by C. D. Hersh
Sylvia gave them a saccharin smile. “I’m sure we’ll get on famously, Captain. If you don’t mind, I’d like to go over the cases with the detectives. Can we borrow your office?”
“We have a conference room,” Williams said.
“I like the atmosphere in this room, Captain.”
Sylvia gave him a pointed stare Alexi knew was meant to intimidate.
Williams rose. “If you insist.”
“I do.”
He cast a warning glance at Alexi and Rhys as he exited.
Rhys took his cues from Alexi, who played along as if she didn’t know Sylvia. Probably her cover-up to keep him safe. His mind wandered as Sylvia questioned them about the Pawling case then suddenly he remembered he had her business card in his wallet. Had she identified herself as Riley on the card? Digging in his back pocket, he got out his wallet and checked in the bill section for the business card the officer had given him at Baron’s murder scene.
Sylvia Riley, Homeland Security Investigations Officer.
She was playing that part straight. But why call herself Jordan to Alexi? And Eli knew her as Jordan. Maybe Riley was her married name.
“Are you listening, Detective Temple?” Sylvia asked.
“Sorry. I was trying to place where I’d seen you before.” He waved the business card in the air. “You were at a crime scene I visited.”
Alexi snatched the business card. “What crime scene?” she asked.
Sylvia reached for the business card, her fingers touching Alexi’s as the card passed between them. Rhys grasped Alexi’s arm to stop her and let go as a frission of energy flashed through him. Different than the sexual tension that usually flowed between them. His entire body tingled as if his nerve endings were awakening from Novocain.
Alexi stared at him, surprise clearly etched on her face. Sylvia wore the same surprised expression. Had they felt it, too? The business card fluttered to the floor between the two women.
The space around them seemed to shimmer with energy, like the hot backwash of a jet engine at takeoff. He took a step back and the energy cleared. The two women stared at him, transfixed.
He stared back, totally confused. What the heck had happened?
Alexi found her voice first. “What crime scene?” she asked again as she retrieved the card from the floor and handed it back to Rhys. Their fingers touched as he took the card, but no energy flowed between them, not even any sexual tension.
“I think we met at your uncle’s murder scene,” Sylvia said. “I noticed the police tape as I walked by and offered my help.”
Alexi pinned him with a glare. “You were at the crime scene without me?”
“Captain’s orders.”
Alexi’s eyes darkened.
“Did you expect me to disobey a direct order?”
“I expect my partner to keep me informed.”
“Detectives, detectives,” Sylvia muttered, like a mother soothing two fighting siblings. “Is there something going on between the two of you?”
Rhys stared at Sylvia in disbelief. If she was the shifter Alexi told him about, she knew damn well what was going on between them. Had been going on. For a split second, he remembered the face he’d seen in the hotel. The black hair, the almond-shaped eyes. It had been Sylvia, not Alexi. Shock reeled through him. Were Eli and Alexi right about him? Had he caused both women to shift with him?
She wagged her index finger at them. “Are you two doing the horizontal mambo? Because I don’t want relationships to get in the way of this investigation.”
“No,” he said at the same time Alexi said, “Yes.”
Sylvia’s gaze darted between the pair. “Which is it, yes or no?”
“Yes,” he said. He heard Alexi’s breath catch. “But I promise it won’t get in the way.”
Sylvia pinned Alexi with a stare. “Aren’t you the lucky one, Detective Jordan?”
There was something in her voice, and in the sidelong glance Sylvia gave him, that made him think he’d just dodged a bullet. He hoped that pardon extended to Alexi, too.
Chapter 40
“So what did the she-devil want?” Eli asked the question the second Alexi and Rhys cleared the house doorway.
“Rhys.” Alexi laid her keys on the hall table and went to the living room. Rhys and Eli trailed behind her.
“Stop being childish, Lexi,” Rhys said as he placed his Stetson on the back of the couch. “She didn’t make a move on me.” And after what he’d remembered there was no way he would ever get cozy with her.
Alexi gave a disgusted snort and crossed her arms over her chest. “Is something going on between you two?” she said, mimicking Sylvia’s tone of voice. “And you said ‘no’.” Disapproval settled on her features. “She was poking around to find out if you were available. You might as well have invited her into your bed.”
“I fixed it.”
“Making your answer ‘yes’, with no explanation, hardly qualifies.”
“Bairns,” Eli interjected. “Quit yer squabbling and tell me what happened. What did she want?”
“She wouldn’t reveal anything with Rhys there. I need to have a meeting with her.”
Rhys shook his head. “Not without me.”
Alexi braced her hands on her hips. “Quit playing hero, Rhys. You’ve made our relationship clear.”
He opened his mouth to respond then snapped it closed. No way to argue that. That he’d hurt her in the process pained him.
“Besides, it’s best if she doesn’t know you’re in on the secret.”
“Yeah, I get that.” Although he didn’t know how that gave them any advantage.
“The subject at hand ‘tis not aboot the two o’ ye,” Eli said, the frustration in his voice obvious. “So answer my question. Do ye ken what she really wants?”
“On the surface, she’s just talking Homeland Security stuff—homicide, thefts, sleeper cells—”
“Which makes no sense to me,” he said. “And there’s something else bothering me. How did a shifter get to be a Homeland Security official?”
“How did Alexi get tae be a cop?” Eli said. “We need vocations. We’re people, laddie, just like you.
“Not like me.”
“Aye, that I’d agree with. Yer different than most, in the normal world and our world.” He started to protest, and Eli cut him off. “Turning Stone members lead lives like everyone else. Shifters tend tae gravitate tae the jobs that wield more power. ‘Tis the nature o’ being leaders, which was our first and foremost destinies at the forming o’ the rings. We were dedicated as a Society tae protect the world. That hasn’t altered for those like Alexi and me.”
“So if they’ve got people in high positions like Homeland Security, where are your people?”
“I canna say, as ye’ve not made any commitment tae the Society.”
“You’re right. When this is over, I’m outta here.”
Eli shook his head.
“What?”
“Ye dinna want tae know, so I’ll not be saying it agin. Anything else happen?”
Should he mention he’d recognized Sylvia from his encounter with her in the hotel? That would probably make Lexi angry again and didn’t have any relevance to this. Besides, he didn’t want to lend more credence to the crazy notion he’d been responsible for causing the shift.
“Just cop stuff. Going over files.” He silently asked Lexi for confirmation.
She raised her hand to her mouth and tugged on her lower lip, worry drawing her eyebrows together. “I think Rhys pulled something from Sylvia and me.”
Eli’s eyes rounded. “By the Druid’s beard, he dinna make ye shift again, did he?”
“There’s no again, old man,” he said defensively.
Eli waved a dismissive hand at him. “What happened, lassie?”
“We all happened to touch each other at the same time and . . .” Her gaze searched Rhys’ face.
He stared back at Alexi. Apprehension glittered in her eyes. She�
�d noticed something, too. But why the hesitation?
“And what?” Eli stepped closer to where the pair stood. “Dinna keep me waiting, lassie.”
“Maybe you should tell him, Rhys.”
Eli stepped back and swung his gaze between them. His face darkened to a port wine color. “I dinna care who tells, but someone had better start talking soon.” The words roared out of him.
Rhys backed away from the elder man’s fury, so powerful he could almost feel its heat. “Calm down before you have a heart attack.” Eli growled at him and he hurried to explain. “Some kind of energy flowed between the three of us.”
“Describe it.” Eli spoke to Alexi. “Have ye ever felt it before?”
“Something similar whenever I touched Baron. Part of it was shifter sensing.”
“What’s that?” Rhys asked.
“Shifters can sense each other,” Alexi said. “The closer we get, the stronger the sensation. Especially if we are shifted.”
“But you weren’t shifted. Does that mean she was?”
“No. I’m certain she was in her natural form. But we touched, and that creates a different kind of sensation.”
“Like pins and needles from Novocain?” Rhys asked.
Eli swung around and took hold of Rhys’ arm then touched Alexi. “Like this?” he asked Rhys.
The same sensation he’d felt in the office rushed through him, setting his nerves on edge. But this seemed slightly different, less threatening. He closed the circle by grasping Alexi’s other arm. The voltage running through them amplified. The air inside their circle shimmered visibly. Rippling prisms of light leapt off Rhys like sound waves.
Eli’s face whitened.
Alexi gasped and broke the connection.
Rhys stumbled backward, suddenly drained. “What happened?”
Eli collapsed against the wall, noticeably shaken. “Mother of Stonehenge! Was it like this with her?”
“Not this powerful. But the air around Rhys shimmered.”
“Did she sense it?” Eli asked.
Alexi nodded. “I’d bet my life on it.”
“No need for that,” Eli replied. “Unless I miss my guess, he just bet his.”
“What are you talking about?” He’d recovered enough to be irritated with the old man’s riddles.
“Ye pulled the power from our rings and nearly from our verra beings,” Eli said. “Were ye trying tae do it?”
“I don’t even know what it is,” he said. And if Alexi’s magic were involved, no way would he do it on purpose.
Eli studied him, his forehead creased into deep furrows and his eyes filled with bewilderment. “Who are ye, laddie, that ye can do such a thing? And without yer own ring. In all my years searching for a Promised One, I’ve never heard o’ such a thing.”
A bubble of anger stirred inside Rhys’ chest then burst to the surface. The incident at the precinct had shaken him, made him uncertain, and he hated being uncertain.
“No more Promised One crap,” he said between gritted teeth. “I don’t know what happened here, or at the office, but if you think I’m going to fall into your scheme because of some . . .” Some, what? He couldn’t explain it, but he knew he wasn’t the cause. “Some lousy trick you’re playing, you’re wrong.”
“‘Tis no trick, laddie. And whether ye like it or not, she knows and she’ll not be letting you forget. Mark my words.”
“You fill him in, Lexi. I’ve gotta get out of here.” He picked up his hat from the back of the couch and stormed out of the house.
Alexi followed Rhys to the door, jumping when he slammed it shut. “That went great,” she muttered. “Everything I do or say just drives him farther away.”
“Or draws him closer.”
“How can you say that? He’s just as resistant to the idea now as he was when he found out.”
“He’s not a goose sitting at the door of the fox’s lair. When he accepts the danger, he’ll move the right way.”
“I hope that happens before one of us gets killed.”
“Ye’ll not be dying any time soon, lassie. I’m at yer back.
“But who’s at his?”
“We are for the time being, unless yer changing yer mind. And we’ll have to be even more diligent after what I just experienced.” He moved toward the kitchen. “I’m starving, lass. Can we get a wee bite tae eat?”
She followed him into the kitchen. “Speaking of that, what did just happen?”
“I’m at a bit o’ a loss tae say. The shifter sensing is common enough, but the other . . . all the power he’s manifesting . . .”
“Doesn’t that prove he’s really meant to be the Promised One instead of me?”
“Not necessarily. Ye do have the ability tae see the auras which allows ye tae glimpse the difference between good and bad. That, in itself, isnae something the ordinary shifter, or many o’ the potential Promised Ones I’ve known, can do even if they touch another.” He stopped and stared at her. “I canna remember if I asked ye, could ye sense the evil in Sylvia when ye touched her?”
“I don’t think so, but I already had an opinion of her. That could have colored anything I sensed.”
Eli opened the refrigerator door and selected sandwich fixings. “‘Tis possible.”
Alexi set a loaf of bread, two plates, silverware, and napkins on the table. “All that power had to come from somewhere. Don’t you have any ideas?”
Eli sat down at the table and started making a sandwich. “There is a legend I remember from my childhood about a potential Promised One who had great powers.”
“Power like Rhys showed?”
Eli stopped slathering mayonnaise on his bread, holding the knife airborne like a conductor’s baton. He scrunched his eyes closed. “‘Tis been a while since the hearing o’ the story. Give me a minute tae think.”
Anxiously, she took a seat, willing Eli to remember. Baron had not told her much about Turning Stone history or legends.
The knife swirled in the air and Eli opened his eyes. “Now I remember. He came tae a verra bad end. His name was Tynan. My father, who spun the legend, called him Ty.” Eli paused as he piled lunchmeat on his sandwich.
“Go on.”
“Patience, lassie, patience.” Eli topped the sandwich with cheese and bread then took a huge bite. His jaws worked in slow motion as he chewed and swallowed.
Couldn’t he chew any faster? He started to take another bite, but she tugged his arm down. “Story. Now.”
Eli laid his sandwich down. “Ty came into his power at the age o’ nine.”
“Nine? That seems awful early.”
“In the beginning o’ the rings, the potential Promised Ones came early, if they came at all. Ty was born in the latter part of the third century. He came into his power in the summer of 306 A.D. June 3 on the Julian calendar.”
“What powers did he have?”
“He could hold his alter ego and shift with ease, recognize auras o’ shifters who wore the rings, but he couldnae obtain the last two levels o’ a Promised One. In spite o’ this, he rose tae leadership, backed by his mother, for he had something no other possessed. They called it the “black touch”, and those who knew him thought it akin tae the evil eye, for he could draw the verra essence o’ yer being outta yer body. He was a feared shifter led by an evil woman, and for a period o’ time no one dared cross him. An uneasy sort o’ peace came on the land, the kind caused by great fear and marked by bleakness. His family forbid the seeking o’ new Promised Ones, threatening death tae any who tried. Those who did were put tae death at the hand o’ the boy or slaughtered brutally, and we were plunged intae a verra dark chapter in our history.”
“What happened?”
“One day a new Keeper o’ the Stone was named and he decided twas time tae set things right, so he up and killed Tynan and his family—with the verra sword I carry—restoring balance again.”
“No grandiose rescue or battles? It was over just like that?”
; “Aye. Twas.”
“Not much of a legend, if you ask me.”
“More of lesson, mayhap.”
“How so?”
“It only takes one man tae alter a destiny.”
“Rhys?”
“Or one woman.”
“I’d rather not do it alone.”
“If the laddie has the power I think he has, and we canna sway him our way, ye’ll have tae do more than go it alone.”
A chill ran over Alexi at the ominous tone of Eli’s voice. “You’re not suggesting that I . . .” She couldn’t even bring herself to voice the horrible thought.
“Aye, lassie, I am, and if he sways the wrong way, and ye canna do it, I’ll take my own sword up agin him.”
Rhys found his way back to the precinct on autopilot, his mind so full of questions that he didn’t even know he hadn’t been paying attention to the road until he shut off the truck’s engine.
He sat in the parking lot for a couple of minutes debating on going inside or heading home. Nothing waited for him back at the apartment. Here, he could at least go over case files and try to figure out reasonable answers to Baron’s unanswerable murder questions. He put the keys into his pocket after beeping the lock. As he entered the office, he spotted Sylvia and spun on his heel to leave.
“Detective Temple,” Sylvia called out. “I’m glad you’re back. I’ve got some questions.”
He swerved around toward her. “Ms. Riley, I thought you’d be gone by now.”
She crooked her index finger at him. He walked slowly to the desk where she sat. Stacks of folders lay in the in baskets. Case files, plastered with sticky notes filled with scribbled comments, covered the desktop. A paper tent, with Sylvia’s name neatly printed on it in bold purple marker, sat on the front edge announcing her territorial claim on the space.
Rhys tapped the makeshift nameplate, knocking it over. “I see you’re settling in.” She tapped the empty spot where the paper tent had been. He put it back on the desk.
“Sylvia,” she said. “Call me Sylvia. Do you mind if I call you Rhys?”
“Actually, I do. My momma, who was a stickler for manners, taught me first names were for special friends, not acquaintances, and I barely know you, Ms. Riley. Besides, it’s more professional that way.”
