Lightbringer (21 page)

EPILOGUE

JARED ENTERED THE library of his house and paused. His wife stood with her back to him, gazing out the picture window at the brilliant hues of a glorious June sunset while Edgar head-butted her ankle.

His
wife
. The quiet joy of it still amazed him. Choosing to stay on the Terrestrial Plane with Cassie had been no sacrifice. It had been more of a reward than Michael could ever have guessed.

Jared stepped close behind her, offering a bowl of ice cream with one hand while the other caressed her rounded belly.

Cassie took the bowl and scooped a bite of almond praline. “Yum. My favorite.”

“I know. Mine too.”

“Is that a hint?” Cassie turned slightly to feed him a bite. Just then the baby kicked his hand.

“She’s active tonight,” Jared said, wrapping both arms around his wife.

Cassie put the bowl on the window’s sill then lay her hands over his as she leaned back into his embrace. “She knows it’s you.”
*And she already loves you as much as I do.*

Jared rubbed her belly again, immersing himself in the warmth of their love, sharing his happiness and contentment in return.

Eight months ago, that happiness had been in question, even after their victory over Aelziroth. After everything she’d been through, Cassie had had to cope with still more fear and distress. The sheriff had asked few questions, persuaded by the paramedics and the bloody evidence that interrogation could wait. But the medics’ arrival had spiked her fear.

Jared had insisted they examine her first, while Cassie objected it was he who needed their attention. The paramedics had their own priorities and they’d started with her and Crandall. They’d quickly determined Crandall was dead, and that the blood drenching Cassie wasn’t hers. Then both paramedics had moved on to assess Jared. They’d quickly grown serious and efficient, setting up an IV and heart monitor, while Cassie had grown more panicked.

That night was a painful memory, not because of his injuries, but because he hadn’t been able to comfort her. The sheriff had kept Cassie out of the medics’ way at first, and then, when they’d let her close enough to hold Jared’s hand, he’d been too weak to keep the knowledge of how badly he was hurt from her. She’d been terrified he would die, urging him to call Gideon, calling on the Guardian herself. She hadn’t been happy when Gideon told her it was Jared’s choice.

The paramedics had rushed Jared to the hospital and then flown him to Phoenix for emergency surgery. He’d spent a week in intensive care, but he’d had impressed his doctors with his rapid recovery.

A bright memory stood out from those dark days. He’d still been in the hospital when he pulled her onto his lap the first day they let him sit up in a chair.

“Stop it! You’ll tear out your stitches!” Cassie fussed, but didn’t struggle very much.

He drew her close for a long, lingering kiss.
*
I’ve missed this.
* Cassie leaning over his bed for a quick peck now and then just hadn’t cut it.

*Me too.*
Cassie settled her head on his shoulder. Jared stroked her, letting his hand roam, savoring the touch they both needed. As he cupped her breast he felt its fullness, felt her altered response. He slid his hand lower, to her belly, slipping it under her shirt and the waistband of her jeans.

A spark twinkled beneath his fingers, growing inside her. Delight forced a laugh from him, followed by a grunt of pain for abusing his wounds.

*What?*
Cassie sat up, alarmed, and then she sensed the beginning life inside her too, through him. Her emotions swirled in chaos. Shock. Delight. Fear. “What if it’s Tom’s?” she whispered.

*No. She’s mine. Ours. All ours.*
He opened himself, showing her just how pleased and proud he was.

She shook her head at his goofy grin, but her own was just as wide. “I thought you said you could control whether your seed took root,” she teased.

Jared actually blushed. “I guess I don’t have such good control where you’re concerned.”

They’d married less than a month later, on Thanksgiving, with Gideon as best man and Linda as the matron of honor in front of a small group of friends and family. His vow to love Cassie all her life and beyond had created a pulse of Power felt all the way to the Celestial Realm. Everyone present wound up dabbing tears from their eyes, even Dave and Detective Morgan. Gideon had clasped his hand afterward, pulling him close.
*Well done, my friend. I believe fulfilling Cassie’s destiny has made you the happiest being in Creation this day.*
And Gideon had been right.

The Navajo County sheriff had accepted Dave’s story, that his boss had gone crazy and become fixated on Cassie. The bugs in her house, the bomb, the attacks at the cabin and the bridge were all laid successfully, and appropriately, at Crandall’s door. Dave admitted to shooting his boss to save Cassie. The forensics, and Cassie and Jared’s testimony, all backed him up. The Navajo County district attorney had declined to prosecute.

Tom only remembered that night as a good time that had ended on a sour note. And though Cassie’s face had been on the news, apparently Aelziroth’s demeanor was so different from hers, Tom had never recognized her.

To Jared’s grief, Cassie had not escaped unscathed. For months, flashbacks and nightmares continued the abuse Aelziroth had begun. Jared did what little he could to make it bearable. He ached seeing her suffer. There were times, had she asked, he would have altered her memories or taken them from her, despite his belief that all knowledge had value. She knew it, but wouldn’t bend, and wouldn’t let him bend, his principles. Linda had tried to help, but she and Greg had separated, and she’d had her own emotional train wreck to deal with.

The press had added their own tortures. Since MissionOne Security had government contracts, Crandall’s death had made national news. Every cable news company had sent someone to ask if Cassie and Crandall had been lovers, or if she’d foreseen his obsession with her psychic powers. They’d been dogged in their pursuit of her until they got wind of Crandall’s involvement in the opium trade. Then, fortunately, they’d lost interest in her. A few of her former clients had declined to visit a psychic with that much notoriety, but so many more people had sought her services she’d had to turn some away.

Through it all she’d kept her sense of humor, through the press, the mood swings, and the nightmares that awakened her, sweating and weeping. Jared had felt impotent, holding her in the dark as she cried herself out, but she’d called him her rock. All he could do was flood her with all the love in his heart, but that had been enough for Cassie. And as the baby had grown, so had her peace.

Cassie pulled him from his reverie with a kiss.
*Don’t dwell on it,*
she chided gently.
*It’s in the past.*

“All right you two,” Cam said as he strode into the room, followed by Bohdan. Edgar hissed and jumped to the top of the bookcase in two leaps. “Enough with the lovey-dovey stuff. That’s what got you into this fix in the first place.” His grin belied his words. “You’re still gonna name me as godfather, right?”

Jared grinned back. “About time you two got here. Dinner’s almost ready.”

Cam glanced at the bowl of ice cream Bohdan was sniffing. “I would never miss your cooking, Jared. Even if you did start the appetizers without us.”

“Pregnant women get special perks,” Cassie said.

*Especially if she’s bearing a babe with three bloodlines.*
Jared thought back to her.

The End

THANK YOU!

Thank you for buying and reading
LIGHTBRINGER
and allowing me to entertain you for a few hours. If you enjoyed this book, please tell your friends and consider leaving a review on the site where you purchased it. Indie authors depend on word of mouth and good reviews from their fans.

You may also want to read
VEILED MIRROR
, which can be found at
http://thewildrosepress.com
and other online retailers. Here’s a bit about
VEILED MIRROR
:

Beth Hart is alive and well and hunting for her killer. When her brother-in-law Chris and her twin Ellie die in suspicious accidents, Beth impulsively switches identities with her sister to lure the murderer into revealing himself. She can’t rest until she finds the killer—and neither can the real Ellie, who haunts Beth’s dreams.

FBI agent Jason Blackforth fell hard for Beth at Chris and Ellie’s wedding, but he left her as quickly as he found her—undercover work and relationships don’t mix. Now, grieving and believing Beth is dead, Jason is appalled to find himself fantasizing about the widow of his best friend. He wants to help “Ellie” through this difficult time, but she reminds him so much of Beth. His gut tells him that something isn’t right. Can he discover what secrets the widow is hiding and find the killer before they both end up dead?

I enjoy hearing from my readers. You can contact me at
[email protected]
or through my blog,
Frankie’s Soapbox
at
http://FrankieRobertson.wordpress.com
. It may take a while for me to respond depending on where I am in the process of writing or publishing my next book, but I try to answer every letter.

For a sneak peek at
FIRSTBORN
, read on.
FIRSTBORN
takes place in the same universe as
LIGHTBRINGER
, though it’s not part of the Celestial Affairs series.

Best wishes,

Frankie

FIRSTBORN

CHAPTER ONE

February 1979

I LOOKED UP from the keyboard of my DEC 10 computer terminal and smiled as Barry Mackson leaned into my windowless, closet-sized office. My office, if it could be called that, had indeed once been a butler’s pantry in the old Victorian that now housed the San Diego chapter of the Trust. A knee hole for my legs had been carved out of the lower cabinets, and I perched on a padded bar stool to key in data on paranormal activity occurring in Southern California. There wasn’t much data most days, so I also spent a fair amount of time playing
Pong
.

Instead of leaning against the wall and proposing an evening stroll along the Embarcadero or a margarita in Old Town like he usually did, Barry stood rigid, his fair-haired good looks set off by the dark wood of the door frame. We’d been dating for about a month. Last night his persistence had paid off, and we’d made love. The memory of his smooth broad back under my hands, his heat filling me, shot an arrow of excitement between my thighs. My pulse sped. I wondered if we could take off for a long lunch, but his next words shot that idea down.

Barry flashed the quicksilver grin I found so appealing, but it wavered around the edges, chilling the warmth rising in my belly. “Come with me. Mr. Foxworth wants to meet you.”

I didn’t even try to hide my shock as my eyes widened. “
Foxworth?
” That was definitely not what I’d expected Barry to say.

Isaac Foxworth was the omnipresent but faceless head of the Trust—at least that’s how it seemed. His presence and influence was everywhere, in every decision, even though he wasn’t seen. He didn’t need to be. All he had to do was make his wishes known, and Kincaid and the other chapter heads executed them without question. Mr. Foxworth didn’t visit the local chapters, and he didn’t take meetings with lowly data processors like me.

I shut my mouth and fell into step beside Barry, anticipation quickening my pace.”What’s going on?” I asked softly. I didn’t want to draw Betina’s attention, even though the receptionist had to know Mr. Foxworth was in the building. Betina didn’t gossip. No one who worked for the Trust did and kept their job. But her sharp eyes gave the impression that every event she observed was being filed away for future use.

Barry shot me a sidelong glance. It only increased my anxiety. “That’s for Mr. Foxworth to say.”

I followed Barry up the curving, dark wood staircase to the second floor, then a narrower, dog-leg stair to the third. His muscular butt was at eye level, distracting me a little from my nerves. He surfed most weekends, and he had the butt and thighs to prove it. It was partly my desire to squeeze those buns that got me into the sack with him. Unfortunately, the view didn’t last. Too soon we were at the top floor. Barry opened a six-panel door and let me precede him into the chapter head’s office. Dark wainscoting and glass-paned barrister’s bookcases lined the walls. Mr. Kincaid’s broad desk took up most of the space in front of the wide bow window, but he wasn’t sitting behind it. Another man was silhouetted there, his face hard to make out with the afternoon sunlight shining brightly from behind him. A coffee service sat to one side, but he didn’t offer us a cup.

He rose and gestured at the leather club chairs facing him. “Please have a seat, Miss Benton, Mr. Mackson.” He didn’t bother introducing himself. He didn’t need to.

Apparently Mr. Foxworth hadn’t heard that Ms. was the preferred form of address for women in the workplace these days, but I wasn’t going to correct him. I sat, smoothing my suit skirt under my butt the way my mother had taught me. For a moment he just looked at me in silence, as if he knew what I was thinking. I tried not to fidget.

“Are you involved with anyone at the moment, Ms. Benton?”

I barely noticed he’d switched to using Ms. This wasn’t the sort of question an employer ought to ask, but then the Trust wasn’t the usual sort of employer. Somehow I kept myself from glancing at Barry.
He knows. Why else would he ask?

“I just recently started seeing someone.” The Trust had no official rule against dating a co-worker, but I saw no reason to invite trouble.

Mr. Foxworth nodded, as if that were the correct answer. “And are you a virgin?”

I was glad now he hadn’t offered coffee. I might have spewed it across his polished mahogany desk. As it was, I gaped and felt myself color. Never in my wildest nightmare had I imagined being asked such a question by a man old enough to be my grandfather. A man who could fire both me and Barry with a word.

Sunlight backlit his silver hair, giving the impression of a halo, though the arrogance radiating from him didn’t seem in the least angelic. I wished I could see his face, read there what his interest in me was, but ultimately it didn’t matter. I liked my job, and I wanted to keep it, but I wouldn’t be cowed. “That’s none of your business, sir.”

Foxworth chuckled. “Normally, you’d be correct, Ms. Benton, but the Trust has an important project in mind for you, and your answer is pertinent.”

The Trust collected and collated information about anomalous events and paranormal activity. Why could they possibly need to know about my sex life?

Barry touched my hand briefly. “It’s okay, Marianne. I already told Kincaid.”

“What? Why?” I glared at Barry, boggled he would share that intimate memory with our boss. He gave me a weak smile, but he didn’t meet my eyes. I returned my attention to Foxworth. “So you know I slept with Barry. I won’t deny it. We’re healthy adults. There’s nothing wrong with what we did.”

This was surreal. Why would the head of the Trust come to San Diego for this? Were they about to fire us? But if that was all it was, Kincaid would have done it.

“No, Ms. Benton, your jobs are safe.”

My attention sharpened. This was the second time Foxworth had seemed to read my mind. Was that how he kept close tabs on everything within the Trust?

“Mr. Kincaid told me you’ve been sleeping with Mr. Mackson, but I needed to learn how comfortable you are with your sexuality. That’s why I’ve asked you these personal questions. Our project requires a discreet young woman who has nevertheless embraced the modern, more progressive cultural attitudes.”

Now I was really confused.
He wants a woman who doesn’t think sex needs to be saved for marriage
. That described most of the women I went to college with. What was this all about? I was pretty sure this wasn’t personal. The sexual vibe wasn’t there, and there were much better ways to find a mistress. “Why?”

“You will not be under any compulsion to accept this assignment. You are free to refuse. However, what I’m about to tell you is quite delicate. Regardless of what you decide, you cannot discuss this with anyone outside the project, not even within the Trust. Do you agree?”

My curiosity was piqued. There was no way I could refuse without knowing what this was about. “Yes, of course.”

“You’ve heard of the Golden Path?”

I entered information into the Trust’s database from all over. “Yes, they’re a fraternal organization that likes to use occult trappings in their meetings. They sponsor a children’s medical charity and host an annual fund drive.”

Foxworth nodded. “On the surface, that’s all true. Publicly they’re the fraternal organization you described. Beneath the surface, however, they’ve been influencing trade and governments in Europe for several hundred years. The Trust has long known there was an occult connection, but we thought they were mostly dabblers, that their interests were mostly of the usual sort. Only recently have we learned they have access to a true Power they’ve been drawing upon.”

“A Power?” The capitalization was clear in his voice, but I wasn’t sure what he meant by it.

Foxworth’s brows drew together in a frown, but he continued in the same even tone. “An Elemental. They’re using it to pursue goals that are becoming increasingly ambitious and alarming. The decisions of world leaders are being manipulated by magic to adopt policies and instigate wars so Upton and other companies can profit from arms sales and raise prices of scarce resources. They’ve used spells to create unnatural outbreaks of disease so they can sell medicines. People are suffering, all for profit and power. Their influence is growing. It’s all quite legal, and quite evil. We need your help to pull the plug on them, to cut them off from the source of their Power.”

My stomach clenched. Politicians were influenced enough by money. What hope did average people have of controlling their own lives if magic was being used to stack the deck against them? What Foxworth was saying was horrible, but what did he expect me to do about it? “How am I supposed to do that? I don’t know magic. I’m not even psychic!”

“Actually, the tests you took when we recruited you show you have a fair amount of latent talent, but that’s not what we need from you now, Marianne. May I call you that?”

He might as well. He already knew about my sex life. He couldn’t get much more personal. I nodded.

“The Golden Path has an Elemental held captive. A Spirit of Power whose strength they’re syphoning to use for their own twisted purposes. This Elemental volunteered a thousand years ago to protect the last surviving child of a leader destined to bring order to the world. Unfortunately that man failed, but the Spirit, Aldwyn, is bound to his line. Over the centuries the man’s enemies evolved into The Golden Path, and approximately 160 years ago they discovered a way to bind and use Aldwyn’s Power. He’s been serving them unwilling for well over a century. It is our goal to eliminate their unnatural influence in Europe and the Middle East. To do that, we need to free Aldwyn and prevent them from regaining their hold over him.”

All very interesting, but he still hadn’t answered my question. “What has this got to do with whether I’m a virgin?”

Foxworth pressed his steepled fingers against his pursed lips and considered me for a moment.

I knew I wasn’t going to like what he was about to say.

“Lucius Altesse is the owner of Upton Industries.”

I frowned. He still wasn’t answering my question. And what did an international conglomerate have to do with this? “I’ve never heard of him.”

“That’s because he prefers to keep a low profile. Altesse lets the CEOs of his various corporations take the limelight. He doesn’t need or want the public’s interest. He’s one of the Circle of Five, and the man who holds Aldwyn in thrall. He’s guarded both by magic and by mercenaries.

“His son Conrad, however, has just transferred to UCSD. Altesse the younger is not fond of restrictions or his bodyguards, so you should be able to get close to him.”

I was still waiting for an explanation, and I was starting to feel annoyed. “And do what exactly?” I asked a bit sharply.

Foxworth ignored my tone, answering in the same measured cadence he’d used all along. “Seduce him and conceive his firstborn child.”