The Gifted Ones: A Reader (21 page)

“I am trying to explain. If you would just—”

Granny held up a hand, cutting him off. Grace was taking this tidbit of information from Rishi’s investigations about as well as she had their original findings about Aiden Orcutt. Granny was now regretting the decision to even tell her about it. She looked up at Rishi and reopened the conversation, “In layman’s terms, son, please tell us what a spike in the trajectory would mean.”

“It is indicative of an increase in the encoded chatter, in the precise areas where Angel has indicated she traveled today with Miss Elodie. In other words, it looks like someone is very interested in everything they are doing together.”

Grace’s tone shifted from righteous indignation to outright fear, “And that means someone is after her again. Maybe that Aiden person or someone else. I never should have let her go up there. They’re going to follow her and snatch her when Angel’s not looking, and then do who-knows-what to her, and I’ll never see her again!”

Granny offered a matter-of-fact response, “Now, Grace, you’re blowing it all out of proportion. It’s not that dire. It only means someone is paying attention to two pretty girls strolling around D.C., one of which is heavily armed and dressed like the Terminator. If anything, it’s Angel that’s drawing the attention, not Ellie. But even if Ellie was the object of some interest, Angel would never
not
be looking. Ellie is as safe up there as she would be right in this room.”

Grace gestured broadly, endangering the glassware and ongoing experiments. “How can you say that? How can you be so calm? Someone in your organization wants my Ellie! One of these crazy Gifted people is going to come after her and hurt her, just like they did Lucy!”

Wait, what? Granny furrowed her brow. What did any of this have to do with Grace’s long-dead sister? Granny wrapped an arm around Grace’s shoulders. “Grace, dear, just listen—”

“NO!” Grace threw Granny’s arm off of her and dug in, “You listen to me, old woman! You tore my family apart years ago, and one of your beloved Gifted Ones nearly destroyed my sister. I won’t let it happen again with my niece!”

Granny’s eyes widened, and she stared in bewilderment. Clearly, the wheels were coming off. “Grace, I know you’re worried about Ellie, but, honestly, I don’t know what you’re talking about. This has nothing to do with what happened to Lucy…”

“Oh, yes, it does! You think you know everything, but you don’t! You don’t know the half of it! You think you’re all one big happy family here…well, I’ll tell you what—when my sister was really in trouble, when she really needed help, she came to me.
Me
. Her real, bona fide flesh and blood, non-Gifted family member. Not some people she shares one lousy gene with. And I’ll tell—”

“Gracie?”

The voice was soft, yet commanding. Granny breathed a sigh of relief as Joe Manning joined the conversation, bringing an instant end to Grace’s diatribe. Both women turned towards the screen which was now split into two views—the original, of Rishi in his comfortable chair, and the new one, a head and shoulders image of Joe.

Rishi shrugged sheepishly. “Sorry, ladies, I thought perhaps we needed an intervention.”

Granny gave him a brief wave of thanks, then focused on her esteemed colleague and friend. Joe was dressed nicely, in a dark navy suit and a red patterned tie. She hated that they were interrupting what was probably an important meeting or a fine meal, but if anyone could bring order to this chaos, it was Joe. Still, it was Grace’s reaction to him that surprised her most.

The shrieking hysteria evaporated, and tears welled up in her eyes. As Granny watched, the spunky, take-no-prisoners maiden aunt morphed into a whimpering schoolgirl. She begged him, “Joe, please! Please go and get her. Bring her back to me. Now! I can’t lose her. I can’t!”

His voice was gentle, “Grace, it’s all right. She’s fine. I talked to Angel twenty minutes ago. They’re at her boyfriend’s apartment. Safe and sound. He’s making them dinner, and they’re going to watch a movie. She’s having fun.”

Grace’s nose was bright red now, and tears were openly running down her cheeks. “But did you actually talk to Ellie? Did you see her?”

Joe wrinkled his forehead, allowing some frustration to show. “No, I didn’t talk directly to Ellie, honey, but she was there, with Angel. Where else would she be?” He sighed. “You don’t trust any of us, do you, Gracie?”

She bit her lip and looked down at the floor.

“Look, how ’bout I call them right now? Or why don’t you call her yourself? Will that put your mind at ease?”

There was a moment of silence during which Grace sniffled and appeared to be wiping tears from her face. Finally, she lifted her head and shook it quickly. “No. You’re right, Joe. I’m totally overreacting. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, honey. It’s my fault. I should’ve realized you weren’t ready—”

Rishi shifted noisily in his chair, as if to remind Joe that he and Grace were not alone. Joe’s tone changed to a more businesslike manner, “Um, that is, I should’ve respected your wishes as her guardian and not pushed you to let me bring her along.”

Grace, too, seemed to recover her composure. “It’s all right, Joe. And Rishi…I’m sorry for running all over you like that. I know you’re just doing your job. Please keep us updated if you find out anything new.”

Rishi smiled and nodded, then signed off.

Anxious to relieve Grace’s stress, Granny pointed toward the window. “Look, Grace, Doo’s on his way in. Gilda must be feeling better. You’ve done a marvelous job with her. I think Chef Ren left some plates for you two in the front kitchen. Why don’t you go relax and have a late supper together?”

Grace peered out the window. “Well, now that you mention it, I am pretty hungry. That’s a good idea. I’ll go catch him.”

As Grace started toward the door of the lab, Joe, who was still on the screen, called out to her, “So I’ll have Ellie call you as soon as they get back, okay?”

Granny sagged. No sooner had she gotten Grace’s mind off the girl for a minute, than Joe was reminding her to hurry back for an update. Couldn’t he see that Doo was a perfect distraction for the little worry wart? She glanced back up at the screen as Joe signed off, noting the sour expression on his face. Hmm, maybe he
could
see that, and he wasn’t liking it so much.

# # #

“So sorry, ladies. Important call. Wha’d I miss?” Joe smiled amiably at his dinner companions as he resumed his seat at the table and laid the white linen napkin back in his lap. The three, Dr. Hannah Graber from the Max Planck Institute, her assistant, Dr. Eva Ruehlein, and his personal escort for the evening, Nadia Pavlenco, were all bright, charming, and highly accomplished women. And they were all, of course, Gifted Ones. The two Germans were world-renowned archeologists, while Nadia, a former Olympic hopeful from Romania—a gymnast, sidelined by a wrist injury—was now making use of her lithe physique as a Council Defender. Yet, despite what should have been a scintillating engagement, Joe found himself distracted.

It certainly wasn’t their fault. The three ladies shared a charming, non-stop banter, and the two younger ones, at least, were very easy on the eyes, but the face that Joe kept seeing was Grace’s. Before today, he’d only seen her cry once. That was the day that he’d tried to explain to her why he had to go away, why he was leaving them all, why Grace would never get to wear the beautiful maid-of-honor dress they had picked out together. Until that moment, even he hadn’t realized that his engagement to Lucy was about more than just the two of them. He had not understood how tight was the bond that had formed with her family, as well. Especially her little sister.

And although he continued to be a part of both their lives for a long time after, he had never again seen that degree of vulnerability on Grace’s face. He had never doubted it was there; he had simply accepted that he would no longer be privy to it. Seeing her like that today, and more so, knowing that she’d allowed it, and allowed him to help her, had shaken him to his core. Perhaps a bridge he’d thought long since burned could be rebuilt.

“Don’t you agree, Dr. Manning?”

Dammit. Caught in the act. Joe lifted his napkin to his lips, buying himself a second to see if he had subconsciously heard
anything
that Dr. Graber had just been saying. He hadn’t. “Well, I…” Oh hell, where was the waiter when you needed him?

“You see, I told you he wouldn’t want to take sides on this,” Nadia offered with a catty tone. “Joe never wants to offend, and repatriation of religious artifacts is just too controversial a topic for dinner conversation. I mean, who’s to say whether the Vatican or the state should take ownership? Right, Joe?” She flashed him a bright smile.

“Exactly what I was thinking, Nadia. Thank you for putting it so succinctly.” Joe gave her a grateful look and took a large swallow of his wine. What Nadia lacked in physical size and strength, she more than made up for with her quick thinking. As he had assured her during the recruitment process, there was more to being a Defender than simple bulk.

And she once again proved herself valuable when, a little while later, she caught him stealing a glance at his phone, as it lay on the table beside his plate. She laid a hand on it, then addressed the other two women, “If you’ll all excuse me, I need to run to the powder room.” She picked up Joe’s phone as she stood and said quietly, “Angel?”

He nodded briefly and said, “Just a quick check-in.” She smiled and left them. Clearly, Angel’s training of the young Romanian had included a section on “how to anticipate the boss’ needs even before he knows what they are.” He wasn’t the least bit concerned about Angel and Ellie’s visit with the boyfriend, but he knew Grace would appreciate his staying on top of it.

He forced himself to focus on Dr. Ruehlein’s description of a new dig site in the southernmost part of Africa where some pre-human remains had recently been uncovered. Her enthusiasm and vivid imagery allowed him to forget momentarily about Grace and her little meltdown. When Nadia returned a few moments later, however, the agitation on her face brought it all back.

Rather than taking her seat, she beckoned to Joe. He once again excused himself, and Nadia led him to an alcove outside the dining room. She pushed his phone back at him. “She’s not answering. Not calls or texts. I tried more than once.”

“Well, she doesn’t always answer right away. Maybe they’re eating or watching the movie. Let’s—”

“Call her on the nano? I tried. Three times.”

Joe’s heart skipped a beat. Angel was imminently capable; he had said many times that he would trust her with his life and anyone else’s, too. But no one is infallible. And Angel
never
failed to respond to the nano. In fact, she’d leave the tiny microphone in her ear at times when the monitors preferred she didn’t. Even undercover, she’d say something to let her monitor know she was okay. Joe kept his voice steady, “How far is it to Carlo’s apartment?”

Nadia tapped on her phone a couple times. “An hour. Fifty minutes, if we break a few laws.”

Joe closed his eyes for a minute and pressed his index and middle fingers into his forehead. When he opened them, he was dead calm. He pointed back toward the dining room. “Give the bone sisters our apologies, then meet me out front.” He turned toward the door, still talking to her, “I’ll drive, you make the calls.”

# # #

“Sorry, gorgeous, gotta run. Can you let yourself out?” Enrique Espinoza tossed his phone across the room, landing it perfectly on top of the pile of his clothes in the corner, then threw back a tangled bedsheet.

“C’est quoi ce bordel?!” The willowy blonde sat straight up as Rique pulled away from her. Her tousled hair fell around her shoulders, and the bedcovers sank to her waist, displaying her perfect white breasts for his viewing pleasure.

He paused briefly, taking it in, and then, shaking his head at the wastefulness of the moment, proceeded to leap out of the bed. As he slid into his black jeans and yanked a dark T-shirt over his head, she assailed him with a litany of French that sounded most unpleasant. He ducked to avoid being hit with a picture frame she had grabbed off the bedside table, and simultaneously snatched his boots off the floor. As he pulled the bedroom door closed behind him, he cringed at the sound of glass breaking against it. Fortunately for Rique, he didn’t speak a word of the lovely lady’s primary language.

Damn shame to walk out on that one. He’d have to look her up…if he ever found himself in Monaco. But some things were more important. He pulled his leather jacket on, verified his equipment, and headed out.

Once outside his building, Rique checked the address on his phone. He looked up and down the street; it was dark, save for the illumination of corner lampposts. He assessed the situation, his brain quickly calculating the options, then he began to move. He darted between cars, crossing in the middle of the block, and then slipped down a narrow passage that separated two of the newer buildings on his street. Soon he was moving, almost noiselessly, down alleys, around tool sheds, over fences, and past sleeping dogs. In a motor vehicle, or even on a bicycle, the D.C. area could be a nightmare for navigation, but on foot, and with a modicum of agility, one could move swiftly to his destination, enjoying the cover of so many obstacles. In just under eleven minutes, Rique traveled a distance that would have taken half an hour in a car, and twice that at rush hour.