Drift: The Renegades Saga: Book Two

by E. M. Whittaker

  Limere rubbed his clammy fingers against his knuckles before tapping Celene’s shoulder. Then he peered past Joe’s athletic form and licked his lips at Maurice’s iced drink. “Reese, I can handle myself.”

  “This ain’t about handlin’ yourself, Limere.”

  The malevolent tone cut through Limere as his fingers delved into his girlfriend’s flesh. “It is, isn’t it?”

  “No, you fool. People are droppin’ like flies, and it’s not just your former partners-in-crime.”

  A short breath left Limere’s mouth. “Yeah, I’m aware.”

  “I’ll give you this… you tried keepin’ me out of trouble. You made me attend college, and I switched majors like you recommended. A degree in law was better than a secondary minor in fashion design. Still, killed my dream. I switched right as the business loan went through, so lyin’ to baby girl cut me.”

  “Reese…”

  “Oh God, stop feelin’ sorry, Lim. We got killers with demonic mages on the loose, and baby girl needs help. Now ain’t the time for a pity party, and I’m sick of everyone fightin’ and avoidin’ each other.”

  “You act like Aviere won’t continue,” Limere countered, sinking his fingers deeper into Celene’s tight muscles. “She’ll react one of two ways—clam up and mope, or fly into a vengeful rage with her sordid coworkers while destroying them in the process.”

  “Baby girl and I can manage her affairs. You lost the workshop, your safe house, and Summer Watson. Without Cel, you’d be back on the street, snortin’ whatever you could find.”

  Limere gritted his teeth before his nails sank into her rippling muscles. He retreated when Celene gasped and elbowed him in his stomach. As he wrapped an arm around his stomach, Limere’s eyes changed colors, reflecting his simmering anger.

  “Thanks for jabbing the knife further. Add salt while you’re—”

  “Lim, quit being an asshole, sit down and smoke before I knock some common sense into your goddamn head. As for Celene, I suppose havin’ her here won’t harm anythin’, granted she behaves herself.”

  “She’ll be fine,” Limere insisted, irises darkening as he drew out his limited power. “Heaven forbid someone has a companion in this bunch. I’m not Aviere.”

  “Maybe not, but daddy’s supervising this afternoon. Save the pettin’ for afterward.”

  Once his vision shifted to monochrome, Limere slipped his hand inside Celene’s before heading into the decorated living room. He ignored the disapproving stare Joe gave as he steered her toward the couch. When she sat and adjusted her dress, Limere hurried and locked the door behind them, staring at the broken glass, which echoed his deteriorating state.

  Sinister laughter reverberated through his mind as he sat beside Celene, but he disregarded it while he waved a hand, signaling to start their impromptu meeting.

  A half hour later, Limere’s bloodshot eyes peeked at the clock above the forty-two-inch television, blinking for moisture to relieve the burning.

  As he focused on the present, two or three muffled voices joined in. Shielding the others from their adversaries depleted him, but sleep was delightful once the demoness whispered to surrender. White noise diminished while Limere rested against Celene’s warm body, straining to understand the discussion before asking pointless questions.

  Heat flooded his face while searing pain throbbed behind his eyes at more newfound colors and light.

  He raised a heavy, numb arm and cracked his wrist, freezing when everyone’s gaze changed to him.

  Before Limere spoke, he regarded each member and covered his left eye, reflecting on each person. To his right, Limere caught his stylish brother pitch forward, sporting another iced Coke inside a frosted glass. From the left, a tender hand squeezed his bicep, then proceeded to his sleeping limb and massaged it.

  Straight ahead, Limere rested on Joe, shaking his head as the werewolf finished another bottle and set it beside three empty ones on the lone reflective glass table.

  Well, Reese, there is one table left, Limere mused. I guess rectangular tables aren’t simple to break.

  “You got balls sleeping through an important meeting, mongrel… unless you tired yourself out earlier.”

  “Yeah.”

  Limere rubbed his brow, noting his greasy scalp as he removed his hat. Dandruff fell, and he did not miss the offended looks from each active member at the meeting.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t shower, but I’ve been busy. Searching for scumbags kills your free time.”

  “Make time. Hygiene and beer are always a high priority.”

  “For you,” Limere snapped. “I was looking for Karyn.”

  “Any luck?”

  “No. Someone is lurking a few miles outside the neighborhood, though. Guess they’re hunting for me and they’re scouting apartments.” A bleak look crossed Limere’s face as he stood and steadied himself with his good arm. “I knew it’d come to this, but I’d hoped for two more days. Make this brief so I can divert their attention.”

  “Leo can track a human,” Joe declared. “Pay attention here. Might be our last meeting together.”

  The prophetic words stirred the demoness as she sniggered.

  He paced through the main area, teetering between smoking and sneaking into the kitchen for a soda. Eventually, he stood at one destroyed table, smirking at the fragments of copper against the sharp shards of glass.

  Celene’s kicking is more effective than a bloody fist.

  “Limmy, we picked up your Book of Shadows and Aquarius’s results.”

  The mention of his best friend increased his headache as he fought against a penetrating cold chill. One hand slid into his back pocket, reassured by the heated metal. “Thanks, Cel.”

  “I’ll decipher her notes so I can help Aviere. I don’t trust those outsiders. They’re uneducated about her disability and the warning signs.” A pretentious tone crept into Celene’s tone. “No offense, but I don’t want Mr. Desperado and his sidekick nosing into our business.”

  “You can’t read my notes,” Limere pointed out, tapping Celene’s nose. “The pages are blank until they’re triggered by magic.”

  “Between Karyn and myself, we possess enough to activate your spells. Dark visions, remember?”

  “It won’t matter if Sis keeps avoiding me. I changed to protect her, but she—”

  “Aviere’s struggling, Limmy. We can’t stand by her until she accepts what must be.”

  Limere stared at the dirty crimson baseball cap and amber-colored glass scattered across the floor before reflecting on his misgivings throughout his entire situation. As faces of people he lost flashed before him, Limere slipped the silver box into his shaky hands.

  As he opened his stash, a worn sneaker kicked broken glass across the living room.

  “Jesus Christ, I’m tired of dragging my sister through mud to see reason. I don’t have the strength anymore. If Aviere wants to avoid me until everything is over, that’s her choice. Those agents won’t cover up her secrets, though. The human intends on digging up everything until Sis is exposed to the feds.”

  Carbonation fizzled as another bottle cap opened across from Limere. “A phone call to your stepfather will solve your problem. But then, zapping them with magic might be more effective.”

  “Take it easy, Joe. You’ve only got two weeks of beer.”

  Limere groaned as he noticed Joe take a modest swig from the bottle. “I’m preparing for mass hysteria. Aviere and Jem try my patience, but I can handle their drama. However, Aviere and Celene’s grief will double once you kick the bucket.”

  “Have some sympathy, old timer,” Limere said, hugging himself. “I’m not a random person off the street. You’ve known me since—”

  “Real men aren’t pussies. You had my respect until you spewed out sentimental bullshit.”

  “For your daughter, not me.”

  “Something always occurs when women avoid picking up their phones, boy. Now, continue before I snoop through your sister’s ro
om for any clues about her latest life-threatening escapade.”

  “When Chelsea broke into the shop, she stole two trial drugs from the safe and several vials of Sis’s blood.” The sickening realization was out before Limere could stop himself. “There was one for my headaches, and then one week of Aviere’s antitoxin. There were seven tainted vials set aside for testing once the serum mutated.”

  “If they’re usin’ tainted blood and sellin’ synthetic narcotics, it’s only a matter of time before people find out about her,” Maurice said behind him. “I don’t know whether to rely on those weirdos or not, Lim. The mage is a wild card, and I’m leaning toward sympathizing with the human.”

  “No one would miss Shawn Peters if he went swimming with piranhas, Reese. In fact, one of you should promise to send him one. Losing his trigger finger might prevent him from shooting Sis again. Tell him someone resurrected me and had a sense of humor turning me into a flesh-eating fish. There’s something weird about Peckerhead, and I don’t like it.”

  “Maurice, Limere’s on point. Someone jeopardized Aviere’s health to numerous organizations. She’s lucky the appropriate parties contained it, but hands might change with her never-ending bad luck.”

  A gentle knock on the apartment door stopped Limere’s retort about the neurotic agent and his high-pitched voice. He hurried toward the door but ceased when Joe opened it, guarding the entrance.

  Limere’s eyes grew larger when his monochrome vision returned and adapted to the brighter auras among shades of black and white. Several gray auras stood behind the werewolf. A dark square floated beside one aura and he made out his energy patterns over the object.

  “Joe, someone’s carrying my Book of Shadows. Toss it to Celene till we’re finished.”

  “How can you miss Leo’s shiny surfer boy complexion? His shampoo makes his hair shine like a Pantene commercial.”

  “My vision’s screwy,” Limere explained. “It wavers between color and old television show quality.”

  Stunned silence ensued as the book landed on the three-seater sofa.

  Limere shifted his focus toward the auras again and glittering silver represented a piece of paper fluttering to the floor. A gray line went around the object before another white book thumped against someone’s skull.

  Darren gave them everything. Good job. Now we can eliminate possible suspects since I’m handing Sis everything I discovered relating to Mom’s death.

  As his hand patted the couch, warm hands planted the opened book on his lap. “Usually you can see, Limmy.”

  “Headache,” he murmured, caressing the frayed leather page. “Kind of groggy. I’ll remove the spell for you. Just give me a minute, okay?”

  Two hands wrapped around another object. “This produces enough energy to remove your magic. Stop fretting. Karyn doesn’t mind helping us once Aviere’s anger simmers a little.”

  Summer, Celene has this. I won’t be far behind you, but I can’t leave without giving them closure. The girls deserve it, even if Aviere refuses to acknowledge the truth.

  “Journals? What are these goin’ to prove?”

  “Aviere kept meticulous records on everyone she knew,” Limere responded. “The frayed book began when she associated with pharmaceutical corporations and Underground workers. Use them to contact any companies Donahue might associate with. It’s an extensive list.”

  “Yeah… I presented a copy to those agents, but nothing came from my fruitless offer except a shitty Subway sandwich and a flat Cherry Coke,” Joe grumbled. “He demanded money for stealing his shit, too. Not sure if the human is ballsy or into pain, but Aviere named him right. He has potential when he’s angry.”

  “Papa, you went to the urgent care center over onions.”

  For once, Limere whistled at Celene’s hushed tone as dark liquid shook inside Joe’s glass bottle.

  “Maurice, come with us and hunt for Karyn. We’ll break into the pharmaceutical building while Limere’s handling Evan Donahue. I’ll leave Celene with Limere, in case he runs into any issues.”

  “No. I’ll accompany you, Papa. Let Reese stay with Limmy.”

  “I gave you an order,” the werewolf said with a growl afterward. “Sentimentality won’t earn—”

  “When Mama or Aviere die, I’ll bar you from saying goodbye or stealing one last beer,” Celene snapped. “Aviere might choose to avoid Limmy, but Maurice didn’t know about his dreaded one-way ticket to the Undertaker. If loving somebody is sentimental, then I’d rather know love than emptiness.”

  “You’ll be empty for a long time, pup. Death tears mated pairs apart.”

  “I’m aware. Nonetheless, I’d rather try intervening instead of never knowing the end. I’ll live with the consequences if my plan fails.”

  Limere twisted a thick silver ring while tuning into Celene’s spirited bravado, contrasting against her wavering aura. He slipped a hand over hers before the dry fingers of his other hand flipped through each page.

  Once he reached a page ripped from its binding, Limere stopped and narrowed his eyebrows.

  Summer, what caused you to tear a page—

  “Lim, keep Celene here,” Maurice intruded. “I’ll call you before we attack Donahue. Maybe I’ll hang Chelsea and Desmond once I meet them. Just keep their pet demon away while we’re inside and stay clearheaded.”

  Ice-blue eyes shot to Maurice at his matter-of-fact tone. “This isn’t like you, Reese. You avoid conflict. Rushing to find Evan isn’t rational when he’s paying mages to patrol the Government District and Central Baltimore’s perimeter.”

  “You’re right, but unlike Celene, I have a chance to do somethin’ for Karyn. I can’t allow those grubby mages to use her like cannon fodder. Reggie might haunt me, and I ain’t cool with lingerin’ ghosts. You’ll be bad enough, and I assured him I’d protect his woman.”

  Each clanking ice cube reverberated from Maurice’s frosted glass and sent shock waves through Limere’s ears. He gritted his teeth until he directed dark energy through his fingers and tore the glass away from Maurice. Once condensation hit his damp fingers, Limere drained the cup, secretly praying for rum inside the carbonated beverage.

  Sugar coated his tongue instead of the bitter alcohol he craved.

  “Don’t lose your shit, Lim.”

  Limere gritted his teeth as Maurice’s scathing tone reached his ears. “Ice clanked against your glass.” The slight sugar rush dulled his headache. “Besides, I’m functional enough. If we wait any longer, I might be useless.”

  “Your eyes show somethin’ other than pain, though. They’re clouded, like a dyin’ man. It’s a shame since we started gettin’ on and all.”

  While the reminder came off in jest, Limere bit his lip and seized his hat. “Recall what I said about rubbing salt in wounds earlier.”

  “Ain’t rubbin’ nothing, Lim. I can’t dissuade you, and I ain’t goin’ to. To be frank, I counted on you settlin’ your feelings with Aviere before leavin’ us, but hope differs from reality. She had her chance, I suppose.”

  “Aviere will come around. If Mr. Agent doesn’t sway her, someone else will.”

  “Save your breath.”

  “Don’t you have any hope?” Limere asked, bunching his hat underneath his clammy fingers. “She’s improving. Aviere took a stand and stopped teetering about decisions, even if her sanity’s questionable.”

  “You’d have better luck gettin’ the human to persuade her over a missin’ ghost. Gunther made his choice, and I’m blamin’ him for this entire fiasco. If he’d stayed home and stop appeasin’ baby girl, you’d have never gone astray.”

  “From this?”

  “The whole situation, startin’ with those haywire powers of yours.”

  Limere waved his hand over his body and allowed Maurice’s resentment to roll off him. “No. Gunther wasn’t liable for my poor decisions in my mid-twenties. That is what this situation stems from… my decisions and inability to tie up loose ends. Stop trying to look for hidden mean
ings when the answers are straightforward.”

  “So, you’ll roll over and die like—”

  “Maurice, I’m not discussing this anymore.” Streaks of light surged through Limere’s irises as he crossed his arms. “You’re free to settle things once you succeed me. Until I’m six feet under, soulless or scattered to ashes, you’ll respect my wishes and let me determine how I’m saving Aviere.”

  “I’m not disrespectin’ you, but Aviere’s been through enough. Don’t continue her misery because you’re listenin’ to the poisonous bitch cravin’ power she shouldn’t have.”

  “Fighting her is hard.” The explanation sounded hollow the longer Limere reflected on his pessimistic tone. “None of you understand.”

  “Every one of us has lost someone in this room,” Maurice argued. “In addition to Reginald, I mean.”

  “Reggie—”

  “Lim, you mean somethin’ to each of us, even if you’re an asshole on coke or stoned off your ass. I can handle your decision, but the three of us—no, this pack—we’re around for the aftermath, when Aviere turns into a gibberin’ mess.”

  Sweaty fingers clutched at Limere’s forearm. “Yeah… I’m sorry, Reese.”

  “I’m not upset at you. You’re fixin’ your screwups. It’s just… you know… between your mama, Gunther, and your numerous lockups, it takes a toll on anyone, especially a delicate girl like her. At least give Aviere a smoother transition instead of fallin’ on her ass without a Kabooti cushion for her broken tailbone afterward.”

  Acrylic fingernails indented into Limere’s locked muscle as Celene clutched onto him.

  “If you stop this and give baby girl closure, I’ll stop regrettin’ my setbacks. I’ll finish what you started like you wish. That’s why I’m leavin’ Celene with you. She doesn’t deserve this, either.”

  “Reese, wait.” Limere’s gaze trailed to the entrance where a flicker of light caught his attention. “Get going. Something flashed at the door.”

  “Don’t hang around long, Maurice,” Joe warned before footsteps thumped against the coarse mat. “We won’t be given a second opportunity to attack Donahue.”

  An awkward silence followed as the door creaked. A cool draft swept through the apartment and Limere stared at the shiny aura lingering behind. He crooked his index finger toward the figure, but they remained in place as darkness cloaked the radiant light.