Beyond the Darkness

by Jaime Rush

  “I’m only staying long enough to get a game plan.”

  Her expression sagged. “Not long at all.”

  “You and Pope will hang here until I’ve taken care of Yurek and Baal, which hopefully will be sometime today. If there’s trouble, Pope should be able to teletransport and take you with him. He said he was going to work on getting that ability back. Remember, you won’t be able to bring anything but what you can fit in your pocket.”

  She pressed her iPhone to her chest. “I’m going to wear this thing.”

  The walkway led to a side entrance, but he continued around to the front door. “Pope’s nearby,” he said. “I can feel him.”

  Pope walked around the far corner of the porch that ran along the front of the house. Cheveyo started for his knife, a habit engrained in every cell of his body. Releasing the breath, and tension, he relaxed his fingers.

  Pope noticed the movement and cracked a smile. “I come in peace.”

  She nudged him. “Pope made a joke.”

  “Humans are rubbing off on you,” Cheveyo said, unable to help the wry grin on his face.

  A board squeaked when Pope stepped on it. He stepped on it again, as though to verify where the sound had come from.

  Cheveyo said, “It’s an alarm. I was on a mission in Kyoto, Japan, and did some sightseeing after I was finished. At the Nijo Castle, I learned they’d installed these squeaky boards to alert the shoguns of intruders. I liked the idea.”

  Pope stepped on it one more time, nodding in approval. “Yes, primitive and yet timeless.”

  Cheveyo nodded toward the wrinkled map Pope was holding. “Been out exploring?”

  “Studying the land in case I should have to flee on foot.” He pressed the squeaky board one more time. “Like you, preparing for invasion.”

  They walked the final few feet to the front door. It was locked, just as Cheveyo had instructed Suza to do while she was there alone. He opened it and gestured for Petra and Pope to walk into the massive room. They stopped within a foot of the door. Maybe taking in the dark oak beams and the floor-to-ceiling rock fireplace. He stepped up beside them and saw that no one was looking at the fireplace. All eyes were on the woman posed on the back of the brown couch, wearing leopard-print panties and bra, black high heels, and nothing else. Her long black hair was artfully draped over her shoulder.

  Her eyes popped when she saw the three of them. “Oh, hell in a coffee cup!” She fell backward, long legs flying, and landed on the other side of the couch. Her hand reached out and grabbed the discarded clothing on the floor.

  Petra looked at Cheveyo, and he couldn’t miss the edge in her voice. “I think you should have warned her you had company.”

  Suza rose from behind the couch fully dressed, embarrassment in deep blue eyes fringed with dark lashes and framed by bangs. “I am so sorry. Obviously I had no idea you had company or”—her gaze shifted briefly to Petra—“a girl. It’s not what you think. Well, it is and it’s not. It started that day a couple of months ago when you came back while I was still cleaning.” She turned her attention back to Petra. “He looked ragged and worn, but it was what I felt from him . . .” She shook her head. “I know this’ll sound a bit whoo-whoo, but I can feel people’s emotions, and I felt this bone-deep loneliness and sadness. It about broke my heart.”

  She leaned back against the couch, her words still pouring out. Interesting that she was looking at Pope and Petra and not him. “When he interviewed me for the cleaning job, I felt something different than anything I’ve felt from a guy.” She splayed her hand over the left side of her chest. “I could feel that he had a good soul. But that day his soul was hurting, and the need to take away the pain was overwhelming. He declined, told me he had a dangerous job and didn’t want to jeopardize anyone. I couldn’t get it out of my mind, though, so every time I came here, I put on my underpretties just in case.”

  Her gaze slid to Pope but came back to Petra. She blew out a breath hard enough to ruffle her thick bangs. “If you’re his girl—and from what I’m picking up, you are—don’t get your skivvies in a twist. He’s innocent.”

  Well, innocent was not something he’d been called in a while.

  “I’m going to stop babbling now and finish up.” She finally looked at him. “Unless you’re firing me.” She waited for a second.

  “I’m not going to fire you.”

  “You don’t know what that means to me. I need these cleaning jobs till my shop gets established.”

  When he interviewed her a year ago, he’d felt her wild, frenetic energy. He also felt her attraction to him. She was a beautiful woman, but her need for love and loyalty ruled her out as someone he could get casually intimate with.

  Suza asked, “Do you want me to freshen up the guest room? I haven’t gotten to that part of the house yet.”

  Which was why she didn’t know someone had been staying at the house. “We’re fine,” Cheveyo said. “Why don’t you call it a day?”

  Her smile wavered, but she revived it for Petra and Pope. “Have . . . a nice visit.”

  She grabbed the long handle on her container of cleaning equipment and wheeled it to the door, her gaze still on Pope. Maybe because he was unusual looking. Then again, with that tiny smile, maybe it was more.

  She paused in front of Pope and held a hand a few inches from his chest. “All of you have a buzzing energy I’ve never felt before, but you have it even more.” She looked him right in the eyes. “You’ve got a good soul, too. And . . .”

  Pope tilted his head, an expression of curiosity on his face. “And?”

  Her eyebrows furrowed. “I’d better go.”

  With that, she walked out, closing the door behind her. Pope raised an eyebrow, and once the door closed, said, “Interesting. Me, a good soul? But she was right about our energy.”

  Cheveyo said, “I wonder what she picked up.”

  Petra was watching her through the front window. “She’s not an Offspring, is she?”

  Pope was watching her, too. “No, I didn’t sense the Essence in her. But humans have innate psychic abilities, some more than others. She definitely has them.”

  Suza was halfway down the drive when Cheveyo realized he’d better have her wait a few weeks before coming back. He ducked out the door.

  “Suza.”

  She was already at her truck, and she swiveled to face him, her expression tensing. “Shoot, you are going to fire me, aren’t you? Not that I blame you. I probably got you into a sandstorm of trouble with your girlfriend.”

  “She’s not my girlfriend.”

  “Yeah, right. Wait, you’re serious.” She pointed at her upper chest. “You’re talking to a third gen empath. If she’s not now, she will be. What I sense between you two is deeper than anything I’ve ever picked up before.” Melancholy tempered her smile. “I’m happy for you. Gives me hope.”

  He wasn’t going to correct her. “What did you sense from Pope?”

  Her gaze flicked to the house, and a spark flared in her eyes. “I felt a deep yearning, but I didn’t want to say that to him. Seemed a bit too personal and, well, we already got pretty damned personal already.” She flashed a chagrined smile. “He’s got the most gorgeous eyes I’ve ever seen, even if they are a bit freaky. There’s something different about him.”

  Cheveyo nodded. “That there is.”

  She waited for him to elaborate. When he didn’t, she said, “It’s a good kind of different.” She hefted the square plastic container of supplies into the bed of the truck and gave him a contrite look. “So, am I fired?”

  “No. But I may have some trouble here in the next few days. I don’t want you to get hurt. Call me before you come.”

  Her expression got serious. “It has something to do with the woman in there, doesn’t it? I can sense your fear for her. Is everything all right?”

  “We’ll be fine. I’ll be in touch.”

  She surprised him by giving him a hug. “Be careful.” Just as quickly, she ba
cked up and got into her truck.

  He returned to the house. Petra had been looking out the front window but quickly turned as though to pretend she hadn’t been. Suza’s emotions were simple. In the house, things were more complicated.

  Pope’s head was tilted like a puppy who had heard an odd sound. “I’ve never sensed these emotions before. They’re quite interesting. What are they?”

  Petra’s cheeks were pink. “What emotions? There are no emotions here. We had an awkward little situation, but it’s over,” she added in a high-pitched voice.

  Cheveyo leaned against the back of the overstuffed sofa, studying Pope. “You sense our emotions. How?”

  “They come in pulses, like sound waves. I’ve sensed hatred and love and fear, but this woman caused emotions in both of you that I’ve never picked up before.”

  So Pope could pick up his emotions, even though he masked them. Interesting. “What do these emotions feel like?”

  “Do we really have to go there?” Petra said, rolling her eyes. “Really?”

  He hid his grin. These awkward situations were nothing in the scheme of things to him. He had to remember that Petra was a different person, with different perceptions and insecurities. “I’ve never met a Callorian that I didn’t have to kill, so I’m curious, too.”

  She let out an endearing sigh and dropped down onto the deep red chair catty-corner to the couch, her arms crossed in front of her.

  Pope narrowed his eyes in thought, violet blue eyes that some Callorians had when they didn’t camouflage them with human colors. He hadn’t taken on an ordinary visage for some reason.

  Pope said, “From Petra I get a surge of pain and frustration. I felt this from her the first time I mentioned your name. But with the woman here, it was even sharper, like a laser beam. I had the sense that Petra wanted to leave this space but held her ground.”

  Cheveyo was watching her while Pope spoke, her face growing redder until she dropped it into her hands.

  “It was a very curious emotion that surged in on top of those two,” Pope observed. “One that was even more powerful.”

  She looked up at them. “It was jealousy, all right?” She got to her feet, her hands fisted, keeping her gaze on Pope but jabbing her finger in Cheveyo’s direction. “He told me we can’t be together, and fine, we can’t, but then there’s obviously something between him and that woman, because he ran right out there to talk to her alone, which contradicts what he’s told me.”

  Cheveyo couldn’t help it. He liked her jealousy, even though he shouldn’t, and didn’t deserve the feelings it represented. Hadn’t he felt the bite of it when he saw her with the guy at the restaurant?

  Pope once again tilted his head, looking at Petra. “But you said you weren’t gooey and dewy over him anymore.”

  She slapped her hand over her eyes. “Can I just disappear right now?”

  “Gooey and dewy?”

  “Can we not have this conversation?” she said, sliding her hands down her face.

  Cheveyo grinned. “No, let’s have it. What’s gooey and dewy?”

  Pope obliged, since Petra wasn’t saying a word. “I believe it had something to do with how she felt after she was with you, a description given to her by her brother.”

  “I made you gooey and dewy?” Cheveyo asked. “And that’s a bad thing?”

  “It’s a good thing that’s a bad thing when it was about you.”

  Cheveyo could only nod, though he didn’t get it at all. “Do you feel gooey and dewy about the other guy?”

  “No.”

  Cheveyo leaned closer to her. “Can I see it? I confess that’s an expression I’ve not heard of.”

  “No, but I’ll be happy to show you annoyed.” She made a face that only made him want to laugh more.

  Pope was studying Petra’s embarrassment. “Humans seem to be sensitive about some feelings, and yet others they lay right out there.”

  “Some feelings are private, Pope,” she said.

  “And so you hide them,” he continued, pressing his finger to his cheek. “Or, as I’ve also seen, lie about them. Fascinating. In our dimension, the humans were overcome by them, sickened by them. They were their downfall. Here, humans both suppress them and get swamped by them. This doesn’t seem healthy either.” He looked at Cheveyo on those last words.

  “Sometimes you have to suppress them to stay safe.” He glanced at Petra. “Or to keep others safe.”

  Pope nodded toward her. “Her frustration was because you hadn’t told her why you couldn’t be together. But that apparently was in the past. She was pleased that she didn’t feel the need to punch pillows over you anymore.”

  Ah, hell. He’d caused her a lot of frustration.

  “He’s explained that,” she said, giving him a dismissive wave of her hand. “We’re good.”

  “Now you will have to explain the woman,” Pope went on, not picking up the tone of her voice, which said end of conversation. “She has a great curiosity mixed in with—” He took in her narrowed eyes. “—private feelings.”

  Cheveyo had to keep himself from laughing.

  She turned, holding onto the arm of the chair, her gaze on Pope. “You laid out my feelings. What’s he feeling?”

  Uh oh. Now it wasn’t so funny.

  Pope studied him. “A deep sadness. Loneliness, like what the woman described. Something I can’t identify. And great affection when he looks at you.”

  Damn. How had Pope picked up what he buried so deep inside? He held out a hand to Petra. “Let’s go for a walk.”

  She hesitated a moment but then stood and took his hand.

  Pope walked toward the front door with them, and Cheveyo added, “Alone.”

  “Oh, these are the private feelings you’re going to discuss. We were schooled on human feelings, but I have had little direct experience with them. I only interact with humans as much as I need to blend in.” He turned and walked back to the living room. “Clearly I need to study them more,” he said to himself.

  Cheveyo thought about the yearning Suza had picked up. Did Pope want to feel this mess of emotions deep down inside where all those repressed feelings hid?

  He led Petra out onto the porch and down the stairs. There were no manicured lawns here, only brittle grass and pines scattered for miles. He led her over to his attempt at a garden, where dried up tomato plants testified to his neglect. Or, more precisely, to his illusion that he might have enough peace to grow a few tomatoes.

  If he were a stronger man, he’d let her think he’d been banging the cleaning lady. He couldn’t, because he knew it would hurt her. He’d done that enough.

  She crossed her arms over her chest, staring at his plants. “You don’t owe me an explanation.”

  “There’s nothing to explain. I was just getting you out of there.”

  She looked up. “Oh. Well . . . thanks.” She frowned. “How come you weren’t embarrassed or thrown off?”

  He smiled. “It takes a lot more than a half-naked woman on my couch to throw me off.” Or to turn him on. “And she was telling the truth. There’s nothing between us.”

  “I’m surprised. She’s a hot chick, as my brother would call her. And she’s obviously interested in you. You made a point to talk to her alone. And she hugged you.”

  “I needed to tell her to call me before she came to clean again. I don’t want her coming out here and finding Yurek and Baal. The hug.” He shrugged. “Nothing.”

  She nodded. “Why were you ragged and sad that day?”

  He’d been feeling raw. He had killed a vicious Callorian the day before, and then gone to glimpse a bit of sunshine—Petra. So close, that if he’d shouted her name, she would have turned and walked over. “It was just a mood.”

  “I know that place, too.”

  He didn’t need to hear that. He brushed a strand of her hair from her face. “When this is over, I want you to go find that guy. Greg.” He had to push out the name. “I want you to have that normal life you
want. Forget about me, this, everything. Promise me.”

  He didn’t want that at all. She didn’t either, by the hurt in her eyes. “I promise,” she said, a bit too forcefully.

  He stared at their linked hands, remembering Suza’s words. She was right. Which was why he had to separate from Petra today. He slid his hand free of hers, slowly, feeling his reluctance.

  She said, “The pillow thing . . .”

  “You don’t have to explain yourself.”

  “Yes, I do. I want to put it into context.” She took a quick breath. “Do you know how hard it was being around people who were falling in love? Seeing the looks that burned, feeling the tension, watching them go to their room knowing they were going to have hot, sweaty sex. Of all the Rogues, I was the only one who actually wanted to fall in love with someone, but I’m the only one who didn’t. Then there was you, us, and yet, no us. Not knowing was the worst part, but I understand now.” She gave him a forced smile. “What I said to Pope was true; we’re good.”

  Which wasn’t true, but he wasn’t about to refute it. “We’d better go in and make our plan. Time is running out.”

  They returned to the house in silence. They followed the sounds Pope was making in the kitchen. He was putting slices of smoked meat on pieces of frozen bread.

  “I’ve developed a liking for the food here,” he said, setting one completed sandwich on a plate. “Though I confess I’ve never actually made a meal.”

  Cheveyo stepped up to the stone counter. “Might help to defrost the bread first.” He put several slices into the toaster oven. “I’m going to head back out tonight, backtrack and try to find Yurek and Baal. I don’t want them coming here, but you have to be prepared if they do. Baal is tracking me, and even if I’m not physically here, my scent is.”

  Pope pulled out a gallon of orange juice and tried to pour it into three glasses he’d set out. He unscrewed the cap and tilted the carton. Nothing came out. “Two against one isn’t good odds.”

  “This is frozen, too. Nothing keeps for as long as I’m gone, so I freeze everything.” He put that in the microwave on defrost. “I’ve taken on three before. It’s easier to do it alone.”