“No. When I was in the base, they were still possessing their human hosts. I’ve never really…seen…them.”
I wanted to say she wasn’t missing much, but I hadn’t actually seen them, either. Not really. At the moment I figured that was a good thing, and I couldn’t completely contain the shudder that went though me at the memory of those scaled fingers brushing against my body. “Anyway,” I went on, banishing the nightmare to the dark where it belonged, “so what has Otto so worked up he’d actually deign to visit you again after all this time?”
For some reason she couldn’t quite meet my eyes. “Well, you, actually. Or rather, you and Martin Jones.”
Oh, for Chrissake… “Doesn’t Otto have anything better to do than interfere with other people’s love lives?”
She didn’t seem surprised by what basically amounted to an outright admission that something was going on between Martin and me. Then again, she was psychic. Or Kara had gone babbling to her. I supposed it didn’t really matter how she knew.
“I don’t think he sees it that way,” Persephone said mildly, and finally reached over to pick up her neglected mug of cider.
I followed her lead and had some of my own cider. It felt good going down, especially since my throat was a little raw after being out in all that cold air earlier. “Really?” I replied, after I’d set my mug back down again. “Exactly how does Otto see it?”
Again she glanced away from me. It was pretty obvious that she really didn’t feel like getting in the middle of this. “He says that Martin is too involved, that he is creating great personal risk for himself by letting himself get so close to you. It’s not what he was sent here for…according to Otto, anyway.”
While I certainly didn’t like the concept of putting Martin at “great personal risk”…whatever that meant…I liked even less the idea of Otto butting into our business, especially since we were running out of time and options. “Well, too bad,” I said, not bothering to curb the acid in my tone. “Martin’s only trying to help me before it’s too late. I don’t see anyone else stepping in to lend a hand. If Otto’s so concerned, maybe he should get up off his fluffy white ass and pitch in.”
“I’m afraid that’s impossible,” a new voice broke in. “And, for the record, my ass is far from fluffy.”
Persephone got up abruptly, and I found myself doing the same, even as my mouth dropped open and I stared at this new apparition.
He stood in the middle of the Persian rug, staring at me with puckered eyebrows and a cast of disapproval to his perfect mouth. Tall, like Martin, and dark-haired like Martin, but this being, who must be Otto, would never be able to pass for a regular human the way Martin did. His skin was smooth and marble-pale, more perfect than any skin I’d ever seen, and he wore pale robes that seemed to shift through a spectrum of pastel colors, as if woven of extruded opals.
Somehow I found my voice. “Otto, I presume.”
He nodded, and looked past me to Persephone. “Thank you for bringing her here.”
She gave an embarrassed lift of the shoulders, as if trying to apologize to me for putting me in the middle of this…while also acknowledging Otto’s thanks.
But then his dark stare fastened on me, and something about it made me want to simultaneously stand up straighter and suck my stomach in — and sock him in the jaw for looking at me like something he’d just found crawling across his pants leg. Not that he was wearing pants.
“Kirsten.”
I decided I really didn’t like the way he said my name. I crossed my arms and stared back at him. “Otto. I hear you have something you want to say to me.”
“So human.”
“Half, anyway.”
A flicker of annoyance passed over his perfect features. “I have the feeling it’s the dominant half.”
“Is that supposed to be an insult?”
“Children,” Persephone said, her tone mild enough, but I could tell she’d had enough of the pissing contest.
“Very well.” Otto gaze sharpened, if that was even possible. It already felt like it could cut through steel plate. “I will make some allowances, since you are obviously ignorant of the consequences of Martin’s meddling, but things as they stand between you cannot continue. He’s shown you what must be done, and that is all he will be allowed to do.”
“‘Allowed’?” I repeated. “Is he a child? Can’t he make his own decisions?”
“You don’t understand what’s at stake. We cannot interfere, not at the level he’s done. Perhaps if he stops now, and lets things run their course, then the situation will right itself.”
Godlike being or no, all I wanted in that moment was to tell him to go screw himself. I had a feeling that wouldn’t go over very well, and most likely would only result in more pronouncements on my ignorance and general human deficiency on a variety of levels. I had no idea how Persephone had managed to put up with this guy buzzing in her head for so many years.
“Sounds like you should be talking to him, not me,” I replied. “After all, he’s the one who approached me and told me what had to be done.”
“We are talking to him,” Otto told me, and something about the way he said it made me distinctly uneasy. “But he is being stubborn. You must make a break now, and use the knowledge he’s given you to take your stand against the invaders.”
“For someone who’s not supposed to be interfering in human affairs, you’re showing a sort of unhealthy interest in my love life, don’t you think?”
Persephone sucked in a breath, as if she couldn’t believe I’d just said that. At the moment, though, I was feeling fearless. Maybe it was the memory of Martin’s body against mine, or the way he had mouthed I love you. I just knew he would never walk away from me, no matter what pressure his people might put on him. Hadn’t he told me I was his lifemate?
Otto pulled himself up. He was very tall…and those robes made him look even taller. I could see why some people would confuse these kinds of aliens with angels. “As Martin is not human, and you are only half, I daresay my interference here is entirely within the boundaries of expectation.”
Well, he did have me there. I scowled. “Tell you what, Otto. If Martin walks away, I’ll drop the whole thing.” I felt confident enough in making such an offer, since I knew Martin wouldn’t leave me voluntarily.
A flicker of surprise passed over Otto’s perfect features. “You would do that?”
Now was not the time to show any hesitation. I recalled the light in Martin’s eyes as he looked at me, the way he’d reached down to help me navigate the treacherous trail at Cathedral Rock. We might have only known each other a few days, but somehow that didn’t seem to matter. We were right together. Nothing would keep us apart. Not even meddling multidimensional beings.
“I would,” I said steadily.
“I’ve heard enough,” he replied, and then he was gone, disappearing from the room in a brilliant flash of light.
I blinked, seeing dancing sparks behind my eyelids, after-effects of Otto’s Vegas-worthy exit. Then I looked over at Persephone, who stood a few paces away, brow puckered in worry.
She cleared her throat and asked, “Are you sure that was wise?”
“I trust Martin.” Her expression didn’t change, and I went on, “I know you all have the impression that I’m some silly girl who doesn’t know what she’s doing — ”
“I didn’t say that.”
“No, but you were probably thinking it.” I shoved my hands in my pockets and sent her an imploring look, practically willing her to understand. “Didn’t you feel that way about Paul, that you knew you were supposed to be together even though you’d only known each other for a few days?”
At that question her mouth softened. “Yes. Yes, I did.” She was silent for a few seconds, and I wondered if she was reaching out somehow, trying to get more of a grasp on the situation by using her own unique abilities. A small nod, and then she added, “I get it, Kirsten, I do. Your sister isn’t very happy — �
��
“Of course she isn’t. She thinks I should be seeing someone closer to my own age. Never mind that Lance is just as many years older than she is as Martin is older than me.”
“Than Martin looks,” Persephone corrected me. “We can’t apply our same standards to them. Of course he never came out and told me, but I always had the impression that Otto had to be at least hundreds of years old.”
“Then you’d think he would’ve learned better manners by now,” I snapped. Yes, I’d been wondering from the time Martin revealed his alien nature how old he really was, but having Persephone point it out to me somehow made it more real.
She almost smiled. “No, Otto was never very good at being tactful, unfortunately. I guess I’ve just gotten used to it over the years.” Her expression sobered. “And I guess part of me is just as irritated as you are. I’ll admit I have no idea what their rules are, beyond the whole ‘no direct intervention’ thing, but being so concerned about your relationship with Martin when we mere mortals are facing a very real danger seems like a massive case of misplaced priorities.”
“That’s for sure.” It did hearten me to know that Persephone was thinking some of the same things I was, and she definitely wasn’t being as judge-y about the whole situation as Kara had been. “But I seem to have pacified Otto for now, so I should probably have Martin come get me so we can get back to work.”
“And he really is hopeful?”
“Yes.” Persephone’s tone had been steady enough, but it didn’t take psychic powers to know she was frightened. Not that I blamed her. I didn’t know if I was trying to reassure her or myself as I added, “And he’s got a much better idea of what we’re up against than I do, so if he thinks we have a chance, then we probably really do.”
“Good.” She let out a little breath and hesitated, as if trying to decide whether she should say anything else. Then, in a rush, “I’ve been trying not to think about it too much, but it’s even harder now because I just found out — well, turns out I’m pregnant.”
“Wow — congratulations! I didn’t know you guys were trying.”
Her fair skin turned faintly pink along her cheekbones. “Well, we weren’t trying, trying, if you know what I mean, but…”
“You can spare me the gory details,” I said with a laugh. “But I get it. The stakes just got higher.”
“But no pressure.” She looked almost rueful.
“It’s okay.” And strangely, it was. Martin had said I was doing very well. He was hopeful. I was fighting for him and for Kara and Grace and Lance and Michael, and now Persephone’s unborn child, along with everyone else I cared about. It was going to be all right. “But I really need to get going.”
“I understand.” And one of her hands went to her stomach, even though it was perfectly flat still. She was probably less than two months along, if she’d only just found out.
But I could worry about all that later. I closed my eyes and called out to him. Martin.
Nothing. I could feel myself frown, but I took a breath and tried again. Martin, I’m ready. You can come get me now.
Only silence, and the thin, thready edges of panic on the borders of my mind. I refused to let myself give in to it, and instead opened my eyes and went to my purse where I’d left it sitting on the floor by the couch. Maybe he was too far away. He’d never really mentioned how far that strange telepathy of ours reached. So I dug out my cell phone and pulled him up in my contacts, then hit “call.”
His phone rang and rang, and finally went into voicemail. You’ve reached Special Agent Martin Jones of the Phoenix office of the FBI. Please say your name slowly…
I pushed the “end” button and looked up from my phone to see Persephone watching me with sympathy in her hazel eyes. “Must be out of range,” I said, my tone casual, although what was the point of lying to a psychic?
She reached out then, gave my hand a squeeze. She didn’t say anything, and she didn’t have to.
Apparently Otto had gotten to him.
Martin wasn’t coming.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Kara was the one who came and got me. I didn’t know what Persephone had said to her exactly, but whatever it was, my sister was fairly subdued, and didn’t start in on how I’d been stupid to get involved with Martin when I knew nothing about him, or any of that sort of thing. No, she just asked if I wanted to go home, and I nodded without speaking. Never mind that a lot of my day-to-day stuff was still up at the Forest Houses cabin. I had a spare toothbrush and some sample sizes of shampoo under the sink in my bathroom. I’d make do.
It wasn’t that far from Persephone’s place to my apartment. As Kara parked her Prius in an empty spot in front of the stairs to my unit, I was overcome by an enormous feeling of inevitability. So much for that sensation I’d had as I left with Martin several days ago, the one that told me I might not be coming back. Oh, I was back all right.
Kara followed me up the stairs, and I was too tired and heartsick to tell her not to come. I realized then that she probably should have driven me to the store so I could pick up the van, but for some reason the thought of having to drive it made me want to burst into tears. Maybe it was because I had a flash of Martin smiling at me, saying, I like being your chauffeur.
Yeah, right.
I turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open, then stopped dead.
“Holy crap,” Kara said from behind me.
It looked as if a whirlwind had blown through my apartment — if the whirlwind in question was talented enough to dump the contents of every drawer on the floor, slash open the couch, and even pull my pretty Moroccan lamp from its hook in the ceiling and smash it against the dinette table. Vaguely I registered my old iMac desktop computer torn apart on the floor, screen shattered and electronic guts strewn every which way. Thank God I’d taken my laptop with me. Of course, said laptop was still resting in my suitcase up at the cabin, since I hadn’t wanted to lug it with me when I was hiking up Cathedral Rock.
And it was the thought of my MacBook sitting up there, alone, waiting for me, that finally brought the tears. I slumped over, sobs tearing through me, and then I felt Kara’s arms go around me, heard her shut the door. Somehow she guided me back down the stairs and into her car. She pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward West Sedona, back toward her house. All the while I wept, the scene outside blurring, a surreal smear of red rocks and green trees, a kaleidoscope of cars and buildings and people, none of it making any sense.
Then we were in her garage, and she was leading me inside. I heard her say a few murmured words to Lance, and we went past him, on into her office, which was now mainly a guest room, since Grace occupied the bedroom that had once been mine.
Kara sat me down on the daybed, disappeared for a minute, then came back with a box of tissues and sat down next to me. “I suppose there’s no point in calling the police, is there?”
I shook my head and wiped my eyes with a tissue. “N-no.”
“It was them?”
“P-pretty sure.” I wadded up the damp tissue and pulled another one out of the box. Residential burglary wasn’t unknown in Sedona, especially in the big expensive vacation houses that stood empty for months out of the year. Those were easy pickings. But I could tell nothing had been taken from my apartment. Whoever had ransacked my apartment, they’d done it with the intent to destroy. To send a message.
Kara rubbed my shoulder. “At least you weren’t there. Things can be replaced. You can’t.”
Cold comfort. When had they broken in? I wondered. My first night away, angry that they could no longer attack me mentally, sheltered as I was by the soothing energies of Oak Creek? Or later, once they began to figure out what I might be up to?
I had no idea. Not that it really mattered at this point.
“I need my stuff,” I told her.
She raised an eyebrow. “It’s okay, Keeks. I can run to Walgreens and get you some things for tonight, and you can borrow some of my clothes
— ”
“No,” I said, and added, “I mean, Martin and I were staying up at Forest Houses. My laptop and some spare clothes and toiletries and things are there. He may have ditched me, but that doesn’t mean I can’t get my stuff back.”
“Sweetie, how do you know your things will even be there?”
I didn’t, of course, but something inside was driving me to go out there. Maybe in the back of my mind I was hoping that Martin would be at the cabin. There had to be a rational explanation for his defection. Maybe he was hiding out there because it was the only place he was safe from retaliation by his own people. “They’re there. If you don’t want to drive me, then take me back to the store so I can get the van — ”
“No way am I letting you drive, not when you’re in this state of mind.”
Her tone told me that there wasn’t much point in arguing, which was good, since I didn’t have the energy for it. I yanked a fresh tissue out of the box and stood. “Okay, then let’s go.”
Frowning, she rose from the bed as well and went out into the hall, where I heard her have a brief muffled convo with Lance. I shoved a couple more tissues in my pocket, just in case, then headed out of the guest room and toward the garage. Kara followed me, giving Lance a quick kiss on the cheek.
Surprisingly, he didn’t look angry or annoyed by the situation, but actually worried. I would have thought he’d be ready to break out the “I told you so”s, but I guess I hadn’t given him enough credit. But then Grace started making fussy noises from inside her bedroom, and he went in to check on her.
Just as well. I didn’t think I was really up to an in-depth conversation with Lance right then.
Kara and I got back in her Prius, and she pulled out of the garage without saying anything. In fact, we went all the way back through uptown Sedona and out into the wilderness area north along 89A without speaking. I really didn’t know what else to say, and she was doing that thing she always did when she was worried — drumming her fingers on the steering wheel as if in time to music only she could hear.
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