Orange Blossom Special (The Covenant of the Rainbow Book 2)

by Elana Brooks

  She rose and faced him. “Steve… thank you.”

  He blinked. “For what?”

  “For caring about me so much you’re willing to give up your position rather than risk my life. For taking the pressure off me to do something I knew was going to end badly. For… for loving me.” She rose on tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek.

  She couldn’t be much more clear that she didn’t return the feeling without renting a billboard and spelling it out in letters a yard high. “You’re welcome,” Steve said, his throat tight.

  She settled back with a sigh. “We’re still going to have to do what we can to scan for visions of Angel and the Seraphim. Say, once every hour we stop whatever we’re doing, get in telepathic contact, and I’ll meditate for a few minutes to see if anything shows up?”

  “It will have to do for now. We can step up the pace if necessary.”

  She glanced at her watch. “It’s nearly four. Let’s check now, and then again at the top of each hour. We’ll have to break for the night, though. Neither of us will be much good if we don’t sleep.”

  Steve nodded, took her hands, and opened his mind to her. She settled her thoughts against his, as snug and cozy as warm bodies cuddled together. She breathed deeply. He matched his breath to hers, making his own mind still and receptive, though he knew nothing would come into it.

  After several minutes, she shook her head. “No visions. Either they’re not planning anything right now, or they’re being clever enough to conceal it from us.”

  “Contact me when you’re ready for our next scan.”

  “I will.” She let go of his hands, but hesitated. “I wish things could have been different.”

  “Me, too.” His heart ached for everything they’d never have. “Goodbye.”

  Rosalia brushed a hand across the side of his face. “Goodbye.” She turned and walked out of the office. Steve stood and watched her go.

  The door closed behind her. For a long moment Steve didn’t move. Then he walked around his desk, settled into his leather swivel chair, and woke his computer. He pulled up a list of the most promising recruits found at sessions around the world since the announcement and started reading their initial evaluations.

  Chapter 15

  Two years ago

  The phone on the table in front of Steve buzzed noisily against the smooth wood. Adrian broke off in the middle of a sentence and stared at it. The rest of the planning committee members looked at it, then at Steve. He scooped it up, his face hot, and checked the screen. It was the call he’d been waiting for. “I need to get this. Take a ten minute break, everyone.”

  His astral fingers fumbled to cut off the vibrations as he stepped out of the conference room. There was no use answering, because his astral form couldn’t speak in a way the microphone could pick up. A few advanced practitioners of telekinesis had mastered the art of making the air vibrate at the precise frequencies needed to mimic speech, but his control was nowhere near that fine. It had taken him months of training to develop the deftness necessary to push the phone’s tiny buttons with his mind. Now it felt exactly as if his fingers were doing it, even though the actual force was applied telekinetically.

  He reached out with his mind. Rosalia? I’m out of my body right now so I couldn’t answer my phone, but we can speak telepathically.

  I’m not interrupting anything, am I? Her thoughts met his clearly despite the distance.

  Nothing that can’t wait a minute. The meeting of the Long Range Planning Committee had been going on all morning. They could use a break. You’ve got your first session scheduled?

  For right after lunch.

  Good. The rooms where recruiters met with candidates were on the second floor. He’d have to force himself to stay away until her session was through. Luckily, the issues that had been raised at the meeting would provide plenty of work to keep him busy. I’m going to be in the building all day. When you’re finished, contact me or just come up to my office and we can decide where to go for supper. I’ve got a few restaurants in mind I think you’ll like.

  She hesitated a moment before replying. Actually, I was thinking you could come over to my place tonight. I can stop by the grocery store and pick up a couple of steaks.

  Steve’s astral fingers tightened around the silent phone. What she proposed sounded wonderful, but he’d wanted to spend a nice long time talking before doing anything else. He doubted that would happen in the privacy of her home. Are you sure that’s what you want?

  Yeah.

  He made his mental voice cheerful and confident. All right. It’s a plan. Anything else? I’ve got a few minutes before I have to get back to my meeting.

  You’re working on Saturday?

  It was the only time we could all get together. Besides, my body’s getting a nap. We meet astrally because we’re based all over the globe.

  What are you working on?

  Her thoughts held only honest curiosity. He kept his light. Our main project involves getting ready for a big recruitment drive we’re going to start next year. The logistics are a challenge. We’re going to have teams traveling from city to city around the world, staging events in convention centers and stadiums and anywhere else large enough to bring in a few hundred people and put them through a workout. We have to schedule around events that book their spaces years ahead. Business expos, conventions of every sort, arts and crafts shows, sports events. And I’d like to keep travel time for our teams to a minimum if I can.

  That does sound challenging. Her tone suggest she found the idea intriguing, not overwhelming, as Steve often did. Maybe after her training was complete he could snag her for his team.

  I’ve got some of the best people in the Covenant working with me. I couldn’t do it without them. The murmur of voices from the conference room fell quiet. Steve glanced at his watch before remembering that it was merely an extension of his astral flesh and kept time only as well as his subconscious mind could estimate it. He stepped back into the conference room and checked the clock on the wall. I’m sorry. Our break is over. I’ll tell you more about it this evening.

  All right. Talk to you later. Bye.

  Bye. Steve shoved the phone into his pocket and made the mental adjustment necessary to keep it there telekinetically. Anyone in their physical body who ventured up to the conference room would see it hovering a few inches over his chair, but it would be hidden from the other members of the committee. He’d take it down the hall to his office after the meeting before returning to his body. Covenant members wouldn’t be disturbed by the sight of random objects floating around the building, but there might be outsiders visiting who weren’t privy to the secrets of psychic powers.

  He sat down and cleared his throat. Everyone focused on him, politely refraining from inquiring about the interruption. He nodded to Adrian. “Sorry about that. Let’s pick up where you left off. How much is it going to cost us to persuade the Boise Basketweavers Association to move their show back a week?”

  Steve set down his fork, leaned back in his chair, and took a sip of a very nice pinot noir from a tiny but excellent Napa Valley vineyard. “That was wonderful, Rosalia. We couldn’t have done better at the finest steakhouse in LA.”

  Rosalia rose and gathered their empty plates. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. I made flan for dessert. Should I serve it now, or wait for later?”

  “Later, if you don’t mind. I’ll enjoy it more when I’m not so full.” He stood up and followed her around the counter to the kitchen portion of her loft apartment. “What can I do to help?”

  She gestured to a washcloth hanging by the sink. “Why don’t you wipe down the table while I load the dishwasher?”

  “All right.” Steve wet the cloth and cleaned the crumbs from the smooth dark wood of the dining table. By the time he hung it to dry, Rosalia had returned the kitchen to the immaculate cleanliness it had sported when they’d arrived. The whole apartment looked like it should be featured in an architectural magazine. Squares of
cool gray carpet on the dark hardwood floor separated the single spacious room into distinct areas. Rows of windows in the red brick walls revealed a gorgeous view of downtown. Bare metal beams overhead gave just the right industrial touch.

  Rosalia followed his appreciative glance. “I fell in love with this place as soon as the realtor let me in the door. I was lucky one was vacant. I signed the lease the next day.”

  “You must be doing well for yourself to be able to afford it.” Steve strove to keep his voice mildly admiring. He’d lived comfortably on his professor’s salary, but he couldn’t have dreamed of such luxury. HBQ paid him considerably more, but his tastes were still modest. His current apartment was a nondescript townhouse near the headquarters building.

  “Well enough.” She took his hand and led him to a black leather sofa that faced two comfortable-looking chairs across a low coffee table. A small flat-screen TV hung discreetly on the wall. She gestured for him to take a seat. “More wine?”

  “That would be nice.” He settled onto the sofa, carefully avoiding looking at the perfectly made bed occupying its own square of carpet by the far wall. Somewhat to his surprise, Rosalia had maintained a reserved distance since she’d met him in his office after her session, even after the door of her apartment had closed behind them. He’d followed her lead, half relieved, half disappointed. He responded to her nearness as strongly as ever, but he was determined to establish at least the beginning of an emotional and intellectual connection before proceeding any further physically.

  What had happened last night felt even more like a dream than astral experiences usually did. It was hard to believe that glorious interlude had been real. How had he let himself slip so easily into intimacy within hours of renewing their acquaintance? Not that it had taken any longer the first time. He’d never had any restraint where Rosalia was concerned.

  She returned with their glasses and the bottle of wine. She topped off both drinks before handing him his and settling beside him. “So tell me more about the recruiting sessions you mentioned. They sound a lot more involved than I’d expect. Can’t you just yell telepathically and see who jumps?”

  He snorted ruefully. “I wish it were that easy. Unfortunately, a lot of gifted people learn to block subconsciously. As we both have reason to know.” Rosalia returned his quirked eyebrow and wry smile as he took a drink. “And many people with only trace abilities can hear when a trained telepath speaks to them. The only reliable way we’ve found to separate out those with significant psychic potential is to give them a good hard workout first. For most people with latent talents, the body hangs on to the spirit for dear life. The looser the connection between mind and body, the tighter the body has to cling to compensate. But when the body’s exhausted, its grip weakens. In the US, we’re planning to use several different types of workouts to attract different sorts of candidates. One’s going to be based on yoga, one on karate, one on Tai Chi, one on a traditional boot camp approach.” He went on to describe the plans in depth, growing more enthusiastic and more detailed as Rosalia listened with interest, asked insightful questions, and contributed her ideas.

  “Will I be working with these sessions? If I decide to join, I mean.” Her voice was casual, but Steve could tell the question was important to her by the way her lips tightened just a little.

  “Maybe. If that’s where they decide you can do the most good. But with your combination of business experience and precognition, I think they’re more likely to assign you to the investment and financial group.”

  Her interest quickened. “It must take a lot of money to do the sorts of things you’ve described.”

  “It certainly does. But the Covenant has existed for eight thousand years. We’ve been investing the whole time, guided by people with visions of the future. At this point we control a substantial fraction of the world’s wealth. We don’t have to worry about running out of funds.”

  Rosalia’s eyes widened. Then she frowned. “You don’t have scruples about trading on information unavailable to anyone else? Seems unethical to me.”

  “We follow guidelines designed to keep things fair. For the most part we buy and hold assets long-term, unless someone gets a flash of a stock market crash or other disaster. Nothing’s stopping those outside the Covenant from taking advantage of similar visions if they have them. I expect you haven’t hesitated to let your visions guide your career.”

  She raised one shoulder and inclined her head. “From time to time.”

  “Then you’ll be a valuable asset. We’ve only got seven more years to amass everything we’ll need to carry us through the Seraphim’s arrival. Much as we have stockpiled, Solomon estimates we’ll need even more.”

  Rosalia’s brow furrowed. Steve gave her a moment to express whatever was bothering her, but she only looked away. He was about to break the silence when she turned back. “You know that from your visions? That it will happen seven years from now?”

  “Yeah.” Steve could now think about the huge black-and-copper dragon with only an appropriate amount of unease. The Seraph was their enemy, and would undoubtedly prove a wily and powerful one, but the thought of him no longer provoked the unreasoning terror Steve had lived with for so long. Thank god. Even after three years the relief was enormous. “They keep making minor course corrections that extend or shorten the timeline, but not by much.”

  “Hmm.” The crease reappeared in the center of her forehead.

  “What?” She was shielding her emotions from him. All he could pick up was a wisp of doubt.

  She shook her head. “Nothing. It’s just, the one time I saw them, it felt closer than that. I remember a distinct sense that what I was seeing would take place about ten years in the future. Which would only be two years from now.”

  His pulse quickened. “Not possible, from what I’ve heard them say. You must have been mistaken. You say you haven’t seen them again?”

  “No, just that once. Right after we—” One corner of her mouth tilted up. “You remember.”

  He certainly did. “Probably you were too, um, distracted, to get a good sense of the time. I’ve continued to have frequent visions of the Seraphim, and they all agree on that point. It’s going to be at least seven years, and perhaps longer, before their colony ship gets here.” He laughed, trying to erase the line that still marred her smooth complexion. “Which is a good thing, because we’re going to need every minute of that time to get ready. We’re extremely lucky to have such a precise estimate of their arrival, because calculations based on the Memories alone can only narrow it down to a window of twenty or thirty years.”

  She nodded, but he could tell she didn’t accept his explanation. “I’ve had lots of practice at pinpointing the timing of my visions. The feeling was quite clear. It couldn’t have been that far off.”

  Steve balled his fists. Why was she being so stubborn, when he obviously knew much more than she did on the subject? “It was, though. Or maybe you were seeing something different. The Seraphim have more scout ships like the one in the Memories. Maybe you were foreseeing one of them arrive.”

  “Maybe. Have any of your visions ever predicted something like that?”

  “No. But that doesn’t mean it won’t happen.”

  “Hmm.” Her closed expression and shielded thoughts gave Steve no hint whether or not he’d convinced her.

  “It’s okay, though. We can handle a small number of Seraphim arriving by surprise, as long as the mothership stays on schedule.” He deliberately relaxed his hands and gave her a wide smile. “So, speaking of the Memories, did your trainer show you the first one today? What did you think of it?”

  As he’d hoped, the obstinate look fell from her face, replaced by an expression of wonder. “It was amazing. To think, a perfect record of what someone eight thousand years ago saw and felt and thought. Has the Covenant ever worked with archaeologists to find the remains of Noh’s settlement?”

  “From time to time, but without much luck. They didn’
t leave much to distinguish it from any other neolithic site. His ‘ark’ was made entirely of wood, so it probably rotted away within a century.”

  She leaned toward him with an indrawn breath. “We see the ark in the other Memories?”

  Steve held up a hand. “Spoilers.” He grinned at her pout. “But—you’re not wrong. It doesn’t look much like the pictures they showed me in Sunday School, though. And no elephants or giraffes, unfortunately. Just a few cows and sheep.”

  She made a face of mock disappointment, sighing dramatically. “There go all my illusions. Oh, well. I still can’t wait to see it.” Her eyes lit up with anticipation.

  Steve’s heart stuttered. It was all he could do not to enfold her in his arms and press his mouth to those breathlessly parted lips. Instead, he settled back and kept his voice light. “Tell me more about your session. Who’s training you? Did they introduce you to astral travel? Were they terribly annoyed that I already had?”

  “Actually, I didn’t mention it.” She gave him a conspiratorial grin, her eyes dancing. “By that point I’d discovered that Flora does not approve of any deviation from routine.”

  Steve shuddered. “You’re not kidding. Flora’s been inducting people into the Covenant and training them to use their powers for more than fifty years. Nobody’s better at it. But she has very particular ideas about how it should be done.”

  “Which don’t include going on long jaunts the first time out of your body. She wouldn’t let me move more than a few feet from my cot. And I have strict instructions not to experiment on my own until my initial training is complete. Not even in the garden with the guardians on alert, let alone anywhere else.”

  Steve forced his eyes not to flick to her bed. “I’ll never tell. I only earned a scolding from Flora once, and that was enough for a lifetime.”