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

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Orange Blossom Special (The Covenant of the Rainbow Book 2) Page 30

by Elana Brooks


  You’re not strong enough to get past me. His mental tone moderated, though she could feel the anger pulsing behind it. Adrian’s at the hospital. If Carlos shows up, he’ll stop him.

  “Except he doesn’t know to watch for a physical attack, and we can’t warn him through the telepathy block.” She was dimly aware that anyone watching would see her shouting at nothing and probably conclude she was crazy, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. “Please, go back there. I’ll stay out of the Covenant building, I promise.”

  Bullshit. You’ll be through that door the second you’re out of my sight.

  The fact he was right only fueled her fury. “This is what Angel wanted. For us to stand here fighting each other while they bomb the hospital at their leisure. Your stubbornness is going to get you killed!”

  Better me than you. They thought I’d give in for fear our soul bond will break. Well, I won’t! Betraying you by letting you put yourself at risk is what would break it.

  Damn his arrogant, paternalistic, chauvinistic protectiveness! “By that logic, if I let you die without trying to save you, I’ll be betraying you, and our bond will break and kill me, too.”

  Then they’ve won. His despair and terror beat against her mind. Because I can’t sacrifice you. If you can’t sacrifice me, either, then nothing we do can stop them.

  “I refuse to accept that.” Rosalia fought to push back her raging storm of emotion and think logically. “There’s got to be another way. Think. What are the possibilities? They might blow up the hospital. Or the Covenant building, but probably not unless I’m inside.” She desperately tried to think of somewhere else safe to leave her body, but couldn’t. There were no hotels nearby, or even apartments where someone might give her refuge. Only businesses not yet open for the day. “Or neither.”

  Or both.

  She hadn’t considered that possibility. The thought chilled her. “All right. I won’t go into the office, no matter what. Can we catch people on their way to work, before they go inside?”

  Maybe a few. But not for nearly an hour. That’s too long.

  “I agree.” She reached out, longing to clasp his physical hands. He showed her his astral hands wrapping around hers, and she felt their pressure on her fingers. It wasn’t enough, but it was better than nothing. “Let’s both think for a minute.” She hated the delay, when Carlos might set off the C-4 at the hospital at any moment, but Steve wasn’t going to agree to leave her and go there alone. And unless the explosive had been in his car when Carlos intercepted her, it would take him a while to retrieve it from wherever Angel had stashed it, make his way to the hospital, and figure out a way to smuggle it close enough to Steve’s unconscious body to make sure it did its job. “Maybe between us we can come up with some way out of this mess that neither of us can see by ourselves.”

  The pressure on her fingers increased, and she received an image of him nodding and closing his eyes. She closed hers, too. “Breathe.” She took a deep yoga breath, filling first her stomach, then her chest, then her throat, holding for a few seconds, then releasing the air from throat, then chest, then stomach. She felt him following her guidance as she repeated the sequence. Her body, conditioned to respond by many years of practice, defied the turbulence of her mind and emotions and relaxed. Tension flowed out of her muscles. Her mind settled, not all the way to the profound stillness of meditation, but at least out of its frantic, unproductive circling. Steve’s mind calmed in tandem with hers, surrounding and strengthening her. She nestled into the warmth of his presence and turned her attention to solving their problem.

  It didn’t take long. She swallowed. “I have an idea, but you’re not going to like it.” She didn’t like it either, but it would at least give both of them a chance to get through this alive.

  Dark humor tinged his thoughts. Let’s hear it. It can’t be much worse than our other alternatives.

  She didn’t have time to think about the best way to present her idea, but she tried to word it in a way that he wouldn’t immediately reject. “We need a true vision, to either confirm what Angel showed us, or to reveal what they really plan. As tired and worked up as I am, I’m going to have to go into deep meditation to seek for one, and it might take a while. I need you to guard my body while I do.”

  I can do that. We’ll need to find a spot protected from physical threats, but open enough I can see Angel’s astral attacks coming.

  She shook her head. “But I also need to get to the hospital, or at least near it. If I’m close enough physically, I can use telekinesis to help you stop Carlos without having to leave my body.”

  She felt his instinctive rejection of the idea and the effort he made to consider it anyway. I suppose we can call a cab, although it might take too long to get here, and all the reasons you chose to walk still apply. But I’m sure I can keep Angel away for one drive across town.

  She grimaced and steeled herself for his reaction. During her training Flora had emphatically impressed on her just how dangerous what she was about to propose was. Maybe Mathieu had skipped that aspect of Steve’s education, but she doubted it. “It will be faster and safer for you to carry me there telekinetically.” She sent him an image of what she meant. Her solid, physical self rose into the air and flew high over the city, supported only by the astral energy flowing from him as he soared, invisible, at her side.

  He was just as horrified as she’d feared. Dear god, Rosalia! I can’t. One lapse in concentration and you’d fall. Or what if Carlos gets there before we do and sets off the C-4? If my body dies, my astral form will vanish.

  Rosalia shivered, but stuck her chin out. “Even without our bond, my telekinesis is strong enough for me to lift myself. I’d rouse and stop my fall long before I hit the ground.”

  He shook his head, letting her see the gesture. Maybe under ordinary conditions, with both of us alert and ready to take over if the other faltered, I’d be willing to take the risk. But while you’re meditating, it will all be up to me. And Angel will be attacking us the whole way, trying to tear you out of my control. I don’t trust myself to fend them off and hold onto you at the same time. Not for every single instant, all the way there. He sent a vivid image of her slipping from his grasp and plummeting toward the ground.

  It chilled her blood, but she forced herself to ignore the fear. “I’ll be perfectly safe. Your telekinesis could carry me twenty times over. It could even before we bonded. And Angel is no match for you, even if Carlos and all their other agents mob you at once. If Robert or Sarangerel shows up, tell me and I’ll break my trance and help you fight them.” She reached to stroke the astral cheek she couldn’t feel while inhabiting her physical form. “I trust you.”

  The words slipped from her tongue without thought, simple and profound and true. She did trust him, with her life and her heart, her body and her soul. Whether she should or not. It wasn’t that she thought he was invincible, immune to human weakness and failure. All the risks he’d cautioned her about were real, and there was a chance he might not prove equal to them. But she was willing to put her fate in his human, fallible hands. She would live or die according to what he did and chose and was, and her heart was at peace with that.

  Unseen, his face pressed into her palm. The grave wonder in his mind acknowledged the significance of the moment, but he said only, All right. She felt his arms gather her close. Hold on. I’ve got you.

  He scooped her into the air. The ground fell away below. Her hair whipped around her face. She closed her eyes to shut out the wind and the sight of the rapidly increasing drop below. Instead, she focused on the solidity of his grip, the security of his mind supporting hers as surely as it supported her body.

  She let out a long sigh and relaxed. They floated together as they’d floated in the ocean, her body safe in his embrace. As the streets and buildings of Los Angeles flowed beneath them, she turned her attention to calming and stilling her mind. She sank into a deep meditative trance and cast her awareness into the future, o
pen to whatever she might find there.

  Chapter 25

  Present

  Steve carried Rosalia through the sky as fast as he dared, but not so fast the force or chill of the wind would drag her from her trance. He didn’t understand how she could relax enough to reach the necessary meditative state when all that supported her vulnerable physical flesh was his telekinesis, but her deep, even breathing told him she had.

  Angel’s agents flew to intercept him, five of them, all featureless. They must be keeping a few in reserve to maintain the telepathy barrier. He tested it again, with no more luck than any of the dozens of other times he’d tried.

  He blocked their lobbed balls of energy efficiently and returned fire with precise, controlled movements, always keeping the largest portion of his attention dedicated to the task of maintaining a smooth flow of energy from the astral realm into the physical world around Rosalia’s body. After two of the agents suffered broken tethers, they all retreated. As long as none of the three leaders made an appearance, Steve was confident of his ability to handle anything they might throw at him.

  They plagued him all the way to the hospital. Each time he drove them away, they regrouped and returned. Occasionally they varied their astral attacks by bringing up rocks and other debris from the ground to hurl at him, but Steve easily deflected them.

  Only once did they come close to breaking his focus. A flock of grackles overhead abruptly swerved and dove to surround Rosalia, screeching and striking out in confused panic at the invisible force propelling them. For several long minutes Steve fought to push them all away, but Angel’s agents kept catching them and throwing them back. He struggled against rising fear that threatened to choke him as their crowded bodies and wildly beating wings obscured his vision. Their numbers refused to decrease, no matter how many he shoved across the sky.

  When one got past his guard, blundered into Rosalia, and raked a long red streak down her arm with its claws, he abandoned restraint. With ruthless bursts of telekinetic power he wrung necks and stopped hearts. Feathered black corpses rained from the sky. He killed several hundred birds before Angel abandoned the attempt and released the rest of the flock. They fled, screaming a warning in shrill voices.

  Panting, he focused on Rosalia. Her eyes were open, and she was scowling and rubbing her arm. “Sorry,” he muttered. “Any luck?”

  “Not yet.” She gave him a twisted grin and shut her eyes again. He examined her arm, but it was only scratched, with just a few small drops of blood welling at one end. He wiped them away telekinetically. Within a few minutes her breaths were deep and even again.

  Finally, as the sun broke over the horizon, the hospital came into view. Steve slowed, his heart pounding, and scanned the area. Carlos was nowhere to be seen. Nor could he spot anything that might conceal several pounds of C-4. There were a few dark sedans in the parking lot and driving along the surrounding roads that might be the one Rosalia had shown him, but he couldn’t be sure, and none of them were doing anything to set them apart from the rest of the rush hour traffic filling the streets.

  Below, people were pointing and shouting. Others looked up in response to their cries. Steve grimaced. He hated keeping Rosalia aloft a minute more than he had to, but the instant they landed anywhere down there they’d be surrounded by a noisy, curious mob. That would surely break her out of her trance. If she hadn’t had a vision yet, he doubted she would, but he would give her every chance he could before thrusting her into noise and confusion.

  He chose a building a block away from the hospital. Its roof was flat, with a tarred gravel surface and a low wall around the edge. He kept Rosalia hovering twenty feet above while he searched every hidden nook behind air conditioning units, back-up generators, and other less identifiable equipment and determined that it was deserted.

  He brought her down to float a few feet off the surface. The tight band that had constricted his chest for the whole flight finally released. Now if his telekinesis failed and she fell, she’d suffer only minor bruises.

  Would she be safe if the hospital blew? Steve thought so, but it all depended on exactly how much C-4 Carlos had to work with. The amount they’d tried to use against the New York headquarters would destroy the whole building and rain debris for a mile in every direction. But if Angel had spent most of its store on that failed attack, they might only have enough to take out a floor or two.

  Steve tried one more time to contact Adrian and warn him of the threat, but he met only blankness. Grimly he paced around the roof, scanning the surrounding area. When he got back to the side facing the hospital, he stopped and stared at it. Once Rosalia either had a vision or concluded that she wasn’t going to, he would go over there and locate Adrian so they could discuss what to do next.

  The vision struck him at the same instant she stiffened and sucked in a noisy breath. With a herculean effort he managed to hold back enough attention to keep her floating, but the images consumed the rest of his mind.

  A cartoon villain with a black hat, a flowing dark cloak, and a spindly mustache that stuck out at least a foot to either side of his face tiptoed away from the door of the hospital, cackling in glee. When his exaggerated, mincing steps had carried him a few hundred feet away, he stopped, twirled his mustache, and whipped from his cloak a box with “Danger” printed on the side in blocky letters. A T-shaped handle protruded from the top, and a wire trailed back to the hospital.

  In a broad parody of Carlos’s cultured accent, he proclaimed, “I have you now, Steve Miller!” With a maniacal laugh, he set the box on the ground, grasped the handle in both hands, and shoved it down. A hissing, spitting spark ran down the length of the wire and vanished into the hospital. A few seconds later, a muffled boom shook the building. Flames and smoke poured from the fifth floor windows.

  Steve came back to reality with a gasp. Vaguely he registered Rosalia struggling against his telekinetic hold, so he turned her upright and released her. Her arms flailed until she caught her balance and ran to join him at the parapet. Together they stared at the hospital. It shone serene in the golden rays of dawn, with no sign of the damage they’d both just witnessed.

  Steve checked his sense of when the events would occur. They felt terrifyingly close. “Five minutes, or a little longer. Not more than ten.”

  She nodded, not taking her eyes from the door of the building. “Carlos must have just made a decision. He’s going to plant the C-4 and retreat to a safe distance to detonate it. Which means Adrian hasn’t caught him, and won’t.” She gave a mirthless laugh. “I guess he was keeping open the possibility of doing the suicide bomber thing if he had to. The odds were close to equal, so neither scenario was likely enough to generate a vision.”

  She set her jaw and climbed onto the parapet. “You go after the bomb. I’ll try to keep Carlos from pressing the button.” Before Steve could stop her, she stepped off the edge into space. Reflexively he threw out a surge of telekinetic energy to catch her, but she was already using her own telekinesis to soar in a swift but well-controlled arc toward the hospital door.

  Steve launched his astral form to follow her. He hated the thought of letting her face off against Carlos alone, but at least her body would be clear of the blast. When they neared the hospital, he veered toward the windows while she continued down.

  The smoke and flames in the vision had clearly come from the fifth row of windows up. His body was in the ICU on the sixth floor. That gave him an idea of where to search.

  The room immediately below where his body lay was occupied by an orderly changing the sheets. But the room next door was dark and empty. Steve flipped the light switch with a wave of his hand and ripped open every cabinet. Finding nothing, he shoved the bed and chair aside. Nothing under them, nor in the TV he tore apart, nor in the boxy monitor station he smashed into a rubble of plastic and wires.

  He was about to try the other room, regardless of the orderly’s presence, when he spotted a row of hinges peeking out from behind the room
’s main door, which stood open. He flashed through both it and the door of the bathroom it concealed. Taking up most of the meager floor space was a janitor’s cart, laden with mops, brooms, brushes, rags, bottles of various cleaning solutions, and a big bucket full of sudsy water.

  That explained how Carlos had gotten the C-4 through the hospital corridors unnoticed. Steve pulled water from the bucket, sending it in an arcing stream to the bathtub. A plastic-wrapped bundle appeared as the level fell. Steve gingerly removed the last of the liquid, disturbing the packet as little as possible. C-4 was stable, but he didn’t know what sort of booby-trap Carlos might have rigged to set it off if it was discovered.

  He couldn’t see one. Just the block of explosive, with a detonator embedded in its side. There wasn’t a lot of it—much less than they’d dealt with in New York—but plenty to wipe out this room and the one above. No wires leading from it. That had been part of the vision’s symbolism. Carlos must be planning to use a radio transmitter to set it off.

  Adrian, can you hear me?

  Yes, where are you?

  Right below you. Steve conveyed the situation in a flood of images and a few terse words of explanation.

  Dear god, Steve, I’m sorry. I can’t believe I missed him.

  He knew you were there. That’s why he stayed a floor below. They shouldn’t be wasting time on apologies or recriminations. There would be plenty of time for that later.

  If there was a later.

  Steve buried the grim thought and got down to business. How many of them are up there?

  Only enough to maintain the telepathy block, I think. They’ve stayed out of sight since you left.

  All right. What’s the shortest route to an outside wall? I can break straight through if there’s no window.

  West, probably. I haven’t had a chance to explore. Oh, wait, there’s a fire evacuation map on the door.

 

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