Chasing the Storm (14 page)

Five approaching. Scattered formation. The weapons, their clothing. Them. All of it, he could smell. Flexing his fingers along the hilts of his weapons, he waited for the most opportune moment. Sure, they had guns and he didn’t, but he wasn’t fearful. Guns had a way of making someone feel overly cocky. These were his woods—he’d spent many hours learning and playing in them. No chance they would survive.

He could hear the whispers between them and held motionless as the first one moved by him. Waiting with patience he knew would make Tiarnán proud, Cale didn’t stir until he was behind the man. Then he struck. Swift. Silent. Deadly.

Assisting the body as it fell to the ground, he ensured it made no sound. Then he set off on the next, even as he wiped his blade off on his pant leg. He removed two more with deft actions when a bullet slammed into his shoulder. Grunting, he dropped and rolled to a new position, angry at himself for being caught unaware.

Damn it. That fucking stings!
He called on his power to heal him and set off after the one who’d pulled the trigger. His anger grew as he realised he’d been thinking about Taylor.
It’s just like Tiarnán said, I wasn’t concentrating.

He could hear some faint cries from the other New Order fools and their communications grew murky between one another. His sign shoved him down and another bullet thunked into a trunk near him. This time he got it.
Sniper
. It was barely a millisecond later when the tree blew up and showered him with wooden, spear-like projectiles.

“We’ve got snipers. They’re using some sort of exploding bullet.”
He sent the warning even as he took up shelter behind a different tree. Not that it would matter if the shooter launched another of those bullets.

Neither of them responded and he didn’t take offence—not much got in their way when they fought. He flared out with his power and found the general area the sniper was located.

Using his speed, he ran for the hiding spot and roared with fury as he launched himself at the man. He’d been using night vision—Cale could tell from the green glowing eye around his head. That was the first thing he ripped off, plunging the bastard into darkness.

Still, his downward strike with his knife was blocked. This one wasn’t a man off the street they’d given a weapon to. He was an experienced fighter. They exchanged punches and drew blood. In the end, poised to take the intruder’s life, Cale raised his knife for the final blow.

“We need one for questioning.” The male voice floated from the darkness.

Cale growled but lowered his blade and said, “This is your lucky day, fucker.” Before the man could reply, Cale used his elbow and knocked him out.

“Are they all taken care of?” he asked, getting to his feet.

“Yes.” Tiarnán pushed by him and hefted the man like he was a sack of groceries.

“Dracen?”

“Doing what she does.” Tiarnán walked back towards the mansion. “You okay? I smell your blood.”

“Fine. One of the bastards shot me. It’s being healed.”

His brethren grunted and let it go. Just like when they were younger, Cale felt bad, as if he’d let him down. They each had their strengths and Tiarnán’s was fighting—it wasn’t Cale’s.

He fell into step with the hazel-eyed Guardian, and they made their way from the darkened woods to the open meadow before the mansion. Cale slanted a glance to the tall man beside him. The moonlight barely touched him—he blended in so seamlessly with everything, even when he was out in the open. However, he could see a bit. Chiselled features set in anger as his long strides ate up the ground before them.

He didn’t take him to the front door. No, they went towards the back and a door opened silently for them, admitting them before slipping back into place with the same absence of sound. The hallway was dotted by floor lights that shone a soft amber.

The hall spilled out into a semi-circle surrounded by cells. With an impersonal touch, Tiarnán stripped the man down to his skivvies and tossed him in one of the cells. Then they took his clothes to a table and went over them, checking for tracking devices. The cell would sweep the man for any others on his body or in the final item of clothing he wore.

“What do you think prompted this?” Cale asked, dismantling a gun as Tiarnán worked on another one and Dracen walked in.

“I think with the re-emergence of the first artefact, yours, the creatures are itching for their chance. Since the rules state they can’t come here and bother Lian, they have decided to see if they can get their human puppets to do the work for them and either capture the items, or flush us out,” Dracen spoke.

Cale lifted his head to check out his sister. Her eyes were cold like Tiarnán’s—nothing but business. Blood splattered along her skin and he knew it wasn’t hers. Not even a scratch marred her black leather pants or tight leather shirt. She appeared every inch the warrior he knew her to be.

“Go be with your woman, Cale.” She didn’t even look at him, instead she stepped up beside Tiarnán and began looking over the impressive array of weaponry the intruder had brought tonight in the futile attempt to breach the mansion.

Setting the automatic rifle down, he nodded then headed for the door. A quick glance into the cell and he saw the man still lying on the floor, unconscious. He didn’t pause, for the man didn’t deserve his sympathy. He wouldn’t have extended any to him outside had he been able to land a shot. Cale took the steps three at a time until he reached the first floor of the mansion.

Aminta walked around and when she saw him, she gave him a sharp nod. He returned it and continued his way up. Long strides took him down the hall to Taylor’s room.

“Taylor?” he called out as he turned the knob and pushed the door open.

She remained huddled in the corner. Head resting upon her knees as she rocked back and forth. The fear on her face hit him harder than anything he’d done tonight. She looked at him, chin trembling. When he beckoned to her, she exploded up from her position and launched into his arms.

“Is it over?” she asked, holding him tightly.

“For now.” He drew back and stared down into her face. With one hand, he hit a switch and turned on another light, offering more illumination so he could ensure she wasn’t hurt. “Are you okay?”

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking that? You’re covered in blood.”

“I’m fine, Taylor.”

She gave him a sceptical look.

“Promise.”

“The others? Are they okay as well?”

“All fine and accounted for.” He moved his hands to her face, forcing her to use her arms and legs to remain locked about him. “All fine,” he reiterated.

“Why did they attack?”

“Don’t know yet.”

“Yet?”

“We have one of them.”

“Good,” she said surprising him.

“Good?”

“They attacked a place which has children. Any of them could have been hurt. Good.”

Cale brought his head closer for a kiss. It was official—he was falling in love with this woman. And it didn’t scare him like he’d thought it would. Oh, he was scared, scared he wouldn’t be able to protect her, but not because of his feelings. When she opened beneath him and her tongue met his, all other thoughts fell away. Nothing but him and her existed now.

* * * *

Taylor stood at the kitchen stove and watched as Roz whipped up a breakfast for the children. The woman was an embodiment of calmness. Personally, her stomach was still in knots from last night.

“Are you sure I can’t help you?” she asked.

“I’ve got it.” Roz deftly cut biscuits and placed them on a waiting cookie sheet.

Feeling as if she were a bit inadequate, Taylor scanned the room and went to sit on a stool. Roz looked at her and smiled gently.

“How are you doing?”

“Okay.” Taylor shrugged when Roz raised her eyebrows. “I think,” she amended. “It’s different for sure. I mean, I’ve had my cousins after me for a while now and I guess…well, I guess it became natural and routine. Having armed men come at a big place like this is something on a completely different scale to me. What about the children? What about y’all?” Her accent thickened as her worry poured free. “Is this my fault? Because of Jeremy’s association to this damn New Order thing? I should go.”

Roz gripped her wrist. “One, this isn’t your fault. This crap with The New Order group has been going on for a long time. A
long
time. Two, there’s no way in hell the children were in danger. We were protecting them the entire time. There are safe rooms set up for them just in case whomever or whatever attacks get past us. Finally, no way Cale lets you go. You’re not leaving, Taylor.”

Her words somehow offered comfort. “I don’t want to cause problems.”

“Sweetie, our lives are problems. You’re not causing any. How much do you know of what’s going on?”

“Not too much.”

Roz snorted. “Men. Always trying to protect women. This has been going on since the creation of the world. Lian has been battling them for that long.”

It was a good thing Taylor was sitting down. “Lian? Lian is that old?” How old, she couldn’t even begin to fathom. Alive since the beginning of the planet?

“I don’t know how long the Earth was around before he showed up, but he’s old. Look, I didn’t want to believe any of this either, but since coming here, I’ve learned that there is so much more going on in the world than what we see with our limited sight. So much more.”

Taylor stared at the youngest of the six and felt even younger than her. While she knew it wasn’t the case—she had two years on Roz—Taylor felt like a teen next to her. “How do you handle it?”

“Handle what?”

“This…whatever it is that’s coming?”

Her smile was soft and accepting. “The day Lian took me aside and told me more about my mark and what my destiny was, it took me a while to believe him. I mean, really? I’m supposed to be some sort of Astral Guardian? Me? A child no one else wanted? I was sure he was wrong. Look at me.” She gestured at herself briefly. “I’m like, five-four on a good day.” Her expression became amused. “Needless to say, I thought the man had lost his marbles. Then he brought in Billy, Dracen and Tiarnán.”

“They were all here longer than you?”

“Yes. Cale and I arrived about the same time. And Aminta a year later.” She went back to cutting biscuits. “It took some decent convincing on their part. Honestly, some days I still don’t know what I’m going to contribute to the battle. But my path was chosen for me, years ago. All I can do is prepare to the best of my ability and be ready for whatever comes.”

“And last night wasn’t uncommon?”

“They’ve come before. Never when we’ve had an artefact though. And they meant business, being as armed as they were.”

Her gut churned. “And you were out there fighting?”

“Me? No. I was at the house. Aminta and I stayed behind as an extra layer of protection for you and the children.”

“I want to learn to fight.”

Roz peered up at her. “What?”

“You heard me. I want to learn how to fight. When this shit comes, you’ll need to be with the other guardians, doing whatever y’all will need to do. If I can fight, I can protect the children.”
I hope, anyway.

Roz’s smile gleamed. “You know Cale won’t be happy about that. He won’t think you need to defend yourself.”

“Tough shit.”

“I knew I liked you.” She nodded. “Okay, I’ll talk to Dracen, she’s the best to teach other than Tiarnán. And if we want to keep it from the guys”—she hummed and tapped the cutter against the counter—“best not to involve any of the guys in it.”

“Not involve any of the guys in what?” Cale asked.

Taylor looked away from Roz in time to see him stride in, wearing a tight shirt and surfer shorts without any shoes on his feet. His hair was in disarray and had her thinking about what it felt like to slip her fingers through the silken strands. Grip them in her hands as he thrust deep, hard and…
So not the time to be thinking that.
Shifting on the stool, she gave him a small smile before glancing away to keep her true feelings from being noticed.

“A girls’ night,” Roz said smoothly. “Where we talk about men, favourite sexual positions and whether we prefer shaving or waxing.”

Holy crap. Did she really just say that?
Taylor watched Cale’s reaction. Roz had said it so easily, just allowing the words to come free as if that’s exactly what they’d been discussing, not about teaching her to fight on the down-low.

“Roz!” He held his hands up to his ears. “I don’t want to think of any of my sisters doing that.” He shook his head as if he could rid himself of having heard those very words.

Roz shrugged unrepentantly. “Shouldn’t have asked, then. When you walk into a room and eavesdrop on a conversation, make sure you truly want to know, or don’t ask.”

“Could have lied and told me something else.” Cale kissed Taylor briefly. “I so didn’t need to have that mental image.”

“So leave and let us finish the discussion.”

He slung his arm around Taylor’s shoulder and whispered dramatically, “Tell her, babe, you want me to stick around and that we should change the subject.”

Taylor gave him an apologetic shrug. “Sorry, I’m really looking forward to finding out all this stuff. Shaving versus waxing and sexual positions is very important.”

Roz burst out laughing.

“You two are wrong.” Another kiss then he walked back to the door. “So wrong. I’m off to get that mental image of my sister out of my head. However,” he said, winking over his shoulder at Taylor, “you can come discuss the sex positions with me afterward.”

“You got it. I’ll do research.” Lord, she was proud she didn’t melt through the floor with embarrassment.

Roz continued laughing well after Cale had vanished. “You’re good for him. Don’t back down, and give as good as you get.”

“Thanks.”

A gentle hand squeeze. “I mean it.”

She knew she’d found a friend in Roz. “So, an attorney?”

While the remainder of breakfast was made, Roz filled her in on why she’d become an attorney. They were laughing like old friends as the foster children began streaming in for some food, followed by the older kids then the adults, who themselves were only a couple years older.