Out of Sight (10 page)

“I
don’t know how I missed it,” Poppy said. “I wasn’t looking for it, I suppose.”

The staccato beat of rain on the window snapped her back to the present moment, to Sykes and herself, arms entwined and naked.

“We’re in the bedroom,” she said. “You moved us, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” He looked…relieved? Pleased with himself?

“Ben does that stuff. I didn’t think you did.”

“I haven’t before. But there was never anyone I wanted to fly with before. Kept you from landing on your…rear, didn’t I?”

She frowned at him. He didn’t sound at all like himself. “We’ve got work to do. Or I do. Can I borrow a shirt?”

“Aw—do you have to?”

“Yes, I do,” she told him firmly. “And you need pants, if I’m going to concentrate.”

He glanced back into the bathroom, awash with soapy water.

“We’ll clean that up later,” she told him. “This is really important.”

The grumbling sound he made only caused Poppy to giggle. “I don’t feel sorry for you.”

“Well, you should. You’re messing with some really good loving time, lady.”

“I think I’ve just discovered something that’ll be invaluable to us.”

“Like what?” He took out a white shirt and tossed it to her.

Poppy located her thong, put it on and slipped into the huge shirt. Once it was buttoned and the sleeves rolled back five or six times, the thing was still way too big, but at least she could use her hands—and keep his eyes off her breasts for long enough to get some concentration out of him.

The shorts Sykes donned did nothing to deaden the imagination.

He peered through the slatted blinds over the window. “It’s raining hard now. I can see steam coming off the roofs. We’ve got some hours of darkness left before we can get going.”

“Going where?”

He looked at her. “I have some family stuff to deal with. As soon as I get the go-ahead, I’ll explain.”

Which meant he was the one with a time limit and the
we
had been a slip of the tongue.

“It was the brain patterns,” she said, too aware of how good it would be to curl up with him in the bed.
“I just realized something was different. In the four superalphas I saw at Ward’s campaign kickoff.”

Beard shadow already darkened Sykes’s jaw. In the glow that seeped into the bedroom from the bathroom, he was a tall, lithe series of shadows. She shuddered, but not with fear.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. He climbed on top of the mattress to sit cross-legged and patted a space in front of him for Poppy. “Come and explain.”

She joined him, wrapping the tail of her borrowed shirt around her shins. “I told you I see brain clusters.”

“Yeah, and auras.”

“The clusters or patterns fall into specific categories. There are some crossovers, but I know those, too. And depending on the way the patterns behave, I get an indication of what motivates the subject.”

Sykes’s eyes had narrowed. She had his full attention.

“At Ward’s I saw something I never expected to see, not ever—four superalpha brain clusters in one room. That’s four subjects with the most evolved brains that have been typed so far.”

His chest expanded with his next breath. “And you could see—or figure out—what motivates each of them?”

Her heart beat harder. “That’s the kicker. I see everything—love, hate, avarice, fear—those are all common. But all four of these people had the exact same pattern and the same emotional trigger.”

“Hold my hand,” he told her. “And calm down. You aren’t on your own with this.”

“There are always some things we’re alone with, Sykes. You know that.”

Their hands felt welded together.

“So what did these four want?”

“Revenge and power.”

His grip tightened. “Could you tell if it was all for the same reason?”

“It was,” she said without hesitation. “Fear. The room hummed with all the stimulation in it. The brain clusters for superalphas are a chartreuse circle pulsing in the middle of tightly packed clumps of violet spheres no bigger than fine dots. But there was something else and it only just came to me. I don’t even know why it has now. Something different is happening to me.”

He kissed her hand, but didn’t answer.

“You said you wanted to work with me to try to stop the Embran. Do you still mean that? I don’t think I want to do this alone after all.”

“You won’t get rid of me, Poppy. Even if you want to. I don’t trust you.” He laughed.

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I don’t want to have to rescue you when you get into trouble with something out of your league.”

“I—” He was trying to goad her and she wouldn’t let him. “Concentrate on what I’m going to tell you. Of course, it’ll be a piece of cake for you to understand, but listen anyway.”

Goose bumps shooting up her spine surprised her. She wasn’t cold or scared. A careful look into Sykes’s shadowed blue eyes didn’t show anything particularly unusual.

He was guarded.

Well, hoo mama, there was something going on here.

“Poppy?”

“Yes. Those four superalphas I recognized…there was a solid, darker green line around the chartreuse. I don’t think I noticed it at the time, but just now, thinking about what they looked like and what it meant, I did see them. That’s not normal.”

He waited for her to go on.

“They were mutations.”

“You’ll have to explain where you’re going with this,” Sykes said.

“I’ve never seen them before.”

He leaned closer. “I think you already said that, more or less.”

“No—” she had to think about this some more “—I’m not ready to make a determination about them.”

“You’ve already made it,” he said, his voice dark and silky. It was more of a demand than a statement.

She raised her eyes, effortlessly re-creating what she had seen at Ward’s. “I don’t think they were human,” she said quietly.

Absolute silence fell between them. He massaged her fingers, but she doubted if he knew what he was doing. The pressure increased, but she didn’t complain.

“Ward.”
The name burst from her. Agitation scrambled her senses. “I was going to Ward’s. He’d been at the police station with Nat and they let him go home. I said I’d go and keep him company for a while.”

The grip was so tight now she couldn’t have pulled away if she had wanted to.

“Do you love Ward Bienville?” Sykes asked.

That made her angry. “How dare you ask that. Do you think we would have had sex if I loved someone else?”

He shook his head.

Impressions came and went—the black railings outside the Police District house. They had come from Fortunes before that, hadn’t they? “Nat was at Fortunes,” she said. “With Wazoo. He couldn’t have been questioning Ward at the same time.”

“It wasn’t his case…. Other officers were with Ward.”

“Oh, my gosh. I’m losing my mind. I spoke to Ward and said I’d go to St. Louis Street.”

“Yes, but it wouldn’t have made much difference because they took him back in for more questioning. As far as I know he’s still there. It is Nat’s case now.”

“How do you know all this?”

“Nat called when we were on our way here.”

She couldn’t concentrate. “But…”

“Poppy, listen to me. I caught up with you at the police station. You talked to Ward on the phone and said you were going over there. I hypnotized you to stop you from going because we don’t know whether or not the man’s a murderer and—”

“Hypnotized me? Sykes, that’s awful. That’s like, like, kidnapping.”

“I wasn’t prepared to risk your safety. Do what you like about it. Report me to someone.”

“Like the police?” She didn’t like him making fun of her, not now. “You did something really wrong. Of course I can’t go to the police but it was still wrong.”

“I know.”

“I don’t remember coming here.”

“You were still in a trance.” He sounded miserable. “I had to get you away somewhere private until you came out of it.”

A lot of other memories, most of them a great deal clearer, poured back for Poppy. “When exactly did I come out of the trance? Can you explain what we were doing, where we were and why you didn’t tell me right off what you’d done?”

With his fingers, he rubbed up and down on his forehead.

“Sykes?”

“This is more awful than you think it is. Do you remember us making love?”

“Of course I do. Don’t be ridiculous. There’s still water all over the bathroom.”

He groaned.

“What’s the matter with you? Having regrets? You ran the bath and we made love.”

His groan was more agonized this time.

“What? Tell me what’s wrong—other than the obvious.”

“You think I put you in a trance and took advantage of you.”

Poppy thought about that. “I’m not sure. I liked making love with you—a lot.”

“You said you wanted to,” Sykes told her. “You, you—it was fabulous, like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. You’re amazing.”

She shrank inside. “You’re pretty amazing yourself.” But there was something she was missing here.

“Thank you. You liked being in control. Boy, I liked you being in control. I thought we’d kill ourselves falling off that table.”

Cold didn’t come close to describing the state of her skin, before it started to boil. “Which table would that be, Sykes?”

“Oh, hellfire. The one in the living room with the marble top we made love on.”

“And that was my idea?”

“How do I know anymore,” he said, his voice rising. “I’m dying here. I was afraid you weren’t fully out of the trance but you kept insisting you wanted exactly what we did.”

“What else did we do…exactly?”

He blew up his cheeks. “Oh, this and that. It’ll come to you.”

“Jog my memory.”

“Poppy!”

“Do it.”

He brought his hands down on her shoulders and held on. “You liked it, honestly. More than liked it. It was your idea.” His mouth snapped shut.

“Yeah. Did you like it?”

“Oh, lordy, I never liked anything more than everything we did. When you took me out of my pants and made me come, I thought I’d passed into another world.”

Very faintly she got a memory. She tasted him.

“You made me stand in front of you while—”

“Stop!” Poppy shook her head, no. “Okay, I get the picture.”

“And then we changed places and—”

“If you say another word, I’ll—”

“Not another word,” Sykes said. “But you were wonderful.”

“Sykes.”

“Honestly, if you think about it, if the trance was hanging around you were only doing what came to you naturally. It was what you would have done if you weren’t inhibited by—”

“Sykes, I warn you.”

“Not another word. I’m sorry. I thought—at least, I hoped everything was your conscious idea. When you first showed me your breasts I thought—”

Poppy scrambled past him, shot inside the bed and pulled the sheet over her head.

I
’ve got to talk to you.
Pascal’s voice came to Sykes as strongly as if the other man were in the same room.

Lying on his back, Sykes had been listening to the relentless rain on the bedroom window but he leaned to see Poppy’s face. Her eyes were closed and he hoped she really was sleeping.
I know I left at a difficult time. It couldn’t be helped,
he told Pascal.
My fault but we can’t go into that now.

You mean you’d rather avoid the topic of illegal use of hypnosis?

Sykes ground his teeth.
Hardly illegal, Pascal.

As you say, we’ll go into that and other bent rules later. The boy is here, sleeping in my guest bedroom. He’s exhausted. I couldn’t push him too far when he seems sick or something.

Sykes foresaw considerable problems over his unwise practice of hypnosis.
He is probably scared. Had to have taken everything he had to show up on your doorstep like that.
At least Pascal had the skills to repel any straightforward human attack. Sykes pulled
his lips back from his teeth. He really should not have left Pascal—and Marley—alone with a boy who walked in off the street.

Did Gray come for Marley?

Yes. And they both stayed until the boy was in bed and asleep. Or at least in the room with the door shut. We have nothing to fear from him.

Unless he’s some sort of renegade extreme talent.

You believe he is who he says he is, Sykes?

Damn, that’s what this early morning mind chatter was about—Pascal was panicked and Sykes didn’t blame him.
You’re the one to answer that question.
He eased off the bed, grabbed a pair of jeans in passing and carefully left the room.

This is damned embarrassing. Anthony thinks it’s cute. Cute, mind you. He’s talking about what good parents we’ll make for a troubled kid because we’re not judgmental. Says the Goth shows how sensitive the boy is.

Sykes was glad that, unlike himself, Pascal couldn’t summon up an image of a psychic he contacted long distance. If he could, he would not appreciate Sykes’s grin. In fact, without Sykes’s help, his uncle could not track other psychics who were out of his range. They had set up an emergency channel for Pascal to make contact with Sykes, and Pascal was using that now. Fair enough, Sykes decided.

What are you thinking?
Pascal said.

Sykes crept downstairs.
That Anthony’s a nice guy. He has to be to put up with you.

He is more than nice,
Pascal said. He didn’t sound amused.
If the boy is what—who—he says he is, what am I supposed to do about it?

Sykes grinned again.
So you admit this David could be your son?

Pascal’s silence lasted so long that Sykes had time to hop into his jeans and make it to the studio where he turned on the lights and shut himself in. What, he wondered, would Pascal think of the inscrutable piece of marble?

We have all gone through our wild younger days,
Pascal said at last.
I just don’t remember anything that wild.

Being with a woman, you mean?

All these things are a matter of perspective, young man.
This was Pascal at his haughty best once more.

Not all things, Uncle, but many. Where were you when David was, er?

Another heavy and angry gap in conversation began.

He’s eighteen?
Sykes said. If Pascal wanted help with this he would have to be open.

I don’t want to discuss this,
Pascal snapped.
What I want from you is an agreement to take over as head of the family. That way I don’t have to worry about some young punk showing up and saying he has a claim to what belongs to the rest of you.

It sounded to me as if the only claim he’s making is to you. It’s not uncommon for a young person—or anyone, in fact—to want to find a parent.

He imagined Pascal’s shudder and was tempted to take a look at him, but decency prevailed. They did subscribe to the rules of decent privacy supposedly found in the Book of the Way.

Please, Sykes. I haven’t asked you for many things but this is for the entire family. Please say you will shoulder the burden with me while I work out a way to pass the mantle entirely to you.

I don’t want the entire bloody mantle.
Sykes puffed hair out of his eyes.

I meant—um—on paper, of course. I promise I will be your partner. It’s just that we can’t risk some newcomer complicating matters.

Pascal, where were you—

Not now,
Pascal said loudly. Then he lowered his voice.
If you give me your word that you’ll work with me, I won’t kick him out in the street.

That left Sykes without an easy comeback. Finally he said,
That would not be my responsibility.

You don’t feel any responsibility for a boy who may be your cousin?

The stone glistened under the overhead white lights, beckoning. Sykes grew impatient.
First things first. We find out if this boy was conceived while you were in a moment of confusion.

How dare you.

Be cordial. Listen to anything he has to say. When I can get there, I will. It won’t be in the morning.

Pascal made a grumbling noise.
That damnable
Mario has gone to ground. Anthony picked him up at the airport and brought him here. He took off somewhere around the courtyard and we haven’t found him yet.

It took Sykes only moments to remember Ben and Willow’s dog who had been sent home to New Orleans for a vet’s appointment. Craziness.
Willow loves that dog more than she loves you,
he said, deliberately unkind.
You’d better hope he surfaces again. Goodbye.

He let his guard drop firmly and instantly into place and locked Pascal out, at least until he felt he had the strength to deal with him again.

The stone with its amazing shapes and textures magnetized him. With his hands extended, he approached and let his fingers run over the surface. In places it was silky, in other spots the finish was rough. Most of the gold veins had a porous quality, much of the green, especially where it was a brighter shade, felt as if it had been polished.

He checked his watch. This room was soundproofed so he could work without fear of Poppy hearing him, but he didn’t want her to wake up and be confused. He winced. Not more confused than she was already.

She had not insisted on rushing away from the house, although he thought she might have left at once if it were daylight. He wasn’t even sure if she was deeply angry with him for exerting power over her, but was she embarrassed at learning she was anything but an unwilling partner in their…encounters?

Muscles tightened and a shiver went through him. Being with her was unbelievable—but he was willing to try making it real, again and again.

He took up a pointed chisel and a small mallet to refine the line of the arm he had revealed, but he was drawn to the neck. It was young and inclined to one side. As he worked, the lobe of an ear followed naturally and the start of hair, full and flowing away from the jaw.

An image came to him. A woman with a joyful face, but then, he had known this would be a woman. The questions were, who was she and why was she here in his studio?

The hair was fuller than he expected, with wind-swept smooth lines. What he had done was very crude, but he could see where he was being guided.

Then it was all a little jumble, lumpy and almost formless. He hesitated.

He must get back to the bedroom before Poppy woke up.

The overhead lights grew dimmer. Sykes glanced up at them and watched the beams pale to yellow, flicker off, then on, only the shade had turned purple and hovered above his head, a glowing purple cloud.

Sykes prepared himself. He breathed deeply and opened his senses wide, ready for whatever was to come.

Purple turned violet and intense, a fog that shrouded the studio. And he heard whispering. He knew from Marley and Willow that they also heard similar sounds,
particularly Marley when she was traveling. And Ben spoke of faint laughter and light voices in the Court of Angels. Ben also insisted the faces of the angels there changed, but Sykes had never seen it happen.

It is time to discuss the Harmony and what it holds.
This was the voice of Jude. Sykes would know it anywhere.

Welcome,
he told the newcomer.
I wasn’t expecting you.

I am never expected,
Jude said.
Those who went before me hoped it would never be necessary to seek out the Harmony but I begin to be sure the time has come. I have seen things changing.

Through the violet film, fading to mauve in places and drifting into green, Sykes saw Jude. As autocratically handsome as ever, the white streaks in his black hair seemed no more or less than when he had last appeared. His clothing, from another time and place, fitted him perfectly. His image was not clear and although he wasn’t in the semi-invisible state Sykes liked to play with himself, neither was he substantial.

I’ve never heard of the Harmony,
Sykes said, and he didn’t think he wanted to.

It is explained in the preamble to the Book of the Way. It was written by one of our ancestors with help from several unrelated paranormals of his time, members of other families. Families you are aware of.

The Fortunes?
Sykes asked at once.
Perhaps the Montrachets?

Perhaps.

With respect,
Sykes said, aware that he had better be respectful but he was on overload. The past couple of days had come at him like rockets.
With respect, sir, I’d like to see this preamble. If it’s so important at this time, I need to be aware of it. If you want me to do something about it, that is.

You will have to find the angel,
Jude said.
I had hoped you would do so by now, but…
He made a disappointed gesture.

How are we supposed to know which angel we’re looking for?
Sykes said.
There are so many of them.

If you had found her, we would know,
Jude said.
The ones who want this city are acting differently. Expect more of them to come, perhaps many more.

Sykes rotated his shoulders.
Is it to be some sort of invasion, then?

I cannot say with certainty. My concern is for the family and those closest to them. The Harmony was created in case a great power was ever needed. It is well-guarded and beyond price. It is with the angel.

Frustration overwhelmed Sykes. He pointed to the foot-high piece of marble on its plinth.
You sent that to me, you must have. Is it part of the answer?

Hurry,
was all Jude said.
I don’t know how long we have so you must hurry. You need the preamble. It will show you who our closest allies are, the ones we can call on if the worst comes.

Gliding, Jude approached. The book appeared in his hands, large with a heavy gold cover studded with gems.

He turned it to face Sykes and opened the front cover to the flyleaf. This was the Book of the Way, the Millet family rules.

This is our book,
Sykes pointed out.
Why would others have anything to do with what was written in it?

Because we were entrusted with what was written. We were to keep it safe and make sure it was acted upon if it became necessary—for the good of all our kind.

Sykes ran his eyes over the yellowing parchment.
Show me.

Jude turned the flyleaf and smoothed it flat. He put the book closer to Sykes who leaned over it. He wanted to touch the paper, not that he would be allowed to make contact even if he did try.

Close to the spine he saw the ragged edges of a number of pages that had been torn out. He glanced quickly up at Jude.
This preamble you talk about. Is this where it’s supposed to be? Is it gone?

Stolen,
Jude said simply.
And unfortunately I never saw it, so you must find it.

You said you knew all about it.

I know its message but not the details and that is why I cannot tell you more.
He turned several more pages and there, in deep yellow, was a circle divided into segments from its center, like a wheel.
I believe this is the Harmony with its seven partitions. Count them.

Sykes did so and nodded.

There are seven keys needed to open the sections and get to the Ultimate Power inside.

But we don’t have all of them,
Sykes pointed out.

Jude closed the book and began to distance himself.
Liam Fortune may know something,
he said and faded from sight.