Red Sky in the Morning (The Covenant of the Rainbow Book 1)

by Elana Brooks

  Heaven knew her life was out of control right now. Ever since the yoga workshop, events had careened like a runaway train, dragging her in their wake. Rabbi Sensei and Keiko and Adrian had kept saying the choice was hers, but it hadn’t felt that way. She’d felt like she had no choice at all. She’d been trapped on the path they’d laid out for her, taking one step after another with no chance to veer to the side or turn around.

  It was all Adrian’s fault. Before he’d come to Cleveland, she’d been doing fine. Everything had been going so well.

  She’d made so many defiant plans back when her mother had kicked her out, never really daring to hope they’d work out. But she’d accomplished them all. She had the precious college degree she’d slaved for. She’d had the job she’d never believe she’d get, the career that promised security for her whole future. All her dreams had come true.

  She just hadn’t yet found new dreams to replace the old ones.

  Maybe that’s why she’d been so vulnerable to Adrian’s seductive voice, luring her out of her old life into a new one. One that was exciting, full of the promise of wonders. But also terrifying, vast and uncharted. Way, way beyond her ability to organize into neat little steps she could accomplish one at a time, each leading to the next until she got where she wanted to go.

  What if I don’t like it, Adrian? What if I want to go back? I never asked for this. I never asked for you to come and show me how limited my world was, how small my dreams had become.

  They were big dreams once, almost beyond my reach, but I reached them. I deserved to enjoy my success.

  But then you came and showed me new dreams, dreams far too big to ever accomplish. You made me a failure all over again. His face swam before her, so beautiful, so unattainable. Why, Adrian? Why?

  A thought that wasn’t her own reverberated in her mind. Beverly?

  Chapter 10

  Beverly’s eyes flew open. “Adrian?”

  Her voice echoed hollowly through the empty apartment. Of course he wasn’t here. She’d just imagined she heard his voice.

  Beverly, is that you? You sound upset. I was surprised to hear you; Rabbi Sensei didn’t tell me you’d gotten far enough with telepathy to be able to contact me.

  Telepathy. Duh. Her stupid brain must have butt-dialed him. How much of that drivel had he overheard?

  She tried to focus her thoughts and send them in his direction. I’m sorry. It was an accident. I was just, um, thinking too loud, I guess.

  It happens. Don’t feel bad. Want me to break the contact, or do you want to give it a shot?

  No! Beverly sat up and shoved her pillow vertical so she could lean back on the headboard. There was something very comforting about the feel of Adrian’s thoughts in her head. And the conversation was distracting her from the pain in her stomach. I mean, maybe we could talk for a few minutes. I could use the practice with telepathy.

  Sure. She got the feeling he was settling into a more comfortable position, much as she just had. She hoped she hadn’t woken him up. His mental tone went hesitant. Want to tell me what was bothering you? I’d be happy to listen.

  She shrugged, wondering if her brain would transmit the gesture to him. I was just feeling sorry for myself. Tell me what you’ve been up to. Where are you now?

  Chicago. I’ve been training my replacement. You know, the one who’s going to take over the yoga screenings when I come to New York. Her name’s Rosalia. You’d like her. He sent her an image of a lovely Hispanic woman arched in a graceful yoga pose.

  A wave of jealousy washed over Beverly. She stuffed it down, trying desperately to block it from Adrian’s perception. God, she’d be mortified if he ever got a clue she’d reacted that way. She worked hard to keep her mental tone casual. She’s part of the Covenant? Maybe we’ll meet one of these days.

  I hope so. His thoughts gave no clue he’d noticed anything. Good. Maybe she wasn’t totally transparent to him, even with the whole soul bond and touching minds and everything. What about you? he went on. Have you been learning a lot?

  Some. I saw the first Memory.

  His interest sharpened. So you know about Noh and the others. And you’ve seen the Seraphim. What do you think?

  I think I should have paid better attention in Sunday School. The few times Mom wasn’t too hung over to take me.

  God, what had possessed her to say that? Too late to take it back now. She tried to project tough unconcern. If he couldn’t handle the less palatable bits of her history, too bad for him. If they were going to be working together, editing everything she said to hide her background was going to get real old, real fast. Better to just be frank and dare him to freak out.

  First test passed; he let her comment go by without reacting. I don’t know if that would have helped. Most of what’s in the rest of the Memories didn’t make it into the Bible. Wry humor. I expect when things go public we’re going to have a lot of fundamentalists denouncing us as heretics.

  You don’t think they’ll be over the moon at proof the flood really happened? Whatever. As long as no one tries to burn me at the stake.

  Adrian sent a vivid, cartoonish image. Beverly stood bound to a stake in the middle of a pile of firewood, surrounded by leering villains with torches. Logs flew into the air and rained blows on the heads of the executioners. They fled screaming as Beverly burst from her bonds.

  Beverly giggled. With a little concentration, she sent Adrian an addition to the vision. Cartoon Beverly shot the bird after her fleeing tormentors with both hands. Adrian chuckled in appreciation.

  I almost hope I get the chance. Serve them right! More thoughtfully, she asked, Do you think I’ll really be able to do stuff like that?

  Telekinesis? Sure. Not everyone’s good at it, but strong as you are I doubt it’ll be very hard for you. Rabbi Sensei hasn’t started you on it yet?

  No. She didn’t try to keep him from sensing the frustration bubbling up in her gut. The only thing we’ve worked on is astral projection. And only the very basics.

  Well, that is the foundation of everything else. Your astral self is what lets you pull energy from the astral plane to accomplish all the other effects. He paused for a moment, then went on, his tone carefully neutral. If you like, we could get together astrally. You probably shouldn’t travel far yet, but if you don’t mind, I could come there. That way we could talk face-to-face, instead of by mental telephone.

  I’d love to, but Rabbi Sensei put a stupid block on my ability to project. He doesn’t think it’s safe for me to leave my body unless I’m under his supervision.

  Oh, well. Some other time. This is fine for now.

  Beverly licked her lips. You could come here anyway.

  Do you want me to? You won’t be able to see or hear me if you can’t separate your astral eyes and ears from your physical ones.

  Yeah, I think I would. You’d be able to see me, right? And my apartment?

  Yes. You know how it is. Astral eyes can see both worlds. And we’ll still be able to talk telepathically, of course.

  Then please, come. I’d really appreciate some company right now.

  After a long moment, his reply came, his mental voice a little strained. Okay. I’ll be on my way in a minute.

  Beverly gulped and pulled the sheet up to her neck, hiding her ratty pajamas. Knock before you come in!

  Of course. Manners don’t change just because you’re out of your physical body. See you soon.

  How long did it take to travel astrally from Chicago to New York? Remembering her flight into space, she bet it wouldn’t be long. She scrambled out of bed and yanked her clothes on, trying not to think about how much she wished it was her soaring through the starry night.

  As she headed down the short hall to the tiny living room, wondering how one played host to a spirit, his voice sounded in her head. I’m outside your door. May I come in?

  Okay. She stared at the blank surface of the door. Only the little round peephole broke the expanse of pale blue. Are you in?
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  Yeah. I’m going over to sit on the sofa. Watch.

  She swiveled and fixed her eyes on the sofa’s dark blue corduroy upholstery. The far seat cushion sank into an oblong hollow, as if under the weight of someone’s butt and thighs. I’ll stay right here unless I tell you I’m going to move. But I’d rather not spend the telekinetic effort to keep this up, if you don’t mind. The cushion sprang back into its usual shape.

  That’s fine. She could clearly picture him sitting there, turned slightly sideways to watch her. She went over and sat down beside him, angling her body to face his direction. She addressed the empty air. “This all right?”

  It’s great. Even if you are staring past my left ear. Warm humor tinted his thoughts.

  She chuckled and looked away. I guess it’s pretty hopeless trying to look at you when you’re invisible. Is it stupid that I like you being here, even though it doesn’t really make any difference?

  I don’t think so. It’s not much stranger than two people sitting in the same room texting each other.

  She grinned. My roommate in college did that with her boyfriend all the time. Drove me crazy.

  He sent her an image of a warm smile. Her breath caught for a moment, and she turned away to hide her reaction. His tone was equally warm. Hopefully it won’t be long before Rabbi Sensei releases the block and we can interact more normally. Of course, by then I’ll probably be in New York physically anyway.

  The thought of his physical body sitting so close beside her flustered her. Awkward as this was, it felt more comfortable than that would, somehow. She ran her fingernails along the arm of the sofa, tracing one smooth channel between velvet ridges. Next week, huh?

  That’s the plan. Nice place you’ve got here. Did HBQ help you find it?

  Yes. They gave me a list to choose from. It’s crazy expensive. But even so, I think they must be subsidizing the rent without telling me, because I was looking at other places not on the list and they were way more.

  Don’t worry about it. HBQ can afford it. They’d pay the whole cost, but Rabbi Sensei probably thinks you’ll be happier if you feel independent.

  Even if it’s an illusion? She let the bitterness of that thought flow without hindrance.

  Hey, what’s wrong? Don’t you trust Rabbi Sensei? I promise, he’s got your best interests at heart.

  She laughed without humor. No he doesn’t. She rubbed her fingers rhythmically across the grain of the fabric, the little brrrp, brrrp noises punctuating her thoughts. Nobody’s ever had my best interests at heart except me.

  Wait a minute. That’s not fair. What’s Rabbi Sensei done to make you think—

  She cut him off. He told me so himself. He said his primary goal is to defend humanity from the Seraphim. Do you think he’d hesitate a second to sacrifice me, or you, or anybody else he needed to, to accomplish that?

  Well, no. She sensed Adrian’s confusion, but his tone remained certain. But any of us would be willing to sacrifice ourselves for that. So would he. We all share the same goal.

  Maybe I don’t. At his immediate burst of protest, she held up her hand. I’m not even convinced it’s all true yet. And even if I eventually am, maybe I’ll decide I’d rather head for the hills and let civilization go to hell. It’s not like humanity has done such a great job with this planet. Maybe a good dose of apocalypse is just what we need.

  Really? You’d let people die when you could save them? His skepticism hit her strongly.

  What makes you think I can save anybody? She turned her back to his invisible presence. Yeah, yeah, strong psychic powers, blah, blah, blah. I get that from Rabbi Sensei every day; I don’t need more of it from you. I’m beginning to think it’s all baloney, anyway. What evidence do you have except that I was quicker than usual at learning to astrally project? Maybe that’s all there is to it, and I’m hopeless at anything else.

  You reached me telepathically all the way in Chicago. That’s not something a beginner who’s only known about her powers for a week would normally be able to do.

  She shrugged. That’s probably just the soul bond thing. As he started to respond she waved her hand. I don’t want to talk about it.

  For a long moment he was silent. Finally, very carefully, he asked, Did you mean what you said? That no one has ever had your best interests at heart? I don’t mean to pry, so feel free to shut me down if you don’t want to talk about this either, but you’ve said a few things that make me think your family situation wasn’t the best. I’d like to listen to anything you’re willing to tell me.

  Beverly stood up and paced the three steps to the kitchen. She had a weird urge to dump the whole stinking load in his lap and see what he did with it. Chances were he’d bail as quick as he could manage. That would put an end to this little tête-à-tête and any future ones. But she was suddenly immensely tired of bearing the burden alone. He was too nice to be purposefully cruel about anything she told him, and she could handle unthinking callousness and polite rejection if that was the price of entrance to the confessional.

  She swiveled on the ball of her foot and strode the three steps back. She fixed her gaze on the seemingly empty spot where his astral form sat. Do you really mean that? You want the whole ugly story? Think you can take it?

  His mind met hers with quiet resolve. Try me.

  You asked for it. She took a deep breath and resumed pacing, the memories coming in jerky flashes and disjointed waves. My mom got pregnant with me in high school. My dad was in college. Her parents kicked her out, and they lived together for a few years. Never bothered to get married. They both cheated on each other. I was in cheap crappy day cares most of the time. Dad left when I was three.

  His mind was a steady listening presence. She almost forgot he was there as she rambled on. I thought it was normal that men would come live with us for a few weeks or months, then go away. Some of them were nice, most of them ignored me, a few were mean. Mom would be head over heels in love for a while, then one day she’d start yelling at him, and pretty soon he’d be gone and she’d be telling me what a bastard he was and how much better off we were without him. She always drank, but it was worse right after she dumped a boyfriend.

  I loved school for a while, because it got me out of the house. But before long kids started teasing me about how my clothes were always dirty and torn and too small. We had money, or at least Mom only screamed about Dad missing child support payments once or twice that I remember. But it all went to booze or skimpy dresses for her to go off dancing in. We moved around a lot, whenever she’d miss too many rent payments and we got evicted. I changed schools so many times I was always behind.

  By the time I was twelve I was sick of it. I asked if I could go live with Dad. She pretended to be upset, but I could tell she was secretly glad. He’d gotten married and started a business that really took off. He lived in a big fancy house and drove an expensive car. He and my stepmother were always going to important parties and leaving me to babysit my half-sisters.

  School was better for a while. Then my breasts got really big, really fast. Boys started noticing me. I liked it, but it made the other girls jealous. At first they just wouldn’t talk to me or sit with me at lunch, which didn’t matter because I’d hang out with the guys. Then they started spreading rumors that I was sleeping around. Guys would think it was true and come on to me. After a while I figured, if everybody believed I was doing it anyway, why not? I was careful; I wasn’t going to make the same mistake my mom had, and taking care of my little sisters made me sure a bratty kid was the last thing I wanted. The first time was pretty good; I came and everything. None of us ever pretended to be in love, it was just about the sex. I was fine with that.

  Pretty soon everybody in town knew I was a slut, and people started saying things to my dad. He was furious at me for tarnishing his reputation. He told me I couldn’t live with him anymore, that I’d have to move back in with my mom. She was desperate for the child support money, so she agreed.

  I’d bee
n slowly gaining weight all this time. Whenever I was unhappy, I’d eat. It got worse after I moved to my mom’s. She never cooked, so we’d eat cheap fast food most of the time. After a while boys quit being as interested in me. I was glad; I was over meaningless hookups by then.

  So anyway, my mom brought a new boyfriend home. He was all over her, but he liked to look at me, too. It felt creepy. I stuffed myself, hoping he’d lose interest if I got really fat, but it didn’t stop him. He never touched me, but I think if I’d ever given him even a little encouragement, he would have.

  Mom decided one of us had to go. And it wasn’t going to be the one giving her orgasms. So on my eighteenth birthday she kicked me out. Said she’d done her duty to me and now I was on my own.

  The last few months of my senior year I couch surfed. One girl’s parents let me stay with them for six weeks before they said I had to move on. After that I stayed in a shelter for a while. I hung on until graduation, but my grades took a hit.

  As soon as school was out I started working minimum wage jobs. A church helped me rent an apartment. Sometimes I had roommates to help make ends meet. Eventually I started taking classes at the community college. After a few years I had enough credits to transfer to UC. I took out student loans and moved on campus so I could attend full time.

  Beverly took a deep breath. And you know the rest. She turned back to face the empty couch. Maybe Adrian had gotten bored and wandered off halfway through her monologue. She wouldn’t blame him.

  But his thoughts came immediately into her mind, as warm and supportive as when she’d started. Thank you for telling me all that. I know it’s hard for you to trust people. Now I understand better why.

  She spread her hands and flopped her head to one side. She felt curiously free and light, almost the way she had when floating above her body. Oh, I trust people. I trust them to act according to their nature. Once I quit expecting my parents to act the way everybody said parents were supposed to act and started trusting them to act like themselves, it got so much easier. Because they always did.