by Lizzy Ford
She said nothing.
“The quarterly council meeting is tonight. You’ll get to meet all my council members.”
Dread trickled through her.
“You can tell me who the traitors are.”
“Is this what oracles do?” she forced herself to ask.
“Oracles do many things, but this is one of them,” Dustin responded. “It’s unfortunate you don’t have a mentor to show you more about your talents. The ability for you to determine a traitor from a loyalist is one of your most valuable talents. It’s also what makes people hate oracles.”
“People hate oracles?” she repeated, distraught.
“Let me rephrase - people fear oracles. It’s a good thing. The more people fear you, the less they’ll fuck with you.”
She rested her chin on her knees, gazing at Damian.
“You’ll identify the traitors,” Damian continued.
“Then we take them out back and - “ Dustin ran his finger across his throat.
Sofia gripped her throat with one hand.
“You kill them?” she whispered, horrified.
“Bad people,” Damian said. “People who would kill you. People like Czerno. Dusty takes care of these kinds of people.”
“Yep,” Dusty agreed.
She shuddered as the distant sensation of burning returned. If any man deserved death, it was Czerno. But did any man deserve death? And if she told Damian who to kill, did that make her worse than them? Her eyes slid to Dustin as she tried to reconcile the executioner with the man who liked presents. She met Damian’s gaze.
“Ours is not a pretty world, kiri,” he said firmly. “This is what you are.”
It wasn’t the reassurance she hoped for.
Stop Claire, Darian all but demanded.
Their plan made sense, as ugly as it was. Who better to weed out traitors than the one who could see them for what they were?
“I wanted to see if you’re to the point where you don’t need human touch,” he said, gesturing to the pictures.
She shook her head. She leapt up and closed the door behind her, turmoil in her breast. She didn’t belong in the human world anymore, and yet, she couldn’t just dump it. Her thoughts darkened and returned to Toby and Jake.
No, she could never become as cold and accepting of death as the men around her, even if they were at war with a monster like Czerno.
But it’s my fate.
Damian’s gaze lingered on the door after the oracle fled. Something more than Dusty killing bad guys was upsetting her.
“Wanna visit the sector?” he asked, turning his attention to Dusty. “I’ll show you what Rainy’s guys found.”
“Yeah.”
He held out his hand, and Dusty clasped his wrist, allowing him to transport them both to Tucson Sector HQ. They appeared in the quiet living room, turning at the startled gasp.
Rainy’s Natural, a beautiful woman with mocha skin and blue eyes, leapt up from her seat.
“No worries, Traci,” Damian said, seeing her panicked look. She’d been there for about two months, not yet enough time to acclimate to the Guardians.
“Rainy around?” Dusty asked.
Traci’s eyes were on Damian. A human’s reaction to him never ceased to intrigue him. It was irritating, most of the time, like now when he wanted to get a quick response out of one.
“Traci,” Dusty said more sharply.
She looked to him and blinked.
“He’s sleeping,” she said at last.
“You wanna wake him up or you want us to?” Damian asked in amusement.
She hesitated only a moment longer before bolting and disappearing up a set of stairs.
“Can’t take you anywhere, D,” Dusty complained.
“Like you’re normal,” he replied.
“Who decorated this place?” the groused, taking in the lopsided posters of cars and beer bottle décor.
“You’re such a woman, Dusty,” Damian said with a chuckle.
“Speaking of women … “ his BFF said, pinning him with a look. “What’s up with your oracle? She didn’t seem happy today.”
“Damned if I know. She walked in on me and Claire last night.”
“I bet that went well.”
“Nothing, and they’re both pissed at me. You didn’t tell me Claire was coming this way, bro..”
“Bro, I didn’t know. You can blame Jule for that one. Is Sofia doing any oracling yet?”
“She’s learning. Han says she’s progressing pretty quickly, though since none of us know how to train her, it’s hard to tell. She’s trying,” he said. “We’ll find out what she can do when our guests arrive.”
“Ikir, boss,” Rainy greeted them as he trotted down the stairs, dressed in jeans and nothing else. “You scared the shit outta Traci.”
Damian caught his eye and looked pointedly at Dusty. Rainy smiled faintly with a nod.
“What’d you find?” Dusty asked, oblivious to the exchange.
“Traci found several of the vamps’ stash houses here in Tucson,” Rainy said, motioning them to follow him into a small, dark study humming with electronics.
He sat down in front of a computer and pulled up a satellite image with the stash houses marked.
“This is what’s interesting,” he said, pointing to a trail leading from a stash house on the northeastern side of the city and dead ending in the desert. “She can’t pick up anything past this point.”
He drew a box around a large area.
“Only you and Czerno can put up one of those types of shields,” Dusty muttered.
“And it’s not mine,” Damian responded. “Any intercepts on why he’s in town?”
“The local intel team is having a problem tracking his vamps. We think they’re using disposable cells. As soon as we get a number, it goes inop.”
“But we know he’s here,” Dusty said.
“Yeah, pretty sure. This square is ten square miles, though. Unless we know where to look, we won’t find where his base is.”
“It can’t be a coincidence he’s here, a few miles from you,” Dusty said, turning to him.
Damian nodded. He suspected Czerno’s Watcher allies tipped him off.
“The vamps we’ve captured for interrogation have a new technique. They’ve been killing themselves with cyanide pills,” Rainy added.
“What happened in Europe is happening here,” Damian said, meeting Dusty’s gaze. “Antoine probably wasn’t the main threat in Europe.”
Dusty studied him, an odd look crossing his face. Damian waited expectantly, but he shook his head.
“It’s probably nothing,” Dusty said. “I’ll check the records to see which Guardians
rotated here from Europe from the past year.”
“After the Quarterly, we’ll pack up and clean up,” Damian said. “Hopefully, Sofi can tell us who’s on Czerno’s payroll.”
“I hope so,” Dusty replied. “Rainy, can your Natural trace anything at all within the square?”
“Nope, though I’ve only let her past the barrier once. Not sure what traps Czerno might have set.”
Dusty gave Damian a cool look, and he heard the unspoken warning about women being the downfall of mankind. He smiled.
“Send the UAV’s over the area,” Dusty said. “We’ll see what we can see.”
“Got it,” Rainy said, turning to face them. “I need more people, boss, or a transporter at least.”
“I’ve got several incoming,” Dusty replied. “Damian, transporters?”
“None have survived recruitment,” he said grimly. “We had three in the last class, more than we’ve seen in a few hundred years. All three were gunned down. Jule’s short, too. We can pull in a Natural from Latin America. He’s the closest.”
“Hector?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll contact his station chief,” Dusty said, pulling out his phone. “Whoever is taking out the recruits knows who to hit first.”
“They do inde
ed,” he agreed.
“Call me if you need a transporter in the meantime,” Dusty directed. “I’ll make myself available.”
“Thanks, boss,” Rainy said. “You have a new Natural, ikir?”
“I do.”
“If she’s flipping out, you can call Lon’s wife. Traci hasn’t adjusted yet, and Linda’s been a big help.”
“Linda’s the talker, right?” Dusty asked, glancing up from his phone.
“Yeah. Good girl.”
He’d been considering how to help Sofia adjust. She seemed a solitary person, but he wondered if she’d benefit from meeting the Natural women in the organization. She’d been stuck in the mansion since he’d found her, mainly because he wasn’t about to let a fucking oracle – the first in a few hundred thousand years! – out of the safest place he could put her. His gaze returned to the screen as he deliberated over how close Czerno was and shelved the thought of letting her out of his sight.
“I’ll keep it in mind,” he said.
“Jasmine’s pissed, but Hector will be in this weekend,” Dusty said.
“Awesome, boss.”
“Dust-man, we’ve got a Quarterly to prep for,” Damian said.
“Let’s go,” Dusty agreed. “Rainy, thanks. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Roger, boss.”
Damian’s attention lingered on the image on Rainy’s screen. He couldn’t help the sense of unease sliding through him. He didn’t like the new level Czerno was taking their battle to. The playing field was as uneven as the Watcher had warned, and it appeared as though Czerno’s Watchers weren’t as dedicated to non-interference as his Watcher was.
At least he’d know who the traitors were by the end of the night.
CHAPTER NINE
Sonoran desert, Arizona
The Black God’s southwest base camp
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
Two dropped his arms to his side.
“Water,” he said.
“Slaves don’t drink the master’s water.”
He felt the stinging blow at the back of his head and wobbled, dropping to his knees. One of his master’s men - the ones with the red eyes - shoved him away and took his canteen, dumping its contents.
“Get the fuck outta here!”
He threw the canteen, and it hit Two’s cheek. Two took his canteen and rose. He moved mechanically out of the kitchen a few hundred feet below ground. He went back to his small room and sat on the bed staring at the white wall in front of him.
“Two, what’re you doing?”
He didn’t remember when this man had arrived or why he was supposed to remember him. But he knew he must remember him as he did his master. He concluded he was his master’s friend, or he wouldn’t be here. His master’s friend, the man with eyes as green as the moss in the corner of Two’s room, stood in his doorway.
“I’m thinking, master.”
“Thinking?”
His master’s friend was powerful. Two sensed it and cringed as he entered the room. His master’s friend had never hit him, but he scared Two.
“Slaves don’t think, Two,” his master’s friend said. “What are you thinking?”
“I see a woman in my head,” Two said.
“A woman? What woman?”
“I don’t know her.”
“What does she look like?”
Kiri. He didn’t know where the word came from or what it meant. It sounded pretty, like the poof the desert dust made when the first drops of rain fell. The last time he went to the surface, it had rained huge raindrops. Then a rainbow had come out, and he’d stared at it until his master beat him.
“Slave, what does she look like?”
There was an impatient note in his master’s friend’s voice that scared him.
“Who, master?” he asked.
“The woman.”
“What woman?”
“The woman in your head.”
Kiri.
A strange voice spoke the word again, and he saw the woman with blue and silver eyes. She was crying, because his master was going to hurt her.
Don’t cry, kiri, he thought.
“Did you remember to do as I told you? Did you stop drinking the juice your master gave you?”
He looked up, surprised to see his master’s friend in his doorway, the man with eyes the color of the moss in the corner of his room. He rose in respect.
“Yes, master.”
“Good boy. You must do as I tell you,” his master’s friend said. “It’s very important you don’t drink that juice ever again. Don’t forget.”
“Yes, master.”
“Come. Your master calls for you.”
Two obeyed. He followed the man with eyes as green as the moss in the corner of his room down the busy hallways, unaffected by the men who spit on him or shoved him as he went. Slaves were treated this way.
He’d had a dream last night, something he never remembered in the morning, except for this time. He thought hard. There were many people in his dream, and he thought he should remember them. He heard the strange voice again.
Kiri.
The woman came from his dream! She was talking to him. He didn’t know what she said, but she was holding out a hand to him, crying. Uneasiness swept over him.
He didn’t want her to cry.
Don’t cry, kiri.
But she kept crying.
“Two, coffee,” his master said.
Two obeyed and left the room filled with lights and computers. The man with green eyes was waiting for him in the hall and touched his arm. Two cringed away. When he let him go, he saw the woman more clearly.
He went to the kitchen. The woman stayed with him. Two wondered if she’d ever come out of his head, or if she had to stay there, like he stayed in his master’s corner. If she stayed in his head, his master wouldn’t beat her like he did him.
Stay there, kiri. I’ll take care of you.
“Are you hungry?”
Sofia jerked from her place beside her window, not sure which voice came from her head and which from the handsome man before her. She’d watched the arriving guests with a mixture of fascination and dread. They wore tuxedos and ball gowns like wealthy celebrities attending an exclusive Hollywood party. Beautiful women that rivaled Claire and men so handsome, even age couldn’t diminish their muscular bodies or riveting looks.
“You’re not dressed.”
Damian was in a white shirt and snug tuxedo pants that outlined long, thick thighs and a tight ass. His body drew her, and his scent surrounded her when he knelt beside her.
She wanted to tell him about Claire, but she was afraid to. He cared for Claire, or at least, he was attracted to her, and she didn’t know if there was more than what she knew about them.
He held out his wrist, and she grudgingly took it, drinking from him while smelling the scents of the feast being prepared for his guests.
It’s not fair.
The taste of him filled her, calmed her. She let her head drop back and sighed.
“You should get dressed, Sofia.”
He wiped the corner of her mouth, and she resisted the urge to nip his finger. His warm lips met hers, and she opened her eyes, surprised. He kissed her gently, a long, slow kiss. She savored the sensations of his hot, wet mouth and the buzz she got feeding from him.
“Come, meet your people.”
She watched him retreat, desire burning within her. Pierre had brought in a dress and shoe box earlier. She flipped on the light and opened it. Inside was the most beautiful gown she’d ever seen in a mysterious shade of dark blue sprinkled with silver sequins. The dress was thick silk and moved like water as she pulled it free and held it against her.
It must have cost a fortune!
She picked up the box to toss it on the chair when something slid out. She opened the slender jewelry box and gasped. Inside sparkled a diamond choker with an unusually worn, plain charm of a half-sun, half-moon pierced by an arrow. Diamond ear
rings completed the set.
If the dress didn’t break him, the jewelry did! Sofia lifted the choker carefully, touching the charm.
“What are you, little friend?” she murmured. It must have been significant to be surrounded by so many diamonds!
She marveled over the clothing and jewelry before changing. She pulled her hair into a simple French twist, the kind she wore to work, and applied her make-up carefully.
Her irises were half silver. Sofia gazed at her two-toned eyes. They sparkled like the blue dress and diamonds. She looked herself over, satisfied that she looked good. Not Claire-good, but good enough.
Pierre greeted her with an approving smile that buoyed her.
“His colors and his symbol.”
“Is that what this is?” she asked, fingering the charm.
“It’s old, maybe as old as him. His family’s coat of arms, if they had those then. Very special. Even he does not wear it.”
She trailed him down the stairs, eyes on the guests milling in the courtyard beyond the opened double doors. Damian and Dustin appeared deep in discussion as she approached. Both wore tuxedos with matching blue cummerbunds, which amused her for such starkly different men. Claire, stunning in maroon and bedecked with diamonds and rubies, looked her over dismissively before returning her gaze to the men.
“Ikira,” Dustin said, breaking away. His blue gaze swept over her. “You look lovely.”
She eyed him then looked to Damian, who stared at her with an intensity she’d last seen aimed at Claire.
I am so hot.
Sofia almost laughed at herself. She lowered her gaze at the heated look from the man who drove her crazy every other minute of her day. She cleared her throat and focused on Dustin.
“You guys match,” she observed.
“Only because of my efforts,” he said with an edge that warned her not to laugh.
He’s sensitive about that shit, like a woman, Damian whispered into her mind. She coughed to cover her startled laugh. Dustin looked at her then tossed a look over his shoulder at Damian before directing her away.
“Dick,” he said under his breath. “Come, Ikira. The guests must be greeted.”
Her cheer faded. He motioned her towards the entrance to the courtyard.