Invasion of Justice (Shadows of Justice)

by Regan Black

  He felt the men move closer, intent on prying him away. He shoved them back and swore, then did the only thing he could think of–he scooped Petra into his arms.

  Oh, good God. The rush was beyond bizarre, but he could feel her soul out here somewhere–could almost hear her thinking at a steady sixty beats per minute. Gideon let his heart lead him to her.

  * * *

  Petra sensed Gideon's extreme frustration with her and with the situation, but she was too far away to soothe him. In the moments following Kristoff's demise, she'd located the actual map box.

  Now, enjoying the view of El Deir from the facing cliff, she did her best to send the images on the map to her brother, along with her father's Smart-loc notes. Maybe once he was released or escaped on his own, Nathan could finish what she'd started.

  The thought of Nathan getting to know Jaden made her smile and gave her hope. Hope she would cling to as she wandered and waited for the inevitable resolution to her detachment. It wasn't so bad here, even apart from it all like this. She could appreciate the peaceful assurance she'd found in her dreams and flights to this city. Surely it would sustain her until someone found a way to pull her back.

  "So you're just giving up?" Gideon's voice soared through the rose-red valley.

  She felt the tears in her soul, though they couldn't manifest themselves in her present form. She should've known he'd be stubborn enough to disregard the rules and touch her body. Petra summoned all the arrogance she could manage. "I'm actually contemplating all the reasons to hope."

  "Oh, drop the act and come home."

  "Sit and enjoy a sunset for once," she said, matching the bark of his order.

  "He bruised the hell out of your arm."

  "So I'm sure you killed him."

  "He turned to ash before I got the chance."

  "Poor Gideon." She laughed at his unmistakable disappointment. "He's not gone like Albertson. If you'd followed the play you would've had another shot at him."

  "Then give me one. Take me home."

  "I'm severed." The tears clogged her throat now, strangling her voice. "All you've done is follow me into the abyss."

  "I can't let you have all the fun." He stood, jumped off the cliff, and floated back up, to hover at eye level. "I see why you like this. Bring me back sometime. For now let's go home."

  She shook her head. "It's too far and I'm too weak."

  "You were strong enough to tackle Kristoff single handed. Your journals claim 'far' is only a state of mind. I followed my heart against all practical judgment and I found you. You're not lost. You're as close as you want to be, Petra."

  His silence forced her to look at him, to look into him. "You read my journals?"

  "Call it research. You were my assignment," he said with a careless shrug. "Come on, Petra. Don't you want to be again? With me?"

  She wanted to leap into his outstretched arms, to reclaim everything. She held back. "Gideon, he's so dark, so evil and he's not gone like Albertson. I can still sense Kristoff. I can't and I won't risk you or anyone else." How could she make him understand what she didn't even have words for? "He's on the verge of discovering immortality, and worse." She fumbled for an explanation. "This isn't close to done." She saw Gideon spark at the challenge. The man had no sense.

  "Then neither are we." He enveloped her, prodding her to move, to try. "How close are we, Pet?"

  "You're such a jerk."

  "That's my girl."

  "I'm not your girl. You're not even trying to get this. He may still be linked with me. We don't know how he did what he did in the first place. I'm a bigger risk now than ever before."

  "You're a whiner."

  "Well, you're a fool and a skeptic," she snapped.

  "Maybe. Look around. We're home."

  His mouth fused to hers in a demanding kiss that left no doubt about his commitment or desire. Or the fact that her body and soul were once again cohabitating.

  Petra heard celebratory shouts amid the artistry of Mozart and found herself in Gideon's lap, surrounded by familiar faces.

  "Oh, thank God!" Jaden fell to her knees and hugged both of them. "Thank you, too, Gideon." She kissed him on the cheek and then ran shaky fingers over Petra's bruised arm. "You'll be okay?"

  Petra only nodded. Her lungs ached with her first deep breath in too long.

  Kincaid pitched his voice above the chatter filling the room. "Simon's in custody, Petra. We've got him cold on several slayings, including General Hawthorne's. You need to tell me immediately if he starts bragging in your dreams again."

  "Yes, sir." Relief, pure and simple filled her. Her brother would be cleared and released from that horrible prison. "What about his assignment?" she asked the Commandant.

  The older man gave her a half smile. "We'll work from whatever he's already found. This young man and I," he patted Quinn on the back, "have already started unraveling some of Kristoff's records. We'll round up his private army in no time."

  Petra returned her full attention to Gideon. "How did you manage to save me?" Petra voiced the question they all wanted answered.

  Gideon stared down at her, his warm brown eyes intense and his aura quivering with purpose. "I didn't do anything but hold on. Tight."

  She snuggled into his chest and let his heartbeat comfort her. "No, I think you did much more. You accepted the unacceptable. You met me as I am." She lifted her gaze to his. "I suppose you'll want to let go now?"

  "I'm not even close to done with you."

  She rolled her eyes. You just love a challenge.

  No, Pet. I just love you.

  The words were in her head and heart simultaneously and just that quickly Petra knew, whatever changes the future brought, with Gideon as her anchor, she'd never be lost again.

  The End

  Bonus Short Story

  Dream Works

  Chicago 2099

  Katie Murphy dozed, chin in her hands while a vigorous grammar discussion floated around her.

  "Miss Murphy." The teacher's sharp voice cut into her nap. "If you'd care to join us perhaps you could repair the errors in sentence three."

  Katie raised her head, blinked, rattled off the corrections, and resumed her nap. It was the only sleep she'd been getting lately and she needed every possible minute. Besides, she'd completed the assignment in record time, if the teacher had bothered to check her monitor.

  "Well, done." Surprise and not a little displeasure colored the teacher's voice.

  Katie didn't care. She couldn't. It was all so stupid. Here they were on the verge of a fresh century and her dad was glued tight to 'retro' school. All her real friends were allowed to attend the virtual classrooms. With a sigh, Katie tried to let it go and create happier daydreams.

  Here in school, sleep was easier to come by than at home in her bed. She assumed it had to do with the background noises being monotonous and safe during class time versus the way too oppressive quiet filling her room at night. She'd even tried sleeping with her ear buds tuned to classical symphonies, but nothing subdued the voice in her dreams pleading with her to return to the home she'd known before Cleveland. The school chime rang and she shuffled along with her classmates to their next class across the hall.

  She was just getting into the real peace of her catnap in Biology when a stern voice barked her name again. She jerked awake: her father, known to all simply as Cleveland,

  filled the space. A rare scowl clouded his face.

  She jumped to her feet, worry kicking at her heart. "What happened?"

  He shook his head, glanced to the teacher. "If you'll excuse us?"

  The shorter man nodded and shooed them away, eager to be done with the interruption.

  "Something's happened," she said, trying to draw it out of him when they were in the deserted hallway.

  He just grunted.

  "I'm in trouble?" For napping in class? Impossible. Of the Dads she knew, Cleveland was the sanest and most involved. She might be frustrated, but she'd seen enough
to know he really was the best, despite his antiquated opinions on education.

  "This is the best school in the area. One of the best in the country. And you sleep through class. Often?" He pushed open the door and nudged her out into a hot day more suited to summer than mid-spring. She assigned the school a bonus point for maintaining a perfect

  climate.

  "Not often. Almost never," she answered when he was beside her again. Only when she was plagued by weird messages she didn't want to hear. She perked up a little, recognizing the classic 1957 Chevy dominating the no parking zone. The lovingly restored car with its bright yellow paint job couldn't help but jog her into a happier, more awake mood.

  "What's gotten into you?" he asked, stalking toward the car. "The principal calls asking questions about changes in your friends, habits or home life and I'm left gaping like a fish out of water."

  "So I am in trouble," she muttered. Great. Trouble and total lack of sleep were a bad combination.

  "Yes! You think you shouldn't be in trouble? I've got nothing to tell him, except I'll pick you up and get to the bottom of it."

  "I'm making straight As."

  "Which isn't the only point, young lady." That tone with that phrase was a better warning than anything else.

  "Look, I know. I do get it." She tried to think of a way to appease him. The last thing she wanted was a confrontation.

  "You've fought me since day one on this school."

  "You can go as fast as you like in Virtual school," she said, trying to interrupt the pending lecture.

  "And never learn to interface with humans. It matters," he added before she could disagree. " You'd probably get accelerated at this school, if you'd stay awake."

  "I told you falling asleep isn't the norm." She slumped down on the seat, arms crossed, digging her thumbnail into her flesh in a last attempt to keep her eyes open. The hum of

  the car's engine, the cool air blowing at her from the vents, it was almost as safe, almost as calming as a grammar lesson.

  "Katie? Sweetness, wake up."

  She resisted. She was in a dream or maybe a memory, enjoying the replay of a happier time. She curled into herself, embraced the hope that the dream was real.

  A weary sigh and quiet grumbling preceded the, warm embrace scooping her from the car. Cleveland. In her sleep, her body recognized safety and gave in to its desperate need for rest.

  * * *

  "She just slumped…and then nothing." Cleveland paced across the room, feeling caged and helpless. "Should I call the doctor?"

  Petra Neiman Callahan, the sister of his best friend Jaden Michaels, knelt near Katie's head, her hand tracing the smooth expanse of his daughter's forehead and cheek.

  Coming to the empath had seemed like a good idea earlier. He knew Katie was hiding something from him, something that was changing her, and he trusted Petra to uncover it.

  Now Cleveland wasn't sure Petra's talent for siphoning emotions and unraveling memories would be enough. Maybe Katie needed medication or a sleep study or –

  "Relax," Petra soothed, interrupting his internal tirade.

  "She's just deeply asleep."

  It looked more like a coma. "She's dead to the world," he snapped, instantly regretting the word choice.

  "The dark circles are a clue that she hasn't been resting well."

  "She was sleeping just fine in class when I picked her up."

  "Have you heard her having any nightmares? Sleepwalking?"

  "No. To both. She hasn't mentioned anything either."

  Petra hummed, leaving Cleveland to analyze the sound for any significance. "Why won't she talk to me? We've never had secrets."

  Petra made that same annoying hum, her eyes never leaving Katie's face. "Does Quinn know anything?"

  "About what?" Cleveland was caught in Petra's oddly intense gaze, feeling the futility of playing stupid. He shook his head. "She hasn't said anything to her brother." He'd

  already done a thorough interrogation.

  "Would she talk to Leigh?"

  It chafed Cleveland to think his daughter–adoption didn't make her any less his–would confide in anyone other than him. But after Quinn, he'd also quizzed his new wife, to

  no avail. "No. Neither of them has Katie's confidence on this."

  "Poor baby. Keeping it locked up is becoming too much for her."

  Cleveland scrubbed at his face, barely leashed the need to shriek at the injustices of life. "I'm right here for her every day. She knows she can talk to me."

  "She's fifteen," Petra said with the assured serenity of a

  woman who's oldest wasn't yet three. "It's natural to clam up at this age."

  "It's not natural to shut down."

  "Mmm."

  "Stop that," Cleveland roared.

  "Shouting at me won't wake her," Petra chided. Getting to her feet she adjusted the light blanket over Katie's shoulders and indicated they should leave the room. When they were both settled in Petra's business office, she set her gaze on him once more.

  "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were reading my mind."

  "Not at all. Just your body language." She smiled in her too-soothing way.

  It made him grind his teeth. "What's going on with her?"

  "I don't know yet. Whatever it is, is locked pretty deep inside. The only thing on the surface at the moment is an overwhelming relief."

  "From what?"

  She shrugged. "Chemistry equations, maybe? Has anything changed–other than the calls about her falling asleep in class?"

  "No. And still she makes straight A's. You know how tough that school is?"

  "The school's reputation is widely known."

  Cleveland opened his mouth, ready to talk about anything other than whatever was plaguing his daughter. "I chose–"

  Petra raised a hand, her smile gone. "Do you know of anything new–good or bad–in her world? Any awards, projects or other stressors?"

  "No." Cleveland's fingers danced lightly on the arms of the chair. His hands itched to play with a delicate music box at the corner of her desk. It would take only a momentary

  distraction and he could walk out with it.

  "If planning a petty theft calms you, that's fine, but you won't really take it, right?"

  His eyes met hers. He laughed at himself, the fist gripping his heart easing a bit. "Of course not. I never rip from friends. You really are damned perceptive."

  "It's a gift," she joked, then her face grew somber again.

  "Leave her with me. She'll be safe and we'll figure it out." Petra stood. "If Quinn happens to come to you with any insights, please let me know immediately."

  Cleveland obediently followed Petra to the door, hating to leave Katie behind without first talking with her, yet knowing it was for the best. "Petra–whatever she needs…"

  "She'll have. You're a wonderful father; she knows that."

  Cleveland glanced back at the door blocking Katie from his view, then at the only person with a chance of helping her. Blowing Petra a kiss so he wouldn't shock her empathic

  senses with actual contact, he said goodbye.

  * * *

  Petra let Katie sleep where Cleveland had settled her on the couch. She'd used a bit of her talent to ease the smothering tension and give the girl some real rest, but she hadn't gone deep enough to get to the core of the trouble. She did a little research while she waited for Katie to wake up on her own, poking through the girl's history according to Cleveland. She'd known where he'd found the children on the street, years ago and she'd watched them thrive under Cleveland's care. She couldn't pinpoint anything that would be a catalyst for such a drastic change in Katie.

  She glanced up, smiling at the door just as her husband Gideon opened it. The picture he made was wonderful and she gave a lovesick sigh, laughing at herself.

  "Hi honey, you're not home," he said, his concerned gaze sliding over her, then her office.

  "I'm doing a favor for Cleveland."

 
Gideon nodded. "It's not too much?" He hovered between the door and her desk, respectful of her particularly extreme need for space when she was working.

  She gained her feet and walked into his arms, knowing a physical offering was the best way to convince him she was okay.

  Her ability to experience the memories and feelings of others at the slightest touch had overwhelmed her on a personal level until she'd met Gideon. With him, she enjoyed

  being herself fully and completely.

  Hearing Katie stir in the other room, she eased out of his arms. "I'll need to stay here with her." She crossed the room, opening what appeared to be a closet, revealing a narrow counter Gideon had built for her, complete with a twentieth century stove top and teakettle so she could boil water the old-fashioned way. "You can handle things at

  home?"

  "Of course." He puffed out his chest. "You promise not to overdo it?"

  Petra promised, smothering a smile at his ever protective nature. He'd been her only saving anchor years ago when she'd nearly lost her mind and her life during a case.

  He still insisted on being close by whenever he perceived any risk to her. As close as they were, even Gideon couldn't truly grasp the working of her empathic talents, only that it could exhaust her energy or trap her mind in an abyss if she wasn't

  careful. She offered several more assurances, grateful to be so well-loved, before he agreed to go.

  When the kettle whistled, she carried the tea tray in to

  Katie.

  "Hi." The girl was sitting up, trying to get her bearings.

  "Hi back. How was your nap?"

  "A lot less interrupted than the earlier ones."

  "Wonderful."

  "I'm fine. Really. Dad shouldn't have wasted your time."

  Petra urged a cup into Katie's hands, then stirred a generous drop of honey into her own tea. "Why would you be a waste of my time?"

  "I'm just having some nightmares. It'll pass."

  "Did you tell him that?"

  The look she leveled at Petra was nearly comical. She obviously didn't believe Petra knew anything about dads and daughters.