Prodigal Son

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Prodigal Son Page 24

by Debra Mullins


  “It wasn’t like that.” But even as he said it, he realized the truth. Yes, it was.

  Her next words came like bullets, fast and hard. “You went haring into danger, causing injury and death. That’s bad enough, and maybe things would have smoothed out eventually if you’d stuck around. But you caused all this chaos, then just left, with your brother in the hospital and your parents having to make explanations and reparations on your behalf. Did it occur to you how all this would affect them? I’m sure they were worried about your brother and maybe even you, too, since apparently they had no idea where you were or what had happened to you. My God, Rafe, what were you thinking?”

  “I was thinking I was dangerous! Damn it, I got one man killed and nearly did the same to my brother.” He turned away from her, swiping his hands over his face. “Do you have any idea how that made me feel? What if it happened again? I had to get as far away from them as I could, as fast as I could. I had to learn control—before someone else died.”

  Her silence weighed on the room like a heavy wool blanket in August. “You have to fix this,” she said finally, her voice soft.

  He turned to face her. “I don’t know how.”

  “You need to figure it out. This is your family, Rafe. You can’t take them for granted.” She stepped closer, her expression intent. “Do whatever you have to do, no matter how uncomfortable or demeaning it might feel, to make them understand that you are truly sorry for what you did.”

  “I am sorry. Damn it, I went away to protect them.”

  “I guess you need to tell them that.” She gave him a small smile. “You mind readers need to get used to verbalizing things like the rest of us mortals. I think you’re all spoiled.”

  “We can’t read each other, except for Dar. Makes things awkward sometimes. Confusing.”

  This time she chuckled. “Welcome to the human condition. Normal people have to deal with that all the time.”

  “I don’t know how you do it.”

  She shrugged. “We have no choice, so we deal. And back when all this happened, maybe you felt you had no choice either, to do what you did. But you’re older now, and you need to start dealing with this. It’s been too long.”

  “There’s more.” He longed to have her arms around him again but stayed where he was. “All my life I thought my ancestor was the only person to escape Atlantis. Today Gray told me I was wrong, that there are lots of us. And not just Seers. There are other kinds of people with other kinds of abilities.”

  “Gray,” she said. “Gray is like you?”

  He nodded. “Apparently there’s a bunch of Atlanteans who hate Seers, want to see us dead. I just found this out today. My parents confirmed it.”

  She frowned. “I thought they had told you that your ancestor was the only one to escape.”

  “They did. They lied. We’ve been in danger all our lives—they knew it—but they never told us. Not even when we were old enough to defend ourselves.”

  “Oh, Rafe.” She let out a gentle sigh. “They love you. I don’t need psychic abilities to see that. I think you and your parents need to sit down and talk all this out. Make them see your side. And you try to see theirs.”

  “You inspire me to fix things. I want to. I do.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I just don’t know where to start.”

  “You could start with ‘I’m sorry.’ Then go from there and listen to their side.”

  “You make it sound easy.”

  “Admitting you made a mistake is never easy. Maybe your mom is feeling that right now.” She came toward him, a calm force of encouragement soothing his battered emotions. “That you want to fix it at all is a step in the right direction.”

  “What if they don’t forgive me? What if I can’t forgive them?” The words slipped from his lips before he could stop them, stripping him bare before her all-too-perceptive gaze.

  A smile quirked one side of her mouth. “They love you, Rafe, and you love them. Even I can see that, and I’m an outsider.”

  “You’re not an outsider.” He pulled her into his arms, staring into her eyes, overwhelmed by the force of his own words. “You’re inside me, Cara. I fought against it, I tried to resist it, but somehow you’re inside me.” He rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes so he wouldn’t know if she lied. He needed the lie. “Why did you tell my family we wanted one room? You said you weren’t sure if you wanted us to keep sleeping together.”

  “That’s still true. But the way everyone was ganging up on you, I thought you needed someone on your side. You’re a good man, Rafe, not the monster you seem to think you are. Whatever control problem you have with your power, I have faith you’ll master it.” She pulled back, her expression serious. “I saw your Hunter, and you didn’t hurt me. You saved my life. That gets you big points in my book.”

  Truth. Not pity. He nearly staggered from the relief of it. “So you’re sleeping in my bed because of gratitude?”

  “No, I’m sleeping in your room to show solidarity. A lot’s happened, Rafe, and I have a lot to process. I haven’t decided any more than that.” She stepped out of his arms. “Now I’ve got to get in the shower or we’ll never get to dinner. And I’m starved.”

  “Okay.” He stood there, empty arms dangling at his sides, and watched as she retrieved Tessa’s clothes from the bed and headed for the bathroom. She was sharing his room to take his side. He didn’t have the heart to remind her that in a family of psychics—one of them an empath—there was no fooling anyone. He wanted her with him too badly. “Cara.”

  She paused in the doorway and looked back at him.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  She gave him one of her sunny smiles, chasing the shadows from his soul. “Any time.”

  She went into the bathroom and closed the door, leaving him alone with the terrible truth he had only just acknowledged himself.

  He was in love with her.

  “Ah hell.” He rubbed his face with both hands and sank down on the bed to wait for his turn in the shower.

  * * *

  Cara retreated to the privacy of the bathroom, her heart aching for Rafe. Since she’d met him, she could tell he had some demons haunting him, and now she knew what they were. When she’d decided to go to bed with him, she’d wanted adventure, and boy, had she gotten more than she’d bargained for! Psychic abilities and energy crystals and transformations into … whatever. Yet at the heart of it, he was just a guy who’d made a huge mistake, and his family hadn’t forgiven him for it. Heck, he hadn’t forgiven himself.

  She stripped off her dirty clothing, grimacing at the sand that fell from the garments and sprinkled across the pristine marble floor of the spacious bathroom. Rafe’s old room looked like a luxury suite in a high-priced hotel, complete with a huge bed and a balcony overlooking the stunning Arizona landscape. And the palace that passed for a bathroom … She doubted the Romans had had such luxury. Gleaming black tile shone against ivory porcelain with fluffy white bath towels, gold-accented fixtures and floor-to-ceiling mirrors. She grimaced at her reflection; she really did look like she’d lost a battle with a sand heap.

  She had her choice of a multi-head shower or a deep spa tub. In the interest of time, she selected the shower. Throwing her bra in the pile, she rinsed her panties in the sink. She had no other underwear, but she could wash the delicate nylon with soap and water and dry it with the hair dryer so she could wear them again. The plan took minutes and worked perfectly, and she draped the mostly dry undergarment over the rack shared by the thick, cream-colored towels.

  She picked up her clothing and started to fold it. As she shook out her shorts, something fell out of her pocket and fluttered to the floor. Slowly she bent and picked it up. It was a photograph, one she’d been carrying with her since she’d found it on the fridge in Danny’s apartment. She’d been looking at it that morning and had shoved it in her pocket when they’d stopped for lunch—and thank God she had, otherwise it would be toast like everything else sh
e owned.

  Danny smiled at her from the photo, giving a thumbs-up to the camera. Beside him was a guy she didn’t know, and the two of them stood in front of a convenience store called Winner’s Circle, each holding one end of a single lottery ticket.

  How many times had she seen that surefire grin on Danny’s face? That eternal optimism that this time was the big payoff he’d been waiting for his whole life?

  Her eyes stung, flooding with moisture before she could stop it. Her throat clogged. She choked a sob, covered her mouth and fell back against the cool black tile, knocking over a shiny black tissue dispenser sitting on the edge of the vanity. Would she ever see Danny again? What would she do if the people who had been chasing them found him first?

  She couldn’t lose him. She couldn’t face the rest of her life alone. And her only chance of finding him was a psychic bounty hunter with demons he couldn’t control.

  Rafe knocked on the door. “Cara, you all right in there? I thought I heard something.”

  She picked up the fallen dispenser and grabbed a tissue to wipe her face. “I’m fine,” she called back, hoping her voice sounded normal. “I’ll be out in a couple of minutes.”

  “Okay. Let me know if you need anything.”

  “I will.”

  Cara set Danny’s photo on the vanity and got into the shower, flipping the faucets on full blast. The blessedly hot water poured down on her, wiping away the grime of the day.

  And the tears that continued to trickle down her cheeks.

  * * *

  Night had fallen by the time Adrian got back to the Mesopotamian. He’d checked in with the staff, then made his way to Jain Criten’s penthouse suite. He didn’t have to wait long before Criten and his entourage returned from their evening adventures. The stunned expression on the foreign president’s face when he entered his suite and noticed Adrian waiting for him, was worth the two hours he’d been cooling his heels.

  “You.” Criten stopped right inside the door, and his two security guards rushed forward.

  Adrian stood and murmured a threat in the Atlantean language. The two guards stopped cold, then glanced at their boss in uncertainty.

  Criten came toward him, casting a disgusted look at his security detail. “So,” he said. “A surprise. Mr. Gray, is it not?”

  “That’s correct. I’m the head of security for the Mesopotamian.”

  “I know who you are.” Criten dismissed his bodyguards with a wave of his hand. The two men took up sentry duty close to the door, and Criten sat down on the comfortable leather sectional. “What can I do for you, Mr. Gray?”

  “It’s what I can do for you.”

  “Indeed?” Criten leaned back, crossing one leg across the other, stretching his arms across the top of the couch.

  “I came to return something of yours.”

  “You intrigue me, Mr. Gray. I don’t recall losing anything. Are you certain it’s mine?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “How hospitable of the head of security to take the time to return missing items. Show me. Don’t keep me in suspense.” Criten smiled, his teeth white in his tanned face.

  Adrian unclipped his radio from his belt. “Control, this is Gray. Peterson, bring them.”

  “Got it, boss,” came the hiss of the reply.

  “Very cryptic,” Criten said as Adrian put his radio back on his belt. “You know, you remind me of someone. Have we met?”

  “Maybe a long time ago.” A knock came at the door.

  “That was quick,” Criten said. He caught the eye of one of his bodyguards and jerked his head toward the door. The guard checked the peephole, then frowned at Criten. “It’s hotel security.”

  “Well, let him in,” Criten said.

  The bodyguard frowned as he opened the door to reveal Peterson standing in the hallway. The security guard’s worried expression eased as he saw Adrian. “Here you go, boss.”

  “Thanks, Peterson. I’ve got this.”

  Peterson nodded, then shoved two men through the doorway, one of them stumbling into Criten’s bodyguard.

  “Evan!” The bodyguard steadied his friend and closed the door in Peterson’s face. “Evan, it’s Gadi. What happened to you?”

  Evan simply stared at the table lamp, unresponsive.

  “What’s wrong with them?” the other bodyguard asked, snapping his fingers in both men’s faces. Neither so much as flinched. Both seemed focused on the light fixtures.

  Criten slowly stood. “What is the meaning of this?” he whispered.

  “These men have been judged.”

  “Judged?” Criten spat. “I am the only one who should judge them. They are my employees!”

  “Then you should keep a closer eye on them.”

  “How dare you?” Criten whirled toward him, clenching his hands at his sides.

  “I dare,” Adrian said, “because no one else can.” He took a step toward Criten. “These men tried to commit murder.”

  “That’s an outrageous claim!”

  “We both know they were acting on your orders,” Adrian said.

  “I think you should leave.” Criten pointed at the door. “I will address this with your state department tomorrow.”

  “No, you won’t.” Adrian took another step closer. “We have our own laws, don’t we?”

  “Get out.”

  “Of course.” Adrian gave a nod and headed for the door. The bodyguards made a path for him. He paused in the doorway and looked back at Criten. “Do yourself a favor and forget about the stone.” He glanced from one bodyguard to the other. “The stone and the Seers are both under the protection of the Leyala.”

  The door slammed behind him. He allowed himself a small smile and headed for his office.

  * * *

  “The Leyala!” Gadi hurried forward, his face pale with terror. “Your Excellency, what are they doing here?”

  “A good question.” Criten narrowed his eyes at the two employees Gray had returned to him, both reduced to drooling idiots. Of course he was familiar with the Leyala, the Warriors who policed the Warrior sect. Since the Warriors were the strongest and fastest of all the sects of Atlantis, someone had to stand as judge and jury in the event one of them went rogue—and so the Leyala had been born. “As I recall, an entire temple left the island about twenty years ago. They disagreed with my father’s policies. I wonder if this fellow was among them. He would have been just a child.”

  “What do we do with Evan and Mestor, Your Excellency?”

  “Once the Leyala has enacted judgment, there is no turning back, correct?” At Gadi’s nod, Criten shrugged. “Dispose of them then. I’m certain that’s what they would have wanted.”

  Gadi swallowed hard, but nodded.

  “Your Excellency.” Marcus came forward, a cell phone in his hand. “I found this in Evan’s pocket. It’s not his.”

  Criten took the turquoise-colored phone with a skeptical glance. “I should hope not.” He powered it on and pulled up the contacts list. Slowly he smiled. “Well, well. This is Cara McGaffigan’s phone. Even in defeat, Evan did well for us.” There was a new text message, and he opened it. A delighted smile spread across his face. He flipped through the contacts again, found the number for Home and called it, listening to the answering machine that picked up.

  When the beep sounded, he disconnected the call and summoned power, gathering energy from the air around them. A soft glow covered his hand and the phone in it. Motioning for quiet, he dialed the number where the text message had originated.

  Danny Cangialosi answered on the first ring. “Cara, my God, where have you been?”

  Criten filtered his voice through his power, manipulating the tones and pitch to match the voice on Cara McGaffigan’s home answering machine. “Danny, I’m so sorry. My phone went dead and I had to get a new charger, and I just got your text. I can have the money you need wired to you, just tell me where.”

  “I’m in a small town called Benediction in Arizona. There’s a Wes
tern Union in the grocery store here. You can send it there.”

  “Are you okay, Danny? I’m worried about you.”

  “I’m fine. Just send the money so I can pick it up in the morning. I’m running low. I’ll text you the info, and if it’s not there by noon, then I’ll know you changed your mind.”

  “Maybe I should come out there. I can help.”

  “By the time you get here, I’ll be long gone. Don’t look for me, Cara. Just go home to Jersey, and I’ll be in touch when things settle down.” He hung up.

  Criten closed the phone and looked at Gadi. “Arrange for a private plane to fly to Benediction, Arizona, tonight. Danny Cangialosi will be picking up a wire transfer there tomorrow morning.”

  Gadi nodded. “Yes, Your Excellency. We’ll go get him.”

  “No.” Criten held up a hand. “We’ll all go. I’m tired of incompetence. Arrange for appropriate accommodations in whatever decent-sized city is closest to the area.”

  “Yes, Your Excellency.”

  “And see to those two before you go.” Criten waved a hand at Evan and Mestor before slipping the phone in his pocket and heading toward the bedroom.

  By tomorrow morning, the Stone of Igarle would be in his possession. By tomorrow night, the bounty hunter and his entire family of Seers would be dead. And then he could begin his search for the last of the Stones of Ekhia.

  After centuries, justice would finally come to pass for the Great Betrayal.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The tension at dinner could have smothered all of them.

  Cara swallowed the last bite of her meal—simple tacos with fresh tortillas and refried beans—and reached for her iced tea. She’d hoped that Rafe’s emotional confession in the bedroom would have given him some release, but in the presence of his family, he once more took shelter in a shell of reserve. He exchanged small talk with his father, punctuated by awkward silences, and otherwise focused on his food. Maria chatted with Tessa about a shoe sale she’d seen at the mall, but the stiffness of her shoulders indicated she wasn’t as relaxed as she pretended to be. Darius scowled and ripped into the soft tacos as if he were a lion with a freshly killed gazelle.

 

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