Dream Breakers, Oath Takers

by Jacqueline Jayne

  “But why? Why would we be born with such a gift? And what if Rodin never discovered he’d been born with it? It is ridiculous.”

  “Not so ridiculous. Like I said, everyone is blessed in some way.” He nibbled on some cheese and leaned back, engrossed in the role of history teacher. “At one time, Rodin had joined the Congregation of the Blessed Sacrament with the expectation of becoming a priest. He believed that the founder, Saint Peter Julian Eymard, could see into his soul and his future. According to his diary, the priest laid hands on him and actually saw that Rodin would be offered the chance to walk through that portal. Essentially, Eymard set his gift free, but it was up to Rodin to make the choice—to be a complete man or only a shadow of one.

  “After he’d saved his first soul, Rodin all but ran to his confidant at the Directorate of Fine Arts. Together they set out to find more men like Rodin. In time they created a society for helping those lost souls and commissioned Rodin to create The Gates as we now know them.”

  “No wonder I’ve always gotten a chill when I look at them. They are not meant for art’s sake.”

  “Maybe not originally, but Soul Saver and artist couldn’t be separated any easier than distinguishing grains of salt in a bowl of sugar. I believe the more Rodin visited Hell, the more he understood humanity and, therefore, the greater his art.”

  “But he destroyed Camille in the process.” Fresh pain throbbed from within. For a man with so much education, he conveniently skipped over tragedy.

  “I’m sorry.” He looked at her through lowered eyelashes. “I can’t say he didn’t attribute to her madness. She was the first oracle, a gift she was born with but wouldn’t have discovered without Rodin. Probably why she was instinctively drawn to him. It wasn’t just the art or their mutual attraction. And he broke her heart when he chose Rose over her.”

  “He broke her heart,” she said hotly. “But Hell broke her spirit. It wasn’t being jealous of his wife or being dumped that drove her over the edge. It was her visions and all the visits to Hell. And the fact he denied the existence of their children.”

  “Children?” Zane shook his head, ready to correct what he didn’t know. “Rodin and Camille didn’t have any children. Camille aborted the one time she got pregnant.”

  “Well. You are not the perfect history buff after all.” She swallowed a large gulp of her wine and steeled to retell Mamie’s account. “Camille couldn’t go through with the abortion. Instead, she hid her baby bump as long as she could, then went away to give birth.”

  “But you said children.”

  “Twins. A boy and a girl. Her brother arranged for an adoption with another family member.”

  The cowboy flushed. “I didn’t know.”

  “Because you only know his side, the great Rodin,” she spat, gesturing with her hands. “Camille gave them up. For Rodin. And for Hell. In the end, she lost everything. Her family, her lover, her mind, even that so-called gift. If the gift was from God, then God certainly damned her.” Delphine felt the heat from her hairline to her toes. She hated using the Lord’s name and damn in the same sentence. She reached for her wine with trembling fingers.

  He took her shaking hand in both of his, his comfort sinking in deep, and leaned across the table. “No. No. No. Not damned. It was just that she was the first. Everyone was new and naïve back then. And it was so, so hard. She didn’t have anyone to lean on, to learn from. Camille was exceptionally sensitive.”

  “And I am not?” She said it with anger not meant for Zane.

  “I didn’t mean that.” He squeezed his thumbs into the top of her hand while he searched her eyes. “I meant that you have me. To learn from. To lean on. As much as you want.”

  “But I don’t want.” It pained her to pull her hand away, but she took back her hands and hid them beneath the table. To let him hold her would denote weakness, and she was anything but weak. “I don’t want to be trained or become an oracle. I refuse to turn out like Camille.” Tears stung the back of her eyes, but she held her chin up. “Or like my mother. I want my sanity.”

  “Because they couldn’t handle the visions doesn’t mean that you will turn out like them. I don’t know what happened with your ancestor and I’m sorry. But I believe your grandmother is right. Hiding from the gift like she tried to do with your mother won’t keep it from tormenting you. The smartest way to deal with what’s happening is to face it head-on.”

  “Barrel ahead? Like you did when you closed the First Ring?”

  “Look, I don’t know who explained our mission to you. Obviously, they left out a bunch of facts.” He leaned away from her. “But I didn’t know that would happen. None of us did. I went on a rescue mission.”

  “Like the noble cowboy you are. No questions asked. But you had to know there’d be consequences.”

  He straightened in his chair, back stiffening. “I did what I believed was right. I always do and I always will.”

  This time she leaned forward. “And I’m doing what I believe is right. Life is not only about sacrifice. My family has sacrificed enough already. If God wants to save souls from Hell, he will do it.” She stood, pounded back the last of the wine in her glass.

  “We’re how he does it.” With a flick of his wrist, he tossed his napkin to the table and stood, meeting her glare for glare. His voice adopted an edge she hadn’t heard before. “You’d see that except your mind is closed. Do you think the visions are going to stop because you don’t want them? Believe me, the gift is insistent.”

  “I don’t know about the visions being insistent, but I see that you are. You want me to sacrifice my sanity to save a man that chose to live in Hell. What happens to me when you get your friend back, and my mind has been shattered? Will I be tossed aside when I’m no longer useful?”

  “No.” He raised his voice for the first time, and his eyes turned to blue fire. “You’re not going to shatter. No oracle I’ve ever known has lost it. It’s not going to be like that.”

  “You don’t know what it’s going to be like. But I know. I know that when the fear overtook my mother’s every thought, she was locked away. That’s not for me. I want peace and freedom. I want a life.”

  Until she’d shouted the words, Delphine hadn’t realized how long and strong she’d felt them. Shame and guilt warmed her face. She’d never resented her mother for her illness, but her need for independence could no longer be repressed.

  “You can’t do it on your own. We may need you, but you need us just as much.”

  Her laugh exploded without humor. “They have you brainwashed, Cowboy.”

  “I am not brainwashed,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “Ha. If you’re not, then you’re just like them. It’s hard to fathom which is worse.” She took full advantage of his shock. “No. The worst part is, I fell for your act. I thought I’d finally met someone I could talk to. Someone with intelligence, common sense, and a sense of humor. Someone a lot like me.”

  Tears stung the backs of her eyes. Soon she wouldn’t be able to blink them away, but she kept going. “I wanted to get to know the gentle, cultured man beneath the big hat a whole lot better.” Her jaw tightened. “But I’ve no use for a manipulator.” She pointed at him and glared hard through blurry eyes. “Don’t follow me. Leave me alone.”

  She turned on her heel and wound through the scattering of tables, tears spilling over her cheeks. She crossed the street and picked up her pace, spanning half a block in record time. No stopping to hail a cab; he might interpret any pause as an invitation to come after.

  And the last thing Delphine wanted was for the sensitive cowboy to realize how much she wanted him to stop her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Propped up on a stack of pillows, Zane leaned against the hotel bed headboard and mindlessly flipped through the television stations while he stewed. Delphine’s complete refusal of what he considered Holy Orders outraged his sense of duty. Worse still, she crushed his heart.

  “You ain’t gonna f
ind anything,” Boone said without looking up from his book. “Not a single channel in English.”

  “Not really watching.”

  “I know. And it’s annoying. Settle on something for fuck’s sake, or turn it off.” Boone turned his book upside down on the bed and stood, groaning like he’d spent the day branding cattle. “You need to get her outta your head for a while.”

  “Can’t. I failed tonight.” He picked up his cell phone.

  “This was only your first shot.” Boone turned on the floor lamp. “You won’t fail tomorrow. You’ve come up with a pretty solid plan of attack. She’ll join our side.”

  “There are no sides and it’s not an attack.” The phone beeped as he checked for text messages.

  “Semantics. You’re the opposition now.” His brother opened a dresser drawer. “And stop checking your cell every other minute. Jack will call.”

  “It’s after eleven.”

  “Sheesh. Then he’ll call tomorrow. The man’s got a life.” With a lot of thumping, his brother rummaged through the top drawer of the cheap dresser they shared. “Here. I don’t have any history books with me.” He zinged a well-used paperback across the small room.

  Zane caught the book one-handed and then looked at the cover. Year-before-last’s hottest mystery. “Read it.” He tossed it aside onto the bed. “I don’t need a book. What I need are those plane tickets.”

  “So just buy ’em already. You’re not hurtin’ for bucks.” He flicked another book over his shoulder like a rolled pairs of socks, and it hit the foot of the mattress. “You need to occupy your mind.” He fired two more paperbacks at his brother’s head. “That’s all I got.”

  Zane plucked them out of the air one at a time. “It’s not about money, it’s about—”

  “Approval.”

  Annoyed at the dig, he corrected his brother. “I was going to say protocol.”

  “No difference as far as you’re concerned. You follow protocol to obtain approval.”

  “That’s not the reason.”

  “Then fuck protocol and fuck your bruised ego. Follow your gut. It’s not like the Council’s gonna fire your ass for doing your best to sway the oracle. Shit, we don’t actually have jobs to be fired from at this point.”

  “We do as long as I can convince Delphine she won’t lose her mind.” He heaved out a lungful of air. “Shit, Boone. You should have heard her tonight. I know under all her anger, under all her fear, she’d do the right thing. But she wasn’t the same woman I’d spent—”

  “The last two days moonin’ over?” Boone rolled his eyes and shook his head.

  “Wasn’t mooning.”

  “No ‘was’ about it. You got it bad. And it’s mucking up your noodle.”

  “Who do you think you’re talking to? I’m the rational one here.”

  “Not today. You’re overthinking. Even a little obsessed.” He leaned his ass against the drawer to close it and stayed put. “And I get it. You were knocked for a loop. So, I’m gonna walk you through the simple facts.”

  A fake laugh busted from deep in his chest. “Facts? You? The hothead? You always react first and ask questions later.”

  Boone held up a hand. “Because I’m willing to shut up some jerk with a left hook doesn’t mean I’m wrong.” With a frown, he leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Believe it or not, I am as smart as you. Now, remove yourself from the situation and examine the facts. Easy way—we’ll back up time. Let’s just say you hadn’t met Delphine before today. The old lady barges into the meeting, and you’re handed the same assignment. You meet the oracle for the first time at dinner. Sure she’s smokin’ but carries a big resentment chip on her shoulder. Ask yourself, how would you have handled her refusal under those circumstances? And would you be this upset?”

  “Of course I would be upset.”

  “Liar.” His brother leaned forward. “Without a doubt, you’d be frustrated because we need her, and sympathetic because that’s your nature. But not hang-dog sad or pissed off. Instead of considering another meeting after she’s had time to cool down, the first thing you did was call Dad to get the guest house ready.”

  Zane could feel the heat of anger rising to his face.

  His brother tapped his temple with one finger. “Your mind shifted right into overdrive, searching for a way to keep her close. Your big plan is to take her home. Our home.” He patted his chest and then pointed at the hotel door. “Halfway across the globe from here. Like she’s your girlfriend instead of a stranger that needs educating.”

  “She needs space as much as educating, and home is the best use of space in the world. George agreed with me and offered to help.” Zane didn’t remember getting to his feet, but he bore down on his shorter twin with a hard stare. “Why are you giving me shit? You just said this was a solid plan.”

  “It is.” Boone looked up at him, more relaxed than he should be after needling him. “But even a solid plan can face plant if the manipulator forgets to be detached. And you, brother,” he clapped a hand onto Zane’s shoulder, “are not detached.”

  “I suppose you have advice on that topic too.”

  “Of course. Seduce her. Sex her up until you’re both wasted.”

  “You just gave me shit for being hung up on her, and now you want me to follow through?”

  “Not the same. You’re out of whack because you inadvertently started a relationship. Stick to your base desires. She’s got ’em too, and from what I can see, you both need to let loose.”

  “That’s always your solution. Let loose.”

  “Release sexual tension, and you’ll release the mind. Trust me because it’s gonna get really crazy really fast for a virgin Hell Runner. She’ll need her wits. Bare minimum, George will perform a dream break.”

  “No way around it.” Zane shrugged. “I’d have to perform the process alone if we stayed here.”

  “So take one for the team. If you don’t, I will.”

  He chose to ignore his brother’s crass offer. “First off, a dream break isn’t that bad. With or without George’s help, she’ll be fine with me.”

  “Provided you get her on the plane.”

  “She’ll go.” He had another fib ready to tell. Zane hung his head, a little ashamed he would have to trick Delphine. But it was for the greater good, and he believed deeply in his soul it was for her good too. “There’s an old proverb, ‘tell me, and I may forget, show me and I may not remember—’”

  “‘Involve me, and I’ll understand,’” Boone finished. “So how are you going to involve her? Can’t take her into Hell and demonstrate Soul Saving now even if you had her consent.”

  He sighed, hating the half-lie he’d concocted. “She wants to be rid of the nightmares. I’m going to tell her the dream break will alleviate them. Which is true, but only if she accepts being an oracle.”

  Boone cringed. “Dangerous business, bro. In theory, it should work. But we’re not talking about getting people to volunteer for the soup kitchen. This is Hell. More than a few good runners who started out—all down with the program—quit because their minds couldn’t withstand the constant torment.”

  “She’s strong and intelligent,” Zane said. “It will work.”

  His brother unfolded his arms. “I’m sure it will. But prepare yourself. When you win her over as an oracle, you will probably lose her. She’ll hate you for duping her. Again, I’m telling you, get some distance.”

  “I can’t be distant and win her over. The wounded need to trust. Without it, they won’t heal. Part A of this trip is to bond as friends. I’m not walking her off that plane and taking her right to the Crow reservation. I think we both could use a little vacation time. Get in some horseback riding and hiking and maybe hit the rodeo—”

  “So you are going to get into her pants first.” His brother’s crooked grin pissed him off.

  “I’m not trying to get in her pants at all.” Zane backed up all the way to his bed to keep from smacking the grin off Boo
ne’s face. “Not anymore.”

  “Fine. If you’re gonna play the self-righteous hypocrite, then you won’t mind if I come along. I’d be more than happy to rock her world.”

  Zane winged one of the books at him, and his grinning brother deflected it with an arm. “She’s too tall for you, short-stuff.”

  “I’m a good climber. Besides, horizontal is the great equalizer.”

  “Stay out of my way,” Zane warned through gritted teeth.

  “Whoa.” Boone laughed and held up both palms, waving him off. “I don’t hit on your girls, bro.”

  “Now who’s lying?” Without thinking, his fingers flexed into loose fists.

  “Not anymore. I’m one-year clean.”

  Zane narrowed his sights and bore a truth-telling laser into his brother.

  “Six months at least. And I did you a favor with the last one. Couldn’t hold an intelligent conversation about the movie we’d just watched, let alone Sarte.” Cock-eyed grin in place, his brother sensibly backed toward his own bed.

  Much as he wanted to smack Boone, a fight over women he didn’t care about wouldn’t make him feel better. He shoved both hands through his hair. “This is hard enough without us fighting.”

  “Okay. I’m out of it. You’re right to take your time. She’s complicated, and to quote my overly educated brother—all people have many sides. Even ones they don’t know they have until pressured. Including you.”

  Shithead was right. Fight averted, Zane sat on the edge of the bed and glanced at the tattered paperbacks scattered on the rumpled blankets. The one with curlicue lettering and a landscape in lavender hues contrasted sharply from the dark cityscapes of the two other mysteries. Surprised, he held it up. “Why the hell do you have this? It’s a romance.”

  “It’s a dissection of the female psyche, including smokin’ hot sex,” he said with a sly grin. “It’s good training for the ladies.”