PHOENIX (The Weaver Series Book 4)

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PHOENIX (The Weaver Series Book 4) Page 9

by Vaun Murphrey


  “Until we know what’s going on, no more casual shield drops. I want all of us on high alert. This could all be some distraction to get us away from the enclave by the Warp Faction or they could just want to talk, either way I say assume the worst case scenario.”

  Silver turned Kara’s wrists to grab my own. The pressure as she squeezed through the malleable force field was meant as a comfort. “So…Declan or Gerome?”

  I shrugged. “Since we’ve already seen a Declan clone I’d guess that direction.”

  Corinne came back to the now. “They’re on the way.”

  My gaze meandered over Kara’s body. James was just going to have to cope. We didn’t have time to change appearances. I started as a light field enveloped her form.

  Silver’s voice sounded thin. “I can be here without being here. If we attempt to close a circuit just put me between you and Corinne so he doesn’t have to touch me.”

  James rushed across the threshold, face flushed. He scanned the room looking for a threat and then settled into a comical confused expression. “Where’s the fire?”

  I reached with an invisible arm of the shield and shoved Corinne in the shoulder with it none too gently. “Geez, Harris, did you tell them anything?”

  Corinne forced my artificial energy tentacle back where it belonged. “I followed your instructions to the letter.”

  James widened his eyes so large they almost bulged in impatience. “Why am I up here and where the hell is K-uh…Silver?” He reddened all the way to his ears.

  In the hall a sore, slow Malcolm appeared to fill the doorway. He leaned a thick shoulder against the white door jamb. His uniform was gone, replaced by utilitarian gray cotton sweatpants and a forest green V-neck t-shirt. Beat up corduroy house shoes finished off his ensemble. His coal chip eyes rested in sunken, tired sockets. Massive hands to hips, he said, “I’m about ready to hit the sack, so say what you’ve got to say.”

  From thin air Silver said, “Your hit and run turned themselves in. Chavarria says he’s someone related to us that he knows should be dead.”

  James looked at the spot by my side where Silver was hidden in plain sight.

  Malcolm grunted. “So y’all wanna gallivant off to the station right this second and get involved with something the police are hired to handle? Count me out; they can hold him all nice and secure ‘til morning.” He grumbled, “I can’t believe I came all the way up those damn stairs for this. Next time just tell me in the Web, Corinne. Dang!”

  Before Malcolm could give us his whole back I said, “We just need you to share a visual of the location so we can ‘port. The suspect has claimed they’ll give a statement if Cass and I come speak with them. If it’s the Warp Faction it could be a setup. Kevin can ramp up security at the enclave while the rest of us are gone.”

  Broad back became broad front as Malcolm did a one-eighty. He didn’t look tired anymore. “I changed my mind, I’ll go with you.”

  James moved closer, giving the big man behind him more room. “Okay so how are we going to have enough juice for a multiple person teleportation if the tesseract is down? We don’t have the resources.”

  Corinne dropped all our shields then stepped up and held out a hand to the seemingly empty air by my side. I could see when Silver accepted because the bleached skin of Corinne’s palm indented and her fingers curled. My twin’s grip was warm and welcoming as she took hold. I gave a reassuring squeeze that was returned two-fold.

  I jerked my head at James. “Link up and we’ll see if this works or not.”

  With slow small steps he came forward, his eyes on the blank spot where Silver stayed hidden. Not until the last second did he close the circle. At first I thought nothing might happen. One heartbeat, two heartbeats and a breath, still nothing.

  Then Corinne brought up the shield again and all hell broke loose.

  Chapter Ten: Pissing Contests

  The rippling tide of power encased us, inescapably infusing our pores. There was no accelerating elliptical loop, just a well of unending, infinite power. Silver lost her concentration as her light field dissipated in a flurry of lightning bug sparkles, but we were all too busy trying not to drown in sensation to pay much mind to the accidental beauty.

  Malcolm whistled as he threw an elbow across his face. “Holy shit! You guys are radiating heat like a bonfire. Tone it down or you’re going to burn through the floor!”

  I felt Corinne reach for Malcolm with the wild hungry mass enfolding us and he sucked in a breath through clenched teeth as he experienced the rush. Her calm voice reflected a control I didn’t feel. “We aren’t going to burn through anything. I think I understand it. Give me a minute to work it out.”

  James shuddered. “I feel like an overinflated tire. We need a way to release this!”

  Unexpectedly, but pleasantly, the barely contained energy beast went from bending the bars of its cage to sitting tamely in a corner, waiting to bite. While we could think, I barked, “Silver and Malcolm get in the Web and figure out the best place for us to arrive unseen. Corinne, how stable are we, and how can I help?”

  The petite blonde’s normally cool blue eyes were lit from within. “Basically I closed the gates to a crack. If I let go we’ll flood all over again. Would you suggest I close off the power completely until it’s needed or should I leave the slow bleed?”

  A painful stabbing began somewhere around my navel. I gasped, “Open it wider!” Everyone drew in a ragged breath at the same time. The pain must have been universal. “The same force applied to a smaller area results in a larger pressure. You need to keep it diffused not sharp, Harris.”

  Corinne bobbed her head and squinted with concentration. Her nose scrunched up in a cute mousey point. I relaxed when the focus broadened and the sharp ache subsided.

  Silver opened her eyes to blurt, “I’ve got the location in mind if you think we’re set to bend, Cass?”

  Malcolm rolled his shoulders shook his arms with a wondering smile on his wide mouth. “I’m not sore anymore.” He was positioned between Corinne and James, stopping just short of their linked hands.

  My gaze strayed to my feet and I noticed the fuzzy carpet fibers were singed. I looked at the whole group and realized we were all standing in scorch marks. Hopefully we wouldn’t accidently burn down the police station with our bend. “I’m ready when y’all are.”

  It wasn’t the same without Silver inside. She couldn’t just throw me an image. We usually worked as a team. We’d gotten in the habit of Silver gathering the information and me doing the heavy lifting, but now since she had the destination and I didn’t, my sister would have to do it all. The least I could do was bend light around our group so we didn’t scare anyone who saw us pop in.

  There wasn’t any pixilation when the bend began, instead the room distorted like waving water behind a kaleidoscope of aquarium glass. It was dark outside and the night sky firmed from indistinct swirls of starlight to the irregular pinpoints in a vertigo inducing split second. My ears picked up insect sounds and the hum of tires over cobblestone streets.

  We were in a small empty parking lot between two square law offices. A short green wall with a leafless tree shaped like the skeleton of a giant mushroom stood beside us, shielding us from view. I released the light field at the same time as Silver dropped my hand. I think we were all relieved when our energy source switched to the off position.

  Malcolm rolled his shoulders then looked down at his slippers and laughed. “Dang, I shoulda changed clothes. Why didn’t somebody remind me?”

  Silver snorted, “Keep your pants on, Big Man, it’s not like we can’t help you out.”

  I felt the field shift subtly in the area of Malcolm’s feet and when I looked down he appeared to be wearing a pair of tan Sperry’s. He grunted, “These aren’t my style.”

  Silver smiled with Kara’s mouth, sweet and tight-lipped. “Beggars can’t be choosers.”

  I peeked around the edge of the wall and across the street at the Lubb
ock Police Department building. It was dated. The roof on three fourths of the one side looked like precisely folded white cardboard and rectangular glass covered the front. On the right the construction turned solid, square and brick with a jutting paneled facing as an off-white trim along the top. Metal letters on the multi-colored bricks spelled out, City of Lubbock Municipal Square. Repairs were being made and an area was cordoned off with a temporary chain link fence. Debris and a lone dumpster waited for work to continue in the daylight.

  To the left, black and white Crown Vics and Tahoes were parked in reserved diagonal spots against the curb. A couple of motorcycle units stood on one end, looking like tiny misfits next to the four wheel brigade. Malcolm took the lead as I walked and selected the last number on my received calls list. We headed toward a white covered carport area that was currently unoccupied. The wind had died down so the U.S. and Texas flags out front sagged against the poles, not whipping and snapping angrily.

  The other end picked up after half a ring and Chavarria asked, “You here already?”

  “Yup.”

  A dial tone registered as I realized he’d hung up. What an ass. I stuffed the phone in my front pocket as James came even with me on my free side. He was doing his best not to look over my head at Silver riding in his dead sister’s body. Corinne had moved to Malcolm’s right, his tiny bodyguard, ever vigilant. She kept her head moving, scanning the area for signs of incoming danger.

  Chavarria met us outside at the front doors. A couple of patrolmen on the sidewalk stopped talking to give our group the once over as we passed. Their black radios squawked in unison. Malcolm ignored them and focused on Señor Crew Cut. The Agent hadn’t changed his style any, he still looked like an off-duty used car salesman who was pissed at the world. His starched and ironed khaki pants with his light blue dress shirt made his build seem slight.

  Chavarria cupped the butt of his automatic in its holster, putting his arm out in a bent wing. “I don’t see a car.”

  James deadpanned, pointing to the glossy hood of a parked police unit. “You don’t?”

  Malcolm’s deep bass cut the bullshit. “Let’s go.”

  We were treated to a view of Chavarria’s pressed hang loop, high center on his back. His collar looked like it had rubbed a red swath just under his hairline at the base of his neck. The shallow lines of age were just beginning to show from the sun damage on his neck.

  I half expected Silver to dodge in on my thoughts and supply some useless knowledge about most humans acquiring eighty percent of their UV exposure during childhood, and I ached inside for her company. My hand slipped into Kara’s larger one. She started then looked down. When our eyes met it felt like our emotions fell into perfect sync.

  We followed our not-so-polite police escort through one side of a set of glass doors surrounded by a metal frame. The LPD shield decorated the center. We went past the check-in, down a hall lined with benches interspersed with cuffed subjects, and through another door into an open area filled with desks.

  Chavarria headed straight to a portly older man, probably in his early fifties, with thick salt and pepper hair that could have been brown in his younger years and a flat broad face. His nose looked like it’d been broken more than once and his two front teeth were coffee stained. A goatee hid the detective’s thin upper lip, and he looked over the top of black rimmed glasses at us as we approached.

  Bushy eyebrows raised in question. “I assume two of these visitors are Cassandra and Silver Rainbow?” He nodded in recognition at Malcolm then dismissed Corinne and James with a frown. He tried to pin me down with his gray gaze so I gave as good as I got.

  Chavarria shifted forward, stance aggressive. “If you want your statement then you’ll let them in the interrogation room, Koenig.” He left it unsaid, but the atmosphere felt charged with the implication that he could make it happen whether the locals wanted it to or not.

  I noticed one of the buttons on his plaid dress shirt, right above the detective’s wide belt, had come undone and a tiny triangle of white cotton undershirt was exposed. Pointing out his wardrobe malfunction would probably only reflect my lack of social graces, so I decided to ignore it. The general noise of phones ringing and background conversation interrupted my thought processes as an annoying accelerant to the flames of my impatience.

  Detective Koenig picked at a hair on his chin then dropped a file folder on his empty leather chair. “I’m not in the habit of catering to criminal whims, Marco, especially not some asshole who injured a fellow law enforcement officer and then ran like a coward.” He paused as his eyes went from anger to concern and settled on Malcolm. “Moore, how are you, by the way?”

  A veined forearm rose to motion at his chest and left side. “I’m still sore but no broken bones. I should be back on duty in a day or so if Hernandez will let me. You know how he gets.”

  Koenig smiled, exposing even more yellow stained teeth. “Yeah.” He hitched up his pants and like a football coach on the sideline. “I can’t let you in the interrogation room with him, Moore. If his lawyer got wind of us letting you back, it could damage the case.”

  He shrugged then pretended to wince from pain. “It’s all good. I’m here for the Rainbows anyway. Can I watch from the other side of the glass, Stewie?”

  Silver smirked at me behind her hand and mouthed, Stewie? I clamped my lips together to keep from smiling. James nudged my boot with his and I looked up into a cloudy disapproving expression. But, the light in his green eyes betrayed his inner laughter.

  Koenig gave a shake of his head and pointed to James and Corinne. “You can, but these two need to park it out here.”

  I interjected, “They’re our bodyguards, Detective, and if they stay here they won’t be of much use.”

  The detective raised a brow at Corinne standing at attention by Malcolm and scanning the room. “You’re in the middle of a police station. I’d say you’re safe, little lady.”

  Silver growled, “She’s not your ‘little lady’ and they stay with us or we leave.”

  Chavarria stared death rays into Koenig then motioned for us to follow him. The detective moved fast, faster than his size might indicate he could, and dashed in front of Chavarria to thrust out his rounded belly. “You’ve got no jurisdiction here! Tell me why the FBI is even stickin’ their nose in!” His breathing came fast and hard and some of the other lawmen around the room gave us their full attention. “What’s so special about this case?”

  We could only see Chavarria’s backside but his feet settled wide apart and he angled his upper body sideways at the waist as if getting ready for a physical attack.

  “Koenig, you can lead on or you can get out of the way. I’d suggest you choose in the next five seconds. You aren’t authorized for answers. Take your beef up with the Chief.”

  The threat of violence swung like a pendulum on a frayed rope as Detective Stewie Koenig tried valiantly to get his justifiable anger under control. I felt sorry for him a tiny bit, most likely because Marco Chavarria pissed me off too. The portly man’s shoulders set as he made a tight about face to march us between the rows of desks with their watching hostile occupants in residence. We were not making friends here at all.

  Another hall greeted us but was shorter than the first one and covered with tile that looked like something from an old military hospital. Chips out of corners under my feet exposed the black gummy glue on the concrete foundation. A drop down ceiling with brown water stains hovered above our heads. I’d guess the money wasn’t in the budget for a remodel of the interior, either that or they were choosing to spend it elsewhere.

  Koenig stopped in front of a door with a small book-sized window. “He’s in there alone.” He pointed to the next door a few feet away. “It’s not a big room but Chavarria and Moore can wait over there. Flip the switch next to the two-way mirror if you wanna ask a question, but you should be able to hear and see everything without any problem.” He paused and addressed Malcolm, “I’d prefer you didn’t
say anything, in fact, I insist.”

  Chavarria bristled. “I’ll be accompanying the Rainbows not you, Koenig. Move.”

  I threw up my arms. “Seriously, does it matter? If both of you can ask questions, why do you care who’s sitting at the damn table? Do I need to do eeny-meeny-miny-mo or something? What about rock, paper, scissors?”

  Both men turned sour faces on me. Their noses were wrinkled as if they’d smelled a fart and neither one wanted to accuse the other openly about it. They stayed silent so I asked in a sweet, innocent sounding voice, “Please wait with Malcolm, Agent Chavarria. I would be indebted to you.”

  He snorted. “You already are indebted to me, Rainbow.”

  Silver crossed her arms over Kara’s chest. “Do I need to have another roof chat with you?”

  Chavarria’s dark skin paled around his mouth and he fisted one hand while the other crept to the butt of his gun. “That will never happen again.” After a suitable bad ass stare down he crooked a finger at Malcolm and walked to the other door.

  Koenig asked Silver, “What did you do to him?”

  My sister shrugged Kara’s shoulders. “You’re a police officer. If I told you, you might feel obligated to arrest me.”

  He mumbled, “Somehow I doubt it.”

  Koenig turned the scratched doorknob to reveal our foe.

  Chapter Eleven: Clone Wars

  Koenig’s broad back was in the way at first and then when he moved to hold the door wide he revealed a five by eight beige room with barely enough space for the bolted down metal table. Two hard wooden chairs waited across from a single occupied one.

  The man waiting patiently with his hands in his lap, long legs extended and crossed at the ankles, did indeed look like a younger version of our father Declan. He was dressed in a white button down dress shirt with a slim black tie and pleated black trousers with no socks and glossy black loafers. His curly dark brown hair was worn long around the ears and neck. Something our real father would have never let happen. Our Declan had always kept his hair cut military short, like an active duty soldier.

 

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