Ryder on the Storm: Emerald Seer I (14 page)

“I was with her long enough to sense a fair amount of power, perhaps somebody else has picked up on it? She has been gone for years, maybe it is a former flame seeking to reclaim her now that Miss Sullivan has come into a bit of wealth. Who knows?” Ryder worked to sound as nonchalant as possible. “I apologize for the lack of immediate answers, Roane, but I am certain I can gather the information we need within a day or two. I have disbanded the team on her detail and will take over the project myself. In the meantime, I am certain she is quite secure. Storm Sullivan is protected by two seraphs and I doubt they will allow her to leave the grounds until this is resolved. It will be much easier to protect her there.” Ryder refused to break eye contact with Roane. He worked to keep an air of indifference as Roane weighed the information carefully.

“You have created quite a mess, Ryder. You have forty-eight hours to clean it up and complete your mission with the Sullivans. Should you fail, I have been charged with handling this as I see fit.” Roane stood, brushed his pants off, and adjusted his shirt. “I will leave you to it. Oh, and I will see myself out.”

Ryder nodded in agreement. Once Roane turned toward the door, Ryder exchanged a significant glance with Pollux who chimed in casually, “Actually, Kell and I were just leaving, we are looking at a rental property on the east side in an hour. Later Lucian, Ryder.”

Kell nodded and waved as they followed Roane out. Ryder stood and walked to where Lucian sat. He tapped his friend on the shoulder and gestured for them to vacate the study as well. Lucian followed silently down the hall, through a secret passage, into Ryder’s training room.

“I am going to have the study debugged. We are safe to speak here though. What happened with Roane?”

“Brother, I loathe that man. He has it in for you. What did you do to piss him off?” The fire flashed behind Lucian’s eyes briefly but receded.

“I wish I knew. There has always been animosity between him and me. I just thought he felt that way about everyone.” Ryder shrugged, well half shrugged as his arm still did not seem to be functioning normally yet. “I am more worried Storm right now. I have two days to heal myself, figure out who else is hunting her and why they want her.”

“Brother, have you ever considered that Roane sent those men?” Lucian leaned against the weapons table and casually folded his arms across his chest. “If he hates you so intensely it would make sense for him to discredit you. Roane could press for your exile if he is aware you were intimate with Trin Sullivan.”

“It has occurred to me, yes. But this is not his style. Those creatures were bred. If Roane had created Were-hybrids the Immortals would have known.” Lucian looked skeptical. “Think about it Lucian, he would need money, resources, and Were infants to carry this out. At the very least, the monks would have noted his absence and you know they are true to the brethren as a collective more so than any individual among us.”

“That’s true, brother. So Roane did not do this. Who does that leave? Some other supernatural group who managed to piece together that Storm Sullivan is the Emerald?”

Ryder realized he was pacing again. Lucian just watched him, half a smirk on his face. “You are really keyed up over this girl. What is the deal?”

Ryder leaned against a dummy. “I really do not know. I do not understand it. I am drawn to her. When we touch it is charged, like the air around us surges with power. That is not quite right either.”

“Was it ever like that with Jasmine?” Lucian always softened when he mentioned Jasmine. It had been a tender subject for so long that Ryder imagined it had become a programmed response.

“No. No it was not.” Ryder sighed. “I think I am going to regret this, but I believe you had the right idea when you mentioned working with the seraphs. They have known her since childhood and may have some idea as to who is behind this. Think you would accompany me? Storm may be less likely to kick me out with you present.”

Lucian found that amusing. In fact, he laughed all the way to Willow Wood.

Storm

Fluttering wings? Storm stood on a beach, the ocean waters lapping at her feet, sun warming her skin, and all she could hear were fluttering wings. She didn’t see any birds. The fluttering seemed louder than a fly but she swatted at the air around her ears anyway. Then the ocean receded. The sun disappeared behind a massive storm cloud. Aunt Trin stood beside her.

“This is a dream.”

“Yes.” Aunt Trin’s voice seemed to echo across the beach.

“You are still dead?”

“Yes. But I am still with you.” Her voice became clearer. She turned to face Storm and smiled that familiar smile. “You are so beautiful, Storm. Your powers are coming along well. I held them off as long as I could.”

“Who, Aunt Trin? Who did you hold off?” Storm knew she needed this information but the fluttering grew louder and her aunt started to fade.

“Wake up, Storm.”

“No, Aunt Trin, don’t leave yet, you have to tell me. Who?”

“Storm? Storm, wake up, babe.”

Shane came into focus. His wings flapped gently behind him. Storm blinked several times.

“Storm, honey, wake up.” Dan’s voice echoed through her head and she opened her eyes fully. Shane knelt beside her bed and Dan stood behind him, both with their wings out.

“Sorry, babe, but you had the door magically sealed somehow so we had to enter through the window. I will patch that up, at least magically for now, but right now I would love to know how you held that seal in such a deep slumber. We have been trying to wake you for half an hour.” Shane stroked her arm gently, his warmth soothing.

“I saw Aunt Trin. She tried to warn me. You guys woke me too soon.”

“Storm, you have been asleep for well over twelve hours. We were worried. Plus, you have some serious explaining to do.” Dan nodded toward the window and frowned down at her.

“I know. I get it. A lot happened last night but I don’t understand all of it. I found Aunt Trin’s secret room and I intend to go through it later today, but first, I want to go through my studio.” Storm hopped out of bed, right past the brothers and walked to her bedroom door. She wasn’t sure how the spell over the door worked, didn’t really remember casting it, but smiled when she touched the knob and it opened.

Across the hall in her studio, Storm flicked on the overhead lights, curious as to why it seemed so dark. The wall of windows that looked out over the orchard usually provided excellent light at this time of day. Paintings and photos still covered the easels and every available wall space. The picture windows were all covered with blackout curtains, a new addition since she’d left. Sculptures and all of her old media still covered the shelving units. Everything should have been covered with dust after this long, the paints all dried up. Instead, it appeared that everything had been meticulously cared for in her absence - fresh tubes of paint, unopened packages of charcoals and pastels, brand new brushes and even some blank canvases in various sizes. Storm sighed. A tear escaped her eye and rolled down her cheek. Aunt Trin knew she’d return.

Storm walked from easel to easel, running her fingers along each piece. Something else was different, some of the pictures were older and she noticed that some of the easels had been shifted. Storm could not find rhyme or reason to the changes and in the end chalked them up to whatever cleaning had been done. Trin wanted her to see the studio and know she’d been missed, that had to be it.

“Did you find anything, Storm?” Dan and Shane appeared in the doorway, wings tucked away.

“Just a reminder that Aunt Trin loved me and knew I would be back.” Storm smiled. “Come on, I found the hidden room. It is absolutely amazing.”

“Babe, we’d love to, but we have company.”

“What?” Storm went to full alert, “Now who?”

“Babe, calm down. They are here to speak with us. Why don’t you go on to her room and we will handle the Immortals.” The guys turned to walk away.

Storm seethed, “Do not let them in my house. I told Ryder he is never to enter my home again.” Rage rose in her stomach again, her fingertips warming in response. She knew without looking that her appendages were glowing golden.

“Calm down. Please, relax. They have information that could keep you safe and they have pledged to protect you. Storm, you apparently have a lot of enemies so you need as many allies as you can get.” Dan walked slowly toward her, always logical one.

“I do not want him in my house. I loathe him.” Storm put on her best pout; it had worked dozens of times in the past with them.

“Nope, sorry, no pouts today. You were attacked last night, if not for that man down there who knows what would have happened. Whether you like it or not, you owe him, babe.” Dammit, Shane always took her side. If he was on the Immortal’s side she had no hope of winning this one. “Besides, methinks you do not loathe him as much as you claim.”

Dan’s eyes widened with understanding, “Hell, I want to shake the hand of the man who can make our Storm turn eight shades of red.”

“You are both incorrigible. Do what you like, I simply loathe the man. I will be in Aunt Trin’s room. He has fifteen minutes to give you the goods and remove himself from my home.” Storm turned on her heel and headed for her aunt’s room. She could hear the guys conferring over whether or not the Immortal had tamed the beast. Storm slipped into the boudoir and slammed the door before she could hear them refer to her loss of virginal status in yet another off color analogy. She leaned against the door and exhaled. A fizzle of golden energy welled in her fingertips but she shook it off. Seemed she was mastering her new skills fairly well, other than sending Ryder through her bedroom window. He deserved it though.

Storm surveyed her aunt’s room. The furniture, a fabulous mish mash of antique pieces including a turn of the century four poster bed, had all been refurbished by her aunt. Antique lace curtains billowed lightly in the cool breeze from the windows. Storm could smell Aunt Trin’s perfume, her own special blend, and inhaled deeply – a combination of florals with amber undertones. Making her way around the armoire, Storm slipped inside the walk in closet. Aunt Trin loved clothes and shoes. A massive organizational unit had been installed at some point but the sheer mass of clothing and footwear overtook every inch except for a narrow pathway down the middle. Past the heavy winter coats and shelves of hat boxes Storm located the small switch she’d found the day before while hiding. Flipping it up caused the wall of hat boxes to swing outward just enough for a person to slide through.

The room was modern and twice the size of the closet. Storm figured her aunt must have had the upgrades done recently though the room had to have been built with the original second floor. Monitors lined the far wall and showed various points in the house. A control panel sat before it with knobs to control volume and clarity as well as adjust the camera angles. This seemed intense; Aunt Trin had clearly grown paranoid over the last ten years. Storm sighed; guilt flared briefly but subsided with the memory of why she’d left. The side walls were laden with books, volumes Storm had never seen, and scrolls, some so old they were disintegrating at the edges. Storm turned back to face the door. A tall mirror leaned against the wall beside the portal. The ornamental frame reminded Storm of a Renaissance piece. To the left sat a small apothecary chest with neatly labeled drawers – all in Aunt Trin’s hand. Several cloaks hung from decorated hooks to the right of the mirror, a lovely emerald velvet one stood out against the rest. Storm moved to touch it but stopped as a familiar voice registered in her head. Dammit.

Whirling around, she scanned the monitors. Sure enough, Ryder and his friend sat in her study opposite Dan and Shane. Storm crossed the room and settled in the leather executive chair before the control panel. She turned up the volume for the study in time to hear Shane respond to whatever Ryder had asked.

Ryder

“She’s alright, shaken up a bit, I think. Physically unharmed though.” The seraph shrugged. He did not seem to be giving the whole story. Ryder nodded tightly. He knew the seraphs felt for her as well, likely the source of tension in the room. They must know what occurred in the dining room the day before.

The other seraph spoke up, Ryder turned to face him, “What we really want to know is what you did to piss her off.” Ah. There it was.

“I handled some things poorly. I met the wrong woman first. Though, I believe I may have been misled somewhat.” Ryder made a point of speaking clearly and turned slightly to face one of Trin’s cameras. He really hoped Storm had found the room and decided to take a chance. “Are we laying all cards on the table now? For Storm’s sake?”

Lucian shifted at his side. He did not fully approve of this part of the plan but Ryder could not see another. It had after all been Lucian’s idea to team up with the seraphs in the first place. He simply elaborated on the plan to allow a possibility for reconciling with Storm.

“Agreed.” The seraph, Dan, spoke for the pair. Ryder liked Shane better, more laissez faire in his approach to life and likely easier to win over on the matter at hand.

“Lucian and I have no intention of harming Storm. We are unsure of the intentions of the rest of our Brethren but they cannot make a move until I openly fail in an attempt. I have been given forty-eight hours to resolve the issue. I have two other Immortals in the vicinity who will join us if we call on them. We have been unable to figure out who sent the Were-hybrids after her yesterday. We have something that may help however.” Ryder nodded to Lucian who smiled knowingly and disappeared into the hall. Taking advantage of the slight break, Ryder addressed the seraphs on a separate issue, hoping that Storm was watching. “I did not murder Trin Sullivan. Please tell Storm. I had no part in it.”