"Good. I want Ranos pistols and rifles for the folks I left behind. And for Hank," I nodded at him. "The kind that accepts their DNA and won't fire for anybody else. The kind that'll self-destruct if anybody messes with them to see how they work."
"I can arrange that," Lissa agreed grimly. "If Norian won't do it, I'll go to Ildevar myself."
* * *
"Don't let anyone else open these and pull them out of their protective sleeve," Kooper warned. "They've only been handled by robots up to this point."
I stared at the boxes and crates of weapons to be transported to Earth's past. We even had two rocket launchers, and I considered that Hank and Trajan might be the ones to handle those. The cost of the weapons was outrageous, but we needed them. I wasn't going to quibble over it.
"Thanks," I told Kooper.
"Just stay safe," he leaned down to kiss me. "You can send mindspeech, too, when you're not busy. Or drop in. I won't mind." He grinned.
"I'll consider it," I offered him a smile. "Gotta go. Thanks, Lissa." I gave her a hug before Hank and I folded away from Le-Ath Veronis, leaving part of my heart behind with Stellan, Kooper and three reptanoids.
* * *
Earth—past
Hank's Journal
I had no idea she'd ask for Ranos technology. I wasn't going to argue, however. The weapons would prove useful and the technology was safe. Keef certainly owed her, and I looked forward to teaching the others how to use the weapons.
Bill waited, too, for us to transport him to Kansas City. Something was going on in the area—it wasn't only the homeless missing this time. I couldn't get to the reason, and Breanne likely wouldn't either, which spelled Sirenali involvement. I'd gotten a brief message from Kifirin, too, after I'd sent him on a sensitive mission.
Years ago, Lissa, with assistance and a bit of a power loan from the Mighty Hand, sealed a void against time. The void in question housed the Khos'Mirai when he still lived. That seal remained unbroken, which meant the original Khos'Mirai was still dead. It didn't preclude the possibility that one of his clones might have been pulled away from death without Lissa's knowledge.
Many of our enemies outranked Lissa. Greatly. It would only take one Khos'Mirai clone to escape her notice in the past and our troubles would increase tenfold. Breanne might have read those things in Lissa, but since she may have read an inaccurate account of that debacle in her sister, she could possess faulty information.
"His name was Moxas," I said, the moment we landed in the huge compound kitchen in New Mexico. Moxas was Saxom's identical twin in every way except one; there could only be one naturally-born Khos'Mirai.
"Moxas?" Crates and boxes landed around us, crowding the kitchen and causing Bill and the others to rise from the table. Breanne looked up at me, expecting an accounting of my statement.
"Nothing, avilepha. We must show the others what we have for them, and then travel to Kansas City."
* * *
Breanne's Journal
He'd said his name was Moxas. I had no idea what that meant, and Hank was still as unreadable as he ever was. Regardless, we had an interested crowd the moment Hank explained Ranos technology. We even had weapons for Gavin and Charles, and I learned that both understood how to shoot. Who knew?
"Open them carefully, because once you touch, nobody else will be able to use these," Hank pulled his rifle from its crate and checked the charge. "They fire red blasts of power, and those will generally destroy whatever they hit, depending on the weapon and the size of the target."
"It only needs our touch to recognize our DNA?" Opal handled her new pistol, fingering the grip and trigger reverently.
"And it will destroy almost anything," Hank nodded. "Pistols work best for smaller targets, rifles for something bigger. You can bring down a huge building with a Ranos rocket launcher."
"If you shoot somebody, be ready for them to splatter everywhere," I warned. "These aren't for wounding or firing warning shots."
"What's the range?" Jayson examined his pistol carefully.
"Pistols accurate up to a hundred yards, rifles much farther, with the scope. Solar charged," Hank added. "No wall plugs needed. Just sunlight."
"I'll be damned," Bill whispered. "This is amazing."
"Like I said, if somebody else tries to use them, they won't work. Somebody tries to take them apart, they self-destruct. Probably taking the tampering idiot with them," Hank rumbled.
"Good to know," Charles grinned.
* * *
We had the whole upper floor of a hotel in Kansas City, Missouri. Some of the rooms were empty, but Bill had commandeered it, since it required an appropriate key card to get to the top floor. Only Bill's contingent now had that ability. Except for housekeeping and hotel employees, anyway.
The suite Hank and I shared opened on one side into Trajan's suite, and into Bill's on the other. Charles, Jayson, Kalenegar and Gavin occupied the rooms opposite ours. We'd left the corner suite for Opal, who liked the extra window space just fine.
Dalroy and Rhett were taking over the compound in New Mexico, and would be watching for Obediah Tanner, Winkler's and Bill's would-be assassin wrangler, to come home. Winkler planned to send an extra werewolf or two to help.
"We're scheduled to meet with some locals in two hours," Bill said, once we got luggage unloaded and stowed. "Let's have lunch first, before we figure out what they know."
"It's raining, baby," Hank pulled my arm through the sleeve of a sweater. "It's September outside," he reminded me. Kansas City in September was cooler during the day than New Mexico in September.
"Oh. Yeah." I let him guide my other arm into the opposite sweater sleeve.
"There." He straightened the shawl collar before pulling me into a hug. "I'm still getting used to the platinum hair," he breathed against my temple.
"Me, too," I mumbled against his chest. I was tired—after spending the night with Trajan. Werewolves seemed to be made of steel or something. Trajan almost bounced wherever he went today.
"You're getting some sleep tonight," Hank informed me.
"Good," I yawned.
* * *
Lunch was at a small bistro near the hotel that offered better vegetarian selections. We could have sat outside under an awning, but it was still raining and the temperature was in the low fifties.
"Veggie chili is good," I sighed, crunching into a cracker provided by our waiter.
"Can you tell us where you went, and where Kooper and Stellan are?" Jayson asked.
"No, but they're working on a similar project now."
"They're on another planet, working on a similar project," Hank said, lifting his iced tea glass and draining it.
"So other places are being attacked," Opal said, watching me carefully with her unblinking, dark eyes.
"Yeah." I thought of Reah, whom I'd only seen in passing. She had children. I knew she was the one to send after Song and Serenade. Those two women—their names made them sound so nice. Peaceful, even. They were anything but. They purchased pretty children—girls and boys, for next to nothing and then cruelly taught them to be sex slaves for pedophiles.
Hordace Cayetes was their best customer, but they had many on multiple worlds, in and outside both Alliances.
"What are you thinking about, sweetheart?" Bill brought me back to the present.
"Sadly, I was thinking about pedophiles and the scum of the worlds," I sighed, staring at my hands.
"Don't ask," Hank held up a hand to keep Bill from pursuing the subject.
* * *
Hank's Journal
She helped someone recently who was raised and trained as a sex slave, Hank sent mindspeech to Bill. Bree saw those images from the woman, according to Kooper and Stellan, and now that shit won't leave her alone.
What's going on? Trajan broke in on the conversation.
Almost before he was done, I heard from Jayson and Opal, too. I explained mentally what Breanne's statement meant as I cut into a slice of apple pie.
That happens here, or close enough, Opal snorted. Parents or grandparents sell their kids to brothels in some countries. It's sickening.
The worlds are in a terrible place, Kalenegar broke in. He'd sat quietly at the table, refusing to pretend to eat. At least he'd fed from the sunlight in New Mexico before traveling with us to Kansas City.
I get the feeling we're standing at a crossroads, Bill said.
We are, Kalenegar replied.
Chapter 9
Breanne's Journal
We sat around a long, boardroom table while an FBI agent explained that there'd been more than three hundred unexplained disappearances from Kansas, Missouri, Oklahoma and Arkansas in the past month.
"Many of them," Special Agent Quin Folsom explained, "are maintenance workers, plumbers, construction workers, electricians and such." He tapped a key on his laptop, which changed the image on the screen behind him. They'd broken down the missing into blocks of employment-related categories.
"So they're cherry-picking?" Trajan asked.
"It looks that way. They tend to disappear either on their way to work or going home afterward. People are starting to panic."
"They're building something," Bill sighed.
"Bill, do we have information on who built that church in the Dallas area?" I asked.
"I checked; all standard construction permits and a local company, but the list of legitimate employees doesn't match how fast that structure went up."
"No sign of where they're building?" Gavin broke in.
"Nowhere in this area. We have agents checking, but no building permits have been requested or filed in any of the affected states."
"Because they're hiding it, more than likely," Hank snorted. I was surprised that there was no smoke connected to his statement.
"And with the ones we're dealing with, it could be anywhere, or even in more than one place," I said. "Are people still disappearing? Have others come up missing elsewhere? What about foreign countries?"
"We're attempting to contact a few places, but let's face it, some countries are in such upheaval, nobody would realize something like this if a few disappeared here and there. We'll have to track this—or attempt to track it—by the types of skilled workers missing," Agent Folsom said.
"My concern is that evidence of any construction may be shielded," Kalenegar offered.
"What?" Agent Folsom's disbelief was evident as he turned toward Kal.
"He knows what he's talking about," Bill sighed. "Were you at the meeting in D.C.?"
"No, but I was briefed. I have a problem believing some of the reported events," he began.
"They're all true," Bill said. "We're not dealing with locals, for the most part."
"There really are chimeras and sirens?"
"Chimeras and Sirenali," Kalenegar corrected stiffly. I could tell he didn't appreciate anyone questioning his honesty. "In addition to other—races and such."
It's okay; he just doesn't know what to think. He's not used to anything other than humanoid, I sent to Kal. Well, it was time to see if I still pissed him off in any way.
I understand that, but this doubtfulness wastes time, which is in short supply, Kal replied.
My love, you look tired, filtered into my brain. I'd heard that before, and just as before, that unfamiliar mental voice didn't come again.
* * *
"What now?" Hank asked as we piled into the van to drive back to our hotel. Bill asked for a vehicle so we wouldn't attract attention by appearing and disappearing. We didn't need to be caught because somebody might be watching for such anomalies. At least Agent Folsom didn't have an obsession—I checked him and everybody else we met at the local FBI office.
"We'll need dinner eventually, and we need information," Bill grumbled. All of us were tired—we'd had a really long night rescuing Ross Gideon, and then I'd had to give up nearly half my crew for another mission on Frithia and other parts unknown.
We were stuck in rush-hour traffic getting away from the downtown area, so it took nearly an hour to get back to the hotel.
"I say room service and bed," Jayson suggested as we trooped past the front desk.
"Second," Opal raised a hand.
"I'm too tired to eat," I mumbled.
"I'll keep you awake long enough to eat," Hank sighed.
"Right." I was too tired to nod.
We rode the elevator in silence and Hank pulled out his key card to open the door. Ashe and Kay waited for us inside.
* * *
Ashe's Journal
Breanne looked as if she were ready to drop, and the one she had with her—it was Kifirin's superior, Li'Neruh Rath. He'd been there when Breanne was attacked by the General. Now I knew why—they were together.
She doesn't know, smoke filtered from Li'Neruh's nostrils as he gazed steadily at me with dark eyes and a deep frown. I'd prefer telling her myself, when the time is right.
Tread carefully, I returned. She's still pissed at me because I yelled at her.
That is of no consequence; she needs rest.
Kay needs Bree, I offered a mental sigh with my sending.
Kay can watch Breanne sleep, his mindspeech contained a growl. After she eats.
Look, I know she's tired, but just a few words for Kay while she's eating will do wonders, I pointed out.
I hope you're not suggesting that we stay in the same room, Li'Neruh snapped.
No, nothing of the kind, I began when Breanne took matters out of our hands and handled it herself.
* * *
Breanne's Journal
I could tell Kay was shaky, and as tired as I was, I didn't want things to get worse for her. "Kay, what's wrong?" I held out a hand to her.
"I feel really shaky," she hugged herself.
"There's no need for that. Come give me a hug," I offered, holding my arms open. She came immediately, so I used up what little strength I had to give her as much Love as I could.
* * *
"She's just worn out, sweetheart," I heard Ashe say when my eyes blinked open. "Bree's been through a lot."
"But nobody will tell me what that was," Kay grumped. "And I want to know. I love Bree. She's my friend. Don't you think I ought to know?"
"Kay," my voice sounded rough. I found myself lying on the king-sized bed that Hank intended to share with me. "Honey, you really don't need to hear all that. It's upsetting. For me and for you. Okay?"
"Will you tell me someday?"
"If you're ready for it. Kevis will have to say when that is."
"Fine. I feel better now. Can we stay? Can I help you with anything?"
"Bree," Hank settled on the bed beside me and stroked my face with a finger, "I ordered food for all of us. Do you feel up to sitting so we can eat?"
"Yeah. Will you help me up?"
"I'll let you lean against me," he offered.
"That'll be nice. Did you order a glass of milk for me?"
"I did, and a fruit and cheese plate, plus a salad. They're not big on vegetarian in the restaurant downstairs."
"No surprise," I sighed. "Did you get something for Kay and Mr. Grumpy, too?"
"If you mean Kay and Ashe, then yes, I also ordered for them—after they studied the menu."
"I wish we had a big house again, and Fes here to cook for us," I mumbled, closing my eyes when Hank pulled me against him.
"Baby, go back to sleep. I'll wake you when the food is here."
* * *
Kay's Journal
Nobody would tell me anything, but my guess was that Breanne had a terrible past, just as Kalia and I did, and I still hadn't had enough courage to read the book about her. I did and didn't want to know what it was about. Kalia's past was horrible enough, and I worried that her fears would take us over again, so I decided to let the subject go for now.
I felt bad, too, that I'd taken all of Bree's strength just to feel better—and I did feel better. I always did after she touched me and performed her magic. I was even beginning to feel better
about Ashe, too; he was always good to me and somehow, I knew he always would be.
Without Kalia's fears weighing me down, I was certainly warming up to Ashe. He hadn't attempted to kiss me or anything, but he'd touched my hands or my shoulders occasionally and always asked what I wanted or how I felt.
That's how we'd ended up where we were—on Earth in the past. He'd explained it once we arrived at the hotel; Bill described where he was in the past, and that's where Bree was as well.
"Is there anything we can do for her?" I whispered and tugged on Ashe's sleeve.
"Sweetheart, she needs rest. Lots of rest."
A knock sounded on the door, causing me to jump and Bree to wake with a terrified shriek.
* * *
Breanne's Journal
"Hank's here, baby," Hank kept me from jumping off the bed, I was so startled by the knock from room service. His cheek was pressed against mine and his arms were locked around me, as if he were afraid I'd disappear.
"I'm okay," I croaked, and revealed the lie by shivering against him. He answered by tightening his arms slightly and kissing my temple. Across the room, I heard Ashe rise to answer the door. He even tipped the waiter, which made me wonder about the exchange rate on Campiaan Alliance credits and U.S. dollars.
"Ready to eat?" Hank breathed against my hair.
"Yeah."
What followed was a bizarre sort of picnic on our bed. Ashe had a burger with fries, which made him smile and me shake my head. Hamburger restaurants didn't exist in either Alliance, shockingly enough.
He'd ordered a burger for Kay, too, because part of her hadn't had one in a long time, and the other part had never had one. Hank, on the other hand, ordered a steak with all the trimmings.
"Want this?" Hank offered his dinner roll to me. "It didn't touch the meat," he grinned.
"Do you have butter?" Both items were handed over. Hank rubbed my shoulders while I spread a pat of butter on half the roll and ate it.
"We'll find some protein drinks tomorrow," Hank promised after I finished as much of my food as I could.
"Protein drinks?" Kay blinked at me.
"I have a hard time getting enough protein," I replied.
"Gotcha," she smiled. Truly, when Kay/Kalia smiles, it is a wondrous event. I've never seen anyone so beautiful, and a smile from her was worth more than gold because it was so rare. With a sigh, I hoped Reah would be successful tracking Song and Serenade, because those two deserved to die.
Blood Love (God Wars Book 4) Page 13
