Heavy Metal gr-2

by Natalie J. Damschroder

  “Hi.” Riley smiled shyly. The beautiful fortyish woman seemed to be upright only by virtue of the hot blond guy propping her. “I really appreciate that you came all this way to get me.”

  “Pleasure’s all mine.” Quinn eyed Sam as she said it, a twinkle in her eye that belied her obvious weariness, and Riley was surprised and amused to see him blush.

  “Glad to meet you.” Nick saluted her with his beer bottle before taking a swig. He looked like he wanted to launch into an interrogation, but the server approached to take their orders. Riley let Sam talk her into a steak, knowing she needed a real meal to help her recover from everything that had happened. She hoped it’d calm her stomach, which now roiled unpleasantly, still protesting the fight-or-flight response she’d put it through.

  “All right.” Nick leaned forward. “Tell us what you got in Atlanta. What’s Millinger, and what’s he doing with it?”

  “Nothing good,” Riley said. “And nothing by himself.” She told them about the men in the office, and how the conversation sounded like they were trying to recruit goddesses, or maybe coerce them. “I don’t know what for, though. Anson works for the men, but his plans for me seemed completely separate.” She explained what he’d said about his grandmother’s journal. “He wanted to rescue me. Make me grateful and stuff. But you did that.” She smiled at Sam, who frowned.

  “That all fits. But why didn’t he move in sooner?”

  “He said something about not having a choice, because of the Numina? I overheard John and Jeannine mention them, too. She wanted to keep it quiet until they knew more, but he didn’t want to.”

  Sam’s frown turned into a scowl. “This must be what John wanted to talk to me about, but he didn’t get a chance because I took off to Mississippi.”

  Nick frowned thoughtfully. “Numina,” he repeated.

  “That’s Latin,” Sam said.

  “I know.” Nick nodded. “Something you can tell with your mind, but not see or hear or whatever.”

  The guys eyed each other, communicating in the silent manner of people who’d known each other well for a long time.

  Riley glanced out at the full parking lot, the late sunlight reflecting off the cars that provided cover for anyone who wanted to be unseen. Unease crawled over her again. Nick had just described the prickling when she sensed the suits in Anson’s office, and the buzzing that connected her to Sam, even now.

  Sam continued, “Ancient Romans also used it to worship emperors without offending the real gods by calling them gods.”

  “Human gods,” Nick said.

  No one had to say “holy crap.” It hung in the air between them for several seconds.

  “This is bigger than leeching,” Sam said.

  Nick leaned back, his eyes worried. “It always was, apparently.” He looked at Quinn, who hadn’t said anything. “You ever heard of this?”

  She shook her head. “Never. All our lore, our education, says the gods went extinct millennia ago, and no one knows why. I found some odd references in my research to men who seemed to have abilities, but I dismissed it as unrelated. There are people who can do extraordinary things without being descended from ancient deities. But now…”

  “I can’t believe, all that time, Anson wasn’t working alone.” Sam’s hand closed into a fist on the tabletop. “Those people orchestrated the leeching?” He turned to Riley for confirmation.

  “That’s what it sounded like. Part of a bigger plan that went to hell when he was caught and imprisoned.”

  “You didn’t recognize the men?” Quinn asked Riley. “Or their names?”

  She pressed her lips together. “Not really. I can’t tell you what Anson called them, but they sounded familiar. Like, well-known people. Businessmen, or politicians or something. But I don’t pay a lot of attention to that stuff. I just don’t know.”

  “They don’t have to be gods,” Sam said. “They can aspire to it. I mean, when have we ever had any hint that men with inherited power existed?”

  “Never,” Nick said. “Doesn’t mean they don’t. Secret societies are all the rage, you know. Look at The Da Vinci Code.”

  Sam ignored him. “I think it would be very difficult to hide for so many centuries, especially in modern society.” He stopped talking while the wait staff delivered their food. Steaks still sizzled on cast-iron plates set into wood holders, and blobs of butter melted into baked and mashed potatoes. Riley’s stomach growled, and they put the conversation on hold while they dug in, the others seeming as hungry as she was.

  The residual effects of adrenaline finally dissipated, and the food soothed as well as satisfied. Since no one said much while they ate, Riley sat and absorbed Sam’s nearness. His knee and part of his thigh pressed against hers, and he kept glancing her way, his body angled protectively toward her. She had to fight the urge to lean into him the way Quinn leaned into Nick, their contact both casual and possessive. Sam wasn’t yet Riley’s to touch—though her longing for him had only grown since she saw him standing outside waiting for her. She wanted his silky hair in her hands, to taste his mouth again. She wanted the right to want those things.

  She also wanted to talk to him alone about her new awareness. That was the one thing she could do. But she already had an idea of what it meant, and she couldn’t withhold it from the others, not when there was obviously something so much bigger than her to worry about.

  “Whether or not gods exist doesn’t matter,” Quinn said when she was halfway done with her meal. “Not by itself. What matters is why they’re suddenly trying to recruit goddesses.”

  “Or not so suddenly,” Nick contradicted. “Anson initiated his plan way back in college, remember? We thought he learned everything he knew from Sam, but according to what he told Riley, we were wrong.”

  Sam paled. “You think these Numina guys set him up over a decade ago? The long-term planning for something like that…the foresight and patience…”

  It was mind-boggling to Riley, but it sure seemed as if that was what had happened. Which meant their plan was likely even bigger.

  “You think Numina is like the Society?” Sam asked Quinn. “Some governing body for these guys who think they’re gods?”

  Quinn shrugged.

  “I think they actually exist,” Riley said. “Not just want to be.” They all looked at her.

  “Why?” Nick demanded, seeming to get she wasn’t simply offering an opinion.

  She took a deep breath. “Something happened while I was in there, listening. I don’t know what triggered it. I never noticed it before. Not when I first met—” She cast a quick glance at Sam and regretted it when Nick immediately looked at him, eyes blazing. “I mean, there was something different about the men in that room. The guys in suits created a prickle, like when your fingers go numb, but in my brain. I could sense where they were without looking, almost exactly. And there was a smaller, buzzy sensation I got from Anson. It was different.”

  “That’s kind of how I feel when I’m at peak power and seek presences,” Quinn said. “Like the showdown at Marley’s when Anson attacked us? When we had to know where people were and if any of them had ability? I was trying to detect the leech and the people he’d hired,” she explained to Riley. “It’s not a skill I need to use often.”

  “Do all goddesses have it?” she asked Quinn.

  “Most, to some degree. Can you sense me or Nick?”

  Riley closed her eyes and relaxed her brain, made her concentration diffuse…and there it was. She’d been so worried about what Sam’s buzz meant, she hadn’t even tried.

  For Nick, it wasn’t much more than an awareness of his presence, but Quinn’s was stronger, warmer. Riley spread her attention across the room. She pinpointed where she thought people would be, and when she opened her eyes, she was right.

  “Wow.” It seemed inappropriate to beam, but she was excited at discovering a new facet to her abilities. “That’s amazing. I can sense everyone, and they’re all different. People, goddess
es, and—” She cleared her throat and looked down at her plate.

  “Any prickles here similar to what you felt in Atlanta?” Nick asked.

  Riley shook her head but avoided his gaze. She didn’t know why Sam felt the same as Anson, but it didn’t seem like it would be a good thing. “No one feels like the men in suits did.”

  But Nick seemed to recognize her evasion. “Can you sense Sammy here? Is he different from me?”

  She glanced up at Sam, who was watching her. His brown eyes were darker than normal, a hint of excitement or anxiety—or both—disturbing the overall calm. It was the first time since they rescued her that he’d looked at her so directly, and desire made her tremble.

  He smiled a little. “It’s okay,” he encouraged.

  “Yes,” she admitted. “The same kind of buzzy feeling I get with Anson, but not the same as the other men.”

  “So those three might actually be modern-day gods,” Quinn said with a matter-of-factness Riley couldn’t help but admire. “Watered-down descendants of the ancients like us.”

  “But why are Sam and Anson so different?” Riley didn’t like anything connecting the two men, but Quinn didn’t seem concerned.

  “They’re both sons of goddesses, so they’re unique.” She ate her last bites of asparagus and contemplated her steak, as if uncertain if she could finish it or not. “And when I drained Anson, I knew there’d be a bit of residue.”

  “Enough for him to sense the energy,” Sam said in a low voice. “But not tap into it.”

  Riley gasped. “Does that mean you’ve done it? You returned power to one of the goddesses?”

  Sam nodded. “And now there’s a residue in me, from being a filter.”

  “I knew it.” Nick stabbed an accusing finger at Sam. “When you hauled ass out of the motel earlier—you didn’t just slam the door. There was energy behind it.”

  “I was upset!” Sam protested.

  “Keep your voices down.” Quinn leaned over the table. “That’s more than we expected, Sam. You can actually use it? Not just feel it?”

  His jaw was set, and he didn’t meet anyone’s gaze. “Apparently.”

  “What about now?” she asked.

  He nodded shortly.

  “There’s no river near here,” Nick pointed out.

  “I know.”

  “And you still feel it?”

  “Yes.”

  Nick’s eyes narrowed on Sam. “It’s a good thing Riley got herself out of Millinger, isn’t it? You’d have used it on Tournado in a heartbeat.”

  Sam’s jaw tensed even more. He held his beer bottle so tightly the label slid and wrinkled. “I’d have done what I needed to do to defend the people I care about.”

  Riley blushed and looked down, fussing with her napkin, but the others didn’t pay any attention to the implication.

  “You’d also have shown him that you have power!” Nick growled. “What do you think would stop him from coming after you if he found out?”

  Sam fidgeted. He looked at Quinn’s sympathetic expression, at Riley, and back at Nick. Then he let go of his beer bottle and rubbed his face with both hands. “You’re right. But obviously, it’s irrelevant right now.” He slumped against the booth. “What are we going to do with all this?”

  Quinn cut into the last bit of her filet. “If there are gods, it needs investigating. We have to find out what Jeannine and John know already.”

  “They won’t talk over the phone,” Sam said. “And neither should we. If Riley’s right and these guys are powerful people in government and business, they could easily be monitoring phone lines.”

  Quinn sighed. “They’ve been watching Anson, right?”

  “Right,” Nick and Sam said together.

  “Let’s assume they know at least as much as we do. We’ll talk to them when we can. But now that we’ve started, we have to keep going with the transfers. I can’t—we can’t just stop with the way things are.”

  Nick nodded. None of them looked happy about leaving this all up to the Society. Riley felt a lot more comfortable with the organization after spending a couple of days there, but she’d also heard enough to understand why they’d feel that way. She also suspected that if Quinn was admitting she had to keep moving with the transfers, things were way more serious than they seemed.

  She suddenly remembered what else she’d heard.

  “Nick, did you know John wants you to take over for him?”

  The simple question had the effect of a time bomb coming to life on their table. Everyone froze.

  When Nick didn’t answer, Quinn turned on him. “Did you know?”

  “No!” He snatched a french fry off his plate and tossed it in his mouth. “I didn’t,” he insisted at Quinn’s skepticism. “I’d tell you right away if I knew for sure.”

  “For sure,” she pounced. “So you knew, even if you haven’t talked to him about it.”

  “Does it matter? I’m not taking the job.”

  Quinn rested her hand on her forehead. “Nick.”

  “Are you all right?” He scooted closer and put his arm around her. “What’s wrong?”

  She straightened and glared. “You’re what’s wrong, you idiot! They assigned you to me permanently, didn’t they? And you’re miserable! You want this job.”

  Oh, boy. Riley didn’t even bother to excuse herself, just moved to slide out of the booth. Sam immediately stood, and in silent agreement, they went outside into the steamy night.

  “Yikes. I opened up a can of worms, didn’t I?” Riley walked along the sidewalk to a bench set out for overflow during peak hours. Once there, though, she realized she didn’t want to sit and kept going. Sam kept pace with her, his long legs swinging in a slow stride.

  “Looks like. Quinn’s probably right about them assigning Nick to her. He’s not the kind of guy to drop out of the Protectorate permanently. And Barbara, the last president, was pretty concerned about Quinn having all that power.”

  “So he’s supposed to be protection against her, too?”

  He grimaced. “Not exactly. Well, probably from the board’s point of view. But he’s been worried about her. And they were apart for fifteen years, one of those want-but-can’t-have situations, so he wouldn’t have left her, anyway. They’d have found some kind of compromise.”

  Riley nodded. “Now…about leaving this gods thing to the Society…”

  “I know.”

  She stopped and looked up at him. “You know what?”

  “Jeannine isn’t the best person to deal with this. Not that we’re better equipped. The repercussions are too vast. And there are way too many open questions.”

  “Right. Like how many are there? How widespread? How powerful? What kind of power do they have? The guys Anson’s working for are obviously shady, to put it mildly, but are there good ones, too? Like, I don’t know, Bill Gates? The President?” She stopped when she realized Sam was smiling at her almost indulgently. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t—I’m not part of this. Of the Society.” Except she was. She might be new, but she belonged to the Society as much as Quinn or any other goddess now.

  But Sam, Nick, and Quinn…they were a team, with a history of working together, and that made her feel like an outsider. She also knew they weren’t the kind of people to stay out of something like this, especially after their history with Anson.

  “You’re dead right,” Sam said. “I’m itching to research them—and more. I want to know how much of a threat they are, or if an alliance can be built. But honestly, Riley, the transfers have to be a priority right now. We’ve set it in motion and I don’t know what would happen if we don’t see it through quickly.”

  She nodded, her heart sinking. The last thing she wanted was to leave Sam again, but she couldn’t get in the way of what they were doing. “I can start driving back tomorrow. Marley said she’d put me up as long—”

  “Are you crazy?” Sam interrupted. “You’re not going back to Boston.”

  “But—”


  “You’re staying with me. With us. Anson’s still after you, and frankly…” He looked up and away, out across the parking lot. “Uh, I could use a friend right now.”

  Riley could tell that was a tough admission for him. She slipped her hand into his, relieved when he entwined their fingers. “Nick and Quinn are your friends.”

  He shook his head. “There are things I can’t talk to them about.”

  “You mean the power residue.” She walked them back to the bench and sat.

  “Yeah.” He blew out a breath full of relief. “What we’re doing…it’s similar to how a leech is made. I knew about the risks, and I don’t regret taking them, but I never counted on feeling this.” He pressed his fingertips to his chest. “I crave it. With only this tiny taste. And I’m not even near Jennifer’s power source. I’m scared about what will happen with Chloe, and the ocean being right there…”

  His hand tightened on hers. The angle put pressure on Riley’s raw wrist, surprising her, but she managed to hold back the moan of pain. She’d moved carefully to avoid letting anyone see the damage to her skin, and especially now, she didn’t want any more of the attention. It was Sam’s turn.

  “I know nothing about this, so I can’t reassure you that everything will be fine. But one thing I do know.” She shifted to look into his eyes. “You and Anson are completely different. You won’t abuse this.”

  “I don’t intend to.” He sat lost in thought for several moments. Riley wasn’t sure what else to say.

  Noise from inside the restaurant signaled the front door opening. Riley glanced over her shoulder and saw Nick and Quinn walking toward them, holding hands.

  Quinn held out a square container to Riley when they got close enough. “I had them box your leftovers. Seemed too much to leave behind.”

  “Thanks.” That meant they’d paid for her meal. She flushed. “I’ll pay you back. I have—” She stopped, acutely aware of how little she did have. “I’m sorry I walked out. I didn’t mean to stick you with the bill.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Nick moved a toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other.

  “It’s our treat,” Quinn assured her so matter-of-factly, Riley would have felt shrewish to argue.