The Bearens' Hope: Book Four of the Soul-Linked Saga

by Laura Jo Phillips

  “What did he say?”

  “He said that he wants us to follow his instructions to the letter without...without...,” Lenny frowned as he struggled with the unfamiliar words. “Without deviousness or exc..ex...excitings.”

  Garid ran the words through his mind a few times, then sighed. “Do you mean, without deviation or exception?”

  Lenny smiled. “Yep, that’s what I said. So let’s get moving. It’s almost dawn already and we got four pulls to make.”

  Garid looked down at the printout in his hands and sighed again. Darck was a damn fool, but he was also the boss on this one, appointed by Stalnek himself. And this was Garid’s one and only chance to redeem himself. Arguing with the boss, even if he was an idiot, was insubordination. Insubordination was not the road to redemption. It was the road to evisceration.

  Garid shoved the printouts into his pocket and reached for his jacket before following Lenny out of the apartment. All hell was gonna break loose, but Garid had done the only thing he could to prevent it. He was not sticking his neck out any more. Now it was all on Darck.

  Chapter 17

  Earth, Arlington, Virginia

  Hope finished rinsing the paint from the last brush and blotted it dry before laying it on the counter with the other brushes. She wasn’t sure why she kept getting these urges to paint people she didn’t know and creatures she’d never seen or heard of, but they had been irresistible compulsions. After giving into the first one, she’d fought against the second one for two days. In the end she hadn’t been able to sleep, eat, or even think of anything else, so she’d given in out of pure desperation.

  Now, as she left the kitchen and wandered back into the living room of her apartment to gaze at the results of her most recent compulsion, it suddenly occurred to her that there a few things about the mural that were a bit too familiar. She reached up with one hand to the three braids she always wore on the side of her head, just above her left ear, and pulled them forward. She knew exactly what color they were, but she looked at them anyway, confirming that each one was the same color as one of the creatures now gracing her living room wall.

  Most people thought she dyed the braids, and she let them think that. But the truth was that she’d been born with the three one inch sections of oddly colored hair on one side of her head. One section was white, one deep, dark red, and the third a rich, golden brown. The rest of her hair was dark blonde, with light blonde highlights courtesy of her preference for spending as much time out in the sun as she could manage when she wasn’t working. She wore each colored section in a long braid that hung nearly to her waist, and she kept the rest of her hair in a long braid down her back that was nearly as thick as her wrist.

  The strange colorations in her otherwise normal hair color had always been a mystery to her, and to her mother and Aunt Olivia. Now she wondered if she had painted the colors on the mural the same as her own subconsciously, or if there was some deeper meaning to it. As she continued to stare at the creatures she realized something else. Their eyes were the same reddish-brown amber color as her cousin’s eyes. She had never seen anyone else with eyes that color before, and had no idea why she’d painted the eyes that way. That was just how they had looked in her mind.

  Hope flipped the three thin braids back over her shoulder and shook her head. She had no idea what the creatures she had painted on her wall were, or where the need to paint them had come from, but for reasons she was too tired to question, she felt better with them there.

  She yawned sleepily and headed for her bedroom. Now that the mural was done, she knew she wouldn’t have any trouble sleeping and she was looking forward to spending a lot of quality time with her pillow. She hoped she didn’t wake up with another compulsion. If she did, she was going to make an appointment with the first mental health physician she could find.

  Just as she stepped into her bedroom there was a knock at the door. She paused, wondering who could possibly be visiting at this time of morning. A quick glance at the clock and she sighed. It wasn’t as early as she’d thought. She turned and headed for the front door.

  Chapter 18

  Ellicia waited until the crowd of people working on the unit across the hall had left before allowing herself to relax. It had been a very long week for her, with the plumbers and painters and decorators working late into the evening each day. She could not feel comfortable with so many strangers around her any more, even if they were constantly supervised by employees of the Directorate. She’d made that mistake once before, and had no intention of repeating it.

  Once the building fell silent, she spent several minutes double checking all of her locks and alarms. Satisfied that everything was secure, she took a long bath, then went into the kitchen for a cup of herbal tea before bed. As soon as she stepped into the kitchen she saw his silhouette through the balcony window. She hesitated, trying to convince herself to turn around and pretend she hadn’t seen him, but she couldn’t. She crossed the room and opened the door.

  “Come on in, Harlan,” she said. “It’s too cold for me to come out there.”

  Harlan turned around, a frown on his face. “I don’t understand why you stay here,” he said as he crossed the balcony to the door and stepped inside. “It’s much safer for you at the Director’s place.”

  “I don’t want to have this conversation again,” Ellicia replied, closing and locking the door behind him.

  “Well, I don’t like it,” Harlan insisted.

  Ellicia arched a brow at him but said nothing. She turned around and began putting together the ingredients for her tea.

  “I know, I have no say in where you stay or what you do,” Harlan said softly. “But I can’t help but care.”

  “I know,” Ellicia replied as she put the cup into the thermette and pressed a button. Five seconds later she opened the door, took the steaming mug out and carried it to the table. “This isn’t about you, Harlan,” she said. “I need to be on my own. It’s just part of who I am. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

  Harlan sat down in a chair opposite her and studied her carefully as she stirred honey into her tea. “Something is bothering you, Angel,” he said. “What is it?”

  Ellicia smiled. Harlan had always been able to tell what she was feeling even though most people could not. “The Director wants me to work with a Jasani male-set who are coming here to look into a few things.”

  “The missing women?” Harlan asked, much to Ellicia’s surprise.

  “Yes, in part,” she said. “Also, it appears that every woman who goes to Jasan to be a contract or candidate bride, and then changes her mind and comes back, has her memory wiped.”

  “How did the Jasani find out about this?” Harlan asked.

  “They just realized that none of the women who go to Jasan ever know in advance that they are shifters, or that they do magic. They thought it strange that, after all of these years and with the high number of women who come back, that the information hasn’t gotten out.”

  “It is strange,” Harlan agreed. “Did you discover their minds were wiped?”

  “Yes,” Ellicia said as she wrapped her suddenly cold hands around the mug, enjoying the heat against them.

  “The Director doesn’t want you going back into the field, does he?” Harlan asked.

  “No, of course not,” Ellicia replied. “He just wants me to share info with them, take them on interviews, stuff like that.” As she spoke, she noticed an odd set of expressions come over Harlan’s face. He looked surprised, angry, horrified, and then, finally, resigned. “No,” he said softly. “No no no.”

  “What is it?” she asked.

  Harlan shook his head slowly, as though he had just learned something he didn’t want to know.

  “Harlan, what is it?” she asked again.

  Harlan looked up at her and smiled sadly, his eyes bright with what appeared to be unshed tears. “Tell me a secret,” Harlan said.

  Ellicia looked at him with startled eyes. “Really?”r />
  “Yes, Angel, really,” he replied.

  “No,” she said. “You still owe me a secret, remember?”

  “Yes, Angel, I remember,” he said, forcing a smile. “I guess I was hoping you would have forgotten.”

  “Not likely,” Ellicia replied. “Now, spill it.”

  This time Harlan’s smile was more genuine, though brief. “All right. I have a cousin who lives here, in Arlington,” he began, much to Ellicia’s surprise.

  “Really?” she asked. “How come you never told me that before?”

  “I promised never to tell anyone about her because she has a strong psychic talent, but never wanted to work for the government.”

  “They don’t force people to work for them, Harlan, you know that,” Ellicia said.

  “I know it now,” Harlan agreed. “But I did not know it before, and Hope still doesn’t know it.”

  “Hope? That’s your cousin’s name, Hope?”

  “Yes,” Harlan replied. “She’s an artist. She works from a small studio in her apartment doing hand painted portraits. She’s quite good at it too.”

  “What’s her psychic ability?” Ellicia asked curiously.

  “She has more than one,” Harlan replied. “The most useful is her ability to read objects.”

  Ellicia thought about that for a few minutes as she sipped her tea. Her talent was in finding objects. So long as she had at least touched or seen an object up close, she could find it anywhere on the planet. She was sometimes able to find objects if she had extremely detailed photos of them, or, better still, something associated closely with the object, such as the box in which a ring was kept, or the shelf on which a figurine had stood for an extended time. Her gift was a strong one, and she had worked hard to make it even stronger over the years.

  “Did you tell her about us?”

  Harlan started to reach out for Ellicia’s hand, thought better of it and pulled his own hand back. “Yes,” he said. “Not long after I met you, she got it into her head to go to Jasan and look for a husband. Or rather, three husbands since, as you know, that’s how they do things there. She didn’t want to agree to a sight unseen bridal contract, so she went to Bride House instead. That’s where you get to stay for six months and date, trying to find a match that works for you.”

  “Did she? Find a match, I mean,” Ellicia asked.

  “No, she didn’t,” Harlan replied. “She came back about a week ago.”

  “Harlan, that’s bad,” Ellicia said, suddenly worried. “All of the women I’ve interviewed so far who have returned from Jasan have had their memories tampered with. You need to check on her.”

  “I can’t, Angel,” Harlan said softly. “I need you to do it for me.”

  “Oh,” Ellicia said softly. “That’s not a problem. I will do it first thing tomorrow. Just tell me where she lives, and I promise, I won’t tell anyone else about her.”

  Harlan hesitated. “Angel, do you know the names of the Jasani that are coming here?”

  “The Director called them the Bearens,” she replied. “I don’t know their first names. Why?”

  “I will tell you Hope’s address, but you must promise me that you will not go there alone. You must take the Bearens with you.”

  Ellicia wasn’t sure if she was more surprised than angry, or the other way around. “I think I am at least capable of visiting another woman on my own,” she said coolly. “I don’t need chaperones.”

  “Ellicia, I know very well what your abilities are,” Harlan said. “That isn’t what this is about.”

  Ellicia stood up and took her mug to the sink. She rinsed it out, taking her time while she considered what Harlan said. He knew her, knew her strengths and her weaknesses. He had to have a reason for his request and, knowing him, it was a good one. She put the cup down on the counter and turned to face him.

  “Okay, I promise,” she said. “I will not go to see Hope until I have the Bearens with me.”

  Harlan arched a brow at her in exact mimicry of the one she had arched at him earlier. Ellicia grinned. “Nor will I vox her, nor write to her, nor contact her in any other way.”

  “Thank you, Angel,” Harlan said. “I promise, you will understand the reason for this.” Harlan gave Ellicia the address and waited for her to find a pad to write it down.

  “Vox code?” Ellicia asked.

  “Sorry, I don’t have one for her,” Harlan replied. “She didn’t think she would be coming back to Earth, so she had it disconnected. If she has a new one, I don’t know it.”

  “All right,” Ellicia said. It would be easy enough to get a vox code on the woman through the Directorate if necessary.

  “I have to go now,” Harlan said, standing up and moving toward the door.

  “Are you all right?” Ellicia asked suddenly. “Out there on your own, I mean.”

  “Yes, Angel, I’m fine,” Harlan replied. “You do not need to worry about me, I promise.”

  Ellicia nodded. “Will I see you again?” she asked, angry at herself for the question, but unable to prevent it from slipping out.

  “Yes, you will see me again,” he replied. “Take care of yourself,” he added softly. Ellicia nodded once more, then turned around, unwilling to watch him leave.

  A few minutes later, when she was certain he was gone, she checked the locks, turned off the lights, and went to bed. She struggled against the memories that insisted on flooding her mind, but in the end, she couldn’t stop herself from thinking about their secret ritual, and how it had begun a year earlier.

  Ellicia, Bobby and Harlan were in the training room, working on Ellicia’s knife throwing skills. She wasn’t very good at it, and was becoming more and more frustrated as the afternoon wore on.

  “I prefer a hand laser,” she said irritably when her last five knives missed the target completely. She was getting worse, not better.

  “Of course you do,” Harlan said patiently. “You’re very good with that weapon. But it never hurts to be familiar with more than one type of weapon. It’s a lot easier to conceal a knife than a laser, particularly these new micro-polymer ones. If your gun gets taken from you, they might assume that’s all you have and miss the knives.”

  “All right, all right,” Ellicia replied as she walked up the lane to retrieve her practice knives. Her vox beeped in her ear and she paused to answer it.

  “Yes?” she said. A moment later she turned around and hurried back up the lane, still listening to the Director as she grabbed her pack from its place in the corner and began rummaging through it.

  “What’s the number?” she asked as she pulled a cloth bag out of the pack and carried it over to the counter that ran along the back of the room. “All right, I’ll get back to you in a few minutes.”

  She tapped the vox to disconnect the call and opened the bag, spilling dozens of small metal tags onto the counter. She began sorting through the tags, checking the numbers on each one before setting it aside. When she found the one she wanted she smiled triumphantly. She scooped the rest of the tags back into the bag and sat down on the floor right where she was. She closed her eyes, holding the tag tightly in her closed fist. Before long she smiled again and opened her eyes.

  “Got it,” she said to Bobby, who grinned and held out a hand to help her up from the floor.

  “Good girl,” he said. “What way are we going?”

  “We don’t have to go anywhere,” Ellicia said. “I got a location on this one.”

  “Excellent!” Bobby praised her as she stood up. She tapped the vox and requested the Director. A few minutes later she disconnected the call.

  “He has a unit not far from the location right now so it won’t be long,” Ellicia said, sharing another grin with Bobby.

  Harlan was beginning to look a little disgruntled. “Either of you want to fill me in on what just happened here?” he asked.

  Ellicia turned to him in surprise, then turned pink with embarrassment. “I’m sorry Harlan,” she said. “I didn’t mea
n to be rude.”

  Harlan shrugged. “No problem, but would you mind filling me in?”

  “Of course not,” Ellicia replied. “As you know, my talent is finding things, but I have to have some connection to the object before I can find it. The problem is that if someone steals a shipment of drugs, or military weapons, there is no way for me to connect because those are manufactured goods. So, we came up with this idea. A number of tin tags are made, each one stamped twice with a number. They are then left alone for about three weeks, which, after a lot of testing, we have found to be just long enough. Then the tags are broken in half. I get one half, and the other half goes into certain types of shipments. It’s all very top secret of course, and only a few government affiliated companies use them so far, but it works. The Director just called with the number of a tag placed into a shipment of narcotics that was just stolen on the way to a hospital. I was able to find the shipment containing the tag by holding my half of the tag.”

  “That’s brilliant,” Harman said, impressed with the simplicity of the scheme. “Who thought of that?”

  “Ellicia, of course,” Bobby said proudly. “She was frustrated that she wasn't able to do more with her talent than help private collectors or museums when their things got stolen. She wanted to help with more important thefts.”

  Ellicia blushed again, but she ignored it as she returned the tag to the bag, and put the bag back in her pack. “I just wanted to be able to help more,” she said. “A lot of museums and libraries were destroyed in the Bolkin War, so the artifacts that remain of our history are important. But I wanted to be able to do more than that. Now I can.”

  “I gotta run, Ell,” Bobby said with a quick glance at his watch. “I’m going to be late for Jen’s party as it is.”

  “Sorry Bobby, I lost track of the time,” Ellicia said. “Tell Jen Happy Birthday for me, okay?”

  “I will,” Bobby said before grabbing up his own pack and heading for the door.