A Step Away (The Wanderer Book 2)

by Jocelyn Stover

  “Okay. And now?”

  “We’ve lost hundreds in the last several weeks,” Rashid explains.

  “How has nobody noticed that?”

  “Himyar’s spread it out over the globe, which helps some, but don’t fool yourself. The disappearances haven’t gone unnoticed. The authorities just haven’t found many of the bodies yet.”

  Yet. My mind sticks on that word and a chill winds its way around my spine like a serpent. What will happen when they do find the bodies? What will they think?

  “You’re sure they’re all dead?” I ask, holding out hope that not all of the missing Nephilim have perished.

  “The tree doesn’t lie.”

  “Then if you’re here, you must be worried he’ll come after me.” My inner trembling begins again when Rashid confirms my conclusion by the pained expression scrolling across his face. I hold my tongue the rest of the way to Hal’s. I’m not sure if I’m ready to hear more just yet.

  Hal’s doorman lets us in without a second thought. “Good day Gwen.”

  “Thank you Henry,” I smile, trying to cover over Rashid’s rudeness when he shoulders his way past us into the lobby. Wordlessly, I follow him and we ride the elevator in silence.

  “Thank God, she made it.” I hear Hal speak into the receiver of his phone when we enter. “You too,” he finishes, ending the call before rushing over to hug me tightly.

  “You don’t believe in God,” I tease.

  “On the contrary, my belief has never been in doubt. It’s my devotion that’s another matter.” The impish grin I love brightens his worry-lined face.

  “Was that Kade?” I ask, betting he kept Hal busy on the line until he could verify my whereabouts.

  “Over protective,” he admits, lifting his brows for emphasis. “Come, we have much to discuss.” Hal returns to his wall of computers and waves us over. Stealing away for a moment I shoot Kade a text. If the tides were turned and I’d had to endure his petrified screams from thousands of miles away, I’d be out of my mind with worry too. Tucking the phone in my back pocket after reading Kade’s quick reply, I rejoin the guys.

  “I think it’s high time someone shared a little information with me. Not you,” I add when Rashid opens his mouth to speak. “You’ve done quite enough for one day.”

  “First enlighten me,” Hal dictates, gaze bouncing back and forth between Rashid and me.

  “Fine!” I capitulate with annoyance. “Rashid poofed directly into my car. He nearly suffocated me and succeeded in scaring the shit out of me. Oh, and the best part is that Kade, whom I was on the phone with at the time, got an earful when I screamed my head off like a little girl.” Arms folded across my chest, I glare at Rashid. My inner angst resurfaces while I rehash the details for Hal. The rolling laughter I’m expecting never comes; both men simply stare at me, Rashid a tad sheepishly.

  “I take it back, over protective doesn’t begin to describe it,” Hal affirms.

  “Just tell me what’s going on,” I push, trying to move past the disastrous details leading up to our arrival.

  “Over the last month 337 Nephilim have gone missing and have subsequently been killed. Basal is keeping a tally.”

  “Is this the response Kade and Z told us to be watching out for?” I ask.

  Hal frowns as he considers my words. “I’m afraid not. The disappearances began before Zafir and Kaden completed their objective.”

  Numbly I sit on the sofa. If that’s true, then whatever Himyar’s doing isn’t retaliation. “It’s premeditated,” I mutter.

  “Yes.”

  “What do we do?” My eyes plead with the Wanderers for illumination, for a ray of hope in the brewing chaos.

  “What can we do? We haven’t the slightest clue what he’s up to,” Rashid rattles off.

  “Hal?” I petition, counting on his infinite wisdom to see the missing angles and find a way out.

  “There’s no way to cover this up since we don’t know where the bodies are.” Stricken, he rubs his chin. “There’s also no way to stop him unless we can decipher what his ultimate objective is and where he’s likely to strike next.”

  “I’d settle to know his whereabouts, then we could take the fight to him,” Rashid growls, punching his palm to simulate a mock beat down. Despite Rashid’s enthusiasm for violence, a depressing foreboding permeates the air, causing a lull in conversation. I’m mindlessly running my fingers over the fringe of the couch pillows when a new thought crashes through my moment of quiet introspection.

  “How do you destroy a Sylph? I assume the sphere is no longer an option.”

  “You would be correct,” Hal answers, perking up a bit. “The angels didn’t give us the means of returning a Sylph to its sphere once they have broken free.”

  “Killing them is a nasty business,” Rashid adds.

  “But it can be done,” I press.

  “A Sylph can only be killed when in corporeal form, which is why it’s incredibly difficult to accomplish. In a fight they shift fluidly from their essence to solid form or vice versa, depending on what gives them the advantage.”

  “And if ya spook ‘em, they teleport away the first chance they get.” Rashid keeps his side commentary going.

  “So you have to trick them into staying in their humanoid form,” I surmise, not really sure how to accomplish said task.

  “Thankfully the angels didn’t make it that difficult. Uriel entrusted us with his sword, Resheph,” Hal says.

  Only one sword...that’s kind of stingy, I think. “And this sword is the only thing that can kill a Sylph?”

  “No, we have to decapitate them,” Rashid says and beams.

  “I was getting to that,” Hal grinds out, letting Rashid know it’s okay to shut the hell up with his eyes. “Resheph prevents a Sylph from shifting into its essence as long as the sword remains firmly lodged in the Sylph’s flesh. Then, as Rashid explained, it’s simply a matter of separating the head from the shoulders.”

  “So while they’re solid you have to pierce them with the sword, which keeps them from shifting so you can decapitate them,” I reiterate.

  “Precisely.”

  Seems to me the angels could have given the Wanderers a little more aid than just one sword for twelve guys. It seems impractical. If you weren't in the right place at just the right time you'd be completely screwed.

  “You're not invincible, so does this instrument of destruction, Resheph, have the power to end your life too?" I ask them.

  Hal refuses to look at me and instead turns to gaze fixedly at the blaring wall of electronics. The vulnerability of Hal and his brethren is the one subject he's consistently avoided discussing with me over the years. To make this deja vu scenario complete, all he has to do is blow off my question by asking one of his own like he’s historically done. I suspect he won't do that today, not when my ignorance could mean one of their lives.

  "Yes Gwen, I believe Resheph has the capacity to do that which no mortal weapon to date has been capable of. The theory, of course, has never been tested."

  "Thank you," I whisper, knowing the admission cost him dearly even if I don't understand why. “Where is the sword now?”

  “Utah. It hasn’t been needed in decades,” Rashid replies, fumbling with his phone.

  How convenient. We have no idea where Himyar is hiding, why he’s killing Nephilim, or where he’ll strike next, and the only weapon on earth that can stop him is hundreds of miles away. Reading my thoughts, Hal walks over to join me on the couch. “Never fear, the cavalry is coming.”

  Chapter 18

  Reinforcements roll in sometime before...well not exactly daybreak, since a glow can be seen seeping in around the curtain edges, but it’s well before decent folk should be awake.

  "Did you miss me?" Zafir purrs, bouncing onto the mattress next to where I lie snuggled under the blankets.

  "Do you have the sword? Do you know where Himyar is?"

  "No and no, but the sword’s too damn heavy to lug about a
nyway."

  "Then get out and let me sleep," I growl, trying to keep the affection from my tone and sound fierce.

  "I missed you too," he tells me lovingly while obediently retreating from the room. Pulling the covers tight around my body, I hunker down and drift back to sleep, secure in the knowledge that Z and Kade have arrived safely.

  When I finally emerge from Hal's spare bedroom (where I crashed last night) the transformation is impressive. The previously sparsely furnished living area has morphed into what I imagine a war room at the pentagon might look like. "Whoa," escapes my lips as I shuffle to the kitchen following the trail of voices.

  Hal, Kade, and Z, three of the largest men I've ever met, sit packed around a small dinette drinking coffee. The utter normalcy of the situation strikes me as humorous and I chuckle, garnering me the attention of the trifecta of masculine splendor. Their eyes, all a bit tired around the edges, burn with intensity and purpose as they stare back at me. The sheer relief and longing reflected in Kade's eyes, which hover around the edge of the oversized T-shirt I’d worn to bed, makes me feel awkward and I start talking just to have something else to focus on.

  "Where's Rashid?"

  Knocking his chair back, Kade pulls me tight against his chest, crushing my body and smothering my words. After what I put him through yesterday on the phone and the helpless dread I know he’s been shouldering since, his response is no surprise. Emotional flood gates open and I cling back with an intensity bordering on desperation, surprising myself. Normally I feel confident and capable, but yesterday with Kade thousands of miles away I’d let my own vulnerability nearly drown me.

  "Took off, he'll be back," Z answers, having heard my muffled query and pretending not to notice what Kade’s hands are doing around the hem of my shirt. Girlie moment over, I pull back and Kade goes to prepare me a cup of coffee, leaving his seat vacant at the table for me. I shake my head when he nods towards the chair.

  "You guys have a lot on your plate and I want to get out of here before the bad news starts rolling in. Thankfully, I have work," I announce, grateful for the mundane routine of the bakery.

  "No," Kade sputters from behind me.

  "Don't you ‘no’ me! I'm of little help here and I have cake orders to complete. I've already got a chip in my phone and I'll be with Hal the entire time," I rattle off, daring Kade or anyone else to object further. Z whistles and I watch mesmerized while Hal and Kade lock eyes, a nonverbal battle raging between them. With a feather light touch I reach for Kade's hand. "This is a distraction," I say, emphasizing the two of us. "I need you close but not this close. We both have things that need finishing." Dropping his hand, I callously look away. I’m not ready to have the conversation about how my mission has not gone as smoothly as his.

  "Are you ready?" I ask Hal. Nodding, he grabs his keys off the counter and I head for the bedroom to change without another word.

  * * *

  While the bakery provides me with physical purpose, I can't completely escape the chaos. Hal has both his laptop and the television running, not to mention the fact that his phone is buzzing up a storm. In the beginning, he was keeping me abreast of the news as the bodies were being discovered until a whole family of gingers was found dead in their Hampton estate. At that point I'd asked him to stop; knowing hundreds of people have been killed is one thing, knowing the particulars about the deaths is something else. It makes it intimate, personal. If I'm going to retain my sanity I need to stay emotionally detached, which I cannot do if I keep picturing Susan what’s-her-face wearing my favorite running shoes while bleeding in a ditch.

  Growling, I take my mounting frustration out on an overdone pan of cupcakes.

  "You ready to talk about it?" Hal inquires, appraising me over his shoulder while he scrubs pans in the sink.

  "No!" I blurt out.

  "Okay, different subject then. What have you decided regarding Ben?"

  I’m blindsided by his question, losing my grip on the spoon with which I've been viciously attacking a bowl of cake batter.

  "Shit," I mutter as I fail to recover the spoon, which clatters to the floor and flings tiny droplets of sticky goo everywhere. Grabbing a rag, I attempt to pat the worst of the batter off my apron and arms. "I don't know," I toss the copout at Hal.

  He dries his hands to help me clean up the rest of the mess. "Gwen, it's time."

  I know it's time, it's past time. I shouldn't have put the decision off this long, but I can't bring myself to crush Ben. I care too much about him to scar him for life with those emotionally crippling three little words: I'm leaving you.

  "I've wasted the best years of his life. If not for me he could've had a family. How do I tell him that he's not worth my time, worthless, that I don't love him?" Clearing my counter and dumping the dirty utensils in the sink, I pause and am stricken with uncertainty. Some pains aren't easily overcome; some embitter us instead of making us stronger.

  "Then don't."

  "What are you saying?" Befuddled, I look at Hal.

  "There is another option," he reminds me.

  "Death-the cowardly way out." A bitter laugh escapes my lips. Simple and efficient, faking my own death would solve all my problems and save me from the consequences of past decisions. That's what really rankles - it's like a get out of jail free card and I don't deserve it.

  "You may choose to look at it that way but in this case I don't think anyone would blame you."

  "But I'll blame me."

  "As I blame myself for my wives’ suffering. Gwen, you must decide for yourself. What type of pain can you stomach leaving him with?" Hal asks me.

  Separation or rejection: the answer is obvious when you put it that way. Rejection is a poisonous burden and one I refuse to let Ben carry. "Death," I choose in a breathy whisper. Squeezing my eyes shut, I mourn for the good man whose world I'm about to destroy.

  "Then we've already been provided with the perfect scenario," Hal announces, flipping his laptop around so I can see the latest media heading.

  "You want to pretend I'm one of the Nephilim disappearances. That's sick."

  "No it’s genius. It's only a matter of time before the world makes the connection that the string of recent homicide victims all have red hair." I can't argue with his logic but an involuntary shudder runs the length of my body. Even pretending to be one of Himyar's victims is not the way I would have chosen to go.

  "Okay, but give me until after Saturday. It's Ben's birthday."

  "I think we can accommodate that."

  "Accommodate what?" Rashid's jovial tone reaches us through the kitchen partition.

  "My untimely demise," I say, making light of my impending fictitious destruction.

  "Huh?" Rashid pauses mid-bite, a thin smudge of frosting coating his top lip. A snort of amusement over his comical expression rocks me. Clutching my sides, I move towards the sink, grab a paper towel, and begin to dab the moisture clouding my vision. Sometimes I’m concerned about my morbid sense of humor.

  "We've decided to fake Gwen's death to protect her loved ones," Hal answers and comes to my aid with the succinct explanation.

  "After Saturday," I tack on.

  "After Saturday," Hal inclines his head in agreement. "Himyar has provided us with the perfect set up."

  Rashid eyes me with a modicum of concern. "So be it," he says and shrugs. In an unexpected maneuver he reaches out, gently laying his hand on my shoulder. "I'm here if you need anything." His sultry voice promises an unexpected fire, stoking the ardent embers in his gaze. A faint whistle, like an object moving through the air at tremendous speeds, reaches my subconscious but I pay it little heed as I’m locked in the awkward moment with Rashid. A resonating thwack, like steel meeting stone, accompanies the fist when it makes contact with Rashid's jaw. Startled by the sucker punch, I snap back to reality, and self-preservation causes me to press myself back against the sink. Kade’s subsequent attempt to land another blow fails: he’s lost the element of surprise and Rashid evades hi
m easily, teleporting to safety at the last minute.

  "Lucky shot," Rashid tells Kade from where he's rematerialized behind Hal, rubbing his chin.

  "Was that really necessary?" I shout, crossing my arms in exasperation over the ridiculous display of petty male jealously.

  "Yes!" Kade barks, not taking his eyes off his adversary.

  "Message received," Rashid announces, having lost none of his usual swagger. Spitting blood on the floor he disappears in a flash of smoke.

  "The guy was practically humping your leg," Z chuckles, coming to lean against the counter beside me. With wild eyed indignation I scoff, but slowly I come to see the situation from his point of view. From Kade's perspective it would have looked like his brother was macking on his girl, and I know if the tides had been reversed I would've put the chick responsible on her ass as well. This is the first time Kade has asserted his claim on me...since I’ve been conscious, that is. The time before in the desert doesn’t count. Although I'm fully capable of taking care of myself and should be totally appalled by his Neanderthal response, I still find it sexy as hell.

  "Well, when you put it that way," I say and smile up at Z. “I didn’t know you were coming,” I announce as I grab an extra paper towel and the disinfecting spray to help Hal, who is diligently mopping up Rashid's parting mess. I don't offend Kade by asking if he's alright since with his superhuman strength and healing abilities I know he’s fine. Instead I peek at him from under my lashes like a school girl with a crush. His dark hair is disheveled, the line of his jaw taut, and from his vigilant stance you’d think he was expecting the rest of the room to challenge him any second.

  “He had it coming,” Hal smirks, standing to throw away the used towels.

  “Come on guys, Rashid’s harmless. He only wants me for my cupcakes.” Stunned silence makes me wonder what on earth I’ve said. Slack jawed, Kade and Z both stare at me, but while Z looks completely amused, the rage building in the depths of Kade’s pupils makes my heart race. Hal’s roar of laughter cuts through the confusion a half second before I piece it together.