by Alysha Ellis
Hopewood shook his head. “The need will be temporary. Once you have completed your task, I can ensure your unwanted abilities never trouble you again.”
Elijah leaned over the table, forcing himself not to grab the man by the collar. “If you can cure me of this…affliction, do it now.”
Hopewood’s eyebrows rose. “Then you wouldn’t be able to do the job I need you to. You’ll have to wait.”
“What if you’re lying?” Elijah leaned back enough to give himself room to breathe.
Hopewood’s mouth twisted into a bitter line. “I’m not lying. The Dvalinn have the ability to remove the special abilities of their people. They use it to minimize the chances of detection when they come to the surface. The physiology of humans and Dvalinn is similar. Any process that negates telekinetic or empathic abilities in the Dvalinn will work on a human. Once I have achieved my objective, you have my word, those facets of your nature that cause you such distress will no longer trouble you.”
“I could force you to do it now.” Elijah’s fists clenched on the table in front of him.
“I’m not afraid of you. I have a high tolerance for pain.” Hopewood shrugged. “I don’t believe you’d hurt me to gain what you want. You have an altruistic nature. You’ll find it hard to resist doing humankind such a service.”
“I haven’t agreed to anything,” Elijah muttered.
“Come to a training camp. I’ll give you fifty thousand dollars if you give me one month. If at the end of that time you wish to call a halt, you’ll be free to return here to resume your fire-fighting duties, fifty thousand dollars better off. If you agree to continue, at the end of the mission I’ll place half a million dollars into any account you nominate. I’ll take care of the other matter for you.”
“All I have to go on is your word.”
“I’m sure you looked me up on the net,” Hopewood said. “You know I’m good for the money, but if it will ease your mind my lawyers will draw up a contract—one that binds me but leaves you free to do whatever you decide.”
“There’s a saying,” Elijah mused. “If it seems too good to be true, it probably is. Why would you sign a document limiting your choices but not mine?”
“Because I need you.”
“But I don’t need you.’ Elijah replied. “I’ve lived thirty-four years without knowing anything about these…Dvalinn. I’ve managed to keep a lid on my other problem.”
“The lid’s about to blow off, though, isn’t it? One more accident, good or bad, you might have no choice.” Hopewood stood. “I’ll have the documentation drawn up. I’ll be back in two days—if you don’t contact me first.”
He walked to the door and let himself out. Elijah sat at the table, staring into space, not sure if he was trying to comprehend all Hopewood had told him or to bury it so deep he’d never have to think about it again.
He tried to fit what he knew and what he feared into a coherent pattern but it only disturbed him more. Any truth that explained all the things happening around him was too horrible for comfort.
He pushed himself up and went to get dressed. At least at work he’d find something to take his mind off this ridiculous conversation.
By the time he arrived at the station his eyes felt gritty and a headache pounded inside his skull. The creak of the station chief’s door opening grated on his nerves like nails on a chalkboard.
“Elijah, could I have a word with you?” he asked. The words clanged in the air around Elijah with the ring of doom. He followed the chief into his office.
“You’ve attracted a fair bit of attention lately, Elijah.”
“I hate it,” Lije replied. “I never asked for any of the reporters to follow me around or write those stories.”
“I don’t imagine you did,” the chief said. “But nevertheless you’re a topic of interest. Every fire we attend has a swarm of journalists and photographers getting in our way, shoving microphones in people’s faces. The guys are getting pretty fed up.” He leaned back in his chair. “And I only have to take one look at you to know it’s getting to you too.”
“My fifteen minutes of fame has to be over soon. The media will move on to something—or someone—else. I’ll keep a low profile…”
“Yeah, I don’t think that’ll work, Lije. Every rescue you make, there’s gonna be scrutiny and speculation.” He rocked forward. “I think it might be a good idea if you took some leave.”
“I don’t need—” Elijah began.
“I don’t want to make this a formal suspension, Lije. You don’t deserve that, but I will do what is necessary to keep this station working and the people manning it an efficient team. We can’t afford anything divisive. The attention you’re getting is having that effect.”
The man’s tone told Elijah any further argument would be futile. “How long before you want me back?” He looked up as the silence hit him. “You do want me back, don’t you?”
“If you can come back as a team player, yeah, we want you. You’ve always been one of our best firefighters. But we don’t want a celebrity with a reputation. If that happens, you’ll be looking at a transfer out of here.”
And if he had to take a transfer out of this station, Elijah was pretty sure his unwanted fame would precede him at any station in the state—maybe in the country.
Shit! His life had got a whole lot messier.
Chapter Two
“Eora, get back here. Now. You’re going to get into serious trouble.”
“When has that ever stopped me?” Eora shifted her pack higher on her shoulders and turned to face her companion.
“Never,” Nieko muttered, loud enough for her to hear. “But the situation’s changed. Turn around. Come back to the city.”
She lifted her chin. No one, not even Nieko, told her what to do. “I don’t think so.”
Nieko took a deep breath, the ridged muscles of his chest flexing. He was so handsome. So good. So everything she wanted. A pity he wasn’t interested in her as more than his best friend.
His gruff voice recalled her to the conversation. “And there’s the problem, Eora. You don’t think. You do what you want.”
Eora shrugged. “Even if I get caught, I’ll get off with a warning. That’s what happened last time we went somewhere we weren’t supposed to.”
“Only because we hadn’t reached adult status. You won’t get away with a warning this time,” Nieko said. “The council is on high alert.”
“It doesn’t bother me.”
“Well it bloody well should! This is not a game. Maybe you don’t remember how many of our people were killed when the Gatekeepers attacked.”
“I’m not stupid.” Eora’s voice grew sharp with anger. “Of course I remember. I also remember Tybor and Huon went to the surface to wipe out the Gatekeepers. The human they brought home with them killed the leader and saved their lives.”
“If you know all that, you know how dangerous it is outside the cities now. Why the hell are you leaving the safety of the inhabited zone?”
She felt her face heat. Hell, she hated that. She shouldn’t feel ashamed of the things she wanted to know.
“It’s your damn fascination with humans again isn’t it?” he snapped. “How many times do you have to be told? They’re the enemy.”
“The one who saved Tybor and Huon isn’t.”
“So they say. But no one believes it. Why do you think they have to live in exile? No one trusts her. No one ever will, even if it weren’t for the…” He broke off. Under his golden skin, twin red slashes fired up on his cheekbones.
“Their relationship. The three of them are in a re-lay-shon-ship.” She said the words slowly as if she were talking to the fool she knew very well Nieko wasn’t. “I would have thought you could at least talk about it to me.”
“I can’t. I won’t. You don’t know who might be listening.”
Eora made a strangled sound of disgust. “Let them listen. They don’t frighten me.”
As she watched,
everything in Nieko stilled. His faced looked hard, only his eyes glittering. “They should frighten you. The Un-Dvalinn Behaviors Committee are zealots. Zealots are dangerous.”
“I can stay out of the way of the UDBC.” She grinned at him.
“Shows what you know,” he retorted. “High alert means they have a trace on every teleport. They know who, when and where. You zap out of here and within thirty seconds of materializing at your destination they’ll have someone there to arrest you. You won’t get away with it.”
“Actually, I do know. Which is why I’m not teleporting at all.” She patted the shoulder strap of her pack. “I have everything I need in here. I’m going to walk to where I’m going.”
“No! Turn around and go home.” He sounded fierce and angry but she knew Nieko would never hurt her.
“I’m not going back. I want to know the truth. It matters to me.” She poked him in the chest, her finger barely making an indentation in the golden-brown skin. “It used to matter to you.”
The high spots of angry red flamed brighter on Nieko’s cheeks. “The truth only matters if it can be used to protect our people.”
Eora’s fists clenched. She opened her mouth to speak but Nieko cut her off.
“Maybe this human is harmless. It doesn’t matter. The council condemned Tybor and Huon’s sexual relationship with her as un-Dvalinn. If they hadn’t voluntarily gone into exile they would have been imprisoned.”
“So if I want to talk to them I have to go to where they are,” she said in a teacher-like singsong. Nieko was intelligent. She shouldn’t have to lead him to the obvious conclusion.
“It’s not safe! Most of the UDBC want Tybor and Huon locked up and the human killed. Even if you knew where they’d gone, they’re not going to roll out the welcome mat. They’re likely to attack first and never ask any questions. They’ll hurl fireballs at you on sight.”
“If they do, I’ll duck.” She smiled at him again even though she knew it drove him crazy. “I don’t look like a member of the UDBC. As long as I don’t do anything aggressive, Tybor and Huon won’t attack me.” She really hoped that was true, because the exiled warriors had reputations for being outstanding fighters. If they threw fireballs, the chances were they’d hit any target they aimed at. While she had passed the compulsory fighting units in her education, she’d been a long way from the top of her class.
“You are so naïve,” Nieko shouted. “It’s not safe.”
“You keep saying it but I still I don’t believe it,” Eora stated. “I’m doing this. You can come with me or go back to the city. Please yourself.”
For a long moment she waited but Nieko remained silent, arms folded, feet planted apart, as immovable as the rock walls of the caverns they lived in. At last she turned her back on him and walked away.
* * * * *
Nieko watched Eora leave, his fists clenched. From the time they’d been kids, Eora had done what she wanted to, courted any risk, always certain she was right.
They’d been paired as partners from their first battle training session. Eora was a quick, agile fighter, with a strong capability for strategy, but Nieko had always been taller and stronger, always tempering the force he used against her in combat practice.
Because Eora refused to admit inferiority in any field, Nieko disguised his protective urges, but he never left her to face any situation on her own. Wherever Eora went, Nieko went too, his help and protection always there for her. When a youthful, impulsive Eora had tried to sneak up to the surface world to observe human activity, he had gone with her.
Trouble had found them, but not from humans. A representative from the Un-Dvalinn Behaviors Committee had met Nieko and Eora at the exit portal, arrested them and dragged them before the tribunal, charged with attempting an unauthorized surface excursion. It had taken all Eora’s high-ranking parents’ influence to get them let off with a warning and a reeducation course. Nieko, who didn’t need the course, had attended diligently. Eora had skipped most of the lessons, relying on Nieko to cover for her. Because Nieko always did.
“I never learn,” Nieko muttered to himself as he watched the diminishing figure of Eora striding into the distance. Maybe he’d be able to convince her to turn back but he doubted it. Far more likely he’d be condemned to walk into trouble beside her. He snorted. Hell, he’d have to run to keep up with her headlong rush.
He transported quickly back to his quarters, threw a few essentials into a bag, then projected himself as far forward as he dared along the path where Eora had marched off. With luck the UDBC was too busy searching out miscreants to monitor short teleport hops within the outer limits of the inhabited zone.
When he appeared beside her in a silver shimmer, Eora didn’t even have the grace to look surprised. She grinned at him. “What kept you?”
“I had to get supplies. Traveling between inhabited zones on foot is…unprecedented. I don’t think you have any idea how long walking is going to take.” Nieko grumbled.
“I didn’t do this on the spur of the moment,” she replied. “I have a plan.”
Nieko suppressed a shudder. Eora always had a plan. The problem was getting everyone else to go along with it.
* * * * *
The taxi pulled away, leaving Elijah standing staring at the building in front of him. At home, it would be a historical monument. Here in the English city of Salisbury, a warehouse with the date 1650 inscribed on an arch over the door was apparently nothing out of the ordinary. A few modern touches had been added, like plate glass windows and external electric wiring, as if no one particularly cared about destroying the heritage value of the site.
Lije looked at the screen of his phone then back at the number painted on the door. This was the address Hopewood had given him. He touched his thumb to the doorbell but didn’t press it. He still had time to change his mind.
The screech of brakes from across the street caught Lije’s attention. A car, wheels locked, tires squealing, bore down on a pedestrian on the crossing. There was no possibility the man could get out of the way.
“No!” The word roared out from Elijah’s mouth. At the same time the pedestrian flew straight upward out of the way. The car slid past the spot where he’d been. The driver of the car looked around wildly then hit the gas and sped away. The pedestrian floated safely back down to the footpath. He looked at Elijah, his face white and shocked, then he turned one hundred and eighty degrees and scurried back down the street.
Elijah faced the door and rammed his thumb down onto the bell pad. This was why he was here. In the last week, his tenuous control on his abilities had all but disappeared. Sure, just now he’d probably saved the man’s life, but there had been other instances, like the kid on the skateboard, where Elijah’s anger had caused harm.
Fear had driven him call the number on the card he hadn’t been able to throw out.
Hopewood had been patronizing. “You’ve made the right decision. For now, you’re on leave. How long before they sack you?”
Elijah gritted his teeth. The bastard still had him under surveillance. Before he could protest, Hopewood said, “I’m currently in the UK. I’ll book a flight for you and text you the arrangements.” He’d hung up without another word. So here Elijah was, doing what Brian Hopewood wanted because the risk to other people if he didn’t was too great to bear.
A stocky man opened the door. “Come in.” Elijah stepped into a rectangular room. The door slammed shut behind him, leaving him facing a blank wall.
On his left, a panel slid open and Brian Hopewood stepped in. “I regret I have to ask David to conduct a quick search to make sure you’re not carrying any recording devices or weapons. That includes your cell phone.”
The search David conducted was quick but thorough. Elijah submitted but his muscles hardened in anger.
When the man finished patting him down, he stepped back and nodded, Elijah’s phone in his hand.
“Thank you, David,” Hopewood said. “Please come with me, M
r. Denton.”
The office Hopewood showed Elijah into was bigger than Elijah’s entire apartment. The smell of leather and paper permeated the air. Three of the walls were lined with shelves housing hundreds of books, the covers worn and cracked with age.
Hopewood followed Elijah’s gaze “My collection of demonology texts. Many of these volumes are one of a kind, some individually hand printed. I have spent a good part of my life and fortune collecting them.”
“Why demonology?” Elijah eyed Hopewood warily. He didn’t want to set him off on another crazy rant. “Demons don’t exist outside some people’s imaginations.”
“I am fully aware demons are mythological creatures. I acquire the books because they’re beautiful and the topic fascinates me.” His cool demeanor was reassuring. “I imagine some aspect of demonology—the presence of an alien, malevolent species—resonates with my knowledge of the Dvalinn, but I assure you it’s a minor part of what motivates me to collect.”
Hopewood gestured Elijah to a seat, then took his place on the other side of the desk. He opened a drawer and pulled out a laptop computer. Elijah raised his eyebrows. With Hopewood’s resources he’d expected a larger, more high-tech machine.
Tapping a finger on the dark gray case, Hopewood said, “This computer has no modem. The building is shielded from Wi-Fi networks. The only online access is through me.”
He pushed the machine toward Elijah but kept his hand on the cover. “Before we go any further, I’d like to make something clear. While you’re at this facility you are to regard yourself as a soldier, subject to a soldier’s discipline. You will take orders from me or from David.” Hopewood looked past Elijah, his eyes raised to a distant point some way over Lije’s shoulder. “Do you understand?”
He understood all right. The guy was on some kind of power trip. Still as long as he didn’t abuse it, Lije could put up with discipline. After all, his job was run on paramilitary lines. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t experienced before. He gave a short nod of agreement.
Hopewood stood. “The exact details of your mission won’t be revealed to you until you’ve undertaken training and I’m convinced of your commitment to the cause. All the information you need at this point is contained here in a series of files. I’ll leave you to go through them at your leisure, although you’ll have to remain here to do it. Nothing you see on this machine is to be discussed with anyone else. No files are to be copied. Your phone will be returned to you only at the completion of your mission or if you decide to leave us.”