“The night we returned from the resealing I went to The Spotted Dog to meet Ben and Melanie. It’s a bar close to the station where Ben works and Melanie and I used to hang out there a lot. I arrived late and I was a wreck. I couldn’t force myself to go in, I was so full of conflicting emotions. I...I got overwhelmed and panicked. The next thing I knew I was standing in the dark alley next to the bar praying to God for help.” Leaning close Hal rests his chin on his hands, his eyes narrowing in that familiar way they do when his brain is working through a problem. “A man stumbled out from the back of the alley and I’ll never forget what he said. He told me ‘God has nothing, or perhaps everything, to do with it’. He scared me. I ran in the bar and never looked back. There was something not right about him, I felt it.” I look into Hal’s eyes hoping to have my nagging suspicion justified by another. “Anyway,” I continue when Hal keeps silent, “I almost stepped on the same guy when I left the salon today. I thought he was a beggar, and I was dropping money in his bucket when he looked up and told me I was an angel.”
"He didn't try to hurt or molest you in anyway?"
"No, he stumbled around like he was drunk or high but I know he wasn't. There is something more to him; I saw it in his eyes."
"And besides today you haven't seen this guy in the last five years? He hasn't been following you?"
"No," I answer as I become frustrated with Hal's line of questioning. He doesn't believe me, I realize with a shock. He's searching for a rational explanation.
"I'm not crazy!" I yell, jumping up from the chair. “That guy was not right."
"Gwen, I get it, many homeless individuals exhibit abnormal behavior patterns."
"Hal, it was more than that. He was more than that."
"He was what, Gwen, Sylph?"
"Wait, would I be able to tell?" I question.
"Some Nephilim claimed they could sense a Sylph’s presence but it's not a verifiable fact. What do you think he was?"
"Trouble," I answer, but of what kind I haven't a clue.
"Well, until we figure it out we can do two things," Hal says, ducking into the kitchen. "One, I'd like to install a tracking device in your phone and two, I want you to call me the second you see that guy again. You may not be able to tell if he's Sylph but I will." The menacing tone of his voice makes me shudder for an entirely different reason. I may delude myself with the idea that Hal is the nicest guy on the planet but a lethal predator resides just under the surface.
"Okay," I agree and hand him my phone. Popping the back cover, he makes a couple of manipulations then hands the device back to me, good as new. I look at the thing with distress; I feel like the last stitch of my freedom has been taken away. Now, potentially, my every move can be cataloged.
"It's not forever, just a little while," Hal promises, reading my face.
"I know." Although I’m calmer after having talked with Hal, a thread of unease lingers and without thinking I shoot Kade a text: “Everything’s fine, but I saw the guy from the alley again. He scares me.”
"Now if you’re up for it, I'd like to discuss the exploding coffee mug."
"Forget the fancy parlor tricks, I wanna discuss that hair," Rashid announces, having poofed in unannounced. Leaning down he smells the top of my head while his fingers run through my thick red strands.
"Gorgeous," he says as his fingers linger and his gaze sparkles, issuing an open invitation for something more.
"Thanks," I reply smacking his hands away. Unfazed by my outright rejection of his advances he moves on, opening the display case behind the counter and helping himself to a cupcake. I share a laugh with Hal over the unquenchable confidence Rashid exudes before getting back to the last topic introduced.
"I don't know what I did. I don’t think I can do it again," I start off.
"When you came in you caught the cup, then what happened next?"
"When I came in I was upset so I didn't assess the threat like you taught me. I just reacted, grabbing the thing midflight. I wanted to put it back on the shelf but I just couldn't let go. Then I started shaking and the mug started shaking and it exploded."
Cupcake in each hand Rashid hops on the counter content to eavesdrop on our exchange. "Whoa, that's awesome," he decides to chime in.
"Yes it is," Hal seconds. "What I'm more interested in is how she did it. Did she squeeze it until she crushed it or did she actually manipulate the flow of energy causing a tiny explosion? The physics behind either is mind boggling."
"Well, Kade was righter than he knew: our little Gwen really is phenomenal."
"Did you just use the words righter and phenomenal in the same sentence?" I ask, marveling at Rashid's atrocious use of vocabulary.
"Would you prefer I say more right? Righter gets the point across and it's more fun to say," he retorts. Sufficiently schooled I turn back to Hal while Rashid gloats with a huge grin on his face.
"All I can remember is that I was trying to stop holding the object and fly it back to the shelf."
"Fascinating. You're going to have to replicate the event," Hal says.
"What! How?"
"I'm not sure, but what I do know is we've barely begun to scratch the surface of what you can do." Oh great, I think to myself, that means even more bruises.
"If you need some private tutoring I'm available," Rashid announces, attempting to act aloof.
"Do you have a report or should you be getting along? Don't let us keep you," Hal snaps.
"Actually I do," he answers, surprising us both.
"Something weird's going on with the tree," Rashid begins, pulling Hal towards the kitchen. I hate it when that guy tries to exclude me. I might not be the MVP but I’m a part of the team too. Standing, I make to follow the guys when my phone rings. I snatch it off the table and answer with annoyance. “Hello?"
"It's good to hear from you too," I hear on the other end of the line. Kade!
My stomach flip flops and I hastily make my apologies. "I'm sorry, Rashid just brings out the worst in me some days."
"Some days? Is he there a lot?" Kade growls.
"Like everyday. He's got a serious sweet tooth."
"I got your message." That's right! I completely forgot I'd texted him. Sitting back down, I quickly recap the day’s events for Kade.
"I'm glad to hear Hal has increased security measures," he says after I finish.
"You believe me? You think this guy’s trouble?" I ask and my heart soars at his absolute faith.
"Gwen, I've never doubted you. I don't know if this man is anything out of the ordinary but I will find out."
"When will you be home?" I ask longingly.
"Soon enough," he chuckles, the deep rumble soothing even over the phone. "Tell Hal to be watching the news; our endeavor was a success."
"What does that mean?"
"That hopefully this will all be over soon. Goodbye Gwen."
"Goodbye Kade." Hanging up the phone, I'm vaguely aware Hal and Rashid have returned.
"That was Kade." My announcement comes out a tad robotic, the result of having pushed away a jumble of emotions I don't feel like dealing with at the moment. What a day. "Their mission was a success, and he says he wants us to watch the news. For what?" I question, hoping Hal will enlighten me.
"For a response, Gwen, for Himyar's response."
Looking back and forth between the two Wanderers, I try to decipher the source of the undisputable tension brewing under Hal’s usually calm exterior. Is something else amiss?
"So what’s this about the tree?" I ask, recalling Rashid's last statement before my phone rang.
"Nothing that we can say for sure. For now we watch and we wait," Hal answers.
* * *
Heeding Kade's advice, I flip on the news while re-plating take out from Hint of Sicily, my favorite little Italian bistro down the road. I grab a bottle of wine and plop down in front of the television to enjoy dinner. Not sure which news channel to watch, I settle for CNN, assuming global coverage is mor
e important than local. Half way through a loaf of garlic bread, a breaking headline from the Middle East catches my attention. An unnatural storm last week unearthed some ancient architecture in a valley outside of Jerusalem, and the latest news about the phenomenal discovery is that earlier this morning an earthquake leveled several statues that archeologists suspect were ancient deities. Most of the markings had been worn away but... I stop listening when pictures of the site scroll across the screen. Clutching the remote, I pause the program and cautiously approach the screen. Indeed most of the markings are gone, but on the left ankle of some man-beast thing is a symbol I've seen before years ago in Utah. With extreme trepidation I trace Himyar's symbol with my finger. I reach for my cell and dial Halim.
"Are you seeing this?"
"Z and Kade's handy work? Yes," Hal answers.
"Just checking." My lame response earns me a laugh.
"Now we play the waiting game," he says, and I take a deep breath and hang up. Suddenly the little haven we've built over the last few years doesn't seem so secure. Shit just got real.
Chapter 17
I aimlessly push a cart through the grocery store aisles while clutching my list. Somewhere between picking up milk and Coca-Cola I’d become distracted. I blame those chocolate fudge cookies on row four. The little elf-shaped goodies get me every time! Giving myself a mental shake, I check my shopping list and head for the produce section.
I needed to restock the essentials-and by essentials I mean Coke-but that fact is not the only thing that dragged me out of the house today. The mundane task of grocery shopping is just what I needed to decompress because nothing bad ever happens at the supermarket. A lot of bad seems to be happening everywhere else these days, and I mean a lot. Since I diligently began watching the news my days are chock full of horror stories. I can count on one hand the number of happy moments the journalists have chosen to share with the world this week. Now I remember why I don’t watch the news: it’s too depressing. From theft to homicide, kidnappings to bombings; there’s no shortage of disgruntled people, and I don’t know the half of it either. Like Hal says, I’m only privy to what they choose to release to the public. I don’t even want to imagine what he picks up off the record thanks to his police scanners and brilliant computer hacking abilities.
Debating which tomatoes look the best and how many squash to grab is making me hungry. As my stomach gurgles I laugh at myself: it seems my brilliant escape is backfiring. I bag my selection of veggies and hurry to find an open cashier. I pay for my lot, smile and thank the friendly clerk, then return my cart to the rack near the entrance. Taking stock of my surroundings, and with a bag full of groceries in each hand, I hustle to my car constantly scanning the parking lot for signs of danger. I’ve been jumpy ever since I ran into that homeless guy last week. I heave a sigh of relief when he doesn’t stumble out from behind a parked car, then I pop the trunk of the Mini and deposit my bags inside. Shooting upright when the musical jingle of my ringtone startles me, I narrowly miss hitting my head. I yank the phone from my back pocket and yell, “What?”
“Hello to you too,” Hal replies sarcastically. Heart rate decelerating, I shut the trunk before I actually manage to damage my person.
“You scared the shit out of me,” I reply.
“Why, what were you doing?”
“Putting groceries in the car.”
“You’re not at home?” Normally the benign question wouldn’t give me pause but the nervous, almost distressed, inflection in Hal’s voice triggers my own anxiety. Biting off the nasty retort I was prepared to deliver, I glance around as a cold, dreadful fear settles in my gut.
“What’s wrong?”
“Get in your car and come directly to my place... I don’t want you to be alone right now!” he demands.
I practically take flight a second time when my phone beeps to alert me I have another incoming call. I stave off my questions in an effort to wrap up with Hal and catch the new call before it goes straight to voicemail.
“I’m on my way,” I say as I end the phone call with Hal.
“Kade?” I answer, clicking over to the other line while climbing into the Mini.
He hears the breathless fear in my voice and demands, “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, Hal called...”
“You’re not with Hal?” he asks and cuts me off, the panicked and helpless edge to his words causing me to almost drop the phone.
“What’s wrong?” I stammer. What unfathomable terror could rattle my invincible protector? Flitting my eyes to the rearview mirror, I half expect to find Himyar bearing down on me.
“Go! Get to Hal, you have to get to Hal. I’m coming.” An inner trembling consumes me. He’s giving me orders like a soldier. Directions specifically designed to keep me alive. Until...?
“You’re worlds away,” I whisper, finally grasping the basis of Kade’s distress. I’m all alone. Petrified, I clutch the steering wheel and start the car, which is the vessel of my salvation. Battling back fear, I take a deep breath to steady myself so I can do what’s needed. One is all I get. I sputter and choke on the next as my lungs fill with abrasive smoke. Then a thick, dark cloud envelopes me, blocking out the world and making my eyes burn. I’m trapped and begin to panic. I have to get out of here. My unsteady hands frantically search for the door handle, desperate for the latch that means my freedom. Out of the nothingness a muscular arm reaches for me and I scream. Thick fingers clamp over my mouth and I bite down hard, fighting for all I’m worth.
“Stop that! Gwen, it’s Rashid. It’s Rashid!” Unable to process the information, I continue to kick and punch wildly as the smoke clears. “Stop it, you’re making a scene! People are going to think I’m abducting you.” I see him reach down and pick up the phone I’d dropped in all the confusion.
“It’s Rashid, I have her, she’s safe,” he says into the phone. He pauses while Kade addresses him. “Spooked her is all... Hal couldn’t get away... Alright see you soon.” Per usual, anger brings me back to reality and I hope Kade ripped him a new one for scaring me to death.
“Relax, I’m going to let you go,” Rashid whispers in my ear now that I’ve finally stopped squirming. It’s a bad move on his part. The second I’m free I start pummeling him with blow after blow, tears of frustration streaming down my face. Infuriatingly, he doesn’t fight back, just locks my wrists together in one massive hand and pulls me against his chest, cradling me until I cry myself out.
“Bastard,” I whisper hoarsely against Rashid’s shirt. Embarrassingly enough, my voice is raw with emotion despite having regained much of my composure.
“I’ve been called worse,” he chuckles, loosening his hold on me. “Can you drive?” His dark eyes snap with electricity and I can’t help but wonder if this whole damsel in distress thing isn’t working for him. Gone is the carefree playboy smile and the confident masculinity I find in its wake suddenly makes me very uncomfortable.
“Yes, I’ll manage,” I answer. Shifting he lets me pull away.
“Careful,” he warns surprisingly, drawing me close again. “You don’t wanna land on the stick shift,” he jokes.
“Oh yeah.” Being more cautious in the tight cab I slip into the driver’s seat and start the ignition.
“Why did you do that?” I ask, still completely clueless about the emergency that sent Rashid poofing to my aid.
“Hal sent me. He was working on something for Adil and couldn’t get away.”
“But he just called, and I told him I was on my way,” I answer, thoroughly baffled. What was so important that it couldn’t wait the fifteen minute drive?
“He called, so I came,” Rashid shrugs next to me like I’m making a big deal out of nothing.
“The least you could have done was show up outside the car. I nearly choked to death on all that smoke.” Not to mention the heart failure he’d given me.
“You’re kidding. I can’t just poof into a busy parking lot in the middle of the day! Are you
crazy? People would freak out. Popping into your car was risky enough.”
“Oh.” I coincide, he has a point.
“I still don’t get how you do that,” I say as I shake my head. “How do you...ya know, not poof into a pole or a wall or something?”
“That’s like asking how a bird flies. It’s part of who I am, I just do it.”
“Okay, okay,” I relent, laughing at Rashid’s lack of fascination with his totally badass ability.
“Why were you sent to me?” I bite my lip, hoping he’s in a talkative mood. Rashid isn’t always comfortable discussing Wanderer business in my presence.
“It’s the tree.”
“The Nephilim family tree,” I clarify. “Oh, I thought it had something to do with Himyar.”
“It does!” His expression of disbelief is insulting, like magically I should have pieced everything together without having any of the facts supplied.
“Don’t look at me like that! I’m ignorant, not stupid.”
“The tree...it’s dying.”
“Huh?” I utter inelegantly. The tree is not an actual tree; it’s a pictorial representation of the angel’s descendants, both past and present. If what Rashid’s saying is true it would mean... “Redheads are dying,” I voice my conclusion. Rashid nods in acknowledgment. “Why is this the first I’m hearing about it? How does Himyar keep something like that a secret?”
“He’s not.”
“But I haven’t heard anything about it in the news.”
“The humans haven’t picked up on it yet,” he clarifies for me. “Basal and Hashim noticed it a couple weeks ago: the leaves are withering up, dying at an above average rate. They’ve been monitoring the situation.”
“Define average?” I ask.
“Well, just like other humans, Nephilim grow old and die. Tragedy and disease claim a few every year as well. When a Nephilim dies,” he looks at me pointedly before continuing, “the leaf with their name attached to it withers away. Each leaf is a life, and once that life is gone nothing but a name on the branch remains. The percent that perish each year remains fairly constant.”
A Step Away (The Wanderer Book 2) Page 13