Turbulence (5 page)

“Yeah, and you probably believe pigs can fly too.”

“Shut up, Grey.”

Greyson chuckled. Ever since they were kids he always got a
kick out of ruffling Ross’s feathers. It was so easily done. Their father used
to say Ross was the weaker of his two sons, the one who let feelings dictate
his actions.

Ross shifted around to look at Greyson. “You know, you could
have asked me to go along with you today instead of ordering me. That would
have been the proper way to do things.”

Greyson braked at a stop sign. “I knew you didn’t have to be
on duty until later. Why waste time with inquiries.”

“I have an operation to run, Greyson. Do you remember the
sentries? You did put me in charge. Or did you forget?”

Ross was a mild-mannered guy, but he was hard-hitting when
the situation called for it. He was clever and efficient. Just what a boss
needed to be.

“You trained the sentries well, Ross. If they don’t know
what to do when you’re not there then we have a serious problem.”

“They know what to do,” he responded, the offense in his
voice evident. Just as Greyson knew it would be.

“Then stop bitchin’,” Greyson told him. “Look in the visor.
I put two photographs up there. You’ll take one and so will I. We’ll go into
town, ask around to see whether anybody’s seen Davie.”

“That’s your big plan?” Ross waved the photos.

“What else can we do? It’s as good a place to start as any.”

He saw the truth of it slide across features so similar to
his yet so different. “I guess so. I just hope Davie is okay.”

“Me too, little bro.”

Something deep inside told Greyson that it might not be the
case. For the sake of Davie’s family and the rest of the Jhetans, he would remain
optimistic. It had taken months for his people to recover mentally and
emotionally from the Department X attack. He didn’t know what would happen if Davie
truly was in danger.

----

“No. Sorry. Haven’t seen him.”

Greyson nearly exhaled a curse before he caught himself. It
wasn’t this lady’s fault that nobody had seen Davie Riddick recently or ever.

“All right. Thanks for your time.”

The woman nodded and walked off with her shopping bag in
hand. As soon as he and Ross got to town—what passed as a downtown for Forest
Hills—they split up to cover more ground.

 So far, only a handful of people recognized Davie. They all
remembered him having a couple drinks at the bar in town on occasion.

The bartender remembered Davie coming in that week around
seven o’clock in the evening. He didn’t recall the Jhetan being drunk, only had
a couple beers. Davie talked to a few people, watched a college basketball game
on TV. Then the bartender said Davie left. Nothing strange about him. No one
followed him.

It just didn’t make sense to Greyson. It wasn’t like Forest
Hills, Nebraska was the mecca of crime. He kept up with those things. He made
sure his people were in a safe environment. When crimes occurred, it was
usually something like pick pocketing or vandalism. The rare times when it was
something serious, the offender was usually someone the victim knew.

All of that led Greyson to believe that he was right in his
first assumption. Lola got on Davie’s nerves so much that he ran off. He’d come
back sooner or later since the whole bonding thing made a person feel
incomplete if they weren’t with their mates. It was ridiculous.

He rolled up the photo and shoved it into his back pocket.
He strolled down the street lined with clothing stores, restaurants, and other
shops Greyson cared less about. But he stopped dead in front of the bookstore
when he saw the poster in the window. It advertised a bestselling romance
novel. For a reason he would rather not ponder, he thought Avalon might like
it.

It was crazy of him to think about buying it for her. For
one, Greyson didn’t know what type of romance novels she liked. Two, he never
bought women gifts. Ever. Not even Nyah who he shared a bizarre relationship
with for years.

His feet didn’t seem to get that message. They carried him
into the store, a stupid bell dinging above his head when he entered. The
cluttered bookstore made him feel claustrophobic. Then again, it was probably
what he was about to do that made him feel ill.

“Hello, dear. Can I help you find anything?”

A white haired old woman hobbled from behind the register
counter. She was a frail thing. Looked like she’d blow away if he even sneezed
in her vicinity.

Greyson rubbed his neck, feeling uncomfortable. “Um, yeah.
That book that’s on the poster in the window. Do you have it?”

She smiled. It was warm, wrapping around him like a thick
blanket. “Yes, dear. Follow me.”

It took the woman forever to get to the side of the store
that shelved the books. But Greyson slowed his strides as to not run over the
old lady.

There was a stack of the books on a table. She picked one up
and handed it to him. “Here you go. I don’t suppose that’s for you.”

“No. It’s for, um, someone.”

“Well, it’s a popular book. I’m sure your someone will love
it. You’re a sweet young man.”

Greyson snorted. Yeah,
sweet
wasn’t a word anybody
ever used to describe him. “Can I just pay for this?”

“By all means. Follow me.” At her slow pace, she led Greyson
to the register. When she got behind the counter she asked, “Are you one of the
folks that moved on the Malloy land?”

Malloy was Lily’s last name or at least it used to be before
she mated Dex. “Yep. Heard crazy stuff about us, I bet.”

“Sure did,” she said as she took his money. “I’ve been
around a long time. I know when to take rumors with a grain of salt.”

Greyson wanted to know what the new rumors were that she
heard, but decided it would only make him upset to hear the lies the humans
were saying about them. The old woman handed him a bag with the book inside.

“Have a nice day,” he told her.

“You too, dear. I hope your lady friend likes the book. Any
man who courts a woman by bringing her books is a keeper.”

He wasn’t courting Avalon. He merely thought she’d like the
book. Nothing else. He would have told the woman that if his phone hadn’t rang.
He walked out of the bookstore before answering.

“What?”

“It’s Ross. I might have something. Come to the fire
station.” He hung up.

The fire station? Why would Davie have gone to the fire
station? Greyson got back inside his truck and drove to meet Ross. He could
have walked the five or so blocks it took to get there, but then he wouldn’t
have been able to hide the book bag. He didn’t want anybody knowing what he
just did. They would undoubtedly catch the wrong idea, especially Ross.

Greyson didn’t need a nosy brother snooping around in his
stuff, asking why he bought a book when Ross knew better than anybody that
Greyson would never go into a bookstore unless he was forced. And he wasn’t
forced.

There was no time to allow that to sink in. He pulled up to
the firehouse. Ross and a firefighter dressed in a blue uniform met him as he
walked up the driveway. The man, although fit for a human, was dwarfed by Ross
and since Greyson was bigger than Ross in all facets, he made the man look like
a shrimp too.

The fireman held out his hand. “Don Rust. Nice to meet you.”

He shook Don’s hand. “Greyson Kane.”

“Don here says he thinks he saw Davie,” Ross said. Judging
from his tone of voice, it wasn’t a good thing.

“Where?”

“Well,” Don started, “there was a fire the other day. You
might have heard about it. The old shoe factory on Kent Drive.”

“Davie was in the fire?” Dread skated along Greyson’s skin
like a thousand mosquitoes.

“No. But afterward we got a call about an accident a few
blocks away. While we were there, a few residents were complaining about this
terrible smell. The terrible smell turned out to be a body stuffed in a garbage
can.” He shook his head. “Bad shape, man.”

“You believe it was Davie? What makes you think that?”

“The hair, dude. It matched the picture Ross showed us here.”
Davie had a strip of white in his hair like a skunk. “The body was taken to the
morgue. As far as I know, no one’s claimed it. You should go over there and see
if it’s him for sure.”

“Damn,” he muttered. He looked at Ross whose face was as
grim as Greyson felt. “Well, thanks for your help, Don. We’ll head over now.”
He and Ross got back inside the SUV.

Ross leaned his head back against the seat. “I hope it’s not
Davie. He’s got a mate and a daughter.”

“It might not be him.”

“Don recognized his hair, Grey.”

“Everyone’s doing crazy stuff to their hair nowadays. I saw
a girl the other day whose hair was as blue as a Jhetan rock.”

Ross slid him a halfhearted scowl. “Who’s naïve now?”

Okay, sure. Greyson might be naïve in believing this. But as
much as he pretended like he didn’t care about anything, the Jhetans were his
life. He felt each blow any one of them received as if it were his own.

If that body in the morgue really was Davie Riddick, he was
in for a great deal of pain because Davie mattered to people. To his family. To
his friends. To Greyson.

Even with the evidence pointing toward the worst outcome, he
hoped with all his might that Davie just ran off and left his wife and
daughter. Because the alternative was a heartbreaking fate.

Chapter 5

Avalon awoke to the sound of shrill ringing in her ear. She
groaned, burying her face deeper into the soft cushion of the pillow. It
couldn’t be time to get up yet. It seemed that she just fell asleep after
staying up late to finish the book she had been reading.

When the ringing didn’t stop, she remembered the phone she
placed on the nightstand. Avalon blindly reached for it, her eyes too heavy to
open.

“Hello?”

“Avalon, are you asleep?” Greyson. Who else would call her
at this horrid hour?

“I was,” she slurred, her tongue thick in her mouth. “What
time is it, sir?”

“Two o’clock.”

Avalon groaned again. No wonder her body wasn’t adapting
well to this wakeup call. She hadn’t even started dreaming yet. “What do you
need, sir?”

“Can you…” There was a deep sigh on the other end of the
phone. “I need you to come over.”

The change in his voice alerted her that there was something
wrong. His tone was usually arrogant and strong. Now it sounded weary and thin.
“What happened? Are you okay?”

“Just come, Avalon. I can’t sleep.” The phone clicked in her
ear.

She slowly got out of bed and stuck her feet into a pair of
soft pink slippers. She rarely allowed herself to buy anything. But she saw
those slippers with the matching silk nightdress and robe and had to buy them.

The dress was more revealing than anything she’d ever worn.
It had spaghetti straps and a deep V neckline. The hemline of the dress came
only above her knee. The silk felt so smooth and soft against her skin.

She wouldn’t have worn it to bed if she’d known Greyson was
going to call. Thankfully, the accompanying robe fell to her calves. Avalon
tied the belt and slipped out of her room.

The cabin was dark and quiet. She tiptoed out as to not wake
her grandmother who was asleep in her bedroom, even though Veeva usually slept
like the dead. If Veeva knew where she was going at this time of night, she’d
probably have a ranting fit. Greyson fell to her bad list after she learned he
ratted her out on the whole spiked punch ordeal.

The chilly autumn night wrapped around Avalon like a black
cloak as she walked up the road. She never realized how creepy the colony
looked at night before, especially when everyone was in their homes where she
should have been. The shadows caused by the trees were as deep as inkblots. The
skittering of the drifting leaves was as loud as a gunshot in the silent night.

She pulled the sides of her robe closer together, working
herself into a panic. Why didn’t she tell Greyson to come get her? It wasn’t
safe for a woman to be walking alone at night. Even humans knew that.

“Hey, you!”

Avalon screamed. A scream of a worse nightmare. The man—she
hadn’t even heard him approach— stood right behind her, dressed in black with a
machine gun in his hand. It was quite possible she was about to die.

“Relax,” he said, putting the gun down to his side. “I’m a
sentry.”

She felt the little tickle in her brain that alerted her to
other Jhetans. She was around her people all the time now so it was difficult
to notice it anymore. He also wore the intersecting double arrows crest on his
dark jacket—the symbol of the sentries.

Avalon drew in a shaky breath, putting her hand over her
rapidly beating heart. “I’m sorry. I thought you were about to kill me.”

“Nope. I’m protection. No one gets in here. You’re safe.
Where are you going? It’s pretty late.” His eyes glided down to take in what
she was wearing. A faint smile graced his lips. “You don’t look dressed to be
out of the house.”

She was still too shaken up to be self-conscious about her
attire. “I’m going to the main house. I’m needed there.” When his brows pinched
together, she added, “I’m the housekeeper.”

“Oh. Okay. It’s a little late for you to be working, don’t
you think? In any case, I’ll walk you there.”

“Thank you, sir.”

He nodded and ushered her along. “I’m Ross. Guess I should
have told you my name before I started escorting you. I haven’t seen you
around. What’s your name?”

“Avalon. I tend to keep to myself. You probably know my
grandmother. Veeva.”

He chuckled. “Oh yeah. I know Veeva. Heard she tried to
spike the punch not too long ago.”

Thinking about it still gave her headaches. “That she did.
She threw a tantrum when I stopped her. Were you at the dinner?”

“No. I don’t get a chance to go to them. I have to patrol
during that time.”

“All the time?”

Ross nodded in the darkness. She couldn’t really make out
his features, but he had a nice, calm voice. “Greyson tells me to work, so I
work. You can’t really say no to him.”

Avalon supposed you really couldn’t since she was outside of
her cabin in the middle of the night to tell him a bedtime story to put him to
sleep. Nevertheless, it wasn’t fair that Ross never got the opportunity to
attend the community dinners. From what she saw and heard, everyone looked
forward to those once a week gatherings. Except her. Greyson had graciously
informed her that she didn’t have to attend them again if she didn’t want to.

“Here we are.”

Avalon looked up. The farmhouse loomed before her. A dark,
imposing structure. However, she suspected if she went around to the back that
there would be a room with light streaming out of it. Greyson’s room.

“Thank you for escorting me.”

Ross bowed, gallant and dramatic. “Anything for a precious
lady. If you need an escort back to your cabin, dial star three on a phone in
the house. If I’m not available, someone else will come for you.”

“Okay. Thanks again.” She waved. He walked off.

Avalon let herself into the house. Before going up to
Greyson’s room she made him a cup of chamomile tea. It should help him fall
asleep by calming him.

When she got upstairs, the door to his room was open,
spilling light from inside. Greyson was sitting on the edge of the bed in a
black t-shirt and a pair of black pajama bottoms. His head was in his hands
like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Empty beer cans littered the
floor. From the first day she began working in the house she suspected he had a
close relationship with alcohol. It worried her.

Avalon knocked gently on the door. He lifted his head. His
eyes were red rimmed and watery, but he wasn’t crying. He looked tired, not
just physically but emotionally as well.

“It took you long enough,” he said. “Come in and close the
door.”

If she wasn’t getting so used to his rudeness, she might
have been offended. She came into the room and held out the cup of hot tea. “I
made you chamomile tea. It’s supposed to soothe you.”

He took the mug from her and stared at her in that odd way
of his—like she was some puzzle that he needed to solve. “Thank you.” Greyson
blew into the cup before he took a sip. “Needs a little brandy to give it some
kick.”

 “I don’t really think you need liquor right now.”

“You’re probably right. I already had a few beers.” More than
a few, she suspected.

“I know, sir. What do you need me to do for you?”

Greyson rubbed a hand roughly over his head. “Nothing.
Everything. I don’t know, Avalon. I just felt a longing to have you here. I
don’t know why. I guess something about you is so easy and tranquil that it
calls to me.”

There was something bothering him. She probably couldn’t
solve his problem but maybe she could help him feel better about it. She
kneeled before him.

“Will you tell me what’s bothering you? What happened
today?”

He took another sip of tea before placing it down on the
floor. “I failed. That’s what happened.”

“Surely that isn’t true.”

He focused on her, his brown eyes haunted and glazed with
inebriation. “It’s true. I lost someone. Again. I’m supposed to protect everyone
here, make life better, simpler. But I continue to fail.”

Avalon didn’t understand what he meant, but she knew he was
not a failure. Never when she looked at Greyson Kane would she ever see a man
who failed at anything. “I love it here, Greyson.” Now wasn’t the time for
addressing him according to protocol. She doubted he even cared. “My
grandmother and I came from homeless shelters in Chicago. We had nothing.
You’ve given us a home. You want to know why I eat the way I do? Because I had
to make sure my grandmother survived this new life we were thrown into. If that
meant giving her my portion of food and pretending I wasn’t hungry then so be
it. But now I have a job, a house, food, and opportunity. You gave me that.”

Greyson shook his head in disbelief. “I didn’t know…”

“Of course you didn’t. I owe you so much.”

“No you don’t.”

She was not going to argue with him. “Will you please tell
me what happened?”

He sighed, rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. There
were still no tears, but Greyson was miserable. Handsome and sad. “Davie
Riddick was killed.”

Avalon sucked in a breath. She didn’t know that many people
here, but she knew Davie. He was friendly to her.  “Oh my goodness. That’s
terrible.”

“I had to tell his family. I watched them fall apart at the
news. It’s not common knowledge yet, but by tomorrow everyone will know.
They’re going to blame me.”

“No they’re not. You didn’t kill him, did you?”

“Of course not.” He looked at her like she was crazy. “But
I’m responsible for all of you. I can’t stop these horrific things from
happening and I hate it.”

“Greyson, a great deal of things in life are out of our
control.”

As their leader, he’d receive plenty of flak from people who
thought he was akin to a god or something. He’d have to deal with questions,
fears, anger. Her heart went out to him.

“I feel like I should have been able to control this,
Avalon. Can I have another drink? No, I think I’m out. I went to the morgue
today to identify his body. I wouldn’t let my brother go in with me because I
had a bad feeling. He was—” Greyson took a deep breath. “Davie was brutalized.
His body was unrecognizable. If it were not for the hair…”

“Shh. Don’t talk about it anymore.” Avalon felt sick. For
Greyson to have seen Davie’s mutilated body was awful. No wonder he couldn’t
sleep.

“I keep thinking about it, beating myself up over it. I need
a damn drink!”

“That’ll only make you feel worse,” she told him gently.
“Alcohol is not the answer.” With how much she suspected he drank already, she
was surprised he was still functioning at a somewhat normal level.

He shut his eyes. “I should have done something. Told
everyone not to leave the colony without a sentry escort. Paid more attention
to the newspaper. I couldn’t even tell whether his murderer was human or
Jhetan, many or one. I couldn’t do anything.”

Going against her rules of touching, Avalon wrapped her arms
around Greyson’s big, muscular shoulders. He needed a hug. He needed comfort
and companionship. She couldn’t sit there listening to him, watching him hurt without
offering comfort.

It wasn’t long before his arms came around her, squeezing
her and pulling her off the floor, depositing her on his lap. He buried his
face against her neck. She shivered as his warm breath flowed across her skin.
It felt so good, better than anything she’d ever felt.

“Avalon,” he whispered.

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped in an embrace
with Greyson murmuring her name ever so often. She felt the tension melting out
of him, some of the guilt. But the mourning stayed. One of their own was gone.
The gloom settled in her heart as well.

It was not until Greyson’s hand started stroking her back
that propriety came back to her. She was in Greyson’s lap! They were holding
each other. What was she thinking? Avalon jumped up, backing away from him.

“What?” He glanced behind him like there was someone else
she was trying to get away from.

“We were embracing!” she exclaimed.

He shrugged. “Your point is?”

“It’s inappropriate. We were touching!” That statement hit
her as odd. They were touching. Why hadn’t she gotten a glimpse of Greyson’s
future? Her mind was clearly unguarded since she’d been so engrossed in him, in
holding him.

“What is it, Avalon?” Her expression must have clued him in
to something not being right.

“We were touching and I didn’t see anything. I couldn’t see
you.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

She shuffled back over to him, laid her hand on his
shoulders to see inside his future. All Avalon saw was blackness. Nothing.

“What the heck?” she muttered.

Her hands slid down his arms, back up to his chest then down
to his abs. She still saw nothing. She couldn’t see Greyson’s future. She saw
everyone’s future if she tried to.

“You better stop.”

“Huh?”

Greyson gestured with his head down to his lap. “I get
excited easily.”

Where her hands were resting on his hard abdomen, below that
there was a certain part of him growing inside his pajama pants. Avalon
snatched her hands away, stepping back for good measure.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to feel you up, sir.” Her face
felt on fire.

A lopsided grin spread his lips. “It’s all good. At least
you got my mind on other things. Now what’s this about you not seeing me?”

She didn’t trust herself not to look down at his lap and she
was ashamed for even being tempted. She sat on the bed a reasonable distance
away from him. She should have sat in a chair, but she’d already sat on him, so
she suspected if he thought her a respectable woman, that was gone now.

“My ability is being able to see into the future,” Avalon
answered.

His golden eyebrows shot up near his hairline. “Is that so?”

She nodded. “Only glimpses and only when I touch someone.”