Touched by Light

by Spangler, Catherine

  “Pity. You have a very nice backside.”

  Was he trying to bait her? She honestly didn’t know, as she was extremely rusty in the flirtation/sexual innuendo department, and had never been a femme fatale to begin with. She decided the best course was to bring the focus back around.

  “Why did you change your mind about Sean being involved with the search for Matt and/or the Belian? I guess they’re one and the same, if they’re inhabiting the same body.”

  “It is an odd juxtaposition, and one I’ve never come across.” Adam sat on the love seat, stretching his long legs to the outside of the coffee table. “I wasn’t going to involve Sean, but there are two reasons I’ve changed my mind. The first is that it would be a major battle to keep him out of it. It’s one I would ultimately win, but at what cost? The second is Miriam’s sudden presence here. We’ve already established there has to be a reason for her involvement, and if she saw Sean in her dreams, then he’s meant to be a part of this.”

  “So it’s back to the woo-woo factor.”

  “I never said this was an exact science.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  He chuckled, the harsh sound of his voice and his rare humor oddly endearing. “Poor Dr. Reynolds. You’ve shaped your reality with logic and math theorems, only to find there are things that go bump in the night and that don’t give a damn about known science. It’s got to be disconcerting.”

  The warmth in his gaze sent more heat skittering through her. God help her, she was determined to keep her emotional distance. “What sort of reconnaissance are we going to do?”

  “Exactly what we discussed earlier: Check out the Riverwalk, looking for the spot you saw in your vision.”

  She remembered how grueling the process had been when they’d looked for the next target of the Dallas bomber, and how they’d been too late on two occasions. “What if that doesn’t work?”

  “Then we’ll see what Miriam has in her bag of tricks, and take it from there. I have the feeling we’re about to run out of time. Unfortunately, for the moment, there’s not a damned thing we can do about it.”

  Julia had the same feeling herself. And she’d already seen firsthand what monsters could do.

  WILLIAM Bennett stepped off the Greyhound bus and walked outside the terminal. Damn, he’d forgotten how intense the Houston traffic could be, even during the early afternoon. Funny how certain things slipped your memory when you were locked away in the bowels of hell. He sure didn’t remember which Metro bus he needed to find his way to his brother’s apartment. Then he’d have to check in with his parole officer. Yeah, like that was something to look forward to.

  Before his release, he’d had to commit to living with Donald for a while and going to work at the sheet metal plant. His brother was a supervisor there and had gotten William a job on the assembly line. Manual labor—after he’d owned a successful business. But that business was gone now, along with his house. It burned in William’s gut.

  He looked down at the ill-fitting khaki slacks and oxford shirt he was wearing—the one set of civilian clothing given him for his release. He had fifty dollars in his pocket and would receive another fifty after he reported to his parole officer. A hundred fucking dollars and an assembly-line job. Definitely scraping the bottom of the barrel.

  He could lay the blame for his ruined life squarely on one lying, cheating bitch. Just the thought of Julia Reynolds raised his already high blood pressure even more. She’d betrayed him—first by ignoring his orders and dating other men. Then, when he’d punished her, she’d called the police on him, testified against him in court. She’d been such an actress on the stand, playing the abused victim, lying, saying she’d never come on to him, even denying they had a relationship. The whore.

  Still, thinking of her made him horny. She’d had a lush, curvy body, and he could still remember how good it had felt, fucking her and finding release inside her. It had been his right to discipline her, but he’d been punished for it. She would pay. They all would.

  He would play the game, would tell the parole officer whatever he wanted to hear. Even though he wasn’t supposed to go anywhere near Julia, he would find her. He would make it clear, once and for all, that he was not to be thwarted.

  She would be very sorry she’d ever challenged him.

  NINE

  DRIVING a dark green Ford Mustang GT that had seen better days, Sean shifted gears and gunned it. Nothing wrong with the engine, Miriam thought, clutching her backpack against her. She tried not to gasp as he swung around a slower-moving car, missing it by what looked like a few atoms.

  “Would you slow down?”

  His ebony gaze flashed to her. “Scaring you, punk girl?”

  What a bastard. “Uh, yeah. I’d like to live a little longer, like another sixty or seventy years or so.”

  “Oh, that’s right. You’re just an ordinary, fragile human.” His tone implied that ordinary humans were scum. He took a turn way too fast, and she slid toward him.

  Grabbing the door armrest, she fought the urge to close her eyes. “News alert, jerk boy. You’re human, too, if I understood Adam correctly. So be sure to crash on your side.”

  He swung into the Comfort Inn parking lot, screeched to a neck-jolting halt. “Yeah, but I’m a lot stronger, and a hell of a lot smarter. I heal a lot faster, too.”

  He was right about the last statement. Already, Miriam could see the red on his face was fading, the burns less intense. “So you can heal yourself, like you did my arm?”

  He leaned back in his seat. “I can repair certain things completely, given time. Gunshot wounds, broken bones, heavy blood loss, things like that, are more of a problem.”

  “Which means you’re mortal. You can bite it, just like any of us.” She opened the car door, got out. “But unlike you, I don’t have a death wish. So let’s take the rest of this pleasant jaunt a little slower, okay? I have no qualms about asking Adam to send you to Alaska. Might cool you off a little.”

  He scowled at her implication she’d be all too glad to rat him out to Adam. She offered a feral smile, pleased to have this one hold over him. “I’ll be right back.”

  But as she walked to her room, she had to push away the edges of utter panic. What had she gotten herself into? She’d seen a lot of things in her psychic forays, knew there were a lot of bump-in-the-night things that the average person had no clue existed.

  But this—superpower beings from Atlantis battling on Earth in the ever-popular good versus evil theme—took the prize. And both Sentinels and Belians look like ordinary humans. She thought of Adam and Sean’s striking looks, and the magnetism both exuded. Okay, maybe not totally ordinary, but still. If Dr. Reynolds hadn’t been so upset around Adam, Miriam would never have taken a closer look, would never have guessed he wasn’t a normal human.

  She grabbed her larger backpack, stuffed her things into it, her attention still on this morning’s events. She’d also been more than a little shocked to discover Dr. Reynolds had precognitive abilities. Who would have guessed? Plus the professor was a conductor—a matched human conduit for a Sentinel.

  She found it very interesting that conductors were always the opposite sex of a matched Sentinel and wondered if that created some sort of sexual attraction between them. It sure seemed like Dr. Reynolds and Adam had a chemistry thing going, especially given the way he had looked at Dr. R., his gaze heated and devouring.

  More than I want to know, Miriam decided as she went into the bathroom and collected her toiletries—the various hair and makeup products she used when she wanted to flaunt convention and project an image totally at odds with whom she really was. She smiled, thinking how her unconventional style had set Sean off. She’d have to play it up even more.

  She would stay and see this through. She’d already decided that when Sean called her a freak and a punk Gypsy. If nothing else, she’d hang around just to annoy the hell out of him. But she had a feeling this wasn’t going to be fun and games. She couldn�
��t shake the gut feeling that something really bad was coming.

  She left her room to find Sean slouching in the hallway. “I told you’d I’d be right back,” she said.

  “Yeah, and Adam told us to play buddy. If anything happens to you, my ass will be in the grinder.” He wrenched the backpack away from her and took off for the parking lot. She had to run to keep up with him.

  “What about my car?” she asked. “I don’t think we should leave it here.”

  “We’ll swing back by to pick it up after I get my stuff. Then I’ll follow you to the hotel.”

  “That will work.” She got into the Mustang.

  They didn’t speak as they drove to his apartment, in an older complex in a rundown neighborhood, at what seemed to be at a slightly lower speed, although the driver’s surly attitude didn’t improve. Nor did his manners when he ordered her to stay put and keep her pepper foam handy.

  She watched him get out of the car, aware of the large gun he wore in a holster beneath his leather jacket. She’d seen the flash of the weapon when he’d dragged her along the Riverwalk. Now she could see the subtle shift of his coat, his right hand ready to reach toward the holster as he walked up the chipped cement steps to a battered metal door and paused. It was stuff like that, along with Adam’s grim vibes, which further convinced her that this Belian situation was very serious business. Sean stood there a few moments, then unlocked the door and went in.

  He returned a short time later with a small duffle and slung it into the back seat. Next they stopped at Taco Cabana, where Sean got two large bags of to-go food. Then they retrieved her car and drove to the hotel.

  The room keys were waiting for them at the desk, as promised. Their suite was two doors down from Dr. Reynolds and Adam. As they entered, Miriam looked around the elegant, inviting living area with appreciation. She wasn’t overly materialistic, but she could enjoy luxury as well as anybody.

  “Must be nicer than you’re used to,” Sean commented. “Taking a break from slumming.”

  Actually, her father made a very good living, and her mother was a psychologist with a private practice, so they lived a very comfortable lifestyle, in a modest but lovely home. Miriam also had a full scholarship to the University of Houston, and earned her own spending money and paid for her course books with her job at the Red Lion Pub, so money was not a problem for her family. Not that she would explain any of that to jerk boy.

  “Oh, you know what bums we Gypsies are. Thieves and liars, too, according to popular bullshit. So, yeah, this place is pretty cushy. Probably lots of small items that will fit easily in my backpack.”

  He almost smiled, but he made a snorting noise instead and turned away. Good thing, Miriam thought, because with his face returning to normal and his great build, he was entirely too attractive. Probably knew it, and had a trail of broken hearts behind him.

  Bad boys were entirely too appealing to a lot of women. Not her. She was waiting for a guy who was smart enough to count to twenty-one without being naked, and who would respect her mind and treat her as an equal. A relationship like her parents had.

  They ate the food Sean had bought, and it was really good for takeout, solid Tex-Mex with some great salsas and homemade tortillas. Miriam ate one taco and one burrito, watching in amazement as Sean tackled a huge pile of en chiladas, burritos, and nachos. She couldn’t eat that much in a day. The guy must have an amazing metabolism.

  “So,” she said as he paused eating to drink his Coke, “who is the missing Sentinel?”

  She could see right away she’d hit a nerve from the flash of pain in his eyes. “His name’s Matt Stevens.” He snatched up another burrito, bit into it.

  “And you know him well?” she pressed, curious about his reaction.

  “Damn it, do you have to talk all the time?”

  No one had ever called her a chatterbox and she’d spoken to him as little as possible. “Sorry,” she said. “It’s just that I’m trying to understand what’s going on here, and from what Adam said, this Sentinel—Matt—appears to be involved in whatever situation you’re so concerned about.”

  “So Adam thinks. But Matt’s just missing, that’s all. There’s got to be some explanation, got to be some reason—Ah, hell.” Sean tossed down the unfinished burrito and rose to pace. “What does Adam know? He’s always so smug, thinks he’s so smart.”

  “According to Dr. Reynolds, Adam is a higher level than regular Sentinels, and more powerful. Maybe he is as smart as he thinks, and knows what he’s talking about. Care to fill me in?”

  “Shit.” Sean ran his hand through his thick black hair. With his dark complexion, he likely had a Hispanic heritage, which might explain some of the fiery temperament. “Matt’s been missing for over two weeks. Adam says he hasn’t been able to get in touch with him, but knows he’s still alive.”

  “And he knows this how?”

  “He can sense the life energies of all the Sentinels and conductors he works with. It’s a Sanctioned thing.”

  Just one more overwhelming bit of information for Miriam to absorb. “Boy, that gives new meaning to the saying ‘reach out and touch someone.’ ”

  That got another almost-smile, but no other information. “So Adam thinks Matt’s disappearance is somehow linked to the Belian,” she theorized. “And if you find one, you’ll find the other? Like the Belian has kidnapped Matt, or something?”

  “Yeah, something like that.” Sean started gathering up the trash and leftover food. “I don’t want to talk about it any more. I don’t like nosy females, anyway.”

  Miriam could tell he was upset, but he didn’t have to be such a jerk. “I don’t like assholes, either.”

  She gathered her stuff and took it to one of the bedrooms. Tossing it on the bed, she turned to close her door. But she hesitated when she glanced in the living room and saw Sean pulling a photo frame from his duffle. He handled it gently, his expression almost reverent as he looked at it.

  She should have left him alone, but she felt compelled to go to him. “What is that?”

  “It’s personal,” he said without looking up.

  “A family picture?” she guessed, coming closer. “Could I see it?”

  He radiated reluctance, but she really wanted to see his family. So maybe she was nosy. “Please? I’d like to see.”

  He turned the frame toward her. It was battered, the wood cracked on two sides, the glass broken. Inside was a photo of a man and woman and a younger version of Sean.

  “What happened to this?” she asked, studying the picture.

  He shrugged, but she sensed sadness rather than indifference. “I guess Matt got upset and broke it. I took it from his house two days ago. The place was a wreck, stuff everywhere.” He seemed to draw in on himself. “No big deal.”

  Like she believed that. The light was beginning to dawn. “So this is Matt. Is he your father?”

  “Not biologically, but he and his wife, Susan, basically raised me. They adopted me nine years ago.”

  Now she understood why he was so upset about Matt’s disappearance. She looked at the vibrant brunette standing next to a man with dark blond hair. “They’re very attractive. Did Susan disappear with Matt?”

  “She’s dead,” he said bluntly.

  Just step right in it, Miri. “I’m so sorry.” Impulsively, she reached over to cover his hand with hers. Her fingers brushed along the wood.

  She didn’t mean to open herself to the energies of the picture; it just seemed to happen spontaneously. A blast of energy exploded around her, followed by a series of terrible, violent images.

  She jolted back like she’d been burned, and stared at Sean, horrified. “Oh, my God.”

  SITTING on the sofa in their suite, Julia longed for a nice soak, and tried not to rub her aching leg too blatantly. She was exhausted and discouraged. Four long hours on the Riverwalk, some on foot, and some via the water taxi service. The water taxi had stopped at numerous places, but unfortunately, many of the umbrella-s
haded restaurant terraces and the shops looked so similar, it was hard to differentiate.

  She’d been certain she’d recognize the area she’d seen in her vision, but hadn’t counted on how everything flowed into the next, how different things looked today than they had in her vision. Last night, she’d seen the Riverwalk packed with people, and today it had been less populated.

  Her failure could mean loss of life. She thought of the bomber in Dallas, how much damage he’d inflicted, even when she had been able to pinpoint his targets. She felt sick inside.

  Adam had been nonjudgmental, but she knew he was disappointed and concerned. He was currently bringing Miriam, who was sitting on the love seat, up to speed on the situation. “So we have a Belian who has possibly possessed the body of a Sentinel—Matt Stevens, who is Sean’s father and mentor.”

  Miriam didn’t look surprised. “Yes, I—Sean told me about Matt.”

  She glanced at Sean, who stood stiffly just inside the entry. His expression was blank, but Julia knew he had to be upset. Adam hadn’t soft-pedaled anything; any hope Sean might have harbored about Matt had just been destroyed. He was too smart to miss the implications.

  “Did he?” Adam sent a speculative glance Sean’s way. “Well. To continue, we know from Julia’s vision there will be some sort of altercation somewhere on the Riverwalk, but we don’t know exactly what, or when, or the precise location. We weren’t able to pinpoint it today.”

  And it was Julia’s fault. Damn it, her presence here was worthless at this point.

  “What type of altercation?” Miriam asked.

  “That’s probably too mild a word. I’m expecting a physical attack or explosion or something that will injure people,” Adam replied. “Belians are adrenaline junkies, and their payback is the rush they get from terror, chaos, and pain. They thrive on those things. That’s why they typically go for a high body count, like the bomber we tracked down last year.

  “The other element is blood, which is how they show honor to Belial, who was their leader on Atlantis, and who demanded the blood of human sacrifices.”