Raven, Red

by Connie Suttle

  "Who only rescued others like themselves," Mac shook his head. "They left many more behind to be tortured and killed."

  "Sadly, that is also true. The auto de fe is a horrible thing to witness."

  "I searched for two years before the next Custodian arrived," Mac noted. "Much had to be accomplished before the witch trials were ended in the area."

  "It takes years to stop it completely," Claudio said. "Only to have it flare up again when the stone is between Custodians."

  "One of my concerns is that the country is already experiencing instability and division," Mac pointed out. "This will only make things worse."

  "My worry is that the Unrepentant will cross the sea."

  "They send their human minions—I have never seen them cross before," Mac countered.

  "The Custodian has never been given the stone in another country."

  Mac closed his eyes for a moment as if this piece of information didn't sit well. He knew the Scholar was correct—before, in every case, the transfer had occurred on Spanish soil. Never had it traveled so far, and then been transferred to another afterward.

  "This bears thinking about," he rolled his shoulders as if attempting to find a more comfortable way to accept what Claudio said.

  "The stone came to the boy's mother, did it not? On Spanish soil. I feel she was pulled to stay there and was caught between it and her love of Nico and his father."

  "Did she know, then, that she would pass the stone to Nico upon her arrival in Texas? He says she gave the stone to him shortly after her return."

  "She is dead; we cannot question her."

  "The boy is the youngest Custodian on record."

  "I know that well. Ari is also the first woman chosen as a Protector. I hope this is a good sign."

  "As do I, although I have doubts as to her suitability."

  "Arianne is also the first chosen shapeshifter," Renault observed. "She may bring something new to that role."

  Mac exchanged a glance with Claudio; it was obvious he also had doubts but didn't disagree aloud with Renault.

  "You bought enough phones?" Claudio changed the subject. Ari and Nico were walking down the steps into the basement for the meeting.

  "Yes. From three shops, so as not to appear suspicious," Mac said, turning to watch Nico and Ari enter the room.

  "Please, sit," Claudio invited the new arrivals to make themselves comfortable. "Mac says you have news for us regarding events earlier."

  "I doubt they got a good look at me; they were focused on Janie and Mac," Nico sighed as he flopped onto a chair. "Still, the Franks may recall that I was there, and someone out of the ordinary to be with Janie."

  "Never a good thing," Claudio acknowledged. "Was there a confrontation?"

  "Yes," Mac replied. "Denton Franks demanded that Janie give him her automobile insurance information, to pay for the damage to his truck on Jordan property. I made a counteroffer."

  "What was the counteroffer?"

  "That Denton write a check for the difference in the cost of the heifer his father killed, minus the amount to fix his truck. He wasn't pleased," Ari supplied.

  "Ari was so pissed, I think she could have ripped both men apart with her bare hands," Nico mused.

  "Did you join the conversation?" Claudio asked Ari.

  "No. Janie told me she'd handle it. Turns out, Mac handled it."

  "How do you feel about that?"

  "Frustrated."

  "I see."

  "Are you pissed that I handled it?" Mac asked coolly, turning dark eyes in her direction.

  "No. You did the best thing possible. It's just that every time I see either of those men, my blood boils."

  "Understandable," Claudio dipped his head. "You did the right thing, by remaining silent."

  "I'll try not to read too much misogyny into that statement," Ari snipped.

  "There was none intended," Claudio sighed. "You have been wronged by one of those men, and now have his son to deal with as well. Protect yourself, Lady Lion. You know firsthand how dangerous humans can be to all of us in this room."

  "I'm sorry I called you a misogynist," Ari mumbled.

  "It is forgotten already," Claudio waved off her apology. "We must work together to combat what is coming. A division in the ranks will kill us all."

  "Should we relocate, Master Scholar?" Alejandro asked.

  "Not yet. I believe Nico has a mission for us."

  "Yeah. We have to find Hunter Pace Jr. He's in danger."

  "Are there time constraints?" Claudio asked.

  "We have to get him away before Sunday," Nico replied. "After that, it will be too late."

  "Burke Jordan knows where the boy is," Mac said. "We'll have that information soon enough. I suggest we go Saturday evening to warn the boy and his aunt."

  "Will they believe us?" Renault asked.

  "I sure hope so. This may be our first clash with the Adversary, and we need to stay out of his sight as long as possible. We're not ready, yet, as you are well aware."

  Chapter Nine

  "Is this the best copy you have?" Senator Cheatham spoke with Reverend Killebrew on his private cell phone.

  "It's the best copy we could make of the original."

  "Do you have the original?"

  "I can get to it."

  "I'd like to speak with the person who recorded it—might they be the same source?"

  "Oh, yeah. I can arrange a meeting for sure. He may want a little cash, you understand."

  "How about I buy it from him for a thousand. Will that do? I want full rights to it, so he'll have to sign a release."

  "He'd do it for a hundred," Killebrew said.

  "I'll offer a thousand—and no questions asked."

  "Good enough. When can I get the two of you together?"

  "Sunday morning service? I'd like to join the congregation for your sermon."

  "Then we'll look forward to meeting you in person, Senator."

  "See you Sunday, Reverend." Cheatham ended the call.

  "You think the zombie thing has run its course?" Lance handed a coffee to Del Reeves, who sat at a borrowed desk at the precinct. "We haven't had a new attack in two days."

  "I wouldn't bet on anything in this mess. Two days sounds like a reprieve, in my estimation," Del replied.

  "Giving us enough time to get some paperwork done before the next round?" Lance sat heavily on a nearby chair.

  "That's one way to look at it."

  "There you are," Mona walked in with Laronda, each carrying a specialty coffee from a shop down the street.

  "Croissant? We got enough for all of us." Laronda held up a paper bag.

  "Don't mind if I do," Lance grinned.

  "How's the kid doing?" Mona asked as she bit into her croissant.

  "Janie says things are okay, but Nico may have been seen by the neighbors yesterday," Lance mumbled around a mouthful of food.

  "How did that happen?" Del asked.

  "Long story," Lance replied. "Turned into a bit of a mess. And, speaking of turning, we ought to go back to the ranch this afternoon."

  "New development?" Laronda turned an inquisitive gaze on Lance.

  "You could say that. I want to ask Mac a lot of questions."

  "You're going to interrogate the bird?"

  "In a manner of speaking. If you want to tag along, Janie says we're invited to dinner."

  "Dinner sounds heavenly," Mona stuffed the last corner of her croissant into her mouth.

  "Barring a new zombie attack, I'm in," Laronda agreed.

  "Me, too," Del said.

  "I'll let Janie know." Lance pulled the cell phone from his pocket to make the call.

  "Renault said there was no activity from the Franks' house last night, and that the stench from the cattle shifted with the wind," Mac reported at breakfast.

  "Lance, Mona and the feds are coming for dinner tonight," Janie told him. "Lance wants to talk to you."

  "Of course he does."

  "I think yo
u should tell him about Hunter Jr." Ari sipped her coffee. "Just in case."

  "There's an idea," Mac considered Ari's suggestion. "Janie, do you think Lance and Mona would go with us? It may be difficult convincing the boy and his aunt."

  "You can ask—I have no idea what their answer may be," Janie told him.

  "Even if they don't go, I think it's better that somebody with authority knows where we went, just in case," Ari explained.

  "Not a bad idea. Val will go with you if you ask him. The boy should recognize his own kind, after all," Janie said.

  "Good idea," Mac nodded at Janie. "I'll ask Val."

  "The other thing is this—the full moon is Sunday night. I get the feeling the kid needs a pack around him this time," Nico spoke up.

  "You think he's had to go out on his own?"

  "For around two years," Nico nodded. "I've never been a fan of coffee, but it's growing on me now," he lifted his cup to Janie.

  "Mary Kate makes the best," Janie grinned.

  "I'm worried."

  Hunter whirled to face his Aunt. He'd lived with her ever since his mother passed, two years after his father's death.

  He barely remembered either of them and was still unclear about how, exactly, his father died.

  His mother—nobody ever said it directly to him, but his sharp hearing had caught the word suicide on several occasions. He'd come into his heritage, or so Aunt Catherine called it, two years earlier.

  He was a werewolf. Aunt Catherine homeschooled him and told him many times that he should never be ashamed of what he was or who his parents were.

  He felt isolated most of the time, and, upon occasion, understood completely the path his mother chose for herself.

  "What are you worried about?" Hunter asked.

  "Just—strange vibes," she shivered.

  She shouldn't be shivering—not in this heat.

  "The moon makes me feel troubled, and it shouldn't," she added. "I have a new wand set out to charge, and it needs positive energy. Right now, I feel exactly the opposite."

  "What do you think it is?"

  Hunter sat on the edge of the front porch, swinging his legs in the shade of a tall elm. Aunt Cathy sat on the porch swing nearby, looking worried.

  The breeze lifted low-hanging elm branches, bringing a familiar scent to Hunter's sensitive nose. "Joe's on his way," he announced.

  "I hope he knows what this is," Cathy hugged herself. "I hope he's read the cards and can tell me something."

  Joe walked into view; Hunter could see him down the rutted, dirt road leading to Catherine Charles' rural home.

  Joe spoke to spirits, according to Catherine, but he'd never spoken to Hunter about his parents. Joe also read tarot cards and was accurate in his readings—if they were interpreted properly, that is.

  "Want iced tea?" Catherine stood and made the offer the moment Joe could hear her question.

  "I'd take tea," he said and continued walking toward the porch.

  The storm door slammed as Catherine went inside to get tea for Joe.

  Hunter watched as Joe settled into the rocking chair near the front door, content to wait for the offered cold drink.

  "Yard looks good," Joe said.

  "Mowed and trimmed yesterday," Hunter replied.

  "Went past Erly's place—he needs a machete to get to his car, looks like."

  "Erly's not crazy about mowing. Or unannounced visitors—or going to town. I think he's still eating off that deer I brought him six months ago."

  "Meat and beans, that's Erly," Joe made himself more comfortable in the rocking chair.

  "He just needs looking after, now and then."

  "Hmmph," Joe rocked himself for a few seconds. Catherine returned with his tea, which he took and drank deeply.

  "You need me for this conversation?" Hunter dropped off the porch.

  "I doubt it," Catherine told him. "Why?"

  "I'll go help Erly with his yard work." Hunter loped away before his aunt could stop him.

  "He's bored silly," Catherine sighed as she watched Hunter travel down the driveway at a swift pace.

  "He's why I came," Joe said. "I had an itch to read the cards this morning. I think he may be in some kind of danger. I think he ought to leave, Cath."

  "And just where will he go?" Catherine demanded. "He's sixteen. He needs schooling, still, and because of what he is," she didn't finish.

  "He needs to be with his own kind," Joe pointed out.

  "I don't see a pack of wolves banging on the door, do you? What, exactly, did you see in that reading?"

  "That he's in danger, and that danger will include us, if he stays."

  "Right. Are you sure you interpreted the message correctly?"

  "That's the best I can do for now."

  "If I remember right, you didn't want to include him in the circle two years ago."

  "I've changed my mind about that," Joe admitted.

  "But now? You say he needs to leave? What am I supposed to think? That a year from now, after he's gone to who knows where, you'll say you were wrong again?"

  "Catherine, I came to tell you what I saw in the reading. I can see you're not ready for any truth I can give you." Joe set his empty glass on the porch beside the rocking chair and rose to leave.

  "How soon?" Catherine called after him as he stalked away from the house.

  "Soon." Joe continued his journey with a half wave.

  Catherine's landline rang, pulling her away from the porch. Muttering to herself, she went into the house to answer it.

  "Hello?" she said.

  "Catherine? This is Burke Jordan," came the reply. "I'm calling about Hunter."

  Here was the pack of wolves she'd dismissed earlier. Years ago, when she took Hunter in as his closest kin, there were other offers.

  Offers from his own kind, that she'd refused or ignored. After Joe's warning, she still didn't want to listen.

  "Catherine? Are you still there?" Burke's voice broke her away from her thoughts.

  "I'm here." She wiped a tear from her cheek and forced herself to listen carefully to Burke's words.

  "Burke's done what he can," Janie said. "The rest is up to you," she told Mac. "He told Catherine Charles that he'd find a place for her, too, if she wanted to come along. He doesn't think she will."

  "She's in danger, too," Nico shrugged. "All her neighbors are."

  "Then you'll have to tell her that," Janie said.

  "Lance and Mona are here with those FBI folks," Francine poked her head through the game room door. "Cars just pulled in."

  "I'll be down in a minute," Janie said.

  "We'll come with you—they have questions," Mac pulled Nico to his feet and followed Janie to the elevator.

  "Is Ari downstairs?" Nico asked as they loaded into the small elevator and pressed the button to take them to the ground floor.

  "She was in her bedroom when I came up," Janie replied as they traveled downward.

  "Try to reach her," Mac suggested.

  Nico closed his eyes while Janie watched, fascinated. "What is he doing?" Janie whispered to Mac.

  "He and Ari should have a connection already. It's time to start testing whether she can hear him—telepathy, you'd call it."

  "How is that possible?" Janie frowned. "Wait; never mind." She held up a hand to stave off the explanation—or the excuse for not providing one.

  "Mac and I have been able to connect recently," Nico turned toward Janie. "Ari still can't hear me."

  "I'll be honest," Janie said as the elevator came to a stop and the door opened. "Lately, I feel as if I'm living in an alternate reality."

  Nico and Mac exchanged a glance before following Janie toward the front door.

  "Ari, good to see you," Lance greeted her. "Val, thanks for inviting us," he nodded to his cousin, who stood beside Ari at the front door.

  "Come on in," Val invited Lance and the others. "Dinner will be ready in a few. Would you like a drink beforehand? We have lemonade and a variety o
f the harder stuff."

  "A drink sounds great," Del said, shaking hands with Val. "Thank you."

  "This way, then." Val led them into the area to the left of the front door, where the wet bar stood at one end. Built with a western theme, the bar had ranch-related antiques on the walls and leather barstools lined up along its length.

  "What will it be, then?" Val stepped behind the bar.

  "I can help," Ari followed his lead.

  "Scotch if you have it—on the rocks," Del requested.

  "We have Johnny Walker, Glenlivet and Macallan," Val said. "Your choice."

  "I'll take Glenlivet," Del said.

  "Glass of wine?" Mona asked Ari.

  "Red, white or blush?" Ari asked.

  "What would you recommend?"

  "Pinot noir, maybe. It's on the dry side, though. If you want something sweeter, Janie has some Moscato and some Riesling."

  "I'll have the Pinot," Laronda said.

  "I'll take some of that, too," Mona agreed.

  "Lance wants an old fashioned, unless I'm badly mistaken," Val set a glass of Scotch in front of Del.

  "You got it," Lance agreed. "Hard to find one better than what you make."

  "Aren't you going to join us?" Mona asked Ari as she set two glasses of Pinot noir out for Mona and Laronda.

  "No—I already feel like I'm losing my mind—alcohol would probably make it worse."

  "Losing your mind in what way?" Mona sipped her wine and nodded. "Good choice," she told Laronda.

  "I could have sworn I heard Nico's voice in my head, earlier, telling me to answer the front door. Weird, huh?"

  "Can't argue with that, I suppose," Laronda said. "I've never heard anybody talking in my head except me."

  "Lara," Del shortened her name in a familiar way, "there's no room in there for anybody else," he teased.

  "Says the man who irons his boxers," Laronda teased back.

  "My mother always told me to wear clean underwear in case I was in an accident," Del grinned. "Neat and tidy was her motto."

  "She was an awesome woman," Laronda held up her glass to toast with Del.

  "Yes, she was," Del agreed, clinking his glass against Laronda's. "She adored you."