Apostate

by Frankie Robertson

“I wrote—”

  “Emails! That’s not the same. Alex should know his uncle.”

  Anger flared. “Oh, so now I’m not a bad influence?”

  “I’d just had a baby!” She gestured broadly. “My hormones were all over the place.”

  Their mother had told him as much, but she’d also suggested that it might be best if he gave Julia some time and space to get her bearings as a new mom. He’d been deployed a month later. It had been easier after that to keep his distance.

  Reflexively, Dave pushed aside the guilt, even as desire for the astringent burn of a shot of whiskey flared through him. He wouldn’t bow to that desire or let it cripple him, even though the guilt that drove him to drink was what had brought him here. “I sent money. Which you haven’t been spending on fixing up the place, obviously. Why are you living in this rat-hole? I send you enough, you could live someplace better.”

  Unshed tears pooled in her eyes. “Don’t you criticize me!” She kept her voice low so Alex wouldn’t hear, making it come out like a hiss.

  Shit. This wasn’t going the way he’d hoped for at all.

  “Okay, let’s go with an easier question. This kind of destruction must have made a racket. Why the hell didn’t your neighbors call the cops when Chad broke down your door?”

  “Most of them work. They probably weren’t here. And if he timed it right, the Coaster going by would have covered the noise. The only one who’s around all the time, the lady next door, is afraid of Chad.”

  “What the fuck?” She brought a guy into her home that the neighbors were afraid of?

  “Don’t look at me that way! He was nice at first and I tossed him out on his ass the first time he lifted a hand to Alex.”

  “Wait a minute. I thought he hit you.”

  Julie’s glare made Dave glad she’d already locked her gun away. “Okay, never mind that. And I’m not blaming you. A lot of jerks know how to charm their way into a woman’s bed. But why did he break in and toss the place? What was he looking for?”

  “I don’t know and I don’t have time for your interrogation right now. I need to make dinner and make sure Alex is okay.” She left the bedroom without a backward glance.

  Dave stared at the floor for several seconds as frustration and anger wrestled in his gut. Julie had gotten herself tangled up with a nastier than average jerk-off and he was pretty sure that she knew more than she was telling him about what had happened here. He’d come to California to reconnect with his sister, and instead, he’d landed face first in some kind of clusterfuck. Had he thought she’d greet him with open arms? Had he really been that foolish? He shook his head, disgusted and amazed that he still had that much naiveté. It was going to take time, persistence, and a whole lotta work to repair this family. Pretty much like everything else in his life.

  He left the bedroom, stopping next to the kitchen. “Where’s your toolbox? I’ll see what I can do about the door.”

  Long afternoon shadows stretched across the street as Tasha climbed the steep sidewalk beside Kellan. Her quads and calves protested the incline. She’d walked every day of the last six months, but Coronado was essentially flat while Old Town Bisbee had been built into the side of a mountain. Kellan stopped when they got to the corner and Tasha was glad to have a chance to catch her breath.

  “That’s the gallery over there.” He tilted his head to indicate the Blue Moxy Gallery diagonally across the street. “I think the owner may be an U’dahmi. Let me know if you sense anything, okay?”

  Monique had told her that her ability to sense U’dahmi was extremely unusual. Even U’dahmi couldn’t feel each other. That was part of their unique magic and their protection against discovery by the Celestials and Apostates. The fact that she could detect them at all, let alone without touching, was unheard of.

  “You’re not here just to find Jasper, are you?”

  Kellan looked away, as if he didn’t want to answer.

  Tasha took his hand. His mental barriers were tight but she could slip inside a little because she was Fey and he’d fed from her. And he didn’t really want to keep her out. **I don’t know what the problem is, but whatever is bugging you, I can handle it.**

  **I’m supposed to follow up on Jasper’s assignment, too.**

  **Okay, that seems like a good place to start looking for your partner.** She paused as insight burst upon her. **And you expect you’ll have to kill someone. That’s what your sword is for.**

  **Yes.** Kellan’s mental tone was grim. **I’d rather you not witness that.**

  She’d teased him that he wasn’t wearing the wakizashi in the traditional way when he’d pulled it out of the guitar case and slung the blade from a shoulder strap. He’d pulled his jacket on over it. He’d barely smiled and said strutting around town with a sword stuck through his belt wasn’t exactly low profile. Now she understood why he’d been so somber. Tasha stared silently at their clasped hands for a long moment. **I don’t necessarily trust your Council to make life and death decisions, but I trust you. I’ll let you know if I sense he’s one of you.**

  Kellan’s flare of gratitude washed through their connection, quickly suppressed.

  **What is this guy supposed to have done?**

  **I’d rather you didn’t know. You might not be able to hide your reaction to him.**

  **You might as well tell me. If you don’t, I’ll be all weirded-out and wondering. Besides, I can fake it pretty well.**

  Kellan lifted a brow as he regarded her, and she grimaced at the double-entendre she’d unwittingly made. **You know what I mean.**

  He paused, then seemed to come to a decision. **He didn’t wait for a mortal to die before taking the body.**

  Horror tightened her hand on Kellan’s. **You mean he possessed someone?**

  **So the Council believes.**

  Tasha closed her eyes. What would that be like? Would you be aware? Would you be trapped in your body, helpless, while your captor made you do things you didn’t want to do? Or would it be like being locked away in a lightless cell? For a moment she was back in that small room where her kidnappers had kept her, with the dark pressing in on her. Then Kellan’s warm hand covered hers and his compassion flooded into her.

  **You’re not a victim. Not now, and not ever again.**

  She opened her eyes to see him gazing at her with confident regard.

  **Damn straight,** she thought.

  Kellan grinned. **Let’s do this.**

  Chapter Six

  Tasha stood beside Kellan as he chatted up the gallery owner, Demitrios Xenakis. He’d toned down his earlier impatience and now was discussing the impressionistic influence on the local artist whose work dominated one wall as if that was his only concern. From Xenakis’ responses, it sounded as if Kellan knew what he was talking about—which shouldn’t surprise her. He’d been around long enough to accumulate a lot of knowledge. What did surprise her was that he wasn’t making a move on this guy.

  What is he waiting for?

  She’d known Mr. Xenakis was U’dahmi as soon as she’d walked into the small shop and had caught Kellan’s eye with a quick nod. This was one thing she could do—recognize an U’dahmi in spite of his ability to hide, even from others of his kind. But Kellan seemed to be ignoring her ID, acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

  Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe Xenakis was just an ordinary U’dhami, if one could call any of them that, and not the rogue Kellan had been sent after. But how would they know?

  “My friend Jasper Sorensen works mostly in watercolor,” Kellan said pulling out his phone to show Jasper’s picture. “He said he was going to show his portfolio to the gallery owners here. Has he contacted you?”

  Mr. Xenakis was about thirty with a full head of light brown curls that waved like kelp as he shook his head. “No. I don’t think so, but I remember art better than faces. Do you have any pictures of his work?”

  “No. Sorry.” Kellan put away his phone and held out his hand. “Thanks, anyway,”
<
br />   Mr. Xenakis shook it, his expression giving away nothing. That was to be expected. He wouldn’t know that Kellan was U’dahmi, let alone an Enforcer from the Council, unless her friend wanted him to.

  Then Tasha offered hers. Xenakis took her hand gingerly, as many men did, but Tasha grasped him firmly. His eyes widened as he jerked his hand back and shook it as if he’d been shocked. Tasha wrapped her fingers into a fist as if she could hold onto the strange sensation and frowned. She’d touched Xenakis long enough to form a clear impression. The man they’d been talking to wasn’t alone in his head—but he wasn’t holding a human prisoner either.

  “What are you?” she whispered.

  “Tasha?” Kellan pushed her back by the simple act of stepping between them.

  “I—I’m sorry. I have a meeting,” Xenakis said, just as a tall, slender woman with long straight black hair came out from the back.

  “Do you know if we ordered more—,” she’d been looking down at a tablet, but then she lifted her gaze and took in the tableau of her partner’s fear and Kellan’s protective posture. “Oh, shit. I mean—I’m sorry to intrude.”

  “Run!” Xenakis shouted as he leapt with unnatural speed toward the door.

  Kellan’s hand snapped out, grabbing him before he could reach the exit.

  The woman surged toward Kellan, her face twisted in anger. “Let him go!”

  Tasha jumped sideways and grabbed the woman’s arm with both hands. Again she got the impression of two personalities, one U’dahmi, one mortal. The U’dahmi was horrified, and the human was—furious?

  **Leave us alone!** The woman twisted her arm trying to dislodge Tasha’s clasp, but Tasha held on. “Let go of me!” the woman shouted aloud.

  “Calm down! We don’t want to hurt you!”

  “Tasha,” Kellan warned from a few steps away. He probably meant that she shouldn’t make false promises.

  “They’re not possessed. Possessing. Gah! Whatever,” she said, still struggling to hold on to the taller woman. “No one’s being coerced. You don’t have to kill them.”

  “Oh God! You’re an Enforcer?” Xenakis moaned. “I told you we should run after that other one came here.”

  “He promised not to tell anyone.” That was from the U’dahmi living in the woman’s body.

  Vows might bind a Celestial but had less effect on an U’dahmi. While they’d been on the Terrestrial Plane they’d learned how to break a promise from the humans they lived among—though doing so wasn’t a trivial thing. Or so Monique had said.

  **I warned you,** the mortal in the woman said.

  **What do I call you both?** Tasha asked.

  **What do you care? He’s just going to kill us, anyway!**

  **I don’t see why.**

  **He’s an Enforcer! It’s what they do!** Deborah speared Tasha with a hard look. **What’s going on here? You’re a Fey. What are you doing with an Enforcer?**

  **It’s a long story. I’m Tasha, by the way.**

  **I’m Deborah,** the human part of her answered.

  “And the name of your U’dahmi friend?”

  “Why do you care? So the Council can cross our names off their list?” Mr. Xenakis sounded defeated.

  “Oh, Melchior! Don’t give up, baby.”

  Tasha felt both the U’dahmi’s and human’s love and anguish. “Don’t worry. We just need some information. We’re not going to hurt you,” Tasha tried to reassure them again. “Tell them, Kellan.”

  Kellan didn’t say anything, just stepped over to the door and locked it, flipping the sign on the door to “Closed.”

  “Your pet Fey doesn’t seem to understand the rules, Enforcer. When are you going to tell her? Or are you just going to demonstrate?” Athena said.

  Tasha glanced at Kellan. “What is she talking about?”

  He remained silent but Mr. Xenakis answered. “She means that your U’dahmi friend has to kill us because we broke the Council’s rule. He doesn’t have a choice unless he wants to be considered a rogue, too.”

  Tasha stared at Kellan in horror. The muscles in his jaw jumped but he didn’t deny what Xenakis said. “But you have discretion over who you kill. Don’t you?”

  Kellan ignored her question. “Let’s go into the back room.”

  Neither Xenakis nor Deborah moved.

  “He’d have to justify any decision to contravene the Council’s judgment,” Xenakis elaborated. “If he can’t, they might find his loyalty is in question, and decide he’s gone rogue.”

  “And because he’s an Enforcer, they’d consider him that much more dangerous, and probably execute him on the spot. So he won’t be letting us go,” Athena said bitterly.

  “How did I not know this?” Tasha asked.

  The grim expression on Kellan’s face frightened her. “You do know it,” he said in tight voice. “You know that Ezra wanted to kill you because you know too much. Hell, he considered killing me because I allowed your sister’s Celestial friends to prevent my death. You’re alive only provisionally—on my parole—because your disappearance would draw even more Celestial attention to the U’dahmi. You know we have only two capital crimes: violating our secrecy and harming a human—and that includes stealing a mortal vessel. These two have done both. You know what must be done.”

  She did know. But it wasn’t what Kellan thought.

  “Let them tell their story before you pronounce sentence.”

  “This is why I didn’t want to bring you.” Kellan met her gaze with an expression so pained that she thought his face might shatter. “What you ask tortuously prolongs the inevitable—for me and them as well.”

  “I can deal,” Melchior said, looking at Athena.

  Athena nodded. “And if we can take it, you sure as hell can suck it up.”

  Kellan sighed and pulled Melchior over to stand beside Tasha. She touched Kellan’s face so she could communicate privately. **Thank you.**

  He gave her a bitter smile and his thoughts were laced with worry. **Don’t thank me yet.** Then he said, “Clasp hands.” When Tasha reached for Melchior’s hand, Kellan gasped Athena’s and directed his thoughts to them both. **Okay, what’s your sad story?**

  By the time Julie had dinner ready, Dave, with Alex’s help, had repaired the door well enough to keep stray dogs out. The whole thing would have to be replaced, frame and all. He’d stop by one of the big-box hardware stores tomorrow for a steel-clad door and a heavy-duty lockset. His handiwork and a dozen three-inch screws would have to do until then. The main problem was that the new door would be put into this POS trailer. A determined intruder would just come through a window or even the wall.

  The three of them crowded around a tiny café table meant for two to enjoy Julie’s oven-fried chicken.

  “Sorry the gravy is store-bought,” she said, ladling it over her biscuit.

  “Are you kidding? This tastes just like what Mom used to make.”

  Julie snorted. “That’s because her gravy was from a jar, too.”

  Dave stopped shoveling in his dinner long enough to meet her eyes. “Really?”

  She lifted a shoulder in a kind of shrug. “Dad never wanted to wait long enough for her to make it from scratch.”

  And keeping Dad happy had been the name of the game back then. He could have done without thinking about that tonight. “Well, it’s good.” Then he noticed Alex forking gravy covered broccoli into his mouth as if someone might take it away from him if he didn’t hurry. “In fact, it might be a miracle food.”

  Julie followed his gaze and her eyes twinkled, lifting his heart a bit.

  When they’d finished eating, Alex cleared the table. The process was slowed significantly by his story about how one of the two classroom guinea pigs that they thought were males was actually female and she’d had babies that afternoon. They were really small and she had eight of them and did they know that a female guinea pig was called a sow just like a real pig?

  Dave couldn’t help grinning at his nephew’s excitemen
t. Julie was lucky. She had one resilient kid, there.

  When the dishes were in the dishwasher, the homework done, the living room straightened, and Alex’s one TV show watched, Julie sent him off to get ready for bed. When the boy was in the bathroom brushing his teeth she said, “You want to read to him? We’ve just started White Fang.”

  She still read to Alex? At ten? “Uh, sure.”

  She must have seen his thoughts on his face because she added, “It’s a bonding thing. My friend’s husband still reads to their sons and they’re twelve and thirteen. And kids who are read to do better in school.”

  Alex emerged from the bathroom and headed straight for his room. “I’m ready, Mom.”

  “Huh.” He could field strip an M4 rifle in fifteen seconds but what he knew about good parenting would fit in a thimble. Their dad had never set much of an example and their mom had been overwhelmed. Time for a strategic retreat. He headed for Alex’s bedroom. “I hear White Fang howling.”

  “Only one chapter. Don’t let him talk you into more,” she called after him.

  Half an hour later, Dave marked chapter three and closed the book, relieved more than he wanted to admit that Henry and Bill were still alive, although it was looking pretty grim for the duo and their remaining dogs.

  “Are all the dogs going to die?” Alex asked from his nest of covers.

  Lying to the kid wasn’t an option. Evasive action was called for. “I don’t want to spoil it for you.”

  Alex made a face. “They are.”

  Dave didn’t try to deny it but he did change the subject. “You did good today.”

  Alex answered in a small voice. “I was scared.”

  Dave nodded. “Good. The man who’s never scared is a fool. You kept your head even though you were frightened. That takes guts and smarts.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so. I was an Army Ranger and we were all scared at one time or another.”

  The memory of a dry Afghanistan night with a sky full of stars rose unbidden, and the barely heard footfall where no one had any business being. It was a tiny sound to be the harbinger of four hellish hours that had left three of his men dead and four more seriously wounded.