Chains of Ice (28 page)

But Jacqueline knew John, remembered him from the past, and she laid her hand on Caleb’s arm, restraining him. “It’s all right. You know him. That’s John Powell, the lost Chosen.”

Caleb nodded. “I remember.” He kept the knife in his hand.

“John Powell, the crazy Chosen?” Samuel Faa was equally angry at being fooled, and he didn’t do restrained displeasure. That guy was open-ass pissed.

“That’s me,” John said easily, and with his hands raised, walked from the shadows into the light around the table.

“John.” Jacqueline rose and walked toward him to kiss his cheek. “It’s good to see you. Are you back in town to stay?” She was, like her mother, a lovely, gracious woman, good at defusing tense situations.

Good thing, because this one was guaranteed to be tense. “Maybe. I heard there was an opening on your team.”

Glances were exchanged.

John waited.

Davidov stepped out from around the bar and strolled over to stand beside John. “I asked John here. Irving asked John here. We knew Isabelle reluctantly accepted the job of leader. We know Gary isn’t the right man for the job. We thought John was a good choice to guide the team. A little background about John Powell . . .” And he talked about John’s military experience, his experience with the Chosen Ones team, and the disaster that sent John fleeing. He told them everything.

John was grateful for that. He had told the truth to Genny. If he had to talk about it, he would talk to Genny.

But that wasn’t possible, was it?

The silence, when Davidov had finished, was profound and thoughtful.

But the knife had disappeared up Caleb’s sleeve.

John took that as a good sign.

“If we take you on, what guarantee would we have that you wouldn’t abandon us in our hour of need?” Aaron asked.

“Yeah, us poor babies have abandonment issues.” That guy Samuel never bothered to restrain his sarcasm.

“I didn’t abandon my team in their hour of need,” John said. “We were in a situation beyond my control. I lost my team, all except one, and that one was Gary. I brought my leader home and left after I knew he was settled. If I am allowed the position of leader to your group, I promise to do everything in my power not to place us, any of us, in situations that are inherently unworkable. With only one team of Chosen alive, we owe it to the children as well as to ourselves to take care.”

Jacqueline testified for him. “John had a good reputation for being sensible about the missions and calm in the face of danger. It was Gary White that created the situation that caused John’s failure. We’ve all witnessed near disasters under Gary’s leadership.” She looked around the table, pinning the Chosen with her gaze. “Davidov’s suggestion is sound. I vote for John Powell to take over the leadership position”—she turned to Isabelle—“if that is acceptable to Isabelle.”

Isabelle inclined her head. “If you know John, Jacqueline, and believe in him, I would be relieved to relinquish the position.”

Charisma nodded.

“Any objections?” Caleb asked.

John watched as Samuel, especially, struggled between his desire to thwart any of Davidov’s suggestions and granting Isabelle her wish. He shrugged halfheartedly.

The other men yielded more easily, although Aleksandr examined John thoughtfully.

The boy was young, but his family had taught him caution.

“That’s decided, then.” Although Caleb’s glance at John promised they would have a talk later.

That was fine with John. The guy looked like he’d been run through a meat grinder. He had his reasons for caution.

John moved to the table and accepted a place between Charisma and Rosamund. Placing his hands flat on the table before him, he said, “Now
I
have a question. Five years ago, when I signed my contract with the Chosen Ones, I was working for the Gypsy Travel Agency. When I arrived in New York yesterday, I at once went to their headquarters.”

Charisma sadly sighed and played with her bracelets.

“There used to be a building there. Now there’s nothing there but faded crime-scene tape . . . and an immense hole in the ground. Perhaps you all could enlighten me?” He raised politely curious eyebrows, but at the same time . . . he was furious.

Because what he wanted to say was—
What the hell happened?

“You mean your friend Davidov didn’t tell you?” Samuel snapped like a junkyard dog.

John wanted to snap back. What the hell was going on here in New York City? “No. He didn’t.”

Davidov brought another round of beers. “I figured it was up to the Chosen Ones to convince John to face the danger on your behalf.”

John glared at the damned Viking. “You never tell anyone anything, Davidov. I swear, it’s your worst trait—and that’s saying something.”

Across the table, Samuel relaxed.

Ah. He didn’t like Davidov, either.

Davidov didn’t care. “Ale?” he asked John.

“Please.” John suspected he was going to need it.

The Chosen Ones glanced at each other up and down the table.

John was pleased to see the solid camaraderie between them, and at the same time, they shut him out. He would have to earn their trust, and that was as it should be.

But for now, they exchanged looks until, somehow, they settled on who should tell their story.

Charisma started. “Back at the beginning—it was about seven months ago—we were all called to the Gypsy Travel Agency building in SoHo to choose whether we would become one of the Chosen Ones. We signed our contracts, some willing, some less willing”—she shot a meaningful glance at Samuel, then at Jacqueline—“and we were called into the New York subway to meet with the seer for approval.”

“Zusane, right?” John remembered the lady as a glamorous bombshell with a foreign accent and a way of making a man feel very, very special.

“My mother,” Jacqueline said. “Or rather, my adopted mother.”

Isabelle took up the tale. “She had been the seer for the Chosen Ones for years, and since she drew her strength from the earth, we had to go underground to meet her. Meanwhile, at the Gypsy Travel Agency, they prepared to celebrate the confirmation of a new team. You know what kind of party I’m talking about.”

“I remember.” Former Chosen always celebrate new Chosen with a huge cocktail hour and dinner, giving awards and making speeches. It was like Hogwarts, but with huge egos everywhere.

“A traitor slipped through security.” Isabelle looked like a fragile young woman, and John knew from the information Davidov had given him that she was an American aristocrat. Yet she recited the facts matter-of-factly, without emotion or alarm. “He set up an explosion in the Gypsy Travel Agency that went off when everyone was in the building.”

“Almost everyone,” Aleksandr said. “We were safe.”

“Zusane sensed the blast at once and went nuts. Caleb led us out of the subway. Irving Shea had been the CEO of the Agency . . .” Isabelle lifted her eyebrows, subtly inquiring as to whether he knew Irving.

John nodded. Oh, he knew Irving. In Russia, he had received letters from Irving.

“Of course, Irving was retired and had been for years. At the time, he was ninety-one . . . ?” Isabelle looked around, seeking confirmation.

She got nods all around.

She continued. “He still went into his office at the Gypsy Travel Agency every morning.”

“Because he wouldn’t let a little thing like retirement get in the way of his work.” Charisma smiled, obviously delighted by the old man’s feisty spirit.

“That afternoon McKenna drove him home for his nap,” Isabelle said. “So he wasn’t there for the explosion, but he came after us. If we hadn’t had Irving, I don’t know what we would have done. His home is a mansion and protected. We all stayed there and we were safe.”

Everybody smiled, happy with her recitation. Charisma twisted a strand of her platinum blond hair around a finger. “The problem was that Jacqueline, who had replaced Zusane as our seer, had never experienced a vision.”

John looked at Jacqueline.

She nodded ruefully. “And the person who had set the explosion at the Gypsy Travel Agency was one of the team.
Our
team.”

John looked around the table.

“That’s why there’s a vacancy.” Caleb flexed his fists. “Jacqueline figured out who the traitor was, and she and I took him out.”

“What about the visions?” John would hate to think the team didn’t have a functioning seer.

“I discovered my way to visions,” Jacqueline assured him.

“She damned near got killed,” Caleb said grimly, sliding his arm around her shoulders.

“Zusane
was
killed.” Samuel turned pale.

“My God, you’re kidding.” When John remembered the vibrant woman, he couldn’t imagine that she was gone. “What happened?”

Jacqueline looked down at her hands in her lap. “I failed her.”

John realized he was treading on thin ice. “I’m sorry, Jacqueline, for your loss. I know you must miss your mother.”

Jacqueline looked up, puckishly amused. “Oh, she visits every once in a while.”

John didn’t know what to say to that.

“The thing is”—the boy, Aleksandr, took up the story—“we’ve done okay. We don’t have a damned bit of experience. All the research material at the Gypsy Travel Agency got blown to hell and gone. We’re totally faking it. But Isabelle has been using Irving’s library to research past Chosen cases, and we’ve been going out there rescuing abandoned babies. And we were pretty proud of ourselves until . . . Gary showed up. At first he seemed okay, just getting his strength back while he observed us. Then he advised us. For sure he tells a good tale about past missions he’s led.”

“I was with him for three years,” John said. “He’s brilliant.”

“And erratic!” Charisma snapped.

“Yeah. That, too,” John acknowledged.

“The guy is crackers—all about treasure and glory; and even when he does lead us out to protect the children, he’s looking for the flashiest way to do it.” Aleksandr took a breath. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m the least of the team and I know it. Mostly I’m just supposed to go to college and be there for computer aid. But I can see when there’s a problem, and that problem is Gary.”

“I don’t like to sound like I’m campaigning for the position, but I can handle Gary, and I will keep you safe.” John accepted a pint from Davidov.

“Why?” Isabelle asked.

Caleb nodded. “Good question.”

Samuel gave her a glance full of pride, then hid his approval in his glass.

“Why what?” John asked.

“Why have you come back? Why now? And why help us when we’re poised on the brink of disaster?” Isabelle hammered home her questions. “You’ve got an ulterior motive. What is it?”

John knew the answer all too well. “Not too long ago, someone told me that if I hold myself responsible for the deaths of my team members—and I do—then I should use my special gifts to destroy the bad guys and make life better for the Abandoned Ones.” The picture of Genny rose in his head. He saw her as she had been that day, standing over him, naked, wet, and glorious, lecturing him, telling him her truths. “She was right. So I’ve come here. I have the skills to help you. I hope you’ll let me.”

The glances went around the table again.

Aaron Eagle spoke first. “We’d like that.”

An understated acceptance, but John was satisfied.

Rosamund spoke up without a hint of self-consciousness. “The most difficult part of the whole situation is that there’s a prophecy hanging out there that applies to this situation, but we know only part of it.”

“A prophecy?” John hated ephemeral stuff like prophecies.

But Rosamund’s eyes shone. Clearly, she loved her prophecy. “When each Chosen finds his or her true love, that is a brick in the wall that defends us against the Others.”

Caleb took Jacqueline’s hand and kissed it. “I always knew it was Jacqueline for me, but after she joined the Chosen and we declared ourselves, I swear, man”—Caleb grinned at John, happier than John could have ever imagined him—“there was this happiness bolt that went through the whole group—”