Gathering Storm

by Danann, Victoria

  Later, when Litha opened the door to bid her guest good night, Eva turned and said, “Did you know that Storm is my favorite?”

  “I suspected as much, but that secret is just as safe with me.”

  “Thank you, Litha. Isn’t Elora Rose just… perfection?”

  Litha laughed. “We think so.”

  At noon the next day, Angel continued his game of ordering something for lunch that he didn’t think the kitchen would be able to produce. But when it arrived, instead of eating, he kept falling asleep while Glen was talking. Glen decided to let it go because he knew Kay and Elora were being merciless in their training. He smiled to himself suspecting that, maybe subconsciously, they needed to prove that no clone could measure up.

  After a few days he was staying awake through lunch and seemed to be halfway interested in Glen’s briefing on B Team and Storm’s relationships with the other knights.

  He’d also reached an accord with Rosie, who by then resembled a nine-year-old.

  Glen gave Angel a homework assignment. He was supposed to read the account of the founding of The Order of the Black Swan. That night after dinner, Rosie asked Angel if he would read her a story before bedtime.

  He started to say no, but then saw an opportunity to multitask. He had to read the thing anyway. He might as well get credit for being a syrup-hearted suck up and read it out loud to the kid. Another upside was that, after boring her beyond belief, she’d never ask him to read to her again.

  Litha was well aware of the subject matter and knew the content would be highly inappropriate for any other nine-year-old, but Rosie wasn’t like anybody else.

  “Rosie, that story is about vampire and part of it is very, very sad. Are you sure that’s the kind of story you want to hear tonight?”

  Her little head jerked toward Angel. She studied his eyes like she could see right through him, then turned back to her mother and nodded. “I do want to hear it.”

  So Angel settled on the living room sofa and began. “In the year 1458 there was a Count who lived happily with his wife…” As the story progressed, Rosie had come closer and closer until she was leaning against his arm. There was a part of him that knew he needed to shrug her off and make her move for his own protection. There was a part of him that knew that, if he let her stay there cuddled up against his arm, he was going to feel something and be sorry for it.

  So he let her stay and she opened a crack in the wall around his heart.

  When he said, “I guess that’s it,” she looked up at him with big searching eyes.

  “My daddy is a vampire hunter,” she said.

  “I know,” he replied almost in a whisper.

  “You could be like Daddy.” She looked so sincere, so intelligent, and so intense for a little girl.

  “I don’t know about that, sweetheart.”

  Sweetheart? Where did that come from?

  After Rosie went to bed, Angel sat at the kitchen table with Litha. Every night she covered the table with photos and gave him various facts about Storm’s relationship with different people he might encounter. Litha didn’t remember the exact day or time of the shift, but at some point, Angel had stopped sighing, rolling his eyes, studying his fingernails, and acting like a kid who’d been sent to detention. He had begun to show an interest, had applied himself, studied the details, asked questions and no longer acted resentful when she corrected him about a mannerism or posture or the way he phrased something.

  “That’s enough for tonight. I think you’re at the point where we can turn Ram loose on you?”

  “Oh boy.”

  In spite of herself, Litha chuckled at that. “Sir Hawking was a little intimidating during your last exchange with him, but believe me, he has another side.”

  She rose from the table to finish cleaning up from dinner. Angel sat and watched her. There must have been some women like her in his life at some point. From what he remembered of his mother, she was warm and loving, but there hadn’t been anyone like that since he’d left home. For the first time he asked himself why he hadn’t stayed in contact with her. For the first time he wondered if his disappearance had caused her worry. Gods of glory. Am I an asshole?

  Litha was sexy, but not because she wore provocative clothes and not because she tried to strike poses or be coquettish. She was sexy because, when she spoke she sounded genuine and sincere. Her mannerisms were not calculated in terms of provocation, but flowed effortlessly as an extension of her personality. When she loved, she was unconsciously and unpretentiously graceful and feminine. In other words, she was grounded in authenticity. A real woman. The best kind. And Angel found her more fascinating every day.

  She was beautiful, but not because she wore a lot of makeup. She was beautiful because her eyes were so deep a green they were exotic, other worldly really. Her hair was wild and seemed to suit her perfectly. It was outrageously curly, but not frizzy.

  He knew she hated him because of the sex, but she’d made an effort to be patient with him about learning all the details of someone else’s life: the names, who they were to Storm, how he really felt about them, and so on. She’d been polite and courteous enough that sometimes he could fool himself into thinking he was a real house guest.

  He liked having dinner with Litha and Rosie at the end of the day. For one thing, it was kind of cool to see the kid grow into somebody else every single day. Rosie talked about her adventures and Litha asked questions. When her mother was searching for Storm, which was most of the time, Rosie’s grandmother came to the villa and stayed with her, or she went to the monastery and spent time with the monks, or she went to Jefferson Unit and was passed around between Elora, Ram, and Glen – depending on who was available.

  Litha hated missing out on spending time with her, but Rosie was clearly enjoying the arrangement. There was no missing the fact that her favorite subject was Glen.

  Sometimes they asked Angel about his day. And that was…nice. He knew he was starting to like it too much and he knew that everything about that was fucked up. Even he couldn’t be stupid enough and masochistic enough to get too comfortable or fall in love with a life that didn’t belong to him.

  It wasn’t just Litha and Rosie. His body was starting to feel like it belonged to somebody else. He was getting strong. And cleaned out. It was amazing what a few vegetables and a lack of alcohol could do. Between the toxins flushing away and Kay’s bouts of brutality that he passed off as “workouts”, Angel’s gut had turned rock hard and defined itself into distinct hills and valleys.

  Kay had stopped treating him like something that Roto Rooter pulled out of the drain. Even though he still loved to say things like, “My partner would not quit at that many pullups if he was magically transformed into an eighty-year-old woman who had never worked out a day in her life.”

  Then there was Elora. He had to admit that, on the rare occasion he managed to do something right and get a smile out of her, it was oddly gratifying. She didn’t coddle him, or even cheerlead, but she never failed to acknowledge any small accomplishment and, in his eyes, that meant she was fair.

  If he landed a punch or a kick, she’d laugh and say, “So you got something going on in there after all, huh? Let’s see if you can do that again.” Every positive citation was a victory.

  He knew he was in big trouble when he started to like getting up in the morning because, any minute now, the real Storm might show up. Then he’d be back in a dirty life in a dirty alley about to get sliced up by a monster and the worst part of that was that he deserved it.

  The Black Swan people? They’d be so glad to see that guy, they probably wouldn’t even say goodbye. He’d be nothing more than old news and he’d end up where old news goes to biodegrade without them ever giving him another thought.

  From Litha’s point of view, there was no upside to living with Angel. It would have been bad enough having a stranger in the house changing the energy and the dynamics, privy to every detail of their lives. But this stranger, who looked
just like Storm made her heart hurt even more. It was taking its toll in the way she felt tired all the time. It was taking its toll in the dark circles she saw under her eyes in the mirror. And the guilt about neglecting Rosie topped off the grief so that she was always on the edge of crumpling.

  She missed him in a way that was a physical ache and worried all the time about how he fared. The worry was justified. She’d traveled the passes enough to know that not every dimension would be welcoming to a stray human/part demon. A voice brought her out of her thoughts.

  “I know you’re sad all the time.”

  She stopped what she was doing and turned to look at Angel. “Yes,” was all she said.

  “What was it like when…?”

  “What was it like before he was gone?”

  Litha walked over and sat down at the table.

  “You know Storm was recruited when he was fourteen.” Angel nodded. “So he finished growing up in a culture that was all male and very military. That’s just one of the reasons why it melts my heart that he’s so good with our little girl.” She smiled. “He does dishes without complaining.

  “We both wanted this place.” She looked around. “I mean this exact place. We both grew up around here and both set our dreams on owning this vineyard one day. We found that out about each other when we were working for The Order in Edinburgh. It was enough to make you believe in kismet.

  “I guess I’m rambling.

  “So, your question was, what’s it like being married to Storm? It’s the very best kind of easy. I think that’s how you know you’re with the right person, at the right time, in the right place. At least that’s what ‘right’ means to me. Love shouldn’t be hard. Or maybe I’ve just been lucky.

  “I fell in love with him the first time I saw him.”

  “Did he feel the same?”

  “No.” She shook her head, looked at her hands in her lap, and laughed softly. “The first time he saw me, he looked right over me like I wasn’t even there. I’d been struck by lightning, as sure as if he was a god, but I was just an invisible mortal.

  “It wasn’t all that easy to get a chance with him. He’d been hurt, recently, and he was like a grouchy old bear who just wanted to be left alone to nurse his wounds. If you looked at him wrong, he’d growl and strike out.” She looked away and her expression was wistful. “But he came around.

  “Shocked me and a whole bunch of other people. We were at Kay’s wedding. He was best man.” She looked at Angel. “They’re partners, you know. I was Katrina’s maid of honor because she was so grateful to me for taking her place as hostage to a demon. It turned out not to be sacrificial or altruistic because the demon was my dad.” She rolled her eyes as if to say, “You’ve met him and you know how he is.”

  “After the ceremony was over, Storm and I were supposed to follow the bride and groom down the aisle. We’d rehearsed it the night before. I moved to take his arm, but he stayed right where he was and, more or less, demanded that I marry him on the spot.

  ”He’s the most splendid man ever conceived. All I could do was stand there and think how lucky I was.” A tear spilled out of her eye and she flicked it away. “I couldn’t even make my voice work to say yes even though that’s what I was screaming on the inside. My mouth was moving, but I couldn’t get any sound to come out.”

  Before he could slap it down and sit on it, Angel had wished he was that guy. He knew nothing could be more stupid or self-destructive than falling in love with the wife of the guy he was impersonating. Christ.

  “What about you?”

  “What?”

  “Who’s missing you? Wife, girlfriend, mom?”

  “Nobody.”

  “Nobody?”

  The surprise on her face was replaced with pity and just as quickly that was replaced with a silent question.

  “I want it that way.” He shrugged it off and made his features perfectly passive.

  Litha’s eyes searched his face like she was really seeing him for the first time.

  So that he could be absolutely certain of his privacy, Glen sent Barrock on an errand and closed the door to Sol’s study before he placed the call to Simon. As he listened to the ring, he double checked his watch. It was before noon at Jefferson Unit, well inside the work day at Edinburgh.

  “Director Tvelgar’s office.”

  “Margaret. This is Glen. How are you?”

  “Very well, Glendennon. How about your young self?”

  Glen smiled that Margaret, who was well into her eighties, managed to slip a bit of age bias into her greeting. Very slick.

  “Passable. I’d like to speak with the man if I can slip past the dragon at the gate.”

  “Ach! Fresh as ever, Mr. Catch. And what shall the dragon be tellin’ the Director about your business with himself?”

  Glen chuckled. “I’m sure you’d like to know, Margaret, but this is Sovereign to Sovereign business.”

  “Careful of the altitude. It can be chilly at such lofty climes.”

  “Believe me, Margaret, I’m freezing my tail off, but until the rightful Sovereign returns to the throne, all I can do is hang on and try to emulate the man who belongs in this chair.”

  It was Margaret’s turn to chuckle. “’Tis downright frightenin’ how quick you are, Mr. Catch. Hold on.”

  After a few seconds, Simon picked up.

  “Glen. How goes it in the Colonies?”

  “I don’t know, sir. I’m calling from the United States of America.”

  “Ha! If you’re joking, it can’t be all bad.”

  “I suppose it isn’t all bad, but it’s bad enough.”

  “Oh.”

  With as much brevity as possible while still giving the Director the respect he deserved, Glen offered a briefing and status report. When he paused for a reaction, there was silence.

  “Sir?”

  “So, let me be certain I understand correctly, Catch. Nemamiah went on vacation with his girlfriend leaving you in charge with Storm overseeing. Then Storm was lost in a rift between dimensions and is gods know where. Meanwhile, the idiot demon was told to fetch and came back with an alternate version of Sir Storm, whom you and his inner circle have been attempting to pass off as our Storm. All that means that you’ve been running Jefferson Unit alone while, at the same time, running interference to keep anyone from discovering that Sir Storm is not himself. Literally.”

  “The only exception I would make to that summary is that there’s just something very wrong about referring to Farnsworth as someone’s girlfriend.”

  “Hmmm. Well, Catch, I always knew you had potential, but I must admit you amaze me. You’ve not just handled this admirably. You’ve done as well as any seasoned administrator might have given these circumstances. Probably better than most. Just one question.”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Why the devil didn’t you call Nemamiah and tell him?”

  “Because, sir, it was my understanding that this is the first vacation the Sovereign has taken. Ever. And piecing together bits of what Sir Storm has said, I believe he deserves a vacation.”

  “I see. You’re one of a kind, Catch. No doubt about it. So you’ve called for help?”

  “In a way. I’m calling for a favor. I’d like to borrow someone from Headquarters. I’ve been thinking, when I was in Edinburgh – because I was privy to the agendas of most of the various departments – I was able to surmise the overall goals and interests of The Order. If you don’t mind me saying so.”

  “That’s perfectly alright. Go on.”

  “It has occurred to me that this situation might be a one-time opportunity to study an alternate version of a person, the parallels and differences I mean. This Storm and our Storm were born with the same identical bodies, but the expression of personality as adults is quite dissimilar.

  “This would be better than the nature versus nurture twin studies. It’s a study so pure there’s no need to control for error or variance.”

  “Go o
n.”

  “I’d like to try and gain his cooperation in establishing his biography, which could then be compared to Storm’s. And I think I have a plan about the best way to do that. I’m not sure it’s entirely ethical, but I’m very sure it would produce flawless results.”

  “What’s your plan?”

  “Aelsong Hawking. If I could borrow her, I could pass her off as an Order historian who specializes in the collection of biographies.”

  “I see what you mean regarding the ethics of the thing. Having someone interviewed by a psychic as gifted as Ms. Hawking without knowing they were talking to a living lie detector… Without touching the question of ethics, it’s devious to be sure.”

  “I know. And Song is ideally suited for the task. She’s up to speed in the sense that she knows the real Storm. I mean our Storm. This one is just as real, I suppose. Like her brother, she’s talented, loyal, and pragmatic. We can trust her.”

  “Indeed. I agree that this is an opportunity that may never come again. We must learn what we can, while we can.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “The project to which she is currently assigned is one that could easily be set aside for something as unique and important as what you propose. Make arrangements to quarter her. She’ll be there tomorrow. Margaret will let you know exactly when.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Keep up the good work, boy. The Order is fortunate to have you. I hope you don’t have my job in your sights. I wasn’t planning to retire just yet.”

  “High praise, sir. Thank you, but no, I’ve had enough of administrative duty. Between the two of us, it’s harder than it looks.”

  Simon laughed softly. “That can be said about most things in life, Mr. Catch.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Carry on.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Two days later, Angel reported for his regular lunch session with Glen in Sol’s conference room. He set his gym bag down by the door and took a seat in his usual place to wait for Glen. He was deciding what he would have for lunch when Glen swung through the door as he was ending a call and closing his phone.