Apostate

Home > Other > Apostate > Page 8
Apostate Page 8

by Frankie Robertson


  **And Council Enforcers,** Athena added bitterly.

  **So we will accept what Kellan decides,** Melchior concluded.

  **You might accept whatever he decides, but the Enforcer faces a dilemma. He can’t execute you and Athena without damaging or killing me and Dimitrios. We’re too closely entwined. He can’t execute two rogues without harming two humans. And even if he could, I’m not going to just stand around and let him kill you,** Deborah said, stabbing her finger into Melchior’s chest.

  **We’ve talked about this—** Athena began, but Melchior interrupted.

  **This argument, more than anything else, should convince your Kellan that we’re not possessing our hosts,** Melchior chuckled, but it held a sour edge. **They quite definitely have minds of their own and control of their bodies.**

  **He’s not my Kellan,** Tasha protested, but Melchior just smiled slightly.

  Kellan rejoined them, looking bemused. “You look remarkably sanguine,” he said as he held out his hands.

  Melchior bowed slightly as he took Kellan’s hand. **We believe you to be both rational and honorable.**

  **We don’t—** Deborah started but Athena shushed her.

  **Let him speak.**

  **Do we live?** Athena asked as she completed the circle.

  Tasha’s heart sped. He’d said he’d never been able to pardon a rogue. He was loyal to the Council even though deep down he hated the job he’d been given. He hadn’t said as much, but she knew that it wounded him every time he had to end the life of another U’dahmi, even though they’d earned their sentence. She didn’t want that for him, but he wouldn’t walk away. If he did, some other U’dahmi would be given the task.

  Gazing into Tasha’s eyes, he told them all, **I see no crime here worthy of execution.**

  Tasha squealed and threw her arms around Kellan’s neck. She was so proud of him. He’d done the right thing instead of what the Council probably would have dictated. He caught her in a steadying embrace, pulling her closer to his lean, muscled body. It lasted only a moment, and then she drew back, striving for a bit of dignity. She hadn’t meant to share all that with him so openly, but her happiness had over-flowed.

  Kellan let her go, but with a slowness that conveyed his reluctance.

  “Furthermore, forcibly removing you from your human hosts would probably injure their minds. That would violate my oath to not harm mortals and I won’t do that.”

  “We wouldn’t let that happen,” Melchior said. “I don’t know if we could separate safely—we’ve been entwined for years—but if you’d required it, we’d have left voluntarily. We wouldn’t risk Deborah or Demetri by fighting it.”

  “They might not have fought you, but I would.” By the subtle shift of expression, Tasha knew Deborah was speaking. “Athena is part of me. I wouldn’t want to live without her, now.”

  The corner of Kellan’s mouth turned up. “That much was obvious—and part of what shaped my decision.” He met Melchior’s steady gaze and then Athena’s. “I’ll tell the Council that I found no sign of possession. That’s the truth—but I’m splitting a very fine hair. And the next time you transition, please choose a body that isn’t already occupied.” He waited until both of the other U’dahmi nodded. “Don’t give me cause to regret this.”

  Athena took Kellan and Tasha’s hands. **Thank you for taking this risk for us.**

  A jolt of alarm tightened Tasha’s fingers on Athena/Deborah’s hand. **Risk?** She felt Kellan’s mental barriers slam shut. She wasn’t going to get any answers from him.

  Athena was more forthcoming. **The Council might take exception to Kellan’s decision if they find out about it. Which they will, if they examine him closely. Depending on how angry they are, they could brand him a rogue. Send another Enforcer after him.**

  She looked at Kellan for verification. He glared at Athena. **She didn’t need to know that.**

  Tasha’s temper flared. **How dare you hide this from me? I care about you, you jerk! Not to mention that bunch of assholes would wipe my mind since you vouched for me .**

  **The Council may be rigid, but they don’t send Enforcers to remove threats because they’re cold-hearted. They’ve taken on the burden of protecting all U’dahmi. None of us has the right to choose our own will over the safety of the rest. Not these U’dahmi. Not me. Not you. I made this choice because I believe this… cohabitation… poses no appreciable risk of discovery by Celestials, Apostates, or humans at large. But make no mistake―if I find out I was wrong I will not hesitate to do what I must to protect the U’dahmi from discovery.**

  Kellan shook hands with each of the U’dahmi as they parted. Their touch conveyed their gratitude and their resolve to keep their secret—and their intention to relocate immediately. Whatever happened going forward, he was confident that they wouldn’t be the cause of any harm coming to Tasha.

  He and Tasha started back to the hotel, walking single-file down the steep, narrow sidewalk. Old-fashioned street lights that looked like they’d been made in the 19th century cast pools of light every fifty feet or so. It was reassuring to know that Jasper had come to the same conclusion that Kellan had regarding Melchior and Athena—but where was he? Instead of reporting for a new assignment, Jasper had disappeared. The man Kellan knew wouldn’t shirk his duty. He was organized, methodical, and dedicated. Or at least that’s how Kellan would have described him nine months ago. Why hadn’t he checked in with the Council since then, or at least with Kellan? Had he worried that Kellan would report his unorthodox decision to the Council?

  His stomach tightened at the thought that his partner might not have trusted him to have his back. But then, Bentolon had reported Farandiel. Had he given Jasper cause to doubt him?

  They were almost back to the hotel when he realized Tasha remained uncharacteristically silent. He stepped into the street so he could draw abreast of her. Even standing a step below her, Kellan still had to bend to see into the petite brunette’s face.

  “What?” she asked, seemingly startled from her reverie.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” he said pulling a coin from his pocket. He could have offered his hand, inviting greater intimacy, but he wanted to give her the room to refuse him without erecting her mental shields.

  Tasha rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth turned up, softening her expression. “You must think I’m a pretty cheap date.”

  Kellan put the penny away and pulled out a credit card. “What’s the going rate these days?”

  “More than you can afford,” Tasha’s tone was light but he sensed an underlying seriousness. She shrugged. “I want my old life back.”

  Kellan’s heart twisted. He’d give it to her if he could, but the Golden Path was still looking for her. Jared had come across at least two quiet queries into her whereabouts in the last six months. Now that she knew better how to use her gifts she’d be tougher for them to bend to their will, but her power would still make her an attractive prize. “That’s not a good idea—”

  “I know. I don’t expect you to arrange it, but you asked. That’s what I was thinking about. I’m well aware that the life I was planning and building is out of reach now.”

  There was nothing he could say to refute that or make her feel better.

  “I’ve known it for some time now,” she said as she continued walking. “I pretended to myself that I could go back to being just a fashion designer once Monique finished teaching me, but then Ezra showed up and made it clear that there are players in this game that don’t care what I want. I probably should have accepted it sooner, but I think I was hoping the Golden Path would just lose interest in me. Maybe they will, but now the U’dahmi Council has their eye on me, too, and they play for keeps. I can’t risk bringing attention to Athena and Melchior or their family. This is my life now: following you around while you do whatever you do.”

  It was normal that she’d grieve the loss of her dream, but Kellan still hated hearing the sadness in her voice.

  “S
o I was thinking, since you think your promise to protect me means you’re stuck with me, maybe you could teach me what I need to know to watch your back. That way I could be your partner instead of a burden—at least until you find Jasper.”

  “I don’t think of you as a burden.”

  “Really? You dumped me on Monique pretty quick.”

  “She could teach you things about being Fey that I don’t know about.”

  Tasha held out her hand. She was asking him to let her inside, and if he did that she’d know how much time he spent thinking about her. How attractive he found her. How much he wanted to get inside her, emotionally and otherwise.

  Damn Antoine. The Frenchman who’d bequeathed his body to Kellan had been quite the ladies’ man before his illness. He wouldn’t have hesitated to accept Tasha’s request for emotional intimacy.

  But if he was honest with himself, he knew he couldn’t lay this at Antoine’s door. Kellan liked Tasha’s determination, her resilience, her spunk. She was lovely and petite and he was living in a mortal body that had all the working parts. Of course he responded to her, and if Antoine were still here, he’d say, “Mon ami, what are you waiting for?”

  He’d kept his distance precisely because he didn’t want to wait, and he didn’t want to pressure her. He hoped she’d reciprocate, but if she didn’t, that would make keeping her close enough to protect incredibly awkward. She might feel obligated to him for rescuing her, but that wasn’t enough. He didn’t want to put her in that position, but if he didn’t let her in she’d assume he was lying—that he did resent having her around. She’d think he saw her as a dependent mortal that he only tolerated because he’d promised her sister to watch out for her.

  “Okay, but not here on the street. After dinner. Back in the room.”

  Chapter Eight

  “I’m sorry,” Julie whispered.

  Dave suspected her memory was just as sharp and almost as painful as his, though not for the same reason.

  That night had been cool, as spring nights in coastal SoCal were. Dave had passed his GED at seventeen and his mother had signed off on letting him enlist.

  Dave had returned home from the Army recruitment office buoyant with hope that with his meager pay he’d be able to take his mother and sister away from Dad’s abuse. He wouldn’t make much at first, but even if they had to live in some crap-hole apartment until he got a bump in pay grade, it would be better than having to protect Mom from Dad’s fists or belt whenever the jerk tied one on—which was often. Dave already had his report date—only two weeks away. Just a few more weeks, when he had his first tiny paycheck, and they’d be free.

  But Dad had come home early and overheard Dave explaining his plan. Dave didn’t mind taking a punch for his mom. He’d done it before, but this time the asshole had gone after Julie. She was only ten and small for her age. The sight of his father raising his hand to her was more than he could take. At seventeen, Dave had some muscle from years shifting boxes at the grocery store. With a bellow of rage, he’d shoved Dad away from Julie, and the drunken bastard had toppled backward. The crack of his father’s skull on the edge of the kitchen counter had seared itself into his brain.

  The Army wouldn’t take him if he’d killed someone, so his mother told the police that she’d done it to defend her daughter. Dave and Julie backed her story, and the bruise on Julie’s face and Dave’s history of hospital visits convinced them. The district attorney had taken one look at Dad’s record and had declined to prosecute.

  “I’m sorry,” Julie said again, stronger this time. “Of course I don’t want Alex put at risk, but I don’t think running away is the answer.”

  “You think I ran away?”

  “Didn’t you? You left Mom to take the blame. We had to move into a crappy little apartment. I suppose that was a blessing in disguise, though. At least the new neighbors didn’t think she was a murderer—although that might have given Mom some street cred with the drug dealer who lived downstairs. He might have stopped trying to get me to sell to the kids in my new school.” Julie tossed back the last of her wine and went to the kitchen to refill her glass.

  Would you rather I’d let Dad beat you?

  Dave kept the bitter words behind his teeth. This was why he was here. To get the pain and the anger out, and maybe, maybe, find a way to make it right between them.

  He’d suspected those first few years had been rough on Mom and Julie, but Mom’s letters and emails had been full of optimism. He guessed not living in constant fear might have been enough for her. But he hadn’t thought much about how a ten-year-old girl might feel after having her life upended. He’d just been glad Dad wasn’t around to beat on her.

  He hadn’t thought much about feelings at all back then. His had been locked tightly in a box until Aelziroth had popped the lid off that sucker. Being possessed by a demon was not something he would tell Julie about.

  What could he say that wouldn’t make this worse, let alone better? For fifteen years he’d grown used to taking orders, giving commands, and risking his life to complete a mission. But it wasn’t his life at risk now. This was uncharted territory. What he said next might screw the pooch or let him take another step forward.

  What would his mentor at rehab say?

  “I’m sorry it was so hard on you, but I don’t know what I could have done differently.”

  “You could have tried coming home once in a while!’

  “I was sending Mom every spare dime. I didn’t have money to travel. And later, I was deployed.” The combat pay had helped Mom and Julie move to a better place.

  Julie glared, blinking back tears.

  “I was there when Alex was born.” He wasn’t sure if he said that to mollify her or make himself feel better.

  “And then never showed your face again!”

  Shit. This conversation was more agonizing than getting shot. He clamped down on the pain and spoke in a flat tone, “You told me to leave and not come back. You said I’d be a bad influence on Alex.”

  “I was hormonal! I’d just had a baby.”

  “I don’t know anything about that shit.”

  “You didn’t even come when Mom died.”

  “You didn’t call me until after she’d been cremated.”

  It was only when Julie broke down sobbing that the light bulb turned on in his head and he finally understood what she couldn’t say.

  Tasha sipped her margarita, but even though the tequila was an añejo, the drink just didn’t appeal. The street-style tacos were better. The day had been long and stressful and she was tired, both physically and emotionally. Maybe that was why she’d demanded answers from Kellan when she was already pretty sure of the answer. What good would come from forcing him to tell her straight out that she was little more to him than baggage? She didn’t try to deny that something flared between them when he fed from her, but maybe that happened all the time. It might be nothing more than a psychic Yum! on his side.

  The silence between them stretched out. The restaurant was busy, and conversations surrounded them, but neither she nor Kellan had said anything beyond please and thank you to the server. She groped for something—anything—to talk about, but everything that was uppermost in her mind was a subject they shouldn’t discuss in public.

  Nice weather we’re having, isn’t it? Tasha groaned at the inane thought, and Kellan cast a curious glance her way.

  They couldn’t go on this way.

  “Listen, never mind what I said before. Just forget about it, okay?”

  Kellan looked at her like she was an unexploded bomb. Which maybe she was.

  “I mean, finding Jasper is more important. Let’s focus on that. We shouldn’t complicate things, right?”

  Kellan shook his head. “No. You were right, earlier. You should know—more. You’ll be safer. It’s better if I don’t hide things from you.”

  “Then why do you look like the prospect of opening up to me is as appealing as eating broken glass?”

>   He stiffened. “I’m used to hiding— it’s what U’dahmi do—and with good reason. You know that. We don’t share our secrets with outsiders. But I will. For you.”

  Outsider. Hearing him call her that didn’t sting—much. She’d been one most of her life. She’d tried to fit in, tried to be like her friends in school, but she’d always felt different. She was Fey, a descendant of Gaia or one of her cohort. And no matter how much she’d tried to ignore it, she had power. Yes, she was an outsider. And so was Kellan, most of the time. He’d moved among humans for thousands of years, slipping from one body to the next, living a multitude of lives, but he could never let himself get too close. That’s why U’dahmi needed partners. So they could share their true selves with at least one other.

  “I do know. And I also know how hard stepping outside one’s comfort zone can be. So—thank you.” She folded her napkin and placed it next to her plate. “I’m ready when you are.”

  The night was chilly. Kellan walked beside Tasha with his hands in his pockets. He’d sit down with her as soon as they got into their room, and touch her face as he’d been longing to do for some time now. He’d open his mind to her, share what she needed to know, and she’d see how much he cared for her. If that made her uncomfortable, well, then he’d find someone else to protect her.

  By mutual agreement they walked around the block, taking the long way back. They stopped in a little pocket park carved out of the hillside that sported one picnic table and a swing set. The street light at the corner cast a feeble glow, just enough to cast shadows across the dormant grass.

  Tasha leaned against the rusted railing and looked down to the street below. The street was quiet, the only sound came from SR 80 a half mile away.

  “Darkness like this doesn’t bother you?” Kellan asked.

  “It does, but there’s light, and it’s not so bad when there’s someone else around.”

 

‹ Prev