Storm of Visions (26 page)

But how had Tyler figured it out? Had he overheard Jacqueline talking to Caleb?

No. Not unless Tyler had planted bugs in every room in this house, and he couldn’t have smuggled in the electronics. Caleb considered Tyler with new eyes. Perhaps the guy actually had had a vision.

Isabelle continued. “He also said the devil was on the plane and Jacqueline saw him.”

Jacqueline gave Caleb a short nod.

“I see,” Caleb said.

“So it’s true?” Tyler demanded. “The devil was on the plane that went down with Zusane?”

“Yes, it’s true.” Obviously, Jacqueline had been caught, and she didn’t see the sense of lying now.

“Why didn’t you tell us? This makes all the difference in the world!” Irving looked toward Aaron.

Something passed between them, some message Caleb didn’t understand—and he didn’t like not understanding.

“Yes, Jacqueline. Irving’s right.” Tyler sounded both persuasive and reproachful. “Knowing what we know now, that the devil himself is in charge, means the danger is greater and more immediate than we could imagine. It means we’ve got to approach our defense differently.”

“The devil’s not in charge,” Charisma said patiently. “He’s not allowed.”

Tyler swung on her. “What?”

“The rules are older than even the existence of the Chosen Ones and the Others. Moreover, they’re eternal. The devil isn’t allowed to take a direct hand in the running of the world. He can offer rewards, as he did with the Wilders, allowing them to turn into predators to work his will. He can corrupt men, as he apparently did with this man Osgood, who walked away from the plane wreck—and now we know why. But he isn’t allowed to come here and put a bomb in Irving’s house and blow us all up. He’s not allowed,” she repeated. “He’s not in charge.”

Tyler flushed. “I think it’s not as easy as you imagine.”

“I think he’s right,” Aaron said. “According to
When the World Was Young: A History of the Chosen Ones
, the appearance of demon possession signals new and terrible trouble in the world.”

“What’s this about the devil blowing up this house?” Tyler asked.

With an authority Caleb admired, Isabelle took over, giving him and Tyler the details of Tyler’s vision. She finished with, “The question I’m sure we are all thinking now is—is Tyler’s prophecy correct, and if it is, when will it occur? Should we abandon this house today, or investigate further?”

“My visions are never wrong,” Tyler said.

“That may be true, Tyler, but I’ve never met a seer who had put a date on her—or his—predictions,” Irving replied. “Perhaps we should ask Caleb if he found anything in Samuel’s room.”

“There’s nothing there,” Caleb reported. “Nothing to indicate he ever occupied it. He took his clothes, his toothbrush, everything.”

Isabelle looked down at her hands.

Caleb hated to ask, but he had no choice. “Did he say anything to you, Isabelle?”

Isabelle raised her gaze to meet his. “I haven’t seen him since we were in the attic.”

“If he’s the man who has somehow activated this bomb, he’s cleared out for a reason,” Tyler said.

“A persuasive argument, Mr. Settles, but I won’t leave my home.” Irving nodded at them all. “I do understand if you all wish to flee, but please, be careful out there. This has all the markings of a trap.”

“Maybe Jacqueline could have another vision?” Aleksandr suggested. “I mean, we’ve got two seers; we might as well utilize them.”

“No, I won’t. . . .” Jacqueline shuddered; she cradled her injured hand in her arm, and a sheen of sweat covered her suddenly pale forehead. “That is, I can’t call them up at will.”

It didn’t take clairvoyance to know she feared another vision. She feared being hurt again.

Irving didn’t care. “But you did when you tried.”

Damn the old man. Caleb liked him less and less, for he was willing to sacrifice anything and anybody for his cause. “Let’s let her heal from the first vision before we ask for another one,” Caleb said.

“When you’re thrown, it’s always best to get back on the horse at once.” Irving glanced at Caleb’s stiff jaw, and added, “But of course, we’re grateful to have had a vision from both our seers.”

Aaron cleared his throat. “If you would allow me to speak about something of which I do have some knowledge?”

“Please, Mr. Eagle, we would appreciate any guidance,” Isabelle said.

“I have no parents, of course, but I was raised in the midst of a small Indian tribe in Idaho. Our reservation was poor, the roughest, steepest, most unforgiving part of the Sawtooth Range, and whether we liked it or not, we had to work to survive. So in ways you can’t imagine, we lived as American Indians have done for thousands of years. I bathed in an icy stream every morning of my life. I learned to track and hunt. I was taught to smell danger as it approached, and dodge before fighting.” Aaron spoke without pride, as a man would give his credentials, yet in his voice Caleb now heard the cadence of an Indian’s speech. “The stench of danger is strong in this city, and I would leave Irving’s home if I smelled danger. But I don’t. I respect Tyler’s vision as I would my own, but my advice is to stay together, and stay put.”

“Tyler, what will you do?” Caleb didn’t blame the guy if he wanted to take off. “It must be difficult to ignore your own vision.”

“I don’t remember the vision, and that makes it easier to ignore.” Tyler yielded easily, and smiled with crooked charm. “I can’t leave the Chosen Ones. I believe we’re stronger together than apart. But I still don’t understand why Jacqueline didn’t tell us about the devil. Did I miss that part, too?”

Caleb could see they weren’t going to let this one go. “She didn’t want to alarm you.”

At the same time, Jacqueline said, “Because I didn’t see what my vision got us except early knowledge of something we were going to know anyway.”

“But it was an important element,” Irving said. “For you to discover that the devil himself has found a willing servant who does his bidding and whom he protects . . . That’s exactly what we were trying to discover when we—” He stopped in midsentence.

“When you sent my mother to seduce him?” Jacqueline’s voice, her demeanor, grew icy.

“Not seduce.” Irving’s protestations were feeble, and he knew it. “We never suggested your mother do anything she didn’t want to do.”

“But you knew perfectly well she was attracted to powerful men.” Jacqueline came to her feet.

Caleb had seen Jacqueline in the throes of passion, of fear, of anguish. He had never seen her in such a rage, flushed and trembling.

She had a right to her anger.

“We simply sent her out to check out people, men, of whom we were suspicious,” Irving said weakly.

“You hit the jackpot this time, Irving. My mother’s dead, but hey, at least you know the devil’s abroad in New York City.” Jacqueline walked toward the door.

Caleb moved aside to let her pass.

“Come on, Caleb,” she said, her voice rich with contempt. “The rest of the Chosen Ones can stay with Irving Shea if they want, but I’m out of here.”

C
aleb walked behind Jacqueline. He was sympathetic, yes. He was in agreement with her rage, yes. But however disreputable it might be, his attention was mostly taken up with his appreciation of her magnificent figure as she stalked toward the front door.

The woman knew how to convey displeasure, and look good while she did it. She’d learned more from Zusane than she’d realized.

McKenna hustled ahead of Jacqueline. “Miss Vargha, Mr. Shea would never have asked Miss Zusane to do anything if he thought it was dangerous.”

“Don’t play me for a fool.” Her contempt widened to include Irving’s manservant. “Am I supposed to approve of him sending my mother into a relationship with the devil himself?”

“He didn’t know for sure. . . .” McKenna seemed to realize that argument wouldn’t fly.

“He
suspected
.” She swung on him. “Supposedly he loved my mother. Supposedly he admired her. Yet he willingly sent her into hell?”

“He did love and admire her,” McKenna said. “We all did.”

She trembled with fury. “Yet you know and I know Irving would sacrifice anything—including a woman he loved—if he thought it would keep his precious Chosen intact and the mission going.”

“Well. Yes.” Jacqueline’s wild burst of emotion had McKenna almost cringing with dismay.

“Right.” She turned and headed for the door once more.

If only she realized how much her anger betrayed about her relationship with her mother . . . but Caleb wasn’t dumb enough to try to tell her. She needed to figure it out for herself. But damn, he was getting tired of waiting.

McKenna wrung his hands. “But regardless, Miss Vargha, it doesn’t make sense to go out onto the New York streets when danger stalks you.”

“It’s all right. I’ll be with her.” In fact, Caleb knew better than to try to stop her now. “Get me one of Irving’s hats. We’ll disguise her Hollywood style.”

Before Jacqueline left Irving’s mansion, her platinum-colored hair was hidden beneath a large fedora and her face was half covered with a huge pair of black sunglasses. They stepped out briskly, walking for two blocks toward the Met before catching a cab.

Once inside, she turned to him. “I was right about Irving. He is our traitor.”

Caleb hated to be the voice of reason, but—“Not necessarily.”

“What do you mean?” She was loud. Too loud.

He put his fingers over her mouth and glanced toward the Asian cabbie. Softly he said, “The driver has an execrable accent, but he could easily be one of the Others or one of their employees. You know that.”

She nodded once, resentful because he was right and angry at herself for being so indiscreet.

In a voice pitched to reach only her ears, he said, “Irving has done despicable things for the Gypsy Travel Agency, yes, and considers them justified by the results. But that doesn’t mean he blew the place up. If anything, knowing he approved of sending Zusane out to reconnoiter for them makes me more inclined to trust him.”

“You’re crazy,” she muttered, and sat back against the seat, her arms folded over her chest. “What about my mother?”

“I served Zusane for many years. She was a woman of strong will and fire. She loved drama. She loved intrigue. They could have never forced her to seduce those men. So I think the truth is—she enjoyed her work as a spy.” He waited, but he got no outburst from Jacqueline, which meant she grudgingly agreed. “At the chalk circle, after the explosion, she ordered me to stay with you. I was glad to do it. I thought perhaps it was her way of giving her permission for me to . . . love you.”

Jacqueline’s head swiveled toward him, and her eyes were wary.

He continued. “But now I wonder if she realized how dangerous a situation she faced. Perhaps she even foresaw her own death.”

“And she wanted you out of it,” Jacqueline said.

“Yes.”

“She always loved you.”

“Yes.” They stopped in Times Square to let the mob of tourists pass. Caleb pulled cash out of his pocket and threw it toward the driver. “We’re getting out here.” Grabbing Jacqueline’s arm, he pulled her through the door and into the crowd.

He hustled her along until they reached an upscale pet store. “In here,” he said.

“Are we being followed?” she asked.

“It never hurts to try to lose them, whoever they are.” He especially didn’t want that woman who spoke in his head to find them again. His gut, and Irving’s reaction, told him she was dangerous. “I need dog treats, and I want to say—” He planted himself in front of her, so close their toes touched, so close she had to look into his face and see the truth in his eyes. “I protected your mother because above all else, I owed her my loyalty, and for that, she loved me like a son.” Taking her arms, he pulled her toward him and kissed her once, hard, on the lips. Then he set her back, settled Irving’s hat on her head once more, and said, “Dog treats.”

“Dog treats,” Jacqueline repeated, and touched her fingers to her swollen lips. “No, thank you. I’m not hungry.”

“I thought I’d take you to visit my mother.” Her double take gave him a great deal of satisfaction. “It’s best to bribe her dogs.”

“Your mother?”

“You said you wanted to meet her.”

“Yes. I . . . Yes, I would like that.” Jacqueline looked down at her jeans and T-shirt. “I’m not exactly dressed for meeting anybody’s mother. Not yours, anyway.”

“Ma knows what happened to you. To us.” He dug around in the bin with the teeth-cleansing chews and picked out two, then grabbed a couple of hard biscuits. He flung them all on the counter and stared down the bored and obviously listening sales clerk. “Remember, she sent you her nightgown.”

“Oh. Yeah. Do you think she’ll like me?”

He picked up her fingers and kissed them. “I know she will like you very much.”