by Dee, Bonnie
Some of her bruises could be explained away by the tossing she took while fighting the quake, but the extensive bruising between her legs was all Miller’s fault. Carr snarled as he lightly traced fingermarks left on her arms, throat and inner thighs by Miller’s cruel hands. Yeah, Miller and he had a date for sure. Thunderdome style.
Territorial instincts urged him to make Lily his—all his—and erase the memory of Miller’s foul touch. But a more rational part of him knew she wasn’t ready for another large male to cover her. She was in no condition mentally, emotionally or physically for his sexual possession. Unfortunately, depending on how soon the next Earth catastrophe occurred, they might have to have sex sooner than she could tolerate.
Unable to help himself, he kissed one particularly ugly bruise on her breast before he covered her gently with the blanket, swaddling her as a mother would an infant. They’d cross the need-for-sex issue when they absolutely had to—but not now. Now she needed to recuperate … to feel safe and cherished within his arms. She needed to learn to trust him to care for her—and he would, even before he cared for himself. Now and forever, Lily Redfern was his life’s main priority.
A surge of energy from the amulet around his neck traveled through him.
I chose well, Carr Madoc. Trust in your nature. You will sense when the time is right to complete the bonding with Lily. The timing of this event is crucial. My poor planet is out of balance. The time of the Talisman is upon us. The future is yet to be written. The Destroyer who initiated end times cannot stop what he has wrought. Already his ranks are splintering. The Air Talisman and her Consort will arise from the degradation of the evil one. Only the four Talisman and their Consorts can stop the destruction of the world. Timing is all. Be vigilant and aware.
Carr shook his head. The lingering voice of the amulet, it could only be Gaia, echoed in his head. He wasn’t sure why Mother Gaia placed her trust in him, but he vowed not to let her down. Because letting the Goddess down, would be the end—and he wanted a long lifetime with Lily. Children. Grandchildren. He’d do anything he had to in order to make his vision of a life with Lily come true—even single-handedly face down every Destroyer on Earth.
Chapter Eight
Monday, Upper State New York, 3 p.m. (EST)
It had been close, but Trent had managed to avoid the men Brody sent to kill him. He hid in a small cave he’d discovered and equipped on Brody’s estate. While he’d waited for darkness to fall so he could rescue Autumn, he used a secure sat-phone and sent an anonymous message to KOTE’s San Francisco and New York headquarters. He warned them about the Air disaster to come and revealed Brody’s involvement in that and the Indiana quake.
The quake in Indiana was over. There was nothing he could do about it—or the fallout from it. He’d also been too late to aid the KOTE people in completely stopping the tornadoes Brody had ordered created. The good news was, without him relaying Brody’s orders, KOTE had some lead time for the planned Fire and Water disasters. That is, if he could find the information in the files he’d downloaded. Brody never issued orders on the higher levels of destruction himself—plausible deniability, he called it. It would take time for the old man to find someone else to front his dirty work.
Trent leaned against the cool, damp wall of the small cave. He’d only have one chance to snatch Autumn from Brody’s cruel clutches. Her security should be normal since Brody had no idea Autumn meant anything to him. The old man only trotted her out for public display and his games from time to time; the rest of the time she was locked in her private quarters.
Trent had the codes to the doors to her quarters—and he had a gun. He’d kill anyone who tried to stop him. If he failed to free her … no, he wouldn’t fail. Autumn was his life, the one woman who was meant for him. He would rescue her … or die trying.
He should’ve left Brody’s employ a long time ago, but six months ago something happened that kept him in place. He’d been about to leave, take all the files he could steal, then go over to KOTE, when Autumn had been dragged into Brody’s ugly little world as his new bride. Trent had fallen instantly in love and vowed to take her away.
After Autumn revealed that Brody boasted about his evil plans during “play sessions” with her, they made a mutual decision to stay and gather as much information on his master plan as possible. It had taken most of the last six months for him to break the encryption on Brody’s personal computer and download files without leaving cyber-fingerprints. During that time, Autumn courageously and unselfishly went through hell.
Trent would never forgive himself for that. As Brody abused and humiliated her, Trent’s determination to get her away from the madman had increased and strengthened.
Yet it had taken a cataclysm and the possible end of the world to give him the courage to make the final break. If he’d known the exact timing and the location for Brody’s plans before yesterday, he’d like to think he would’ve acted sooner, but even then he knew he would’ve waited until he could save Autumn. And she’d refused to go until they’d gathered enough information to bring the bastard down.
With the information he’d already provided KOTE, and with the data and files he’d give them when he asked for sanctuary for Autumn and himself, he hoped Brody could be stopped once and for all.
Closing his eyes, Trent bent his head and prayed—something he hadn’t done since he was a child.
* * * *
Monday, Southwestern Ohio, 3 p.m. (EST).
Darcy hunkered down in an underground storage area of an abandoned private airfield. By pushing the Bell jet helicopter’s air speed to its maximum of 136 knots, he’d managed to stay ahead of the line of strong thunderstorms and tornadoes. Spotting the airfield just as the auxiliary fuel tank had sported only fumes had been a bit of luck. Landing the ’copter, he anchored it the best he could and took to the underground fuel storage area. If he and the ’copter survived, he’d be able to fuel the bird and make it to Brody’s place in New York with one more stop along the way for refueling.
As he’d raced ahead of the powerful storms and viewed the devastation the quake had caused, he changed his mind about not throwing in with Brody. The Destroyer had power—and would go after Lily with everything he had. At this point in time, Darcy figured his best chance to get his hands on Lily would be to play along and assist the crazy Destroyer.
The fact that Madoc got to her first was of no importance. Madoc was one man, and a Protector was a Protector as far as Darcy was concerned. Since Brody had a whole platoon of former Terran Protectors in his Destroyer arsenal, Madoc wouldn’t have a chance against them. Darcy smiled. While Brody’s men ran interference with Madoc, he would swoop in and make away with the prize.
A strong gust of wind rattled the metal door he’d barred against the storm. The resulting shriek as the wind found its way through cracks, vibrated his bones. Another gust blasted the ceiling of the shelter. He swore he heard his name on the wind—calling to him—chastising—threatening.
Miller. Repent now … or meet Death. Miller. Repent now … or meet Death.
He covered his ears against the sepulchral voice, but to no avail, the words sounded in his head over and over, a ghastly dirge. Not even the sound of his own screaming could drown out the haunting refrain.
Curling in on himself, his body shook with cold and dread. He prayed to whatever gods would listen—but none took pity on him and the dire words continued to reverberate in his mind. Finally, he succumbed to the dark oblivion of unconsciousness.
* * * *
Monday, Central Indiana, Grissom Air Force Base, 3 p.m. (EST)
Donovan and Mark huddled with a small group of airmen in the air force base’s bomb shelter which had miraculously survived the quake. With the help of the men, they’d managed to tie down the KOTE jet helicopter before the first tornado siren sounded in the area. Only the gods knew what they’d find when the all-clear was sounded.
If they did not have a maneuverable ’copter, Donovan would
call for backup and then go back and find Carr and Lily. He only hoped they could retrieve the Earth Talisman and her Protector before the next Earth catastrophe occurred. He refused to entertain the thought that neither of the two would survive. They had to—or all could be lost.
“Mr. Callahan, sir?”
Donovan looked into the serious face of the commander of the small air wing based at Grissom. “Yes, Captain?”
“We have a call for you.”
“Call? During this storm?”
The man smiled. “We’re military, sir. We can get messages in and out during a nuclear strike—an earthquake and a bunch of heavy weather is not gonna stop us.” The man winked. “We sent your message when you arrived. We just got a call-back from your people.”
Donovan exhaled past the lump in his throat. “Brenna is okay?” Mark came up to him and patted him on the shoulder. His friend’s silent support was appreciated.
“Looks like it, sir, since the call is from a woman named Brenna.”
A weight lifted from his soul. Donovan stood up. “Lead the way please, Captain.”
He followed the base commander through the labyrinthine underground facilities to the control room. The monitors showed live feed from surviving outside cameras. The images depicted a dark, stormy world. Flashes of lightning revealed damage to the base, but not as much as he’d expected. The hangers that survived the quake still stood and looked fairly intact, including the one in which KOTE’s ’copter sat. He breathed a sigh of relief. They just might be able to move after the storms swept through.
So far there had been two lines of strong supercells generating EF-3 and EF-4 tornadoes in their wake. Indiana, Illinois, Ohio and northern Kentucky had gotten the double whammy—first the quake and now the storms. There was no telling how many people, if any, had survived the disasters. And those left would be shot back to a time period when there were no services and communication. This area would be in an infrastructure dark age and no telling when the rest of the world would be able to help if the chaos the Book predicted was as widespread as foretold.
“Your wife, sir.” A corpsman handed him a headset.
Donovan put it on. “Brenna?”
“Donovan!” She sobbed. “When we got your message we couldn’t believe it. Reports from ham radio operators are saying the destruction in Indiana is devastating except for a small northern area along Lake Michigan.”
“I’m fine—Mark is too. Don’t cry, love.” He paused. “Are you really okay?”
“Yes … everyone on the KOTE team made it out. We moved away from the river. We’re inland in Missouri at an air force base.” She paused to sniff. “I was so worried … then we got the message from Grissom that you were safe. My God, Donovan, there’s nothing left at New Madrid. The alluvial plains along both sides of the Mississippi are underwater from St. Louis down to New Orleans.” She let out a watery sounding sigh. “The Water Keepers couldn’t hold it back—quakes took out the levees. They did what they could.” The sound of her crying came over the headset.
“Darling, please you’re killing me. Stop crying, honey.”
“I was so scared, Donovan. I didn’t know if you lived or—Next time I’m going with you.”
Donovan swore under his breath. Fear for what Brenna and the others must’ve faced chilled him to the marrow of his bones. With the storms heading into the area, it must have been a close call. And he had not been there to protect her.
“Yes, love, we won’t be separated again. I promise.”
“Donovan? We got a message from Claire and also from the New York offices just before we left New Madrid. Algernon Brody is behind the Indiana quake and the tornadoes we’re experiencing.”
“I heard. The New York Office reached me in the ’copter.” After several seconds of silence, Donovan asked, “What’s wrong, Brenna?”
He’d purposely kept his side of the conversation neutral so that the human corpsman would not learn of the preternaturals that lived alongside humans. But if Brenna did not tell him what was hurting her soul and tell him soon, he might have to use his voice to draw her worries out and he was afraid the human would notice the magick in the air.
“There are reports from all over the world that Earth is out of balance. The unnatural events taking place here are causing natural disasters and even climate change all over the world. Our people and the humans are doing the best they can, but…” Brenna’s voice trailed off and she began to sob once more.
Donovan got the picture. The Gaia effect. The chaotic imbalance would lead to the end of the world—a final and devastating Ice Age that would exterminate almost all species on Earth, land, sea, and air. “Baby, baby, it’s okay.”
But it wasn’t. He swore, feeling at a loss to help her or his people. His soul, his essence, demanded he do something, but he was at a loss as to what. For the first time since 1989 he had no answers, no direction in which to lead his people.
“Brenna, we’ll figure something out. Mark and I will rescue Carr and Lily and meet up with you in San Francisco. Just stay safe. Tell Claire Mark is fine. You’re the boss until I get there.”
“Donovan?” Brenna’s voice sounded small, frail and so unlike his strong, vital woman that tears welled in his eyes.
“Yes, baby?”
“I love you.” She sniffed, then spoke, her voice stronger than before. “I trust you to do what’s necessary. I’ll do what’s needed until you arrive home, my love. Just get there. KOTE needs its Spirit Talisman. I need you.”
“No more than I need you, Brenna Kennedy Callahan. Be safe.”
Donovan pulled the headset off and handed it back to the solemn-faced corpsman. He sought inside himself and prayed to the Sky Father and Gaia to bring the world through the chaos initiated by a madman. A madman whom he should have defanged a long time ago—but hadn’t. If the world ended, it would be all his fault.
And if the world survives, it will be because of you, Spirit Talisman, and your leadership in the days to come. Trust in yourself just as you did in ’89. Trust in the strength of your people. Have faith…
Chapter Nine
Monday, Southwestern Indiana, 9 p.m. EST.
Lily awoke to a green glow and a roaring sound. Blinking grit and sleep from her eyes, she absorbed her surroundings. Past the green glow, it was pitch black. She must be farther back in the cave behind the waterfall. The thundering noise was the rush of the water.
As for her physical condition, she was naked, swaddled in some sort of blanket made of a thin, slick material. Her body throbbed; she hurt in places she wasn’t sure she’d ever hurt before. It was as if someone had methodically pummeled every inch of her body. She was dry—and warm, very warm. Her eyes flew wide open. The source of the heat was the large, muscled, half-naked male holding her on his lap.
Not just any man, but her man—her Consort.
Carr cradled her against his bare chest, cuddling her like an infant and not a full-grown woman. She got no sexual vibes off him at all. Instead she felt at peace, safe, cherished—protected. Her mind had trouble reconciling her body’s trust in Carr. The peaceful feelings were not ones she usually associated with the male of the species.
A loud crack of thunder reverberated through the cave, the sound amplified as it bounced off the rocks walls. She cried out and jerked upright.
The arms holding her tightened. Carr’s baritone soothed her. “Ssh, Lily, it’s okay, baby. You’re safe. Lie back. It’s only a thunderstorm.”
She shuddered and relaxed into his embrace. Her gut trusted him even as her mind shouted its usual warnings about males. “The tornadoes?”
“They seem to have dissipated.” He shrugged, the ripple of his muscles making themselves felt against her back.
A frisson of warmth shot straight to her womb. Her body recognized its mate. She’d heard other Terran women talk about this type of primordial reaction. She hadn’t believed them. Now she had first-hand proof.
“You cold?” His warm breath whis
pered over her forehead. She shivered. He tugged the blanket around her naked shoulders, tucking it against his body, trapping the heat. “Is that better?”
“Yes … thanks.” She warmed even more at the gentle way in which he cared for her needs over his own. The ground had to be cold, damp and hard, but he’d placed himself between her and the elements. “Are … are the storms gone?”
It was hard to concentrate with all his hard masculine strength surrounding her, distracting her. She had to think, be her usual logical self—and not just react to the conditions. But it was damn difficult when all her body wanted to do was turn further into his and let him take care of her—however he wished.
“Not entirely. But the worst looks to be over. Not sure if the Air Talisman has arisen or if the Air Keepers in Tornado Alley with the early warning were able to diffuse the conditions.” He nuzzled her neck right below her ear. “You slept through it all.”
“Any more after-quakes?” Her breath hitched then soughed out as he nibbled on her ear lobe. The man was seducing her with his tender care. And it was working.
Carr wasn’t all hands—or rough—like Darcy Miller. Every movement was slow, deliberate, controlled—careful—as if he tested for her reactions. She knew he’d stop if she asked. She liked that he was sensitive to her needs … her limits.
Time would tell if she could mate with him; for the prophecy hinged on the four elemental Talisman mating with their Protectors. The voice of the amulet had come to her during her sleep and nailed home that salient point. The Power of Three is the seed of the future being planted in the Talisman. Not the mind-body-spirit trinity she’d thought, but actual procreation. Not only did they have to have sex, they had to create life. Talk about pressure.