Terran Realm Vol 1-6 Page 15

  “It’s wrong, the earth feels wrong.” His voice was troubled. “I think we may have a bigger worry than KOTE on our hands.”

  *

  Donovan fought to quell the unease nipping at him as he piloted the car through the narrow streets. Why now? Why did his damned Earth Elemental genes have to come to the fore now? This was the worst possible time for his empathy with the earth to break free. It weakened him, split his concentration from what he really needed to be doing.

  And now since Brenna realized they were meant for each other, his heart rested easy on that front. They’d have ample time to learn each other when this was over and done with, and if they didn’t succeed, he would take death as a necessary byproduct of life, having loved, and being loved in return by his mate.

  He shot a look at Brenna, and she still appeared discomfited by his statement. He thought of her words earlier, of how she’d questioned her ability to perform as Warden. Right now there was no one he’d rather have at his back, especially in a time and neighborhood like this. Especially when the people he trusted had dwindled to a scant handful.

  And what of Jenalee, lying dead in his guest room? Julian, broken by the mere suggestion of the things he’d seen and done in Cambodia. Those things had irreparably scarred his soul, left a dark stain on his heart which only lifted when he was with Brenna. And she hadn’t given a damn, after hearing them. In that moment he knew she was more than his mate … she was his redemption.

  And now she was willingly putting her life in his hands because she believed in him.

  He wondered, again, if this was the right time, if he was the right person, to change the status quo. Why shouldn’t he just hand the Sorhineth over? He could deal for Brenna, have the Sorhineth transcribed or something, and they could just leave. Head south for Mexico.

  As soon as the thoughts crystallized, he was ashamed of them. No, now was the time to take a stand. To do what was right, after years of apathy, years of watching things go to hell around him. This was the right thing to do, even if it killed him. He would justify Brenna’s faith in him.

  He turned his attention to the street ahead of him, to the deteriorating neighborhood they were driving through. The Tenderloin hadn’t been hit as hard as the Marina, but the signs of Loma Prieta were there in the listing buildings, the listless street people tucked away in sheltered storefronts.

  This was what he needed to make right, he realized. The City, which had been his true home, no matter where he traveled or how long he was gone. The rebirth of the Terrans had to start somewhere, and he couldn’t think of anywhere better than right here.

  It was a somewhat uncomfortable insight for someone who’d been living for himself for so long. And again he wondered if he hadn’t been so terribly different from KOTE and the Destroyers for the last fifteen years.

  Another tremor, so insignificant as to be unnoticeable by humans, rumbled through the ground, and in it he felt the innate wrongness, as if something was manipulating it, and the earth was trying its damndest to fight it.

  Donovan returned his full attention to the road, his eyes registering the car pulling out of the alley split seconds before his foot hit the brake, bringing the Jag to a shuddering halt. The narrow road before them was blocked by a monstrous Lincoln with its windows blacked out. Donovan weighed his options for about two seconds before making his decision. “Out,” he ordered tersely. “Then I want you to run as fast as you can toward that store. Go straight inside and hide in the back.”

  “No.”

  “Now is not the time to get defiant, goddamn it!”

  “I’m going to stand beside you. We’re going to get out of this alive and do what you planned. You need the Sorhineth. It needs you.”

  Three Terrans exited the Lincoln, and they were huge. They were also his men, he saw, unsurprised after Julian’s comment, the last of his hand chosen crew with power. Brenna had picked a damned fine time to show boldness. These guys were as battle-tested as he, and even with his newfound power, it was a fight they couldn’t win. It was a fight there was no way out of. He voiced his frustration, and a fear that tasted foreign on his tongue.

  “I don’t want to lose you, dammit!”

  “And you won’t.” Her voice was calm, sure. A damn sight more certain than he.

  “Fine, then let’s face this standing on our feet, not sitting on our asses.” He called the spell he knew by rote, casting protection with nothing more than a thought. It came so easily, and for a moment he wondered if it had worked. Then he saw Brenna squirm, much as she had just a few days ago in Boston, and knew he’d laid the ward true.

  And then something prodded the air around them, sending questing, probing fingers against the protection spell around Brenna before being buffeted back.

  She jerked as if struck and cast him a frightened look. “It feels almost the same as with Julian, but damped down by your ward.”

  “I thought you didn’t remember that.”

  “He tried it twice, once when you were fighting him. That’s what I feel right now.”

  Damn. Brenna was susceptible simply by being human. Then another thought struck him.

  “Is that why you asked who could enter your thoughts? Did you think I was doing something similar?”

  She dropped her head for a moment, staring at her hands, then raised it again. “Yeah. I had to know if what I was feeling was true, or being manipulated somehow.”

  “Okay. So we’re back on an even keel?”

  “We were never uneven; that kind of question was just something I couldn't brush aside.”

  Donovan mulled her statement over; she was right. She was the Warden, and had to understand where she stood in anything concerning the Sorhineth. She’d kept her head about her when most people he knew—Terrans included—would have run screaming.

  “All right, what do you say we get this show on the road? As long as you’re under the ward, we should be fine.”

  She nodded and leaned in to place a quick kiss on his lips. Her hand crept around his head and caressed the nape of his neck before she withdrew. “Sounds like a plan to me, Callahan. Let’s rock and roll.”

  Donovan looked deep into her eyes. The future shone brightly in them, confirming everything he needed to know. It would do. She would do. As if he’d ever had any question.

  He stepped out of the car slowly, keeping his hands wide and free. Not that he could do much to harm his ex-employees, but it never hurt to be careful, at least until he figured out how he was going to handle this scenario.

  Brenna joined him at the side of the car, her back straight and true. Love, tinged by just a hint of fear, surrounded her.

  But even more alarming was the sudden burn in his pants pocket, as his key fob pulsed in time with his heart.

  *

  Brenna slung the backpack over her shoulder, her earlier fear evaporating as their secret weapon rested against her back. But her heart, oh no, it still thundered in her chest.

  The three Terrans fanned out in the middle of the street looked like mobsters.

  Brenna sucked in a breath, tasting fumes, the salt of the Bay and the undeniable taint of age and decay.

  No one would step in to aid them here; it would be every man—or woman—for themselves. She shot a glance at Donovan, who looked even more intense than usual, and a little disturbed. She chewed on her lip. Yeah, their element of surprise was shot to hell, but her belief in him as the Spirit Talisman was true.

  They would stick together, of that she was certain.

  As if in response to her thoughts, the wind blasted off the Bay, slicing down the narrow streets, buffeting around her like an angry banshee, seemingly trying to separate Donovan from her. She stood firm and stared straight ahead.

  When one of the gorillas spoke, his voice was surprisingly low, surprisingly gentle.

  “You’ve been summoned by your leader, and ignored your summons.”

  Donovan jerked, his body humming with tension. “What makes you think I
have any interest in KOTE? Until now, you’ve never had any in me.”

  A gravelly, aged voice answered from the still-open door. “Because, young Terran, this moment has been Seen.”

  Donovan froze, as if every muscle had locked in place. Brenna threaded her fingers through his, lending him anything—everything—she had to help them get out of this alive.

  “So I keep hearing. And what was the outcome of that Sight?” Donovan’s voice was clipped, perfectly controlled.

  “That it would come to this moment in time, this moment of decision.” The voice in the car was weary now. “Will you come with us willingly, or shall we destroy what’s left of this neighborhood where we stand?”

  Donovan turned to her, his face drawn in stark lines. “Lhiannan?”

  She forced a smirk. “Do we have a choice? We’ll figure it out as we go. That’s what we’ve been doing so far, right?” She squeezed his hand in support, and the pure, unadulterated heat of his returned clasp seared her down to her soul.

  *

  Donovan’s mind shifted to the purely tactical in an instant. He knew that voice, knew it was somehow tied to the jewels burning hotly in his pocket. But was the old Terran an ally or an enemy? And what was the significance of the man’s gift? What choice did he really have?

  He couldn’t overpower the Terrans standing before them, not without compromising Brenna’s safety.

  So he did the next best thing. It was bitter to be doing the very thing Jenalee and Julian had tried to force upon them, but he could certainly bluff.

  “We’ll accompany you, but only because we choose it. After all, we were going that direction anyway. And with the power of the Sorhineth behind us, I’m sure you realize it is a choice?”

  “Aye, Callahan. Otherwise this conversation would be moot, because both of you would be dead.”

  Donovan forced a sarcastic smile, knowing the Terran in the limousine could see it with his enhanced senses. “Ah yes. Both of your efforts failed.”

  His adversary sighed. “And now KOTE sees what they should have done in the first place. Offered you a position among us. Both you and your Warden.”

  Like there’s a chance in hell of that, Donovan thought sardonically. “We’ll listen. I can’t promise more than that.”

  “Very well. I don’t suppose you’d like to ride with us?” Wry amusement colored the hidden Terran’s voice now.

  “Thank you, no.” Brenna’s response was just as amused. And just as forced. If he hadn’t known her—intimately—he would never have heard the difference. “We’ll follow.”

  “In five minutes,” Donovan said firmly, and stepped back to his open door. Brenna did the same, and with that, their course was set.

  *

  “We’re going to die, aren’t we?” Brenna fought to keep her voice steady as she settled into the passenger seat. She let the familiar smell of the Jag calm her, and the beloved sight of Donovan center her. He’d pulled his key chain out of his pocket, and was running his fingers over the beautiful inset stones.

  Right that second, she didn’t give two hoots about his keys, it was more important than anything to speak her feelings aloud … again.

  “No, we’re not going to die. Give me your mobile.” His eyes openly caressed her, and she knew he was lying. They were going to die.

  Brenna dug into the travel bag and held out the phone, keeping it in her grasp until he turned his attention to her.

  “I love you, Donovan.”

  “And I you, pet.” He didn’t use the endearment lightly, but instead gave it a wealth and depth that made her heart soar. “But don’t get all maudlin on me. We’ll get out of here yet. I’ve been in tighter scrapes than this.”

  He pulled the phone from her fingers and dialed, then propped it between shoulder and ear.

  “Mark, it’s begun. Let me talk to Claire.” He waited a beat, then held the key fob up to the light. “Think fast, wonder-girl. I’ve got a key chain a wicked-old Terran gave me over Thanksgiving as a ‘gift.’ It’s set with stones that look like rubies and diamonds, and they’re huge, four or five carats each, probably worth a fucking fortune. The setting is old, looks handcrafted, gold.” He winked at Brenna. “Whoa, slow down, Claire, I need to relay this to Brenna as you say it, so we’re both on the same page.

  “Okay, yes, they’re triangular, which is what made me think they were semi-precious, rather than the real deal, but now I have to wonder. As an Earth Elemental, they’re calling to me, getting warm when I do specific things. What things? Hell, I don’t remember. Only that it’s not all the time.”

  “Fruits of the earth,” Brenna breathed as a vivid memory struck her, and she scrambled to unearth the journal from her backpack. While Donovan spoke she rifled through the pages. “Here it is!” she crowed, not giving a damn if the Terrans in the car in front of them were waiting or not.

  “Claire, hold on a sec. What did you find?”

  “It’s in the journal … look… One Talisman of each sign will appear when they are needed most by their people and by the world. They will know of their summoning when the fruits of the earth appear before them, and those fruits will enhance their power to the unimaginable.”

  “Damn! You may be right. Okay, Claire, put Mark back on. Mark? You and Claire know what to do.” He reached out for a brief moment and tucked a strand of hair behind Brenna’s ear. “If you don’t hear from us in an hour, kill Julian and contact Terry. As the eldest Kennedy, he’ll know what to do with it until another Warden is born.” Then Donovan held out the phone so she could hear Mark’s answer, much as she imagined Mark and Claire were doing.

  Mark’s voice was choked. “I still don’t feel right about this, Donovan. Let me come to you, fight with you.”

  “No, the Sorhineth is more important than Brenna and I.”

  Mark sighed, but when he spoke, his tone was hard as granite. “All right, but I’ll be expecting a call, telling me it’s all over.”

  “And I look forward to making that call, old friend. Have Claire bind Julian and get the hell out of the City.” He hung up and tossed the phone on the seat behind them, then ran his thumb over the key chain.

  “Where did you get it?” Brenna asked, her voice threaded with excitement.

  “A little over a month ago, from the Terran in the limo. Don’t get excited. For all I know, it’s something to drain what power I have, rather than enhance it, but that’s not what it feels like. When I think about it, it feels right. As if I’m supposed to have it. Until now, I didn’t even realize … but when I think about it, it warmed when I made a good decision or held the Sorhineth.”

  “Given what this says,” Brenna tapped the open journal, “I’d have to say you’re fated for it.”

  “Maybe, but I’m not making any assumptions, even if it’s something that’s been Seen. Now let’s go kick some ass.”

  * * * *

  The Transamerica Building loomed tall and stark above them, and for the first time she saw it as an evil omen, rather than the “welcome to San Francisco” it had been designed as.

  They entered the empty lobby flanked by the three big Terrans and Donovan’s mystery gift giver. Their shadowy-faced summoner was at last revealed as a wizened Terran who looked older than San Francisco. Dressed in an impeccable charcoal suit, he resembled a lawyer or judge. He gave them the once-over and nodded almost imperceptibly before preceding them into the elevator.

  Brenna itched to press him on the key chain, but that was Donovan’s right, and she understood his silence with the three towering Terrans crowding them.

  The elevator was screechingly slow and claustrophobically cramped. Not a word was spoken as they ascended, but the power humming throughout the tiny enclosure was deafening.

  Brenna felt each second tick by as if it were an hour, and for the first time since she’d abdicated her role as Warden half an hour ago, she was glad the Sorhineth wasn’t with her. What she and Donovan were going to do was pure lunacy, a point well argued by bot
h Claire and Mark. But she knew he’d been right. They needed to inflict what damage they could upon the highest echelons of KOTE, get the Sorhineth to her brothers, and let them know a war was on.

  The elevator ground to a halt, and their aged host threw his arm wide, gesturing them through the open doors.

  They entered an atrium which would be sun-filled by day, but now only unrelieved winter darkness pushed at the windows. At this height, even the glow of lights from the city far below them was dim.

  And standing in the room, one hip propped casually against a richly stained teak reception desk was a man Brenna instantly recognized.

  Carlisle Winthrop III, the face of San Francisco reconstruction, owner of one of the Bay Area’s football teams, and all around philanthropist. His taint of Destroyer was just as strong as Jenalee’s, but more cultured somehow, more refined. Nattily dressed in khakis and a button-down dress shirt with a navy dickey, he was the very picture of the cavalier yachtsman.

  But his voice echoed with authority as he pushed away from the desk.

  “Donovan Callahan. The Spirit Talisman. How unfortunate Jenalee saw you as harmless, when you’re everything but. By the time we realized what you were, the wheels were already in motion.”

  Brenna stiffened. Her hypothesis about Donovan had been on the mark. He was the Spirit Talisman. But how had the Destroyer known? She wasn’t sure if she was pleased or mortified of the validation by this … thing.

  Donovan answered easily, as if this were a meeting for cocktails rather than them battling for their very lives. “Winthrop, imagine finally meeting you in the flesh now, after all the times I’ve guarded your players.”

  Winthrop dismissed the Terran muscle and the old man with a flick of his fingers.

  “About Jenalee,” Donovan stated blandly. “You had her for a long while, didn’t you?”

  “Twenty years, at least. As a Singer she was a valuable asset.”

  “An asset, perhaps, but a twisted one,” Brenna broke in. They knew Jenalee and Julian had been in on something together, but Brenna had never gotten the impression it was fully condoned by KOTE. She had a feeling they’d been working together on the side. Had they pushed Julian further, they probably could have uncovered it, but Donovan had wanted to move against KOTE, and she’d agreed with him. Now, though, it was time to play her hunch and see how Winthrop reacted.