Chasing the Storm

by Aliyah Burke

  “It does.”

  She groaned as he flexed his hips.

  “More.”

  Taylor didn’t argue. She wanted more as well, and if she were completely honest with herself, she didn’t know how long they had with one another, not given how dire this upcoming battle sounded.

  Sitting up, she placed her hands on his chest and rotated her hips. “Yes, more.”

  Chapter Nine

  Cale struggled not to lose his temper as he squared off with Tiarnán in the practice room. Danger Room. Taylor’s term for it came to him and again made him smile.

  “Shit!” he cried, ducking a swipe from Tiarnán.

  The man didn’t let up, his katana barely paused before it was on another attack path.

  “Pay attention.”

  He was, damn it all. “I am.” His arms ached from the clash of metal. Tiarnán was one strong mother fucker.

  “Pay attention to the battle, not thoughts of your woman.”

  It rankled—that the man could read him so well. He’d woken this morning with every intention of making his way to Taylor’s room and spending time in there with her. No clothing and lots of exploration between the two of them. Nothing had gone his way. First Lian had wanted to see him, then he’d had some kids to oversee and now this…this ass-whipping he was being hand-delivered by Tiarnán.

  He sneered. “Don’t be jealous just because you don’t have one and are stuck jacking off at night in your room to find any semblance of relief.”

  Cale didn’t mean the words, they just slipped out. However, that one second flash on Tiarnán’s face was like he’d just took a bullet to the chest. The emotion was there and gone so fast, it could have been imagined.

  “You’ll be doing the same if you don’t concentrate, because your woman will be dead.” Tiarnán moved with a flurry of speed and disarmed Cale, the blade of his katana resting against Cale’s throat. “You spend too much time thinking about her and what you’d rather be doing. You need to focus.”

  “Let’s go again.”

  Tiarnán shook his head, dark hair flying about his face as he stepped back, lowering the weapon and sheathing it with a singular, smooth move. “No. Your mind is not where it should be.”

  “You’re the one who said I had to practise.”

  He strode to the door. “You do. And so do I, but it’s not practise for me if you’re not thinking about what you need to do. Therefore it is a waste of my time.”

  The door closed behind him and Cale stared at it, shaking his head in disbelief. It opened again, this time admitting Taylor. She walked up to him and placed a hand on his arm.

  “I just saw Tiarnán leave, I thought you were practising for a lot longer. Are you hurt?”

  “No, I’m an ass, is what I am.”

  She withdrew her touch from him and he regretted it immediately. “I’m sorry, Taylor. What are you doing here?”

  Her shoulders rose and fell. “I was going to see if I could watch you practise.”

  “Maybe tomorrow, babe. I haven’t been concentrating today.”

  “Is that why he left?”

  His smile was forced. “Yes. Tiarnán doesn’t like to waste time. If we’re not doing it at at least one hundred per cent, he will stop.”

  “Isn’t some practise better than none?”

  “Not if you’re not fully committed to doing it. The enemy won’t come at you half-assed, so why practise that way.” He put an arm around her shoulders. “It’s why he is the best warrior.”

  “Need you in the ops room.”

  “On my way, Dracen.”

  “Who called?” Taylor asked.

  “What?”

  “You did that misty-smoky thing again. Do you have to go?”

  He nodded with understanding. “I do. It was Dracen. Come on.”

  Her smile warmed him. “No thanks. They didn’t ask for me. You go. I’m going to explore.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.” She shooed at him with her hands. “Go. Do your non-mutant, X-Man things.”

  “Woman,” he warned.

  “What?” she sassed with a grin. “I said non-mutant.” Taylor headed off down the hall with a wave over her shoulder.

  Cale didn’t move until she’d vanished from sight. Then and only then did he head off in the opposite direction. Stepping through the sliding doors into the room they had turned into their operations room, he immediately noticed all the women were there. Billy, still being in Scotland, he hadn’t expected, but he had Tiarnán. The man wasn’t present.

  “Where’s Tiarnán?”

  “Practising.” Aminta gave him a knowing smile.

  They all knew he practically lived to fight and at most times could be found with some sort of weapon in his hand, or with their weapons maker, honing one thing or another.

  He glanced around the room again. “With Lian?”

  “Yes.” Roz opened the top on her Coke and took a large drink.

  Cale took his usual chair and rested his arms against the table. “So what’s up?”

  Dracen hit a key and a few photos popped up. He frowned when he recognised the faces there—Jeremy Kenyon and his family. A low growl slipped from his lips.

  “I take it then you know them?” Dracen asked.

  “Remember the ‘family’ I told you was trying to kill Taylor? That’s him. Tiarnán and I just had a run in with them, that’s why I had him bring her to where I was.” He gestured with his chin. “What’s the reason we have pics of them?”

  “They’re New Order.”

  “New Order?”

  “We just got confirmation today.” Aminta slid a file across the smooth top towards him.

  Staring briefly at the small Asian woman—Amerasian, technically—who was his sister and a fellow Guardian, he waited for her to continue. Her straight black hair fell around her sculpted face.

  “We intercepted a few calls from them back to someone named Blake.”

  He shook his head, the name unfamiliar to him. “That’s it, Blake? Nothing more to go on?”

  “We hadn’t heard of him either, so he’s new to The Order or just new on the scene.”

  “Do we have a location on him?”

  “Still working on that part. We thought maybe you could ask Taylor for a bit more information on these guys. Find out what they’re into, where they hang out, things like that.” Roz fiddled with her bottle.

  “Are we worrying about The New Order now?”

  Dracen clicked off the screen and sat. “We’re always worried about them, Cale. We’re just thinking that if we can find our way to someone who’s at the top, or near the top, maybe, just maybe we can have a bit more insight on what those bastards are planning and if they have a timeline they’re working with. Look, we all know that Lian isn’t going to tell us anything more than he can.” She sighed. “I love the man to death, but let’s face it, he’s bound by older rules of what he can and can’t say. Even if he could say, most of what he imparts is in riddle.”

  Cale drummed his fingers on the table. “Why isn’t Tiarnán here for this?”

  “We’ve already talked to him about it.” Dracen leant back and put her booted feet up on the table.

  “So this decision has already been made?”

  “Absolutely not. If you don’t feel talking to Taylor about this, we can go another route.” Roz finished off her Coke and also leant back.

  “So you wouldn’t force this?”

  “Why would we? We’re just trying to figure out a way to get ahead. We all know those of The New Order and those commanding them will break rules. Lian—our link to all this, won’t, he has too much honour for that. We have to find our own ways. She was a thought,” Roz said.

  There were some days he forgot Roz was the youngest woman there. Youngest of the six, in fact. She had a sharp mind and had excelled at school once she’d arrived here. In fact, at twenty, she was one of the youngest attorneys around. No one underestimated
her though, not anymore.

  “I’ll talk to her. Can’t promise anything.”

  “A chance is all we’re looking for,” Dracen stated. “We need some kind of edge or we’re going to be slaughtered before we have a chance to make it to this ‘huge battle’ we have been training for.”

  The anger and concern in her voice worried him. Dracen didn’t show emotion and she didn’t get rattled. At least not until he’d found his artefact—like his was the first and had set off some kind of chain reaction throughout the world. He glanced to his left, where they’d put the gold pendant and chain. The pendant was even more gold now and the symbols had turned black, as if they’d been painted on. Or burned. He wasn’t sure, but it had changed dramatically since the first time he’d seen it. Five empty boxes sat near it for the other pieces they desperately needed to find in order to fulfil the prophecy. More of what concerned not only him, but the others as well.

  * * * *

  Taylor smiled to herself and readjusted on the large chaise as she read further into the book on art history. She loved the subject, and this humongous library Lian had contained so many books on that very thing.

  She reached for her iced tea sitting on a coaster beside her, only to come up empty. She frowned and tipped the book towards her chest and looked. Cale stood there, taller than life, staring down at her. He held her tea.

  “You scared me,” she said lightly. “Done with your meeting?”

  “I am.” He handed over the glass when she beckoned with her fingers. “I see you’ve made yourself at home.”

  “I did. Went to the kitchen and made some tea, properly I might add. Drank two glasses there before filling one and tracking down this room. I’ve been in here reading since.”

  “Proper tea?”

  “Sweet.”

  “So just add sugar to the stuff we have.”

  Her face contorted and she shook her head violently. “That is not proper.” One hand rose and she took several deep breaths. “Anyway. That’s neither here nor there. I have the right kind of tea. How was your thing?”

  His expression sobered. When he lowered himself to the chaise by her feet, she knew it couldn’t be good news. One more sip then she put her glass down on the coaster.

  “We need your help.”

  “Okay. What with?”

  “We need some information you can give, any and all you can depart with.”

  She blinked, waiting for more detail. “Okay,” she drew out. “Information on what?”

  “Jeremy Kenyon and the guys who were with him.”

  Warnings snaked up her spine instantly and she struggled not to give away her fear. “What do you need to know about them?”

  He touched her ankle and began rubbing it. “Anything. Everything. Places they hung out. What they liked doing. All of that.”

  “Can I ask why?”

  “We discovered they’re linked to The New Order.”

  Momentarily speechless, she just sat there, fingers flexing around the edges of the art history book. “My cousins?”

  He nodded. “It explains why they thought the pendant would be worth so much. Whoever hired them to get it over exaggerated its monetary worth.”

  “So…wait…are you saying…?” She gulped and breathed deep a few times. “Are you saying they killed my grandmother to get this thing from her? And when the will gave it to me, they came after me?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know, babe. We can find out if you want. All I know for certain is they are working with men from The New Order and we really need to find out for who, and get as high up the ladder we can.

  Good Lord, she was nauseated. “Sure. I’ll give you what I can. When? Now?”

  “As soon as you’re up to it.”

  She closed the book and swung her feet to the floor. “Don’t know if I will ever be, not knowing they may have purposefully killed her. Let’s get it over with.”

  Taylor replaced the book on the shelf and turned to find Cale there holding her tea. He placed a light kiss along her lips and she gave him a half-smile before taking the tea then heading for the door.

  “Where are we doing this?”

  “The room with all the computers.”

  As they walked along the spotless halls, she did her best to psyche herself up. The mixed emotions that warred within her didn’t make sense. She owed Jeremy no loyalty and yet she felt almost like she was betraying him. The heavy doors slid open before her and they walked in together. Five faces stared back at her.

  Four she recognised and one she didn’t. The women gave her a brief smile while Tiarnán nodded sharply. She took a chair beside the one she knew Cale usually sat in.

  “Thanks for helping us out, Taylor,” Roz spoke from across the table. “I believe you know everyone here.”

  “No,” she glanced down to the one she didn’t recognise. “I don’t know him.”

  “Sorry,” Cale said beside her. “Edmond Stanton, this is Taylor Kenyon. Taylor, Edmond. Our resident computer genius.”

  He smiled at her, his white teeth brilliant against his black skin. “My pleasure, Taylor.”

  Instantly he set her at ease and she found herself returning his grin. “Good to meet you, Edmond.”

  Cale placed his arm along the back of her chair. Taylor wasn’t sure whether it was just because, or if he somehow felt threatened by Edmond. She leant forward, clasped her hands and focused on the man with his fingers hovering over the keyboard.

  “Ready when you are, Taylor,” Edmond said.

  “You have all their names?” When he nodded, she canted her head to the side. “Jeremy liked to hang out at pool bars. He and those with him enjoyed trying to hustle games from newcomers to the bars or clubs. I know one of his favourite places was one called The Rack. According to him, it had it all.”

  “Where was this place?”

  “Near Beaufort, which is on Port Royal Island.”

  “Where did you live?” Cale asked her softly.

  “Charleston.”

  She struggled not to think about how growing up had been. They were here to do something specific and surely she could control her own memories long enough to help them accomplish it. Swallowing some more tea, she waited for the next question.

  That was how it went for the next few hours. She gave them all she could on Jeremy and the men in the pictures beside him. Emotionally drained at the end of it, she walked out at their thanks and headed for her room.

  When she got there, she discovered a tall glass of tea sitting out beside the longue on the balcony. She moved slowly to it and saw the lemon and mint floating in it. Cautiously, she sipped some then moaned in pleasure as the sweet beverage ran down her throat. Sitting on the lounger, she replaced the glass and stared through the railings.

  Grass waved in the warm breeze, the sun shone down and played tag with the few fluffy clouds in the sky. She could hear the horses and the children but didn’t move to see if she could actually lay eyes upon them.

  Even more emotionally tired than before, she allowed her eyes to drift closed. When she opened them again, a blanket covered her and the sun was low in the sky. To her left, a figure lurked in the corner of the balcony. Cale. She would know his body anywhere.

  “Feeling better?” he asked, pushing away and moving towards her.

  “How long have you been there?”

  “About an hour.”

  “Isn’t that stalking?” she teased. “You there, watching me while I’m sleeping?”

  “Maybe.” Cale crouched beside her. “Are you feeling better?”

  No she wasn’t—she still felt extremely betrayed. Not only did her cousins want to kill her, but they had possibly joined with this New Order and had her grandmother killed. She hadn’t been well loved in that house, but her grandmother had been all she had. She’d fed her and had put a roof over her. Not only that, but she’d learned how to act in many situations, even if, again, the love wasn’t there.

  “I suppose so.”


  “Talk to me.”

  “Just frustrated by all of this. I mean, I know I wasn’t supposed to be part of the family and only was because Grandmother refused to let my father get away with his indiscretion and ignore me. I was raised as a woman with wealth and had to fit in with that life. She only gave me the bag a few weeks before she passed. Told me that she was sorry she didn’t give me more, that everyone should do something outrageous, then cleared her throat and walked out of the room.”

  Damn it! She hated the tears that threatened every time she relived this.

  Chapter Ten

  She wrapped her arms around herself and Cale wanted to replace them with his own embrace. He hated she had those emotions swarming in her. The afternoon had been tough on her, he knew that—they all knew that—yet she’d never once complained. There were times she’d even tried to insert some humour, even though he knew it had cost her a great effort to pull it off.

  Deciding he’d had enough, Cale slid his body onto the chaise, half lifting her to settle upon his lap. She didn’t fight him, in fact it was quite the opposite. Taylor tucked her head below his chin and burrowed in closer. Lacing his fingers, he readjusted so she sat between his legs and he had his arms around her, keeping her close and sharing body heat in the cool evening with the breeze going around them. She reached out and drew the blanket over them as well.

  Nose buried in her hair, he too, dozed off. The moon was rising when he woke. Taylor still slept in his embrace and he barely moved, for he had no wish to wake her.

  “We are making headway with the information she gave us, Cale.”

  “I’ll let her know when she wakes up, Aminta, thank you.”

  “We figured she was sleeping or something like that when you missed coming down for dinner.”

  “We fell asleep on her chaise.”

  “Is that what we’re calling it now? Interesting. I thought it had a different name. And I have heard you look hot in nothing but a pink towel.”

  He rolled his eyes at her comments. She had a great sense of humour, remarkable really when she was a one hell of a pilot and used to flying into situations most wouldn’t dream of dealing with. But Aminta hid a side—her humorous one—from all but those she considered family.