Orange Blossom Special (The Covenant of the Rainbow Book 2)

by Elana Brooks

  Did she want him to tell her it was okay? Because it wasn’t. At all. “Why?”

  “What?”

  “Why did you have to end our relationship? Up until that moment, I thought everything was going great.” He really should drop this. She didn’t owe him any answers. “It was obvious you picked that fight on purpose. And it was equally obvious that the issues we were arguing about weren’t the real ones. So what was it actually about?”

  She was silent, only the faint hiss of her breath telling him she was still on the line. The longer it stretched, the worse he felt. Finally, he burst out, “Look, never mind. It doesn’t matter. It’s not going to change anything.”

  “No, Steve, wait.” He halted his jab at the button and wearily pressed the phone back to his ear. “You’re right. I just… Listen, can we talk about this later, in person?”

  “I guess.” He regretted broaching the subject. He should have let the past lie undisturbed, not dug it up and dumped the corpse at her feet. “Or we can forget about it. Whatever.”

  “No. I want to tell you. As much as I can, anyway.” She took a deep breath. “See you in Chicago.”

  “See you.”

  Steve waited until she ended the call to turn his phone off and slide it into his pocket.

  O’Hare was as busy as always, and manners prevented Steve from scanning psychically to locate Rosalia, but he spotted her the instant she came through the door from the concourse into the baggage claim area. Her gaze homed unerringly on him before he could even get his hand up to wave, and she pushed through the crowds to the bench where he waited, suitcase at his feet.

  He rose to greet her, heart pounding. He would have extended a hand, but she flung one arm around his shoulders in a brief, impersonal embrace. He returned the fleeting pressure, silently cursing his body’s inevitable response to hers.

  “It’s good to see you again.” Thank god his voice remained steady.

  “And you.” She stepped back and looked him up and down. “You’re looking good.”

  “The Covenant’s got me on a brutal training regimen. Feels like I’m back doing two-a-days. Solomon wants to see if it will strengthen my mental muscles along with my physical ones. If it works, he’ll have everyone in the Covenant lifting weights and running ten miles every day.”

  “I’m not sure whether to hope it does or it doesn’t, then.” She grinned at him, and his heart caught. Her toned, lithe body certainly didn’t need any improvement.

  He gestured to the bench and seated himself after she sank onto it. “For Earth’s sake I hope it does, but for my sake I hope it doesn’t. It takes too much time away from other pursuits. Luckily, I have his permission to take a break while I’m working with you. Six yoga sessions a day will apparently be exercise enough.”

  She shook her head ruefully. “I’m going to be sore until I get back in shape. I haven’t kept up a pace like that since college.” She shot him a layered glance, then looked away.

  All his years at UCLA seemed reduced to that one night. He cleared his throat, but it was a moment before he could speak. “I’m sure it won’t take you long.”

  She smiled and nodded, looking toward the baggage carousel. “I wonder how long before my luggage gets here?”

  “Probably at least ten minutes. They’re never in a hurry.”

  She studied the empty conveyor belt for a while longer, then turned back to him with a sigh. “Long enough, I guess.” Her voice took on a rushed, stilted quality. It was obvious she was reciting a carefully composed and rehearsed speech. “It wasn’t anything you did. And it wasn’t anything that happened that day. I’d been becoming more and more aware that our differences were too great for a relationship between us to work. You’re so much stronger psychically than I am.”

  She held up a hand before he got his mouth open, as if his objection and her response to it were both parts of her prepared performance. “You are. And our backgrounds are so different. Neither of us could hope to truly understand each other, not even with telepathy and sharing memories. And most of all…” She hesitated, then rushed on. “My reaction to you was so intense. It overwhelmed everything else about me. I was losing everything I’d ever worked for, everything I felt and believed in and cared about. It was like you were a drug, and I was an addict. The highs were incredible, but they were going to cost me everything I had. I couldn’t let that happen. I had to go cold turkey. And the only way I could bear to do that was to provoke a fight. It wasn’t fair to you, but at the time I didn’t think I had any other choice. I’m still not sure I did.”

  The torrent of words slowed to a more normal pace. “Face it, Steve, you were addicted, too. If we’d kept on, it would have destroyed us both. Staying clean isn’t easy, but in the long run it’s better. So please, don’t tempt me to fall off the wagon. I’m sure we can work together just fine as long as we both keep our distance and treat each other as friends, nothing more.” She smiled tremulously and held out a hand. “Deal?”

  Being friend-zoned was better than continuing in the bitter silence that had reigned between them for two years. He guessed. He accepted her hand, squeezed it as briefly as possible, and released it. “If you’re sure that’s what you want.”

  “I am.” She hopped up. “I’m going to go stand where I can grab my bag as soon as it comes out. No need for you to get up. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She strode to join the cluster of people waiting by the carousel.

  Steve wanted to bury his face in his hands, but the airport was far too public a place for that sort of display. So he stretched his arm over the back of the bench, propped his ankle on his knee, and closed his eyes, feigning casual relaxation.

  The awful thing was, he sort of understood. It had been like being on some kind of hallucinogenic drug. When he was with her, everything had been hyper-intense. The good parts better than anything he’d experienced before or since, and the bad parts worse. The pain when she’d flown away from him, leaving her cruel words ringing in his ears and mind, had made him seriously consider seeking death as an escape. If not for his responsibilities with the Covenant, maybe he would have. The prospect of battling the fearsome dragons of his dreams paled in comparison. He’d come to regard the bared teeth he continued to see at the end of every vision with more anticipation than dread. No one could fault him if he gave his life in defense of Earth and humanity.

  The worst part had passed. Now he was no longer eager to sacrifice himself. Life was good, even without her in it. But he would do it if he had to. Better for the Covenant to lose him, who no one would particularly mourn, than, say, for either Solomon or Keiko to lose the other.

  Undoubtedly Rosalia was right. What they’d experienced hadn’t been love, only lust and obsession. They were both better off without that kind of destructive force ruling their lives.

  When she returned, towing her suitcase, he rose and pulled out the handle of his own. “The cabs are this way. We can grab a quick supper, then go to the convention center and catch Adrian when he finishes his last session of the day. Headquarters booked us all in the same hotel, right across the street.”

  Her look of relief told him she understood he’d accepted the deal she’d offered and was glad not to have to discuss it any more. He was equally relieved to be past the initial awkwardness of their reunion. It wasn’t that difficult, he discovered, to treat her with the same upbeat companionability he used with other members of the Covenant. He liked her a great deal. It was easier to focus on that when he knew there was no potential for anything else. Maybe they could be friends, after all. It would certainly make the next few weeks more pleasant.

  The vision took him without warning, as always. One moment he was sitting in the hotel bar with Adrian and Rosalia, discussing the details of transitioning the screening sessions to her leadership and the precautions she’d need to take to avoid another debacle like what had happened with Beverly. The next he was on the bridge of the Seraphim ship, watching the Commander and the Navigator,
as he’d privately nicknamed them long ago, discussing the ship’s course.

  The huge Commander, obsidian body flexing, copper wings waving, stared out the viewport at the bright dot of Earth’s sun. The Navigator approached him. “Excuse me, sir,” he said, the whistles and clicks of the alien language effortlessly understandable, just as in the Memories. He gestured toward the screen of a computer that displayed a complex diagram. “I’ve completed the calculation for the modified deceleration schedule you requested. It will indeed prove far more efficient than our original plan, but it will take longer. I estimate we’ll arrive at the planet approximately three of its years later than we’d previously hoped.”

  Steve’s pulse quickened. Three extra years to prepare? The Covenant desperately needed more time. Preparations were going slower than they’d anticipated. He held his breath to hear the Commander’s response.

  The giant Seraph lashed his tail and hissed. The Navigator shrank back, fluttering his middle fins and ducking his head. The Commander swam back and forth, staring first at the computer, then out the window, then back to study the display.

  Finally, with ill grace, he snarled, “My choice is clear. Better to arrive later but with ample reserves to carry us through disembarkation than to risk running low on supplies before the planet is ready for us due to ill-considered haste. After all this time, a little longer will make no difference. Implement the revised schedule.”

  It was all Steve could do not to laugh aloud as the Commander made his customary threatening boasts. He couldn’t believe their luck. Three extra years could very well make the difference between falling in defeat to the Seraphim and triumphing over them. And the Covenant would be able to take full advantage of the respite because of Steve’s visions. This made all the years of terror worth it. Never before had he been so glad he’d discovered the true nature of his visions before it was too late for them to do any good.

  He opened his eyes to find Adrian and Rosalia eyeing him anxiously. He grinned and gave them the good news, then hurried up to his room to contact Solomon and the rest of the Eight. It was better not to draw attention by conducting extended telepathic conversations while in public. People tended to look at you funny when you talked back to the voices in your head.

  When the hastily arranged telepathic conference call was over, everyone a great deal more cheerful than they’d been at its start, he headed back downstairs. Adrian and Rosalia had probably given up on him and gone to bed, but maybe he would catch them still in the bar. Maybe Adrian had retired, but Rosalia had stayed, waiting for him…

  The elevator doors opened. He took a step, then froze.

  Rosalia was standing behind Adrian, rubbing his shoulders. Her touch was slow and suggestive, her posture provocative. She leaned down to murmur something in his ear, and his hands came up to cover hers.

  Roaring jealousy crashed over Steve. He clenched his fists and raised them, starting forward. He would show that son of a bitch what happened to any man who dared—

  The elevator dinged and the doors slid toward the center. Steve dropped his hands and stepped back, pulse thundering in his ears. The doors met in front of him and the elevator lurched into ascent.

  He had no right to interfere. Rosalia wasn’t his. Even if she were, what he’d been about to do would have been way out of line. She was free do as she pleased, and would be justifiably furious if he tried to stop her.

  Adrian was his friend. And he was soul bonded to Beverly. Surely he knew better than to risk straining their bond. If he responded to Rosalia’s advances, the soul bond might break, killing him. She must not know that. Did he? Now that Steve’s irrational fury was fading, he wondered if he should go back down and warn them of the danger.

  The hell with that. Let them figure it out on their own. It would serve Adrian right if cheating on Beverly got him killed. And it would serve Rosalia right if her precious promiscuity backfired on her. She’d be sorry if, just when they were getting all hot and heavy, he—

  Remorse hit Steve as hard as his previous anger. He stabbed the elevator buttons until it stopped. As soon as the door slid open, he sprinted for the stairs. Maybe he wouldn’t be too late.

  He burst into the lobby and charged for the bar. Both of them were gone.

  He didn’t know Adrian’s room number, but he’d memorized Rosalia’s. Back to the elevator. All the way up to the twelfth floor he paced. Surely they were both all right. Surely nothing had happened.

  He banged on her door. It swung open and Rosalia peered at him, her brow creased. “Steve? What are you doing here? I thought you’d gone to bed.”

  He sagged against the doorframe, too relieved to guard his words. “I saw you with Adrian. You know he’s soul bonded. What were you thinking?”

  “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

  “It is when my friend might die because you can’t keep your hands to yourself!”

  She rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. You just can’t stand to think of me with anyone else. But that’s not your concern. It hasn’t been for a long time. And it’s not my problem. I’ll do what I like with whoever I like, and so will you, and neither of us will be stupid about it. I thought that’s what we’d agreed to.”

  Steve bit back a hot retort and rephrased it more diplomatically. “Fine. Whatever. Just please, not Adrian. For his sake, not mine.”

  Rosalia sighed noisily. “No fear. I might as well have been you, for all the notice he gave me. Beverly has nothing to worry about.” She gave Steve a pointed look. “Is that all?”

  “Yeah.” He wasn’t going to look past her into her room, or think about her undressing and climbing into bed. She’d made it clear she had no more interest in him, and he would return her indifference if it killed him. “See you in the morning. Good night.”

  He spun away and strode for the elevator before she could reply.

  Rosalia’s astral form walked between the rows of mats, pausing to study each meditating student. Steve hung back, watching. It had been three days since she’d asked him for help with anything during their sessions. He could have left for New York long since, but he’d stuck to the schedule they’d agreed on. Now, though, his flight was booked for first thing in the morning. He’d have to leave before sunrise to make it through security at the airport in time. No need to wake her for farewells and rob her of an hour’s sleep. Better to shut things down tonight.

  He’d enjoyed these weeks of working with her far more than he’d anticipated. They’d both kept things strictly business. He’d gotten to know her better than he ever had when they were falling into bed at the slightest opportunity. Over their lunches and dinners together they’d talked about a wide range of subjects, from the Covenant’s work, to their current tastes in entertainment, to speculation about how the world would react to the revelations of the Covenant’s and Seraphim’s existence when the time finally came. Their discussions frequently intensified to heated arguments, but Rosalia seemed to relish them as much as Steve did, and afterward they easily dropped back into relaxed camaraderie.

  Often a lurch of desire caught him, when he saw her bent into a graceful pose or laughing at one of his jokes, but he always managed to let it pass unremarked. They’d become friends. He hadn’t thought that would be possible, or that he would like it if it was, but he found he was glad it had happened. This was infinitely better than the way things had been before he’d called her. He didn’t have to be afraid of his feelings for her any more. Maybe in time they would fade.

  She returned to her body, and he sank into his. Her soothing voice brought the class out of meditation, back to the physical world. She dismissed them and reported the candidates to be contacted to the assistants, and they headed back to the hotel together.

  In the lobby, he stopped, took her hands, and drew her to the side. He strove to keep his voice light, successfully, he thought. “I’d better skip getting a drink tonight. Five o’clock comes awfully early. Don’t let me stop you, though.”


  She gave him a smile that let him know she understood exactly what he was doing. “Thanks, Steve. For recommending me for this job, and for helping me get started. I can tell I’m going to be able to contribute to the Covenant much better here than on the finance committee. There are plenty of people who can handle that work, while I’m one of the few equipped to do this.”

  He nodded. “And for the next five—I mean eight—years, this is going to be the most important work in the Covenant. The people you recruit are going to fill the ranks of our army. The Seraphim will take one look at the thousands of people lined up to defend Earth and turn tail and run.”

  She grinned, as he’d meant her to. “Let’s hope so.” Her gazed softened. “Goodbye, Steve.”

  “Goodbye.” His throat ached. He longed to bend and kiss her, but he didn’t. He only squeezed her hands, released them, and walked to the elevator without looking back.

  Chapter 21

  Present

  Robert slammed up a telepathy barrier just in time to block Miller’s attempt to contact his superior. Sarangerel joined her strength to his, muttering curses in her native Mongolian. He’d picked up enough of the lingo over the years to know they were doozies.

  He was glad they’d held the technique in reserve. Carlos had suggested the tactic. If their targets realized they could be cut off from their allies, he’d argued, they would keep themselves constantly surrounded by other strong talents, as they’d been at the convention center. If they were confident they could call in help at any time, Angel might be able to catch them alone and isolate them. Now the strategy had paid off. No other Covenant member would intrude on the lovers’ privacy uninvited, at least not before morning.

  Miller’s eyes widened, then narrowed. He exchanged glances with Escamillo. Her naked body fell back to the bed as they both erupted into the astral plane. Clothes formed to obscure their nudity. Once Robert would have regretted losing sight of Escamillo’s lovely curves. Now their night-long spying on the pair had served mostly to make him desperate to whisk his wife off somewhere private and celebrate their own soul bond. It never got old, even after all this time.