ShiftingHeat (9 page)

Andros put his crutches into action and swung forward. He
ruthlessly connected with legs, forcing people out of the way. Son of a bitch,
he’d have to dump the crutches. He really didn’t want to do that, not this
soon. He didn’t want people to know and if this mission turned nasty he wanted
an advantage. Apart from the ability to turn into a fifteen-foot dragon, of
course.

People massed before them. He recognized some from the
meeting.

They’re stopping us moving forward. Johann is with him
though, and we have people waiting outside. Chill
, Serena said.

Sure.
Relieved, he touched Faye’s arm. She glanced at
him and smiled. “Shall we give the coffee a miss?” he asked lightly.

“Sure. You want to come to my place for a coffee instead?”

“Come to mine.” His place being STORM.

“Love to.” She said the words flatly. She still didn’t trust
him.

A commotion in the crowd before him drew his attention.
Cries of “You’re not taking him!” and “Get out of our lives!” echoed off the
walls. Shit. Nordheim’s acolytes had got there too, and now they’d have the
battle the STORM agents wanted to avoid.

The crowd milled through the open double doors to their
right, which led to an open space, one of the green areas between buildings. If
they hadn’t followed, they might have been trampled. They had no choice, but
Andros fought against the people sweeping him and Faye ahead. He braced his
crutches, widened them and planted them firmly in the grass. Handy that he
didn’t need them to walk anymore, but he’d always known about their value as
weapons. He wouldn’t hesitate to use them if anyone tried to push him and Faye
any farther forward.

Serena dodged around him and ran.

Blocking out the cacophony, Andros concentrated on
contacting Johann, just checking that the vampire was okay. He couldn’t find
him. Johann was either unconscious or—he
was
unconscious. Had to be, or
Andros could have sensed him. But he’d had his orders and they weren’t open to interpretation.

The area was thronged with people milling around the central
spot where, presumably, Nordheim was taking his stand. Keeping a hold on Faye’s
arm, Andros made his way across the back of the grassy area, toward the doors
that led to the building exit.

Before he got there, several screams heralded a new
development.

A great bronze bird spread his wings and issued a warning.
Not a telepathic one but a great screech, issued from its huge, wickedly hooked
beak. The roc must be around full size, a magnificent sight, awe-inspiring.
Nick Ivy was a bear of a man, but that only reflected the huge mass of his
other form.

Behind him, a dragon burst into life. As massive as the roc,
it grew even larger before it took to the air and hovered, providing protection
for his colleague. Ricardo Gianetti, badass agent and sensitive artist. Right
now the artist was probably not in the forefront of his mind.

Nick had something strapped on his back and Andros was
guessing it was Johann. His heart in his mouth, he watched the roc take off. He
risked opening his mind in this chaos, had to know.
Is he okay? Johann
Kovacs, how is he?

He didn’t get a reply.

Other Talents exploded into form. Nordheim’s followers,
prepared to fight for their leader. The last thing the STORM Talents wanted was
a battle with their own kind. Most of these Talents were misguided, nothing
else. They didn’t deserve to get hurt in the service of someone who was misleading
them.

The roc lifted, flew up, the dragon following, providing an
escort. The Sorcerer spoke.
Get her out of here. Now.

Then he felt it, like a sweeping wave, and he knew what was
happening. Serena had thrown a psychic net over the crowd, snared them so the
flying Talents couldn’t follow the STORM agents and the Sorcerers couldn’t
fight back. Serena was trained and very strong, the reason STORM had employed
her in the first place.

He turned to Faye. “Come on. We’re getting a cab.”

No more psi until they got to STORM. He needed the rest.

Chapter
Four

Back at STORM, Faye preceded Andros through the doors to be
greeted by the receptionist, a glossy, superbly groomed professional—a
non-Talent whose eyes warmed when she rested her gaze on Andros. But Faye felt
the presence of Talents here like nowhere else she’d ever visited. Not like
before, during her clandestine visit. That had been in the early hours, so most
people wouldn’t be here. Now she felt a tingle in the air, a humming
atmosphere. With a shock, she realized that it felt right. Like coming home.
She’d deliberately spent time away from Talents recently, trying to cope with
the changes in the world, deciding what she wanted to do, and the sense of them
welcomed her, ushered her in. Dangerously seductive. Like the man standing next
to her.

The receptionist looked at her, her eyes now cold, her face
so carefully made up Faye wondered if she’d had parts of it tattooed on. “Andros?
Ms. Reynolds asked me to tell you to go straight up to conference room three.
Could you take your guest with you?”

Andros gave the woman a grin Faye wasn’t sure the icy female
deserved. Oh shit, what was she, jealous? “Sure.” Andros led the way to the
elevators then glanced at his crutches. “I don’t need them here.” When the car
arrived, he took them in one hand and strode into the elevator. “All this
because I wanted my ankle bracelet back.”

He glanced at her. She’d remained silent on the way back and
Andros hadn’t seemed to notice. Now he did, but he shrugged. “Talk or don’t, as
you please. My brother-in-law is in trouble, maybe dying.”

“He’s your brother-in-law? I felt his presence, so I know
he’s a Talent. Why didn’t he do something?”

“Because he’s a vampire. Johann can’t turn until after
sundown and that’s hours away yet. They have to keep him alive until then.” His
mouth flattened.

Shock arced through her.
Please God, keep him alive.
She couldn’t bear to be the cause of the death of a Talent, even indirectly,
and that Andros cared for him made it much worse somehow. She followed Andros along
a green-carpeted hallway to a brightly illuminated room with fittings a lot
more upmarket than the lecture hall Harken had used. A large glass table with a
few chairs set around it dominated the space. The furniture screamed style. The
people in the room glanced up when they entered and she opened her mind enough
to read their Talents and let them read her sigil. Although she’d spent time
away from Talented society, she still remembered her manners.

Andros’ first words when he entered the conference room were
about Johann the vampire. “How is he? Has someone contacted Ania?”

“Didn’t you?” She recognized the cool blonde from her voice.
The Sorcerer who’d stood behind them. Tall, with ice-blue eyes and frosty-blonde
hair tied back in a tight ponytail, immaculately dressed in a slim unstructured
gray and black dress with a black jacket and long, glossy legs crossed under
the glass table. The décor suited her. All ice. If this Sorcerer wasn’t a
virgin, Faye would give up flying for a month. The Sorcerer gave her an icy
stare. “They sent me in to get you out. I didn’t know the cost, then.”

She’d even got to STORM before they had. Maybe another
Talent, or maybe she hadn’t sat in traffic on Madison for ten minutes as they
had. In uncomfortable silence.

Faye’s attention shifted to the spokesperson and commander
of STORM. She knew Ann Reynolds from TV. She took a breath. This was a smallish
conference room but she dominated it, this well-built, middle-aged mortal,
dressed in a dark amethyst power suit. She wasn’t even standing, or sitting at
the head of the table. Other leaders might need pomp and circumstance to
bolster them. Not Ann Reynolds. She ran STORM with a firm hand that nobody ever
questioned, or so all the news agencies and documentary-makers claimed. Faye
had wondered how before. Now she didn’t. The woman had a presence such as she’d
never come across, not in Talents or anyone else. Charisma, pure and undiluted.
She gave Andros a reassuring smile. “He’ll be okay. Ania’s on her way to the hospital.”

Andros let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God.”

Ms. Reynolds lost the smile and glared at him. “No thanks to
you, or the team I sent in. I wanted a professional group of Talents, not a
group of bumbling clowns. And what the hell were you thinking, going off on
your own to get that anklet back? Haven’t we trained you well enough? Or maybe
the people I entrusted with your training did a bad job?”

Not Faye’s best introduction to STORM. Ann spared her a
glance and a short nod, then indicated the spare seats at the table, side by
side. Andros and Faye took them without a word. Ann introduced the other people
in the room to Faye. Andros seemed to know them already. “Serena Duval,
Sorcerer. Nick Ivy, roc.”

She’d never met a roc before Nic. Now she’d seen him, she
didn’t doubt the legends, ancient and new about the great bird that was said to
have transported Sinbad. A powerful, huge birdlike creature that could take an
elephant in its claws. This one looked as if he could do it without
shape-shifting. He filled the chair he occupied and then some, his legs set
apart and braced for balance. His broad shoulders were showcased by his loose
black polo shirt, muscles rippling under the thin fabric when he shifted
restlessly. The two Talents gave Faye brief, unsmiling nods. She responded in
kind, meeting the gaze of the man she’d seen briefly on the roof last night.

“Do you have the professor?” Andros asked.

“No. He got away.” Ann Reynolds paused, grimaced. “He
stabbed Johann and left. He had a knife in his pocket. If Johann didn’t have
good reflexes, he’d be dead by now. After dark he’ll be fine. But he’s off this
mission.”

“What mission, Ms. Reynolds?” she asked sharply before she
could censor herself. As far as she knew, she’d freed a man who just wanted
Talents to claim their rights.

Ann’s gaze went to Faye, accusation burning in her cold
stare. “It’s Ann in this room. You’ve caused us complications. You stole Andros’
ankle bracelet to get the professor free. Could you tell us why you did that?”
Courteously phrased but impatiently delivered.

Faye tensed and just for a moment she felt Andros’ mind in
hers, touching her with sympathy. Before she could respond, he disappeared. He
couldn’t help her now. Because the Sorcerer’s senses were open, pressing on
her. She’d spot any lie in a heartbeat, more reliable than any polygraph.

Eyes burning with purpose, Faye remembered what Harken had
told her. She didn’t entirely believe it, not after Andros had assured her
things weren’t like that, but she couldn’t entirely discard it. Harken had a
tremendous sense of purpose. “The professor leads a movement of Talents. We
don’t see that we have to reveal ourselves, as the law wants. And as STORM
wants, or so he told me. He helps people escape their unveiling, that
registration they want to make law. And if the law changes, we’ll defy it. I
still believe that.”

Ann huffed, a small sound of disgust. “I’ve heard of these
groups. You really want to go outside the law?”

Faye put up her chin and glared back. “If necessary. Talents
have rights too.”

Ann’s lips curved in a smile. “So will we, if we have to.
That’s why we’ve never allowed STORM to be part of any government association,
here or anywhere else in the world. Did you really think we’d support such a
draconian measure?”

Faye heard her, listened numbly as everything started to
fall into place. Not that she’d believe it without a lot of proof.

Ann continued. “Harken Nordheim has a huge presence. We’re
fairly sure he’s a Sorcerer, although he prefers to remain hidden. He uses his
powers to compel, something the Talented community has always banned. He
probably set a compulsion in your mind so you believed him easily. But
something has changed that. Hasn’t it?”

Faye couldn’t meet Ann’s eyes. It sounded right and hit her
with the certainty of truth, although that could just be persuasion. But Harken
could have planted a compulsion in her. She’d put down a lot of his charm to
charisma, but now she was in the presence of true mortal charisma, in the
person of Ann Reynolds, she detected a difference. Something subtle, maybe a
difference in the pattern, the underlying rhythm. She had to think. Had to keep
calm and work this through.

Ann pushed a file across the table to Faye, then turned to Andros
and heaved a sigh. “You nearly wrecked everything, Andros, going off on your
own like that. If I’d known she’d target you, I’d have kept you back that
night. Didn’t you recognize the Talents on the roof?”

Andros sighed. “Yes, some. I just thought you had more
operatives than usual in town.”

Ann tsked. “I thought it probable that one of Nordheim’s pet
Talents would try to get him back. We just made it a bit easier for them.”

Faye groaned and buried her head in her hands. She’d been
used. They’d let her rescue Nordheim, set her up to take him out. “I should
have known. It was far too easy to break in.”

“Not that easy,” Ann said. “I have to say you did well, and
efficiently too. Have you had any training in the past?”

Faye shook her head. “No, not proper training.” She groaned
again. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Believe it.” Ann’s lips curved into a hard smile. “But
don’t beat yourself up too much. Either you help us or we’ll hold you until the
operation’s done. And you won’t escape.”

“I believe you.” She lifted her head, determinedly blinking
away her unshed tears. “But I don’t understand your role in all this. He stands
for what you stand for, or so you claim. Why would you want to stop him? He
showed us things, papers, that showed that STORM wanted the exposure of Talents.
Can you prove you don’t want that?”