Apostate

by Frankie Robertson

  Ana squeezed her hand. “Kellan told us what you did. That was pretty impressive. You probably saved all three of you.”

  Tasha frowned. Her memory of what she’d done was a little vague. “It was instinct. Sort of like wanting to pull the covers over my head.”

  Her sister chuckled. “That was some blanket. From what I hear, you left a mystery in your wake. The torn-up asphalt doesn’t look like the results of the explosion.”

  “So the security cameras at the country club didn’t record what I did?”

  “No, they were down. Kellan figures the guy who planted the bomb probably disabled them and Jared agrees.”

  “Thank goodness!” Her life was weird and complicated enough, she didn’t need to be answering questions from the cops and the media about how she lifted a wall of dirt and asphalt.

  Delicious smells were starting to sneak under the door. Tasha’s stomach rumbled.

  Ana stood. “Smells like dinner is almost ready. Do you want me to bring you a tray?”

  “I’ll get up.” Tasha swung her legs over the side of the bed. Ana stayed close enough to catch her if she wobbled, but her balance was fine. “See? Good as new.”

  Ten minutes later, she joined the others at the table after taking a quick shower. Kellan rose from his seat and took her hand, giving her a searching look.

  **How are you?** Concern colored his thoughts.

  **Didn’t Ana tell you? I’m good to go.**

  **She told us, but…** His thoughts became less clear as the echo of his fear for her ricocheted through his heart. **I need to see for myself.**

  She rose on tip-toes to kiss him. She didn’t care that the others were all watching, and apparently neither did Kellan, because he pulled her close and returned her kiss with enthusiasm as relief filled him. Emotion threatened to overwhelm her. He loved her. She’d known that—he couldn’t hide it when they were intimate. She welcomed his love, but it was a lot to take in—and a big responsibility.

  **Don’t scare me like that again,** he whispered into her mind.

  **I make no promises.**

  She felt Kellan’s unhappiness with her response, but her answer had been an honest one. She couldn’t see what the future held, and neither could he. If she had to put herself at risk to save others, then that’s what she’d do. And as for other kinds of promises…that wasn’t something she was willing to contemplate right now. At the moment, Kellan’s lips against hers were all she wanted to pay attention to and her eagerness mollified him somewhat.

  Her muddled thoughts were interrupted by Grace’s high voice. “Auntie Tasha, you can kiss him after dinner. I’m hungry.”

  Dave stopped at a Mini-Mart to grab something to eat. He was heading to the checkout with two dogs in one hand and a coffee to go in the other when a man’s angry voice sent a chill down his back and made his pulse race.

  “What the hell is wrong with you? Get the twelve-pack. It’s cheaper than two sixes. I’m not made of money.”

  Dave glanced over to the chiller cases. A very pregnant young woman ducked her head and put the two six-packs back. When she turned to move to the next door, he saw the poorly concealed bruise on her cheek.

  A million thoughts flew through his mind. This is none of your business. You can’t save everyone. You’re not the Lone Ranger. Don’t call attention to yourself. Julie needs you to stay focused. But Julie could have used some help when Chad was hitting her, as their Mom had, and this woman needed help now. A second later he was standing between the woman and the man. He forced his hands to stay loose, even though his rage demanded he punch the guy in the throat.

  “Go into the bathroom and lock the door,” he said to her in his most commanding voice. She hesitated for a second, glancing at her husband? A quick glance at her bare hand told him they weren’t married. Boyfriend, then. Good. Easier for her to get free of the bastard.

  “Hey! Don’t tell her what to do.” The guy tried to reach for his girlfriend, but Dave expected that and interposed his body.

  “Go,” he ordered her again.

  She went.

  Dave focused all his attention on the dickwad in front of him, adjusting his balance, prepared for an attack. “I don’t care if your boss yelled at you, if your dog just died, or if you’re drunk or sober.” He said in a low, dark tone. “You do not take it out on a woman.”

  “Get the fuck out of my business!” The guy had six inches and fifty pounds on him but the way he tried to use his height and weight to intimidate told Dave he was a bully without much in the way of training.

  The man took a swing at him, but Dave stepped aside and twisted the other man’s wrist behind his back, using his momentum to press him against the glass case.

  “Take it outside! I’m calling the cops!” The clerk’s voice was tight with alarm.

  “Please, do. And tell them you were willing to turn your back on the beaten woman in your bathroom while you’re at it,” Dave sneered. “Leave now,” Dave growled into bully-boy’s ear. “You don’t want a domestic violence charge on your record.”

  “Fuck you!” The guy tried a high-school wrestling move to get free, jostling Dave into a rack of snack bars.

  Dave had dealt with squirmy captives before, though most of them weren’t as well-fed as this doofus. He took him down, pressing him to the floor with an arm lock and a knee in his back. It would be so satisfying to break this guy’s arm, but the paperwork would be horrendous and time consuming. “Would you call the cops already?” He asked the clerk. “I’ve got somewhere to be.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Kellan remained silent throughout dinner thinking about what Landry had revealed about Jasper and how close he’d come to losing Tasha. He couldn’t stop looking at her. He knew she’d come through the experience unscathed, but he had to keep reassuring himself that she was all right. He caught the others smiling to each other, but he didn’t care.

  When he wasn’t thinking about Tasha’s close call, he was ruminating on the fact that someone had told Conrad Altesse that Jasper was ready to go rogue and was ripe for recruitment. Who would do that? Who would even know? Ezra? Not possible. Even if he’d seen that in Jasper, he’d have reported it to the Council, not Altesse. Kellan had been Jasper’s partner, and he’d never seen that. Only someone on the U’dahmi Council or an Examiner like Ezra would have looked deeply enough into his mind to suspect something like that.

  If it was even true.

  Landry believed it, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been lied to. Kellan had known Jasper was dissatisfied with certain Council policies. So was he. That didn’t mean they were willing to turn their backs on their U’dahmi vows.

  There was no good reason to darken the tone of the lively dinner conversation especially with Grace at the table, so he kept his mouth shut and tried to listen to what was being said.

  “You have a priority account with FedEx don’t you, Jared?” Ana asked. At his nod, she continued. “Would you mind sending a package for me to Dave? He needs it ASAP.”

  “Sure, I can have it picked up at your place first thing tomorrow. What is it?”

  “He asked me to put a magical tracker on half a dozen money wrappers for hundred dollar bills.”

  Cassie’s brows rose. “I thought he went to visit his sister?”

  “He did,” Jared said. “Apparently her ex got her tangled up with some missing drug money. I ran some prints and dug up some other information for him, too.”

  “Oh, no! Should we send some of your security people out there to help him?”

  “If he asks, I will. Right now, I think he wants to handle it himself.”

  “Stubborn man,” Cassie said.

  Ana smirked. “Aren’t they all?”

  Gideon pressed an open hand against his chest. “I’m wounded. Gentlemen, I think we’ve been insulted.”

  “Just an acknowledgement of fact, my dear.” Ana leaned over to kiss him.

  An hour later, the kitchen was clean and they were all sitt
ing in the great room. The ladies, including Grace, were discussing the new styles presented at Fashion Week in Milan, and Jared was telling Gideon why he should start an education fund for his as yet to be conceived children. It was surreal in its normalcy. They could have been any extended family, not a collection of preternatural beings trying to solve a murder. Not that anyone was solving anything at the moment. It didn’t seem right that he was just sitting around, but having Tasha beside him on the sofa, alive and well, soothed his restlessness.

  Grace hugged everyone goodnight and Cassie was about to take the little girl to get ready for bed when Kellan’s phone rang. It was Morgan.

  “How’s Ms. Kaminski doing?” the detective asked without preamble.

  Kellan pulled her tight with an arm around the shoulder, showing her the phone’s screen. “Much better. A long nap worked wonders. Do you have more questions?”

  “Always. I received Jasper’s preliminary autopsy report from Dr. Hernandez. The cause of death was a broken neck, just as we expected.”

  “Okay. I’m putting you on speaker. I’m at Jared’s house.” When Morgan didn’t continue he prodded, “And?”

  “And the doc says there are some anomalies. Apparently, there’s a much lower concentration of some neurotransmitter in the brain tissue than she’d expect to find in someone who was tortured. She said it looked like brain activity ceased well before the body died, almost like someone who’d been kept on life-support for organ harvesting. But there are no physical indicators that would explain that finding.”

  A chill raced through Kellan’s body as the implications of Morgan’s words struck home.

  Jasper could be alive.

  Dave sat in his truck, lights off and engine cold, watching the run-down 1950’s bungalow. He’d tailed the third guy from his place to a pizza joint, then on to this house. Three cars were already parked out in front. The address belonged to two of the four guys who’d tossed Chad’s place.

  Stakeouts were easily the most tedious part of a private investigator’s work. Worse, the hours of watching left too much time to think. Right now Dave was thinking too much about the woman at the Mini-Mart. The cops had looked at the security camera footage and seen her boyfriend take the first swing at Dave, noted her bruised face, and arrested the guy for public intoxication and assault. The young woman had glared at Dave and said, “This is all your fault.”

  The cop taking down Dave’s information just shook her head. “They’re like that sometimes. You can’t help them until they want it.”

  Dave blew out a deep breath, trying to release his frustration along with it. He wasn’t sorry he’d stepped up. It had been the right thing to do, even if it had been a waste of time. And who knows, maybe the girl would call the number the cops had given her for the local women’s shelter.

  Half an hour later the cops were gone, leaving Dave with his now cold hot dogs and coffee.

  “You don’t have to pay for those,” the clerk said.

  That’s big of you, Dave thought, but kept his mouth shut as he stalked out of the store and got into his truck.

  It had taken everything he had to not buy the twelve-pack of beer the asshole had demanded his girlfriend get. Worse, as he’d driven away, he’d passed a liquor store. His resolve had crumbled and he’d pulled in to snag a fifth of Jack. The blessed numbness would let him forget the sagging features of his father’s face as he died on the kitchen floor. Forget all the faces of the people he’d killed. But instead of getting out of his truck, he’d stared at the bright lights inside and called Julie. They hadn’t talked long. Just hearing her voice reminded him why he was here.

  Dave shook his head and returned his attention to the run-down bungalow. Nothing had changed and his mind wandered back to the Mini-Mart. It hadn’t been his douchebag father he’d held down tonight. It had been Hal Swinbourne whose features had been twisted in that all too familiar fury, and he was still very much alive. His girlfriend might not appreciate it, but she wasn’t going to get hit again. Not tonight anyway.

  After four hours of watching and thinking, two of the four men left. Dave followed the one he hadn’t tailed before, but the guy didn’t go anywhere interesting like his boss’s headquarters. He pulled into the parking lot of a run-down apartment building and let himself into one of the units. The lights stayed on for an hour, then went dark.

  It was time to call it a night. When he parked in front of the Hilton, he texted Jack that he was on his way up. He didn’t want to get shot by accident.

  Dave let himself in quietly to the adjoining room, so he wouldn’t disturb Julie. There was just enough light to see that Pete and Alex were asleep, each in one of the two queen beds. A light shined under the connecting door and soft voices murmured in conversation from the next room. When he pushed the door open he saw Jack sitting on the sofa close to Julie, their shoulders touching, his hand covering Julie’s where it rested on his knee.

  What’s this all about?

  For a split second, no one said anything. Dave turned and carefully closed the connecting door to hide the fact that he didn’t know how he felt about the situation. Julie was his sister, but Jack was one of the best guys he knew. And what right did he have to dictate what either of them did? When he turned around, Julie had pulled her hand back into her lap.

  “What did you find out?” Jack asked without a trace of self-consciousness.

  “Not much. For a bunch of criminal low-lifes, they live a pretty boring existence. Someone must have put the fear of God into them to keep a low profile.” Dave looked between Julie and his friend. She seemed completely relaxed, and Jack, while alert as a bodyguard should be, didn’t seem the least bit concerned that he’d just been caught canoodling with Dave’s sister.

  He hauled that line of thought up short. Canoodling? Really? Where had that expression come from? I sound like somebody’s great aunt.

  “How much longer will Alex and I have to stay here?” Julie asked, though with less frustration than Dave would have expected. Maybe canoodling with Jack was a calming influence.

  Dave lifted one shoulder in a kind of shrug. “I don’t know. Not too much longer. I hope we can wrap this up by the end of the week. I know you want to get home. And Jack and Pete have lives to get back to.”

  “I’ve got my classes covered, and I can check in with the dojo by phone. I’ll stay until we know Julie and Alex are safe.”

  Dave couldn’t keep a small smile from curling his lip. “Thanks. I appreciate that. And I know Julie does, too.”

  Kellan was changing into his running shorts when Tasha came out of the bathroom. He was doing it again: dealing with everything on his own instead of treating her like a partner.

  “If running will clear your head and your heart, go for it. But maybe I can help.”

  Kellan paused with his t-shirt gathered in his hands. His gorgeous body was distracting but it was the pain in his eyes that made her cross the room to snuggle against his muscular chest.

  **Let me help.**

  “You’ve done enough, chérie.”

  He didn’t reply mind-to-mind, but she heard the echo of his fear for her anyway. “The explosion wasn’t your fault. And I’m fine. I’m glad I was there.”

  “Well I’m not! You could have died!”

  “But I didn’t. I protected myself, and you and Landry, too. Let it go.” She leaned back so she could look him in the eye. **That’s not all that’s bothering you. Spill.**

  He hesitated then said, “You heard what Morgan said.”

  He was trying to keep his distance. She wasn’t going to make it easy for him, so she spoke into his mind again. **It’s a weird anomaly, but why would low neurotransmitters upset you?**

  **The early brain death means Jasper may be alive!** Anguish colored his declaration.

  **Wait, what? And shouldn’t you be happy about that?**

  **No. If his body was growing weak, he might somehow have managed to transition into one of the people who tortured him. Wh
en he left his old body the thinking part of the brain would have died before the body did. I doubt his captors would have volunteered the way Deborah and Dimitri did, so Jasper would have had to possess a man against his will. That’s a capital crime for an U’dahmi. No extenuating circumstance can justify that. Ever.**

  The horrific memory of Jasper’s tortured body floated close to the surface and she plucked it from Kellan’s mind. **Not even that?**

  He groaned. **Not even that. Our survival must never be considered a higher priority than a human’s right to choose his own path.**

  **Even if that human’s choices are evil?**

  **Especially then. If a man no longer has freedom, he can’t redeem himself.**

  **Possession is bad. We agree on that. But does Jasper have to be a rogue? Couldn’t there be some other explanation?**

  **If he were innocent, he would have contacted me. If he’s alive, I’ll have to end his existence.**

  Tasha closed her eyes as grief for him filled her heart. She kissed his chest as his arms tightened around her. **I’m so sorry.**

  **I have to find him. I should be the one to do it.**

  **If he’s actually alive.** She paused then added. **Cassie might be able to help figure that out. Or Jared. Come to bed. We can ask tomorrow.**

  He nodded, but didn’t release her. They stood that way for several minutes, with her cheek resting on his warm chest and his arms around her. She rubbed his back with long strokes, listening to the steady beat of his heart. His mind was silent and she knew that meant he’d closed himself off from her again. She wished he would let her in, but she couldn’t fault him for it. He’d only shared himself fully with other U’dahmi for a very, very long time. That he let her in at all meant a lot and she’d take what he was willing to give. She wanted more. She wanted all of him. But she was willing to wait.