Ripper (The Morphid Chronicles Book 2) (38 page)

“With MORF?” Mateo said, his black eyes going all wide and sparkly. Why did his eyes look so familiar? Brooke scratched her head.

“What is . . . MORF?” Sam asked.

“It’s a group that was formed fifteen years ago by members of the council who were loyal to your mother. They suspected foul play from Danata when Roanna was supposedly killed in a car crash. They asked me to join back then, but . . .” He trailed off. “I had no idea they were still around.”

“Oh, they’re still around, all right,” Joao said.

“Wait a minute,” Calisto said. “Your name is Mateo, and the last name on the bell outside was . . . Fates! Are you Mateo Espina?”

“What? You know him?” Brooke looked back and forth between them. “Man, this is getting so convoluted.”

“I don’t
know
him,” Calisto said. “I’ve heard his name. You’re Ashby’s father, aren’t you?”

“Oh, brother!” Brooke exclaimed. No wonder the man looked familiar. “Maybe it’ll turn out I’m half Morphid and my super power is matching purses and shoes perfectly. Something’s gotta give.”

“I imagine my name isn’t well-spoken of in those circles.” Mateo lowered his gaze.

“Not really,” Joao piped up.

Calisto elbowed him.

“It’s all right,” Mateo said. “Not a day goes by that I don’t think of all the pain I could have prevented if . . .”

Joao shifted on the spot, clearly wishing he had kept quiet about Mateo’s not-so-hip reputation. He cleverly shifted his attention back to Sam. “Your mum and dad are dying to see you. You should come with us. MORF can keep you safe.”

“Where . . . where are they?” Sam asked.

“Our—” Joao started, but Calisto didn’t let him finish.

“One of MORF’s secret locations.” She gave her brother a nasty glance.

“Secret, huh?” Greg said. His blue eyes flashed to Sam with a warning.

“Well, it is,” Calisto said. “And I totally understand if you’re suspicious. You don’t know us, so why trust us? We’re in the same boat.” She looked around the room, pausing a bit longer on the three adults.

“So?” Brooke stretched out the word. “What do we do then?”

“Personally, I’d like to go home,” Joao said, “but it seems our
chauffeur
isn’t here.”

“You have a chauffeur?” Milk-mustache boy, Jacob, asked, looking as innocent as a bag of kittens.

“I’m pretty sure it’s not the kind of chauffeur you’re thinking of, Jacob.” Sam smiled at the kid with fondness and Brooke knew right away that the boy had Sam wrapped around his little finger.

Darn cute boys get all the perks.

“No, Jacob,” Calisto, who stood next to the boy, leaned toward him with a smile. “We’re talking about our friend, Perry. He’s a Sorcerer and can take us wherever we need to go in a matter of seconds.”

“Awesome,” Jacob said, his blue eyes full of dreamy stars. “I hope I morph into a Sorcerer. That would be sweet.”

“Sorcerers get a good rep.” Calisto twisted her mouth as if she thought little of them. “But there are other castes just as cool or cooler even.”

“They have romanticized themselves, haven’t they?” Mateo put in.

“This is all very nice, but we still don’t know what we’re going to do,” Brooke said.

“I think we should sleep on it,” Greg offered. “Think about everything.” He rubbed Sam’s upper arm and gazed at her with an ardent look in his eyes that made Brooke want to curse the world for not giving her a love like that.

There’s still time, little Brooke. Plenty of it. You’ll get your Romeo.

“Yes,” Sam said. “It’s a lot to . . . process. I need to think about everything.”

Brooke felt for Sam. The poor girl looked so confused, and what else could she expect? Her whole life had been thrown into chaos. Just a few months ago, all she’d ever wanted was to graduate high school, move out of her parents’ house and become a chef. Now, she probably counted herself lucky if she got within inches of a simple spatula and an egg.

“That sounds great!” Brooke said, making her way toward the door and gesturing at Joao and Calisto. “We all need some rest. We’ll talk tomorrow. C’mon guys, let’s get back to the hotel.” And with that, they left and caught a cab back to the Plaza.

They arrived twenty minutes later and rode the elevator, yawning like whales.

“Sleeping on it was the right idea. Remind me to thank that Greg guy,” Joao said.

They parted in the hall and headed to their respective rooms. Brooke yawned again and stuck the key card into the key slot, peeking through barely open eyes. She walked in and let the door close behind her. The lights were off, except for the faint glow coming from the crack under the bathroom door.

Didn’t I leave a lamp on?

The sound of running water came from the bathroom. Her heart skipped a beat, then her brain caught up. She smiled. Perry didn’t give up easily.

Sleep forgotten, she threw her purse on a chair and turned when the bathroom door opened.

A scream caught in her throat as the man who stepped through the threshold lifted a hand and, from ten feet away, clutched her neck with a vicious and invisible force.

The man
tsked, tsked
. “We wouldn’t want to wake up the guests, Ms. Perez. Not in a hotel like this. They would never let you visit again.”

Chapter 51 - Sam

The next morning, Sam splashed cold water on her puffy eyes. She’d only cried when talking to Brooke, but that would be enough to make her look like an insomniac drug addict for the rest of the day. When she went back into the bedroom, Greg was still sitting on the recliner where he’d slept, elbows on knees, face buried between his large hands.

“What is it, Greg?”

She’d thought he was tired or pensive about last night, but something else was going on.

He straightened. His black hair was standing up. His angular face touched by a hard-to-define emotion. In one lithe motion, he left his seat and stood in front of her.

“I don’t want you to think I’m . . . saying this because I’m worried about Ashby being back and . . .” He trailed off.

“And what?”

“And whether us being together is right or wrong.”

“Wrong? You think it’s wrong that I choose you?”

Greg opened his mouth and babbled something. No real words came out, though.

“You didn’t just hesitate, you didn’t!” Anger spread from the center of Sam’s chest and moved outward.

He looked her straight on, the clear blue of his eyes startling against the pinprick of his depthless pupils. “I would be with you even if the entire world was against it. All I need is a word from you and
that
, I have. I know you chose me, and I don’t take that lightly. But I also know how hard this must be for you. To go against your instincts even if they’re not as strong as before, to feel responsible for Ashby’s suffering when you have the power to offer redemption. I know it isn’t easy, and I know it isn’t wrong, in spite of everything.”

“Then what’s the matter?”

Greg put a hand on his chest. “It’s not a full warning, but I feel something isn’t right, like the day we were attacked at the soup kitchen. I don’t know for sure, but there might a threat, danger of some kind, and I think we should leave. Now.”

“Leave?”

In spite of everything, the thought of leaving hadn’t even crossed Sam’s mind and now, at Greg’s suggestion, the idea felt repulsive to her. It became clear why he’d started by saying he didn’t want her to think this had anything to do with what happened with Ashby. Because this warning seemed too convenient, like he’d made it up.

She turned her back on him, considering. He wouldn’t lie to her. He
had
felt something, and why not? If Ashby had found her, wasn’t it just a matter a of time before Veridan and Danata did, too? Something occurred to her then. Something that broke her heart, even if it had no right getting broken.

“Do you think Ashby told his mother where to find me?” she asked.

“No. He wouldn’t do that.”

His answer surprised her. She smiled. Of course he wouldn’t lie. He never had.

“Then where is this threat coming from? How did they find us?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe one of the others. Joao? Calisto? We know nothing about them.”

Sam faced him again and said the next words with conviction so there would be no doubt. “I won’t leave. I won’t run away again. This is where I need to be.”

Ignoring her instincts about Ashby but heeding the ones about New York was the epitome of hypocrisy, inconsistency, madness, something. But there it was. She was meant to be here. She had a purpose, a very good one. Most people did things without one of those. Now, for a change, she might as well be different than the rest.

Greg must have seen something in her eyes, because he didn’t argue. Instead, he simply said, “I understand.”

“Good. Let’s go then. I want to help Nadine and Dan with breakfast. Then after that, I’ll help whoever my instincts guide me to.”

“But I thought you would wait until we figure out—”

“I’ll be fine, as long as I don’t heal more than one person the same day. I’m pretty sure that’s why I got so weak.”

Greg frowned, clearly unhappy with this explanation. She waited once more for him to argue but, for a second time, he simply agreed. She loved him all the more for it. Everyone deserved the right to make their own decisions without a boyfriend or girlfriend trying to be the boss.

As they headed for the door, Sam stopped him and placed a hand on his cheek. “Thank you.” She kissed him gently on the lips and inhaled his masculine scent. “I know this isn’t easy for you either.”

He smiled, his handsome face changing, lighting up his eyes to the most beautiful blue imaginable. “If I can get paid in kisses, I’ll be all right.”

“No problem,” she said and kissed him again.

They made it to the shelter just in time to help Nadine stir a huge pan of powdered eggs and laid deli slices of ham on top of cheap white toast. Elizabeth and Bruce tagged along, eager to help while Mateo stayed back with Jacob while the child caught up on much-needed sleep. Though he promised they’d be there in time to share breakfast with everyone.

The feeling of easy camaraderie that usually developed among people while working toward helping others came out. Bruce and Dan joked around and told stories about their childhood. Nadine showed Elizabeth how the French press worked and set her to making “nice” cups of coffee for everyone.

Sam fell into a comfortable rhythm stirring the eggs when needed and helping Greg with the muffins. The moment was almost perfect, ruined only by Greg’s occasional looks toward the door and the constant frown across his brow. Sam figured his uneasy feeling hadn’t passed, but he would be sure to let her know if it escalated to a full warning. So she tried to enjoy the company and the work.

She needed little to be happy, and right now, she was.

Chapter 52 - Greg

Greg was too uneasy to stand behind the food line and serve the guests. Instead, he stood off to the side and watched the crowd like a hawk on the alert. Any of these people could be a thug, someone Veridan had sent to hurt Sam. He’d done something similar before to get around Greg’s early warning system, and he could do it again.

The bothersome itch in the back of his mind was low, but steady. It had not relented since it began earlier that morning. He hated its shapelessness and vague quality. It was nothing like the sharp clear warnings he was used to receiving.

Sam was serving eggs, smiling at everyone, looking happier than she had in a long while. It felt strange that she should feel that way while he was so on edge and wishing they could go as far away from New York as possible.

He was still lost in the happy features of Sam’s face when a wave of tension rode up his back. The hairs on the nape of his neck prickled with a new itch. It wasn’t a clear warning, not yet, but it was definitely stronger than before.

Examining each face, his eyes swept the food line, then moved to the guests already sitting at the different tables. No one in particular caught his attention. Just as he started feeling like an irrational fool, a few newcomers stepped through the entrance.

The warning heightened, if only a bit. He scanned their faces in one swoop, and almost laughed at his stupid, paranoid behavior. Mateo, Jacob and Brooke waved at him. Greg nodded back.

“Where’s my daddy?” Jacob asked, then happily bounded into the kitchen, past the double doors.

Greg had almost convinced himself something was wrong with his danger-meter when a man wearing a red flannel shirt came up right behind Brooke, and drew Greg’s gaze in a snap.

The man looked so suspicious that Greg had to check himself not to jump him and choke the life out of him right away.

Fingers twitching, Greg watched. The man had his hands in his pockets and walked in short steps, head lowered, eyes moving from side to side in a shady, suspicious manner.

He shuffled behind Brooke as she happily chatted with Mateo on their way to the food line. The man paused between two busy tables. He looked at everyone sitting there, examining their faces as if searching for someone in particular.