Catherine Spangler - [Sentinel 02] - Touched By Fire (v5.0) (html) (11 page)

“But I didn’t see anything that we didn’t already know.” Even though what she had seen had been horrifying.

“I did. I saw how it’s transporting the bombs, inside a backpack. And I saw an older blue Toyota Tercel. And a map of the state of Texas, which means it’s probably on the move.”

When he mentioned those things, Marla realized she’d seen very quick flashes of them as well. But she’d been derailed by the other images, while Luke had been able to keep his focus. “Do you think he—it—is driving the blue Toyota?”

“Most likely. But I couldn’t get a fix on where it was headed.”

“Did you see the license tag?”

“No, but it’s possible I will on the next conduction. That’s how the process works, with information revealed in layers.”

“Oh.” Disappointment swept through Marla. “So is there anything we can do?”

“I’m afraid not. All we can do at this point is to wait for it to surface again.”

“With another bombing.” It was more a statement than a question—she already knew the answer.

Luke nodded, his face grim. “Yes. With another bombing.”

SEVEN

THAT evening, Luke waited until Marla fell asleep before he called Adam. He usually sent e-mail reports, but felt the situation warranted a phone call. Adam answered on the second ring. “Hello, Paxton. I’ve been waiting to hear from you.”

“Hello, Adam.”

“Since you’re calling rather than communicating through e-mail, I assume things are not going as planned. Did Ms. Reynolds refuse to assist you?”

Luke felt a slight twinge of guilt about his methods of persuasion, shoved them back before Adam could pick up on them. “No, actually, she is helping me.”

“But?”

“There are a few problems. As I mentioned in yesterday’s e-mail, Marla is highly empathic. She tapped into the Belian’s emotions at the shack yesterday. Then during our first conduction today, it happened again. I’m not sure I can keep her fully shielded.”

“Interesting. I would guess a foray into a Belian’s psyche would be very upsetting for a human.”

“It makes her physically ill.” He felt the punch of worry, also shoved that back. He knew better than most the folly of getting emotionally involved with someone. “I’m concerned about possible long-term effects.”

“Probably just an immediate biological reaction rather than anything permanent. She should be fine.” Adam’s rough voice was cool, logical, with the unemotional detachment of a highly evolved Sanctioned. “Would you consider the conduction a success?”

“To an extent, yes. But that’s another thing. We didn’t consummate the conduction.”

“She refused?”

“No. She . . . she’s sexually inexperienced. I’m the one who made the decision to keep it nonsexual.”

“Inexperienced? As in
no
experience?”

“Yeah. The lady has never had sex, or so she says.” Luke thought of Marla’s pale, pinched face, of the way her hands had clenched the chair arms when she told him she was a virgin. Of her genuine pain. “I have no reason to believe she’s lying.”

“Unusual. She’s how old?”

“Thirty. I think something happened to her to make her close off from relationships with men. And it doesn’t appear to be a sexual preference for women.”

“I don’t believe she’d be a conductor if it were otherwise. I’m glad to know you’re adhering to our laws.” Steel warning edged those words, and Adam paused before saying, “Tell me what you learned from the conduction.”

“The Belian is making more bombs. It carries them to the crime site in a backpack. I believe it’s driving an older model Toyota Tercel, medium blue, maybe ten years old. And it was studying a map of Texas, so I believe it’s not staying in this area, that it’s on the move. But I saw nothing that would tell me where.”

“Unfortunate. Perhaps another conduction would give you more information?”

“I don’t think so. We can try, but I think we need to wait a day. I’m not sure Marla could handle another one so soon. She’s no good to us if she has a mental breakdown.”

“Point taken. She is an innocent, and falls under our protection. As it is, events have already been set into motion. I don’t think we would be able to stop the next strike, regardless.”

That meant he’d had one of his visions—which were never wrong.

And that there would indeed be another bombing. Soon.

 

 

TUESDAY was a good night to detonate,
he thought. There were a lot of people in the building. The University of Texas in Austin had almost 50,000 students, and the library was always busy, especially at night. Even more so with the school semester winding down, and many students completing term papers or studying for exams. All of them were purveyors of blasphemous information. They deserved to be punished.

The blood would be an offering to Belial.

He hoped
she
was watching. He had sensed her earlier today, felt her mind touch his. Not a Sentinel, he was certain. She’d exuded a different energy, and hadn’t been strongly shielded. He wanted her to feel his power, to know how clever and strong he was.

Standing in the dark shadows of one of the dorms, he opened his backpack, and pulled out a remote. He looked younger than his years and dressed in jeans and athletic shoes and a Longhorns jacket, he looked like the students who crawled over the campus day and night. No one would suspect him.

He detonated all the devices. There were three on the first floor. Although he didn’t have the pleasure of seeing the explosion this time, he saw the implosion of the glass windows from the two bombs, and the flames and smoke from the incendiary device, which he had cleverly placed near the main entrance.

He imagined the flying shards of glass and nails that he had embedded in the Semtex; the stacks of books collapsing, the screams . . . and the blood.

There were two more incendiary devices, one in each of the main stairwells; a bomb on the third floor and one on the fifth floor. All were detonated. Smoke was pulsing out now; people erupting from the entries, some screaming, many injured. He knew more were trapped inside.

“Hook ’em, Horns!” he said with a smirk, making the trademark symbol of longhorns with his right hand. Certainly
she
would appreciate his keen sense of humor.

While he would dearly love to stay and watch the show, maybe even mingle with the wounded and pretend to be helping, he knew it was too risky. So he closed his backpack, slung it over his shoulders and strolled to the parking lot where he’d left his car.

He looked back with satisfaction as he drove away.

Belial was very pleased. And
she
couldn’t help but be impressed with his brilliance.

 

 

LUKE was working on his laptop when his cell phone rang. He snagged the phone, saw the identity of the caller. He’d already e-mailed his daily report, so this couldn’t be good. “Hey Adam. What’s up?”

“There were just some bomb explosions in Austin, at one of the university libraries.”

“Shit. What time?” Luke looked at his watch, noting it was 9:30 p.m.

“Thirty minutes ago. Marcus heard it on the police scanner and notified me. It’s probably the Belian.”

“Yeah. Not too many known bombers in Texas right now. We’ll be on the road within an hour. I’ll notify you when we get there.” Luke disconnected and ran his hands through his hair.
Damn.
He knew in his gut the bomber had to be the Belian—and it was escalating, going from buses to buildings.

It was a good thing Adam had Sentinel initiates stationed around Texas, monitoring police scanners. It had only been thirty minutes since the explosion. Luke would move faster this time. The Belian would likely hang around a day or two to gloat, and to plan its next course of action. Luke
would
get the son of a bitch.

He powered down his laptop and closed it, already running through a mental checklist of things to do. Striding to the open back door, he swung out the screen.

Marla was sitting on the metal loveseat, one leg tucked beneath her, the other swinging back and forth. She had on her stylish padded brown jacket over jeans and a turtleneck, and was drinking a beer as she stared up at the sky.

She was something else, he thought, with her satiny smooth skin, her large golden eyes, and that mass of chestnut hair. Even the stylized glasses perched on her nose were cute. Bryony, curled next to her, growled at him as he walked over.

She glanced toward him, her expression relaxed. “You ready to get off that computer and come enjoy this beautiful evening?”

She was obviously a little more settled since the conduction yesterday. They’d spent today on the Harley, exploring the Brazos Bend State Park—at the opposite end of the Belian’s shack. They’d eaten dinner at Woodburners Barbeque, and bought ice cream at the Kwik Chek to bring back to the house. He’d discovered that when she wasn’t under duress, she was warm and laid back, not at all anal like he figured an accountant would be. Unfortunately, relaxation time was over.

“We have to leave.”

“Why?” She put her other foot down, scooted to the end of the chair. “What is it?”

“Another bombing.”

“Oh, no.” She got to her feet. “Where?”

“Austin. One of the campus libraries.”

The color drained from her face. “Oh, God. More students.”

“Looks that way.” A cold, calm sensation came over him, and all emotion was shelved, for now. He was going into Sentinel mode, ready to do battle. “We’re heading out as soon as we can pack up.”

Marla took a deep breath, and he could almost see her steeling herself. She was a warrior in her own right, although she didn’t realize it. “Okay,” she said. “Just tell me what you need me to do.”

 

 

THEY didn’t get on the road until and hour and a half later, because Luke made a few phone calls—terse conversations too low-pitched for Marla to understand. Then they had to take Luke’s motorcycle to a storage unit. He had a truck, a killer silver Nissan Frontier, parked behind the house, and felt it would be easier to travel in that. After the phone calls, he packed them up efficiently and quickly, and once the motorcycle was stored, they were out, headed north on Highway 36.

Bryony was delegated to the back extended cab area, which made her very unhappy. But she merely growled at Luke as he put her back there. Maybe the poodle had figured out that she would get zapped if she kept up the psycho dog routine. Or maybe she was beginning to accept Luke.

That was the case for Marla. It was strange, but she felt like she’d known him a long time. They’d been together—what day was this?—only three days, but in that time she’d come to trust him. And trusting men did not come easily to her.

Not only did she trust him, she believed his incredible story about Sentinels, Belians, and conductors. Even more disconcerting was the physical attraction she felt toward him. Part of that was simply the Sentinel/conductor link, but even when there was enough physical distance between them, Marla still felt a pull.

She glanced over at him as he drove, calm, steady, and in total control of the truck and everything around him. He had his hair tied back, and his profile was strong, chiseled, perfect, like a mythological god. She could feel his tension, though, could tell he was upset, although the signs were subtle. She suspected he was always cool and collected, even during the most chaotic situations.

She sank back, fatigue pulling at her, and was appalled that she could be sleepy, especially in view of the fact people were lying bloodied and probably dead in Austin.

Luke glanced at her. “Tired?”

“No.” She straightened up. “I’m fine.” She shouldn’t have had that last beer. She’d been drinking way too much lately. But the way her life had gone these past days, she figured she was entitled. Still, the least she could do was stay awake and keep Luke company.

“You’re such a liar.” He fiddled with the radio dial, found a classic rock station. The notes of an Aerosmith song pounded out. “Why don’t you get some sleep? These last few days have been tough.”

“They haven’t been any easier on you.”

“I’m used to it.”

“I don’t see how you could ever get used to tracking down monsters that mutilate and murder without conscience.” She wasn’t just thinking about Belians as she spoke. She fervently hoped William Bennett continued to have his parole requests denied, and that he died a miserable death in Huntsville Prison before his insufficient twenty-year sentence played out.

“What I should have said is that I’m used to putting in long hours and going without sleep when necessary. I’m able to keep tracking down Belian monsters, because then I can send their sorry souls to burn on Saturn.”

“
Souls?
Those things have souls?”

“Yeah, they do. We all come from the same source, the same Creator. But with free will, we have choices. Belians chose to follow Belial those thousands of years ago, and continue to do so.”

“Well, damn,” she muttered.

“You’ve picked up some bad language since you’ve been around me. I’m guessing you don’t generally use some of the words I’ve heard from you.”

“So I’m impressionable. And you’re a bad influence. What’s this burn on Saturn you mentioned?”

“Sentinels can kill the physical body of a Belian, but we can’t destroy the soul, which is basically indestructible. If we just kill the Belian’s body, the soul will find another outlet, either by reincarnating into a new body or possessing one that’s already on Earth. So we send its soul to Saturn for rehabilitation.” He shot her a feral grin. “It’s not a pleasant experience.”

“Kind of like hell?”

“Very much so.”

“Good. Any chance mere mortals who also perform heinous crimes get to do a stint there as well?”

He looked at her again. “Did you have anyone particular in mind?”

She mentally slapped herself for letting thoughts of Bennett continually creep into this situation. He was in the past, and she needed to put it behind her. “There are just a lot of bad people in the world,” she said. “And they’re not all Belians, are they?”

“No, they’re not, thank The One. I don’t know if the souls of regular humans do stints on Saturn or not. But I do know one thing: Karmic laws apply to all of us. What goes around comes around, and we’re continually being offered opportunities to rise above our imperfect human nature and operate out of our higher spiritual selves. To experience and create grace.”

“I guess that’s probably good.” But a part of her fervently hoped Bennett burned in some sort of hell a long time before he achieved grace.

“It is a good thing. Otherwise, we’d all be in deep shit.”

She had to laugh at that, felt the tension inside her ease a little. She managed to stay awake for most of the drive, although they spoke very little.

They reached Austin a little after two in the morning. Marla yawned and stretched her stiff muscles as they headed into the city. “Where are we going now?”