The Fallen One (Sons of the Dark Mother, Book One) Page 7

  Then she abruptly changed the subject. “Why midnight?”

  He actually grinned at her at this.

  She glared at him.

  He turned and gave her a quick look of appraisal before returning his gaze to the road. “Because it would make your head churn around with ideas of what it could possibly mean.”

  She gasped. “You set me up?”

  He grinned openly.

  “Okay,” she gave him a reluctant smile. “I asked for that—with all my high-and-mighty judgments. But watch your back.”

  He seemed surprised at her honesty—her frank appraisal of her judgments against him. Some kind of hidden tension seemed to leave him then.

  After a moment, she asked. “How do you do it?” She turned and looked at him. “Get into my apartment, I mean?”

  He grinned. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask that.”

  She glared at him.

  It only made him give her a playfully lecherous look. After a moment, he sobered. “I’ve had years of experience breaking into places where people don’t want me to be, Jes.”

  She dropped her gaze to her lap, fidgeting with her fingertips. She took a deep breath, scared to hear the answer to her next question. “What happened to you that day?”

  He turned his head, but looked right through her this time. “Nothing I care to talk about.”

  And that was it. He didn’t talk for the rest of the trip to the tiny town in the mountains southwest of Colorado Springs. When they got there, they stayed at the only motel they could find. He rented them separate rooms, and they slept through until nearly noon the next day.

  They didn’t know what they were looking for, so they settled on some late breakfast at the homey, little café. The waitress brought them coffee and menus. They sat there, poring through the list of homemade this and that, and finally ordered.

  Jes waited until she’d written their orders on her little tablet, and then, since they didn’t have a single, other place to start, she asked the waitress if she’d ever seen anyone around fitting Justice’s parents description. His father had an unusual look to him. He had pretty light eyes, light hair, light skin. The humans would have said he looked somewhat albino. Recognition dawned in the waitresses eyes.

  Jes felt Justice go tight with realization.

  The waitress turned, then, to stare at Justice. Her gaze narrowed on his face. Recognition strengthened, and she told them to wait there a minute because she had something for them, and left the room. When she returned, she brought Jes a leather-bound journal. “I can save you the time—asking all over town.” She looked right at Justice. “I thought I recognized you. Your mom—.”

  Justice glared at her in fury. The look he gave her would have warned most to hold their tongues, but the waitress smiled kindly at him.

  “Your momma told me all about each of you. She came with your father each day. She left the journal here, because we’re the only café in town. She said if you ever came looking, you would wind up here—if only just to eat—and so you have.” She laughed. She gave him an entreating look. “She was the one who sent you the blank postcard.” She dropped her voice to a near whisper. “She wouldn’t have dared to do anything else,” her whisper was frantic now, and she leaned in toward him. “I think the postcard put them in danger, because they disappeared after that.”

  When they left the café, they were both too stunned to speak. They got into the pickup and drove in silence. The waitress had said they wouldn’t find anything else in this little town, but they were too amazed to head back right now—and they wanted to look at the leather-bound journal. So they headed back to the motel. When they got there, Justice parked. They just sat there for several long moments—neither of them saying anything. Finally, Justice drug himself out of the truck.

  When they got to one of the rooms, Jes set it on the bed, and they both stared at it.

  It was tooled leather, beautifully bound—and it might be from Justice’s mother, but it was the first real clue they had about that day, and they both knew it.

  Finally, Justice looked up at Jes. “I can’t. Will you?”

  Jes nodded and swallowed hard. She picked it up and, with trembling hands, opened it to the first page. Looking down, her eyes filled full of tears as she read out loud to Justice.

  “Dear Children: If you have this journal, it means you have found your way to the Garden of the Gods and beyond. I hope this finds you well. It is in my deepest prayers to the Goddess that she has watched over you all—including Jes.”

  At this point, Jes sucked in a breath, and stumbled over the use of her name. She looked at Justice, wide-eyed. Looking back down at the journal, she went on….

  “Justice, you must be careful. I took a chance leading you here. I hope that Jes is with you. I will not take any more chances with your lives than the one I took right now. It was too important to get this warning out to you, not to take this one risk. But you have no idea the danger you all are in. And since I know you went back to Chicago, they will know. They will all know. That is why I had to take this risk. I hope you will forgive me. But Justice—they will be following you….

  “So I’ve written you as much as I can, here, in hopes that all of you will understand what has taken place—and why we had to leave. I know that you have planned carefully—you and your sisters—as we have taught you—training every single day for what has to take place….” Jes looked up at that point frowning. He only watched her steadily, so she went back to reading. “But the time has come… as I know you are fully aware.

  “Son, your father and I must have seemed so very different to you and your sisters—long before we left. I’m so sorry, son. Things just got so very difficult. There are still some things I must never speak of—but I hope you’ll understand—when this is through.”

  Jes stopped, looking up at Justice, trying to gauge how he was taking his mother’s words so far. He nodded, so she went on.

  She was surprised to read that the next words were directed to her. “Jes,” she read, “I’m afraid I must give you some heartbreaking news,” she sucked in her breath, unable to go on.

  Justice took the journal from her trembling hands. Taking her hand in his, he read. “Jes, I’m afraid I must give you some heartbreaking news,” he reread. He squeezed her hand and read on. “I know how hard it must be, for all of you, to wonder what has happened to all of us, but it will be most difficult for you to learn that your mother died that day—the day we all disappeared.”

  Jes sucked in her breath as the blow of his mother’s words hit her midsection like a fist.

  “Her death is one of the reasons that we had to disappear….” His voice trailed off. He let his mother’s journal fall to the bed and took Jes in his arms while she cried her heart out in deep, gulping sobs.

  When she was spent, he put his arms around her, holding her close—and they slept.

  Chapter Nine

  Justice

  Jes woke first. She lay there for some time, getting her bearings. She realized in that moment that though they had still rented two rooms for the second night, neither of them had gone to the other one. Instead, they had slept the entire night curled up—together. She didn’t know what to think about that—wasn’t prepared to allow herself to censor how it had felt—at all. It had felt too right—to want to ruin that feeling right now.

  The moment she moved, she was aware of the fact that Justice watched her. She sat up to pick up the journal. She looked at him, and he nodded, sitting partway up and running a hand through his hair. She knew that he was aware of how much she needed to read on.

  Justice sat there—watching her as she searched for the place they had left off in their reading last night. She didn’t have the answers he’d had all of these years. It must have been difficult for her—not knowing—not understanding. No matter what else had happened—he and his sisters had been pretty much aware of what had taken place.

  They had been training all of their live
s—were much too aware of the politics of their people—of the condition of their family—not to put all the pieces of the puzzle together fairly quickly.

  But not Jes.

  She had been left—pretty much fully in the dark. That was another reason why he’d brought her here. He didn’t need the journal—so far his mother had not told him anything that he had not already figured out. Except for the fact that Jes’s mother had died.

  He hadn’t figured that one out—had not had any way of knowing that anything like that had occurred. But the rest of it—their running—the fact that they were all in danger—that everyone knew he had returned to Chicago—especially after Jes had gone to Second Chances looking for him. All of this, he had known.

  But she hadn’t.

  She didn’t have any idea why one day she’d climbed out of bed and, by the end of the day—her whole world, as she knew it, had blown up.

  She needed this time. It was a little dangerous. Okay, it was more than a little dangerous. It wasn’t like him to take risks. He usually did everything after it was all well thought-out—well planned.

  But he hadn’t planned this one.

  No—this one he’d done—straight from the heart.

  “Jes,” she read out loud. “I’m so very sorry, but I must not tell you who killed your mother. I think your knowing would place you both in even greater danger—but most especially you…,” her voice trailed off. She shook her head. What on Earth had that meant? It was almost as if she were trying to tell Jes something with those words. She looked up at Justice with a question in her eyes.

  He’d sat up upon hearing those words. He’d heard the warning too, but he’d also heard what his mother hadn’t said by using those particular words. “Especially you…,” his voice trailed off. “Jes, that sounds as though you know her killer….”

  She nodded. “That’s exactly what I was thinking,” she said. “And it sounds as though whoever my mother’s… whoever my mother’s….” she stumbled over the words, “killer… was… is someone I love and…,” she looked up into his darkened eyes, “….trust.”

  He gathered her into his arms.

  Jes stiffened. Her mother had been murdered. And she was taking comfort in the arms of another murderer.

  Justice pulled free from her and stood.

  She wanted to take back her thoughts—but she could not. And they both knew why.

  He headed toward the door to go to the other room. He turned back at the door. “Jes, I’m sorry about your mother.” His gaze sought hers. She nodded. “You probably need to take that journal in—a little at a time. I’ll bring your bag; let’s get cleaned up. It’s a long drive back.”

  Jes could only nod—again. She averted her gaze, and tried her best to keep her thoughts on something neutral.

  They made the trip home in silence. The entire way, they hardly said a word. They were each deep within their own thoughts, and Jes was also deep in her grief. Whenever they had to stop, Justice bought her something to drink and something to snack on, and she would mumble her thanks.

  She would watch him when he looked her over, trying to determine if she were all right—he was pretty sweet—for someone who… she stopped that thought in its tracks, because whenever these thoughts entered her head, she would see him turn away: in disgust—and something else.

  She didn’t try to read any more of the thick, leather-bound journal. She didn’t know if she could take anymore right now.

  Who had killed her mother? And why did that put her in danger? Most of all—what could have happened that fateful day—all those years ago—to cause two families to go into hiding?

  And why had they left their children behind?

  “Perhaps,” said Justice, musing out loud, as usual, reading her thoughts, “it was the only way to keep us—out of danger.” He nearly whispered the last—as if it were the first time that had ever occurred to him.

  Jes went back to looking out the window—remembering her mother.

  She had been a quiet woman, a good and gentle woman. She didn’t say much, so when she did, she was usually heard by all—especially Jes’s father.

  But Jes remembered the last few weeks with her parents, before they disappeared, and they hadn’t been the usual, pleasant ones of her childhood.

  Her parents had fought—she remembered because she had started to fear they would divorce, like so many other families she knew around her. She didn’t know what they’d been fighting over, since they kept their arguments behind closed doors, and kept their voices low. She could only make out the heated, muffled sound of their voices.

  But nothing could hide the anger.

  She’d never seen her mother so angry. It frightened her. Her usually gentle mother was furious with her father. And try as Jes might, she couldn’t figure out why.

  Jes was pulled out of her troubled memories when Justice took her hand. It was so easy to feel comforted by him. And for once, she didn’t follow that up with what he was. Right now, she just needed to allow herself a minute of comfort.

  It was very late when they reached Chicago. A thousand miles was a long way to drive in one trip. It was actually a little more a thousand, but who was counting? Justice just knew it was damned long way.

  He took her into her apartment, made sure she was safe, and headed for his own. She hadn’t questioned him, just let him drive away.

  He wished she would have questioned him.

  But he had someone to deal with. And finding Jes didn’t change that. He wished it did. But he could not stop what was about to happen—even if he wanted to.

  Jes didn’t begin to know the danger into which she’d put herself. He’d have to step up his plans if he were going to find a way to protect her, too. He wished he could have kept her out of the coming danger—but she’d placed herself right in the middle of it the moment she’d stepped into that gangbanger’s house.

  And it wasn’t even that gang she needed to worry about.

  It was a much bigger gang—one that had caused both of their families to disappear that day.

  Jes’s apartment was a full hour away from where Justice’s sisters lived. When he reached it, he quietly let himself into Mia’s house. He threw down his keys, and headed for the shower. He stood there, in the shower, for half an hour—letting the water pelt down over him. As if the water would wash away what had happened. As if the water would wash away what would happen.

  And make them all clean again.

  At the end of the half hour, he heard his sister quietly say his name from outside the door—as a question.

  “I’m okay,” he replied in a whisper. Then repeated it louder, so she could hear.

  A minute later, he heard her slippered feet take her back to bed.

  How was he ever going to keep his sisters safe—and Jes? And right now, he was afraid his mother was right, that Jes was in more danger than any of the rest of them.

  Justice hadn’t known Jes’s mother died that day. But he had figured out why their families had left. He just hadn’t told Jes—yet. Somehow, somewhere in his head, he thought the knowing would make it all somehow—worse.

  But it wouldn’t change the facts. He feared she’d made herself visible. That fear had planted a seed when she’d shown up at Second Chances.

  And had taken root with his mother’s warning.

  If he was right, it would only be a matter of days before the gang put out the word that she would have to go down. This particular gang feared Justice—more than they feared just about anyone.

  They feared Justice because he hunted any member that went rogue—and he always got what he hunted.

  But that wasn’t the only reason they feared him—lately. Justice had a secret. He had been raised with this secret—been schooled for it—conditioned for it—taught everything he would need—for it.

  And it had led to two families going into hiding—to lead everyone away from—him.

  He toweled himself briskly, getting dressed with effici
ent ease. His garb was similar to the ancient battle garb of his ancestors, and unlike anything anyone on Earth today had seen. But if anyone were to spot him, nowadays anyway, he knew they would just assume he was in some kind of play, or had some other job that required him to dress in such an outlandish way.

  His mind quickly followed the elusive thread that had been teasing at him all morning: Jes was now in danger, because all these years this particular gang hadn’t been able to track down his family—or hers. But when she’d gone to that gangbanger—they just may have figured it out.

  Not that they hadn’t known who she was all this time. It was just that those in power had kept that knowledge under wraps for a reason.

  But now she may have come under the watchful surveillance of the predators—those who had gone rogue and didn’t follow anyone, save their own leaders.

  Justice had simply disappeared off the map. He’d made sure his sisters did the same—changed their identities—changed their pasts—changed their lives. He’d resurfaced only recently. And this particular gang hadn’t been too happy to learn that the enemy who hunted them, bringing down any that actively went rogue—was also the only person who could force their Alliance.

  But Jes…

  Jes’s grandparents had taken her in. And their position alone had protected her—which was why those in power were able to protect her, keep those who rebelled from learning who she was—or keep them too fearful to do anything about it if they were to stumble upon the truth.

  Her grandparents wouldn’t be happy to learn that their daughter had died that day. They were a force of their own to be reckoned with. And he didn’t think they’d be too far behind him in figuring out how she had died—and by whose hand.

  He hoped he was wrong.

  But Justice was seldom wrong.

  He knew the moment they figured it out there would be a war unlike anything the Earth had ever seen. A war that would make the entire human species acutely aware they were not alone on this planet—like they so obliviously thought that they were.