. Seer is vidente, tesero.”

  The flirtatious wink warmed the mage’s heart as he cracked a small smile.

  “Believe me, I thought hard about this, Limmy. Reincarnation is better than continuing as a thrall. It’s on par with Aviere. If she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move… stayed tied to life support… you’d honor her wishes.”

  “Celene… no disrespect intended, darlin’, but what if Soulstealer tricks you and Lim don’t come back?”

  Limere snorted as the atmosphere darkened, illuminated with silver and white. Even without clear auras or vision, he caught the vindictive tone in Celene’s voice. “I don’t have Aviere’s odds when I gamble. But this bambina realizes that if she deceives me, there’s nowhere safe for her to run.”

  His fingers stretched across the worn paper surrounding his joint as he fished out his lighter. One ice-blue eye regarded Maurice, whose finger flashed silver as he signed with his hand. After Limere deciphered it and lit his second love, he inhaled the skunky fumes, content when Soulstealer coughed from the doorway.

  “Fine. I’ll agree on one condition.” He thumbed to Maurice before wrapping a strong arm around Celene’s shoulder. “These two and my little sister stay out of your magical feud. Whatever vendetta you have against Keith Travis stays between you two.”

  “While I cannot guarantee such conditions, perhaps I can honor your last request instead.”

  The mage nodded, took another drag, and then stared at Maurice, gutted by the animosity behind his gray eyes. He thrust the silver case in Maurice’s direction before holding the joint away from his face.

  “Once I’m gone, give these to Aviere. She’ll want them for pain.”

  Deafening silence arose and mimicked the void inside Limere’s spirit as wispy darkness tampered with his normal silver aura.

  Celene’s acrylic nails drove into his palm before stealing the joint.
Before he protested, a cold finger pressed against his lips.

  “A thousand Hail Mary’s are worth tonight’s reward,” the Latina whispered against his earlobe. “It means more than three meaningless words, mi amor.”

  Limere shivered and murmured them anyway, relieved only Celene heard his acknowledgment in her native tongue.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Aviere stared at her somber reflection through the glass pharmaceutical building and pushed her gloved hand against it before forcing her quivering lips together, thinking of happier memories before destruction and misfortune plagued her life.

  Her chest ached from holding in sharp breaths and her eyes stung from working on four hours of sleep the previous evening. Despite understanding what the confrontation meant, her body temperature plummeted as her face turned pallid.

  One flashback surfaced as she scrambled for the peridot, comforted when her leather gloves squeaked on the stone between her fingers.

  I shouldn’t flashback to a high school memory before our finale, Lim. What are you thinking right now? Are there any regrets before everything ends? I won’t be able—

  “They’re en route, Mye.”

  The image wavered as her partner’s voice broke through her flashback. “Okay.”

  “I suspect somebody took Dalara’s phone because one-line texts turned into text blocks with misspelled words and Christian references. ‘St. Mary help his soul’ doesn’t comfort me.”

  “Celene.” Aviere’s remark transformed to a husky whisper as her fingers traced her lips. “God, I forgot about her. It’s appalling, but I can’t imagine how she feels right now. After battling so hard for Lim—”

  “She never ran away. Somewhere, she clung to hope, unlike you.”

  The words knifed through the Poisoner and she stopped mid-sentence. Aviere stared at the disheveled woman reflecting through the mirror, dabbing at her jawline.

  “I… I don’t know what to say, Travis. Every time I try, we argue over past transgressions. We’ve allowed ourselves to resent each other, deceive one another, and condone ourselves for old mistakes. In retrospect, I’m a lousy little sister for letting contempt cloud my judgment.”

  “No, it makes you human.”

  “Nothing I say will alleviate our guilt, despite what we do for each other. Peters tried helping, but failed miserably when he decrypted my dossier.”

  Snorting sounded in Aviere’s left ear. “I swore I heard praise, but I can’t be sure. Fitting, since I’m coordinating a sting operation inside an obsolete 1998 Ford Focus. Do you understand how difficult using a laptop without a charger or decent internet is, or trying to multitask while filtering out interesting conversation?”

  “No one gives a shit about your opinion,” Aviere snapped while clenching her fist. “As far as I’m concerned, you can choke on fish bones before tonight is over.”

  “Damn, I’m sorry, Mye.”

  She tipped her head back while glaring at the dark, smoggy sky, waving a hand in front of her flushed face at Peters’s sympathetic tone.

  “You and I are alike intellectually, Peters. I hate admitting it, but I want to like you. Sometimes, you let your two-faced nature drop long enough to see the diamond buried underneath the bullshit. However, after overhearing Q’s admission, I dreamed of strangling you with barbed wire.”

  “I should be disturbed about your death threat, not about your weird relationship with tall, dark, and brooding.”

  “I said my relationships weren’t up for debate last time.”

  “It’s fitting, though. You need a distraction once Dalara kicks the bucket.”

  She covered up her mouth before her rival made a contemplative murmur of appreciation over the earpiece.

  “I’m muting myself until we’re ready, Travis. Make sure Miss Hellcat returns in one piece.”

  Lim, I’d prefer you over the neurotic rabid weasel. At least when you disrespected me, I deserved it.

  Reminiscing over Limere’s odd quirks spiked Aviere’s apprehension. She checked her utility belt for the seventh time and mentally recounted each item. As she rolled her shoulders, her arms glided to her waist, pausing once she was conscious of her knobby knees.

  Stop counting, Vi. You have everything you need to obtain samples. Your ammo is with you. Stop doubting yourself, swallow your pride, and end this goddamn fiasco.

  “You’re wavering again. We discussed your attitude on the drive, Aviere.”

  She raked her leather-bound fingers through her knotty hair as she pressed a clenched fist against her chest. “This isn’t whining.”

  “Most of the time, your defiance is endearing. Nonetheless, denying the truth won’t change the outcome.”

  “I assumed I’d die before Lim. All my life, I figured I’d die before my friends because of my illness. It got me through hard times and shaped my perceptions about life. Now, I’m not sure what to believe.”

  “Aviere, you’ve known Dalara longer than me. I’m expendable, once you remove the bracelet.”

  “Once, you were,” she agreed. “Now, I’m not sure.”

  “Don’t trust me.”

  She turned an eye toward the trench-coated agent at his wary tone. “What’s wrong with maintaining a friendship through similar circumstances? I could use a companion since no one else believes in me.”

  “It’s a business relationship, nothing more.”

  Aviere scratched her arm until her flesh turned rosy, gnawing at her cheek with her sudden epiphany. “Goddammit it, I treated him like everyone else sees me.”

  She straightened her glasses while Travis snickered at her comment.

  “Stop laughing, Travis.”

  “It was obvious the entire time.”

  “Yeah, but Lim’s actions made sense for once. He wasn’t committed on a drug-induced high. I should’ve listened to Celene.” Aviere dropped her head until she stared at her scuffed combat boots and kicked the tiled pathway. “She always believed in Lim and tried making people come around, but it fell on deaf ears. I can’t imagine how she’s handled business when no one paid attention to her.”

  “Same as cops, civil servants, or military,” Travis said. “Every day, their spouses pray, hoping their loved ones won’t die.”

  “So philosophical,” she drawled. “Where’s the cleaner urging me to strike Donahue?”

  “Remembering horrible visits with his couples’ counselor.”

  Aviere leaned back in disbelief while lowering her spectacles. “You?”

  “I’m serious!”

  “Did you force a gun to their head after every disagreement, or break into their office when they were ten minutes late? Hell, with your luck, you stole their lunch because you didn’t get carryout a half hour before your appointment.”

  “No, but they bored me with redundant explanations every time Lyssa complained to the department when they suspended me. After the fifth write-up, Captain Fraser forced me to attend therapy with her. He claimed she didn’t transition well, so it was part of my psychological evaluation. It didn’t prevent my promotion, but worked against me during Lyssa’s trial.”

  “Your captain sounds unbearable,” Aviere told him. “I’d strangle that prick.”

  “Switching organizations was a blessing in disguise. Will it be the same for Dalara’s remaining associates? According to your rules, his people transfer to you on a technicality.”

  A pleasant expression passed through Aviere’s eyes as she regarded Travis’s question. “You’re learning.”

  “Dalara claimed my hearing got better with my newfound power. Now, answer the question.”

  “Chelsea, Desmond and their remaining crew won’t last with Donahue. If they are alive, we’re getting rid of them tonight. They’ll turn into monstrosities if the Society’s involved.”

  “What about Greene?”

  She gritted her teeth picturing the sassy blonde-haired woman with her bright pink bubble gum and low cut tank top.

  “Karyn’s a pain in the ass
, and I want to drop-kick the bitch back to the werewolves. Joe handles her better, but I see why certain parties guided her toward me. Her circumstances align with ours, and I suppose she’s formidable, once someone keeps her in check. I’ll remain skeptical until she stops friend-zoning Maurice, though. Maybe Celene will round her bitchiness out, but that’s praying for a miracle.”

  “Greene isn’t your priority, is it?”

  Heat flushed her face while Aviere swallowed an uncomfortable lump in her throat. “No. A mated pair, even a human with a shifter, suffers once their bond is severed. It destroys them.”

  “Not to seem ignorant, but can’t they sever their bond before death?”

  Aviere hit a pressure point in her neck and mouthed a phrase to herself before she shouted at her partner.

  At least he admitted his ignorance. Perhaps Travis will learn where Neuro remains closed-minded.

  “I can’t ask around your other—”

  “You can’t once you have a bond with your spouse or lifemate,” Aviere answered in one anxious breath. “Dying from a broken heart is a realistic scenario unless they stave off their sorrow. Your director is the perfect example of working himself to death. Celene’s strong-willed enough to follow suit, but there’s another concern.”

  “Hard to believe she’d lose her spunky attitude.”

  Aviere smiled as she faced Travis, blinking to avoid teary eyes. “No, she won’t. Celene’s personality is similar to Jemina. Limere rounded out her alpha-like hostility, so she’ll become territorial after he passes away.”

  “Become? Aviere, the woman is intimidating, yet dotes on Dalara.”

  “It’s reasonable enough. Celene pined for him since she was eleven years old.”

  She sneered at another set of nervous chuckling.

  “Please tell me you’re joking.”

  “I wish. She became adept at slipping through windows when we barred her from visiting without adult supervision. Every woman who flirted with him got their ass handed to them. Chelsea won’t approach Lim if Celene’s with him since she tossed Chelsea out a two-story window.”