The Passion Season

by Libby Doyle

  “How dare you,” Rainer said in a voice that rolled through the room like thunder. Everyone in the bar turned toward the sound. Spit dripped from Benson’s lips. His eyes were so wide it was like his lids had been surgically removed. A dark stain spread over his pants.

  “Rainer, let him go,” Zan said. Rainer didn’t move, glaring like his eyes were pinning Benson to the wall along with his arm.

  “Rainer! Let him go!”

  He removed his hand. Benson slouched and coughed.

  “Apologize.” Rainer’s voice demanded obedience with its vibration.

  “Uh, uh, sorry, ma’am. Sorry, sorry.”

  “Leave,” Rainer said, his eyes still burning. Benson stumbled away and out the door of the bar. As Rainer’s head turned to follow Benson’s exit, he exhaled, a sound more a growl than a breath. Zan could tell he did not want to let that man walk out of there. One glance at her friends told her they knew as well.

  Great. Mel already thinks he’s nuts.

  “What the hell, Rainer?” Zan glared up at him.

  “What?”

  “That man is a police officer. You just assaulted him. You might be in a lot of trouble right now.”

  “Assaulted him? He assaulted you!”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Jamal said. “Rainer didn’t hurt him, and I don’t think Benson is going to want to publicize the fact that your boyfriend just literally scared the piss out of him.”

  Mel and Emmett erupted in laughter. “Oh my god, that was so excellent,” Mel said. Zan was surprised, but then again, Mel loathed Benson.

  “Don’t encourage him,” Zan said. “Rainer, you don’t need to put yourself at risk to defend my honor. I can defend my own honor.”

  “What about my honor, Zan?” Rainer threw up his hands. “Do you actually think I would let a man touch you like that and do nothing?” He held her eyes. “No one is allowed to disrespect you.”

  A rush of tenderness swept her anger away. She and Rainer gazed at each other, faintly smiling.

  “Okay, kids, snap out of it.” Mel waved her hand. “We’ve had an eventful day. Time to return to sanity.”

  They left the bar, given that everyone was staring at them.

  New York City

  People in suits packed Federal Plaza in Manhattan as Zan and Mel walked toward a glass office tower to attend a conference on gun violence. Agents and police officers from Philadelphia, Newark, New Haven and New York were there for the conference. Zan thought these things were a waste of time, but Nguyen wanted them there.

  She and Mel were a little early, so they stopped under a tree on the plaza to drink their take-out coffee. They spotted Jamal and his partner Kevin and headed that way. When Zan got near Jamal he stepped away with an exaggerated motion.

  “Whoa, whoa! Don’t get within five feet of O’Gara, or her boyfriend will rip off your fucking head.”

  “Planning on slapping me on the ass, Jamal?”

  “Hell no.” Jamal waved his hands and shook his head. “I’m not stupid enough to do that, with or without Gigantor.”

  “Thanks for saying that, really, but you’ve got to stop calling him Gigantor.”

  “Yeah, I know. Let’s keep that between you and me, if you don’t mind, and just agree that Benson is stupid.”

  “For sure. Benson is stupid as dirt,” Mel added.

  “What the hell are you guys talking about?” Kevin asked. Jamal told Kevin the story.

  “You’re kidding me,” Kevin said. “Benson? That’s a big dude.”

  “This dude’s bigger,” Jamal said. “I’m pretty sure if he’d been standing there Benson wouldn’t have touched Zan. Dude is fucking scary.”

  Zan knew where he was coming from but she protested anyway. “Rainer is not scary. He’s nice.”

  “Heh, heh, well he is, kinda,” Jamal said. “But he’s kinda scary, too.”

  “Well, he gave you the evil eye because you called him Gigantor.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. It was rude.”

  “Gigantor, huh?” Kevin said. “He must be something else, this guy.”

  “He’s something else all right,” Mel said. “He is a strange man.”

  “What the fuck, Mel? I thought you got over that?”

  “Oh come on, Zan. I like Rainer, I do, but I still think he’s odd.”

  “How so?”

  “Besides scaring the piss out of big-ass detectives? For one, he talks like he’s in some kind of Shakespeare production.”

  “He’s European.”

  “I’ve met Europeans, Zan. They use informal speech. Rainer hardly ever does. And what about his compound, his mysterious businesses, his collection of deadly weapons and that sonic boom of a voice? He’s the strangest fucking guy I ever met.”

  Zan held Mel’s eyes for a moment. She pushed out a laugh.

  I knew this already. I don’t know why it’s upsetting me.

  “Well, strange or not strange, he’s totally smoking hot.”

  “You got that right,” Jamal said. “I’m the straightest man alive and he turned my head.”

  Grateful for Jamal’s easy humor, Zan grinned. They decided to check in to the conference then, and made their way through the crowd. When the conference was over, Mel and Zan headed to the train on foot.

  “I’m sorry for what I said this morning, about Rainer being strange,” Mel said after they had walked a block in silence. Zan gave no indication she’d heard her.

  “I don’t see why you’re so mad,” Mel went on. “Calling him strange was better than calling him totally fucking terrifying. First, the boat thing, and now he grabs Benson by the throat? I saw the look on his face. It was beyond scary.”

  “What next? You going to accuse him of being a criminal again?”

  “No. I told you I would back off and I have. And now that I’ve gotten to know him a little I don’t think he’s a criminal. The Benson thing has me worried, that’s all.”

  “You laughed! You said it was excellent!”

  “Yeah. I couldn’t help it. Benson is a sexist piece of crap and I was a little drunk. But later, I thought about his reaction. It was pretty extreme.”

  “I know. Maybe he tends to overreact.”

  Mel opened her eyes wide. “Ya think?”

  Zan didn’t know whether to chuckle or yell. “Don’t worry. You can’t even imagine how gentle he is with me unless I ask him not to be.” Mel gave her an I-don’t-want-to-know look and they walked again in silence for a minute or two.

  “Now that I think about it, you saying that shit in front of Jamal and Kevin really bothered me,” Zan said. “It’s none of their business.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry, but, uh, I’m pretty sure Jamal also thinks Rainer is strange.”

  “Ha! Not much doubt about that.” Zan mused for a few seconds. “Maybe Pellus rubs off on him. You know, his business manager? He’s totally bizarre.”

  “Yeah, you told me that before. How strange he is and how he was sizing you up. If I had to take a guess, I’d say he’s protective of his boy.”

  “Like you’re protective of me?” The partners smiled at each other, the tension melting. “I want you to be friends with Rainer,” Zan continued. “It’s important to me.”

  “I’m perfectly capable of being friends with someone strange, my dear. Maybe even a little scary. I just hope he’s on my side.”

  “If you’re on my side, he’s on your side.” Zan paused as a group of loud teenagers passed by. “You still hardly know him. It’s not like the softball game gave you much of a chance to talk.”

  “True enough.” Mel tilted her head. “I’ve got an idea. You know that camping trip I go on every year to Ricketts Glen with those couples from the university? You always said no before, because you were single. Why don’t you join us?”

  “When is it again?”

  “In two weeks. This coming Friday is the Fourth of July so the campground will be packed, but the weekend after it’s usually almost empty. W
e’re taking off Thursday and Friday.”

  “All right, if Nguyen will let me have the time. I don’t have any gigs. I have to check with Rainer of course, but if he doesn’t have any business obligations, I’m sure he’ll go.” Zan smiled at her friend, her anger gone.

  She’ll do her best to be friends with my strange, beautiful man.

  CHAPTER 4

  Philadelphia

  THANKS TO BARAKIEL’S MEETING with the commanders after his tour of duty in the Turning, Pellus now had another source for his growing anxiety. The commanders seemed to expect more and more of Barakiel the stronger Lucifer became, as if they viewed the father as the son’s responsibility. This, combined with the need to destroy the false monks, gave Pellus a terrible feeling of dread as he and Barakiel passed out of the rift.

  If I did not love this warrior so much I would curse him for destroying my serenity.

  Once Barakiel had shaken off his disorientation from the passage, he suggested they sit by the river to discuss the false monks and their followers.

  “Have you discovered anything about the identity of the people who rented that house?” he asked when they’d settled in.

  “Eh, I am still working on it,” Pellus said. “Of course, the house was rented in the name of a company. The people associated with that company took pains to conceal themselves.”

  “Taking a page from our book.”

  “Yes. I will keep trying.”

  “What about the unsavory task that awaits us in the Camargue? We need to do that sooner rather than later, before anyone else is hurt.”

  “All right. We can go tomorrow.” Pellus attempted to keep the worry from his voice.

  I wish there was another way.

  “If they have left the Camargue, we will have to wait until another time,” Barakiel said. “I need to get back here for the holiday.”

  “The what?”

  “The holiday. American Independence Day. Zan and I are spending it with her friends. I’ve always loved it.”

  “Yes. I remember how much you enjoyed that particular party the first time it happened.”

  Barakiel nodded. He looked away then looked back at Pellus, rubbing his forearm.

  That mannerism. He is going to tell me something I do not want to hear.

  “I should tell you, Pellus. My relationship with Zan has grown quite serious.” Barakiel scrutinized the adept for a moment. “In fact, it has grown so serious I do not see how I can fail to tell her what I am.”

  Not this again. What is the matter with him?

  “And I have told you that is a terrible idea,” Pellus said. “I am surprised at you, that you would be willing to place her in danger. As I have said before, I am not the only traveler who can come here.”

  Pellus watched the conflict play itself out on Barakiel’s face. “We must keep the secret!” the warrior said, his voice rising. “I do not see how even a spy would know I had told her. She will keep my confidence. She must know. She is my mate. I have found my mate.”

  The adept’s chest constricted with sorrow. He pushed it aside in favor of his anger.

  He is giving himself to her. I must stop this.

  “Found your mate? Do not be ridiculous. You cannot mate with a human.”

  “Yet I have. The response she has drawn from me is all I need to know.”

  “Please. When Covalent mate the ages spent together give the two a deep understanding of each other’s fears and strengths. With your mate, you have the most intimate of relationships, the most steadfast of support. You cannot have that with this woman.”

  The warrior rose from his seat. “Her name is Zan. Call her by her name.”

  “Very well.” Pellus stood in turn. “I am sure Zan would place her life in your hands without hesitation, but whatever her intentions, she can be of no help to you.” He fell silent for a moment. He had to choose his words carefully so Barakiel would not move beyond reason.

  “Sometimes decisions we make with the purest and most beautiful of intentions have unintended consequences,” Pellus continued. “If you were to tell Zan of your nature, there is no guarantee the Council would not discover what you had done. What if she were to become complacent? One day she might forget and be there to greet us as we emerge from a rift. Or the two of you might have a conversation that reveals her knowledge of the Covalent Realm. What if a traveler spy was there to hear it? You have enemies, Barakiel. It would not take much. Zan would be killed and you would not be able to live with yourself.”

  A mixture of anger and fear filled Barakiel’s eyes like rising smoke. “Why should they care?” he asked. “They exiled me. In times past the Covalent played god in the Earthly Realm, fucking and fighting, manipulating humans to amuse ourselves. We never worried about what they discovered.”

  “Of course we didn’t. Humans were not as they are. The Council has good reason now to keep its secrets. The Covalent number some 25 million. How many humans are there? Seven billion? Think on that.” Pellus wrung his hands. He took a deep breath. “The Council worries over human technology, and rightly so. I am able to detect a rift with my senses. What if the humans detect a rift with their instruments? What happens then?”

  Barakiel snorted. “Paranoia does not look good on you, Pellus. I doubt anything of great consequence would occur even if your unlikely scenario were to develop.”

  “How can you say that? You know the idiocy of these creatures better than anyone! Would you put it past them to fire a nuclear warhead into a rift? What would happen?” Pellus leaned in, desperate to get the warrior to acknowledge what Pellus saw as a simple truth. “What about their staggering capacity to generate garbage? They could turn the rifts into so many trash heaps. Before long, they are likely to render their own realm uninhabitable. Guardian forbid they look to the rifts to save themselves, to find another place to ruin.”

  “This is ridiculous speculation.” Barakiel’s face had grown splotchy and red. “I am more interested in your veiled threat.”

  “I made no veiled threat.”

  “No? You try to control me with warnings about travelers spying for the Council.” Barakiel took a step toward Pellus. “Perhaps you are the spy. Would you tell them? Would you betray me?”

  “Of course not.” Pellus felt the weight of hurt in his chest, placed there by Barakiel’s words as well as his threatening stance. “But I fear that Zan may betray you unwittingly. What if her friends in the FBI were to become suspicious of you? They might investigate you, discover that your background is false.”

  “As if anything anyone ever does comes with a guarantee.” Barakiel’s voice spat venom. “How can you say Jeduthan will not reveal that you killed the false monk, an act against Covalent Law?”

  “Jeduthan would never do such a thing.”

  “She wouldn’t? Jeduthan is a scholar and a scribe to the Council who has never let her voice be heard among them. She is subservient. She has only ever done exactly as she is told. If they were to question her, she would tell them everything.”

  “How dare you insult Jeduthan? How dare you compare her to your speck of a human?” Pellus hissed. He paused to calm himself. Barakiel had never been so disrespectful.

  He has forgotten his place.

  “Perhaps in a way you are right about my paranoia,” Pellus added, his face turned in a chilling smile. “Your human’s life is so short, she will be dead before there is time for unintended consequences. I need only wait for the problem to solve itself. The love you share will dry and crumble like so many autumn leaves.”

  Barakiel turned his head. He made a strangled sound, his eyes unfocused. Pellus’ anger evaporated like drops of water off a hot skillet.

  What have I done?

  “I am sorry, Barakiel. I was wrong to say that. Please forgive me.”

  The warrior did not look at him. He no longer seemed aware of his presence. He walked off, got in his car and drove away.

  Hours after Barakiel left, Pellus considered calling Zan to fi
nd out if he had gone to her, but he had no idea if Barakiel was even supposed to be in town.

  Where else would he go?

  All night, Pellus paced through Barakiel’s home, waiting for him to return. He came through the door shortly after dawn.

  “Why are you still here?” he asked.

  “I thought we were going to France.”

  “That will have to wait. I am not going anywhere with you. You need to go now and secure me an audience with the Council. I will request a new traveler, solely for transportation. I will not let this traveler into my life. This traveler will not pass my threshold.”

  “Barakiel, please, I did not mean—”

  “Shut the fuck up,” Barakiel said evenly. “I will no longer treat you with respect, as you evidently have none for me. You treat me as if I do not know my own mind. I am not playing a game. I am not using Zan to assuage my loneliness. I love her. She is my mate.” His eyes dared Pellus to protest.

  “I have sacrificed a great deal in my life,” he continued, “but not anymore. Go ahead and tell the Council I am in love with a human. If they want my help, they will have nothing to say. If any harm befalls Zan, you will see how quickly I reveal the existence of the Covalent Realm.”

  Pellus knew better than to say anything.

  “From now on, I am going to do whatever the fuck I want,” Barakiel said, his voice growing louder. “That is the challenge you can bring to them. See if they can stop me. See if you can. I may not grow old with Zan, but I will never leave her. I will love her until she turns to dust in my hands. Do you hear me?”

  I have lost him. I have treated him like a child. I am a fool.

  Zan arrived at Barakiel’s place a few hours before they were due at a Fourth of July barbeque hosted by the bass player in her band. She held a brown box. He crinkled his nose at the odor.

  It smells foul. Like suffering.

  “Sorry about the meat, honey.” She kept the box behind her as she reached up for her kiss, then put it in the refrigerator. “Fresh-made sausages with fennel from the Italian Market. The carnivores will love them.”