by Linda Howard
As soon as they stepped into the shelter of the trees, the shade made them feel cooler, and even the sound of the waves was muted. Musing, Lenna looked around, marveling at the massive differences between here and Atlanta. Some corners of this world were crowded, humans upon humans, nowhere to turn without running into one another. There was a lot of noise, thanks to vehicles and thousands of voices and an abundance of technology. Here, the land remained primal and all but deserted. She had the sense that the three of them were alone, surrounded by the mighty ocean that both isolated and protected. The quiet was deep and complete, until an animal of some sort that was deep in the jungle tittered and another answered. She liked it. She liked it all.
The jungle closed about them, but in a remarkably short time they suddenly stepped into a clearing. A rambling and weathered house sat in the middle of the clearing. A path made of stone and crushed shell led to a wide porch that ran the length of the house. All the windows were open; white curtains danced in the breeze, moving in and out. Any kind of structure should look out of place here, but this one, with the silvery weathered wood, suited the setting. It was civilized, but not completely; comfortable, but not luxurious.
The front door opened and a man holding a shotgun walked onto the porch. Alarmed, she reached for Elijah to pull him behind her, but as soon as the man got a good look at Caine, he began grinning and propped the shotgun against the side of the house.
“Chantel!” he called in a deep voice. “Come on out! It’s Caine.” The man limped across the porch and down the steps. There was a squeal from inside the house, and in just a few seconds a large, pretty woman wearing a brightly colored loosely fitting dress came running through the open door.
She and the man were both middle-aged, or what Lenna would call middle-aged for the residents of Seven. They were in their late forties, she supposed. Their faces were tanned and lightly wrinkled. The man’s hair was salt-and-pepper gray, the woman’s a vivid, unnatural red. They were dressed casually in loose and colorful clothing, a far better choice for the climate than what their visitors were currently wearing.
The man reached Caine and they exchanged a hearty handshake, both of them smiling. Chantel worked her way around her male companion—husband or boyfriend, Lenna assumed—and gave Caine a hug.
Both of them gave off an air of sturdy competency, as well as kindness, the shotgun notwithstanding. An island … Caine was right; Elijah was completely safe from Uncle Bobby here. There was no way he could be found.
Elijah pressed close to Caine’s legs as he surveyed his surroundings, and the strangers who lived here, with some caution. Instead of dancing around in delight and asking to be taught magic, as he had been moments earlier, he had withdrawn in the presence of these strangers.
Poor child, she thought. If he’d been any older, the things he’d seen in the past two days likely would have made him question his sanity, and that was leaving out the trauma of seeing his mother murdered. Instead, he accepted the impossible things he had seen, designating it all “magic.” To a child who spent so much of his time immersed in the worship of fictional superheroes, magic was not such a stretch.
Caine reached out and drew her closer to his side. “Lenna, this is my good friend Wiley and his wife, Chantel.”
She made the appropriate human response. “Nice to meet you.”
Caine placed a hand on Elijah’s head. “And this is Elijah. I thought maybe he’d like to do some fishing, and what better place than this?”
Wiley grinned, his faintly homely face lighting up. He didn’t ask a single question about who the child was, or who Lenna was, or why Caine had shown up out of the blue. “Fantastic.” He dropped down so he could look Elijah in the eye. “Son, have you been fishing before?”
Elijah shook his head, his big brown eyes still full of wariness.
“Well, have I got a treat for you! I was just about to head out in my boat and see if I could catch some sea bass or maybe some snapper. Chantel cooks up a mean fish fry, and my mouth has been watering all day just thinking about it.”
“I certainly do,” Chantel said, somehow dislodging Elijah from Caine without being in any way obvious about it, simply replacing Caine with her own body. She draped her arm around Elijah’s shoulders, and Wiley bracketed him on the other side. “I made a fresh coconut cake this morning, and when I say fresh, I mean fresh. Do you like coconut cake?”
“Yeah!” Elijah said enthusiastically, the lure of cake pulling him out of his instinctive withdrawal.
“Well, come on, and I’ll cut you a great big slice of it.”
As they walked toward the house, Elijah between Wiley and Chantel, Lenna reached out and caught Caine’s arm. When the others were a few yards away, she whispered, “Do you truly trust them enough to leave Elijah in their care?”
“I do.” His black eyes glittered down at her.
“You don’t just want to be rid of him?”
“I wouldn’t risk his safety,” he said shortly, and she saw how her question had annoyed him. He could just deal with his annoyance, because protecting Elijah was her mission just as she was Caine’s.
“How long have you known them? Do they know what you are?”
“A long time, and yes,” he said shortly.
She should have stayed connected to him longer; she should have reached deeper. She hadn’t seen Wiley and Chantel. There was still so much about him she didn’t know, which meant she needed some wariness herself. “I thought the humans of Seven had to be kept in the dark about our existence.”
Caine shrugged. “Who says Wiley and Chantel are humans of Seven?”
Lenna shouldn’t have been shocked, but she was. There were many worlds, and the beings who populated them had all been created in the same image. There were many differences beyond appearance, of course, in abilities and length of life, some much shorter, some much longer.
She opened her mouth to ask a flood of questions, but Caine seized her, his big hands biting into her waist. “We don’t have time for this,” he snapped. “Read me. Concentrate on my memories of them.”
A little shocked by the directive, Lenna threw an apprehensive look toward the house. She had read beings before without any drama, but reading Caine was different. Somehow, with him, it was an act so intimate it was almost like sex, and she was hesitant to do it where others could see. Still, there was no way she would refuse such an opportunity. Turning so that his back was to the house she pressed close to him, clasped her hands on his head, and let her head rest on his chest. She didn’t have to do it exactly that way, but she liked the feel of him under her hands, liked hearing his heartbeat.
The connection was immediate, and as powerful as if they were lying intimately connected. But she wasn’t here to get a thrill—she was here for information—so she blocked that and instead concentrated on Wiley and Chantel. Finding those memories was ridiculously easy, so he must have brought them to the forefront for her to access.
Wiley and Chantel were from Two, a world that no longer existed. Both were nearing two hundred years old, though she couldn’t tell how those years were measured. Wiley had saved Caine’s life in the waning days of the final war on Two. Lenna had a confused impression of a shouted warning, an expert shot, then shelter to rest and heal. Finally, as fire had consumed that once-beautiful world, Caine had transported out. On that occasion, he hadn’t traveled alone. He had brought them to Seven; then, when the teeming humanity put too much stress on Chantel, he’d found this island for them and brought them here.
They lived their lives isolated on this island so they wouldn’t have to constantly move before friends and neighbors began questioning their longevity. The modern age made even that much more difficult, with birth certificates and identity cards, computers. Living alone suited them. Besides, Chantel was so sensitive to the moods and emotions of others, living among humans was extremely stressful for her. Like many who came from her world, she was a powerful empath; that was how she had so swiftly re
alized how to ease Elijah’s wariness and fears.
“That’s enough.” Somehow Caine sensed how much she had seen, and broke their connection.
“Yes,” she said calmly. “It is.” That calmness cost her, but she refused to let anyone see how rattled she was—not from what he had shown her in just a few seconds, but at how being so connected to him aroused her.
Together they walked on to the house and climbed the steps to the porch. They entered a large open space, with the kitchen on the left, a trestle table in the middle, and a seating area off to the right. The interior was bright with sunshine, and cool from the breeze blowing through all the open windows. A ceiling fan turned lazily over the table, where Elijah sat shoveling big bites of coconut cake into his mouth. “It’s good!” he said to Caine and Lenna, and returned to eating as if he were starving to death.
She knew they could stay only a short time, that Caine wanted to leave immediately, but Lenna wanted to be certain Elijah was going to be well cared for. She sat at the table and chatted with Chantel, watching as Elijah swiftly became comfortable with the couple. Odd, how attached she was to this child she had only known for a couple of days. It was reassuring that she could almost see Chantel also becoming attached. Obviously she’d picked up on Elijah’s distress and was touched by it. No matter the species, women always wanted to heal those who were broken.
After finishing his cake, Elijah began peppering Wiley with questions about fishing. He was excited about it, and no wonder. He needed an escape, an activity to take his mind off the tragedy that had set these events into motion, and this place and these people provided it. From fishing he segued to the jungle, and the animals they’d heard, and why Wiley limped. Nothing was off-limits to a seven-year-old.
And then the subject changed. “Do you know magic, too, like Caine and Lenna?” Elijah asked, almost breathless.
Wiley gave a conspiratorial wink, and a slow grin. “I do.”
“Will you teach me something?” Elijah whispered, but it wasn’t low enough to hide his words from anyone. “They think I’m too young.”
“Grown-ups, eh?” Wiley whispered in answer. “What a downer. When they’re gone I’ll teach you—”
“Wiley!” Chantel snapped, looking alarmed.
“Just a simple trick or two,” he finished, slanting a guilty look at his wife, then reaching behind Elijah’s ear and pulling out a quarter.
But Elijah wasn’t deflected. He’d caught that word—gone—and he whirled on Lenna, magic tricks forgotten. “Gone? Where are you going? Are you leaving me here?” His eyes widened and his face paled. “Are you coming back?”
Chantel placed a hand over her heart, her eyes shining as tears welled. She felt every nuance of Elijah’s distress, and would shed his tears for him.
Lenna sat down and beckoned Elijah to her. He darted into her arms, and crawled into her lap. She wrapped her arms around him, began gently rocking. “Caine and I have things to do,” she said. “Important things that wouldn’t be safe for you. We want you to be safe, and Wiley and Chantel will take care of you for us, until we—”
“Are you going to catch Uncle Bobby?”
“We’re going to try,” Caine said. He was right at her shoulder, close, always close, because they had no choice.
“No! I don’t want you to leave.” Elijah’s breathing changed; he was near panic.
She couldn’t leave him in this state; she didn’t want to read him, but perhaps she could impart some of her strength to him. Gently she laid her hand on his face, her fingertips touching his temple. “Be strong,” she whispered. “Be brave.”
She held her breath, because she had never tried such before. To her amazement, she could immediately feel Elijah calming down. Her words, and her touch, had reached him. Elijah understood.
He leaned his head against her shoulder. “Uncle Bobby can’t find me here, can he?”
“No, he can’t,” Lenna said fiercely.
“And you and Caine are going to make sure he goes to jail or … or something.”
Or something, more likely, given that Caine was involved. And as far as Lenna was concerned, the sooner, the better.
“Yes,” Lenna said. “Until we get the job done, you’ll be safe here. You’ll fish, play, learn magic tricks, and go swimming in that beautiful water.”
He took a deep breath and nodded once, decisively. “Okay. Swear you’ll come back for me.”
“I swear,” Lenna said.
Elijah looked up at Caine, his dark eyes wide. “You, too. Swear.”
Caine put his hand on Elijah’s chest. “Hunter to Hunter, I so swear.”
Chapter 13
“What did you do to Elijah?” Caine asked.
Lenna glanced up at him. His face was half in shadow, sharp and handsome and determined, always determined, though he was beginning to show some fatigue from teleporting her and Elijah so often, as well as constantly maintaining a shield to keep her hidden. The Hunters had incredible strength, but the effort he’d been putting out was also incredible. At some point, he would need time to rest, though she didn’t know if he truly could and still keep her shielded.
“I gave him strength,” she said simply. “It’s what I do.”
“You touched him.”
Why did that simple statement sound like an accusation?
“I didn’t know if I could affect him otherwise. It was … a reverse reading, so to speak. Normally I just am, but he needed a boost.” She wouldn’t have left Elijah behind if he’d been frantic at the idea of being separated from them, but she didn’t tell Caine that. Yes, he was safe with Caine’s friends. Yes, it was for the best that they remove him from the physical danger he might face if he remained here. And still, she wouldn’t have caused him more trauma by abandoning him.
They stood in the wooded area behind Elijah’s house, just beyond the tree line. Snow hadn’t fallen for hours, but the day remained cold, and snow and ice still stuck to the ground and on the roofs of the houses. There were many footprints visible now; the snow wasn’t nearly as pretty as it had been when it had been newly fallen.
A lot had happened since she’d stood on almost exactly this same ground a day earlier. Night was falling. The sun would soon set; the day was almost done. One more precious day in this world, gone.
The thought had been that they’d search Elijah’s house, looking for photos or any other clue they could find, but that wouldn’t be happening right away.
Red and blue lights flashed from the road on the other side of the house, reflecting on the snow and on the houses lining the street. Obviously Elijah’s mother’s body had been found, and identified.
Anxiously Lenna wondered exactly what was happening. Were the authorities searching the house? Yes, of course they were; if they had identified Elijah’s mother, then they would know about Elijah, know he was missing. They would be scouring the house, looking for clues to what had happened. Had they found the Moon card? She thought about it, and her anxiety eased. Even if they had, it would mean nothing to them. A single card—even the entire deck, if it were there—could have nothing to do with the murder of the woman who had lived in that house. Their focus was on the victim, and the missing child.
Caine nodded in the direction of the house. “Is the deck in there?”
Lenna sighed. Telling him that much wouldn’t change anything. “Not really.”
Caine looked down at her, a scowl pulling his brows together. “Not really? I asked a yes or no question. I would like a yes or no answer.”
His tone annoyed her, but there wasn’t any reason not to tell him the truth—part of it, anyway. “I hid one card in Elijah’s room.”
Caine tensed. They were so close she felt the change in him. “Is the Alexandria Deck scattered about like a handful of bird seed?”
She ignored the testiness in his voice, recognizing that she hadn’t made this job easy for him—not that it was her purpose to make things easy for him or anyone else. Her reason for being w
as to stand strong even in the face of the worst adversity. “I didn’t think it would be wise to leave the deck intact. It’s too powerful.” And too many desired to possess it. She’d acted out of instinct, but Veton had immediately proven her right. “The majority of the deck is …” She hesitated, wondered how much she could tell. “The rest of the deck is where I found it.” Where Elijah had found it, more rightly. “I hid two cards. Just to be safe.”
“One is in Elijah’s room. Where is the second hidden card?” he asked.
“I’ll tell you when the time is right.”
She could see the muscles in his jaw flexing as he ground his teeth. If he hadn’t liked her first answer, that one had enraged him. He knew better than to try browbeating her, though; she was Strength, and she was more likely to bring the world down around his ears than she was to capitulate. After several seconds he said in a carefully controlled voice, “We have three days before you must be returned. The deck is necessary for your transport. I’d feel better if it was in my hands.”
“Of course you would!” Lenna snapped, her own temper fraying. They’d been over this ground before, and nothing had changed. “That way you could take me home immediately, as you’ve been instructed.”
He didn’t deny it. She respected him for that, for not trying to trick her. He was silent as he returned to studying the house and the beehive of activity around it. Then he asked, in a lowered voice, “Why five days? What’s the significance?”
The change of subject caught Lenna by surprise, but she was glad of it. They would never agree about some things, including when she was to be returned to her place.
“I don’t know,” she admitted, a little surprised to realize that was true. Why was it five days? “That’s how it’s always been. The Major Arcana are too powerful to have complete freedom. We are immortal, we possess great powers, we influence the beings of other worlds, even from afar.” Even as she explained, she realized that those reasons still didn’t answer the significance of the specific number of allowed days. She also realized that she didn’t like the restriction at all. The thought of not being able to interact with other worlds, other beings, filled her with sadness. Her attachment to Elijah, her attraction to Caine—they were new to her. They were … unexpectedly important. How was she to properly assist the humans of Seven, the Hunters, the beings like Wiley and Chantel, if she didn’t fully understand them? The Major Arcana shouldn’t be isolated on Aeonia, observing but never experiencing.