Ryder on the Storm (7 page)

Certain Lucian had the seraphs occupied, Ryder snuck around the side of the manor. He opened a window and climbed into the formal dining room beside the study. Touching the adjoining wall, Ryder could feel the girl easily. She projected loudly. Anger, frustration, a touch of sorrow, perhaps, but mostly confusion. Ryder slipped into the hallway and peered through the open door of the study. She sat on the old sofa, her chin jutted out, staring at nothing in particular. Her name, what was her name? It finally came to him, Storm, the niece who’d been cast out. Ryder found that unlikely. This girl had the Sight, and something more.

Storm

She had no idea who would be at the door. A religious fanatic? Somebody who didn’t know Aunt Trin was dead? A girl scout? Storm didn’t think any option more likely than the other. Still, she relished the distraction from the startling news, and influx of emotion she’d just encounter. Storm did not like the loss of control that came with emotions. Sure she’d been considered odd her entire life but there had been a certain convenience to feeling nothing. Storm approached every situation, even incredibly volatile ones, with cool indifference. She couldn’t remember overwhelming heartbreak or sorrow, nothing more than a pang when her own mother passed. But she’d never known love either. That pesky voice in her head always reminded her of the shortcomings. Now, emotions were awakening inside her in the most unsettling way. She felt off balance and awkward with no concept of how to control the emotions or the influx of power that accompanied them. Storm actually struck the guys. Dan and Shane, her oldest friends in the world. But they had lied, she reasoned, they knew about her all along. She could have used their support, could have used their aid to handle her visions correctly. Hell, as seraphs they could have helped in a million ways. They lied about themselves.

Anger. What a strange sensation. She should have felt anger when her mother took her own life. Or when her father left. Or when Aunt Trin was murdered. But no, not Storm, the unfeeling wonder. All of a sudden she could feel. And now, well, now she felt like – somebody was watching her. Storm turned slowly toward the study’s entrance. She gasped and put a hand over her mouth, in a characteristic Trin action. Him, bloody hell, He stood there just inside the doors with the most scrutinizing look upon his face. Such a gorgeous face, and somehow familiar. He looked surprised for a brief moment and then nothing, stoic – flat affect her psych books would say – but beautiful. Utterly and completely beautiful.

“Why are you here?” Her voice sounded shakier than she’d intended. He continued to stare, unmoving, gorgeous. A different emotion started to develop in the pit of her stomach. Storm asked again, exuding more confidence with her second attempt. Still nothing from her stranger.

Finally, he spoke, “Hello, Storm.” Yes, that voice. Velvet and steel all at once. His jeans were stylish but needed a belt, they were slung low on his hips and the black thermal shirt didn’t quite reach the waistband so she saw enough to know he wore nothing beneath those designer jeans. Wow, yes, the unusual feeling in the pit of her stomach certainly reacted to that knowledge. He sauntered over, exuding a unique combination of confidence and purpose. Storm could not move. He stood before her, eyes piercing hers in the most relaxing way. She felt him trying to probe her head, wait – No. Get out of my head. Storm pressed hard against him, reinforcing her mental walls. He recoiled quickly and frowned at her.

“Who are you? I had a vision of you.” Oops. Good job Storm. That one just slipped out. Dammit.

“I am Ryder Cohen. Your Aunt Trin and I were – acquaintances. I came to pay my condolences.” He shifted uncomfortably and continued to stare at her. Still, Storm could not get a read on him. His nearness affected her. She reached out and touched his arm, a jolt shot through her. His eyes flared.

“I have to leave. Your friends are returning. I would advise against mentioning me to them. Jealousy would not be your only issue.” He took her hand and pressed it to his lips. They were so warm. The electricity that passed between them as undeniable as her instant attraction to him. And then he left.

Storm sat back on the sofa. Her mind reeled. So much information in such a short time and now the questions warred for top priority. Dammit. What had she gotten into?

“Still angry with us, babe?” Shane stepped cautiously into the study, Dan at his heels. Storm turned to face them, they looked different now. Hard to explain and unfair, sure, but as her feelings unfurled, Storm couldn’t seem to convince herself of anything other than pure emotion. She still sort of saw the glow around them.

“Who was at the door?” Storm worked hard to keep her voice even, to press that strangely satisfying sensation in her abdomen from flaring at the mere thought of Ryder Cohen. Dammit, just thinking his name brought his face to mind and – stop that. She forced an awkward smile and hoped they bought it as shock from finding out they were angels.

“Nobody important. We figured you may have some questions for us. Would you like to talk now or do you still need a little time?” Shane sat beside her allowing his hand to settle near the small of her back.

“I am still angry guys. This, well, this is a lot to accept. You could have told me ages ago and saved a lot of trouble. It would have been nice to have somebody to confide in too.”

Dan knelt on the floor in front of her again, “Storm, honey, how would you have handled it? You may not have been able to see us at all since Trin bound so much of your power. But now, your visions are getting worse and you are starting to feel. I think you are going to have to pick up on the acceptance part of this and move on to a solution.”

“Could I just have a moment? I mean, what are you guys? Angels? Fallen angels? What’s the proper term here? How could I have the visions with my powers bound? Why are they coming back so slowly? How do I have no control over any of it?” Storm looked from one to the other, forcing a questioning expression to her face since her body was still in high sexual alert from her encounter with Ryder. The flutter returned to her gut and she put it in check by pushing thoughts of Ryder out of her mind.

“Seraphs. We like to be referred to as seraphs. Angel sounds so girly, don’t you think?” Dan tried very hard to sound matter of fact with a touch of irony. She found it unnerving.

“Yeah, that’s what I would be worried about, sounding girly.”

“Good to know your sarcasm is still working just fine. Listen, we know this is a lot to wrap your mind around but we only know some of the answers. Right now, the most important thing is making you understand how much danger you are in.” Shane stood and looked down at her intently, “Storm, we love you, we do, but we are here to protect you first and foremost. To do that, you need to tell us about your recent visions. It is going to be nearly impossible to mask your aura now that you have unlocked all of your power. We need to know what, and who, could be coming for you.”

“I don’t see much about me. A warehouse, knives in the dark. It changes a bit from time to time.” Storm tried to sound nonchalant but this whole thing felt more than a little freaky. A sense of foreboding took hold deep in her gut, quickly eradicating the remnants of lust she felt from Ryder. It appeared that seeing her death would be the least of her concerns. Once word of her got out, Storm Sullivan, the Emerald Seer, would be the most sought after person in the supernatural world. Dammit.

“Okay, we don’t know everything about you or what you are capable of. We know that your aunt bound your emotions to bind your power when you were five. That’s why your mother was such a wreck when you started having visions, they should have been bound with the rest of your powers. We still are not certain how you continued to have them since most Seers’ visions are tied to their emotions and their emotional read on a particular situation.” Dan stood to stretch his legs, apparently giving her a moment to grasp all of that information, “So, Trin bound your emotions, the thought being that if you did not feel you could not exercise your Sight or any of the powers that you would develop as you aged. You however are an anomaly, Storm. Your visions are not tied to your emotion though it appears some of your other talents are. With Trin’s death your true talents will emerge with your emotions. We are hopeful that it will help you control your visions and the pain they cause.”

“So, wait. Aunt Trin put a whammy on me and made me an unfeeling freak so that I wouldn’t feel anything but I still got painful, mind-splitting visions anyway? Awesome.” Storm knew she sounded childish but she couldn’t help it. Stupid emotions, just like going through puberty again. Yet she continued, “And, to really drive things home, nobody knows what I may be capable of once everything is restored in me. What the hell? Shouldn’t there be a manual for this sort of thing?”

“Storm,” Shane’s turn to lay down his take on things, his voice took on that condescending tone he usually reserved for impersonating an authority figure, “Trin loved you. She tried to protect you. She kept us in your life, she let you go when you needed to run but kept tabs on you all the time. She feared you being the Emerald Seer. Trin researched everything she could find on the Emerald and the Immortal Prophecy. Honestly, what would you have done?”

“I would have told the truth. I wouldn’t have gotten myself killed without explaining first. Hell, I would have done a lot of things different.” Okay, so she sounded a little self-righteous, who knew what she would have done, probably the same thing. Dammit. It didn’t make this any easier to swallow. “So what, I am the Emerald Seer? The one born to end the line of Immortals? Really? You guys buy into all that? I grant you I have some freaky mojo going on with my emotions being unlocked and I have always been able to deliver a wicked curse when I put my mind to it, but I would have to believe in the prophecy first and then I would have to believe I had the power to pull off something that ridiculous. Look at me. I am a waitress and a cartoonist.”

“No, babe, you are not. You never were. I think you should take a stroll back through your studio. Then, unlock the secret room behind the dresser in Trin’s room.” Dan sounded serious. It seemed so strange to look at them now, knowing they had wings and were celestial beings. “We cannot tell you everything, a lot of it we know nothing about, some of it you need to unlock yourself, to remember on your own time, but you cannot put it off anymore. The Immortals know you are here. One was just at your door. It is only a matter of time and we cannot protect you from the entire force of the Immortal Brethren. Believe me, whether you believe in them or not, they believe in you and I can pretty much assure you that they have no desire to kiss their immortality good bye.”

Storm waited for the laughter, clearly humor had returned to the situation, really, immortal brethren tracking her to kill her? “Okay, sure, a band of immortal boys are hunting me down as we speak so I can’t take away their eternity. Can we get ready and go out for dinner now?” Storm stood and looked down at them, forcing a casual smile and a bored expression.

“Storm, this is serious. You are in some deep shit here.” Shane folded his arms across his chest. Both brothers looked disapproving.

“Come on guys, this is ridiculous. I am okay with you being ang- I mean, seraphs, you are not the first I have met, though I am curious about how and why you kept it from me. I have met banshees and warlocks and witches and sirens and several other supernaturals. I even met a guy who claimed to be an original demigod. But never in all my travels have I come across an Immortal. They are practically mythical. That ridiculous prophecy is just a silly story. My best guess is that my ancestors made up the Emerald Seer story to protect our line and secure our place in the hierarchy of supernaturals.” Storm folded her own arms across her chest in defiance, okay so she really did seem to be channeling her inner teen.

“If it is such a silly tale, then why did you run ten years ago?” Dan raised an eye brow, his eyes flashing silver. “Something happened. None of us knew what but you took off and that means something frightened you.”

Storm felt her shoulders go lax, her whole body succumbed in defeat, and she slumped back to the couch. Dammit. Tell them the truth or confess to fear of the prophecy. She weighed her options. Shane poked at her mind so she clamped down a wall.

“Well done, babe. But you know we know when you lie, right? Like yesterday when you had the vision and sent us for food?”

Storm looked up into his eyes; Shane was smiling broadly, a gotcha expression on his face. She knew hers read question mark. “Seraph skill. We can tell truth and lies.”

Well hell’s bells. “So wait, all those times, you mean, -“

“Yep. Every time, babe. It was pretty fun to mess with you though.” Shane’s chuckle shook his body a bit and Dan echoed his sentiment. She should have hit them again. Storm considered it.

“Come on, babe. Don’t be mad. We protected you. A lot. We didn’t betray your whereabouts to Trin. We kept tabs on you and let her know you were alright but never told her where you stayed. That should count for something.” Shane touched her arm gently. “Babe, we are on your side. Really, we are. Your own personal guardians. So you are going to have to talk to us.”

“This is a lot to take in, guys. I really want to go out for dinner and just table all of this for a bit. Can we do that? Please?” Storm batted her eyelashes playfully and watched as their faces melted into relaxed smiles again.