Driving Rain: A Rain Chaser Novel

by Sierra Dean

  “Sure.”

  “Can I fly the chopper?”

  “We don’t really call them choppers,” he told her. “And no.”

  The balls on this kid.

  A young redheaded man with a neatly trimmed beard emerged from the main terminal and jogged towards us, lifting his hand in a wave. He had the kind of smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, making me wary of him before he even had a chance to speak.

  He was also carrying a clipboard, which generally meant he thought he was important, and that was usually not the kind of individual I got along with.

  I didn’t respond well to authority.

  “You must be Tallulah,” he declared, holding his hand out to me.

  “I think there might have been other options on the short list, but Tallulah does seem to be what I got stuck with.”

  His hand was limp and vaguely damp in mine, and he held the handshake one beat too long.

  “I’m Teddy.” Of course he was. The name was too perfect not to be his. “And I’ve been assigned by the convention committee to be your liaison for this external public event.” He scribbled a note on the board, and when I craned my neck to see what he’d written, he hugged it against his chest.

  “Sorry, a liaison?” I repeated.

  Teddy nodded like a very enthusiastic puppy. “Yes, this was all cleared in advance with your temple. I spoke with the High Priestess Sidonie.” He pronounced her name Sid-ney, which wasn’t exactly wrong but lacked the appropriate French inflection that Sido used when she introduced herself. His version sounded flat and painfully American.

  “The High Priestess failed to mention to me we needed a babysitter.” My fake polite tone couldn’t make the words sound friendly. Teddy’s smile faltered. I think he’d just realized this might not be as easy as he’d been led to believe.

  That was Sido’s fault if she had convinced him this would be a walk in the park.

  “Don’t think of me as a babysitter. I assure you, my job is to stay out of your way. I’m merely here as a public relations representative. My job is to make sure nothing happens that might reflect badly on the convention or your temple.”

  “What are you worried might happen?” I glanced at Leo, and he looked as confused as I was.

  “Oh, well, we just try to keep things family friendly. No nudity. No lustful displays.” As he spoke, my lip curled up in disgust, and he must have seen it because he smiled apologetically. “Nothing that might offend the sponsors.”

  “I promise I’ll keep my top on.”

  At some point while we’d spoken, Sawyer had twisted the pilot around her little finger, because she was now seated in the helicopter’s cabin, wearing a headset and nodding with rapt attention as he explained what each of the buttons did.

  So much for dampening her from her excitement over life as a cleric. As it was, I think I was doing a better job recruiting than dissuading.

  Who would have thought I might be the ideal person to bring fresh blood into the fold?

  It was too bad Sawyer couldn’t be a Rain Chaser. While I wouldn’t necessarily wish my lifestyle on anyone else, I was starting to believe she might have what it took to live this way. She was tough, obviously, and curious to a fault. She was restless and independent. Whichever temple she belonged to she would be a strong addition.

  But it wouldn’t be for Seth. Not if the little girl on the beach had been. Rain Chasers were uncommon enough I didn’t think it was possible for two to be born so close together.

  “Do you have any particular requirements before we take off?” Teddy asked me, back to jotting things down on his board.

  “Requirements?”

  “Yes, any special food, drinks, music? Any equipment you might need for the display?”

  I was gobsmacked. Was this leprechaun offering to get me whatever my heart desired? Just to do my job?

  Maybe Seth could learn a thing or two from this.

  “Uh. I’d love a burrito? A copy of Led Zeppelin III…and one of the peanut butter milkshakes from that Gordon Ramsay restaurant?” I wasn’t entirely sure what to ask for.

  Teddy nodded, made notes, then tore off the bottom part of his paper and handed it to a young woman who seemed to have materialized out of nowhere. “Very good.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Of course. Your satisfaction is our top priority, Ms. Corentine. If you’re happy, Seth is happy. And naturally we all aim to appease the gods.” He smiled his wax smile again. I briefly wondered if he might be a robot instead of a real person. He was a bit too perfect.

  “All right…”

  “Now, let’s get a move on. Lots to discuss before the big show.”

  In the air en route to the Grand Canyon, Teddy talked and the rest of us listened. The pilot, still unable to resist Sawyer’s boundless charm, had kept her up front with him, and I was pretty sure at least once he let her take control of the steering.

  I based this entirely on her going, “Wheeeeee” periodically and my impending sense of doom that deepened each time.

  I guess I might as well have asked Teddy for a pony, because we were probably all going to die before I got any of it.

  Teddy continued to yammer on, as if totally unconcerned that a girl who couldn’t legally drive was navigating us through the skies. “Now, we’re hoping to get started as close to seven as possible. It’s a really prime time, and we’re likely to get the most viewership at that point. Do you think that will be a problem?”

  “A problem how?”

  “I mean, is this something you can control well enough to do it on a timeline, or should we be ready to start filming as needed? Do you need to warm up at all?”

  The helicopter seemed to drop a couple feet all of a sudden, and I grabbed hold of a strap dangling from the ceiling. Leo looked downright ashen.

  “I could call up some lightning right now if you need proof.” I didn’t mean the words to sound threatening, but considering how pale Teddy got, I guess that was how they came across.

  “No, that’s fine. I trust you’ll be able to execute the program without any issues.”

  “Teddy, you know this isn’t a fireworks display, right? I’m going to be channeling lightning through my body. It’s not special effects.”

  “Of course.” He still sounded a little unsure.

  “Then just trust me when I tell you you don’t need to do any planning. It’s going to be a good show.”

  He set his clipboard on his lap and scratched his auburn beard. “Respectfully, Ms. Corentine, you have your way of pleasing the gods, and I have mine. Mine involves getting ratings so high your temple won’t be able to handle the number of tithe calls they receive. My way will have you on the front page of every newspaper in the Western world tomorrow morning. We do things my way, because my way is what works.”

  “Equal respect, Teddy, but whatever happens out there tonight, I’m the one who makes it happen.”

  Fat chance I was going to let this kid take any credit for my work. I would have to endure agony in order to put on the kind of show I knew Seth wanted. And my pain might be Teddy’s gain, but I could do without the condescending pep talk.

  We stared at each other as the helicopter bumped and jostled its way through the sky. I missed my car more with each passing minute. At least I’d been promised this would be a short trip.

  “Why don’t you just agree to stay out of each other’s way?” Leo suggested. “Teddy, I’m sure you have a ton of stuff to handle that doesn’t involve Tallulah. And I’ll make sure she knows when it’s seven. Okay?”

  Again, Teddy and I stared, but at last I blinked and heaved a big sigh. I was being a baby. “Yeah, fine.”

  Teddy let out a little noise of relief through his nostrils, which the headphones still managed to pick up.

  For someone who spent her whole life doing the bidding of others, I sure didn’t like being told what to do.

  After a brief interlude of glorious silence, the helicopter set down at a landin
g pad, and we were ushered into a waiting car. A young woman who was practically a clone of the one we’d left behind in Vegas was waiting inside with a white paper bag and a souvenir Ramsay BRGR plastic cup with a straw in it, and the unmistakable sound of Led Zeppelin III was playing over the car’s stereo.

  “How did you…?” I couldn’t fathom how they had managed to get everything I’d requested and still beat us here. I gratefully accepted the milkshake anyway.

  I hadn’t had one in a couple years, but as soon as the creamy smoothness of peanut butter burst across my tongue I closed my eyes in a satisfied way. A little sigh escaped my lips, and I settled back into my seat.

  The clock on the dashboard told me it was a few minutes after five. That gave me about two hours to find a good location at the Grand Canyon from where I could still be seen—they had to know it was me doing it and not just a random storm—and where all the bystanders would remain safe.

  Perhaps Teddy might be useful after all.

  “Do you think it would be possible to clear an area around me? Like give me five hundred feet?”

  He didn’t miss a beat. “Of course.”

  The woman who had brought my food handed Teddy a walkie-talkie and slipped a small white microphone over her ear. It made her look like a primly dressed pop star.

  She pulled a plastic case out of her bag and unzipped it, showing a row of a dozen more identical headsets, and held them out like an offering. Sawyer didn’t even wait to be asked. She grabbed hers and put it on, adjusting the fit until she was happy with it.

  Leo took one as well but didn’t immediately wear it.

  To her credit, the woman withdrew the case, zipped it and stowed it away, clearly already aware I would say no.

  I couldn’t have the distraction of a dozen voices buzzing in my ear. This time I wasn’t trying to be rude, it would just be impossible for me to do my job if I had to wear that thing.

  Absently I took my phone out and started scrolling through my notifications. Nothing new from the temple, thank Seth. A few emails, but they could wait until later. And two text messages.

  The first was from Cade: Can’t make it to the show, but I’ll find you when you’re back.

  I felt a pang of regret that he would miss the display, but the second part of his message sent a weird shudder of excitement through me. I’ll find you when you’re back. It was a promise, a threat, an innuendo. It was everything and nothing all at once.

  Yes, please, I typed back.

  The other message made my heart skip another beat, this time not a good one. It was from a number I didn’t recognize, and all it said was:

  See you tonight.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I dropped my phone like it had burned me.

  “We can’t do this. Cancel the show.”

  “What?” Teddy snapped to attention.

  Leo and Sawyer both stared at me like I’d been inhabited by a crazy alien being. “Are you okay?” Leo asked.

  “We can’t do this,” I repeated.

  “You have to do this.” Teddy shuffled forward in his seat. “I think by now you should be well aware that when a god asks you to perform, you don’t say no. You just start dancing and hope they stop you before you die.”

  I blinked at him, momentarily struck dumb by his audacity. Sure, he was absolutely right, but he also wasn’t a cleric. This guy got paid by the convention to make sure I didn’t stumble into bad lighting or swear on national television. He didn’t know the first thing about the sacrifices I made on a day-to-day basis to appease my god.

  Lightning flickered on my fingertips.

  Leo cleared his throat, distracting me long enough that I was able to regain my composure. He had picked up my phone, which had fallen at his feet, and since the message was still open when I’d dropped it, he was able to read it no problem.

  He said nothing, his face showed nothing, and he handed the cell back to me. I couldn’t bring myself to look at those words again, but I didn’t need to reread them to know them by heart already.

  See you tonight.

  Where Cade’s message had been a threat only in a teasing, sexy way, this one felt like a physical slap. It had to be the killer. He knew my phone number, which he’d demonstrated the night before. The last time his number had been blocked, but this time…

  This time I could call it back.

  I fumbled with my phone and hit the Call icon on the text screen. Immediately the line began to ring.

  Everyone else in the car sat in silence, watching as I waited out each interminable trill. It seemed to go on endlessly, until finally a computer voice said, I’m sorry, the number cannot be reached. Please hang up and try your call again.

  I hung up.

  I did not try my call again.

  What had I hoped would happen? I’d call the guy up and say, “Hello serial killer, I got your text message and would like to politely request you do not show up to my well-publicized event tonight and please don’t try to murder me on national television.”

  See you tonight.

  He was telling me who his next target was, and I was the one with a red bull’s-eye on her chest. He wanted me to know he was coming, because in his mind there was nothing I could do to stop him.

  I hated this motherfucker so much.

  Suddenly my fear became anger. An anger so hot it made my jacket feel heavy and oppressive. The interior of the car was too small to contain all of my rage.

  The Grand Canyon was probably too small to contain what I was feeling, but at least it was a good place to start.

  Let him come.

  Let him try to kill me while the strength of a god flowed through my fingers. He might have been able to kill children, but they were the epitome of powerlessness.

  I was not powerless.

  If he came anywhere near me tonight, I would reduce him to a pile of hardened char that would forever mark the walls of the Grand Canyon. He could serve as a reminder to anyone who came after of what happened to disbelieving humans who dared challenge the gods.

  The level of righteousness coursing through my veins in that moment was scary. It was less Come at me, bro and more, I will smite you down and salt and burn the soil from which you came so that no others like you may come after.

  Everyone must have sensed the change in my mood, because the car remained silent until we arrived at our destination.

  This late in the year the sun was already dwindling a little, turning the sky a gorgeous coral pink. Overhead, dark clouds were reflecting the dying light, creating a lush, textured tapestry of pinks and mauves that deepened into fuchsia and aubergine where the clouds were at their darkest.

  It was genuinely stunning, especially as a marquee for what lay beneath it.

  In all my travels, I’d never actually been to the Grand Canyon. I’d been through the state before. I’d seen the postcards and signs for it, but my path rarely brought me in line with the bigger tourist traps. Biggest ball of twine in Minnesota? Yeah, that I’d seen. One of the seven natural wonders of the world? Nope.

  It literally took my breath away.

  Teddy guided us from the car to an overlook, where we could see the canyon stretching out beneath us for miles in either direction. It was impossible to believe something this gorgeous could actually exist, let alone be sitting here waiting for us to see.

  The Ourea had outdone themselves with this one.

  The walls of the canyon were striated with bands of different color, as if the whole place had been constructed out of mismatched Legos rather than one solid rock.

  Below, a river snaked through, looking more like a slim silver line than the raging tumult of water it probably was.

  This place was a drug I wanted to inject straight into my veins. I’d never seen anything like it.

  As the overhead light changed, so did the color of the canyon, giving the impression we were in a living painting that could alter its colors at any given instant. I wondered if the moods of the mountai
n gods impacted the color too, or if they had long since forgotten they’d built something this stunning and never thought of it again.

  How could anyone forget this place?

  My own moods were shifting as fast as an electric storm. I’d gone from fear, to anger, to a buoyant kind of joy all in the span of the last fifteen minutes. It was leaving me drained and queasy. I wasn’t used to feeling quite this much.

  There were days I liked to pretend I didn’t feel anything at all.

  “You’ll be standing over here,” Teddy announced, gesturing to a long platform that extended well over the lip of the canyon.

  My heart gave a stutter. “Is that safe?”

  “For you or for the audience?”

  For the first time I noticed the mass of bodies queued up around the stage area. There were barricades and guards in place to hold anyone rowdy in check. A dozen police cars were in the parking lot, and a huge tactical van as well.

  “Um, for both, I guess?” I was mostly worried about myself at the moment. If crowd control continued to hold people where they were, they would be well outside the danger zone.

  “Perfectly safe. The audience is seven hundred feet back from where you’ll be standing. We measured.”

  “And for me?”

  “The platform has been designed to withstand all types of natural disasters,” he assured me.

  That’s what I was, after all. A natural disaster.

  “Are you sure?” To me it looked like a thin expanse of glass and metal that would break off the second I got to the end. And that was without me hitting it with lightning.

  “It is meant to hold up against earthquakes, wind, rain, and yes, even lightning.” He smirked, and for the first time I thought Teddy might actually be a human and not a productivity cyborg.

  “Okay.”

  I didn’t immediately move towards the platform. Instead I withdrew to the railing and looked at the canyon below. I could make out the small shapes of people moving on horseback a safe distance from where my strikes would land. The horses had the unfortunate effect of reminding me of Macha, though.

  She’d be expecting me to present her with the killer by the time the convention was over. I hoped I’d still be alive to do it.