Valor: The Custos Saga

by Jessica Tastet

  “Nonsense.” Alfred glared at him down his long nose. “You young people know nothing.”

  Echo chimed in enthusiastically. “Then tell us.”

  “It isn’t my place.” Alfred shook his head. “But I will say, the book throughout time has found its way to Valor.”

  “Throughout history?” Cain asked. “There has been more than one Valor?”

  Alfred shushed him. Cain coiled back as if he’d lashed out at him the sound had been so forceful. “We don’t speak of these things. I’ve said too much. Let us disperse before we get into dangerous territory.”

  With that, he walked away.

  Cain and Falcon exchanged a look but neither said anything. Cain stored that tidbit of information with everything else he’d gathered and could use to go up against his father.

  Ten

  She didn’t belong with them. Kline lurked in the shadows, darkness his cover. He watched from afar, but it didn’t matter. He could hear all their thoughts.

  She stumbled in those five-inch heels and a string of profanity ran through her mind, but not past her lips.

  Control. Good.

  The hairy one laughed. “She can’t hold her liquor. I told you not to give her that last one.”

  “Shut up,” the strange looking one called Denise replied. “She’s fine.”

  “It’s just those fucking heels you dressed her in.” The speaker was the one that Kline disliked. He was too close to her, touching and brushing against her each chance he had. It caused an uneasiness in him and he wasn’t sure why. He’d never spoken to her, but he’d watched her from afar for days. He’d noticed the way she bit her bottom lip when she was deep in thought, and the way her entire demeanor changed when she was talking to people as if she were putting on a show.

  Her appearance still startled him after days. Her long hair fell perfectly into place no matter what she was doing, and although her eyes hadn’t met his own, the clear blueness of them had mesmerized him through glass and a few mirrors. Her heart shaped face was delicate, but her thoughts were tough. Such a strange contradiction that stirred him and intensified his fascination.

  I’m not drunk you idiots. Oldest trick in the book. Dump it in a glass when you aren’t looking.

  Her thoughts were strange. Kline knew these were what humans called friends, but she didn’t hold them in high esteem.

  She stumbled again, but he could tell it was forced this time. “I think I just need to sleep.”

  “Come on, one more stop,” Denise whined. “We always get a night cap at Trace’s.”

  David’s hand came to the small of Angelica’s back. “I can take her home.”

  Kline tensed and his vision darkened. David’s thoughts licked in and out with alcohol, but they involved thoughts of what he could do to her as he tucked her into bed.

  As if. Not going to happen, jackass.

  Kline chuckled to himself to retain his silence. She could read Kline’s thoughts as well. This had caught him off guard the first time he’d watched her. He’d only been told that she was one of the targets, not what abilities she possessed. She was a strong telepath. She closed herself off, and still the thoughts around her filtered in. He had to remain a safe distance so his own thoughts didn’t transmit.

  Denise stopped in the middle of the street. “No.” She placed her hands on Angelica’s shoulders. “You are in New Orleans, the party capital of the world as far as I’m concerned.” She grabbed Angelica’s chin. “Wake up!”

  Angelica gritted her teeth and that smile Kline had come to know appeared on her lips. It was fake. Her real smile was more natural and slightly lopsided.

  I’d like to wake you up with a swift kick to your tiny ass.

  “Okay, one more drink. But I’m doing this under protest.”

  Denise released Angelica’s chin and twirled in the street. Kline stepped further into the darkness as Rodney scanned the street. They were the only ones on it right now, and Kline hid only thirty feet away.

  A car door slammed and drew his attention toward Toulouse Street. Kline could have sworn that he’d been spotted, but no they all began to move forward.

  Angelica looked back though and Kline stilled his heart. Instinct. Custos could hear heartbeats like the inching forward of the second hand on a clock. She couldn’t do it though. The humans only had drops of Custos blood inside them. It gave them the abilities, but not the senses on steroids effect.

  She tilted her head though and listened.

  What is that? Something pounding?

  I must be imagining it.

  She shook her head and followed the group.

  The ramifications of her thoughts jolted through him. That wasn’t possible. She shouldn’t hear anything. None of the humans could. It had been part of his guard studies. Lucilius would believe she was the one.

  He’d kill her.

  A strange emotion flooded through him as he stood in the dark watching them walk away. Was that panic? He wasn’t even sure.

  He could wait though. He could watch her more before he reported it to Lucilius. He could keep this to himself. It would be real simple since Gint was caged for the night. It was Kline’s job to watch the women and assess the danger before Gint did his duty.

  Gint the sadist. The man who brought death; controlled by Lucilius, who thought nothing of killing these women, but wanted as much information from them before he allowed Gint to torture and kill them.

  Yes, he could keep this to himself for now.

  A slight shuffling nearby drew him from his thoughts. A tall figure wearing a hoodie strolled down the street with his hands tucked into his jean’s pockets. He looked like a local just passing through, but something made Kline pay closer attention.

  He walked slowly, trailing the group by twenty yards. He kept pace with the group though. Kline thought he might be imagining but then he slowed again as they slowed.

  Under a dim street lamp, his face fell out of the shadows of his hoodie, Kline recognized him. Dark Soldier Falcon.

  He had another name as well. The one he used when he pretended to be a Vindica member instead of a Dark Soldier. Kline had yet to learn it.

  So whom was he watching her for? The Vindica or the Dark Soldiers?

  This could be problematic for his plans. This guy had just moved himself to the top of Kline’s need to identify list.

  Eleven

  Angelica sifted through the bins of crystals, studying their small black printed labels. Gregory, another employee, had mentioned that they had healing properties. They looked pretty, but she wasn’t certain about this healing business.

  The tiny bell jingled over the door and Angelica straightened up as a young woman entered. The blonde hesitated at the antique dolls to her left and city souvenirs to her right. Angelica had suffered the same reaction. The shop hadn’t decided its identity yet.

  The woman tucked her arms close to her chest and eyed the dolls with mistrust

  “Can I help you?”

  Angelica smiled, but the woman’s gaze didn’t shift from the porcelain faces.

  “I have an appointment.”

  “Oh.” Angelica nodded, understanding her discomfort. “He’s finishing up with the last appointment now. You can wait by the door or you can browse the store.”

  “Thanks,” she said finally looking to Angelica, her lips twitching. “I’ve never done this before. My friend made the appointment and then had an emergency. Is he any good?”

  Angelica smiled. He’s cheating on you. He has been for months. He plans on leaving you next week. “He’s better than most.”

  Angelica cringed. Gregory was the worst of the three psychics that worked out the back room. He was a complete fraud, and Angelica hadn’t seen him do a correct reading yet. Gregory insisted that the psychic energy of the Quarters spoke to him. Yep, strange one. Annabel at least had people instincts, and could read body language. Madame Regina, the owner, seemed to be the only one of the three with any psychic ability. Even she
didn’t get a connection every time like Gregory claimed to have.

  The couple that had entered earlier pushed their way through the beaded doorway. His face was stiff, his eyebrows were furrowed in a cross sort of way, and his eyes stormed with anger. The woman’s lips trembled and her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

  Angelica sighed. Gregory had told her that she’d never have a baby. They’d been trying for four years.

  A tremble ran through Angelica. The woman was pregnant now. Five weeks. There’d been a party with a few drinks. They’d relaxed. Angelica stopped the vision there.

  The woman looked back toward the curtain as the other woman disappeared behind the wooden beads.

  The woman ran a hand over her flat belly. “He could be wrong.”

  The man snarled. “I’m more psychic than he is. Let’s go get a drink at that bar we saw earlier.”

  The woman turned and met Angelica’s eyes. Angelica smiled.

  You know you’re pregnant. They’ll have a test at that store you passed earlier. You don’t have to wait to find out.

  The woman’s eyes cleared. “I need to get something at that store we passed earlier.”

  “Fine, let’s get out of here.”

  Angelica returned to her crystal gazing, a smile plastered on her lips. That had felt good. It was rare for her to feel good about using that particular ability. It usually felt dirty to dip into someone else’s mind. She didn’t usually implant positive thoughts; hence the guilt.

  The bell jangled again, and Angelica turned to meet the new customers, feeling rather pleased with herself.

  Lysander’s tall, brooding figure erased the smile from her face.

  “How did you find me?” It popped out before her thoughts could organize themselves.

  He smiled. “I didn’t. I came to have a reading.”

  Had he really? It sounded like a line, but maybe Annabel, Gregory, or Madame Regina belonged to the Vindica. Angelica had found herself suspicious of everyone since the vase exploded.

  “Our psychic on duty is not very psychic, but I have a feeling you know that.”

  He moved closer to her, and her body tingled.

  “Couldn’t you help me with a reading?”

  His eyes seared through her and her temperature raised a notch… or two.

  Angelica licked her lips. “What would you like to know?”

  He grinned, revealing his perfect teeth. Damn. She wasn’t some doe-eyed schoolgirl with a crush. It was too dangerous to get involved with him after what she’d learned.

  “Why didn’t you tell me when we first met?”

  “Do you tell strange women something like that?”

  “What?” He stepped closer. “It’s my best pick up line.”

  Angelica laughed, and she felt the tension ease. “You wouldn’t use it as a pick up line if those white jackets had tried putting you away.”

  His face contorted and his tone was sharp. “You weren’t protected by your guardian?”

  Angelica struggled to breath as his strong, manly protective emotions consumed her. Pulling the threads tighter around that wall separating his thoughts from hers, she tried not to allow his urges to intoxicate her. “My Grams was the one who tried to commit me.”

  He stepped closer and she could feel his breathing. She wanted to touch his chest and feel it rise and fall beneath her palm. He must be doing something to her because this was so unlike her.

  “John would like to speak to you.”

  And there it was. Reality crashing down on her shoulders. “How do I know if I can trust all of you?”

  His fingers reached out and trailed down her arm. She steadied herself against the chill. It was too intimate for work and a blush heated her. “Your abilities will not lie to you. Trust them.”

  Her instincts were crap when he was around.

  The back curtain parted noisily and the woman emerged smiling and relaxed.

  Gregory had told her that the scuzz bag boyfriend was going to propose to her next week.

  What a shock it will be when she finds him in bed with his coworker.

  Angelica sighed. Ms. Soon-to-be-Scorned was on her own for this one. No whispering in her head could put a positive spin on that mess.

  Gregory stood between the strings of beads evaluating his fingernails and jutting out his chin. “You can go now, Angelica. Annabel should be here in fifteen minutes and I have no more appointments.”

  Angelica wasted no time grabbing her knapsack and heading toward the door.

  Lysander followed her. “Do you mind if I walk you home?”

  Manners or a hidden agenda? She grappled back and forth between the two. He had to have some flaw.

  “I suppose,” Angelica said smiling. “I’m not inviting you up though. I don’t think we’ve progressed to the stage of you meeting my friends.”

  “Two dates isn’t enough?”

  Angelica looked sideways at him. Two dates? Since when did this count as a date. “I don’t think I’ll even let my future husband meet these friends.”

  He laughed, soft and deep. She enjoyed the sound of its softness. They took St. Ann Street to Royal. Angelica didn’t notice the darkness of the hour until they left the bright lights of Bourbon Street.

  “Isn’t the city beautiful at night? Almost like it was a hundred years ago.” She could imagine the horses and carriages instead of the parked cars. Dirt instead of black top.

  He nodded. “Dangerous, too.”

  But couldn’t they take care of themselves? She must admit that safety didn’t play too often in her thoughts. She’d always assumed she could take care of any threats. But if he said it was dangerous, what did he believe to be out there?

  When they reached Royal Street, Angelica spotted a woman in a neglected store doorway. Beneath mounds of curly coffee hair, intense brown eyes scrutinized her. The woman’s gypsy skirt and big bosom peasant top appeared normal, but the high cheekbones, flawless tawny complexion, and bottomless eyes caused Angelica’s flesh to prick.

  “You shouldn’t be out at night.” Her rich deep voice rang out.

  The chill vibrated through her and increased as Lysander stepped closer. “Lady, go away.”

  The woman’s scrutiny burned through her. “People like you are killed when they are out late at night.”

  Angelica shuddered and Lysander draped his arm around her shoulder and squeezed. “I’ve got it under control.”

  Angelica felt as though everything in her head opened to this strange woman. The walls neglected.

  Her eyes gazed into Angelica’s own. “Fate is the devil and will not be ignored forever. War and darkness will descend upon your people. You will answer its call.”

  Angelica allowed Lysander to pull her away. “Don’t the crazies get hospital care?”

  Lysander continued the brisk pace. “Not all the street psychics are insane.”

  And there it was. That panic fluttering in her middle. Did she really want to get involved with whatever this was? A few weeks ago her biggest issue was convincing Trevor to stop planning con jobs. The weight of what this place could be scared her. She’d come here for answers, but the possibilities were beginning to send warning signs that leaving may be her best option.

  At the door to the apartment staircase, she turned to Lysander to say good night. She wondered what it would be like to kiss him. To really kiss him, not just because she was conning him.

  She couldn’t though. He and Landon House came as a package deal, and she wasn’t certain about the package yet.

  He smiled. “Shall I see you tomorrow at Landon House then?”

  “No restraints or tests?”

  “I promise.” He laughed. “Maybe later though.”

  She didn’t want to go. Everything in her screamed that it was against what she’d been taught. But if she didn’t go, she’d need to give up on ever knowing about her mother Lily. She couldn’t make that choice. It wasn’t in her. “I’ll be there tomorrow.”

 
“Good night, Angelica Acacia.”

  Her mouth opened to correct him. To add that last name that she’d dropped long ago on those front steps of Grandmother Angel’s house. But her instructions were to never use it. A part of her to remain hidden, along with everything else.

  She closed her mouth and unlocked the door and disappeared into the courtyard without a backwards glance.

  This is what they meant when they said playing with fire. She could feel the embers igniting and the whole charade going up in flames.

  Twelve

  Reximortum assessed his accommodations with a quick scan. His study had gone untouched, though this wasn’t even his home anymore.

  “Sir, you mentioned that the event will occur here. Is there someone specific we should be watching?”

  Rex signed. Dark Knight’s anxiousness wore on his nerves, which were already tense.

  “Who have you examined so far?”

  Dark Knight jostled about, jarring furniture as he moved around the room. “Serena Landon, John Landon’s adopted daughter has been assigned someone.” He paused, and Rex took that as a sign that he needed to pay attention. “There’s a new prospective. An Angelica Acacia. Nothing is known about her yet, but I’ve assigned someone to find out though.”

  Rex nodded. “Don’t waste your energy on Serena Landon. Keep me updated on the new one.”

  “You believe it to be the new girl and not Serena Landon?”

  “No.” Rex shook his head. “Serena is not powerful enough to be a threat. This new one may be.”

  Tom entered the room. Rex had noticed his step was slower, and his messages suffering. He was nearing seventy and maybe he’d like to retire. Rex couldn’t imagine not having him around, but he’d been loyal and deserved the opportunity. He’d broach it after the coming weeks.

  Tom nodded. “He’s here, Sir.”

  Rex felt a jolt in his chest. “Send him in. Thanks, Tom.”

  “Who’s here?” Dark Night looked to him expectantly.

  “I’m sorry, Dark Knight.” Rex straightened his tie. “This is a private meeting that I’ve gone to great lengths to arrange. You’ll have to excuse me.”