The Leviticus Club

by Sydney Addae

  He stared at her for a few moments. “I can’t see the day of his death,” he said frowning.

  “Let’s try. The other night you said I might be able to help you push past the blurred lines. Let’s do that tonight,” she said, still miffed over his rejection. she stuffed her hands in the pockets of the coat to keep from punching him. How could he be so mean? Hateful? Especially after she helped him.

  “And then you’ll tell me how you control the mist?” he asked, his gaze flicked to the side and back at her.

  “Yes, that’s the deal,” she said pulling the ends of the belt tight around her waist, rather than around his throat.

  “I’m not working with you,” he snapped as if just remembering their earlier argument.

  Anger spiked and raced through her. She itched to let the mist get his ass. Remembering the case, she took a deep breath and spoke calmly to prove he had no impact on her at all. “That’s fine. I’m not working with you either. Just let me see that day, I’ll do my own investigation and control the mist.” Amped by her anger, energy thrummed through her. She glared at the annoying thick mist, wondering why it followed and attacked him. She’d discuss it with Thomas and Tip, maybe one of the others heard of something reacting that way.

  It seemed as if he debated a long time when it was just a few moments before he extended his hand. She placed her hand in his and flew backward to stop in front of what could have been wide bands of police tape without words and in orange rather than yellow colors.

  She touched the orange band and jerked back from the burn. “Ouch.” Leaning forward, she could see a street with traffic but not clearly. “Give me your hand.” Without looking at him she extended hers.

  He took it. Warmth curled in her belly. She ignored it and pressed forward. This time her hand went through, she followed and pulled him alongside. They were in the van. The fog was thick. She couldn’t make out much.

  “Do you see anything?” she asked remaining in the same spot.

  “Some,” he said moving about. “Sounds like a lot of people are around.”

  She listened hard.

  “I’m thinking of dropping that class, Professor Mark’s a moron,” someone said.

  Another voice. “Sorority party tomorrow, come please.”

  “It’s a college campus. Green was at a college campus.” She tried to open the door and couldn’t. Right now, this was as far as they could go.

  “He’s not here. Does that mean he was taken on a college campus?” Noah asked as he dropped to the floor. “His gun is under the seat. So they took it after they killed him.”

  Mia couldn’t see Noah on the floor.

  “There’s a pamphlet in the seat, I can’t make it out. See if you can.” His hands touched her feet and made their way up her body.

  She tried not to respond to the rough texture of his fingers but it was impossible. By the time he grabbed her hand and thrust the brochure into it, her mind envisioned turned-down sheets and hot nights riding this cowboy.

  “Do you see anything?” he asked.

  Jerked from her fantasy make-out session, she put the brochure next to her face and couldn’t read it. It was blank with stripes of gold and black. “Nothing,” she said to conserve her energy. “Don’t have much more time, here,” she said weakening.

  “Okay. I’ve never gotten this far before.” He took her hand and they returned to the street in front of Nathaniel Green’s house.

  Mia took several deep breaths as she sat in the middle of the road with her forehead on her knees. Good thing she ate two rolls and a piece of cake an hour ago, she thought. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have gotten the information they had.

  He placed his hand on her shoulder, sending delicious warm tingles through her body. “You okay?”

  She nodded hoping for a truce and afraid if she spoke it would spook him into moving his hand.

  “Good. His van was at a college campus. Someone had to have seen it, right?” he said speaking too fast for her to keep up.

  She nodded again.

  “He had taken a brochure, colors gold and black,” he murmured and started to pace. “Wonder if the colors mean anything? Could be the college or specific school colors, or if he was there for an organization or group, might be their colors. Or they might not mean anything at all.”

  Little by little, she regained her strength but wouldn’t discuss the case with him, he wasn’t on the team. Thomas and Tip would tear everything apart once she told them about it.

  “What’s up with the mist?” She looked at the rolling gray cloud surrounding them.

  “Don’t know. It shows up whenever I enter here. Most time I can’t do much and just wait to wake-up.”

  Did he realize the mist tortured him? Added depth to nightmares and robbed him of his rest. She didn’t think he realized it and probably wouldn’t appreciate her mentioning it either.

  She glanced up at him. He wasn’t pretty, his face had too much character for that. The light hit his hair and kept his face shadowed so that his cheekbones stood out and his lips appeared fuller. His hair brushed against his shoulders giving him a roguish appearance that displayed more of his personality than he realized. With the mist in the background, he looked primal, a throwback to an uncivilized time.

  “What?” he said. “Why’re you looking at me?” He brushed his face with the back of his hand.

  “Just wondering if you planned to offer me a hand up like any gentleman would.” Her face warmed that he caught her staring at him. When he extended his hand, she appreciated his strength as he pulled her up and close with ease.

  She stepped back and looked at the road, the mist and the house beyond.

  “Now will you tell me how you control the mist?” he asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets while watching her.

  “My energy moves it.” She shrugged. “I guess it’s stronger than the mist and it obeys me.”

  “Energy?”

  She nodded. “We all have it, some more than others.”

  Neither spoke for several seconds. “Are there a lot of others? People, who use energy?”

  “Or people like you who walk through dreams?” she snapped. She wasn’t a weirdo like his voice implied.

  He met her gaze and nodded. “Yeah, or people like me?”

  Stop being so sensitive, she thought and released another breath. “Yes, there are.” She raised her hand to stop his next question. “I can’t discuss it with you, Thomas can and will. He knows a lot more about it than I do.”

  “The guy at lunch?”

  “Yes, he knows a lot and would like to talk to you.”

  “He told you to tell me that?”

  She thought about it. “No, he didn’t actually. But he’d talk to you.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “I thought about it, and you were right, you never agreed to keep our discussion a secret,” he said.

  “Sorry, for the misunderstanding.” She accepted his olive branch. “Sure would be nice to dream-walk to the beach or watch a sunrise or sunset, something fun or pleasurable.” She paused. “I’d never really thought about that before, kinda sucks that I’ve never been able to do that.”

  He chuckled. “Never heard of anybody wanting to go to the beach in their dreams. You’re definitely one of a kind Mia.”

  She liked the way her name sounded on his tongue and smiled. “Thanks, I think. Sleeps pulling me under. Come to the hotel in the morning for debriefing, we’ll put our heads together see what we come up with.” And talk to Thomas she thought.

  Her eyes grew heavy as she left the dream and fell into a deep sleep.

  CHAPTER 12

  MIA ROLLED OVER IGNORING the ringing of the phone. With one eye open, she glanced at the clock and groaned “Go away, Thomas.” It stopped ringing and started again.

  She released a breath, grabbed her phone. “Too early.”

  “Not really. I’m meeting with Tyrone Bennett in an hour. What did you learn?”

  She pulled the
covers over her head and huffed. “The van was at some college, don’t know which, but I’m thinking one in the area. There was a pamphlet, with gold and black colors. Not sure what that means.” She paused. “Oh yeah, the pistol was under the driver’s seat.”

  “Really?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. Noah showed it to me.”

  “Why college campus and not high school?”

  She repeated the students’ conversations she overheard.

  “Sounds like a college. Thanks. I want you and Noah on that, take a picture of the van, see if you can find out something. Soon as I finish this meeting I’ll join you. Tip hasn’t reported in but I expect to hear from him soon. He’ll find something that’ll connect the dots and we can move forward.”

  “We’ll go together, Noah’s not on the team. He made that clear.”

  “Did he?”

  “Crystal,” she groused.

  “Hmm, okay, get some rest. I’ll contact you once the meeting’s done.”

  Mia punched her fist into the pillow and tried to get back to sleep. Instead of returning to her peaceful rest, the gray mist rolled toward her as if blown by a strong, turbulent wind. It twisted and danced around her in graceful swirls. If it hadn’t been cold as a late winter morning she would’ve thought it beautiful. The cold chill seeped through the covers, through her skin and rubbed against her bones.

  “Cold,” she whispered into her pillow, shivering.

  The mist moved closer, darkening to the point she couldn’t see her hand in front of her. The pain of thousands of needles ran up, down and across her skin. Her back arched as she opened her mouth in a silent scream. Sucked away as through a tunnel she heard gunfire, explosions, yells, screams, and finally moans. The acrid smell of death and weapons stung her nostrils. Body parts lay across the unforgiving ground soaked in blood.

  Her heart hitched as she recoiled from the gruesome sight. Uniformed soldiers crawled, scooted and moved slowly on the ground as more rounds exploded in the distance. Haunted eyes filled with fear and desperation stared upward as they prayed to different gods for help.

  Tears filled her eyes at the devastation, pain, and loss. She screamed in pain as she was sucked away and dropped in a hospital. The smell of blood and death co-mingled in the air creating a sinister blend. She tightened her eyelids shut unwilling to see more.

  The voices, the sobs of human suffering pulled at her until she had to see. She opened one eye and then the other. In the midst of pain and despair, the sweet smell of compassion rose and breathed relief into her senses.

  Doctors, nurses and medical personnel moved with a sense of purpose and one singular goal, to help those in need. To bring a bit of humanity back to those who had been in the war.

  Just as her heartbeat slowed, she was sucked back to her bed, surrounded by that damnable mist. “Stop,” she whispered

  The mist rolled back but didn’t leave.

  She rolled over, lifted her hand and spoke with more authority. “Stop, go away and don’t come back.”

  The mist twisted and turned and dissipated as if touched by the heat of the morning sun. Her heart raced as if she had run a mile. She lay limp with her arm slung over her eyes.

  “What the hell?” she whispered, wondering why the mist kidnapped her. What was the purpose of all that? Did it have something to do with the case? Nathaniel Green hadn’t been in the military.

  Remembering Noah’s bio she froze. The mist. Did it torture him with those memories? Still, why pull her into it? She shivered as the war scene rolled across her vision again. Her stomach rolled as she curled into a ball taking several small sips of air to calm down.

  One question stood out in her mind. “Why had the mist come to her?”

  CHAPTER 13

  THOMAS WASN’T SURE what he expected, but a calm, well-mannered and easy-going smile wasn’t his idea of a wolf-shifter. In the past, the shifters he’d met had been rogues and quite feral. None were well-dress or polished like the man greeting him with a warm smile.

  “Thomas, I’m Tyrone. Pleasure to meet you.”

  Thomas accepted the handshake and waved to the small table in his room.

  “Same here, please come, have a seat. I’ll seal the room so we can talk.”

  Tyrone nodded and took a seat.

  Thomas sealed the room and offered coffee or pastries, sausage or bacon from the tray he’d ordered in advance.

  “No, I had breakfast with my mate, I’m good. Don’t let me stop you.”

  Thomas fixed a plate and a cup of coffee. When he sat he met Tyrone’s curious gaze.

  “Human for sure,” Tyrone said with a slight smile.

  Thomas nodded and swallowed his coffee. “For sure.”

  “But more,” Tyrone said, leaning forward, interested.

  “What can I do for you, Tyrone? You wanted to meet with me,” Thomas reminded him.

  “Yes. Of course.” He pursed his lips. “Here’s the thing. My father is La Patron, Alpha of the Wolf Nation. We don’t get involved with human activities, we have more than enough on our plates. However, we do need to know when a different species or group hits the radar. Especially when they’re throwing off high levels of energy.”

  Thomas nodded. “I see. Thank you for your honesty, and candor. I can see why you’d be concerned and have questions. What do you want to know?”

  “What are you?” Tyrone waved his hand. “Human and what?”

  “The Liege experimented on hundreds of humans first, are you aware of that?”

  Tyrone stilled. His gaze narrowed. “No. But others I know may know about that. Are you saying you were tampered with by the Liege?”

  Thomas released a long sigh. “Tampered with?” he snorted. “Such a tame word that can’t scratch the surface for what they did. Most of the humans died on the operating tables. Those who survived underwent multiple surgeries until they died or went crazy. By the time I came along, they were bringing in pups so I, we, didn’t get the full impact of their experiments. But we’re fucked up just the same.” He read the horrified sympathy on Tyrone’s gaze.

  “Imagine living with a fucked up mind and no idea how to control your energy. After escaping the compound, humans hunted us like common criminals for being different. No place was safe.” He crossed his leg and took another long sip from his cup. “It’s been tough hiding the past century and a half.

  “You’ve lived over 150 years?” Tyrone asked in awe.

  Thomas nodded. “Don’t get too excited, we’re not immortal. We’re dying. Whatever they did extend our lives, there are some other benefits as well. I’ve been trying to get hold of the Liege’s files to help my friends who’re suffering.” He shook his head and looked at Tyrone. “So, that’s it. A small group of people unlucky enough to fall on the Liege’s operating table and live through several operations which changed us permanently.”

  “You work for the Federal—”

  “No. Just this job. Don’t trust those assholes further than I can see them. General Strait promised to give us files from the Liege. I’m hoping to find information to save one of our team members.” He paused and leaned forward, staring out the window. “This is an ugly case, never seen anything like it. Just had another death in Tennessee, could be a serial killer. We’ve got five days, three now to solve it before the FBI steps in.”

  Tyrone frowned but didn’t say anything for a few seconds. “What is it you do? Why haven’t we detected you before? Where’s your base? In the States?”

  “When we work together, combine our skills, we’re uniquely qualified mercenaries and work mostly international jobs. Rarely do we work in the states. Like I said, the General had the right bait and we took it.” He shrugged.

  “Before you answer the other questions, let me put your mind at ease, my father’s raid of the Liege’s compounds and satellite venues have produced tons of files and data which he’s informed me you’re free to have copies of. I promise it’ll be more complete than whatever the General cherry-pi
cks for you.”

  Excitement and gratitude raced through Thomas as he met Tyrone’s sincere gaze. “Thank you. Thank you very much, I appreciate your kind offer.”

  “Even working out of the country, we never picked up your energy,” Tyrone said.

  Thomas gave it some thought. “Most of our complex is below ground, and in the States. We’ve held it for decades. I don’t know the answer to that question.”

  Tyrone sat still for a few moments. “What’s going on with this case that makes it so strange?”

  Thomas realized he was, in fact, being interviewed by La Patron, a part of him was honored. The other, uncertain. “Someone is stoning disabled men to death. Seven so far, the last one in Tennessee, 48-hours ago. Tip’s there now, searching for clues. We got a lead here and will be checking it out.”

  Tyrone frowned. “Did you say stoning? They threw rocks —”

  “Bricks, red clay bricks. The most common building component in the states of the reported deaths. Never seen anything like it. They stake them to the ground, arms wide and...”

  “Goddess, no,” Tyrone whispered as his face paled.

  “They’re neat, tidy, organized. But we’ll get them. Maybe not within the five days, but we’ll get them.” Thomas sense of outrage and justice wouldn’t allow this crime to go unpunished. They didn’t normally handle these cases but it was theirs now.

  “The Nation is forbidden to become involved in human affairs, which certain people in Washington choose to forget when it’s convenient,” Tyrone muttered. “However, we can help you and your team.”

  Thomas hadn’t expected that. “Can you help Lizzy? She’s dying,” he asked without thinking.

  Tyrone frowned. “Lizzy?”

  “She’s like a sister to me. We were at the Liege during the same time, and she’s fading. I don’t know how to help her.” He fought to keep the pleading from his voice but would beg if it would save the life of one of his team. They were family, the only family he had.