Craving (49 page)

The car was speeding toward the freeway. It would be a few hours before I could do anything for my impatient friend. There was no point in worrying.

“As gifted as I am, an earthquake is not something I can pull off,” I grumbled. “He’s not free because of me.”

“Then perhaps it was unbelievable luck,” he breathed in my ear.

“Yeah.” I reached out and tapped the touch screen on the center console. It had a GPS function. I entered the approximate address of Jinx’s villa and closed my eyes.

Behind me, I heard the sound of cloth being torn. “Do you believe in unbelievable luck?” Ananda persisted.

“No, unfortunately, but can we not talk about it now?”

He chuckled. Before long, a length of golden fabric was passed between the seats to me. It was a piece of Ananda’s beautiful robe. I took it with a grateful blink and wrapped it around my neck and torso, tying it with a knot like a halter top.

My modesty preserved, I returned to meditation. The
jhana
dilated time, which to me sounded like the best medicine. I looked for Arthur, but again, could not find him. He was not at the coffee shop, or either Sam or Matthew’s homes. I jumped to Jinx, but the mathematician was, as yet, unharmed, slurping down a caffeinated Icee as if it was manna from heaven, his attention wholly on his work. Matthew and Sam were upstairs in the records room, running the paperwork through a scanner as if they expected the worst.

Jinx’s voice came over the home’s internal speaker system. “I’m blind, guys. The whole fucking Vihara just blinked off the grid.”

With a frown, Matthew walked over to the speaker and pushed the button. “Good . . .”

“Wasn’t me. Dunno what happened. I was tearin’ shit up and all of a sudden it went offline.”

“Did you—?”

“No.” The boy sounded harassed. “Could’a been the quake, but when I started jerkin’ ‘em around, they stopped uploading their activities into the mainframe. It’s like they knew it had been infiltrated and didn’t want us to figure out what they’d done with her. They’re fucking obnoxiously prepared.”

The two men exchanged dark looks.

“Anything from Art?”

Sam shook his head dismally.

Matthew pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it as if annoyed with the whole world in general. “Does he do this a lot? Disappear when you need him the most?”

“No,” Sam rasped. “If he’s flying under radar, it’s because he has to.”

“That’s very comforting. I’m sure we don’t need to know what threatens an immortal. I mean, we’re only his fucking coconspirators.
Human
coconspirators, I might add.”

The city lay before us, sprawling across the gentle curve of the hills like tiny gems stitched to the black gown of night.

“The old monk is dead.” I lowered my visor and found Ananda’s face with the mirror. “It’s my fault. I shocked his system when I used him to communicate with Sam.”

“He was happy to be of use to you.”

“Doesn’t make me feel any better about it.”

He tilted his lovely head to one side as his eager gaze took in the intricacies of the encroaching metropolis. “That is the price of leadership, I have learned.”

The rest of the ride was silent except for the false voice of the GPS directing us to the fray. Ananda stroked and smoothed my hair, pulling it back and with my scrunchie, plaiting and twisting it into a sleek topknot. When we entered Jinx’s golf course community, William cut the headlights and coasted to the nearest corner. We sat in the car as the engine rumbled into silence.

“What’s the plan?”

“Stay in the car,” I replied, opening my door.

William’s hand shot out and captured my wrist. His face had gone pale, anxiousness building in his eyes with each second. “What kind of plan is that? I’m supposed to protect you.”

I covered his hand with my own and tried to give him a heartening smile. “I’m stronger than you. If you come, I might end up having to protect
you
.”

His brows tugged together sharply. “What should I do?”

I took my hand back carefully. “You’re backup. Stay here and watch.”

To my surprise, Ananda opened his door and got out. Even though he was as brightly colored as a traffic light, on the asphalt, his leather sandals were silent.

“Are you up for this?” I asked doubtfully. “Aren’t you a pacifist?”

He smiled and patted my head. “There are other ways to win a battle.”

Reminded of Arthur’s question about the ability of a warrior to prepare for peace, I stood up and got my bearings. With one last glance at William, I pointed to the corner. “His house is around there. The one with all the motorcycles.”

Within five strides, there was the sharp report of gunfire. We turned the corner to find that the entire street had been blocked off with black vans. The SWAT team had already assembled at the gate and was in the process of dismantling it. The security camera hung by its cord in pieces, a jagged hole in its lens.

I stepped back into the shadow of an ivy vine that climbed the stony wall, but Ananda stood, as bold as day, watching their activities with curiosity.

“The overseer is here,” he said.

I glanced around the corner. Karl was jumping from the back of a van in a flurry of rage. As he ran to the gate, the men destroyed the electronic keypad and pried the door open at the hinges. Within seconds, they were swarming like carpenter ants, headed straight for the building’s foundations.

“They’re setting up explosive charges,” I whispered. “They’re going to burn down the house.”

“Old habits,” he replied, unworried. He smiled at me and with another pat to my head, wandered toward the gate as if he merely had an interest in the horticulture. Baffled, I followed behind him.

The SWAT teams had closed in on the house leaving only one posted guard at the gate, but as Ananda waltzed past him, it was not the man in the orange robe that caught the guard’s attention, it was the woman walking behind him.

Ananda was invisible.

“Freeze!” He pointed the gun at me.

But as his hand went to his radio to alert them I had arrived, Ananda leaned toward him and whispered in his ear. Without warning, the man took a seat on the ground and closed his eyes. His weapon lay beside him with the safety on.

As we continued past him toward the circular drive, I glanced back in awe. “How did you do that? No,
what
did you just do?”

Ananda stopped and turned to me. “Your focus is too narrow. You desire to save your friends, and because his aim is to destroy them, your energy disrupts his.”

“You mean, if I
want
something, then they can see me?” I thought back to my practice session on Karl, and the indifferent separation it took to use Moksha’s gift—using a lack of judgment to bring weakness into high relief. What if this was something like that? “So how can I possibly get past them if we don’t agree on anything?”

He tilted his head. “You cannot choose which life is valuable. Either all life is sacred, or none of it is.”

I dropped my eyes to the ground and understood. If I walked into this situation discriminating against them, their heckles would go up and I would be in much more danger than necessary. Really, the more I thought about it, the less I saw the value in discriminating anyway. I wanted to save everyone.

“The night is very beautiful,” Ananda breathed, his eyes cast upward. Overhead, the sky was darkening with thick, rolling clouds, threatening the world below.

“Yes.” I watched the shadows twist over each other, hearing them clash and growl. “It is.”

Things seemed brighter then, and for the first time since the rock garden, the little life forces around me began to buzz and hum within my soul, vibrating in my chest like sound from a subwoofer. The air glowed, each tiny insect and animal shining like twinkle lights in mist, little halos circling them as they wandered through the foliage.

“Can you see them?”

“Yes,” I whispered. “They’re so beautiful!”

“Each in its own way.”

I stood there for a long time, looking around me with my eyes unfocused, delighting in the glitter and sparkle. When I found the house with my gaze, the distant forms of crouching men shimmered in a rainbow of colors, beckoning me. I turned to ask Ananda if he could see them too, but he was gone.

I wasn’t bothered by this. I ambled toward the house, wondering if I would cross paths with him, but perfectly fine with my fate if, in fact, we never met again. I found a red aura standing in the side yard and out of sheer curiosity, moved toward it. When I was close enough to reach out and pass my hand through the auroral shards of light, I realized it was a person and that that person was afraid.

On impulse, I leaned forward and found its ear. “Be at ease,” I whispered. Before I could lean away, the tension drained from his form. The colors shifted and changed, turning from red, to orange, to gold, and the man sank to the ground with a deep sigh.

I made a slow and meandering path toward the back door of the family room. It did not disturb me that the glass was broken; the blinking light of the explosive charge on the load-bearing wall did not seem out of place. I met another man on the stairs; he was angry, arguing with his shoulder radio.

“We don’t have schematics, sir.”

“Then smoke him out!” the radio grated, but I was too content to worry.

I put my hand on the man’s arm, disrupting the rays of light only slightly. “Anger is a symptom. To be rid of it, you must remove the cause.”

He undid his helmet with an uncoordinated hand and dropped it to the floor. His expression almost sickened, he looked back to the patio door and suddenly became interested in the fresh air. Like a marionette, he walked toward the door in a disjointed fashion, and went back outside.

I continued to the landing and then up to the records room. I don’t know how I knew where I was going, or what was motivating me, but it seemed as good a path as any I could hope to walk. I met two more mercenaries on my way and in absolute compassion gave them helpful advice that somehow convinced them they would be better off outside on the grass, looking at the sky or watching the fireflies dance.

With the floor completely vacant, I found my way to the disarray of Jinx’s file room. I looked around in mild interest, but it was the golden Buddha that caught my attention. I stared at it and could feel such a familiarity, that if someone had called us relatives, I might have agreed. I reached out and touched the Bindhi on his forehead, not at all surprised to hear a click and the harsh clang of metal locks opening.

I turned to find that a portion of the wall had slid aside and that my beloved friends were suddenly standing beside me.

Happy in a way I cannot ever remember being, I reached out and hugged the tiny blue-haired genius. “Ah, here you are! I’m glad to see you. You should see the sky, it’s so lovely.”

His mouth fell open. “Lily, are you okay? Whose blood is this?” He pulled his hands away from the waistband of my jeans, where the blood from the pump had spattered.

I kissed the corner of his mouth. “Don’t worry, silly, I’m not hurt.”

“Where did they go? It’s like they just left!”

“It’s going to rain soon,” I replied lightly. “We should all go play in the puddles.”

Matthew reached out and pulled my lower lid down, unceremoniously examining my eyes like any police officer would. “She could be drugged, but her pupils aren’t dilated.”

I laughed.

“Lily, what’s wrong with you? You’re acting like a crackhead!”

My hands were on his shoulders and his glow was surrounding me. I felt an imperative, as if there was a sore spot in him that I should soothe. I pulled him to me and snuggled him, heedless of blood, or dirt, or anything else. The sweet scent of his hair gel was more beautiful than any flower.

“Did you know, Jinx, that all that may ever happen in the universe is happening right now? If you’re still enough, you can see it all. You don’t need to search. It will come to you.”

He pushed me away carefully and looked up into my face. “Lily, come on, we can’t stand around talking metaphysics. We’ve gotta . . .”

“She’s high or something,” Sam wondered in his strangled purr.

In my arms, the boy stiffened.

“No, she’s just . . . maybe she’s having some kind of PTSD episode?” Matthew diagnosed.

Jinx wriggled away from me, his hands out in front of him, swiping through the fog of colors as they shifted violently.

“Jinx?” Sam reached for the boy, but he tumbled backward into the wall over a stack of files and stood there breathing heavily, his hands pressed to his ears.

“What did she do to him?”

“I can’t . . .” the immortal stammered. “I can’t hear you!”

Sam and Matthew exchanged looks. “You mean you’re deaf?” Matthew whispered, to test the theory.

“No . . . I can’t . . . There’s no echo.” His hands fell, the fingers peeking from his gloves twitching. His face had turned an ashen grey, but was very quickly returning to its normal cherubian glow. “What did you do to me?”

I could feel the giddiness bubbling up from deep inside me. It erupted in a giggle that continued for some time, until finally, Sam reached out and took my hand.

“Lilith, we should go outside and play in the puddles.”

“Yes, we should.” I turned away and wandered out of the room, the three of them in tow. “May I go first?”

“Of course,” he rasped in my ear. “You lead the way.”

I led them back through the house, down the stairs to the theater room, and toward the shattered outline of the patio door, but the way was blocked by a sudden darkness that seemed to suck the light away. It was Karl and in his hand was a nine millimeter.

Chapter 29

I wasn’t afraid until he took aim at Sam and pulled the trigger.

I saw the explosion in slow motion, the shower of sparks and the backlash of gunpowder seeming like a plume. As if a cloud had passed over my eyes, the colors dimmed and my focus was thrown back to darker parts of reality. Sam lay crumpled on the ground, moaning in agony.

I had not seen it coming.