Kellan stepped back mentally, focused on his physical body and released Tasha’s hand.
Instantly he was back in her room opening his eyes on a stunning sunset washing pinks and oranges over Point Loma and Tasha’s chagrined expression.
“Sorry. That worked a little too well.”
Someone who was willing to do extreme violence to her mind might punch through her walls, but that would likely lose them whatever knowledge they were searching for. Short of that, Tash’s psyche was closed to intruders. Ezra and the rest of the Council could relax.
“Don’t apologize. That was brilliant.” Kellen took her hand again, mentally tipping his hat to her, sharing his admiration of what she’d accomplished. **Do you still feel that way? About the dark?**
Tasha tried to pull her hand away, but Kellan held on, raised it to his mouth, and licked the small wound closed, caressing her with his tongue.
Tasha shivered, aroused by the sensation. Kellan’s body responded to hers and he clamped down on his hunger.
**No. Yes. Sometimes. It’s different now. It was Monique’s idea to use the fear. Once I realized I could, it stopped having power over me. Mostly.**
Kellan wanted to pull her into a hug but just held her hand. **After what Seketh did to you, I worried.**
Tasha withdrew from his touch. “You had a funny way of showing it. I know you meant to protect me, but you pulled me away from everything I knew and then dropped me on Monique. She’s been great, but I didn’t know her when you dumped me here.”
Inwardly, Kellan grimaced. Mortals were fragile, emotionally as well as physically. He’d moved from one life to the next so many times it was easy to forget that humans usually didn’t cope well with unexpected change. “I’m sorry. From now on, as much as I can, I’ll give you a choice about where you go and what you do. But your safety comes first. Deal?”
“Deal. But will Ezra go for that?”
“Let’s go find out.”
Chapter Four
Tasha stood by waiting impatiently while Kellan gave his report via mental connection. She trusted him—even if he had abandoned her six months ago—but she didn’t like being left out of the conversation. She liked it even less when the conversation was about her.
Kellan’s expression turned stony. That couldn’t be good news.
Monique touched her fisted hand. **Relax.**
**That’s easy for you to say.** Nevertheless, she wiggled her fingers in an effort to release some of her tension. **What if he decides I’m a liability? I’m not going to let him wipe my mind.** She wasn’t sure what she’d do, but she wasn’t going to just lie back and take it.
Ezra released Kellan’s hands and turned to face her. Kellan stayed as he was, slightly turned away, as if he was trying to hide his expression. She wanted to go to him, but she had the feeling that he wouldn’t welcome her intrusion.
“Kellan’s report is satisfactory—as far as it goes,” Ezra spoke as if he had a right to her attention, his gray gaze capturing and holding hers. “You’re on probation, Ms. Kaminski. All of the U’dahmi depend on your integrity, strength, and self-control. I think the Council should impose a restriction on your mind, but Kellan argued against it. He’s taken responsibility for your actions. So that he can fulfill that, you’ll accompany him on his new assignment. Please don’t fail him—or us. Be assured that if you do, there will be consequences to you both.” He waited, clearly expecting a response.
Ezra’s cold-blooded warning sent a chill down Tasha’s spine. She had no doubt that he meant every word of it. The U’dahmi fiercely protected their secrecy. “I would never do anything to endanger either Kellan or Monique.” You, on the other hand… But she kept her snark behind her teeth.
“Very well.” Ezra held out his hand to Monique. “Thank you for your hospitality.”
Monique hesitated a beat before taking it. Her touch was light and brief. With no more recognition than that, Ezra nodded and left.
She waited until she heard the distant ding of the elevator then her teacher said, “Seraphim,” with a growl in her voice. “They always think they know best.”
“He’s a Seraph?” Tasha asked. There were three main factions among the Celestials if you didn’t count the Gaians. Her brother-in-law, Gideon, was a Guardian. His best friend, Jared, was a Lightbringer. Kellan and Monique had once been Lightbringers, inspired to share knowledge with humans until circumstances had severely limited their ability to do that. Ezra was the first Seraph she’d met. They were all about rules and order. Not exactly a motivation she shared.
“He was. Now he’s U’dahmi just like the rest of us,” Kellan said.
Monique shook her head. “Leopards don’t change their spots. Once a Seraph, always a Seraph.”
“Once a douche…?” Tasha asked, and Monique snickered.
“Does that mean you two weren’t an item, once upon a time?” Tasha asked.
“No, it doesn’t mean that.” Monique didn’t elaborate.
Kellan ignored their exchange. “We don’t choose our natures. We are what we are when we come into being.”
“Yeah, how does that work? You guys don’t have physical bodies in the Celestial Realm, so where do baby angels come from?”
“We don’t—” Monique started, but Tasha cut her off.
“—Call yourselves angels. I know.”
“You haven’t asked Monique?”
“She was busy teaching me how to turn rocks into sand and my mind into Fort Knox. It didn’t come up.”
“We’re born in the hearts of the stars.”
“That sounds suspiciously like, ‘Momma found you under a cabbage leaf.’”
Kellan laughed. She liked the sound.
“It’s true, nevertheless,” Monique said. “When stars explode, we’re born. Our natures may be fixed, but like humans, we choose what we do with them. The oldest among us witnessed the younger ones come into being.”
Science hadn’t been Tasha’s best subject in school, but she was pretty sure this was something the Hubble telescope hadn’t revealed. “Cool. What about God?”
Monique exchanged a look with Kellan. “We’ve never met the Creator. He left the Firsts in charge of his creation before I was born.”
“The Firsts?”
“Michael, Raphael, Lucifer, and Gaia are the Firsts of the Seraphim, the Guardians, the Lightbringers, and the Gaians,” Kellan explained.
Monique changed the topic. “What did Ezra say to you, before he laid that warning on Tasha?”
“Yeah, you looked like he’d fed you broken glass,” Tasha added.
Kellan’s expression turned sour. “He said Jasper, my partner, in addition to not checking in for too long, hadn’t completed his last assignment. I’m to investigate why, and do it myself.” He looked at Tasha and she got the feeling that he regretted what he had to say. “We’re going on a road trip.”
It was well after dark when Kellan pulled his Jeep Cherokee into the parking lot of the Hampton Inn in Yuma. The day had been long and taxing and Monique had insisted they eat before he and Tasha headed east, delaying their departure even more. Tasha was exhausted and Kellan had no interest in driving through the night. He’d rather get into Bisbee in the daytime, so he could take a look around.
The dry desert air was pleasantly crisp as they got out of the car and went inside. Tasha had insisted he get separate rooms when he called for reservations. He’d insisted on a connecting door for safety. If there was a need, he wanted to be able to get to her without delay.
Their rooms were on the fourth floor near the end, as Kellan had requested. Not for the view, but the top floor made it more difficult for intruders to get to her.
“Wait here.” Kellan left Tasha and their bags in the hall as he entered the first room and confirmed it was clear. Tasha came in right behind him with his guitar case and her bag. She made a beeline for the bed and sat with a little bounce.
“Comfy.”
“And the hotel provides a ni
ghtlight, too.” Kellan pointed to the bathroom.
“Nice. Is that why you picked this place?”
Kellan shrugged. “Partly.”
“I always travel with one, but I appreciate the thought.”
“How long have you played the guitar?”
Kellan glanced at the case that held more than one instrument. “A couple hundred years. I started with the mandolin and before that the lyre. Unless the person whose body I take was musical, I have to learn all over. I lose the muscle memory.”
“Will you play for me sometime?”
He lifted one shoulder. “If you want.”
“I’d like that, but maybe later. I’m wiped, and I bet you are, too. You should probably check out your own room, now.”
Kellan made sure her connecting door was unlocked before he left.
In his room, Kellan brushed his teeth and lay down fully clothed on the bed. He heard Tasha moving around for a while and then silence. He slept lightly, so when Tasha got up and ran the water briefly, he noted it. An hour later the toilet flushed. After another hour a light shined under the door and her TV came on, very softly.
He wasn’t surprised she found it hard to sleep. She’d had a stressful day demonstrating her control of her gifts, and then she’d had to endure an interrogation. At about three in the morning, he’d tapped on the door between their rooms.
Tasha opened her door. She wore only a t-shirt and panties. Kellan’s mouth went dry and he tried to focus on the fatigue shadowing her eyes and not the way her pert nipples tented her shirt.
“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” Tasha frowned, noting his fully dressed condition. “Have you even been to bed?”
“I have. I just like to be ready if I have to be. Don’t worry, I’ll change in the morning.”
“Okaaay. What did you want?”
“I heard you moving around. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“But you’re having trouble sleeping?”
Tasha shrugged.
“I could give you sleep, if you want.”
The fire that flared in her eyes said that had been the wrong thing to say.
“You mean like the last time you gave me sleep?” Tasha’s face contorted in anger. “No wait. That time you did it without my consent to control me—like putting me in a somnambulistic straight-jacket. Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll manage without you mucking around in my head!” She slammed the door on her side and locked it.
Kellan winced. Her anger was justified, even if he’d put her to sleep last time to save her life. She turned off the TV, but left a light on. She didn’t move around much after that. He hoped she’d manage to get some sleep. Maybe chewing him out had released a little of the day’s tension.
Kellan drove southeast on SR 80 through the tunnel that led into the town of Bisbee, Arizona. It was only two in the afternoon but Tasha was drowsing in the passenger seat. She’d fallen asleep with her head leaning back on the head-rest as they’d driven down I-10. It was no wonder. She hadn’t slept much last night, and it wasn’t like there was much to look at out the window. Pecan groves and cotton fields had given way to dry sandy desert dotted with saguaros and shrubby palo verde trees. Those had been replaced by grassy hill country studded with stunted oak and acacia trees as they’d climbed higher into the mountains. Starkly beautiful at first, it quickly grew monotonous.
She looked even younger than her twenty-three years without her usual high intensity vibrating through her. In truth, he was glad she’d fallen asleep. She’d wanted to stop in Tucson to see her sister Ana, but Kellan had argued against it. The Golden Path would not have forgotten about Tasha in a mere six months and might still have observers keeping an eye on Ana and Gideon. Meeting with them could be dangerous for everyone involved. With Tasha asleep he didn’t have to revisit the argument—at least, not right now. He glanced over at his slumbering passenger and smiled slightly, confident that she’d seize on the topic again when they drove back.
Old town Bisbee appeared as they emerged from the tunnel through the mountain. Victorian-era buildings climbed the hillsides of the canyon like a poor man’s San Francisco. A hundred and some years ago this had been a thriving mining town producing copper, gold, and turquoise. Now, like neighboring Tombstone, Bisbee’s main industry was tourism, its population a collection of quirky, artistic people who preferred to live life on their own terms. He hadn’t been this way for over fifty years, but at first glance it hadn’t changed much since then.
“So how are we going to find the people you’re looking for?” Tasha asked.
“I thought you were asleep,” Kellan said, avoiding the question. He’d told her as little as possible about his mission. Thanks to her Fey blood, she knew more about him than any other mortal ever had. She knew he was an Enforcer of U’dahmi law, but he dreaded reinforcing her awareness of him as a killer. It was his job to execute U’dahmi who hurt humans or drew unwanted attention to their existence. He wore an amulet to protect him from the psychic blow of an U’dahmi death, but he still felt the loss when he had to end an immortal life. Their numbers had been halved over the last forty-six hundred years. Every death was a loss. He didn’t enjoy his job, but if he didn’t do it, someone else would have to.
Tasha straightened in her seat and stretched. “I was, and that’s not an answer.”
“First, we’ll get checked in at the hotel. You’ll like it. The San Ramón is small and private.” He glanced over at her. Her exasperation was plain on her face. She wasn’t going to be put off, and it had been foolish to think he could. If he kept her near enough to protect her, she’d see up close and personal what he did. “I have the name of a local gallery owner that Jasper was pointed to. We’ll start with him. I thought I’d ask about Jasper first, see if he even showed up here. Shaking the guy’s hand will tell me if he’s telling the truth.”
“What did this guy allegedly do?”
“Allegedly?” Kellan huffed a short laugh. “This isn’t the human legal system, Tasha. When U’dahmi come to the attention of the Council, there’s a high probability they’ve screwed up, and if the Council sends someone like me to deal with it, the error was massive. By the time I’m called in, the Council has usually determined the need for my services, but I’ll know for sure when I examine him. When his transgression is confirmed, the consequences are immediate.”
“That’s harsh.”
“It’s survival. We only exist by keeping our heads down. We can’t let the Apostates learn our magic or they’d take control of the Terrestrial Plane, and if the Celestial leadership could find us, they’d kill all of us since we won’t recognize their command. We cut ourselves off from them completely to prevent that. All U’dahmi know the rules. We all agreed to them.”
Tasha was quiet for several beats and when she spoke her voice was soft. “Have you ever found out that the U’dahmi you were sent to kill didn’t deserve to die? Have you ever let someone go?”
Kellan’s jaw tightened. “No.”
Dave’s lips tightened against his teeth as he parked in front of the old single-wide mobile home in Oceanside, California. The setting sun didn’t do any favors for the faded blue finish and the white trim was dingy with decades of neglect. Three narrow steps led up to a metal-framed screened porch. The small trailer park backed up to the tracks of the Coaster commuter train and held a mixture of newer and older homes—mostly double-wides—but the grounds were clean and it was only five minutes from the beach. This unit was easily in the worst disrepair of any in the park. What had his sister been doing with the money he sent to her every month? And if she needed more, why hadn’t she told him? He’d have found a way to get it for her.
He wasn’t going to lead with that, though. His sister had kept contact with him to a minimum, only reluctantly accepting the money he sent because she needed it. They had too much history to wade through before he could tender any criticism. He had to take it easy if he wanted to find a way back into her life.
<
br /> Getting out of the Explorer, he made sure his t-shirt covered the Glock 19 in the concealed holster at his waist. It often made civilians nervous when they saw an armed man, so he carried his weapon out of sight most of the time. It was so much a part of his routine, he didn’t think about it much anymore—although this time he was thinking about Julie and her reaction.
He climbed the steps and was about to open the screen door to the porch when he got a good look beyond at the front door of the trailer. In an instant, he went from a mildly elevated level of concern for Julia’s feelings to full-on alarm over her welfare. The frame was broken and the wood of the flimsy piece of shit door had a hole kicked in it. Dave yanked open the screen door. The hinges complained but he ignored the grating sound.
He wanted to shout his sister’s name but he kept his mouth clamped shut. There’d been no sign of repairs attempted. Whoever had done this might still be inside. Crouching low, he pushed hard on the door. It resisted at first because of the damaged frame, then swung open. He popped his head around the corner to assess the situation, pulling back just as quickly. No shooters that he could see, no sudden movements. Just a godawful mess. Had the place had been ransacked or was Julia still the slob she’d been when she was twelve?
Dave eased around the wrecked frame, gun at the ready, and assessed the damage. Sofa cushions had been tossed aside, kitchen cabinets stood open with pots and broken glass on the floor. This was more than his little sister’s pigpen.
A noise from beyond the kitchen had him taking cover behind the counter. It wouldn’t protect him from a high-caliber round, but it might make him a harder target to zero in on. He waited, listening hard, but heard nothing more.
Damn it.
He hated clearing buildings. He’d hated it in Afghanistan when he had a team at his back, and he hated it even more right now when he wasn’t wearing body armor. He thought longingly of the ballistic vest in the back of his SUV. He hadn’t thought he’d need it for a visit with his sister.
Apostate Page 4
