Midheaven (Ascendant Trilogy Book 2)

by Rebecca Taylor

  If she ever found out the truth—when she found out the truth—Ms. Steward would never forgive me. Ever.

  Caleb’s hand moved beneath mine so I turned from the window and watched as he shifted and blinked his way out of sleep. When he saw me, he smiled sleepily. “Good morning.” He leaned over and looked out my window, “Are we landing?”

  “Almost,” I whispered.

  He sat back but kept his gaze fixed on me. “Are you okay?” He yawned. “You look nervous.”

  I looked back out the window and shook my head slowly. “I’m not nervous,” I answered. “I’m really, really scared.”

  Outside the airport, Aaron hired us a car and driver who advertised, “English here!” as soon as we stepped beyond the airport’s air-conditioned walls and into the swell of a heat so thick, it took me a moment to adjust my breathing.

  While Aaron and Caleb loaded our luggage into the taxi’s trunk, the driver moved to pick up the small crate that held the stone puzzle box. Aaron’s hand shot like lightening and grabbed the man’s thin, dark wrist. “I’ll be handling that myself,” he said. Once we had all piled inside the musty smelling taxi, Aaron rode in the front seat with the crate on his lap.

  On the streets of Delhi, chaos exploded all around us. Bright colors of reds, greens, pinks, blues—in every variation of shade imaginable draped on the thousands of people and inside the hundreds of markets we passed. An intense collective smell, all incense and sewage and hot tropical flora, attacked my first impression of the city while the driver jolted and jerked our car through the manic race happening in the streets. At a complex intersection, a police officer with a microphone called out instructions to drivers, pedestrians, and one man riding on top of an elephant.

  Caleb, squashed in the backseat between Sophie and me, reached over and took my hand. When I pulled my eyes away from the multitude of scenes happening outside my window to look at him, he gave me a nervous smile. “It’s pretty different.”

  “Yes,” I said and turned back to see a woman in a shiny purple sari seated in a bicycle rickshaw, inches from my face.

  “It says here that India is a shopping mecca,” Sophie said from her side of the backseat. She was flipping back and forth through a travel guide she’d purchased in the airport. “But I can’t find anything in here about—”

  Aaron’s arm reached into the backseat, snatched her book, and then tossed it out his open window.

  “Aayy,” Sophie protested.

  “This is not a goddamn vacation. There will be no shopping, site seeing, or tourist traps. I didn’t want to bring a classroom of brats with me in the first place. Am I the only one who understands what is happening?” He glanced sideways at the driver and stopped his tirade short. “Clearly,” he began again. “We all need to sit down and have a little talk when we get to the hotel.”

  Sophie folded her arms and sulked in her seat. “There was no reason to throw it out,” she chastised. A moment later she thought to add, “You owe me fifteen quid,” under her breath.

  Aaron apparently had perfect hearing because he scoffed, “You and a Pakistani named Ted. Ask him how long he’s been waiting.”

  The city was a mismatched jigsaw puzzle of dilapidated buildings, stretched down incomprehensible streets, radiating in every direction—forever. As we drove deeper and deeper into a land and place I did not know, a thought occurred to me—I had no idea where we were or how to get out of here.

  I watched Aaron’s balding head jostle against his headrest in front of me—he had everything. The puzzle box, yes, but also all our passports and visa information, “for safe keeping.” He had the itinerary, the name and last known location of our contact, and all the money my uncle had given us for expenses.

  We were completely dependent on him and, for some reason, this really, really bothered me.

  I opened my small purse resting on my lap and felt somewhat comforted by the sight of my functional wallet that held my California driver’s license and my American Express. What would Aaron say if I demanded my passport? Insisted on copies of all the necessary information? Had he just default taken over because of his “adult” status?

  “You are here!” our driver suddenly announced triumphantly. He stopped in what seemed like the middle of the road we had just been traveling on, set the brake, and jumped out his door. I looked around as the traffic bottled up behind us for a moment and then began leaking around us. When the driver popped the trunk and Aaron opened his front door, I reached for my handle, “You are here!” I repeated making Sophie smirk.

  “This isn’t safe,” Caleb said inspecting the rush of traffic just outside Sophie’s door.

  I stepped out my side, next to two other vehicles that were already double parked. “Shove over,” I heard Sophie say as she pushed Caleb out my side so she could slide out behind.

  All around us, chaos ruled.

  “Come on,” I grabbed Sophie’s hand and began to weave us past the parked cars to the sidewalk where Aaron stood talking with the driver surrounded by our bags. When he saw us, he nodded his head towards the closest door that didn’t look like any hotel I had ever seen. People were moving all around us, coming and going, crossing the street, getting into and out of three wheeled green and yellow motorbike taxis, flowing like a river up and down the sidewalk all around us. Aaron returned to his tense conversation with the driver while Caleb and Sophie hesitated outside the battered wooden door. They looked at me and I shrugged, “You are here!” Sophie didn’t smile this time.

  Caleb held the door for his sister and I realized this might be a good time to tell Aaron I thought it would be better if I managed my own things—without Caleb and Sophie listening, he might not be as defensive. “I’ll be right there,” I told Caleb. “I want to talk to Aaron.”

  Caleb gave me a questioning look.

  “It’s nothing.” I waved him inside. “It will only take a second.”

  “Okay,” he looked up and down the street. “Hurry though.”

  I nodded and he let the door close behind him. On the stretch of peach painted wall between our entrance and the next, an old woman stopped and began rolling out a thin reed mat. Ravaged and tattered, she lowered herself slowly in movements that looked painful and exhausting until she was lying down and could pull a gray blanket up over her body and head. I watched, unable to pull my eyes away from her cocoon wrapped body, it felt like I should do something. Food, money—a better blanket.

  A large white mass passed and startled me from the destitution lying before me. A cow. A white cow was sauntering down the street. It had long ears that stuck out from its head just below two small backward bending horns. A large knobby hump protruded up between its shoulder. I had seen a cow like this before, when I was younger, at the San Diego zoo. “A Brahman cow,” I said to myself and, as if it had heard me, it stopped and turned its soft eyes towards me. The shape of its head was long and delicate, almost like a horse. Its large black eyes blinked at me once before it swung its head back the way it was going and continued its leisurely sway up the street.

  A stillness, a moment of solitude surrounded by mania held me in a bubble as I watched the cow move away, parting the sea of people flowing around it until they again converged on themselves, closing the gap, they swallowed the cow into their collective—it disappeared from my view.

  Deep within the crowd, a lone figure faced me. His features came in flashes as people passed in front of him. Too far, I strained my neck and rose up on my toes, trying to get a better view of the pale skinned stranger that stood like stone in the center of Delhi.

  Then it cleared, a straight path between us opened up. For the briefest of moments I saw his full image from head to foot, his eyes bore into my soul and electricity, like a sickly sweet vibration, radiated from my spine. The crowd closed again between us and a nervousness settled in my stomach.

  “Hayden,” I breathed.

  “Charlotte,” I heard in my head, his voice so clear it made my body feel slack,
like I might collapse at any moment.

  “What are you doing?” Aaron boomed suddenly in my ear.

  I sucked my breath as I jumped back into the reality around me. Confused, I looked into Aaron’s suspicious glare. “Nothing.”

  Aaron narrowed his eyes, “Nothing?” He gazed down the street in the direction I had been staring. “It didn’t look like nothing.”

  I looked too, the street pulsed with human life but Hayden—if it had even really been Hayden—was gone.

  Aaron looked back at my face, he was weighing me, I could feel it. My expressions, tone of voice, for some reason he didn’t completely trust me. “Let’s get one thing straight,” he held up his finger so there would be no confusion. “I am here,” he pointed to the ground. “To protect you,” he pointed at my chest. “Period. If you’re not straight with me, you’re making my job harder.”

  “I am being straight with you.” I shrugged. “I saw a white cow walking down the middle of the sidewalk, it surprised me.” It was the truth wrapped in a lie of omission. Aaron studied me a moment more before he gave a satisfied nod.

  “Cows,” he shook his head and continued into the hotel entrance with his rolling bag and the puzzle crate balanced on top.

  When his back was completely turned, I let out my breath. What was I doing? Why didn’t I tell him I thought I saw Hayden Wriothesley? Had I seen Hayden? My brain felt fuzzy, unfocused. I scanned the crowds again, bodies pressing each other, jostling for the limited space around the auto-rickshaws and tiny taxies. Nothing. I didn’t see Hayden anywhere.

  But I felt him all over me.

  “Let’s move it princess,” Aaron called from the doorway.

  He was holding the door for me, waiting, making sure I followed him inside. I lifted my duffel up onto my shoulder and left the Delhi street behind. When I passed him, I stopped, the truth teetered on my lips. I should tell Aaron. I had no idea where Hayden stood. Was he working for his father? The memory of his uncharacteristic plea, last year in his father’s office, “please, don’t hurt her,” played through my mind.

  “Something you want to say?” Aaron asked.

  If Hayden was here, was he here for his father, or here for himself?

  “No,” I said. “I was just wondering about the cow.”

  Aaron scoffed. “Let’s just say you have to look pretty hard to find a large juicy hamburger on any of the menus here.”

  He ushered me inside and I let him. The door shut on the chaos outside but did nothing to quiet the storm gathering in my body.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  India

  The tiny hotel produced the same musty smell as the taxi that had delivered us from the airport. Every linen and towel in the cramped and shabby room I shared with Sophie was saturated in it. The dimly lit room had a threadbare carpet, a sagging double bed, and a grimy window overlooking a small courtyard on the roof of the one story building behind it. When I pulled the dusty drapes closed, the damp scent stirred up again and reminded me how far I was from the insulated luxury and wealth of Southern California tourism.

  Sophie stood in the middle of the room, clutching the bags she could hold and keeping her larger suitcase close. A shocked expression had settled around her eyes and mouth, she seemed paralyzed, and certainly quieter than I had ever seen her.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  She looked at me as if she were just noticing I was in the room and nodded her head.

  “It’s very different,” I tried. “Are you sorry you came?”

  Sophie shook her head but didn’t seem able to say anything else.

  I walked to her and started taking her bags off her body one by one and placing them on the floor around us. “You’ll feel better once we get something to eat.”

  Her eyebrows rose high as she passed me and made her way with her giant cosmetic bag to the bathroom, “Eat?…Here?” A disgusted grimace pulled at her nose and mouth.

  I sighed. I never should have let her come.

  From the bathroom, I heard Sophie scream, “Oh my God!” and then the sound of her bag crashing onto tile.

  When I ran to the door I asked, “What’s wrong?” but immediately saw for myself. In the wall, right next to the sink, directly across from the toilet, was a fist sized hole into the room next door. A small, brown faced boy pressed his laughing smile up to it and then shoved his arm through and wiggled his small fingers at us.

  Sophie, no longer shocked, gave me a disgusted look. “Well that’s just perfect.”

  There were nicer, more expensive hotels all over Delhi. Aaron knew the owners of this particular dive and felt that staying out of the J.W. Marriott would help us keep a low profile.

  “Those are the first places they’ll look,” he explained later that night at dinner as he licked some sort of thick sauce off his fingers. He shook his hand violently to dislodge the scraps of rice still sticking to him. Many of them flew back into the shared bowl in the center of the table. Sophie, Caleb, and I all made a disgusted face and didn’t touch another bite.

  “And we’re not getting comfortable anyway,” he added, shoving another handful of the unpronounceable dish into his mouth. “Pushing on tomorrow,” he tapped the table. He scanned the room, inspecting the other diners without turning his head. “Our contact is not in the city,” he whispered. A pale scrap of food flew from his lips and landed on Sophie’s arm.

  “Eeww,” she squalled, wiping it off with her napkin as fast as she could. The young Indian couple eating next to us looked over to see what was happening.

  Aaron scowled at Sophie, “Do you know what discreet means?”

  “Do you know what eating with your mouth closed means?”

  He snorted at her and took another large bite, making sure to chew twice with his mouth wide open so Sophie could see the mashed mess sticking to his tongue and teeth.

  Under the table, Caleb moved his hand from his lap onto mine and I clasped it, like it was an anchor to keep me centered.

  The noise of Delhi, coupled with Aaron and Sophie’s bickering, was wearing me down. I fought the urge to stand up, Caleb in tow, and walk out of the restaurant. The need to be alone, to curl up into a tight ball with Caleb’s body wrapped protectively around me was overwhelming. I wanted to hide in his arms, fall asleep against his chest—I wished we’d had more time to be alone before leaving Gaersum Aern. With me sleeping with Sophie, and Caleb sharing a room with Aaron, there didn’t seem to be any way for us to be alone now. I leaned my head against his shoulder and closed my eyes—maybe Aaron would finish stuffing his face soon and we could at least leave. Caleb lifted his hand from mine and put his arm around me, pulling me into his side, I felt his lips on the top of my head for a moment and the warmth of his breath on my scalp.

  The rich, thick smells of the unfamiliar foods collected in the back of my throat and made me wish for cool, fresh air. Nausea settled in around my stomach. Caleb rubbed my arm gently while he tried to eat, one handed, the food off his own plate. Exhausted, my body felt like it was shutting down, like the air against my skin was dropping in temperature even though everyone around us was wearing light clothing and looked flattened by the Indian heat. I reached for my strange tasting water and took a careful sip, all I wanted to do was lie down.

  Aaron was still eating and Sophie, unwilling to share with him, was looking over the menu again. I tilted my mouth up to Caleb’s ear and whispered, “I’m so tired, come back to the hotel with me.”

  Caleb shifted in his seat and I could feel his body tense up next to me. He dropped his food back onto his plate, took his arm from around me, and wiped his fingers on his napkin. “You don’t look well,” he said to me loud enough for Aaron and Sophie to look up from what they were doing. He brushed the hair from my face. “I think you should go back to the room and lie down,” he nodded his head at me.

  I looked at him and his strange expression and then to Aaron and Sophie. Aaron eyed me suspiciously but Sophie just gave me a wicked smirk before retur
ning to her menu and saying, “Caleb, you should take her back to the hotel.” She pretended to yawn and then glanced up from the menu and winked at me.

  “She’s not going anywhere,” Aaron said around a mouthful of food. “Not anywhere out of my sight,” he pointed to the table.

  “Oooo,” Sophie suddenly thrust her menu in front of Aaron. “Have a look at that dessert,” she pointed. “That sounds delicious.”

  Aaron’s eyes moved to the place Sophie was pointing and began reading.

  “Let’s order one of those.”

  Aaron caught the waiter’s attention from across the room and, once he was at our table, ordered whatever they were drooling over. I was too wrecked to even care and was now annoyed that it would be even longer until we were going to leave.

  Once the waiter left, Sophie focused a very serious expression on me. “Charlotte, you really do look ill.” She turned to Aaron, “She’s not well,” Sophie added shaking her head. “And the hotel is only right across the street, and we could clearly see her,” she pointed at the dirty plate glass window, “the entire time, and she would be with Caleb who would never in a million years let anything happen to her, and it will do us no good if she gets horribly sick and can’t leave the room tomorrow when we need to be finding,” she lowered her voice to a whisper, “the contact.”

  Aaron kept shoveling food into his mouth and staring at his plate.

  “And we’ve just ordered a yummy dessert and you’ve clearly not yet had enough—”

  “Jesus,” Aaron finally broke. “Do you ever shut up? Do you all think I’m a complete idiot? I didn’t fall off the last bus that came trundling through India. You think I don’t know they want to be alone together? Everyone in the restaurant can see they want to be alone together. All of India can see. Did it ever occur to you that part of my protection might involve keeping them from being alone together? Do you have any idea what might happen if they are alone together?”