“Yes,” I said aloud. Looking up and back at him, I held his gaze, nodding. Yes. Okay. As long as it goes two ways, I agree. Once we’ve come to an agreement about something around the other’s behavior, we drop it, unless that agreement is broken.
I saw a flicker of emotion touch his eyes.
That time, it looked like gratitude.
His eyes grew thoughtful then, right before he nodded, once, still holding my gaze.
That’s actually more than what I asked for, but I’m fine with that, too. And it absolutely goes two ways. Always. Same with what I agreed to with you. I don’t mean with vampires so much as sex… inappropriate behavior, whatever… with anyone, including in relation to any military operation, involving any race. Ever.
I rolled my eyes to that, but he nudged me, sharper, until I answered.
Of course. Absolutely two ways.
Still thinking, he added,
I’d actually still prefer if we talked through some of that. Whenever you’re ready. What I did, why I did it. I want us to understand one another completely on this.
I nodded, more reluctantly that time.
Agreed.
His light relaxed even more.
Wrapping his arms around me, he cuddled me up against his chest.
I love you, he sent, softer. Miri, I know you’re still mad. I know that. But I’ll do anything I have to do. I’ll still see someone too, if you want me to. In San Francisco. Wherever.
I opened my light, leaning into him.
His light flared, enveloping me when I softened.
I felt his worry about me still––worry he hadn’t said enough, or maybe that he’d said too much. Distrust lived there, but also an intense focus, as if he was trying to read me without using his light. I felt a lingering flicker of jealousy there, too, an annoyance that I hadn’t told him anything at all about what I’d been doing while I was gone.
I don’t want to encourage your nonsense, I grunted, my head still resting on his chest. It is nonsense, you know. You. Jealous.
Not really, he sent.
I turned my head, looking up and back at him, a frown on my lips.
He didn’t return my gaze.
I felt a pulse of grief leave his light then, and my annoyance faded. Briefly, I was overwhelmed again by how much light filled the space around us.
The sheer number of colors shocked me.
Some of those colors I associated with Black, especially the rich, lapis lazuli-type blues, the dark purples and reds, even threads of darker gold that whispered through his aura.
Others came from the Barrier storm filling the skies around Ship Rock: brighter oranges, whites, golds and reds, as well as that pale, sky-blue color that seemed to want to pull me even higher up into those shockingly light-filled clouds.
I couldn’t fully separate out what was happening with me and Black anymore, versus what was happening out in that desert with Black’s door. I couldn’t tell what was the Barrier storm, and what was whatever was going on with the two of us.
I can’t either, doc, he sent.
His light was unbelievably soft.
Soft enough, I found myself briefly fighting tears, although I couldn’t have explained that to him or myself either. I felt that caution on him still, his worry about me. I could feel he was still worried he’d do or say something that would piss me off. At the same time, he was having a harder time controlling his emotional reactions to me, or hiding them from me.
I fed him more of the huevos rancheros, watching him chew, feeling a denser ripple of pleasure off his light as he gradually relaxed.
I also felt him thinking about sex again.
Only then did I remember Black’s friend, Manny.
When I turned my head though, facing the other side of the table, Manny was no longer sitting there.
“Yeah,” Black said, sighing as he swallowed the food. “He left. We’re probably annoying the shit out of him.” Glancing at me, he frowned. “I guess we need to make more of an effort to pull our shit together, doc. Somehow I don’t think your uncle’s going to be as forgiving or as easygoing as Manny, seeing the two of us in this state.”
Returning his frown, I nodded.
He was probably right.
Uncle Charles still didn’t exactly approve of me and Black, as much as he tried to pretend otherwise. He hadn’t said a word to me about Black in Hawaii.
Even so, I felt it, here and there––what can only be described as relief that things might not work out with me and Black after all, and before we’d been together long enough for it to be much of an issue, at least in my uncle’s view.
I felt glimpses of smugness there, too, like he wasn’t exactly surprised Black had been the one to screw things up, or that I’d been the one to leave.
I was still staring out the window, thinking about this while Black massaged my back, eating huevos rancheros from over my shoulder, when I heard the sound.
It took me a few seconds to identify what it was.
I was still swimming in so much of Black’s light, I questioned at first if it was even real. I wondered if it was something that lived inside that rotating Barrier storm of gold, red, and orange clouds, a massive dragon beating its leathery wings.
Then I realized I knew the sound.
It was the sound of military helicopters.
16
THE CAVALRY
UNCLE CHARLES STEPPED out of the first Sikorsky UH-60 Black Hawk that landed on the stretch of desert on the other side of Manny’s house, not far from the old wood barn and in sight of Manny’s dusty and sand-pocked back porch.
I watched my uncle’s blond and brown hair whip in the wind as he said something to the pilot, who nodded. He turned then, motioning for the rest of the Black Hawk’s passengers to follow him out.
Three other helicopters landed around the one he climbed out of, one a full-sized military transport Chinook. Staring at it, I saw helmeted heads through the oval windows and realized every seat appeared to be taken by military personnel. All wore full combat gear, and it struck me in some shock they were all likely to be seers, given who they worked for.
The realization bewildered me.
From next to me, I felt a flicker of wariness leave Black’s light.
I glanced at him, expecting to find him staring at Charles and the Chinook, too.
He wasn’t, though.
Instead I found him watching the row of Navajo Nation police who stood in a cluster about fifty yards from us, equidistant from the nearest Sikorsky and the Chinook. Manny stood near them, yet somehow apart, arms folded over a flannel shirt as he watched the helicopters power down more or less in his backyard.
Black wasn’t watching Manny, though.
He was watching a younger man, maybe in his mid-forties, who stood next to a woman roughly the same age. Looking at the woman’s face, it struck me that she resembled Manny. In fact, she resembled him so much, she pretty much had to be his daughter.
Puzzled, I glanced at Black, wondering what he was looking at exactly.
Feeling my eyes on him, he turned, his gold irises meeting mine, shocking me with their brightness under the direct sunlight.
You should have told me, he sent after a beat.
I studied his eyes. Told you what?
Those gold eyes grew a sharper edge, the flecks of lighter and darker gold catching the sun. He gazed back out over the desert.
You should have told me you think I trust Charles too much. That frown on his lips tightened. Listening to you talk to Manny, I realized I forgot a lot of things, trying to ingratiate myself with your family.
That time, his stare shifted in the direction of the helicopters.
Turning to follow his gaze, I watched Charles approach.
As I did, I nodded, thinking about Black’s words.
We should talk about that, I told him. About Paris. About what you saw there.
Feeling his agreement, I added more cautiously,
I think I�
��d like to hear more about Vietnam, too, if you’re okay with sharing that with me. And about this religion Charles brought here with him from Old Earth. The one with the dragon statues and triskele. The one Ian was obsessed with while he was killing people in San Francisco and Thailand.
I didn’t mention I also wanted to know if there was any connection between that religion and the elaborate dragon tattoo Black wore on his back.
Black gave me a sideways glance, his eyes holding a denser understanding.
He nodded slowly, as subtly as I had with him.
Agreed, he sent, quieter.
Looking at him, at the angles of his jaw and cheekbones, I fought a more visceral reaction to him, and felt his light react under my stare.
But Charles had reached us by then.
I saw him take in the two of us in a series of flickering glances, assessing us with his eyes and light with a precision that was unnerving. I caught the wariness there, sharper in him than what I’d seen and felt in Black. He clearly noted that something had changed with the two of us––beyond just the fact that I was here.
Even so, my uncle barely faltered before a smile broadened on his face.
He held out a hand to Black first, aiming that smile at him.
“Quentin,” he said. “I’m so glad to see you here.”
Black shook his hand, his light and expression polite.
“Hello, Charles. Thanks for coming.”
My uncle’s leaf-green eyes shifted to me. His light ran over me like a feather again, as if he’d picked up more information about both of us just from his brief contact with Black. Before I could decide what the look meant, he stepped closer, pulling me to him in a half-hug.
“Miri,” he said, kissing my cheek. “Darling. I’m happy to see you here, too.”
I bit back the skeptical, sarcastic words that wanted to come to my lips.
Instead, I hugged him briefly back, studying his face when he released me.
“I thought you had business to attend to?” I said, lips pursed. “In Europe.” Glancing past him, at his people now streaming out of the helicopters and out the back of the Chinook, I added, “Clearly you know something more about what’s happening out here than we do.”
“I doubt that.” Charles aimed a sideways glance at Black. “From what his friend the Colonel told me, I suspect your mate has already guessed the same thing I have about what we’re dealing with here.”
I grunted, looking at Black.
“You mean about the doors.” I folded my arms, that frown still etched on my lips. “Let’s just hope we’re all in agreement about what to do about the damned things… which is to close them. Hopefully for good this time.”
Lucky Lucifer smiled that thousand-watt smile at me.
I’d spent weeks with him recently––months, if you counted our time with him in New York––yet somehow, this time, I found myself seeing that smile differently. Despite the noonday New Mexico sun, I shivered, cold penetrating my skin and light like ice water over porous rock.
Like Black, I found myself remembering things about my uncle. Like what he did to Black when he more or less forced Black to work for him in Paris.
He’d nearly killed him.
He’d also ordered him raped.
Feeling sick as I remembered that, and more importantly, that I’d let myself forget it in the first place, I glanced at Black.
From his expression, he’d picked up on at least part of what I was thinking. Coiling a thick arm around my waist, he tugged me roughly up against his side, holding me there without letting me go, or even loosening his hold.
When we both faced my uncle that time, it felt different.
Whatever that difference was, from my uncle’s expression, specifically the frown that touched his sculpted lips as he looked between us, he clearly felt it, too.
“We’re going to Ship Rock,” he said, after a bare pause.
He looked at me, then at Black.
“I thought you should accompany us,” he added, clearly speaking only to Black.
I stiffened.
My uncle didn’t seem to notice; he continued speaking to Black alone.
“…I’d like to see the area where you sent that team looking for Wolf and his coven of vampires. I’d also like you there for tactical reasons. I don’t have many in my group with as much combat experience as you, despite your age.”
Pausing, he added,
“I’d like your thoughts on how to tackle this Wolf person. And I want you there when we go to Ship Rock. We’ll need all the help we can get with that door.”
Aiming his leaf-green eyes at me, he added,
“Miriam can stay here, and talk to the children this Wolf conscripted into his ranks. I’m told she’d planned to do that today anyway. I’m sure the local humans can help her with that… we’d likely only get in the way.”
Black glanced at me, quirking one dark eyebrow.
Despite the faint humor in his expression, I saw none of that humor reflected in his gold irises. I felt reluctance on him, instead. That time it didn’t feel aimed at his uncle so much as at me. That reluctance strengthened as I watched, turning into a harder, more insistent protest. At the same time, I felt his caution with me, with what he should say and how he should say it without pissing me off.
He needn’t have bothered. I was one hundred percent with him on this.
“Absolutely not,” I said.
Looking away from Black, I faced my uncle, even as Black’s grip on my waist tightened, maybe partly from the anger that rippled off my light.
“Black isn’t going anywhere near Ship Rock,” I added. “No fucking way. If you need his input, you’ll get it remotely.”
Charles’ eyes narrowed.
He looked at me, then at Black, as if to confirm what I’d said.
When Black didn’t move, didn’t change expression, Charles exhaled a sigh, running a hand through his blond-streaked hair.
“Fine,” he said grudgingly. “Yes. I can understand that, after the reaction he had to the place yesterday.” He gave me a warier look. “Although he’ll have a whole squadron of my people with him this time, Miriam, all of them highly trained infiltrators. All of them holding the Barrier space via a construct––”
“No,” I snapped. “I said no. That wasn’t a starting place for a negotiation. It was your answer. Absolutely not.”
My uncle stared at me.
Gradually, his expression grew more cautious. It seemed to finally have occurred to him that I was the one he needed to convince, not Black himself.
“What if he came with me to the bluff?” Charles said, after another beat. “Where Wolf’s people were last seen? That’s not very close to the anomaly at Ship Rock.”
I felt my jaw harden more.
“No to that, too,” I said. “One, you’re not separating us. Two, I don’t trust you Uncle Charles. Not with Black. Not with his life.”
Charles frowned for real at that.
“Miri… gods of the underworld. You think I’d harm your husband?”
I shrugged, biting my lip. “I think if you thought you could ‘lose’ him through that door in some way, without killing or losing me, you’d do it in a heart beat,” I said, not bothering to soften my words. “I think if you thought you could use him to get at Wolf and his vampires, you would do that, too.”
Charles frowned. His leaf-green eyes gauged mine.
As they did, I glimpsed a colder, more calculating assessment occurring behind those light-filled irises. I couldn’t help thinking what I saw there was probably a lot closer to the real Charles than the affable uncle he played with me most of the time.
“What if you came with us?” he said, blunt.
Looking between the two of us, he let out an annoyed-sounding grunt.
“Clearly I’ve caught the two of you in the midst of some… moment related to your marriage. I applaud the reconciliation, and your loyalty, Miriam, but you must see how it’s making you both
highly irrational. You’d think I threatened his life, not told him I trust his judgment and his mind more than those of the majority of my team.”
He made a dismissive gesture with one hand, frowning.
“I understand, Miri. I do. You are seer, these things happen. It is normal to be protective of your mate, even when it’s not particularly warranted––even when you’re not in the middle of some kind of energetic reconnection with him after a period of estrangement. But I need your husband in this. It’s too important for us not to approach this thing rationally. If you really cannot bear to let him out of your sight, then postpone the interviews and come with us. That way, you can be sure I act according to––”
“No,” I said, my voice colder still.
Sensing movement, I glanced to my right.
Manny stood there now, shoulder to shoulder with that same woman I’d seen before, the one who looked so much like Manny, she had to be his daughter. Next to her stood the middle aged man not wearing a Navajo Nation police uniform.
I assumed he must be Red, Nick’s friend from the B.I.A.
All three of them were looking at Charles, listening to us talk.
Manny looked angry––annoyed at least––and I didn’t get the feeling it was aimed at me or Black. From whispers I got off his light, he didn’t trust Charles, or “Lucky,” as he thought of him, any further than he could throw him. He also thought Charles was trying to bully and/or manipulate both of us, which pissed him off.
Both things made me like him more than I already did.
Black grunted, sending me a plume of affection.
I found myself frowning at Manny’s daughter and her husband, though.
I really couldn’t get any kind of read on them at all.
Black said something about that the first night he called me, while I was still in Hawaii––about Red being affiliated through the B.I.A. with some kind of “special unit” that specifically looked into supernatural-type occurrences. Black thought maybe that’s why Red was so difficult to read, light-wise. He also thought maybe the fact that he had some psychic ability was why they recruited him in the first place.
Black admitted he was pretty skeptical about the whole thing until he talked to the Colonel, and the Colonel confirmed that they were aware of the unit at the federal level. Once vampires were discovered, they even started funding them.
Black To Dust: A Quentin Black Paranormal Mystery (Quentin Black Mystery Book 7) Page 24