Out of Reach (23 page)

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. So you can do anything?”
I exclaim amazed.

“No, there are limitations,” he says,
shaking his head at me. “Some were imposed by the angels when they
made us this way. Just like the Sylph, we cannot kill, cannot
resurrect, and cannot alter free will.”

“What’s altering free will?” I ask. Kade
chuckles to himself like he’s in on some inside joke and I’m
not.

“I know this is the lame ass example they
use in the movies but it really does get the point across. Gwen, I
cannot make you fall in love with me.”

“Come again?” I blurt out, surprised.

“Making someone fall in love with someone
else would be an example of altering free will, an individual’s
freedom of choice.”

“Okay,” I reply, wrapping my head around
this new tangle of information. “What about your mind control
trick—isn’t that altering free will?”

“No. I can implant a new idea. For example,
I can implant the idea Joe thought he saw you at the vending
machine before lunch, but I can’t make him believe it. Joe’s own
mind has to choose to believe the new idea as fact or dismiss it as
fiction.” I nod along finally feeling on the same page. “That’s why
we shy away from using it, the consequences can be devastating when
something goes awry.”

After watching me for several minutes with
my hand still glued to the wall, memorizing the surface with my
fingers, Kade reaches forward, turning me around by the
shoulders.

“Come on. The wall isn’t what I wanted to
show you.”

Looking at the cavern for the first time I
inhale swiftly, amazed. Painted in gold filigree is a monstrous
tree, the branches stretching out covering most of the open wall
space. Pointing in disbelief, I ask, “What is that?”

Kade stands next to me beaming from ear to
ear, his topaz-colored eyes smoldering in his god-like face. Bathed
in the natural light spilling in from the open ceiling he looks
heavenly and my heart skips a beat.

“This is your family tree,” he announces
enthusiastically. A stupid, “Huh,” escapes me. Again.

“Really, Gwen, you need to develop a bigger
vocabulary,” Kade teases. “This is the family tree of the Nephilim.
Every redhead you’ve ever met is recorded somewhere within the
braches of that tree.” He gestures to it proudly.

Running over to the wall I begin tracing the
exquisite golden lines with my hands, noting the names listed along
the way. “This is incredible, but why did you make it?”

“Do you remember I told you that no one had
witnessed a Nephilim exhibiting the powers of old in over a
century?”

“Yes, I remember.”

“Sometime after the last resealing we
realized the bloodlines were becoming so diluted there might not be
a Nephilim powerful enough to help us in the future. So we created
this.”

I cock my head in his direction. “This
allows you to track the strongest bloodlines,” I reason.

“Bingo,” he answers.

Stepping to the center of the room so I can
appreciate the immense creation in its entirety, I ask Kade, “What
happens when you run out of room?”

“We think it bigger,” he replies, the wicked
mirth I love so much sparkling in his eyes.

Chapter 31

The next series of flights are uneventful,
except for my surprise over the discovery that we aren’t really
going to Dubai.

While our cover convention, The
International Conference on Drug Discovery and Therapy is in Dubai,
we will be in Jordan, or Saudi Arabia rather. I mean we will be
landing in Jordan and then disembarking into the Saudi desert.

As a geographically challenged woman, I have
to pull up a map of the area on my smart phone to understand what
everyone is talking about. Other than Saudi Arabia the countries
all appear small on my map, so I reason the drive can’t be that
bad. I’m a tad depressed, though. I’ve heard such wonderful stories
about Dubai; and it’s been featured on the travel channel more than
once. After finding out I won’t be able to scratch it off of my
travel bucket list, I promptly take an Ambien and tune out the
world.

It’s better than
pouting
, I rationalize,
and I really could use the sleep.
Besides, with the entourage I’m traveling with,
I’m beyond safe.

Upon exiting baggage claim,
the intensity of the heat is overwhelming and a thin trickle of
sweat immediately forms between my shoulder blades under the weight
of my heavy hair. The irony of my recent attempts to freshen up in
the airport restroom makes me laugh.
So
much for my vanity.

After the endless hours of flying, I'd
wanted to make myself somewhat presentable before meeting the rest
of the Wanderers. Brushing out my hair and reapplying what little
makeup I'd packed seems to be all for naught right about now.

My fair complexion, coupled with being
unaccustomed to this type of climate, has my hair drenched with
sweat and my fresh coat of pretty running down my face. Dabbing
under my eyes with a tissue I find in my pocket I try to prevent
the appearance of raccoon eyes.

"Are you crying?" Zafir asks at the top of
his lungs.

Slugging the guy I reply, "No, of course
not. I was just having a girl moment." Luckily my cheeks are so red
from the heat that my blush of embarrassment goes completely
unnoticed. Grunting, Z points over to the next awning.

"This way, and stay close." Tromping off
with his usual confident swagger, I do my best to keep up with Z,
who is carrying both of our bags. Kade watches our progress from
the meeting site. While I know he hasn't let me out of his sight
since this whole ordeal began, Kade has allowed me my space. Z, on
the other hand, has taken the opposite approach, never more than
three paces away, constantly barraging me with reminders to keep
close or not to wander off. Although suffocating and irritating as
hell, I've a soft spot in my heart for the gruff, overly confident
Wanderer.

When we finally reach Kade I lift an eyebrow
in a familiar “What gives?” expression. Over the bustle of activity
from the travelers all around us, I'm afraid my question would go
unnoticed.

"Hal is acquiring transportation," he tells
me.

I'll bet he
is
, I think to myself, still reeling from
his disappearing act on the plane. The guy had literally poofed
into smoke and vanished. Grabbing Kade by the shirt I'd demanded to
know what gives. I swear he'd told me only the Sylph can do
that.

Apparently after the angel’s curse only Hal,
his partner Hashim, and Rashid retained the ability to travel by
poof. Okay, so Kade had called it teleportation or something like
that, but I'm sorry, poof is a more descriptive term for what
really happened.

As I watch Hal roll up to us in a white van,
I eyeball the guy warily. Just when I begin to feel comfortable
around the Wanderers, one of them goes and does something to remind
me how dangerous they really are.

“Don’t let Halim bother you. His name means
gentle, and the guy lives up to his name, I assure you," Kade
whispers for my ears alone. I assume he sensed my apprehension.
Kade always has been good at reading me. Nodding, I fearlessly step
into the van after Bass slides the door open.

"Sorry about the tight accommodations, guys.
It was all I could find," Hal tells us from behind the wheel.
Normally I wouldn't call a van tight accommodations, but the six of
us and the luggage barely fit. Wedged up against the window I have
to wiggle in order to breathe.

"Geez, Z, you're putting on weight," I
chastise from where I’m squeezed between him and the window.

"All muscle, baby," he replies giving me a
sly grin.

"It's not much further, Gwen," Hal assures
me, eyes lingering on my reflection in the rearview mirror. Just
then Z leans closer, a feat I'd swear was impossible.

"Say cheese," he says, holding his phone at
arms length to capture a shot of the two of us. "That's going on my
Facebook page," he teases.

True to his word, we reach the outskirts of
town before I pass out—death by masculine suffocation. Last to exit
the vehicle I soon become the center of attention as the rest of
the Wanderers converge upon me. That much muscle coming toward you
all at once, I don't care who you are, it’s intimidating.

I step back reflexively only to find Kade is
directly behind me. Trapped against his chest I school my features
into a mask of serenity while I weather the introductions. Having
been informed about me by phone ahead of our arrival, this
welcoming party is much friendlier than the first two I’d received.
Like me or not these guys had at least been given the opportunity
to make their peace with the situation before I showed up.

The new comers, in order of introduction,
are Nabil, Arif, Fadil, Aziz, Makeen, Rashid, and Hashim. I shake
hands with or receive some acknowledgement of respect from each
before the party breaks up. Free to look around at last, I notice a
contingent of horses being inspected in a paddock to my right and a
military style cargo truck being loaded to my left.

Eyeing the stack of saddles one of the
Wanderers is carrying apprehensively, I hear Kade ask, "You aren't
afraid of horses, are you?"

Glaring back at him I scoff; he knows very
well I don't like horses. My exact sentiment, which Kade has heard
on numerous occasions, is that they're extremely large animals with
a mind of their own. As delighted as my intense unease is making
him, Kade, always the gentlemen, takes pity on me.

"Don't fret. The horses are for us, the
truck is for you."

"Thank you," I whisper, my pride taking a
backseat to my trepidation of having to mount one of those
creatures. We walk to the truck together where Kade leaves me in
Hal's care.

"I didn't mean to scare you on the plane. I
was just having a bit of fun," Hal explains.

"It's alright,” I smile. “Being shocked is
par for the course these last few days."

After tossing a large crate into the back of
the truck, Hal approaches me, his expression thoughtful. Somehow he
feels older to me, more like a father figure than the rest of the
guys. Regardless of my impressions, physically he can't be more
than thirty.

"You're not going by horseback either?" I
ask him.

"Hell no, I'm not getting anywhere near
those devious devils. The automobile was the best invention man’s
ever come up with."

I laugh, instantly latching onto a kindred
spirit.

"Every time we come up here, that lot has to
relive the glory days or some garbage like that." It melts my heart
to see I really do have some similarities and common ground with
these guys, my own small role to play ... maybe I do belong.

Hal tells me not to stray from the truck
then heads back to the vehicle bed to help finish the loading. I
wonder how long it will be before we get moving. Knowing we have
quite a distance to travel gets me thinking that I should probably
find a bathroom before we head out.

Not wanting to bother anyone I head for the
line of buildings closest to the truck, assuming one of them will
be a store or gas station or something with a restroom. One of the
locals snaps a cell phone picture of me as I pass—with my vivid red
hair I know I stick out so I don't think much of it.

The fact that no one speaks English becomes
blatantly obvious when I approach the first vendor. After failing
to successfully communicate with the woman behind the counter, I
notice the guy who took my photo pointing to a building further
down. Repeating my query and pointing he nods and points again.
Hoping he understands me I continue along what passes for a road
until I reach the indicated spot. The front door is closed and
littered with fliers I can't read. As I knock I open the door and
step inside; in the low lighting the shop appears to be empty.

"Hello?" I ask hopefully. Pain explodes in
the back of my head and I drop to my knees. Bright stars flash
before my eyes seconds before I pass out. I never get the chance to
see who or what it was that felled me.

I wake up on my side, head throbbing, in the
back of a moving cart. My hands and feet are bound with coarse rope
that itches but thankfully doesn't seem to be cutting off my
circulation. I'm in no condition to sit up given I likely have a
concussion. The thin fabric tarp covering the wagon could also pose
a problem should I try to rise.

Sucking in several deep breaths I attempt to
steady myself and keep my wits about me. The cart is moving at a
remarkably fast clip for such a shoddy contraption, and I bite my
lip to keep from moaning when we hit a bump or pot hole or the
like.

Hearing voices outside I manage to wiggle so
I'm facing the direction they’re coming from. Scooting forward
slowly I get my head close enough to peak through the large gaps in
the wood. I appear to be traveling with a caravan of some kind but
I have no idea where we are or where we're headed. Straining my
neck toward the voices, I recognize the man with the cell phone
who'd pointed me in the direction of what I thought was a restroom.
He's busy talking with another man on horseback.

Closing my eyes I wonder how long I've been
out and how long it will take Kade or Z to notice I'm missing. We
hit another bump and my eyes fly open. I decide I'd better watch
where we're going to keep from getting motion sick—and to garner
any useful information I can.

The bump from my recent head injury makes it
difficult to focus though, and I drift in and out of things for
awhile. Eventually a commotion rouses me out of my stupor and I
stare through my peephole to see what's going on.

The cart has stopped moving and I can see
that the sun is lower on the horizon, but I have no clue how close
to sunset it is. The men around me are screaming and pointing
toward a hill. Wrenching my neck in that direction I can just make
out four riders on black horses cresting the rise of a near sand
dune.