The Beckoning of Broken Things (The Beckoning Series) (24 page)

As time wears on, I’m getting a good sense of what a Stealth Numen is and does. Ever since we ran into Kaine, Rafe has been doing his job - being secretive, silent
, and stealthy. He flickers in and out of sight. His hand zips out to catch drones, like a frog’s tongue snatching a fly.

It’s easy to tell them apart from the rest of this world, once we knew what to sense.
I’ve mastered the art of shooting the drones with beams of light issued out of my palms. They zap and fry like bugs in an electronic bug zapper. I got one small chuckle out of him and then nothing. He says nothing to me. His face is placid or else stony. I want to kick him in the nuts. Anything to get a reaction from him. This endless silence is getting old.

Half the time I can’t even see him
, and this is
not
due to the Haloperidol. He shimmers in and out of form at will. He says what he’s doing is important. What he’s doing is vital to the cause. He says he has to go beyond the Shadow Lands to gain intel. “What kind of intel?” I ask.

He tells me there are deeper realms than the Shadow Land
, that we’re on the trail to my lover, and then he simply disappears before my eyes.

After his last disappearing act, I got mad and gave up on trying to keep up with him or figure out what he’s doing. “Enough’s enough, Rafe!” I tell the warped world around me. “This is your world, not mine. Hey! Can you hear me?” My words echo and bounce all around me
, distorted and skewed. I fall in a heap on this strange ground - spread out my arms and make angels in the dirt or whatever it is with my arms.
We’re getting closer,
I think.
Daniel’s essence is growing stronger.
In fact, I’m fairly consumed by thoughts of him. I feel as if I’m sleepwalking, immersed in thoughts of Daniel Navid. I can feel his arms around me…I can feel his lips sucking mine. I can feel his hardness inside of me, stroking me into a passionate, fiery bliss. His dark eyes, dark hair, and dark skin draw me deeper into his own darkness. No wonder Rafe keeps disappearing.

I sit up, moody and discontent. I flick my fingers and tiny bolts of electricity shoot into the atmosphere, fizzle and fade from sight. Truth be told, all this Light Rebel business is easy. It’s mastering interpersonal relationships that’s hard.

I hold out my palms and paint bubbles with my mind. Some rest in the center of my hand and pop, spraying my face with soap. Some float away from me, warped and colorful, bringing a small smile to my face. I paint bright and beautiful colors in the air. “This place could use some color,” I mutter. I glance down at my chest - the place that holds my betraying, achy heart. Painting bright, sparkly little heart shapes on my black tank top, and adding a few skulls and crossbones, I mutter, “This place could use good sense.”

Since when did the heart rule by good sense?

I am instantly alert. I haven’t been able to connect with him for days. Now his thoughts scream inside my head with a deafening volume. I close my eyes and am overpowered by Daniel. He’s all I can sense, see, feel, and breathe. “Where are you, Daniel?” I whisper.

In the darkness. In a place you can never
find.

I’m coming for you. I’ll find you. You can’t keep me away.

Marissa…

What? I’m not kidding. You and I have to sort things out between us.

I…I know. What I did was wrong.

I’m so surprised to hear that
, I feel as if he’s punched me in the stomach. For a moment, I gasp for breath.
Did you really say what I thought you said?

Yes. What I did was wrong. I took away your free will. It’s all I can think about. I’m consumed with undoing the wrong I have done.

My eyes flood with tears.
I’ve been mad at you. Furious. Ever since you told me what you did, I’ve been enraged, trying to make it okay, furious that you did it. I’ve been conflicted, hurt, and afraid. You didn’t even give me a chance to say yes or no. You didn’t even ask me if I would agree to that. I don’t even know what it means to be soul bound. All I know is that you did it against my will.

I know,
dulzura, I know. A soul binding is the most serious form of communion that there is. It creates one where there was once two. It changes one’s biochemistry. It alters one’s life pulse. It must be a binding that is agreed upon by both parties. What I did was wrong!

I can almost feel him shuddering with the force of his words.

It is beyond reproach. My…my mother spoke to me. She told me that my father did the same thing to her. She said it changed him, and not for the better. I may walk down the same dark path as him, but I will not walk without a conscious. I accept responsibility for my actions. I will undo what I have done.

For an endless moment we both share a communion of silence. These are the words I thought I’d never hear. This is the sentiment I thought would never happen. This changes things. This changes everything.
My heart feels as if it’s shattering. It feels as if it’s exploding into miniscule bits. What will I say to Rafe? What will I do with Rafe? Does this change how I feel about him? Does this erase the moments we have shared?
I have to tell you something.

Don’t say it. I don’t want to hear. I don’t want to know.

This thought stuns me. It stifles and silences me.

I’m closing the gate again. I’m closing the gate between us. Any choice you make has to be done of your own free will.

Wait, no, Daniel! Don’t go away! Daniel, please!
I’m sobbing now. I’m soaking this strange world with my tears as I beat my hands against whatever substance I am resting in.
Daniel! Daniel, don’t shut me out again. Come back to me! Please!
I’m met with silence inside and out. I hear nothing but my own sobs, my own heart fluttering against my chest, trying to escape the prison I find myself in.
I have to make a choice.
It’s the one thing that scares me more than anything.
I’ll face Armando. Send El Demonio back from his grave. But please, please don’t make me face a choice between the Stealth Numen and the Night Numen. It’s a choice I don’t think I’ll be able to make.

Armando drops the last wooden crate into the back of the Jeep outside of the decrepit warehouse in the isolated outskirts of a tiny town near Sao Paolo. He bangs on the side of the Jeep, and the military uniformed driver jerks from his doze. “That’s it! Now take me to my hotel.” He climbs next to the soldier, and they roar away.

Once he’s back at the hotel room, he pulls a couple tiny bottles of bourbon out of the small refrigerator mini-bar.
“Where are those damn whores?” He chugs one of the bottles, pops a couple Klonopin into his mouth. “Kpins to the rescue,” he mutters. “These will chill me the fuck out. Now where are those damn hookers?” He picks up a crowbar and pries the lid off of one of the crates. Inside, nestled in a bed of shredded foam, lay three Colt M4A1 carbines. He lovingly picks one up and hefts it up and down. He holds it against his shoulder, peers through the gun sight, and pulls the trigger. The lever makes a hollow clicking noise. “This should do the trick,” he states. “When all else fails, resort to weaponry.”

A timid knock sounds at the door. He tosses the firearm on the bed and heads over to open it. Boobs and Tits stand in the air conditioned hallway with a blanket
wrapped around their hips.

“Let us in,” Boobs hisses and she and Tits hustle into the room. “We’re a laughing stock. Everyone is teasing us and calling us names.
We had to throw this blanket over us. Nothing else fits. Nothing else disguises.” She lets the blanket fall leaving them wearing two separate shirts and nothing on their naked, distorted, conjoined hips.

“You’re going to pay for
this,” Tits adds.

“And just how will I pay, exactly?” Armando runs a finger down her cheek. “I’m the one doing you a favor
by letting you live.” He tips his head and studies them.
They do look like freaks. This will never do.
He flicks his, hand and they instantly separate, falling away from one another. “Get busy,” he orders. “Get me off, and I’ll do you another favor. After I show you what you’re going to do for me in the field.”

“What if we don’t want to?” Boobs asks, turning around to see if a tail still exists.

Armando shrugs. “You go back to being freaks. I’ve got no problem with that at all. I can call someone else just as easily and with far less trouble than you two have turned out to be.” He wanders back to the mini-bar for another mini-bourbon.
Drains it and plucks a cigarette from the pack on the counter. “Care for a smoke?” he asks them.

“Sure,” Boobs says, reaching for the smoke.

He lights it like a gentleman and takes a drag from his own. He’s starting to feel very relaxed. As in very….
Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to take so many Kpins. That stuff is a “forget about the day” drug, not a “get busy” drug.
His eyelids start to droop.

Boobs hands the smoke to her friend and saunters over to Armando. “So, what you want us to do? The usual?”

“Tell you what,” he says. “I’ve changed my mind. Let me show you what I want you to do for your task instead.” He picks up the gun from the bed. “Ever used one of these?”

Boobs frowns. “No.”

“You?” he nods toward Tits.

“No,” she says, nervously sucking on the cigarette. “Never.”

“Come here then.”

She
hands the smoke to her friend and takes a few tentative steps towards him.

“Don’t be frightened,” he says gently. He puts the cigarette between his lips and leans in close to Tits. He remembers when he taught Gabriela how to shoot a gun. She was a quick study
, but she hated it. He found it endearing for her to be such a good shot and so resistant to actually shooting the gun. He chuckles to himself. He tucks his arms around Tits’ back and positions the firearm along her shoulder. He places her hand on the vertical grip and wraps his hand around hers. “See, chica?” he says, using the endearing Spanish word he used to call Gabriela. “It’s easy. All you do is pull the trigger, and the gun does all the work. It fires like a machine gun. There’s a magazine that goes right here. The magazine holds the ammo.” He speaks to her like she’s a child with no knowledge whatsoever of guns. His arm grazes against her boob. A bit of ash falls from the end of the smoke and lands on her shoulders. He brushes it away with his fingers.

Lips leans back into him.

This is just like when I met Gabby,
Armando thinks.
We kissed for the very first time after she took her first shot.
The stirrings of arousal stiffen him. He maneuvers the cigarette he holds between his fingers to Lips’ mouth. She takes a drag. He brings it to his own mouth, draws the tobacco into his lungs, and exhales a long stream of blue smoke. He sets the burning smoke in an ashtray and brings his arms back into position, securing the gun against Lips’ shoulder. He presses his erection into her ass.

Boobs looks on with a bored expression, finishing her own smoke.

He places his palm over Lips’ hand and guides it along the cool metal. “See, chica? You are a natural. You will be good at this.” He rubs his nose into her hair, rocking his hips into her. “Yes, that’s it.” Her hair is nearly the color of Gabby’s hair. She’s wearing a light, rose-scented perfume that reminds him of his wife. He’s suddenly more aroused than he’s been in a long, long time.

He frees his arousal from his pants, and strokes her tender flesh
, rocking his hips with vigor, just like when he was a younger man. He groans and finds his release. When he comes, it’s perhaps the best orgasm he’s had in an eternity. It was almost like having sex with Gabriela.

He releases Tits and zips his trousers.

Tits whirls around and aims the gun at him. “Is this how you aim it?” she asks with a sneer.

His tender mood pops like a bubble.
“Put that thing down,” he roars. “Never point a gun at anyone. Especially at me.” With an angry flick of his hand, he joins the two whores at the hips again. They fly together like magnets, shrieking.
I’ll turn them into cats soon enough. They’ve got to track the scent of my prey. But for now that will keep them out of trouble while I plan. My son is in for a rude surprise.

An image of Gabriela flashes in his mind again.
Where are you?

You can’t find me.

I’m going to harm Daniel, you know that, right? You son is a dead man.

You can’t do that! I won’t let you!

There’s only one thing that will stop me.

What is it? Tell me.

You’ll have to figure it out before it’s too late.

You’re an evil man, Armando. Pure evil!

Evil I may be, but you always had a way of making me…
He pauses, searching for the right word.
You always had a way of making me behave. Without you, I’m out of control.
He smirks at that thought and what he imagines her reaction might be.
Without you, I can’t be held responsible for my actions.
His smirk becomes a smug, satisfied smile. He cocks his head, waiting for a response. When nothing comes, he thinks,
Gabby? Did you hear me? Your son is a dead man. Dead as our marriage is.
He strains to hear something. Anything.
Goddamn it, did you hear me? Where did you go?
When nothing but the sound of the whimpering hookers fills his head, he grabs a canvas tote from the closet, shoves the guns inside and turns the whores into cats once more.

He clips a diamond collar on each one and fastens leather leashes to the collars. “Do your job, bitches. You’re going to do your scent thing and find the opening to the Shadow Lands. I’ll take it from there. I may be old, but I’ve still got a trick or two up my sleeves.”