A Step Away
The Wanderer Series
Book 2
By Jocelyn Stover
Copyright 2013 Jocelyn Stover
This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places, and incidents either are a product of the author’s imagination or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or locales is purely coincidental.
All Rights Reserved
Cover Design by Nathalia Suellen
Editing by Michelle Bettis
Ebook formatting by www.ebooklaunch.com
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the author
To the Stoneham Sizzle,
who put up with the fantasy in my head like it’s reality,
and love me anyway.
Prologue
A brutal wind whips his face, and the exposed rock upon which he stands provides no protection from the harsh desert climate. It’s no matter; the elements are nothing more than a trifle annoyance. With that thought, Himyar cocoons himself in an invisible shield that keeps the swirling sandstorm at bay. Removing a silk scarf from around his nose and mouth he continues his survey of the canyon below. The souls of his brothers cry out to him, he can feel their essence and their energy in his blood. They are close, almost within his grasp. Himyar remains cautious though, not wanting to risk discovery by the Wanderers just yet. All magic leaves a residue and the ground below him is littered with theirs. When he deems it safe, slowly he descends from his perch with his highly tuned senses alert for the slightest sign of movement.
After centuries of enslavement escape was bittersweet. Himyar’s brief periods outside of his sphere had not prepared him for this world, and he’d had to spend the last few months educating himself and adapting to his new environment before making this pilgrimage. He was returning to where it all began - a hidden canyon in the Arabian Desert bordering a place they now call Jordan. This trip down memory lane is a first for Himyar, who has not been back since the original sealing. Clenching his fists he tries to suppress the angry wave that rolls down his body elicited by the memory of those self -righteous angels. But no matter, what’s done is done Himyar reminds himself as the black-eyed rage subsides slightly. The future is what matters now.
His senses had led him to this place of sand and rock: a valley he'd never intended to stalk through again. He is attracted by the pull of his brethren through an unexplainable tie all Sylph share. Approaching the mouth of the largest cave in the ravine, Himyar becomes giddy with anticipation, and his anger is temporarily forgotten. They are inside, he can feel them. Not being a fool, Himyar hesitates at the cavern’s entrance, well aware that the Wanderers will be alerted to his arrival the moment he steps inside. Closing his eyes he reaches out with his mind, casting about for the strange consciousness that is unique to the Wanderers. Finding nothing, Himyar’s eyes snap open and he grins, fully convinced the Wanderers aren't here. It goes without saying that the place will be booby trapped, but in order to bring about the glorious future Himyar has dreamt about he needs to free the others. To accomplish that dream he must find them first. Wicked mirth lights his face at the knowledge that a large majority of Sylph lay just inside. By now the Wanderers know Himyar has escaped his prison and is loose in the world, and an opportunity like this might never present itself again. With confident resolution Himyar follows his gut into the cave in search of his brothers, hoping time has made the Wanderers sloppy.
* * *
Bleep, bleep, bleep. A monitor chimes loudly in the command center of the Wanderers’ Utah facility. Cracking his neck, Basal runs a hand over his face, attempting to wipe away his exhaustion. He rolls his chair across the floor, silencing the alarm with a few simple key strokes and then brings a live video feed up on the main screen. Someone has gained access to Essam and tripped the motion sensors in The Vault of Souls. "Looks like he swallowed the bait," Bass reflects out loud as the face of Himyar greets him on the display. From the safety of his seat in Utah, Bass watches while a very irate Himyar gazes around the empty cavern seemingly stunned. As he stifles a laugh over what is most certainly not a funny situation, Basal witnesses the fit of fury that seizes Himyar. Staring straight at the camera he mouths something unintelligible seconds before bursting into flameless fire and fleeing the vicinity.
"That went about as well as could be expected," Basal mumbles as a chill threads its way up his spine. Quickly saving the feed he then pulls his cell phone from his pocket and calls Adil.
"It's happened."
Chapter 1
Gwen
Idly fiddling with the buttons on the passenger’s side door I stare out at the freeway. After months cooped up in the house you'd think I'd be able to maintain an air of righteous indignation, at least with the men responsible for my forced captivity, but I just can't. Being out of the house feels too good, and despite being kept semi in the dark about the goings on around me, the anger I'd mustered together this morning when I'd opened the door to find Z standing on my porch is rapidly slipping through my fingers. Since climbing into his SUV my countenance has improved with every mile traversed. By the time we reach the California state line I'm positively beaming. "A trip is exactly what I needed!"
"Well, don't get too excited, this isn't going to be a pleasure cruise," Zafir reminds me while he shakes his head over my rapidly shifting demeanor. "Glad to see you're talking to me again though," he blurts out after the fact. Leave it to Z not to sugar coat anything, which I have to remind myself is usually a quality I find endearing about him, just not today. It's not his fault, I tell myself, flashing him an apologetic smile. The verbal tongue lashing I'd unleashed upon him this morning was a culmination of my inactivity, ignorance, and insecurity. Zafir, he'd just been the messenger I'd unfairly skewered. I should be happy, well satisfied at least, to be included in this all hands meeting. It's just that I can’t help wondering why Kade didn’t come for me. I can't tolerate his continued absence even if I can understand it, especially when the one thing that should've had him pounding down my door, Wanderer business, didn't. Despite recent developments between us, Kade is one of my oldest friends and solid as a rock, which makes my growing feelings of abandonment all the more difficult to swallow.
When lacing my fingers together fails to contain my nervous fidgeting I sit on my hands. "Can we stop for a Coke? Please I'm desperate," I ask.
"As you wish," Z replies in his usual haughty tone but the attitude doesn't reach his eyes, which mirror the pain of an over protective brother. I flick my gaze away since pity is the last thing I want, especially from Zafir.
“So what you been up to?” Z asks after completing a ridiculously complicated drive through order. Geez, and I thought I was a picky eater. I pause l
ong enough for him to pay for and collect our food before slugging him in the shoulder by way of response.
“Ouch.”
“Seriously!” I continue, unfazed by his discomfort. “I’ve been under house arrest for months, what do you think I’ve been doing?” The rhetorical question looms in the air between us. Glaring across the cab I fold my arms over my chest.
“Geez, most people would be more grateful for the vacation.”
“Z!” I interrupt. “I’m a work-o-holic, so hanging out around the house all day is torture. I need to be doing something.”
“So read some books,” he tosses out with a wicked grin plastered across his smug face.
Tossing up my hands, I roll my eyes and ask again, “What do you think I’ve been doing?”
“Oh, so you tried the reading thing. Well, if you’d answered my question about your activities the first time I asked instead of jumping down my throat, it reasons you could have saved yourself some unnecessary exasperation.”
Touché, I think as a short laugh escapes my lips at having been outwitted by the Neanderthal sitting next to me. “Talk to me Z,” I plead, looking down at my lap. “I’ve been alone for months and no one tells me anything, which is both insulting and infuriating.” Fixated on the floorboards I sigh, past the point of being angry (which is unusual for me, what with anger being my go to emotion).
“Fuck woman, if I’d known you’d gone soft, all weepy and shit, I would’ve sent Hal to pick you up.”
Fired up by Zafir’s insensitivity I snap my head around. “Do you see tears? I haven’t been crying, dumbass. Look,” I say, numbering issues off on my fingers. “I have cabin fever, I’m sick of being kept out of the loop, and yes, I have some preposterous relationship issues but I’m not coming apart at the seams, and I’m not going to sit down and have a good old cry fest with you.”
Laughter bellows from his chest and Z smiles, “You wreck me, woman.”
“So what have you been up to without me?” I ask, steering the conversation in a more interesting direction. Seriously, my adventures in housewifery and home improvement mishaps really aren’t conversation worthy.
"Well, after the resealing half of the Wanderers set about relocating the Sylph spheres to Utah, while the rest of us delved into what happened at Preston-Ward Pharmaceuticals."
Actively listening I work to suppress a shudder over my previous boss’s mind blowing scheme and how I'd almost unwittingly accomplished it for him. My forced resignation had been a necessary safety precaution until the Wanderers could determine exactly what had transpired at Preston-Ward. Little did I know then that my hiatus would last over three months.
"Since you know all about the investigation I'll skip ahead to more recent developments," Z continues.
"Wait!" I blurt out, almost knocking over my Coke when my arms shoot out in alarm. "I don't know what you found; all Kade told me was that there were complications but not to worry because he was sorting them out." Mouth agape, Z looks at me dumbfounded. "That was two months ago," I tack on when he remains speechless.
"Mother fucker," he mumbles under his breath. "You mean, you don't know anything?"
"That's what I've been trying to tell you," I say as I shake my head, exasperated.
"But you're part of the team now, so what the hell is Kade thinking?"
"The team?" I question. "I'm pretty sure my part is over, Z."
"Never mind," he says, glossing over his previous comment. "Gwen, you need to be in the know, that’s all there is to it."
"Well we've still got four or five hours of driving, catch me up." For the duration of the trip Z talks and I listen, well mostly I listen, a girl’s got to throw her two cents in now and again. As it turns out, the Wanderers found no evidence that anyone but Mr. Taylor was involved in the scandal at Preston-Ward. Apparently what was brewing in my lab was his pet project and he was playing it close to the vest. Initially I took this as wonderful news, thinking I'd eventually be able to return to work. When I shared my conclusion with Zafir he just shook his head and reminded me I was forgetting about the complications Kade had mentioned.
The information was all over the news by the time the Wanderers had gotten involved but luckily no damage control had been necessary. My boss, Mr. Taylor, had been found dead in his office. The coroner’s official report listed cause of death as a massive heart attack, and a brief police investigation had found no signs of foul play.
“Hahaha!” I laugh and interrupt Zafir midsentence. “You realize the police investigation is your fault, right?”
“Come again, woman?” he asks, puzzled.
I sock him in the arm for being dense before deigning to answer. “Z, I seem to recall it was you who trashed not only one but two labs and some of the private offices just a few weeks ago.”
“You think...” he pauses, at a loss for words. “I’m pretty sure the message written in blood had more to do with that,” he finishes, hitting me with more information I had not known. His mischievous grin coupled with the haughty “gotcha” expression in his eyes is a serious slap in the face. I have to remember I’m not playing with a full deck at the moment. My knowledge is seriously lacking and somehow knowing Z is playing with a loaded hand really rankles me so I hit him in the arm again, a childish gesture on my part but immensely satisfying.
“As I was saying,” he drags out, feigning insult at having been so rudely interrupted. “The police found no evidence of foul play and decided the blood smeared on Taylor’s ledger was illegible gibberish, the lame ass attempts of a dying man to communicate.”
“Oh,” is all I can muster, as a gnawing suspicion firmly lodges itself in the pit of my stomach. It’s amazing how your body picks up on things the mind misses. What’s even funnier is the spectrum of visceral reactions we go through when the brain refuses to believe the truth. My gut was screaming that the blood was significant, but at the same time my brain wanted to dismiss it and I was scared to ask. Swallowing hard I turn and meet Zafir’s brittle stare. “Z, what did it really say?”
“The Red.”
“No human wrote that,” I acknowledge out loud.
“’Fraid not. The markings...well, they’re the calling card of Himyar.”
“Himyar,” I whisper, tasting the name on my tongue. “A Sylph killed my boss.”
“Yes.”
The information overload sinks in slowly, followed by a rush of new questions as my brain works out the potential repercussions.
“Did Mr. Taylor have two Sylph? Could he have had more? Can a Sylph really kill its own master?” I ask, thinking out loud. The jumble of inquires spills forth and I leap from one to the next without pause, guided by some algorithm unique to my brain.
“Gwen.... Gwen,” Z’s repetitious use of my name finally reaches me through my mental haze. Stopping dead in my tracks I glance over at him and ask, “What?”
Smirking he continues, “I can answer your questions or let you continue solving the world’s problems on your own, your choice.” I must have sat back and shut up faster than he’d thought possible because his stunned expression melts into a gravely laugh, which I endure silently for several minutes.
“When your boss’s dead body was found he was clutching a Sylph sphere in his fist. So yes, somehow he was in possession of two, and no, we found no evidence that he had more than that. To answer your third question no, a Sylph cannot kill their master directly.”
“So he got out,” I state.
“Yes, Himyar is on the loose.” The contempt with which Zafir utters the final confession surprises me. I didn’t think anything could get through that arrogant self assured persona of his, and I worry what kind of history could have bred the depth of loathing oozing from Zafir. Thankfully, for once wondering is all I do. Embracing what little empathy I have I lock down my curiosity, allowing Z his privacy on the matter. He’ll tell me if he wants to, I think to myself.
“So Himyar is the complication of which Kade spoke, the reason I’ve bee
n stuck at home,” I clarify.
“Yes, I guess you could look at it that way,” a more jovial Z replies, the dark shadow of moments before having lifted. “Shit.”
“Huh, what?” I ask, clueless.
“We can’t lose you, you’re too important,” he answers, piercing me with eyes full of genuine concern. In a blink that overprotective look settles over his face, seeming to say nobody fucks with Gwen on my watch and gets away with it.
Okay...,” I draw out.
“Sylph are notoriously vengeful Gwen, and well, no one wanted to trap you at home okay?”
I nod along like I fully understand where this conversation is going but I hope Z will get around to making his point soon.
“It was for your own good. The consensus of the group was that Himyar might come after you if he knew who or where you were. None of us could let that happen. You’re a contingency we hadn’t planned for either. Shit, we still don’t really know what to do with you.”
“And...?” I reply, dragging out my statement a little further this time.
“And although we’ve been looking everywhere, no one has seen Himyar in months, until yesterday.”
“So this meeting,” I say, prompting Z. I’m overwhelmingly curious to know what awaits us in Utah and what happens next.
“This meeting will determine our next course of action, and quite possibly yours as well.”
Chapter 2
My brain continues to mull over Zafir’s words as we pull into the Wanderers compound. The massive concrete structure is impressive and I know from my previous visit the inside is even more astonishing. While Z seems insistent on the fact I have a part to play in all of this, I can’t help but feel more like a stone around everyone’s neck. I’m sure the guys will breathe easier when Himyar’s been caught and things can get back to normal. I’ll be safe and no longer a burden on their consciences. Don’t get me wrong, these guys owe me a huge debt for my part in the resealing, but let’s be honest... now that it’s over they’ve got better things to do than babysit me and I have a human existence to sort out. Sighing, I climb down from the Yukon and stretch, my body stiff and sore from riding so long.
A Step Away (The Wanderer Book 2) Page 1