Exalted (25 page)

Right after Lille and Cayne had left, Julia had asked them
about the other planes, and Carlin had started crying. Apparently, Shea had
been on one of them.

“Lille knew who...passed,” Drew had choked. “He could
tell.”

Julia tried her hardest not to think about any of the other
Chosen. She felt lucky she didn't know very many of them.

She'd asked about Nathan with a knot in her throat, but
Drew had told her Nathan was okay; he'd been on the last plane to depart, the
plane that wasn't in the air when the others crashed. Even considering his traitorous
past, Julia had felt happy.

Now she wondered what the Chosen would do. What any of them
would do when they met up in Napa. Drew had seen that at least some of them
made it that far.

What was The Adversary's plan? When did he plan to make a
move? What move would it be; pulling the net the rest of the way over Heaven
and pinning it there for good? Julia's stomach did a quick twist, like she was
free-falling on a ride at Dollywood. Drew draped his arm around her.

“Don't worry too much,” he said, “or else Lille won't be
able to get through.”

Carlin leaned around Drew, noticing what must have been a
serious case of Elmer's Glue face and bug eyes.

“Julia—I know! We will watch TV! I love TV in the States!”

So they moved to the couch. Julia was zoned out. Intentionally
zoned out. She just couldn't be here at the moment, so she was thinking about
that time Cayne got shot in Memphis. She had piled pillows around him on the
couch, and then she'd taken a shower. In the shower...Wasn't that the first
time she'd really thought of him like
that
? She smiled a tiny bit at the
memory.
 

 
Drew had the
changer, but all of a sudden Carlin, on Julia's other side, reached over her
and snatched it away. “Go back, Drew! Back, back!”

A female news anchor filled the screen, and Julia actually
flinched, terrified of hearing anything else, but it was her outfit Carlin was
focused on. “That's Hermes! Look at the scarf! Oh, I love scarves! Julia, you
have no scarf, is that right?”

Julia shook her head, looking into the newscaster's green
eyes. Cayne had green eyes.

“I will buy you one!”

Julia nodded. As she examined the woman's scarf, a small
head shot filled a corner of the screen, and Julia almost gasped. It looked
like Cayne—or maybe that was just her imagination. Something about the face
sent creepy crawlies up her spine.

Carlin was still talking, but Julia jumped up. “Shhh!” She
grabbed the changer from Car's waving hands and cranked the volume up in time
to hear:

“Sources say Michael Abiss has spent the past few years in
seclusion, at one of his infamous, unusual homes deep inside the Alps. However,
the chaos here in America and overseas has forced him out of his self-imposed
hiding. In addition to several defense contracting companies, Abiss Holdings
owns the U.S.'s largest fleet of fire-fighting helicopters, and Mr. Abiss has
donated three to fight forest fires in his home area of Bel Air. California and
other western states with raging forest fires have leased sixteen more for what
some sources say totals more than $60 million dollars per day. Meanwhile, the
reclusive billionaire is showing Hollywood's elite a good time, with plenty
of...er, hydration for all.”

The screen panned to a wider shot, and Julia felt like
she'd been punched in the ribs.

“The caves!” Car shrieked. “The caves, the caves!”

Grinning ear to ear, with women under each arm and Cayne's
green eyes flashing in his chillingly beautiful blond head, was one Michael
Abiss—the same pale-haired 'Authority' who'd stepped into the ski lift with
Julia and Cayne at the resort in St. Moritz, laying the ground work for his
plan to use Cayne to kill Methuselah.

"That's him," Julia breathed, feeling shaky.

"Who?"

"The Adversary."

They watched the TV with wide eyes, and Drew muttered,
"Well, I guess we found him."

***

“So they're just partying it up?” Julia murmured.

She and Cayne were sitting on a vintage, orange couch about
two feet from a panoramic view of Birmingham. The city lights still twinkled in
the dark, but the sky was growing lighter, brighter, as the sun came up over
California, where the wildfires burned; over Utah, where a cult leader had, the
night before, encouraged almost a hundred people to jump off a mountain to
avoid Armageddon; over Mississippi, where a teacher had just been fired for
abusing children for two decades; over Louisiana, where levees were straining
against flood waters...

Julia knew these things because for most of the night,
while Drew and Car slept in the other rooms and she waited for Cayne to return,
she'd sat in the king-sized bed in this master suite, looking out over the city
and watching all the news she didn't want to see. She'd had to—to convinced
herself they had to go through with their plan.

Cayne nodded, pulling her closer into the crook of his arm,
where she snuggled into softness of the new black jacket Carlin had
ordered—along with a bunch of other things, including a scarf—through room
service.

“I can tell he's there. The whole place has the same
feeling that Hell did. At least for me.”

“What kind of feeling?”
 

She watched his mouth quirk; he caught his lower lip
between his teeth. “Kind of a jumpy feeling. Like adrenaline. Anxiety.”

“Times a jillion,” she said.

“Yeah.”

“So he lives in a big, white mansion in Bel Air with
columns and tennis courts and a bunch of other stuff, plus a grotto just like
Hugh Heffner's.”

“Bigger. I wouldn't be surprised if we had spent time in an
exact replica."

“Michael Abiss.” Julia shut her eyes. “You know, that's not
even creative.
Abyss
. I wonder why Michael.”

Cayne shrugged. “Irony. It's an old angel name.”

“Has he ever really been on Earth before?”

Cayne's brow arched, and he looked down at himself.

“Besides then, I mean.”

“Maybe a few times. I guess enough to amass a
fortune."

Julia nodded, still a little unable to believe it all,
especially since she'd never really seen The Adversary—at least not since she
knew he wasn't really a blond Authority. “So you guys saw the Demons, too, when
you flew out there tonight?”

“There were some there.”

“Were there any Nephilim?”

He shook his head. “None. They still hate Demons, and
vice-versa. Which means a few might join with Andre and help us.”

Julia nodded. She had a feeling they'd need all the help
they could get. “What do you think he's planning? You think he expects us,
right?"

Cayne shook his head. His lips were pressed together, like
there was no way he was saying what he was thinking. “Those are better
questions for Lille."

“Well he's not here right now," Julia pressed. It had
been too late when they returned around 3:45 a.m. for Lille to report anything
to anyone, but she knew Cayne must have some ideas. Ideas he was reluctant to
share, probably because they would scare the bejeebies out of her.

Cayne rubbed his palm over his head, the picture of a
reticent male. Finally he said, in a gruff voice, “Lille feels strongly that
The Adversary knows.” He looked straight out the window, where a molten, golden
glow was spreading between the high-rises, painting the city streets. “I think
he looks forward to it,” he said quietly.

His green eyes shifted over hers, assessing her reaction.

“Does that mean he has a way to beat us? He outsmarted
Methuselah—”
and us
, she almost added.

Cayne shrugged. “Lille can't tell, and I don't know.”

“Where are the other Authorities?”

“One is still trying to contact the Alpha, at the gates.
Noelle is aiding Nathan. We'll all meet up tomorrow, in Napa Valley.”

“Will it be then?" she whispered.

Cayne leaned his cheek on the top of her head, relaxing his
body against hers. Despite his super Nephilim-ness, Julia thought he seemed
tired. “Lille isn't going to tell us,” he said into her hair. “His mind can't
be read by The Adversary; ours can, so it's best we not know.”

“If The Adversary is already expecting us, though...” Julia
shook her head. She didn't see how they even had a chance. “Will you tell me
what he's like?” Tears sprang to her eyes, blurring the city lights. “He's a
Celestial... Does that mean he's like...”

“He's nothing like Methuselah,” Cayne said flatly. “And I
won't let it go like that.”

“You can't be sure.”

“I'm his son. That's got to be good for something. Our plan
is pretty solid, too.”

“But is it solid enough?”

“It's what we have. Why?” His brows arched. “Have you
changed your mind?”

She shook her head, thankful for the news shows she'd
watched earlier.

“Then try to stop worrying,” Cayne murmured.

“There's no way not to!”

Suddenly, he was on the floor in front of her, kneeling in
front of the couch, clasping her hands too tightly in his bigger, warmer ones
and looking pretty intense for his usual M.O. When he spoke, his voice was low.
“You know what I hate most about this?”

She shook her head. Their eyes were locked, and Cayne's
were wide.

“I hate it that I can't promise you
anything
. I hate
it that I messed this up so much. Now that he's here, I
can't
keep you
safe.” His low voice cracked, and he inhaled like he couldn't get enough air.
“Julia, I'm so very, very sorry.”

There was real regret in his voice. Genuine regret fueled
by fear. It scared her.

“We'll be okay," she said weakly. "And when we
take him down, we'll buy a house on the beach in California, and you'll fly me
over the ocean every night and I'll learn how to cook steak medium rare for you
and give a good back rub when your shoulders are sore.”

“How did you know my shoulders get sore from flying?”

She swatted his face. “You think I don't notice your little
things?”

He shrugged, and for half a second, he looked a tiny bit
bashful. The kind of guy who wasn't really sure about the world, so he was
holding all his cards close to his chest.

Then he kissed her lips, and swept her up into his arms and
carried her to the huge bed. Julia inhaled the wonderful scent of him, and he
proceeded to show her all his cards.

Chapter Thirty-Five

After flying across the country in the early hours of a
sunny October morning, Cayne and Lille touched down in a dew-drenched Napa
Valley vineyard. Cayne set Julia down, and she turned a slow circle, looking
all around.
 
For miles, it seemed, there
was nothing but the fields, except for a small, brown building, maybe a half mile
to her left.

"This place is beautiful," said Carlin, who had
also flown Cayne Airlines. Julia agreed.

Drew, who'd flown in Lille's arms, pointed to the building.
“Is that it?”

“What?” Julia said.

“We're not going to the train depot with the others,” Lille
said. “That's just for...well, for everyone but us.”

“It is?” Julia blinked at Cayne, who shrugged, as if to
say:
Sorry I forgot to tell you
.

“It is. Nephilim are there, other Chosen are there, other
Authorities are there. We're meeting Nathan here.” Lille pointed to the thin
dirt road about ten feet to his right.

“So we're not going to see any of the...anybody else?”

Lille nodded, and Julia felt unnerved by the change of
plans. “Why not?”

“We have things to do here,” he said, and Julia wasn't sure
if he was acting secretive or if that was her nerves.

“Where's here?” she quizzed.

Cayne smiled a little—a small smile that didn't reach his
eyes, but one that was just for her—and he bumped her shoulder gently with his.
“This is a vineyard, city girl.”

“I know that,” she said, surprised to feel that gooey,
sparkly feeling that came with being near Cayne.
Even on a day like this
one.

She was going to ask what they were doing here, but a gray
Land Rover came rolling down the dirt road. Nathan rolled the window down,
sticking his arm out to wave. He looked so normal driving the Land Rover, Julia
had to bite back shocked laughter.

She was really shocked when he honked the horn. They piled
into the SUV like a bunch of high schoolers on a lark, and Nathan explained
that the brown building was used to store barrels of wine.

“We rented this place for a week,” he explained. “There was
a caretaker, probably supposed to keep watch over us, but I told him to go
home."

A few minutes and lots of picturesque grapevines later,
Nathan rolled onto a gravel path that led to the dark brown building, made of
the kind of wood that Julia could picture on a wine barrel. Shaded by a big oak
tree, the building had a charming stone porch with several rocking chairs on
the front, and at the side door, a sign that said
Green Leaf Cellar
.

Carlin opened her door, yammering something about samples,
but Nathan said, “No, Carlin. Get back in.”

“Why?”

Julia noticed Nathan and Lille's eyes meet over Carlin's
head, and Nathan said, “I think I could use you and Drew back at the gymnasium.
Julia, they're asking a lot of questions about you. They fully accept me as
their leader,” he said smugly, “but they know you're the star of the show, and
I think they'd feel better if they at least had your friends to talk to.”

“Is that serious?” Drew asked quietly.

“Of course."