Rafael smiled. “Now, that is definitely something you will have to ask him in person, Lady.”
Layla smiled in response. Toby did love to play games, always leaving clues for her to follow. So be it. “Then we shouldn’t keep him waiting.”
Rafael stood and held out his hand to her.
Layla took his hand and allowed him to help her to her feet. For a moment, she was annoyed at her clumsiness, but then she reminded herself that it was all part of being a mother and that she owed this part of her experience to Toby, as well. She considered the casual dress she had adopted while the pregnancy progressed. “Are these clothes appropriate for what he has planned?”
“I think he’ll be satisfied no matter what you are wearing, Lady.”
“Then take me to him.”
Rafael spoke to his AI in a low voice, and the white light of a teleport matrix surrounded them. When it cleared, they were standing in the VIP embarkation lounge at the Citadel spaceport hub. Rafael led her down the transfer passage toward the outer hatch of the Starlight, a giant arrowhead of white metal that she could see through the windows that lined the hallway. They entered the primary airlock, and Rafael sealed the hatch behind them. When the inner door slid open, he waved her forward.
“He’s waiting for you in the main cabin, Lady. If you need me, I’ll be in the forward control center, but otherwise I will give you privacy.”
Layla nodded and walked down the short corridor to the inner hatch he had indicated, while Rafael left her down a side passage. She tapped lightly on the door control, and the hatch slid aside, revealing a large interior room with two couches drawn up below the exterior windows on either side. A dining table with six chairs dominated the rear of the room, set with several covered dishes and two place settings. Violin music played softly in the background. In the open space in the center of the room, Toby stood waiting for her, dressed in the gray tuxedo he had worn to his brother’s wedding, the night he had initiated their relationship.
She stepped into the room, walking slowly forward to stand before him. The hatch slid closed behind her, completing the acoustics of the room, and the music strengthened. The two of them stood silently, each waiting for the other to begin.
Rafael’s voice spoke over the music. “Starlight departing in ten seconds. Enjoy the view.”
They watched while the white city of domes and towers pulled gently away from them, the starkly lit glory of the Citadel coming into full view against the barren landscape of the lunar surface as the ship ascended in a wide spiral.
Finally, Layla nodded her head toward the audiovisual system against the front wall. “I have not heard this music before. Is it yours?”
Toby swallowed nervously. “Yes. I wrote it in the hospital. I never performed it before last night, though, when I made this recording. I wanted this to be just ours.”
She held out her hand to him. “Would you care to lead, Leshir?”
Toby led them in a slow dance, his eyes never leaving her face. When the music ended, they stood silently in each other’s arms when another, more familiar piece of Toby’s music came on. Toby took a deep breath. “When I asked you to marry me back in the hospital, it was an impulsive decision, and I didn’t let myself really acknowledge what it would mean for either of us. I don’t want that to be the start of our life together, Layla. I love you. It took almost dying at the point of Yvette’s sword to bring that into focus for me. You draw my whole life in your wake. Everything I do now is for you; everything I am belongs to you.” He leaned forward and kissed her gently on the lips. “I would die for you.”
She reached up and ran her fingertips along the line of his cheek. “In my time I have taken other lovers, heard the greatest poets and songsmiths of two continents sing my praises, but nothing compares to my name on your lips, Leshir. If I am to be the first mother my race has produced in thirty millennia, then I am honored to bear your child.”
Toby stared at her, eyes bright. “I swore to the Nexus that I wouldn’t let anyone know the details of our deal, but I’ll tell you, if you need to know. All you have to do is ask.”
She met his gaze silently for a time. “I do not need to know the details, Tobias. Just tell me you did it for the right reasons, and I will believe you.”
He stroked his fingers through her loosely braided hair, considering his reply. “I did it for you, and for Antonio.”
“I do not understand—but I will accept your answer.” She leaned forward and kissed him. “I love you, Tobias Jameson.”
Toby took a step backward and knelt at her feet. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a black velvet box, and held it out to her. “Will you marry me, Layla?”
She took the box from his hands and opened it. It held a delicate silver ring, set with a central diamond surrounded by sapphires. She pulled the ring from its place and slid it onto her left ring finger. Then she reached down with her left hand to place her fingers under his chin, lifting his face so she could better see the pattern of his emotions.
“Yes.”
Toby stood and wrapped his arms around her, saying nothing. Then he leaned back and turned his head to the side in a gesture of submission, baring his throat.
She kissed the skin over his pulse, bared her fangs, and bit down into the vulnerable vein in his neck. She heard him gasp when his mortal blood filled her mouth, and the psychic bridge opened between them. She shared with him the memories of the night he had asked her out for the first time, in the garden behind the Embassy in Ottawa after Nick’s wedding. In return, he gave her the night they became lovers in truth, in his apartment in San Francisco.
She drew her fangs out of his flesh, healing the damage, and then laid her head on his shoulder. “It would be a shame to waste this dinner.”
Toby chuckled. “It’s cracked crab on ice. It’ll keep.”
She stood straight and gazed at him with the eyes of a predator, her irises shifting entirely to red. “Then perhaps we can satisfy another hunger first.”
Toby smiled widely. “Rafael gave me the run of the ship. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if we borrowed the Captain’s cabin for the night.”
She reached up and gently pulled the loose end of his tie until the knot unwound. “In that case, Leshir, we are entirely overdressed.”
CHAPTER 25
August 2042; Memphis, Tennessee; Six weeks later
Andrea Daniels sat quietly at the small table in the back of the nightclub. She’d decided not to make a big deal out of the concert, just going for a slightly dressy look, but Scott and Anaba had taken the idea of a Wind’s Night Out and run with it. Scott had dressed up in a tailored blue suit with a dark green tie, looking forward to a rare night off to relax. The Water Sentinel was usually a bastion of serenity, but the impending birth of his second child had left him a raw bundle of nerves for months. Ana, of course, had gone off the deep end, her tight violet dress and horn-rimmed sunglasses offset by the delicate cigarette holder in her right hand. She was the picture of elegance and class, but a century out of style. Naturally, she didn’t give a damn. As far as she was concerned, it was the rest of the world that was out of step. Andrea was the daughter of a politician, and she simply had to admire that level of confidence and self-possession.
The crowd gave their roped off table a wide berth, but otherwise the rest of the club was packed. Then the stage lights came up, and the four musicians of Watered Silk launched directly into their first set, the deep notes of the drums and bass melding with the higher pitches of the guitar. But Andrea had ears only for the descant that sounded above them all, when the violin picked out the spaces between the sounds of the other instruments and stitched the music together. She had been a fan of this band once, she remembered, but that had been ages ago. She was struck by the differences in the music between then and now, sounding smoother and more fluid, and she wondered whether they had grown as artists or she had simply grown more appreciative in the interim.
She reached out with her se
nses and felt the surface thoughts of the crowd pressed against her mind, rapt with wonder while they listened to the harmonies. Then, in the midst of the adulation, she caught a taste of something sour and filled with hatred. Turning her attention away from the music, she picked out the discordant mind and followed her sensory probes with her eyes. He stood in the back of the room, watching, untouched by the heady emotion of the fans around him. A psychic inhibitor protected his mind, but his emotions were strong enough to bleed through his shield, or she would never have detected him.
Andrea turned to Scott and tapped his wrist, reaching out a tendril of thought to forge a shallow psychic link. He glanced at her curiously, and she sent an image of the man to his mind. Then she casually made an L-shape like a gun with her thumb and forefinger and lightly tapped her thumb to the side of her hand. The agent stiffened as he picked out the man she had indicated.
Scowling, he casually laid his hand over Ana’s and used the direct physical contact to link with her and pass on what he had learned. Ana didn’t take her eyes off the stage or acknowledge the message, but Andrea could feel the magician’s sudden burst of fury as Ana silently cast kinetic shields over the three of them. Then the Fire Sentinel stood from her chair and made her way toward the bar at the back of the nightclub, empty glass in hand.
Andrea turned back to Scott, and found a stranger sitting next to her. The Water Sentinel had shifted form so that his face was entirely unrecognizable. Then Scott stood and followed Ana, working his way toward their target, as Ana approached from the other direction, ostensibly returning from the bar with a fresh drink.
Andrea watched the target carefully and was the first to see when he became aware of the danger. Suddenly, he reached into his jacket. Andrea immediately froze him in place with a containment spell, and the two other Sentinels dragged him from the room. Most of the revelers didn’t even notice, but some of them did. She could feel the fear begin to percolate through the crowd when the paranoia set in, each looking suspiciously at the others as they lost track of the music and focused on self-preservation. Andrea was saddened as she watched it happen. They had come for the music and the good cheer, but the evening was tainted as the audience realized their own peril.
The first set closed on a high note, and the band left their instruments on the stage while they made their way around the crowd toward the roped off tables in the back, where Andrea waited. Toby was the first to reach her, and he drew her into a bear hug. Then he waved his hand to the other members of the band.
“Guys, this is my dyad sister, Andrea. I told you about her.” He looked at Andrea. “Andrea, these guys are my best friends.” He pointed to each of them in turn. “Ethan on guitar, Noah on bass, and Matt on drums.”
Ethan offered his hand. He was short, not more than five-foot-nine, with light brown hair that flopped over his forehead. For some reason, it looked more endearing than comical on him. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Daniels. Toby never shuts up about you.”
Toby frowned. “I’m not that bad.”
Noah laughed in a deep baritone. His curly black hair complemented his pale skin. He was clearly the leader of the group, going by his dominant attitude and relaxed air of confidence. “Yes, you are, man. If it’s not about her, then you’re going off about baby preparations.”
Matt grinned at her playfully, his eyes creased with laughter behind the gold wire-frame glasses. He was still vibrating with nervous energy from their performance. “It was quite an eye-opener to see that you Armistice guys are all wrapped up in human drama just like the rest of us, in spite of the extra weirdness.”
“It took us a while to get used to him carrying on conversations with you from three thousand miles away, without a phone, but we’re getting there,” said Ethan. He folded his arms over his chest, drawing attention to his more casual dress than the others, in slacks and a vest over a long-sleeved shirt. The rest of them were in matching black suits and ties, but the dress code apparently didn’t apply to him. “And it was certainly handy to have a wizard around when the effects broke down that one time,” he said with total seriousness. “The way he could fill the room with colored lights just by waving his fingers even got us a write-up in a top-tier trade magazine.”
Andrea snorted when she looked at Toby. “Show off.”
Toby shrugged. “It’s my Gift. Just because we were born to be weapons doesn’t mean we can’t use our abilities just to have fun.” He looked at the empty places at the table next to her. “Weren’t Scott and Ana coming with you tonight?”
The mention of the other Sentinels reminded her of the man they had ejected from the room earlier, and her enthusiasm lagged, though nothing showed in her expression. “They had to step out for a second. They’ll be back soon.”
Toby frowned when he felt her change in mood. “What’s wrong?” he asked silently.
“It doesn’t matter, Toby,” she sent back along the link. “It’s almost time for your second set.”
“Andrea—” he said out loud.
“It’s nothing, Tobias,” she said in a voice that brooked no argument. “Enjoy the rest of your concert.”
Toby looked at her in concern, but nodded. “You’ll tell me afterward?” he asked over the link.
“Yes,” she answered, layering the knowledge beyond the level of her surface thoughts so he wouldn’t be able to read her. “Have a good time.”
Toby gave her a pointed look that said their conversation wasn’t over, and then the four slipped back toward the stage.
The two Armistice Security agents returned to the table a few minutes later, their expressions grim. She extended a tendril of thought to each, enough to create a shallow link between them so they could hear each other’s words clearly.
“Was I right?”
“Yes,” Scott said, his thoughts tinted with anger. “Ceramic pistol with explosive and white phosphorus rounds. The club’s security staff had metal detectors, but nothing on hand for nitrates, or they would’ve picked up the explosives. I should have checked their equipment before we allowed you in the door.”
Andrea sighed at his overprotectiveness. “Did he name his target?”
“Who else?” Ana said, her mental voice sharp with fury. “He was going for Toby. He brought anti-vamp ammo just in case Nemesis made an appearance. We handed him off to the club’s security staff, along with his gun. They’ve already called the police to come and collect him.”
“Was he Organic Underground or just some random nutcase?”
Scott snarled mentally. “Underground. He started spouting their manifesto as soon as he could talk again.”
“Shit. Toby’s going to hit the roof.”
“That’s the price he pays for being the spokesman for those cyber terrorists,” answered Anaba. The Fire Sentinel took a sip of her drink and turned her attention back to the concert.
Having observed the Machiavellian tactics of the Nexus firsthand, Andrea couldn’t say much to that, so she kept silent. This was the fourth assassin the Organic Underground had sent after Toby since his involvement with the Nexus had leaked. The band’s security was supposed to be tighter than this. She blinked in surprise when another thought occurred to her. “Their security was on alert for these guys. Did this one get through without help?”
Ana scowled. “Four in two months is a lot more than luck. If they had inside information, it might have made them bolder. We’ll check their personnel files for links to known OU members, but odds are the tracks would be well-covered, and any mole they had in place must have enough latent telepathic ability to keep his thoughts hidden.”
Andrea looked up at Toby while the band began their second set. “Then I should be looking for a shielded mind with access. It shouldn’t be too hard to narrow down the list of suspects.”
Scott glared at her. “You will do no such thing,” he stated flatly over the link. “You’re a civilian, not Armistice Security, and the fact that you’re linked to Toby isn’t widely k
nown. If you come to his defense, you’ll only become a target yourself.”
“He’s my dyad brother, Scott. Are you suggesting that I stand by and let him or his family be slaughtered?”
“Don’t worry about it, Andrea. I’m sure Nick will have Armistice Security come down on their staff like the hammer of God.”
“Toby would never forgive me if I brought Nick into this. They’re barely on speaking terms as it is.”
Scott was silent for a time. “So we’ll go around Nick and keep it between the Winds. We can probably take care of it quietly enough to keep either of the Jameson boys from finding out.”
Ana smiled. “That could work. Hold on, and I’ll see what the others think.” She stretched out her mind along her own triad link, listening for a very specific pair of psychic echoes. There they are. New Orleans. She lightly touched the unique signature of the familiar minds she had detected, so like her own.
“Hello, Ana,” thought Takeshi. The psychic voice of her triad brother was crisp and clear, despite the distance that separated them. “What can I do for you?”
“Take, I have a favor to ask, and I need you to keep it quiet from Nick.”
Rory’s sigh was audible from four hundred miles away. “What has Toby done now?”
“There was another assassin in the crowd tonight.”
“Shit. What is that now, four? OU again?”
“Yes. This one got closer than the others. I was wondering if maybe they were getting some inside help.”
The psychic temperature of the link between them dropped like a stone. “It would certainly explain a few things,” said Take.
“He brought white phosphorus rounds, in case Layla showed up.”
The telepathic voices went silent and still. “Tell us what you want us to do, Ana.”
“Check out Toby’s security staff, discreetly. I don’t want this getting back to either Toby or Nick.”
“Or Layla,” thought Rory. “If she knew the Organic Underground was targeting the child, she would raze the entire country to burn them out.”
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