Flames of Hope

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Flames of Hope Page 17

by Cassandra L Shaw


  “Tonight. Nine.” He pulled out a small notepad and wrote a number on it. “Send a text with the words ‘fertility treatment.’ Once that’s received, they’ll text back an erasable message with an address. That’s the place for tonight’s meeting. Don’t bring a friend.” He stood, gave Jen a disgusted look, and walked out of the bar.

  Jen slid down in her seat, gave Jasmine a silly grin. She smiled back.

  She was in. And that was something worth smiling about.

  #

  Half an hour later, Jasmine got Jen outside, bundled her into her vehicle, and programmed it for auto drive to the address it had left first thing in the day. Once Jasmine locked in the auto drive, a strip of fine blue light appeared on the sides of the car, indicating to all it was locked into auto. She hit the leave in thirty seconds button, pressed the button to close and lock the doors while the auto harness wrapped around Jasmine and locked into place. Jen gave Jasmine a weak-wristed wave.

  Once the vehicle left the carpark, Jasmine headed for the road. A horn sounded. She glanced toward the sound and stopped walking. Storm and Todd’s van waited half a block up. She pulled her link out just as it buzzed.

  “It’s me.” Xylvar said, as if he hadn’t found her halfway across town in a seedy area and bar without any prior knowledge of her whereabouts.

  She stared at the screen of the car, then at her link. Fucking tosser bugged her. And yet she wasn’t surprised.

  She strode toward the vehicle, yanked open the driver’s door. “Following me. Blowing my new cover.”

  “Get in. We’re going home.”

  She met his look. Silver swirled and stormed in his irises and bloomed thickly across his cheeks. “You’re such a deadshit.” She got in, let the harness do its job.

  “Nice to see you, too, kitten. When we get back to the duplex, wash that crap off your face.”

  Her glare should have melted his skin. “Maybe I like that crap. Think it makes me look hot.”

  “You’re far too beautiful to need it.”

  Beautiful? He thought her beautiful? Wow. “Suppose you have a problem with the clothes, too.”

  He looked over at her, ran his gaze over her breasts, which were plumped up and half hanging out of in the off-the-shoulder top. “It’s not you.”

  No. No, it wasn’t.

  They eased onto the highway. Jasmine pulled off the wig, pulled off the hair net holding her real hair in check and dug her fingers through the mass of curls to massage her scalp.

  “Much better.”

  She’d lifted the side of her top lip. “I’m undercover. And I think it’s paid off.”

  “How?”

  “Nope. You first. How’d it go in Boston?” If she let him, he wouldn’t tell her a thing.

  He drove in silence. One of his fingers on the steering wheel started tapping the way that finger always did when Xylvar thought deeply, or considered what he’d tell someone. Or when looking into someone’s eyes and reading minds and emotions.

  “Xylvar?”

  “They’ll do the procedure.”

  She sat up straighter, put her hand on his arm. “That’s wonderful.”

  “Umph.” He eased onto the off-ramp.

  “Do they think it will be successful?” He didn’t answer. “Xylvar. Do they think…?”

  “Less than fifty percent for some things, twenty to walk without mechanical aid.”

  “Twenty?” Not great odds, not great at all.

  He flared his nostrils and lifted his head a fraction. “To walk.” At that, his face totally closed off, and she knew she’d hit the time to either shut up or to change the subject.

  “I have a contact to get an invitation to attend a Pure meeting tonight.”

  Their vehicle swerved. Xylvar pulled to the side of the road. A muscle worked in his jaw. “What?”

  She told him about Jen, the bar, and the man.

  He rubbed his hands over his face. “Do you know how dangerous it is? What you’re doing. How dangerous these people could be?”

  “I’m not a moron, nor am I without some skills. This could give us the contacts we need.”

  Xylvar shook his head. “You’re right. This is the sort of break we need.” He pulled out his personal link and sent a message.

  “I can’t bring anyone. Just me. As CeeCee.” She pulled her big overshirt out of her bag and slipped it on.

  “Yeah, well, CeeCee is going to have a shitload of outside backup.”

  22

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  At the duplex, Jasmine turned on the oven and put in the vegetables she prepared earlier in the day. She showered and changed into a loose red dress until she would have to restyle herself into CeeCee. In the kitchen, she found Xylvar peeking into the pot with the super-slow pot roast and taking a deep, appreciative breath.

  “It should be ready.”

  “Great, I haven’t eaten since the hotel in Boston.”

  “Why? No, don’t tell me. Since you’ve obviously put a tracking device in my personal link or up my butt, you knew I was on the other side of town and had to investigate.”

  “That part of town isn’t exactly safe. Speaking of which, where is this meeting tonight?”

  “Give me a minute.” She dug out the small slip of paper, sent the message, and waited. A few minutes later, a message returned. She grabbed a pen and paper and wrote down the address just before it self-destructed. She held the paper out to Xylvar. “Addresses change for every meeting.”

  “Sensible. Probably no set night of the week or day of the month, either. I’ll send this to Kaid.”

  Jasmine served the food while Xylvar got them both a soda-spiked fruit juice and put them on the table. When she put the food down, he drew in a big breath. “Going to miss your cooking when this is done.”

  “Cooking is easy.”

  “Yeah, but who can be bothered for one? And fresh ingredients are expensive.” A few minutes into their meal the cyberlink buzzed. Xylvar picked it up, nodding at whatever he read.

  “We’ve got a plan. I’ll show you the setup.” He looked up the address, bringing the street into view. He pointed to the screen, making sure she could see his finger. “You’ll be in this house. An armed Eli will be behind each of these three fences. You see this spot here?” She nodded. “Two Crea will be in white van in the back of it. They’ll be connected to the listening devices I’m going to plant on you. I’ll be in my chair, across the street and a hundred feet up at this little café.”

  “I don’t need all that protection.”

  “It could be a trap. We have to assume the worst.”

  Suddenly the delicious dinner she’d made lost all flavor. “How could it be a trap?”

  “Our not-so-friendly neighbors, someone from the Loose Moose, or the warehouse, who recognized you from church. Best to be safe, and it’s either this way, or you’re not going.”

  “On whose orders?”

  “Mine, Kaid’s.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

  #

  From his waiting spot up the road, Xylvar watched Jaz park a few houses up from the meeting place. The occupants had tied streamers on the fence, as if they were having a party. A nice touch to stop the neighbors getting too nosy.

  The Eli guards had arrived more than two hours before Xylvar and Jaz, positioning themselves so they couldn’t be seen or heard.

  “Contact numbers,” Dan’s dry voice came over the com.

  Everyone would hear the request, bar Jaz, and everyone except her needed to respond.

  Xylvar waited for his turn. “Contact 5,” he said quietly, and started to slowly wheel himself forward, past the house of the meeting, and the van with the Crea locked inside, electronics on, multiple blasters and other weapons ready and waiting for trouble.

  If something happened to Jaz, the house would turn into a war zone in thirty seconds.

  A car pulled down the road, parked, and a large man got out, walking right past Xylvar. Healing scratche
s, deep and spaced apart, would leave telltale scars, even though Xylvar could see the man had been to a med clinic for skin cell spray. Only surgery would fix such wounds.

  Either the big guy tussled with a bear, the biggest cougar in the world, or he scored a not-so-loving swipe from a beast- or part-beast-turned Eli or Crea.

  Xylvar wheeled behind the man’s car, pretended to wait for traffic to stop, dug out a tracking device from the supply he kept in one of the saddle bags of his chair, and clipped it under the vehicle. Plate number noted, he continued across the road and set himself up at a restaurant table facing the van and the little he could see of the house across the street.

  He turned on the listening device attached to Jaz. She was talking to someone called Jen, Jen sounding half cut. Other voices murmured nearby.

  “Don’t I know you from somewhere?” A lady’s voice.

  “I—doubt it.” Shit. Xylvar caught the edge in Jaz’s voice. Nobody else would guess, but she knew the woman.

  Xylvar bent as if to adjust his legs, spoke into the com device. “She knows that person. Did you get images of everyone who entered?”

  “Of course.” The super-deep voice of one of the Crea said he didn’t like his ability to do his job being questioned.

  “Send it to me.” Xylvar didn’t give a shit about the Crea’s pride. He wanted to rescue the Eli and Crea, and stop any future kidnappings and deaths. And most of all, he wanted Jaz safe.

  The waitress came over and took his order. She met his gaze and gave him a small flirtatious smile. Xylvar broke the eye contact, and she left. Girl was either delusional, blind, or had suicidal tendencies. Women did not flirt with Xylvar. Not since his accident, and even before, once the Arctic cold of an assassin dug its icicles into his soul. The only women who wanted a taste were those with the brittle edge of insanity, adrenaline junkies, and women so broken they thought they had nothing to offer.

  “Front door just closed. Fifteen entered.” His link, facedown on the table, vibrated. He lifted it and opened the small vid feed the Crea sent him, and started scanning faces.

  Six had entered after Jaz. A couple, three males, and a woman who looked to be about thirty. He zeroed in on the couple and swallowed. They were members of the church.

  Every time the waitress passed to take other orders, clean tables, or deliver plates of mouthwatering food, she smiled at Xylvar. Concerned the waitress might overhear him, he quickly texted to the others that he recognized the couple. In disguise Jaz looked different, but not different enough to fool someone observant.

  Through the listening com in his ear came the murmur of voices.

  “Let’s sit over there,” Jaz said quietly to someone.

  “Do you know her?” the one called Jen asked.

  “Nah, unless she volunteers at the warehouse.”

  “I’ve been going there for eight months, never seen her.”

  “I must have one of those faces, then, hey?” Jaz said, as if they’d been great friends for years.

  “Oh. Here’s our speaker tonight.”

  The murmuring stopped.

  “Evening, fellow believers. Tonight, as was discussed during last week’s meeting, we’ll be asking you, our loyal followers to help us. All great causes, all revolutions, require not just time and great minds, but—and it’s never truer than now—they require credits. A great deal of credits. And in this we need your help. You all need to think like entrepreneurs, and remember we need to spread our word.” The man rattled on for another forty minutes about finances, spreading the word with caution, and to forever think of the movement when opportunities arose.

  At the end everyone left, let out at almost regular intervals. Jaz walked out with a woman, the one who’d arrived last. The other woman dropped her head back and stared at the sky. “There’s a bigger meeting meant to be happening, but nothing was mentioned. It’s like they have layers of folks. Scum layer, us, recruit and earn, then higher levels the scum never get invited to. Sucks. I’m going to go and get smashed and find me a honey for the night. Want to join me?”

  “Thanks, but not tonight.”

  “We could do a threesome. We’d pull a hotter guy that way.”

  “Yeah, not my style.”

  The woman did a one-shoulder shrug. “Suit yourself. Catch ya.”

  “Jen, how do we find out about the next meeting?”

  “I’ll tag you at the warehouse.” She turned and staggered toward a modern car. Xylvar noted the plate number just in case the Crea didn’t, though he doubted they’d miss it. The couple from the church headed toward a sky-blue vehicle that somehow tweaked a memory. As they passed Jasmine, the man bumped into her, turning to apologize and by the looks of it, stare at her face.

  Xylvar sat straighter, his silver streaking over his hands. That had been deliberate. And he’d seen that car somewhere before…and not at church. But where?

  He signaled the waitress, she came and stood at just the right angle to block the couples’ view of him. No disguise for him. If they noticed him, they’d recognize him. And then Jaz’s disguise would truly be blown, throwing her into danger.

  Jaz headed for the car the Crea loaned her, registered to a fake plate under the name of CeeCee May. The woman of the couple turned and watched Jaz get into it.

  Xylvar gave the waitress an extra order, and she hurried away.

  He picked up his link. “Check Jaz for plants. That bump into her had to have been deliberate.” Yeah, if he was a betting man, and he wasn’t, since he had no money, he’d put all he had on the man having planted a tracking or listening device on Jasmine.

  A confirmation came back, and he saw via his tracking, that she headed for a late night café. Good, she’d go to the ladies’ and find anything.

  After Jaz left with an escort of two other vehicles, there to make sure she made it home via the suburb the number plate belonged to, Xylvar finished his coffee, ate the slice of apple pie he ordered, and left a large tip for the flirtatious waitress.

  They had their link to Christ’s Alliance. But where had he’d seen that blue car before?

  23

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  On patrol of the southern side boundary of Katoom Eli clan’s land, Tariq guided their all-terrain vehicle to stop beside a rock overhang. “We’ll pitch the tent under there, have a feed, then hit the trails to install these sat-linked devices before dawn.” Jinx, a young Eli training to be part of Katoom’s Eli clan security, nodded.

  Jinx pulled the lightweight, self-erecting tent out and set it up.

  Tariq lit a small fire and heated their morning’s meal. He breathed in the smell of smoke, the fresh air, enjoying the serenity of the wilderness. “The past couple of months since Gene’s murder, the rapid development of the Pures has meant quiet moments have become too rare.”

  “Don’t I know it. At home Mam and Da are installing new laser systems on the windows and doors. Mam’s stocking up on non-perishable foods.”

  “Kaid’s going to open one of the largest meadows up to vegetable and grain growing, so we are less reliant on the outside world. Never thought I’d see the day around Katoom.”

  “And he’s calling in clan to come back to the reserve for safety.”

  “Eli and Crea clans all around the world are doing the same.” The more clan close by were not only easier to protect, but also gave numbers if it came to an ambush.

  “Tent’s up, want me to throw in the sleep pads?”

  “Yeah. Food’s ready so eat first. I’m starving.”

  “Me too.” Jinx stretched.

  Tariq had hustled a half-asleep Jinx into the truck at one in the morning. It was now just past five.

  “We lost contact with clan over an hour ago. You think these new devices will get signals out through the trees and mountains?”

  “Guess some will work and others won’t. Biggest problem we face is the satellites only pass over these uninhabited, remote areas every few days. Clan’s going to resurrect the old outpo
st houses and enlist boundary security guards to work week on / week off shifts.”

  “So it’s true. Kaid expects this to become a war.”

  Tariq pulled his I don’t know face. “Maybe not a war, but the movement is growing too fast, and we need to be ready for any attacks or group aggression.”

  They each found a comfortable rock to sit on, and ate, both having seconds and then thirds. Tariq stood with his empty coffee mug, and pointed to Jinx’s. “I’ll wash this lot up. You kill the fire.”

  He put the mugs into the small tub of water they were using to clean up. The soft rumble of an engine came from a distance. “You hear that?” he asked as he brought his Eli to the surface to enhance his hearing. In the middle of wilderness, part of the wildest areas of clan land, and next to a wildlife reserve, there should be no other vehicle within a ten-mile radius.

  Jinx stopped stomping the coals, glowed soft silver as his beast rose. “Yeah. Comes from the other side of that mountain.”

  Tariq turned to Jinx. “That’s how I hear it too. Grab two waters and three snack packs each. I’ll grab the long-range binoculars and the links to see if we can get signal higher. We’ve going to have to head up that mountain. Halfway up there’s a track we’ll take, and check the other side.”

  Jinx hurried to re-load the two backpacks. Tariq pulled on thicker socks, and rolled a thick black pullover and stuffed it into his backpack, indicating for Jinx to do likewise.

  Within three minutes, their Eli riding them hard, giving them speeds eight times faster than a human, they raced up the mountain. An hour later Tariq and Jinx rounded the side of the mountain, stopping inside a line of trees. Ahead of them lay a steep, rocky clearing. Long range vision binoculars raised, Tariq pointed slightly to the left to where, inside the wildlife reserve, he could see several parked trucks and a van. “Well looky looky. Busted you hunting bastards.”

  Jinx let out a soft whistle. “Could be campers rather than hunters. Either way we’ll have to move them on.”

 

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