“That really put the cap on the delusional theory.”
“I know it’s hard to believe. But it’s true. All of it.”
There was a moment of silence. “You believe this insane story? Is that why you took off without telling us anything? You just sent that e-mail that didn’t sound at all like you, and took Bryony. She is with you, isn’t she?”
“Yes, yes, Luke sent that e-mail, and yes.”
“Marla, you need to get away from Paxton and come home. We’ll sort through this together, visit Dr. Jackson and—”
“It’s true, Jules, all of it. Let me ask you something. Do you feel anything strange when you’re close to Adam or when you touch him?”
“Well, there’s a bit of a sensation, like static electricity. But it could be his carpeting or his shoes, or any number of logical explanations.”
“It’s not. It’s the energy that is created when a Sentinel and a conductor are in close range of one another. Have Adam take off his shoes and go outside. Stand on the sidewalk or the ground and then touch him. It will still be there.”
“I seriously doubt that. Marla, maybe they’ve brain-washed you or drugged you.”
“No, they haven’t. Listen to me, it’s all true.” Marla paused, wondering how to convince Julia. “What about your unusual tendency, Jules? You know, how you’re able to predict things before they happen. That’s not logical and scientific. How do you explain that?”
“It’s just an aberration. Some sort of chemical alteration that occurred in my brain after—after that night.”
“Jules, the monster we’re hunting is the one who blew up that busload of children in Houston, and the university library in Austin. We believe its next target is in Dallas. It’s not human, and Adam is not lying. I’m going to Dallas with Luke.”
“This is crazy,” Julia said, but she sounded shaken.
“Adam won’t force you to do anything. If you ask him if you can leave, he’ll have to let you. It’s your choice.”
“He already told me I was free to go. But then he pointed out I wouldn’t know what was happening with you. What a jerk.”
Marla glanced at Luke. “They can be pretty manipulating. Listen, you don’t have to get involved with this, but I’m seeing it through. I’ll try to call you every day so you’ll know I’m okay. Tell Mom and Dad not to worry, okay?”
“Wait a minute. You really believe this whacked-out story?”
“I not only believe it, but I’ve seen firsthand evidence to back it up.”
“Oh, this is just great.” There was another pause. “Well, then, if you insist on going to Dallas, I’m coming, too.”
“It’s dangerous, Jules, and . . . difficult.” Her sister had no idea how disconcerting or terrifying. “You don’t have to do this.”
“I’m not leaving you alone with these arrogant nutcases. I’ll drive my car back to Houston and fly to Dallas from there. Paxton’s boss can find his own way. I’m not going anywhere with him.”
Marla wouldn’t argue with that plan. She wasn’t at all sure she wanted her sister alone with Adam Masters, especially if they were a Sentinel/conductor match. He couldn’t begin to comprehend how damaged Julia was, or how a conduction might unbalance her.
“That sounds best, if you insist on doing this,” she said. “I’ll e-mail you tonight, from an address you can answer. I have my cell phone back, and I’ll leave it on, so you can call me, or I’ll call you. Is that all right?”
“I guess it will have to do,” Julia said grudgingly. “I’ll be in Dallas tomorrow, then. And Marla, I love you.”
A lump formed in Marla’s throat, and her eyes blurred. “I love you, too. Good-bye.” She closed the phone, wiped her eyes. “She’s coming to Dallas.”
“Here.” Luke opened the console between them and took out a box of tissues, which he offered to her. “It’s good your sister is coming. Adam says she’s precognitive.”
Marla took some tissues, blew her nose. She was turning into an emotional wreck. “What does that mean?”
“That she can see events before they happen. I gather from your conversation that you were aware of this.”
“Yes. She’s been that way since—”
Great, Marla, just spill your guts in a weak moment.
“Since her early twenties. Luke, her being in Dallas isn’t a good idea. I don’t think she can handle this. She’s not . . . whole.”
He was silent a moment. “We each have a purpose for being on Earth, and we’re not alone in our journey here. We have help, and we’re given the abilities we need to do what we came to do. Sometimes you just have to trust in a higher power or the universe, or whatever you want to call it.”
He had a point. Maybe it was time to start some heavy-duty praying. Because from what she could see, they desperately needed a miracle.
HE could communicate directly to
her
.
Marla
, an unusual but not unacceptable name. Of course, he was brilliant and had numerous talents, so he wasn’t surprised that he could mentally project to another person. But Marla had been able to respond, and he was certain that was a sign she was highly intelligent and special. It was logical that she was superior and therefore meant for him. He deserved nothing less.
He caressed the metal-studded form of his newest creation, the implement of Belial’s wrath. He thought of the old, stately structure that would crumble when he detonated this bomb, how the people within—those spreading blasphemous knowledge about a false god—would suffer and pay for their sins. Belial would bathe in their blood. He got hard, thinking about it.
As his arousal increased, his thoughts shifted back to Marla. She would be impressed with this upcoming victory, would know he was unstoppable. She would naturally be attracted to him, as most women were. Holding the bomb in one hand, he reached down to touch himself with the other hand. He couldn’t wait to fuck her, to finally have a woman worthy to receive his seed.
Thinking how he would bask in her admiration while he sated himself in her body, he stroked himself harder and faster.
He’d communicate with her again. Very soon.
MARLA hadn’t been to Dallas in years, but the view of downtown was much as she remembered it, with its modernistic look created by odd-shaped buildings and walls of steel-encased shimmering glass, grouped around the ball-topped column of Reunion Tower, all spearing upward into the sky. It wasn’t much different from Houston, although it was smaller and created a different profile against the skyline.
It felt strange being here. She’d rarely left the Houston area since that night, and although she had known she was hiding behind self-imposed restrictions, she hadn’t realized just how much. A part of her thrilled at seeing the changes to Dallas, and at simply being somewhere new, while another part of her was frightened to be venturing so far from her safety net. Even more unsettling was finally facing the fact she’d let life pass her by, too wounded to really live. She’d missed so many opportunities.
She glanced over at Luke. Way too many opportunities—although she’d never have a shot at someone like him. Still, it was time she stepped out of the shadow of the past. The sobering pall of the past few days settled over her, and she amended her resolve to first getting through this horror.
They drove past the downtown skyline, through moderate early afternoon traffic and to a residential area in north Dallas. This was an older middle-class neighborhood, as evidenced by the larger yards and generous houses, some of them getting a little worn. Luke pulled into the driveway of a two-story house of brick and siding. It was one of the worn houses—with the brown paint peeling on the trim, some damage on the roof, and junk on the porch. The yard was poorly maintained, with grass that needed cutting and shrubs that needed trimming. There were no flowers to soften the desolate look.
“Home, sweet home,” Luke said, without emotion. He turned off the ignition and opened his door. “You get Bryony and I’ll get the stuff.”
Wondering at both the house’s shabby appearance and his attitude, Marla snapped the leash on Bry’s collar and let her jump down.
Bryony wanted to explore the yard, and Marla finally had to pick her up and carry her to the house. As she approached, she saw that the glass storm door was badly smudged and the porch siding had dirt and spiderwebs on it.
Luke shook his head and made a sound of frustration as he opened the storm door. “She’s just as bad as Beau.”
“Who are we talking about?” Marla hefted Bryony more securely beneath her arm and walked into a small foyer. The beige tile floor needed mopping and the small rug was covered with tracked-in leaves.
“Barrie, my little sister, and Beau, my older brother.” Luke looked around in disgust. “They never do anything around here. Although Barrie’s the only one living here with any regularity.”
“Where is Barrie now?”
“She’s at work. I called her last night while you were showering. She’s a patrol officer for the Richardson Police Department, and she has a swing shift. Doesn’t get off until six tonight. Then she has a karate class, so she won’t be in until later.”
Marla looked into a large, wood-paneled great room with a large stone fireplace at the other end. The room was cluttered with clothing, mail, and a few dishes piled on the coffee table. There was a gun case filled with rifles against one wall. She wondered if a weapons cache was a staple in a Sentinel household. “What about your father?”
“He’s rarely here. He travels wherever the Sanctioned need him,” Luke said in that flat tone. He stared at the great room a moment. “Dad pretty much lives on the road.”
Marla felt his tension, decided to leave it alone. “I see. Okay, where should I take my stuff?”
Before Luke could answer, a huge orange and white striped cat strolled up to rub against Luke’s legs. Bryony went ballistic, barking like crazy, and leaped out of Marla’s grasp. The cat hissed and ran down the hallway, Bry in hot pursuit.
“Bryony!” Marla started after her, but Luke stretched out his hand, and Bry levitated four feet into the air. She hung there with her leash dangling, her legs skittering back and forth, still barking and trying to catch the cat.
“Wow. I’m impressed.” Marla walked into the hallway and retrieved Bryony from suspension. She turned to smile at Luke, wishing she could relieve the sadness she sensed from him. “That’s quite a talent, Mr. Paxton.”
He flashed his killer grin. “Oh, I have a
many
talents.”
I’ll just bet you do
, she thought, feeling a rush of heat though her body. Geez, her long repressed libido had proclaimed its independence big time. “So is that cat vicious?”
“Naw. Crash is a big baby and a lover. Although he could do some serious damage to Bry if she ever caught him.”
“
Crash
? What kind of name is that?”
“That’s a ‘huge cat who runs into things and knocks them over’ name.” Luke glanced around again, shaking his head. “While I can’t get my siblings to do anything around the house.”
“You can’t do everything.” Keeping a firm grip on Bry, Marla picked up her suitcase. “Where should I put this?”
“I’ll take it.” Luke got it and her smaller case. “I’m going to put you in Beau’s room, although we’ll probably have to sterilize it before you can sleep there. All our bedrooms are upstairs.”
Marla followed as he led the way, noting the dirt on the stairs and the clutter in the upper hallway. Beau’s room wasn’t too bad, although it needed a good dusting and vacuuming. The queen bed was neatly made, and the floor and furniture were debris free. There were two tall bookcases filled with books, and a desk and chair along the wall next to them.
“I take it Beau likes to read,” she commented.
“Yeah. He was the smart one. Went to college on a full scholarship.”
“Didn’t you go to college? You said you were in the service, but you didn’t mention if you were an officer.”
“You have a good memory. I did go to college, but not on scholarship, although I maintained a 3.5 average. I got a degree in criminal justice then went into the Air Force as an officer. Security Forces. It was a good way to learn about the criminal mind and how to track and defend.”
“A 3.5 average sounds pretty smart to me.”
He shrugged. “I had to work for it. Beau always breezed through. He was the studious type. I was into sports.”
“And girls?” Marla couldn’t resist asking. She remembered well the popular athletes from high school, always surrounded by girls.
“Of course. That’s the best part about being a jock.”
“Now look who’s a smart-ass,” she muttered.
Luke grinned and turned toward the doorway. “Let’s see if there’s anything to eat around here.”
It turned out the fridge was pretty bare—milk, orange juice, a bag of apples, some leftover pizza and Chinese carry-out. “That brat.” Luke closed the door. “Barrie’s a fast-food junkie and rarely eats at home. Her idea of a good breakfast is found at the Burger King drive-through.”
“Let me guess. She has the high Sentinel metabolism and can eat whatever she wants. She is a Sentinel, isn’t she?”
“Yeah, she’s a Sentinel. Any child born to a couple where one or both are Sentinels always has the power. And yes, she has a high metabolism.”
“That’s disgusting.”
Laughing, Luke grabbed her arm. “Come on, grumpy. We need to do some grocery shopping, and then we can get down to the Belian hunting business.”
“Typical Sentinel. Always thinking about food.”
“Always. It’s a primary concern.”
They went to a Kroger and bought an outrageous amount of food, along with wine and beer. Marla had fun shopping with Luke. His laid-back sense of humor was irresistible, and she found herself laughing a lot, despite the unsettling sexual tension that throbbed between them like an incessant ache. Luke seemed to take it in stride, and she was learning to ignore it, for the most part.
They took the groceries back to the house, unloaded them, had a late lunch, and then went to work.
