"We'll do that," Mona agreed. "Good-night, Val."
Ari stood under the warm water of her en-suite shower, staring at the scallop shell imprint on her left palm. More and more, she'd become convinced that had Nico not placed the shell in her hand, she could be worse than dead at the moment.
The evidence on her palm didn't look as if it were going to fade, either. The ridges and outline of the shell were sharp and perfect, as if it had branded itself on her palm.
Nico hadn't mentioned it again and neither had she, as if it were a shared secret they'd take to their graves. Shuddering at the thought, Ari turned off the spray and stepped out of the walk-in shower, grabbing a towel from a nearby rack.
While drying herself, she considered everything Nico had been through. She worried that he was keeping his grief to himself, now. Should they consider a therapist—somebody he could tell his troubles to?
Under normal circumstances, it would be a reasonable thing to do. Nothing about any of this could come close to normal or reasonable.
"Ari?" Nico knocked on her door shortly after she'd dressed in her pajamas. Grabbing a thin robe out of her bag, she went to the door to let Nico in.
"What's up?" she asked as Nico, Mac clinging to his right shoulder, walked in.
"Remember when I told you earlier that I had a dream about you?"
"Yeah."
"I didn't tell you the whole dream," he said.
"You want to sit down? There are chairs over by the window," Ari invited.
"Sure." Nico and Mac followed her across the bedroom until they reached the chairs in question. Nico took one and made himself comfortable; Mac hopped onto the high back and did the same.
"What else happened in your dream, Nico?" Ari settled onto the other chair to listen.
"I saw Mama and Papa first," he said. "We were walking down this long road, until we got to a rocky cliff by the ocean. We didn't say anything while we walked, but when we reached the ocean, they told me things."
"What things?"
"They said they would always love me, and a part of them would always be with me. Then, they said that Mac would help guide me, and that you and Mac would guard me. But first, I had to help you. Mama told me that I needed to help you, Ari. She said you had to hold the shell."
"Nico," Ari clenched her hands for a moment. "I uh, need to show you something." Holding out her left hand, she opened her fist to show him her palm. "I don't think it's going away," she whispered. "You and your mama really did save me. I was sick, Nico. I know that, now."
"You and I—same," Mac croaked at Ari while eyeing her palm. "We stand. At. The end."
"At least one of us knows what's going on," Ari pulled her hand back and rested it on a knee.
"Ex. Plain. Late. Er."
"Okay. Nico, do you need anything? I think I can sleep on the floor if you want to stay in the same room tonight."
"Mac and I will be okay, I think."
"All right, but if that changes, let me know."
"I will."
Waffles and news waited for Nico and Ari when they woke the following morning. Janie's regular cook, Mary Kate, was back after her regular days off. Janie was having a cup of coffee at the island while Mary Kate put waffle batter together and turned sausages and bacon in a big iron skillet.
"Lance and Mona have to bring out two FBI agents to talk to both of you," Janie said as Nico and Ari sat at the island. Mac hopped onto the back of an empty barstool next to Nico.
"You didn't like that, did you?" Nico asked Janie.
"No, hon, and neither do Lance and Mona." Janie wore an uncharacteristic frown as she spoke. "They won't learn anything they haven't already read in the reports, so this is just a useless trip—except somebody could be watching them by now."
"You think they could be followed?" Ari asked as Mary Kate set a cup of coffee in front of her and a glass of juice in front of Nico. Mac, who got a small glass of water and a napkin, croaked a thank you.
"We don't know, do we?" Janie shook her head.
"Maybe we ought to go somewhere else, then. I don't want you to be in danger," Nico said.
"We'll see about that," Janie said. "I'm just not in any mood to play nice with rude FBI agents. Mona and I talked about it this morning. At least we have two guards who will be following Lance and Mona today, in case somebody does try to tail them."
"Morning," Val walked in to join them. Ari knew he'd already been working; he smelled like he'd gotten extremely close to cow patties and a newborn calf.
"They all right? Mom and baby?" Ari turned toward him.
"They are. Just needed a little help, that's all. They'll be kept in the barn for a day or two, to make sure everything stays that way before joining the rest of the herd." He grinned at her; it was the first time she'd ever said anything nice—or spoken voluntarily—to him.
Mary Kate filled plates and set them on the island in front of everybody; Ari found her appetite over eggs, bacon, sausage and a waffle.
"When are those agents supposed to be here?" Val asked his mother. Ari watched as he filled every square on his waffle with syrup before cutting into it.
"I figure around nine," Janie replied. "Will Burke be here before then?"
"Should be here anytime," Val said, stuffing a chunk of syrupy waffle in his mouth and chewing in a determined fashion.
"Good," Ari felt her shoulders sag. She hadn't known how tense she'd become after hearing the agents were coming. At least Burke could back them off Nico if it became necessary.
"F. B. I." Mac croaked. "Can't live. With. Them. Can't lure. More. Than. One with. A. Doe-nut."
Val turned his head. Ari watched as his shoulders began to shake. He was laughing at Mac's joke.
"High feathers," Nico held up a hand. Mac brushed it with a wing.
"Great. We have the police and the FBI on the way, plus a raven doing stand-up." Ari broke a piece of bacon in half and bit into it. "Makes perfect sense," she added.
Val guffawed.
"This place is big," Agent Abrams said, peering out her backseat window as Lance drove over the cattle guard and onto Jordan Ranch property.
"Our Aunt Janie is one of the best people I know, and if you're not polite, I'll haul you both out of here myself," Mona told Abrams and Reeves.
"Is that a threat?" Reeves asked.
"It sure is. Aunt Janie's special. If you feel the need to be rude, remember you're on private property and by invitation only. Violate that and you'll be asked to leave."
"As long as we're allowed to speak with the boy and the woman. We're only doing our job," Abrams attempted to soothe Mona's ruffled feathers.
"And we're doing ours. This is family land we're driving across, don't forget that."
"We'll try to remember our manners," Reeves said. "Although the dead jumping off three ships in Gulf Coast waters overnight may overwhelm our sensibilities during questioning."
"You think Ari and Nico have anything to do with that? Please," Mona huffed as Lance pulled into the driveway and stopped the car. "They don't even know about it, yet. Nobody does, present company excepted."
Lance stepped out of the car as the front door opened. He recognized Francine, Janie's housekeeper. She and Mary Kate, the cook, were sisters and had worked for the family for nearly three decades.
"They're waiting in the kitchen, if you'd like coffee or breakfast," Francine said as the agents followed Lance toward the door. Mona, still in a bad mood, followed behind.
"Coffee sounds good," Agent Abrams said as Francine stepped aside to allow them to enter.
"I'll take them to the kitchen, Francine," Lance told her.
The dishes had been cleared away and Ari was drinking another cup of coffee when Lance led the agents into the kitchen. One was human—the other—wasn't. Ari's eyes narrowed at the female agent, who was probably a coyote in her other form—had to be coyote, Ari decided. Ari's nose was good enough to tell that much.
The coyote shifter had stopped dead in h
er tracks the moment she'd stepped into the kitchen—she'd finally understood that she wasn't the only shifter on the premises, and the shifters around her were all larger predators.
"Have a seat," Val slid off his barstool, eyeing Agent Abrams with a frown. "Time to get down to business, eh?"
"You're ah, Ari Leone? Laronda Abrams," Agent Abrams held out a hand to shake with Ari. "It's okay—Agent Reeves knows what I am."
Chapter Five
"Who knew that meeting bigger predators would bring out their best manners?" Mona whispered to Lance as they watched Nico and Ari talking to Abrams and Reeves in the family room, while Burke listened in.
"I had no idea the FBI had manners," Lance shrugged, lifting his coffee cup for another sip. "All of them I've met have been abrupt at best, and downright nasty at their worst."
"Janie says Abrams is a coyote. Maybe our esteemed agent knows a mountain lion could have her for breakfast."
"Except Ari wouldn't."
"Abrams doesn't know that."
"Ari does."
"You always did have a knack for reading people." Mona fist-bumped Lance.
"Where do you suppose those dead people went after they jumped off those tankers and the cruise ship?" Lance asked.
"I don't know, but I sure as hell wouldn't go fishing down there right now. I wouldn't board one of those ship without protective gear, either—not for ten million dollars. You think they'll just walk ashore come nightfall, and wander down the street looking for more victims?"
"No idea, although if somebody played Thriller, maybe they'd all start dancing."
"Well, nothing else appears to be working," Mona drawled.
Lance's phone vibrated in his pocket; pulling it out, he saw the call was from Belwether. "I'll take this outside," he said and walked away.
Mona heard his voice fade as he spoke with their Captain and walked toward the back door.
"We're just as confused as anyone else about all this," Ari told Reeves. "Until one of them kicked down my back door, I'd never thought it possible."
"So far, the only way to stop them is by decapitation," Laronda Abrams admitted. "The one you ah, attacked, finally lost his head at the ME's office. He's out of commission, but there are three others there now, causing problems."
"All three were members of Dallas PD," Reeves explained. "They apparently came in contact with the first one, or another we haven't found, yet. The store clerks—their case has been handled already."
"Have you looked into passenger manifests—for anyone traveling here from Spain?" Burke asked. "Mona thinks all this is connected, somehow."
"We're going through those, now," Reeves said. "So far, our team hasn't gotten back to us with the information."
"I'd look at those who came and didn't go back," Nico observed. "I mean, that would make sense, that somebody who can still think is running this show."
Reeves and Abrams exchanged a look before turning back to Nico and Ari. "We've come to the same conclusion," Abrams admitted. "None of these zombies can speak or think. That means they're following orders. Somebody else really is behind this."
Seeing movement from the corner of her eye, Ari turned to watch as Mac rubbed his beak on the back of Nico's chair, as if he were doing whatever he could to keep it shut. Then, he lifted a leg and scratched behind his ear before ruffling his feathers. He knew something; she was sure of it.
How did one go about bribing a bird to talk?
"What we've seen, too, so far, is that whatever affects these—zombies," Reeves said the word as if he found it outside the realm of anyone's reality, "is highly contagious. How did you avoid being affected by it," he asked Ari. "Can we assume that others like you can also avoid it?"
He was asking her if shifters were immune. "Agent Reeves, I consider myself extremely lucky in this regard. Do not assume others like me will be unaffected," her voice and her eyes were hard as she stared at him.
"All right," Reeves made a note on a small pad. "Do you have further questions, Laronda?" He turned toward Agent Abrams.
"Not now. I would like to give you our direct cell phone numbers, in case there's anything else you need to tell us."
"Okay." Ari accepted cards from both agents. Burke rose to see them to the door. Ari saw Lance sidle into the room after Burke and the agents left, rejoining Mona before approaching her and Nico.
"We have to take them back, or we'd stay for lunch," Mona said. "Thanks for doing this—we really couldn't wiggle out of it."
"Not a problem," Nico shrugged. "I don't think they know the proper questions to ask about any of this, yet."
"Neither do we," Mona confessed. "Look, take care of yourselves. If anything happens, we'll let you know."
"Thank you," Ari said.
After they left, Nico released a pent-up breath. "Do you think they'll have to decapitate those dead officers?" he asked.
"Yes," Mac croaked.
Claudio read through several messages from trusted sources. As of now, there were incidents confirmed in Corpus Christi, Austin and Dallas. More could crop up at any moment. So far, there was little information from mainstream media, but that wouldn't last long.
Once word got out, along with images, the madness would engulf the entire country. There wasn't any way for local law enforcement or the FBI to keep a lid on this; it was designed that way.
In the past, strange events such as these tended to be regional, long before modern technology came along. Now, with live feeds constantly reaching viral status, it couldn't be contained within a region.
And, since all events in the past had occurred on foreign soil, Claudio had no idea whether the power which held the enemy partially in check would unravel completely.
The last reported sighting of the raven had been in France—until things began to happen in Texas. Somewhere, in the second largest state of the US, a black bird was likely searching for something important, just as Claudio did.
As long as the raven remained a raven, Claudio wouldn't panic.
No, panic was reserved for the unusual circumstances which allowed the raven to become a man.
"Let's see," Claudio seldom spoke to himself, but it seemed like a good idea on this night. "The first incident was reported in Dallas. Shall we study those events while we arrange a flight to DFW?"
"Yes. That is a fine idea," he replied.
"Apparently the FBI is going along with the idea that you're missing under suspicious circumstances," Janie told Ari at dinner. "They're clearing out the gallery and packing it up as evidence. You should have all your canvases and art supplies delivered here in the next two days."
"Thank goodness," Ari said. "I need to ship that commission in the next three weeks or I won't get the rest of the money."
"I hope you're officially found by then," Val said.
"Officially found would be awesome," Nico sighed. "I'm worried that won't be the case."
Ari turned a worried look in Nico's direction. "Just a feeling," he said. "I didn't mean to upset you."
"If you have concerns about your business or expenses, Burke can handle it for you," Val told Ari. "He can hold off the people on the commission, telling them the painting is in the FBI's possession."
"That's not a good thing," Ari replied. "It could damage my reputation as an artist, too, if that information gets around."
"I'm sure it'll work out," Janie said sympathetically. "Let's not worry about that until we have to, all right?"
"All right." Ari went back to her dinner. It was good advice; Ari didn't know whether her mind would accept it, however, and allow her to sleep at night rather than obsessing about it.
"I'm just looking forward to painting with Ari," Nico said. "I learned more from her than from my college art professor. She gave me good advice on the composition for my final project."
"Nico started working in my studio on weekends when he was sixteen," Ari said. "Since the gallery was across the street from Blue Taco, he'd come in all the time and we'd talk ab
out the work on the walls. When he mentioned that he'd gotten paint on his bedroom carpet at home and was in trouble with his mother, I told him he was welcome to work in my studio. There's plenty of space, and the concrete floors in the back are perfect for an artist."
"The basement has concrete floors," Janie said brightly. "We'll just roll up the area rugs and the space is yours."
"Normally it's only used as a tornado shelter," Val said, grabbing another roll from the basket. "We made it comfortable; it has a radio and television down there, along with a fridge, a bathroom, a sofa and some extra chairs."
"That's in case we ever got stuck down there," Janie explained. "If the house collapses above us, the basement is reinforced to hold up under that until somebody can dig us out."
"We only had one of those garage shelters," Nico said. "It was tiny, but we could all fit in there if we needed it."
"Those save lives," Val agreed. "And they're better suited for people in cities."
"I had nothing," Ari wrinkled her nose at Nico. "Except a bathroom in the middle of the house. It was built in the seventies, and only has a carport instead of a garage."
"Haven't housing costs just skyrocketed?" Janie complained. "I remember when a three-bedroom house in Dallas was actually affordable."
"Burke couldn't believe what Mona paid for her house," Val nodded. "It's nice, but nothing fancy."
"Zom-bees run down. Prop-er-tee price-es," Mac predicted.
"Master Scholar," the co-pilot dipped his head respectfully to Claudio as he stepped aboard the private jet. "You honor us," the co-pilot added.
"Are my guards aboard already?" Claudio asked.
"Of course."
"Thank you for your service on such short notice," Claudio told him. "The Scholarium are grateful."
"Honor and duty," the co-pilot dipped his head again. Claudio mumbled a reply and made his way toward the back of the jet, where two guards waited. He recognized them from last time; one was originally from Spain, the other from France.
Raven, Red Page 6
