The Passion Season

by Libby Doyle

  Zan was checking her weapon when she heard Rainer’s voice.

  “My love, you’re all right. What a relief.” She wheeled to find a pale-faced Rainer standing right behind her. She stared at him, blinking.

  Has stress made me hallucinate?

  “Zan? You’re all right, aren’t you?”

  “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  “Yeah, what the fuck?” Mel scowled at him.

  “I heard about the standoff on the news,” Rainer said. “I was worried about you.”

  “Get your ass behind the perimeter!” Zan yelled, pointing. “What is wrong with you?” She grabbed his arm and began to pull him toward the yellow tape.

  “But, Zan, I—”

  “Shut up! I’m about to raid a house filled with armed men,” she said, continuing to pull him. “Which officer let you in here?”

  “That one, but he—”

  “Shut up! You, um, Officer Lopez,” Zan said, reading his nameplate. “Why did you let this civilian past the perimeter?”

  “Oh, shit,” Lopez said. “I’m sorry, Agent O’Gara. He said he was with you, and I, uh, he seemed like he had some kind of authority and I, uh, I didn’t think I could stop him.” The young officer seemed scared and embarrassed.

  “It’s okay, Officer Lopez, I know what he’s like,” she said, glaring at Rainer. “You take him to the end of the street. If he refuses to cooperate, tase him. Understood?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “We’ll talk about this later,” Zan said to Rainer, walking back toward the tactical agents.

  As he meekly followed Officer Lopez to the end of the street, Barakiel tried to apologize. Lopez just told him to stay behind the line of officers, then walked away. Once he was gone, Barakiel went a block farther down the street, then around the side of another house. He concealed himself the way Pellus had taught him. Although he could never use a technique as sophisticated as the adept, it worked well enough as long as he kept focus. Unlike Pellus and his curtains of refracted light, all Barakiel did was hold some of the energy he constantly gathered to himself a certain distance from his body to create a type of mirror. Anyone looking closely could detect something off-kilter, but most humans were remarkably unobservant.

  This is what I should have done to begin with. I was not thinking clearly.

  Concealed, Barakiel loped back to Zan’s location. Before long she and Mel and a group of heavily armed men wearing helmets and boots walked along the far side of a house a little farther down the street. Barakiel dashed along the side of the next house and emerged in the back. He saw the team make its way to the yard of the target house along the outside edge of the fence surrounding the neighboring yard. Once they were in place they waited. Barakiel positioned himself at the edge of the yard where they stood. If something terrible happened, he would save her.

  Why is Zan here at all? Those warriors should do it themselves.

  Soon there was an explosion of gunfire and shouting that stopped about 20 seconds later, only to resume inside the house. The tactical agents prepared to crash the rear door and rush in. Mel and Zan were behind them, but before they entered, Zan stopped and looked up. Barakiel followed her gaze. A man was climbing out of the third-story window into the tree at the side of the house, a tree that grew from behind the white plastic fence surrounding the neighbor’s yard. Zan grabbed Mel by the arm and pointed. Mel nodded and followed the tactical team into the house.

  Flipping quietly over the fence, Zan crouched behind a large azalea bush, her weapon drawn. Barakiel could see through the leaves that the man in the tree had a gun. This worried him, but he decided he should wait. He could see the man’s face. He could tell if he noticed Zan crouching there. If he did, Rainer would be on him in a blink.

  Guardian save me, I cannot take this.

  A minute later, the man dropped to the ground several feet from the azalea bush, his back to Zan. She bounded toward him. As he turned in surprise, gun in hand, Zan shouted, “FBI!” She pistol whipped him in the head as she knocked the gun out of his hand. She hooked his ankle with her foot and pushed his shoulder away from her, bringing him face first to the ground. She jumped on his back to cuff him. He was subdued inside fifteen seconds.

  To think I was so worried about her.

  After she had him cuffed, Zan hauled the criminal to his feet, picked up his gun and walked toward the gate. Barakiel ran back to the end of the street and watched her hand the man off to another agent. She stared anxiously at the house.

  Barakiel did not hear any more gunfire, so whatever had transpired inside was over. A few minutes later a string of five tactical agents came out, each pushing a criminal. Mel emerged at the end of the string and shouted to a medical team, which ran into the house. She spoke to two other agents, who also went into the house. Mel joined Zan then, speaking rapidly. With his acute hearing, Barakiel was able to zero in on Mel’s words, excluding the ambient noise. He couldn’t hear everything she said from that distance, but he heard enough to know that some of the criminals were dead and some agents had been shot, but they would probably be all right. Zan patted Mel on the back. Barakiel exhaled and let the tension flow out of him.

  She is all right. It is over. I will call her.

  When Barakiel called Zan, she told him to go home, that she would come over later when she was finished with her work. He worried about the anger in her voice, even after her successful operation. Day turned to evening and still, Barakiel waited, pacing on his balcony. Some cats had come to keep him company. They followed his movements with a slight swaying of their heads.

  Where is she? She is punishing me.

  When he heard her car pull up around 8:30, he jumped over the railing to the ground and headed to the front. The cats walked to the edge of the balcony to watch him go.

  In the dying light, he stood near the edge of the main building as she parked and got out of the car. Neither of them said anything as she approached. She stopped a few feet in front of him, her expression rigid.

  “You’re still angry,” he said.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry, Zan. I heard a report on the radio about an armed standoff and I flew into a panic. I didn’t think at all about what I was doing. I just reacted. When I got there and saw you were all right, I wanted to talk to you. Touch you. I didn’t think.”

  “Yeah, you sure as hell didn’t think.” Zan walked a few steps to the left. “If Mel hadn’t been the agent in charge, I’d be in a heap of trouble right now.”

  “I’m sorry. I should have known your superiors would be displeased.”

  Zan shot him a cold look. “And you know what’s worse? Do you know what you made me look like? All those tactical guys standing around and my fucking boyfriend comes to check on me? I felt like a jackass. It’s hard enough for a woman to be taken seriously as a field agent, so thanks, thanks a bunch.”

  “Doesn’t it help that you apprehended a criminal singlehandedly?” he asked.

  “How do you know that?” She eyed him suspiciously.

  “When you led him out, I saw you,” Barakiel said. “I was standing at the end of the street. You were alone when you came out with him so I assumed you apprehended him.”

  “I did, but no one really noticed. They did notice you though,” Zan said, flinging her hand to point at him. “A few of the more good-old-boy agents had great fun at my expense.”

  Barakiel tried to grab her hands but she yanked them away.

  “How would you like it if I showed up unannounced at one of your business meetings? If I said, ‘Oh, hey Rainer. I was worried about your negotiation skills.’ Would you like that? Hmmm?” She cocked her head as her cheeks grew crimson. “Not that I could ever do it, because you tell me absolutely nothing about your business meetings. I’m lucky if I know what fucking city they’re in. You act like that shit is none of my business, yet you have the nerve to show up at my job? In what universe is that okay? This is my career, Rainer. I take it seriously
.”

  “I know you do. I’ll get better at handling this sort of thing. This was the first time I knew you were in danger. I wanted to protect you. I couldn’t help it.”

  “Protect me?” Zan snorted. “Look, you may be gigantic and kind of a badass, but you’re a civilian. I’m the one with the gun and the badge. You don’t protect me. I protect you,” she said, punctuating each of her last three words with a stab of her finger.

  If only you knew, my love.

  “Zan, please forgive me.” Barakiel took a step toward her. “The next time, this anxiety will be more familiar. I’ll deal with it. It won’t happen again.” He tilted his head, asking her to soften with a contrite smile.

  “You’re not going to charm me into forgiving you,” she said.

  By this time a few of the cats had come down from the balcony to sit behind Barakiel. They regarded Zan placidly.

  “I don’t want you to forgive me because I’m charming. I want you to forgive me because I’m sorry and because now, I understand.” He gestured to the cats behind him. “You see, the cats think you should relent.”

  A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, but she shook her head. “What were you thinking? How could you not know to stay away from there?”

  “I wasn’t thinking. I worry about you so desperately. I’ll control my feelings, but I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you.” He looked at her with his special brand of intensity. “You’re so central to my life. You are the center of my life.”

  “Oh,” Zan squeaked. Her eyes softened. Barakiel put his fingertips lightly on her face and slid them down to her neck as he kissed her, his tongue lingering between her parted lips. He wrapped his arms around her and ran his hands over her back, wanting to savagely cover her mouth but holding back, instead delivering gentle pecks. Zan responded, pressing herself into his body. Barakiel felt the same surge that contact with Zan always gave him—a diffuse, warm power, so unlike the energy he felt on any other occasion. Immensely strong, yet not aggressive, tied to his euphoria. This power made him feel connected to everything around him, but mostly to Zan.

  In loving you, I learn what I am.

  “My fearless beauty.” He pressed his face tight to her cheek. “I want to carry you to my bed and make up for my transgressions.”

  “Yes,” Zan whispered. Barakiel picked her up and cradled her in his arms as he walked toward the front door. The cats turned and headed back toward the river.

  The bullseye on the chest of the paper criminal was left a gaping hole. Mel had emptied her magazine at the target, every bullet landing true. Zan leaned against the lane divider in the harsh light of the gun range, wondering if she’d ever be that good.

  Somehow I doubt it.

  Zan’s shots pulled to the left far too often. Mel had delayed her own practice to give her partner some pointers, which meant Zan could watch Mel do her thing. Even the protruding ear muffs couldn’t detract from the woman’s supreme badassery whenever she held a gun in her hand.

  Mel pushed a button to recall the target. As it sped along the track toward her, she reloaded her gun and returned it to its holster on her hip. She swept up the bullet casings and dumped them in the recycling bin, then nodded to Zan. They headed for the exit, the other agents pausing mid-shot to acknowledge them as they walked into the sunny day.

  The office was more than a mile away, but the gun range was so noisy and dingy the partners usually walked so they could clear their heads. Zan also wanted to ask Mel for some advice, but not about shooting. She thought the married woman might help her get her head straight about Rainer.

  “Can I ask you something, Mel?”

  “If you’re worried about your marksmanship, don’t be. You’re getting better. You just need more practice. You’re still jerking the trigger sometimes.”

  “I know, but it’s not that. I, um, I want some relationship advice.”

  “Uh oh. Prince Charming losing his luster?”

  “I really don’t think that’s possible.”

  “So what’s the problem?” Mel asked, looking at Zan like she was a little kid who’d made herself sick eating candy.

  “I, uh, well, you know, I’m new to this kind of thing. I don’t know what’s normal. I really don’t. I don’t want to be the neurotic girlfriend. I want us to have our space, and not expect too much, and—”

  “Jesus. Spit it out.”

  “It’s like he has a split personality,” Zan said. “He’s so open with his feelings and he seems so devoted to me, but there’s this huge part of his life I know absolutely nothing about. He never tells me anything about his businesses. I guess the contrast bothers me. He never talks to me about his trips, or anything he’s trying to accomplish, or any problems he has. I swear, it’s like he’s hiding something.”

  Her face felt hot. She figured she was red as a tomato. “I gave him some shit about it after the raid, but I’m wondering if I should bring it up again. You know, in a calm way. We’ve only been serious for about a month. Am I being neurotic?”

  “You asked him questions and he refused to answer?” Mel crinkled her face like she smelled something rotten.

  “No, no. I’m not going to grill him about his activities. Not this early in the relationship.” Zan watched cars pass on the street for a few seconds. “I guess it’s mostly his texts and emails that bother me. When we were doing all that surveillance he texted me a lot. He said sweet things to me. Told me he missed me.”

  Mel snorted. “I remember. I could tell when he sent you a message like that. You’d get all moony-eyed. I could tell when he was sexting you too.”

  Zan lowered her eyes and tried not to smile. “The strange thing is, he’s never like that when he’s out of town on business. Oh, he’ll say he misses me, but that’s the extent of it. His messages are so perfunctory. And he won’t talk on the phone. He told me he hates it, and that’s fine I guess, but you’d think he’d want to talk to me after a long stressful day. It’s like he doesn’t want me to know anything about it. I think maybe his business manager disapproves of me.”

  “Did you get that vibe when you met him?”

  “Vibe doesn’t even cover it. Pellus is straight-up bizarre.”

  “How so?”

  “For one, he speaks with this really weird cadence. A truly strange accent. And he stared at me like he was looking right through me. I mean, people throw that expression around, but the look in this guy’s eyes was intense.”

  “More intense than Rainer?”

  “Yeah. I can’t even describe it. He was gracious, friendly even, but I sensed this weird undercurrent. Like he really wished I’d go away.”

  “Did he seem dangerous?”

  “A little.”

  “Maybe we should investigate Rainer’s companies. Think they’re up to no good? We can use his consulting agreement as an excuse.”

  “What? No! Christ, stop acting like a fed.”

  This is not how I thought this would go.

  “Then why’d you bring it up?” Mel stopped walking. Her expression hardened.

  “I want to know if you think I should say something.” Zan sweated with embarrassment. “Or if that would be too needy, like I don’t have my own damn life.”

  “It’s not needy to want to make sure your boyfriend isn’t a criminal.”

  “What the fuck is the matter with you?” Zan yelled. “Who said anything about him being a criminal?”

  “Keep your voice down,” Mel hissed. She resumed walking and spoke at a low volume. “I don’t trust him.”

  “Well, I do.”

  They stopped talking while they hustled across Callowhill before the light changed. It was a wide street, busy at that time of day.

  “Besides, we did a background check remember?” Zan resumed when they had crossed. “He’s an angel investor. Pays his taxes, gives a lot to charity, no criminal record. He’s a model fucking citizen. Not to mention, it would be pretty stupid for a criminal to offer to consu
lt for the FBI.”

  “The background check for a limited consulting agreement is cursory and you know it. Maybe he knows it too. Maybe consulting is his way of deflecting suspicion.”

  “Riiiiight,” Zan said. “We can see how well that worked.”

  Mel scowled but was undeterred. “His companies are offshore, privately held. We have no idea what they do.”

  “I told you. He’s an angel investor. He and Pellus keep a lid on their activities because they don’t want other investors swooping in on their opportunities.”

  “Something is the matter with this man. What about that thing with the boat?”

  “Those little assholes? He didn’t hurt them. He put a scare into them. It was hilarious, and they deserved it.”

  “And the raid? Who in god’s name acts like that?”

  “He was worried about me.” Zan spoke slowly, trying to get a grip on her anger.

  “Worried?” Mel said, scoffing. “He’s nuts. He walked past an FBI perimeter. He thinks he can do whatever he wants.”

  Zan wheeled and stabbed her finger at her partner. “I knew you were still pissed about that. Write me up, then. You didn’t have to cover for me.”

  “I don’t want to write you up!” Mel hung her head back in exasperation. “I’m just saying, the man is wacked.”

  “He doesn’t know anything about American law enforcement. He’s from a rich German family. He grew up sheltered. He didn’t know any better.”

  “Sheltered my ass. No one carries himself like Rainer does unless he’s been through some shit. I’m not buying him as some innocent.”

  Zan pulled her shirt end out of her pants and mopped her sweaty forehead. She flapped her shirt back and forth in an attempt to cool down. Mel stopped a few steps in front of her and stood with her arms hanging down, impatient.

  “He carries himself like a man who’s trained martial arts for most of his life,” Zan said. “But he didn’t understand what was wrong with what he did. I explained. He apologized. Profusely.”