by Elana Brooks
They should have jumped in to stop Miller and Escamillo from forming a soul bond, but the pair had been clever enough not to speak of their intention aloud. By the time Sarangerel had realized what they were doing, it was too late. Now they were even stronger than they’d been before.
When Sarthex had given them this assignment, Robert had assumed it would be straightforward. Maybe Miller would be a challenge, but Escamillo was a relatively weak psychic and should be easy to overwhelm. Carlos had almost taken her out with his first attempt. He would have, if she hadn’t recognized him and been on guard. Since then, though, none of them had gotten close. Her precognition made it damn hard to catch her by surprise.
They’d decided to wait until both of their targets were asleep to strike. They’d been in the middle of debating how to add an element of randomness to the timing so that any warning would come too late to alert them, when both Miller and Escamillo had frozen, gripped by a vision. Their discussion afterward had made it clear that Angel no longer had the luxury of biding their time until the perfect moment. They had to stop word of the Seraphim’s future actions from reaching the rest of the Covenant.
Robert pulled back the bit of astral flesh that had protruded into their hotel room, re-formed his body into its natural shape from the flat, camouflaged disk he’d assumed, and joined Sarangerel and Carlos as they passed through the wall into the room. The three of them ranged themselves in a line facing Miller and Escamillo. He spoke for them, as had become their custom. Sarangerel was stronger, but she tended to let her anger overpower her. He could stay calm. The passion that drove her to fiery outrage chilled him to icy purpose, while leaving the affable persona he affected untouched.
“Sorry, mate.” Robert spread his hands. “Can’t let you do that.”
Miller had always been a cocky bastard, but now he radiated even greater power and assurance. “No more games, Anderson. We’re tired of being harassed. This time we fight to kill.” His eyes swept across the three of them. They rested for a long, calculating moment on Sarangerel before returning to Robert.
The threat couldn’t have been more clear if he’d shouted it. It provoked sick terror in the pit of his gut, just as Miller must have intended, but Robert had dealt with that sort of fear long enough to know how to channel it. He let his smile drift wider and kept his tone pleasant. “As do we.” He looked pointedly at Escamillo.
The rage in Miller’s response was all he could have wanted. With their soul bond so new, both he and Escamillo would be vulnerable to its unaccustomed effects.
The American clenched his fists and snarled, “Stay the hell away from her, motherfucker.” He made an abrupt gesture, and a huge, sizzling ball of energy shot toward Robert’s chest.
He summoned an astral shield and deflected the missile toward Escamillo. She shielded in turn and knocked it back. Sarangerel flung a burning sphere at Miller, and the fight was on.
Apparently their partners had been conducting a similar exchange of threats with their eyes, because they concentrated their attacks on the men, while he and Miller each went after the other’s woman. As expected, the soul bond made their enemies far stronger than they’d been in previous encounters, but they still had only a slight edge on Sarangerel and him. And there was Carlos to tip the balance in Angel’s favor.
According to the tactics they’d discussed, he and Sarangerel kept their foes occupied with a fierce onslaught. Meanwhile Carlos drifted farther and farther to the side. He deliberately kept his attacks weaker than he was capable of. Miller and Escamillo responded as they were supposed to, ignoring him more and more to focus on what seemed to be the greater threat. When their attention was thoroughly diverted, Carlos dropped close to the bed where the two motionless bodies lay and put out his hand.
In perfect unison, Miller and Escamillo froze for a fraction of an instant. Before Robert could react and attack while they were vulnerable, they darted into motion. Escamillo fell with a cry of rage onto Carlos, meeting his telekinetic assault with countering telekinetic force while simultaneously launching a blazing ball of energy at his face. Miller charged with matching fury at Sarangerel. His initial shot glanced harmlessly from her shield, but his second ricocheted off Robert’s shield and clipped her tether a foot from her chest.
Sarangerel was the veteran of too many astral battles to let the hit shake her. She dove for the retreating end of her tether while Robert redoubled his barrage against Miller.
One of Escamillo’s shots connected with Carlos’s face and burned a swath of astral flesh away. In the moment of disorientation that followed his loss of vision, she sent another to slice through his tether. By the time he relocated his vision to a different spot, the severed end was past the wall and out of sight.
Catch it if you can, get back to your body if you can’t, Robert told him. We’ve got things under control here.
Carlos conveyed his reluctance to abandon the fight, but obeyed. Sarangerel let Robert know she’d been forced to chase her tether further than she’d expected, but she’d reconnected it and was on her way back. Miller and Escamillo turned with unified purpose to face Robert, pouring a torrent of blazing balls against his shield.
The sheer power of the assault surprised him. He turned all his concentration to defense, sparing only what was necessary to keep the telepathy barrier in place. If it faltered, they would be able to get a message through to the Covenant warning of what they’d foreseen. Once that happened, Angel might as well quit trying to eliminate Miller. Sarthex hadn’t told them what vital secret he was determined to keep from the Covenant, but Robert shared Miller’s opinion that the maneuver he and Escamillo had spoken of must be it. Now that they’d learned about it, they must be kept incommunicado until they were killed.
As Sarangerel burst back through the wall and renewed her attack, a lucky shot from Escamillo broke Robert’s tether. He saluted his wife as he zoomed past her. Take over the barrier. I’ll be right back.
She smoothly assumed control of the telepathy barrier from his mind and fell on their enemies with a blood-curdling cry. Robert spotted his rapidly retreating tether and chased it down. He was halfway across the city by the time he caught and reconnected it. This would have been easier if they’d had time to move their bodies closer, but between trips to the Seraphim ship and attacks on the Covenant, they’d barely been awake long enough to bolt a meal since Sarangerel had returned home from Los Angeles. As soon as there was a break, they would fly from Australia to the United States. Until then, at least their physical forms were safe from direct attack.
He hated to take more of Angel’s members away from the vital tasks that must be brought to unexpectedly swift completion now that the Seraphim’s arrival was imminent, but he no longer had a choice. Miller and Escamillo were proving much tougher to subdue than he’d expected. If he didn’t summon reinforcements, they might get away. Sarangerel could keep them busy for the few extra seconds it would take.
Robert focused his mind and sent a tight telepathic beam to nine Angel members in quick succession, outlining the situation in a burst of concentrated memory and ordering them to report. None of them alone were close to a match for Miller and Escamillo, but together they should be effective. He acknowledged their replies as he zoomed back toward the hotel. It would take them a while to find safe refuges for their bodies and travel astrally from their far-scattered locations. There were members closer, but most of those in the States were either already embedded in the Covenant or would be attempting to infiltrate soon. He’d only risk letting Miller and Escamillo learn their identities as a last resort.
A wave of anger and fear hit him as he neared the tall building. He put on a burst of speed and dove through the walls into Miller’s room, taking in the situation in one horrified glance. Sarangerel’s tether was gone, and her astral form was shrinking with every burst of energy that evaded her weakening shields. She fought with uncompromising defiance, re-forming in a heartbeat after each hit, hurling answering shots wi
thout pause, but her diminished power was no match for Miller and Escamillo’s combined onslaught.
Without thought, Robert threw himself between Sarangerel and their foes, spreading his astral flesh into a broad barrier. He snatched energy and formed a shield to deflect as many of their shots as he could, absorbing the rest without regard for the pain of evaporating flesh. Get back to your body! Would she have time? How long had it been since her tether broke? Could she make it all the way to Australia quickly enough, weakened as she was?
I’m not leaving you, she answered with grim, fierce pride. We’ll finish them together or go down fighting.
He knew he’d never persuade her. She would only agree to retreat when their enemies were dead. He hurled all his terror and rage into one final, brutal assault.
Escamillo’s tether burned away. She dropped back into her body. Miller strove to get shots around Robert. One made it through and grazed Sarangerel’s flank, destroying a few more cubic centimeters of what little astral flesh remained to her. She took off his foot with her return fire, but he ignored the injury and fought on without pause. Escamillo burst from her body and rejoined the fray. Her first missile got past Robert’s shield and took out a big chunk of his flesh.
As the pain flamed, everything became very slow and clear. This was it. They’d failed. All they could do was hurt their foes as much as possible before they died.
Sarangerel’s mind merged with his, united in despair and defiance. Together they summoned one last surge of strength. Ignoring the incoming missiles, Robert fed it all into a spear of telekinetic force driving toward Miller’s brain.
Miller fought him, and so did Escamillo, their strength multiplied by their bond, but Robert refused to give up, even when his tether broke and more of his astral flesh disintegrated. Millimeter by millimeter he battled to reach the vulnerable blood vessels.
Robert!
A thread of power reached its destination and snapped a single vein. Miller’s astral form faltered. Escamillo screamed and threw Robert across the room with a blast of raw energy.
Strong hands grabbed him from behind and thrust the broken end of his tether into his chest. Carlos shoved him toward Sarangerel. I couldn’t find hers. Get her home if you can. I’ve got the telepathy barrier.
Hope burned sharper than any of his enemies’ blows. Robert forced his tattered astral flesh to form a hand and seized Sarangerel by a stubby protrusion, all that was left of her right arm. As always, she was solid to him, but her flesh had a horrible tenuous feeling, as if at any moment his fingers might sink right through it. He recognized the sensation from the third Memory. Just so had Noh’s wife Nama felt when she was on the verge of death. Even their soul bond hadn’t allowed Noh to keep her in this world.
Sarangerel shaped her flesh into a rudimentary hand and returned his grasp. A single purpose consumed Robert, body, mind, and soul. He clung to his beloved with all his might and fled the scene of battle. West across the Pacific he towed her, accelerating until the sun moved backward in the sky, racing time and death.
Chapter 22
Present
Rosalia battered Carlos with a barrage of energy as Robert and Sarangerel vanished. What’s wrong? she cried.
Steve’s thoughts were thick and slow to form. I think he got me.
She cast a terrified glance at his body. He looked okay. Or was his face a shade grayer than normal? What should she do? She couldn’t think.
Steve summoned a ball of energy and threw it at Carlos, but it was much dimmer than his previous missiles and flew wide of its target. He put a hand to the back of his head and grimaced.
Rosalia forced her panic down and struggled to concentrate. First, get Steve safe. If he was in his body, Carlos couldn’t hurt him with astral attacks, and she could defend him from telekinetic ones if he couldn’t do it himself. They’d done so handily until Robert had unleashed that final kamikaze burst of power.
Into your body. She grabbed Steve’s wrist and pulled. He tried to resist, but he was getting weaker by the second. Because of their soul bond, he couldn’t make his flesh insubstantial and slide it from her grasp. She fired a few more shots at Carlos and hauled harder. Finally Steve yielded and let her shove him onto the bed. He collapsed onto his body and sank within.
Rosalia broadcast a telepathic cry as forcefully as she could. Help! But it had the muffled quality of all their attempts at reaching anyone outside this room since the fight began, and no one answered.
She had to get Steve medical attention as quickly as possible. Carlos deflected her final shot at his tether. She dropped into her body as he was summoning a retaliatory strike. She fought through the disorientation, desperate to shield herself and Steve from the telekinetic attack Carlos was sure to launch as soon as he saw that astral attacks would do no further good.
A wave of pressure slammed into her head. She shoved back with all her might. No pain, so she must have blocked it in time. As soon as she could move, she leapt from the bed and scrambled among her discarded clothes. Her cell phone was in the pocket of her slacks. The battery was low—she couldn’t remember how long it had been since she charged it—but the indicator still shone green. She fended off another telekinetic attack as she punched 911 with shaking fingers.
The lamp rose from the table and flew at her. She knocked it aside to crash against the wall. A voice spoke in her ear. “What’s the nature of your emergency?”
“My boyfriend just had a stroke. His brain is bleeding. He needs an ambulance right now.” Rosalia tore a pillow away from Steve’s face. Damn Carlos! At least now he was the only one she had to fight. The despair blasting from Robert as Sarangerel faded had cut into her heart, but nevertheless she hoped he hadn’t gotten her back to her body in time. One less enemy to worry about would be a blessing.
The operator’s voice remained calm. “What’s your location?”
“The Marriott hotel downtown. Room 859. Please hurry. His breathing is getting awfully ragged.”
The operator said something else, but Rosalia was too busy defending against murderous sheets, blankets, and towels to pay attention. She gathered up every loose article in the room, threw them into the bathroom, and slammed the door. Belatedly realizing she was still naked, she yanked the door open long enough to grab her clothes from the pile, along with Steve’s boxers. Carlos sent a hurricane of items against her, but she managed to get them all back inside and force the door closed. Her telekinesis, augmented by the soul bond, was much stronger than Carlos’s when they were directly opposed. As long as she didn’t let him surprise her, she’d be okay.
She struggled into her clothes, dragged Steve’s boxers over his hips, and tried again to break through the telepathic barrier, without luck. She’d have to use mundane means to contact someone. She didn’t dare break the connection with 911, so her phone was no use. She’d never learned the actual numbers for anyone in the Covenant, just used her phone’s contacts, so the room phone did her no good. She’d have to retrieve Steve’s.
Carlos must have temporarily given up, because the mess stayed on the floor when she opened the bathroom door and searched through it. That made her more nervous than relieved. What was he planning next?
She found Steve’s phone and turned it on. It had a fingerprint lock. She went to sit by him on the bed, smoothing a shaking hand over his forehead. “Steve, wake up.” Steve?
He didn’t respond to her voice, and his mind was dull and opaque. She shoved down panic as she grabbed his hand and pressed his fingertip to the pad. The paramedics would be here soon. They’d know what to do.
The phone went to its home screen. It was a brand Rosalia had never used before. She searched through the icons, feeling slow and clumsy, until she found the one with a phone symbol. She scrolled back and forth through the S’s for what seemed a long time before she realized the name she wanted was listed under M.
Mandelsky. She stabbed the button and pressed the phone to her ear. A ring sounded.
“Yes, Steve?”
“Solomon, it’s Rosalia. Steve’s hurt. Angel—“
The phone ripped out of her fingers and dashed against the floor. She grabbed for it both telekinetically and physically as it slammed repeatedly against every hard surface in the room. By the time she got it back, it was a mangled mess that refused to respond to her frantic efforts to revive it.
She screamed and flung it across the room. “Damn you, Carlos! Haven’t you done enough? Leave us alone!”
Of course there was no reply. She knew that Carlos, and Robert and Sarangerel if they’d survived, couldn’t abandon the fight any more than she could. Until she got news of their vision and the Seraphim’s plans to Solomon and the rest of the Eight, Angel would keep trying to contain the secret.
The wail of a siren came from below. Rosalia darted to the window and peered down through the darkness. Red and white lights flashed at the hotel entrance.
She flung the door open and waited. Everything remained still, but it seemed to take much longer than it should have until the elevator down the hall opened and paramedics poured out, a wheeled stretcher in their midst. She fought back sobs as she called to them and pointed to Steve’s frighteningly still body.
They surrounded the bed. Rosalia stood back, watching. An oxygen mask shot into the air. She grabbed it telekinetically and shoved it into the hands reaching for it. In rapid succession she caught and returned a blood pressure cuff, a thermometer, a syringe, and assorted other medical paraphernalia she didn’t have names for.
One of the paramedics whirled on her. “What the hell is going on?” she demanded. The others muttered their support, though they didn’t look up from their work.
