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

by Elana Brooks

  “What did you do?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “It was the first time Mathieu brought me to the Los Angeles office and introduced me around. We’d decided it would be my home base for a few years before I moved to New York to join the rest of the Eight. I wasn’t yet familiar with the layout of the building, and Mathieu had never been particularly careful about sticking to hallways and doors while in astral form, so… I was taking a shortcut back to the garden from the conference room when I accidentally blundered into a women’s bathroom.”

  “You didn’t.” Rosalia’s lips pressed tight to contain her laughter.

  He shook his head ruefully. “I did. Flora was working with a student and spotted me sneaking through the wrong section of wall into the garden, trying to pretend nothing had happened. After blistering my ears for at least half an hour, she made me go back into my body and personally confess and apologize to each of the women who’d been in there.”

  “Good for her.” He could tell Rosalia was trying to make her tone stern, but humor bubbled underneath.

  “Well, it certainly taught me my lesson. I never go through a wall—or floor or ceiling—unless I know what’s on the other side.” He pointed at her. “You should learn from my mistake.”

  “I will.”

  “So what else did Flora think was appropriate for your first lesson? I expect it was more limited but more thorough than what Mathieu taught me.”

  Rosalia gave him a detailed description of each exercise Flora had put her through. Steve listened with focused attention. He didn’t really care much about how the normal protocol for inducting new members into the Covenant differed from his own experience, but he was fascinated by Rosalia’s reaction to what she’d learned. Even the most basic instruction in skills she’d mastered as a child elicited excitement. She was still awed by the idea of a whole organization, thousands of people, dedicated to the use and advancement of gifts that had always isolated her from the rest of humanity.

  The passion in her voice aroused an ache of longing. Over the past three years he’d lost his fear of his paranormal abilities, and even come to appreciate them. He liked being able to use astral energy to accomplish feats that would otherwise be impossible. He was fiercely glad he’d be able to fight the Seraphim with the sort of power necessary to defeat them. But he’d never loved his gifts the way Rosalia so obviously loved hers.

  Before last night he’d never experienced the pure wonder and joy available to minds freed from their flesh, the sensory beauty of the astral plane, the profound intimacy of two selves touching with no barriers between them. She’d introduced him to a previously unknown world, just as much as he’d done for her.

  “…So we set up another appointment for tomorrow afternoon. She said if we meet every evening this week, I should be ready for the second Memory by Wednesday, and the third by next Saturday. She said I can have as long after that as I need to decide what I’m going to do.” She grinned ruefully. “Though from the tone of her voice, I’d have to be a great fool to turn down the opportunity to join the Covenant.”

  “I’m sure that’s what Flora believes, but not everyone feels that way. I’ll respect you whatever you choose.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Will you really? Even if I decide I’d rather get rich while millions of people die?”

  Steve flinched to hear his own words flung back at him. “I shouldn’t have said that. You don’t have to be in the Covenant to help people. We’ll need as many supporters as we can get among the general population. Especially the leaders who people look up to. If that’s the role you’d rather play, I won’t try to talk you out of it.”

  Her raised eyebrows and the twist of her lips conveyed her skepticism, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she changed the subject. “How did you feel about quitting your job at UCLA and going full time with HBQ?”

  He thought back to that time, remembering the emotional turmoil he’d gone through when everything he’d thought he knew about the world had turned upside-down. “At first, I tried to persuade Mathieu I should stay. I badly wanted to redo my research correctly, once I knew how to quit interfering with my subjects. I argued that solid scientific evidence for the existence of psychic powers would help people accept us more easily when we go public. Which is true, but the Covenant already had people working on it. A lot of the studies that first drew my interest were performed or funded by people affiliated with HBQ. The simple truth was, my time and abilities were more valuable elsewhere. There are plenty of good researchers, but not many others who can do what we can.” He shrugged. “I still get the itch to go back to the lab on occasion. But honestly, after what I’ve seen of psychic powers, not to mention done with them, I expect grading kindergarten drawings would quickly prove insufferably boring.”

  Rosalia nodded slowly. “I’m very proud of what I’ve accomplished in my career. I’m good at what I do, and I’ve always enjoyed it. But after just one day working with people who understand the full extent of my abilities and value them, the thought of going back to the office Monday morning feels like returning to black-and-white Kansas after visiting technicolor Oz.”

  “That’s what Dorothy wanted.”

  “Because it was her home. Because that’s where the people who cared about her, who she cared about, were.” Her eyes met his. “Most of my family and friends are in the real world. But the ones I care about most are in the Covenant’s world. Abuela, and…”

  He couldn’t look away from the smoky intensity of her gaze. He strove to lighten the mood. “Are you implying that I’m the Scarecrow? I should be insulted that you think I don’t have a brain.”

  She didn’t smile or look away. “He was the smartest of any of them. And the Tin Man the most loving, and the Lion the bravest.”

  “So you think Dorothy should have stayed in Oz?”

  “Maybe. But that would have meant giving up so much of herself. Of what she’d always been.”

  Steve swallowed. “Maybe what she gained in exchange would have been worth it.”

  “You think so?” Rosalia reached for his hand. Steve wrapped his fingers around hers. They were warm, the muscles taut. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Show me. What I can have if I stay. If I leave everything I used to be behind.”

  He drew her into his arms and bent his head to hers. She pressed against him. Her thoughts opened to his. His defenses fell away, and they were in each other’s minds, experiencing each other’s sensations and emotions. He felt her feeling him feeling her, in an endless reverberation like two facing mirrors reflecting to infinity.

  Come to bed with me. She pulled him to his feet, and he willingly followed her across the room.

  When they crossed the boundary from wooden floor to rug, he paused, disengaging from her mind and body enough to formulate a separate thought. If you’d rather, we can do this in our astral forms, like yesterday. It would be safer and less messy. And a little bit less real, a little bit less dangerous. I won’t tell Flora.

  No. Bodies. Her mental tone was certain. She’d thought about what she wanted and planned for this moment. He caught a glimpse of memories before she tucked them away in the portion of her mind she was keeping private. This was familiar ground. She’d brought men here before, often enough to know exactly how she preferred the encounter to go. He was a guest in her territory, tolerated, welcome even, but subject to her rules.

  Had she let those images slip on purpose? Jealousy lurched in his stomach, but he dismissed it. It wasn’t as if he’d expected her to be celibate. He wasn’t conceited enough to think that their one disastrous time together had ruined her for other men. He hadn’t refrained from sex in the intervening years, either.

  Although she’d ruined him for other women. Nothing else had ever come close. Already the touch of her lips on his mouth and her hands on his arms was better than anything he’d experienced since that night.

  If she felt his reaction or glimpsed his past in turn, she gave no sign with body or mi
nd. Her focus was wholly on the moment, on the deft motions of her fingers as she unbuttoned his shirt and the saltiness of the skin she licked as it was revealed. He abandoned conscious thought and sank into shared sensation.

  They stripped each other slowly, thoroughly enjoying each new freedom as the barriers fell away. Rosalia slid to her knees and took him into her mouth. He felt her delight in the way his penis slid against her tongue and lips. He gave her the intense joy of her warm, wet softness. She teased and breathed and sucked and lapped until he teetered on the brink of release, then pulled away with a groan that gave voice to his own exquisite frustration.

  She rested her forehead against his hip for a moment before scrambling to her feet. “Dios mio, and I thought nothing could be better than last time.”

  He wrapped his arms around her. “I’m not afraid anymore. Not of my powers, at least.”

  Her teeth caught her lower lip and dragged across it. “Of other things?”

  Why had he said that? He didn’t want to spoil this. But their shared thoughts demanded honesty. “Of… losing myself. Of losing you. Of this being too good to last.”

  “Me, too,” she whispered. She let her fear flow out to join his. They swirled together, bittersweet, with an ache that somehow enhanced the desire surging between them, like a bite of chile in chocolate. Voiced and shared, the fear ceased fighting their union and instead became another thread pulling them into closer, deeper intimacy.

  Rosalia drew a deep breath and sank onto the bed, pulling him down with her. She reached out telekinetically to the drawer of her bedside table and extracted a condom from the box there. It flew to her hand and she tore open the package. “I’m not forgetting this time.”

  “No,” Steve said hoarsely as she rolled it on him. Briefly he wished for the freedom of astral forms, but that fled as Rosalia straddled him and sank down to take him into her body. Hopefully the slight dulling effect of the latex would let him last long enough to give her a full share of the pleasure that roared through him.

  Their hips moved together, rising and falling. Rosalia leaned over him, her breasts caressing his face and filling his mouth. She kept him just short of the breaking point, while her orgasms swept through them both over and over. Finally, when he could bear it no longer, he rolled her over and drove into her with desperate need. She wrapped her legs around his hips and urged him to faster and harder efforts with her cries. Higher and deeper and brighter than he could have imagined they spiraled, until the flood broke over them both in a crashing, drowning wave.

  Some infinite time later he returned to normal awareness. Rosalia’s curves cushioned his body. He stirred, and her arms and legs tightened around him. “I like your weight on me.”

  “I remember.” He felt it, as he had before, solid and secure. This time there was nothing to send him fleeing. They were both free to savor the precious, warm afterglow of their lovemaking.

  He nuzzled her neck. “No visions?”

  “Not this time. I’m keeping that part of my mind shut so nothing will interrupt.” She gave him a slow, lazy grin. “In a few minutes we can clean up and have some flan for dessert. And later some dessert, if we feel like it.”

  “That sounds delicious. But not yet.” He laid his head on her chest.

  “Mmm.” Rosalia stroked his hair, his shoulders, his back. After a long, lovely silence, when he was teetering on the brink of sleep, her voice rumbled into the ear pressed against her body. “I’m going to be tired tomorrow after a full day of training, but I don’t care. I want you to come back.”

  “Your wish is my command, my lady.” He thought about rolling off of her, but couldn’t yet bring himself to. “Or you could come to my place. I could cook for you this time. I make a mean chicken parmigiana, if I do say so myself.”

  “No. Here. If you want to cook, you can use my kitchen. But it will probably be more convenient for us to eat out somewhere or grab some takeout.” She wriggled, and Steve obediently slid from her body and climbed out of bed.

  The loss of separation was softened by the promise of more to come. Tonight, and tomorrow, and… He refused to look too far into the future. Let this happen one sweet, precious day at a time.

  Chapter 16

  Present

  The Seraphim ship loomed before Sarangerel, familiar from Robert’s memories. She let her thoughts ring with full, unmoderated force. Commander Sarthex, I wish to speak with you.

  The alien’s telepathic voice answered her promptly. Come to the bridge.

  The reply was accompanied by an image of the location on the ship Sarthex referred to, but it was unnecessary. Sarangerel soared through the shell of guards and arrowed to the place Robert had visited, his experience hers. She passed through the hull of the ship and into the space where Sarthex waited, copper fins spread wide. Several other Seraphim, nearly as large, hovered nearby, but she had eyes only for the first and strongest of them. He alone might prove her match.

  Robert had assured her that she was stronger than the aliens’ leader, but her husband was soft and optimistic. She adored that about him, and the trait provided balance to her cynical nature that was often useful, but in this instance she would trust her hard realism. Nothing could be gained by underestimating their ally or letting themselves slip into the belief that Sarthex’s cooperation was based on anything more than his estimation of the benefit he would gain from the arrangement. Or allowing sentiment to cloud the fact that their alliance with the Seraphim rested solely on the exact same basis. Robert already liked the creatures and imagined they liked and respected him in return. Sarangerel knew better.

  Sarthex dipped his middle fins in the manner that indicated he addressed an equal. “I take it you’re a representative of Angel? Robert sent you?”

  “Robert is my husband. We lead Angel together.” For so long she’d despaired of finding a man worthy to stand beside her. Before they’d bonded, Robert’s psychic abilities had been somewhat less than hers, and she’d mistaken his mildness for weakness. But eventually she’d learned his soul had a steadfast, quiet strength that could meet and match any fire she poured into it. “My name is Sarangerel.”

  “Greetings, Sarangerel. What has Angel accomplished since I spoke with Robert?”

  She refused to assume an apologetic attitude or admit to any shame that their first endeavor had failed. “We launched an attack which the Covenant countered. You led us to believe our actions were shielded from precognition, yet from their response it was clear they’d received a warning of what we planned. It could have come from ordinary sources, but I doubt it. We’ve had years of experience concealing our activities from the Covenant, and never before have they penetrated our defenses. It’s far more likely your shielding contains a flaw they were able to exploit.”

  Sarthex studied her with a disturbing degree of perception. “You believe you know the nature of this alleged flaw.”

  She kept her eyes fixed on him. “We have agents within the Covenant who keep us informed. Five years ago, a new member joined the Eight. Steve Miller claimed to have precognitive visions of your arrival which placed it five years from now. Now those visions are known to have been false, created by you so the Covenant would be unprepared when you reached Earth.”

  Sarthex inclined his long, narrow head. “A ploy which has been as successful as we hoped.”

  “Why did you choose Miller for your scheme?” Sarangerel held her breath. His response would tell her whether her theory was correct.

  The alien regarded her intently, though she couldn’t tell if his gaze held surprise or contempt. “Because he had both strong telepathy and negligible native precognition. We had to exempt the one we chose from our shielding so our transmissions could enter through his precognition receptors. Our deception would have quickly fallen apart if our subject was able to receive true visions along with the false ones.”

  Sarangerel exhaled in a rush. “As I suspected. Though he now knows of your deception and you’ve ceased transmitt
ing false visions, he remains exempt from your shield, correct?”

  “Correct.” Sarthex flicked his tail, swimming closer to her. “You think he’s receiving true precognitive visions? That should be impossible.”

  She clasped her hands behind her back, digging her fingers hard into her astral flesh. “When the Eight foiled our attempt to destroy them, they were joined by a woman who isn’t one of their number. She accompanied Miller back to where they’d left their bodies, on the far side of the continent. I followed them there and challenged them. From what I observed as we fought, their relationship is a romantic one, though it was obvious they weren’t soul bonded.”

  The way they’d interacted, as well as the argument she’d heard beginning as she retreated, reminded her of the tempestuous early days of her relationship with Robert. “I had our agents retrieve her Covenant records. Her name is Rosalia Escamillo. She joined them about two years ago. Her gifts are moderately strong and include a significant talent in precognition.” She stopped, watching to see if Sarthex came to the same conclusion she’d reached.

  Transparent membranes slid across his eyes, then retreated. He gave no other sign of surprise. “You think she somehow exploited Steve Miller’s immunity to our shield in order to access an accurate vision of your attack. Dovex, is that possible?”

  One of the slightly smaller Seraphim who’d been watching them swam forward and waved its middle fins at Sarthex. “Theoretically, yes, if the two Humans were in close telepathic contact. But their minds would have to be extremely intimate, to the point where their thoughts were entirely open to the other. None of us would ever allow ourselves to become so vulnerable to another, not even the Bleater weaklings. When we formulated our plan, it never occurred to me that the aliens might do so.”

  “Now we know they do,” Sarthex growled. He swung back to Sarangerel. “You said they didn’t share one of those bonds.”