The Lost (Sin Hunters)
Page 21
She had no doubt about the identity of the man beside the woman. He had Adam’s sandy-colored hair and verdant gaze. Deep slashes on either side of his face hinted at the dimples that might emerge if he should ever smile.
She also had no doubt about the identity of the two men to his right: their assailants from the parking lot. One still bore the remnants of swelling and bruises from her cane. You had to pick your battles, and she knew she was no physical match for the four able-bodied and super-powered people before her. She lowered her hands and quipped, “I guess you’re not here to talk.”
Selina was intrigued by the young woman her son seemed to fancy, and not just because of Kikin’s interest. The woman’s aura was not what she had expected. It wasn’t Light or Shadow energy, but despite that she could sense Kikin’s force swirling all around her.
While they had been standing there, the woman’s blue aura had darkened to maroon, hinting at the emotions she was hiding beneath her unyielding façade. The woman was well-versed in guarding any weakness and clearly had been trained in the martial arts. She would never reveal her feelings or weaknesses, and she would not back down in a fight. All qualities Selina would have appreciated in a mate for her son, had he not been promised at birth to another.
“Well? Are you going to stand there all night staring?” the young woman said, yanking a chuckle from Selina.
Andres and Eduardo took a step toward the woman to teach her some respect, but Selina shot her arm up to block their path.
“Quinchu?” Andres questioned, surprise evident on his normally stoic face.
“Leave us,” she commanded her captain and his second in command.
“She is a Shadow—” Eduardo began, but Kellen silenced him with a sharp jab of his hand and confirmed her instruction.
“Leave us. Go wait outside.”
With starkly rigid salutes, the two men left them, prompting yet another saucy comment from the woman.
“I guess you don’t mind getting your hands dirty,” she said, and assumed her fighting stance again, as if deciding that two against one provided her with possibly winning odds.
“Give me your hands,” Selina said, and stepped toward the woman, a mistake. But not on her part.
Bobbie jabbed at Selina, who immediately seized her hand and sent a blast of mind-numbing electricity through Bobbie’s body. Her knees gave way and she dropped to the floor, but Selina didn’t release her hold, although she tempered the strength of the charge.
Bobbie glanced up at her, biting her lip to keep from pleading for freedom. The expression on her face sent a clear message: She would never surrender and leave these people free to possibly hurt Adam.
The woman’s topaz gaze blazed with irritation as she leaned close. With a disdainful sniff, she glanced over her shoulder at her companion and said, “She’s not a Shadow. She’s a hybrid.”
The man grunted and stepped toward them. Selina released her hold on Bobbie, who fell back onto her haunches, her body vibrating in reaction to the jolt of power.
“What do you want?” she said, her voice tremulous as she tried to regain control of her muscles.
“We want our son. We want Kikin,” Selina said, and stepped back toward her husband, who protectively placed his arm around her shoulders.
“If you want him so badly, why did you abandon him?” Bobbie challenged. “Why show up now and go to such lengths to get him after twenty years of absence?”
Her words struck a raw nerve with Selina, who flinched. In a voice that was decidedly unsteadier than when she had commanded the two men, the woman said, “We didn’t abandon him. He was taken from us.”
“Taken? How was he—”
“We were attacked by the Shadows at our desert home,” the man said, offering a comforting squeeze at the woman’s shoulder before pulling her close to offer greater support.
“What’s a Shadow?”
Adam’s parents shared a glance and then his mother said, “Maybe it would be best if we sat down for this discussion?”
Tottering as she came to her feet, Bobbie jumped when the man surged forward to assist her, his touch gentle. With his aid and that of Adam’s mother as she came around to slip her arm through Bobbie’s, they half-carried her to the kitchen table, where they helped her to a chair.
“It’s a long story,” Selina said, and clasped her hands before her on the oak surface.
Leaning back in her chair, Bobbie said, “I’m not going anywhere.”
Selina’s voice went from cool-as-steel to honey smooth and soothing as she wove the tale of a different people, whose future had irrevocably knitted together with that of the humans around them.
“Millennia ago my people would rise to the sun and honor its gift of life. In time our leaders realized that there were some amongst us who could harness that gift. Gather it within us,” Selina said, and mimicked that embrace, her arms fluid and elegant. Normally Bobbie would have wanted to rush her along, forcing her to get to the point, but there was something almost mesmerizing about her motions and the cadence of her voice.
“Our leaders identified those who could harvest the energy. They came to be known as the Quinchu, since they could sip energy from the sun like hummingbirds taking nectar from flowers. They were tutored and joined with others to enhance that gift and became our priests and priestesses.”
“Genetically breeding those with desirable traits,” Bobbie added, her tone a trifle harsh, earning an immediate rebuke from Adam’s father.
“Has not man hybridized animals and plants for centuries to bring out the best of them?” Kellen challenged, a dangerous glitter in his emerald gaze.
Selina laid a hand on his, and a slight orangey glow arose at the contact, seemingly soothing him.
“In time the Quinchu learned not only to use our Mother Sun’s gift, but to hunt for other energies from the cosmos and the living things around us,” Selina continued, as if she had never been interrupted, her voice once again calming and inviting.
“If you have such wonderful powers, why are there so few of you?” Bobbie wondered aloud.
“At one time there were many more of us and our people prospered for millennia. We were isolated high in the Andes, close to Mother Sun, and away from the humans down below. In time, some of our people left to explore and find out more about the humans.”
“Which explains people like me, I guess. Hybrids,” Bobbie said, and Selina dipped her head in agreement.
“We’ve learned that the Hunter genes are recessive and that they also blend. It’s the reason why there are not more hybrids and why their powers vary so greatly. Although in general, Hunter hybrids are stronger and smarter than most humans. It’s why they are invariably viewed as leaders. Your strength and ability to conduct energy is one of the highest levels we’ve encountered,” Kellen explained.
Selina must have sensed her uneasiness, for as she had done before, she reached out, took Bobbie’s hand in hers, and sent a gentle pulse of power that immediately brought tranquility.
At Bobbie’s questioning glance, Selina said, “We can heal as well, but you know that, don’t you? I can sense Adam’s power within you.”
Since there was no denying it, Bobbie nodded. “I was injured in Iraq.”
“Humans are always so aggressive and warlike,” Kellen interrupted with a disdainful sigh.
“Seems to me that the Hunters do a pretty good job of being bellicose as well. Adam remembers a battle. He remembers death and destruction all around him in the desert. Are you saying it was humans that did that?” Bobbie challenged.
The dull flush that spread across Kellen’s cheeks was answer enough, but he still tried to establish a distinction. “That battle, as you call it, was an attack on our complex by the Shadow Hunters.”
Bobbie arched a brow and returned her attention to Selina, wanting to hear her melodic, peaceful voice divulge more of the history of Adam’s people. “Care to explain why you’re different from the Shadow Hunters?”
“It seems that the Hunters were as susceptible as the indigenous tribes to the diseases brought by the conquistadores, possibly more so.”
Bobbie furrowed her brow. “The smallpox killed your people?”
A silvery sheen washed over Selina’s eyes as she continued, and her voice took on a biting edge. “Those who died were the lucky ones.”
“Death is never better, no matter how difficult life may seem,” Bobbie parried.
Selina smiled sadly and squeezed Bobbie’s hand. “I know you are aware of sacrifice and pain, but no one could have predicted how smallpox would change the Hunters. Only a scant number of our people retained the ability to hunt energy, and it fell on them to attempt to heal those who were sick. The lucky ones died. The not so lucky lived, but could never again hunt.”
“And they’re the Shadows?” Bobbie pressed, wanting to comprehend their hierarchy and how she and Adam fit into the structure.
Selina shook her head and pressed on with her explanation. “The Shadows descend from those amongst us who were forever cursed by the pox. The illness buried itself in their bodies, becoming one with them. No matter how many times they were healed, the pox returned. Until one day a dying Shadow took hold of a Quinchu, drained her life force, and was seemingly restored.”
“Because your energy is the most potent,” Bobbie added, and with another sad smile, Selina finished the tale.
“Stealing every last atom of Quinchu power kept the first Shadow’s pox away, and others like him revolted, turning on the Quinchus and the other Hunters.”
Kellen finally spoke up again. “Our people have been fighting that civil war for hundreds of years, hiding to avoid the Shadows and maintain our world separate from the humans.”
“Humans like me,” Bobbie finished his thought. “What does this have to do with me and Adam?”
“Bruno took our son. We want him back with us,” Kellen replied curtly, then glanced at his wife uneasily.
“Our people… Kellen and I are growing weaker. Without an infusion of new power, our clan will die off.”
“Adam is the source of that power,” Bobbie stated.
“Yes. If all had gone as planned, Kikin would have married the daughter of the Ocean clan Quinchus,” Selina advised.
“Because of the Equinox?” Bobbie asked, recalling the conversation she had overheard earlier that morning.
“You know about the bonding that must happen?” Kellen pressed.
Bobbie glanced up at him. “I overheard Salvatore Bruno discussing something called an Equinox with another man this morning. He used the word ‘triad.’ ”
“Adam’s thirtieth year marks the end of the first triad. But there is no way Salvatore could know about Adam joining with the daughter of the Ocean clan,” Selina advised.
“Marriage to another,” Bobbie nodded, the quiver in her voice the only clue that Selina’s pronouncement bothered her.
“What do you want from me?” she asked, even though she already had a clue.
“Can you get Kikin to speak with us? To let us tell our story?” Selina asked, and finally slouched back in her chair, as if drained by all that she had revealed. As before, Kellen lovingly embraced her, placing a kiss at her temple.
Selina could read Bobbie’s thought in her face. If she told Adam about his parents, it might mean that he would be lost to her by virtue of the obligations he would be expected to honor. But if she didn’t tell Adam about them, he would never know his true origins. Never experience the kind of love that she shared with her family.
It wasn’t an easy choice, but love sometimes meant making sacrifices for those about whom you cared. Even if it would break your heart.
With a shrug, Bobbie finally answered in the only way she could.
“All I can do is try.”
Selina and Kellen shared another anxious look, and then Selina reached beneath the scalloped edge of the shirt she wore. As she did so, Bobbie noticed the hint of a scar high up along one shoulder.
“We all have our wounds, Bobbie,” she said, and then pulled out a heavy golden medallion on a thick gold chain.
Sliding it off over her head, Selina dangled it in front of Bobbie.
“Kikin used to see this all the time, from when he nursed at my breast to the nights when he was older and climbed into bed with us during a storm.”
Bobbie took the medallion and examined it. The geometric design was vaguely familiar, and then it occurred to her where she had seen it before.
“Adam doodles sometimes when he’s thinking. The drawings look a lot like this. He used the symbols as a logo for his company,” she said, running her hand over the surface of the medallion. The design had been worn almost smooth in spots from wear. If she’d had any doubt about the truth of their story, the medallion with the design that Adam was sure to remember chased those doubts away.
Selina laced her fingers together and with a throaty whisper replied, “Maybe it will jog some memory for him.”
“Do you have pictures? Anything that—”
“We never keep such things. There has always been fear that the photos will expose our auras or be used to identify us and hunt us down,” Kellen explained.
With a nod, Bobbie gathered up the chain and medallion and clutched it in her hand. Facing them directly, she repeated her earlier promise.
“I can’t guarantee anything, but I will try.”
CHAPTER
29
Adam no longer trusted him, Salvatore thought, taking another long pull on the glass of scotch as he sat at his kitchen table, flipping through the file for Genesis and wondering how he would ever regain Adam’s trust, or if he even wanted to, since he was unexpectedly unsure of the plans he had made with Sombrosa.
Although Alexander’s man had radiated calm, there was just something about him and Sombrosa that was suddenly not sitting so well with him. Add to that the fact that Adam had appeared so happy with Bobbie before Salvatore had given him the doctored files.
He had made the Carreras out to be the bad guys, although nothing could be farther from the truth. The only real facts in the files were Bobbie’s barren state and the results of the DNA tests. Adam had probably not given much thought to children yet, but someday he would, and Bobbie would never be able to provide him with a family of his own. Children with Adam’s unique abilities.
Children who might have been the first step for his project. His grandchildren, he thought, his sense of duty and his feelings for Adam warring with each other as they had on more than one occasion. He had tried to be a good father, had done the best he could. And didn’t all good parents push their children to reach their full potential?
Organizing all the papers before him, Salvatore slipped them back into the file for Genesis and then sat there, his hands splayed on the surface of the table.
A serviceable table, he thought, shifting one hand back and forth across a slight dent on the wooden surface. He and Adam had been working on a science project when the power drill had slipped from Adam’s young hands and dropped onto the tabletop, creating the impression in the wood.
A few inches away was an inch-long burn mark in the varnish, a testament to another project and a soldering iron that had gone forgotten as Adam and he had gotten to talking.
Salvatore wasn’t an emotional man, but as he raised his head and glanced around the kitchen, each place his gaze touched roused a memory of Adam.
His chest tightened painfully with the memories. He grabbed the glass and took another long swig, but it did nothing to relieve the pressure around his heart or the wrenching of his gut.
Guilt, his conscience said. Adam might not be his biological son, but he was for all intents and purposes his ch
ild. Twenty years of watching him grow, of protecting him, couldn’t be erased as easily as he had thought.
Finishing the scotch, Salvatore poured himself another as he returned his gaze to the file sitting before him.
Twenty long years he had waited for this moment. For the time when Genesis could become a reality.
He should have been ecstatic.
Instead all Salvatore felt was despair.
Adam had barely slept all night, his mind streaming out thought after thought like a tickertape gone wild. Image after image, fact after fact, sped along his synapses, keeping him going long into the night and early morning.
A low, insistent buzz finally roused him from a troubled sleep. His smartphone danced along the surface of his nightstand.
He picked up the phone and came instantly awake at the number displayed by the caller ID.
Bobbie.
Doubt and need snaked around his heart, constricting it painfully as he stared at the vibrating phone in his hand.
And then the buzzing stopped.
Relief and regret replaced his earlier emotions, the latter strong enough to make him want to return her call and find out what she could possibly want that early on a Sunday morning. The phone droned again, flashed to let him know he had a voice mail.
He should disregard it, ignore her and her call, because he was still unsure of so many things. And yet he found himself accessing the message, sending his password with a mental blast while he sat back against the pillows to listen to what she had to say.
“Adam.”
Just the sound of his name on her lips tightened his gut.
“I need to see you. Please, Adam. Please call me back.”
It was that plaintive plea that got to him, driving away any doubt about the wisdom of returning her call. He hadn’t known Bobbie long, but he had learned one thing during their short time together: Bobbie wasn’t the kind to beg. Not even if her life depended on it. Maybe for someone else. Someone she cared about, but not for herself.