The Prophecy (Daughters of the People Series Book 1) (26 page)

“Ok, well, if
you’ll tell me who she is, I’ll be sure to warn her.”

He smiled. “Oh,
my sweet, you are a breath of fresh air and I have thoroughly enjoyed our
conversation.”

That made one of
them. For her part, the whole incident had confused the hell out of her. The
only thing she was sure of was that Lukas Alexiou was as mad as the Hatter.

“But, we must be
going. I have instructed my colleagues not to harm you. Unless you want me to
kill one of them for doing so, please do not antagonize them.” He walked over
and, bizarrely, pressed a kiss to the top of Dani’s head. “They will be forced
to retaliate and the whole thing will spiral downward from there. Be a good
girl, will you?”

“Sure,” she
said, though she had no intention of doing any such thing. Staying where
kidnappers put her wasn’t in her nature, and it wasn’t a lot of fun either. She
glanced around, tallying the number of men around her with a clearer eye. There
was a lot of fun to be had inside that warehouse and she didn’t want to miss a
minute of it.

Lukas patted her
head, smoothing her hair back. “There, now. That wasn’t so hard was it?”

He pivoted and
left. Dave speared Dani with a long, intense glare, a warning unless she was
sadly mistaken, then followed the Shadow Enemy’s leader out of the warehouse.

Dani turned and
met Amelia’s fearful gaze evenly. The sight of the girl tied to a chair pissed
Dani off good. She inhaled through her nose and pushed it aside. Anger didn’t
make for a clear head, and she needed every wit she could scrape together if
she was going to get them out of this mess. “You ok, kid?”

Amelia jerked
her head up once, then down. “Yeah. You?”

“Never better. Give
me a few minutes to get out of this duct tape and we’ll be on our way.”

A man wandered
over, Stocky from the rooftop. His lip had been cleaned, though it was still
cracked. Maybe he’d have a nice scar as a reminder not to mess with Daughters.
He pointed to two other men and gave them instructions to drag John out of the
way, then turned a murderous stare on Dani.

She cocked an
eyebrow and smiled coyly, suppressing a weary sigh. It was gonna be a long
night.

* * *

An escort met
Maya at James’ apartment nearly an hour after they’d parted ways outside
Director Upton’s office. Maya stowed her gear in the trunk of one of the luxury
SUVs the IECS maintained for just such occasions. The sturdy vehicle was
equipped with bulletproof glass, armor plating, and other security upgrades.
The gas mileage was horrible, but it was one of the safest vehicles available
to them.

James yanked the
door open as Maya was raising her hand to knock. He held a small carry-on bag
and a slightly larger suitcase. She grabbed the suitcase and waited while he
locked his apartment door, studying him from under lowered eyelashes. The skin
under his eyes was still too dark and there were lines on his face she’d never
noticed before. He moved slowly, deliberately, nothing like the steady,
energetic man she’d come to know. Everything that had happened since Labor Day flashed
through her mind, the last time they’d made love, telling him about the People,
Amelia’s kidnapping and the death of his ex-wife. She bit her lip and followed
him down the stairs and outside. He probably hadn’t slept well since then, and
at least part of it was her fault.

The air in the
back of the SUV was uncomfortably tense during the ride to the airfield in
Gainesville and the airplane the IECS kept there for dignitaries and to provide
emergency travel. Maya and James were driven straight to the hangar, and from
there escorted out to the waiting plane.

Four other
people were already on board, all immortal Daughters renowned for their skills
as warriors. Alafair originally hailed from the Anglo-Saxon kingdom of Wessex.
Brigid was also from what had become the British Isles. She smiled politely at
Maya and James as they approached. Hawthorne’s fiery temper had led to more
than one unfaithful man losing his head, and probably good riddance. The fourth
Daughter, Greta, had immigrated to the Midwest with her immigrant grandchildren
some hundred years before and had settled in the South after their deaths. Maya
greeted each of them with a nod. Thank the Blessed Mother the director had been
able to gather such a good group on what amounted to a moment’s notice.

James settled
into a seat next to a window, to the rear of the four women seated together
near the front of the passenger area.

The plane was
too small for privacy, as much as Maya would’ve liked it. She sat down across
from him, relaxing into the seat. “You should get some rest. We’re not liable
to get much once we arrive in New York.”

He scraped a
hand across his face and yawned. “Don’t think I could.”

“At least close
your eyes for a while.”

He did, drifting
into sleep a few minutes later, likely lulled by the steady thrum of the
plane’s engines. Maya found a light blanket and draped it over him, then took a
pillow from the overhead storage and tucked it gently under his head.

He was too pale.
Poor man. To have his ex-wife murdered and his daughter kidnapped on top of
everything else. Even with her strength, there were things Maya couldn’t protect
him from. She slumped into her seat, arms crossed over her stomach, her legs
stretched out in front of her. The darkest side of the curse she lived under
wasn’t the continual fighting, the ever-present prickle of knowing someone was
coming after you. It was being unable to protect those that meant the most from
the life she and the other immortal Daughters were doomed to live.

Maya
deliberately emptied her mind and closed her eyes, dozing off and on during the
short jump to New York. A few minutes before they landed, she woke James,
giving him time to pull his thoughts together while the pilots went through
their landing routine.

Not long after,
Maya, James, and the four Daughters loaded themselves and their gear into two
vehicles and headed for the home of a mortal Daughter who’d agreed to house
them overnight. Night had fallen while they were in the air. Maya fixed her
gaze on the streetlights whizzing by as they made their way along the crowded
causeways. James sat beside her, staring out the opposite window.

So much distance
separated them, physical, emotional. It might as well have been a mile as the
length of the backseat. Sharp regret roiled through her. Damn it, she should’ve
told him sooner, should’ve given him a chance to come to terms with it before
they made love. Maybe they could’ve avoided the distance that had sprung up
between them. Maybe if she’d told him before, he wouldn’t have reacted the way
he had and they could face this threat together.

When their
vehicles rolled to a stop along the sidewalk outside Ella Deyton’s home, the
lights in every room of the house seemed to be on. Ella had only been mortal
for three years. She and her now husband had met while Ella was in New York on
vacation, taking a break between one duty and the next. They’d fallen in love
and married, and though Ella was a Southerner by birth, she’d opted to live
with her husband near his family.

Ella’s husband,
Greg, opened the door and invited them in, leading them through the house into
the kitchen. Ella was sitting at a small table, nursing her infant son. Upon
seeing the child, Hawthorne, Greta, Alafair, and Brigid instantly melted from
battle hardened warriors into cooing admirers, all crowding around the infant
as if he were the next Messiah.

Maya lowered her
head, hiding a smile. In a way, he was. The birth of a Son was always heralded,
not least because it was preceded by the breaking of a curse.

Ella and Greg
had prepared a meal for them, so they sat and ate and talked, sharing and
gathering news. James sat quietly, eating his fill, his attention apparently on
the discussion bandied back and forth around him. Maya leaned close and
whispered, “You ok?”

He nodded and
jerked his gaze away from hers.

Ella put Maya
and James in a bedroom together, apologizing for the lack of space as she paired
the four Daughters off and led the immortal women to other rooms. Maya followed
her through the house, noting where the other Daughters would bed down and
making sure they had what they needed.

A short while
later, she returned to the bedroom she and James had been assigned. He was
staring blankly at the double bed, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his
jeans, his shoulders slouched.

Maya closed the
door and cleared her throat. “Ella doesn’t know we’re, ah, not together. I can
sleep somewhere else, if you’d rather.”

“We’re both
adults,” he said flatly. “I think we can handle sleeping in the same bed for
one night.”

They took turns
getting ready for bed in the room’s bathroom, then turned the lights out and
settled down on opposite sides of the mattress, not touching, not speaking.

An odd pressure
filled Maya’s chest and climbed into her throat. She turned on her side away
from James and buried her face in the pillow, determined not to regret the
past. She couldn’t undo it no matter how often she second-guessed herself, and
it was futile to try.

The mattress
shifted. A warm arm slid around her waist as James curled around her. “Don’t
cry.”

She placed a
hand over his, holding him to her. “I’m not.”

“You’re
sniffling.”

She sighed.
Busted. “Not on purpose. Go to sleep. You need the rest.”

His arm
tightened around her. After a long moment, he said, “I haven’t forgiven you.”

“I know.”

“I probably
will, though.”

The pressure in
her chest eased slightly. “Really? You’re not still mad?”

He huffed out a
short laugh. “I’m pissed about the whole thing, you hiding things from me, my
daughter getting mixed up in this blood feud, and Linda being killed. She was a
good woman, Maya. She didn’t deserve to die.”

There was
nothing she could say to that, nothing at all. She stroked her fingers over his
hand, comforting him as much as she could.

His breath
feathered across her shoulder. “Will you tell me about your life?”

She turned over,
facing him, tangling her legs with his. “Someday.”

“Dierdre told me
a little.”

“Oh?”

“She came by
while I was packing and we talked.”

“Hmm. Dierdre
breaking the rules to talk to you about my past. Now, there’s a surprise.”

He laughed
softly. “She loves you.”

“I know.”

“Don’t ever hold
anything back from me again.”

“Only if I have
to,” she promised.

He blew out a
breath, then kissed the tip of her nose. “I guess I can live with that.”

Maya snuggled
into him, breathing in his woodsy scent, so grateful for his touch, she ignored
the uneasiness continuing to ping through her gut.

The household
woke early. Daughters streamed up and down the stairs and in and out of rooms,
comparing weapons, discussing possible scenarios, rehashing plans. Once
dressed, Maya riffled through her weapons bag while James brushed his teeth and
shaved. She sorted them into two piles, those she could possibly conceal and
the ones she’d carry in specifically so they’d be taken.

James came out
of the bathroom and let out a low whistle. “Are those really necessary?”

“Yes.” She
perused him from head to toe. “How comfortable are you wearing an ankle
holster?”

He shoved his
hands in his pockets and fixed his gaze on the mini-arsenal she’d assembled. “No
idea. Never worn one before.”

“Please tell me
you’ve at least shot a gun.”

“Er, well, no.”

Maya pressed the
heels of her hands to her eyes. “When we get back to the IECS, you’re learning
how to shoot.”

“Ok.”

She opened her
eyes wide. “Ok?”

“Yeah.” He
hunched his shoulders, let them fall. “We need to learn how to handle ourselves
better, me and Amelia, especially if we’re going to be…”

“Going to be
what?”

He rubbed a
finger over the tip of his nose and his lips twitched. “You know. You and me.”

She definitely
wanted a you and me with him, later, when they’d sorted out Amelia and the
artifacts and went home to Tellowee.

“Right.” She
selected her Keltec .380 from one of the piles. “Ready for a crash course in
guns?”

He accepted the
gun gingerly. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

She ran him
through the basics of holding and shooting the gun, and exchanging clips. He
was a fast learner, but still fumbled with its unfamiliar feel.

The third time
he bobbled it, she said, “Just relax.”

“It’s really
light.” He brought the gun up again, attempted a two-handed hold, and dropped
his hands. “This isn’t as easy it looks on TV.”

“No, it’s not.
Try not to put both hands up when you’re shooting.” She pulled his arm up and
adjusted his one-handed grip. “The pistol is too small for that. If you’re not
careful, you could take a finger off.”

He paled. “Er,
gotcha.”

“Point the gun
as if it were your finger, ok? And remember. Aim small, miss small. The range
for this gun is short, so wait until your target is within about ten feet and
aim at the torso. Otherwise, you’ll probably miss and piss somebody off.”

“That would be
bad,” he said mildly.

The ankle
holster gave him a little trouble. Maya made him walk around the room with the
holster on, both with and without the gun inserted. Eventually, he walked
naturally, casually. She helped him put a clip holder on the inside of the
opposite ankle and had him walk some more. When she was certain he was as
comfortable as he could be, she chambered a round in the Keltec, ejected the
clip, loaded another bullet, then slipped the magazine back into place,
inserting the gun and the extra clip firmly into their respective hiding spots.

“Ok, you’re
set,” she said. “All you have to do now is draw, point, and shoot.”

James peered
down at his ankles. “Ah, what about the safety?”

She nodded. At
least he knew that much about guns. “This gun has no safety. The first time you
fire it, you’ll have to pull back firmly on the trigger, about an inch. After
that, shooting will be a lot easier.”

“If it’s that
easy, how do I keep from blowing a hole in my foot?”

“It won’t go off
until you pull the trigger,” she assured him. “Just make sure that if the
police come, you take the gun off and kick it away from yourself before you can
be seen holding it. Carrying a gun in New York without a permit is a felony.
Better to get rid of the gun before you’re caught with it, ok?”

Maya sorted through
the remaining weapons and handed him a wickedly sharp folding knife. “Carry
this in your coat.”

He slipped it
into the inside pocket of his jacket and eyed her as she tucked weapons of all
shapes and sizes in every location they’d go, ending by strapping her short
staff to her back.

“Won’t they
search us?” James asked.

“I’m counting on
it.” She smiled as she adjusted the fit and angle of the staff. “I’ll be
heavily searched. That’s why I’m carrying all these weapons. Chances are good
they’ll miss one.”

“Right.”

“You, on the
other hand, will probably get off lightly, since you’re a man.”

“Is that some
kind of reverse discrimination?” He cocked his head, a small smile lifting the
corners of his mouth. “I think I’m offended.”

“Discrimination
is discrimination, no matter whom it’s perpetuated on,” she said lightly.
“These people are far more scared of Daughters than they are of a mortal
language expert.”

“Ah. Ok. I won’t
take offense then.”

“Good.” She
stood on tiptoe and kissed him. “I’d hate for you to be offended because I’m a
better fighter.”

“What can I say?
I’m really secure in my manhood.”

She patted his
cheek. “You should be.”

* * *

They left Ella’s
house a short time later, James, Maya, and the four Daughters they’d traveled
north with all crowded into one vehicle, an SUV outfitted exactly the way the
one in Tellowee had been. Maya sat on James’ lap, creating just enough room in
the backseat for Hawthorne and Brigid. The closer they came to the meeting
point, the more his body tensed and the harder his fingers dug into her hips.

Three blocks
away from the meet, Alafair stopped the SUV and everybody piled out. She and
Greta jogged off in one direction, Hawthorne and Brigid in another, each pair
heading toward the teams already in place. As long as Maya, James, and Amelia
were in no danger, those teams would hold back. If the situation turned deadly
or if an opportunity arose to regain the artifacts, they’d move in with the
fury and ferocity of their warrior ancestors.

Maya slipped
into the driver’s seat, James into the seat beside her. His hands were unsteady
on the seatbelt. It slipped out of his fingers and he grimaced. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.
Everyone’s nervous their first time out.”

He cut a
side-eyed glance at her. “It’s that obvious, huh.”

She smiled and
tucked her hand into his. “Only to someone who’s been through it before.
Ready?”

He jammed the
seatbelt in place and stared out the windshield. “As I’ll ever be.”

She started the
SUV and eased onto the road, driving carefully, her eyes scanning the road
ahead and the area around them. They reached the meet a few minutes later. The
abandoned warehouse was situated in a block of outdated industrial buildings.
Some of the upper windows of the warehouse were broken and the tin roof had a
huge dent in it. Weeds grew through cracks in the pavement and along the sides
of the buildings, catching trash as the wind blew through the alleys and along
the roads. Half a dozen burly men gathered at the main entrance, guns holstered
at their sides.

Maya parked
fifty feet away and cut the engine. “Remember, I’m your security. Don’t go in
if I can’t go with you. That’s not part of the deal, ok?”

James scrubbed
his hands down his thighs. “Sure.”

“Follow my lead
and try to stay behind me if things go south. Only use your gun if we’re
separated.”

He hunched his
shoulders around his ears. “I’d already forgotten about it.”

“That’s ok,” she
said, her voice calm and even. “You’ll move more naturally if you forget it’s there
and that’ll deflect suspicion away from you. As long as you remember it’s there
if you need it, you’ll be fine.”

James inhaled
slowly, releasing the breath on a huff. “I’ll remember.”

“Ideally, you’ll
never have to use it. That’s what I’m here for.”

Two men
separated from the group and walked toward them, one waving his hand at Maya
and James. She opened her door and yelled, “Stand back. We’re getting out now.”

The men stopped
and waited as Maya and James exited the vehicle and retrieved the three cases of
securely packed artifacts from the SUV’s cargo area. As Maya suspected, she was
thoroughly searched with a surprising professionalism. Sometimes, the Shadow
Enemy hired mercenaries and thugs to do their dirty work, and they weren’t
always concerned about how well they did the job.

Nearly all of
her weapons were located and confiscated. The only two she had left were a
small knife she’d tucked into the front waistband of her jeans and the staff.  One
man pointed at it. “Boss says we should take everything.”

Another man
snorted and waved the first man off. “It’s just a stick. She can’t do nothing
with a stick.”

Maya smiled
sweetly. Oh, the naïveté.

The men were
much less thorough with James, catching the knife, but not the gun. Maya
trained her eyes on the men, well away from James’ ankle and the weapon hidden there.
Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to use it, and neither would she.

The artifacts
were inspected last. Maya refused to hand them over, instead opening each one
herself, displaying the artifacts for the man apparently in charge. At last, he
nodded and waved toward the door. Two men escorted Maya and James inside,
walking to the side and slightly behind them.

The brightness
of early morning dimmed inside the warehouse. The poor condition of the exterior
belied its sturdiness. Boxes stacked on pallets were located at regular
intervals throughout the front half and the concrete floor was clear of dust
and debris.

The back half of
the warehouse was full of people. Maya counted eighteen men scattered across
the room, plus two men standing near two people secured to chairs. The older
man was dressed in a fashionably tailored suit, solid black. The younger wore
jeans and a t-shirt under a light jacket. Like the other men, the casually
dressed one had a handgun holstered at his hip, while the man wearing a suit
appeared to be weaponless

The occupants of
the chairs captured Maya’s attention. As expected, Amelia was one, but what was
Dani doing there? Director Upton had issued strict instructions for the younger
Daughter to hold back, orders Dani wouldn’t have broken without good reason. Had
something unexpected happened?

Maya snagged
James’ elbow and halted twenty-five feet away from Amelia and Dani.

The sharply
dressed gentleman stepped forward and held his hands out, palms up. “Welcome,
friends. You’re right on time.”

“We have the
artifacts,” Maya said. “Release the girl and we’ll turn them over.”

“What? No time
for a little chat?” His mouth twisted into a mocking smile. “Let’s at least
exchange introductions. I shall go first because, well, it’s my party. Lukas
Alexiou, and this is my right-hand man, David Winstead.”

Maya assumed a bored
expression and bit her tongue.

“And you are
Maya the Protector, I presume, accompanied by the talented James Terhune. It is
a pleasure to meet you both. Mr. Winstead, would you please cut Miss Terhune
loose? Careful now.”

Winstead pulled
a pocket knife out of his jeans and cut the ropes securing Amelia to the chair.
She rubbed her wrists and allowed the man to pull her up by the elbow without
protest.

Lukas cleared
his throat and adjusted the knot in his tie. “Before we begin, I must take a
moment to express my deepest condolences to you, Dr. Terhune, on the death of
your ex-wife. It was never my intention that she be harmed. The gentleman
responsible will be dealt with appropriately, I assure you.”

James sucked in
a breath, and Maya cringed inwardly.

“Thank you,” he
said, and Maya sighed. At least he’d stuck to a tactful response.

“I see my men
left you your staff, Dr. Bellegarde. I tried to impress upon them the
importance of removing all your weapons, but they simply could not believe a
woman wielding a stick could be dangerous. Would you care to give a small
demonstration for their benefit?”

“Perhaps another
time,” Maya said.

“Of course. I
trust you’ll not feel the need to use your staff while under my protection.”
Lukas’ gaze dropped to the cases James held. “And now, for business. Mr.
Winstead, would you be so kind?”

Winstead
murmured to Amelia and she stepped forward hesitantly, walking slowly across
the concrete floor until she stood in front of her father. The teenager
partially blocked Maya’s view of Alexiou and Winstead. Maya shifted subtly to
the side, positioning herself with a clearer path to them.

“Dad,” Amelia
said, her voice trembling. “Mr. Winstead told me to take two of the cases back
to him.”

James tensed.
“Can’t you stay here and let me take them back?”

“No,” she
whispered. “He told me to do it.”