“If we don’t get it right, people will start to be uneasy. They may not know what is wrong, just that something is wrong. I also want you to work with him on people he knows. I’ll help you pull together photos and fill in names, dates, and so forth.”
Half to himself, he said, “It’s a stroke of good luck that the Hunter Division was just transferred out or we’d be in trouble trying to recreate the relationship he had with every one of those knights.
“Sir Hawking. You’re known for being good with stories and that’s what I want you to do. Give Litha a few days to work with him on people and then I want you to make up scenarios and role play with him.”
Ram nodded. “Sure.”
Glen looked at his watch. “Questions before we get started?”
Elora spoke up. “We need a place for Kay to stay.”
Glen grinned. “Not a problem. With almost all the knights shipped out, we’ve got a lot of vacancies. Anybody else?” He paused. When no one else spoke, he said, “Let’s get started on a schedule.”
They decided that Kay would be first up in the personal coach lineup. So he left the conference room with Angel in tow muttering something that may have included the words “ass” and “flabby”.
All parties involved in the construction of the proposed elaborate ruse knew that it wasn’t the clone’s fault, but it was impossible to not resent somebody walking around with Storm’s face, when every one of them was grieving the absence of the real Storm.
Before Litha left to take her own search assignment for the day, she and Glen went over a list of the people Storm would need to get up to speed on. Elora went to her morning class on hand-to-hand with the younger boys and planned to work Angel in between that and her afternoon class.
Glen wrote himself into the schedule “training lunch” every day. It was multitasking. They both had to stop and eat. Glen could discuss the history of Black Swan, and Storm’s unique place in it, while he was eating his midday meal in the conference room, as he’d been doing ever since Storm had gone missing.
Ram, Elora, and Kay were pleased with that arrangement because they could lunch together in quiet camaraderie without the unwanted shadow.
Two and a half hours later, Kay dropped his charge off at Glen’s. Angel’s hair was wet and he was wearing scrubs.
“Why’s he wearing scrubs?” Glen asked.
“Because he worked up a sweat and nobody brought him a change. This is the only thing we could find to put him in.”
“Umm. Good thinking.”
“Glad you approve.”
“Come back after lunch and I’ll have your temporary quarters ready.”
“Okay. So…” Kay looked around. “How’s it feel to fill his shoes?”
Glen shook his head. “I respected him before. Now I think he’s a god.”
Kay smiled and clapped Glen on the shoulder. “The place hasn’t fallen down around your ears. That means you must be doing okay.”
When Kay left, Angel, who had been ignored to the point where he was starting to question his visibility said to Glen, “You know I can talk.”
“What’s that?”
“If you’d asked me why I was wearing scrubs, I could have told you myself.”
Glen stopped and looked at Angel, really looked, for the first time. “My apologies. What would you like for lunch?”
Angel was amused by the breadth of that open ended question. “Twelve ounces of New York Strip, medium rare, with Béarnaise sauce, broccolini still crisp, two poached tomato halves, and French fries. Oh and dessert. Apple pie with cheddar cheese melted on top.”
Angel wore the barest suggestion of amusement while he waited for Glen to tell him he was being ridiculous. Instead, Glen picked up the phone and repeated the order word for word adding, “Two of those. I’ll also have a Coke.”
He looked at Angel with eyebrows raised.
“Water.”
“And one of those big square bottles of water with the tropical flowers on front. I’ll be in my office. Leave the trays in the conference room and call me when it’s here.” Pause. “Yes.” Pause. “Yes.” Pause. “That’s right. Okay. Thanks.
“Let’s go in my office. We need to keep you out of sight until you’re ready to interact.”
The office was only a few feet away. Glen motioned for Angel to enter first and then closed the door behind him. As he sat down behind the large desk, he said, “How was the workout?”
“Hard.”
Glen smiled. “You work out regularly?”
Angel rolled one shoulder like he was testing to see if it still worked. “I walk a block and a half to the garage where my car is parked. Sometimes I slow dance with women.”
Glen looked at Angel like he was waiting for him to get to the part where he described actual exercise.
“That’s about it. No point in overexerting. I have better uses for that energy.”
Glen cocked his head. “Like what?”
Angel grinned. “Wine, women, song, and, in my case horses.”
“You like riding horses.”
Angel barked out a laugh. “No, kid. I like to bet on horses.”
“Oh. So what work do you do?”
“Work?”
“What do you do for a living?”
“Are you listening? I said, I play ponies.”
“You mean you’re a professional gambler?”
“Yes. That’s it exactly. A professional gambler.”
Glen stared at him trying to imagine how Storm’s cross-dimensional counterpart could possibly end up as a professional gambler. It was mind boggling.
“Are you married?”
“Again! Wine, women, and song. Not many wives would appreciate my lifestyle.”
“No doubt that’s true.”
“I have a question for you. How did somebody your age end up wearing the Pope hat to this party?”
“You mean why do I appear to be in charge?”
“Are you suggesting that you’re not in charge?”
“I’m suggesting that, while I’m filling in for the guy who really runs the place, we’re always sixty seconds away from chaos, bedlam, and/or pandemonium. Storm was overseeing to make sure nothing got away from me, which was a comfort I can tell you. He was my security blanket. Now he’s not here. As you know.
“As to how I came to be the last one sitting behind this desk, it’s a long story and we’ve got work to do on you today.
“We’re going to start with simple stuff like what we are and why the other people you’ve met care so much about the guy you look like.”
After lunch Elora came by for Angel.
“Do not speak to anyone on the way to the sparring room. If somebody stops us and presses the issue, I’ll say you have laryngitis. Got it?”
Angel shook his head. “Look. Maybe your Storm is stupid, but I’m not. I believe I can think my way through a simple instruction like keep your mouth shut, without having you be such a condescending…” He wisely decided the prudent thing would be to leave that sentence unfinished.
Elora’s teeth pressed together, but she let the attitude go. After all, it wasn’t as if he had volunteered to work for The Order as the rest of them had. “Good. Let’s go.”
When they got off the elevator at Sublevel 3, the open session time in the fitness center for all personnel who were not hunters or trainees had just ended. That meant they had to pass several women on the way to the sparring room. Angel flirted up every one of them on the way by and every one of them did a double take followed by a look of surprise. When they reached the sparring room, Elora practically shoved him inside.
She looked pissed. “I really needed to include, ‘And don’t flirt with women who are not Storm’s wife’ in my instructions?”
He smirked. “I didn’t bang anybody, did I? What difference does it make?”
“The difference it makes is that Storm is serious minded. He wasn’t into random flirting when he was single! And that goes triple for
now that he’s not! Didn’t you notice how shocked those girls looked?”
Angel shrugged his shoulders and rolled his eyes, which just looked ridiculous on Storm.
“Serious minded. Didn’t flirt even when he was single. Sounds like a douche to me.”
Before he could say, “Oops,” Angel found himself slammed against a wall with the Lady Laiken’s one-handed iron grip around his throat.
“You’re not even worthy of saying his name out loud. Let me tell you something about the guy you will never hold a candle to. I don’t think anybody else in the history of Black Swan could have made a respectable team with an alien woman, a hotheaded fun lover, and a berserker to work with. He’s a great man. And you? You’re just the stuffing in an animated Storm costume.”
Angel sneered at that. Ball bustin’ bitch. But he felt something inside his chest squirm uncomfortably and the muscles in his jaw flexed painfully. For a split second he wondered what it would be like to have people care that much about him, what it would be like to be admired and respected and… loved.
She released him, looking disgusted and like she’d rather be anywhere else.
When Angel was deposited at the vineyard that night, Elora’s words were still eating at him. You’re just the stuffing in a Storm costume. He was tired in body and spirit and mostly just wanted to be left alone. He took his plate to the living room and ate watching TV instead of in the kitchen with Litha and Rosie.
After Rosie was bathed and ready for bed, she went into the living room to say goodnight to the guy who looked a little like her daddy. Litha was bone tired, but still had every day chores to do. She was busy putting laundry away when she heard Angel yell out.
She ran down the hallway to find him on his feet cursing a blue streak.
Litha grabbed Rosie up. “What is the matter with you? This is a child.”
He gaped. “That is not a child! Children don’t burn you when you reach out to pull their hair.” Litha narrowed her eyes and her nostrils flared. “Playfully! Pull their hair playfully!”
“I was just gonna say good night,” Rosie said to Litha in her own defense.
“Yeah. Me, too. I reached out to tug at the end of her hair and she burned the living daylights out of me.”
“Let me see.” He showed it to Litha. Rosie’s little handprint appeared in a bright red perfect outline on his forearm. “Okay. Come with me.”
He followed them into the kitchen. Litha pulled out a barstool and told him to sit while she got ice and aloe out of the cabinet, but he watched Rosie the whole time.
“What is she?” he asked.
“Special,” was all Litha said.
“Yeah. I can see that.”
“I’m sorry.” Rosie offered Angel an olive branch, more with big eyes than words.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Rosie,” Litha assured her. “You should always follow your instincts if you think someone might hurt you.”
Angel was indignant and gaping. “What are you teaching her?!? No wonder she’s a little demon seed!” He was looking for a fight at that point and expected his comment to inflame, but instead, Rosie beamed at him and her mother was unfazed.
“What I’m teaching my child is none of your business.”
“It is when it raises third degree welts on my skin. There is somebody in this room who didn’t do anything wrong.” He looked at Rosie. “And it’s me!”
Rosie giggled at him, which sort of felt like the last straw to a tired and distraught accidental traveler.
“Look. I don’t want to be here. I want to go back where I belong.” As soon as the words left his lips he knew it was a lie, one of the biggest he’d ever told.
That’s the last thing I want.
“Well, you’re stuck with us for now,” Litha said quietly as she smoothed aloe on his burn and secured an ice pack over it.
Angel went to bed right after, every single muscle aching, many he hadn’t known he possessed. The big guy was merciless. Kay. Stupid name for a man. He pushed Angel like he was training for a prize fight with billion dollar stakes. And there was no doubt in Angel’s mind that Kay was enjoying his pain. It might not be so bad if he didn’t know he was going to be expected to get up the next day and do it again.
Stuck with us for now. That was when, in the moments before he was claimed by sleep, the thought occurred to Angel that maybe he didn’t have to go back to his debts, to Baph’s knife, and the nobody who gave a fuck if he lived or died. Correction. There probably were some who would prefer he died.
Maybe the other Storm wouldn’t be back and, maybe, if he actually applied himself and acted like he gave a shit, he could step into the sweet life this other Storm had lucked into. And the regard of all these people who think he shits liquid gold.
Right after Litha put Rosie down for the night, the doorbell rang. She looked through the glass and saw that it was her mother-in-law. While a range of curse words had a play day in her head, Litha called out, “Just a minute”, through the door. She ran down the hallway to the guest room and knocked.
Angel was in bed. He was still awake with a reading light on, bare chested, just wearing pajama bottoms. He was also too tired to get up, so he and his dragon tattoo stayed right where they were. “Yeah?”
She opened the door. “My mother-in-law is here. I need you to stay quiet and stay out of sight.”
“Unless you can hear my snoring from down the hall, that won’t be a problem.”
Litha shut the door and ran back to let Storm’s mom in. When she opened the door, the older woman said, “I’m sorry to come so late, but you’re never here and I was getting worried.”
“And you haven’t seen the baby in a while.” She got a smile and a nod in response. “Come in. Let’s open a bottle of the good Chardonnay and have a talk.”
Litha suggested they sit in the living room and promised to be right back. She poured two glasses.
As she offered her mother-in-law one of them, Litha said, “Evangeline”.
Storm’s mother went by Eva, but Litha thought her name was too beautiful and romantic to abbreviate. It was also gratifying that Eva smiled just a little whenever she heard her given name.
“We need to have a heart-to-heart.” Eva looked concerned, but nodded. “Storm and I both have some secrets.” Eva grew very still. “As it happens our secrets are related to your secrets.”
Litha watched Eva’s reaction carefully. She broke eye contact with Litha then her eyes wandered downward to her wine which she suddenly seemed to find fascinating. She took a sip and waited.
“Before I go further, I must have your promise on Storm’s life that you will never tell what you hear tonight.”
Eva looked worried. “Yes. Of course. What’s wrong, Litha?”
“I’m not joking. Not anyone. Ever. For any reason.”
“I promise.”
Litha took in a deep breath. “You know that Storm is…”
“Special,” Eva interrupted as she stood abruptly. “He’s special. I shouldn’t have come so late. I need to go.” She bent to set her wine glass on the table and started to gather her purse.
“Eva. I know you don’t want to talk about this, but you can’t see Rosie again until it’s settled. I’m not being arbitrary or mean. There are really good reasons.”
Storm’s mother sucked in a ragged breath like she’d been slapped. Litha wished she could spare the woman the conversation because she looked like a wound had just been opened. It was clear that it was difficult, but she sat back down and reached for the wine glass. It was clear she wanted to see Rosie more than she wanted to keep her skeletons in the closet.
“I’m so glad you decided to stay. I’m not here to judge or blame. And you can feel safe because I can’t betray your secret. Not without doing the same thing to my family.” Eva looked curious and seemed to relax just a little. “I know your husband isn’t Storm’s father.”
Eva blinked rapidly, but it didn’t stop her eyes from filling to ov
erflowing. She reached for her purse and withdrew a delicate monogrammed white handkerchief. That, in itself, amazed Litha because she didn’t think those were even being made anymore. As Eva lifted the corner of the hanky to her tear duct, she said, “Does Storm know?”
Litha hadn’t known Storm’s mother long enough to love her, but she certainly liked her and wished that she could spare her that discomfort. “Yes. He does,” she said quietly.
Eva’s face didn’t crumple. She drew her shoulders back as if she was trying to bolster emotional strength with physical support.
“The thing is,” Litha continued, “my father is like Storm’s father. And that means your granddaughter is even more special.”
Eva’s eyes widened a little and Litha saw that she was starting to prepare herself for anything. “How?”
“Birdie?” A little voice said from the hallway.
Both women turned to see a beautiful little girl in a white nightgown standing in the archway that served as a living room partition. One look at Rosie answered Eva’s question about ‘how’ special. She had Litha’s unusual eyes and wild curly hair, but the rest of her was pure Storm. Eva saw a feminine version of the child her son had been: his nose, his mouth, his chin, his expression of concern. She was so overcome with both shock and emotion that she let out a little hiccup of a sob.
Rosie instantly trotted over and climbed into her grandmother’s lap. “What’s wrong, Birdie?”
Eva covered fast and brilliantly. “I’ve just missed not seeing you. That’s all.” Eva circled her arms around Rosie and laughed through her tears. “How did you know I wanted you to call me Birdie?”
“Because you said so when I was a baby. You said that’s what you called your Gran and it would be nice to be Birdie.”
Eva looked at Litha. “So where’s Storm?”
“For half his life you’ve known that there are some questions he can’t answer.”
She smiled. “Yes. He’s special.”
Litha grinned. “He certainly is.” She looked at Rosie. “We both think so.” She looked back at Eva. “But now I see he didn’t get his specialness from just his father.”
Gathering Storm Page 14