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Sunroper (Goddesses Rising) Page 3
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Maybe she was worth following…
But Josh was Numina, and Gage had known him for years. Sure, he and his friends were younger than Aiden, but they were close enough to be worth questioning. Josh was even on the interrogation list his father had provided for Gage, after sending Aiden undercover to learn about the Deimons had backfired so badly.
Aiden hadn’t just failed to give their father information for his talks with the Society for Goddess Education and Defense—he’d practically disappeared. He’d called twice: once to say he wasn’t following through on the assignment, and once to tell their father he was okay but wouldn’t be in touch for a while. He hadn’t responded to any of Gage’s text messages, e-mails, or phone calls, and Gage had been unable to track the GPS on his phone. His brother’s silence told him that something was very wrong. They hadn’t been out of contact for this long in their entire lives.
Gage blew out a breath, looking from the group around Josh to the entrance and back. He probably should stay here and ask Josh and his friends about Aiden and the flux. But he’d already been stymied by others just like them. No one would talk about it, and if they knew anything about Aiden, they were obeying some bro code of silence. Gage’s expectations of getting anywhere with these tactics was low as it was, and with Josh’s current state, Gage might not get the most productive answers.
Decision made, it didn’t take him long to catch up with the redhead, hindered as she was by her tight dress and tall heels.
She sent a text or e-mail on her way outside and then stopped at the curb, looking back and forth as if waiting for someone. Gage handed his ticket to the valet and hovered behind a group congregating near the podium while he quickly called his father with an update.
He picked up immediately. “Son. You learn anything?”
“I don’t know. No sign of Aiden, but something happened…” He described the incident with Josh.
“The woman had white eyes, you said?” His father sounded as excited as he ever outwardly showed. “She could be the goddess providing the drug. I’ve heard murmurs about a woman with white eyes.”
“What kind of murmurs?”
“I’m not sure. Nothing concrete, and I can’t remember any specifics. It might not be something I heard directly, just background conversation. But it’s too coincidental—she must be involved.”
A small black SUV pulled to the curb, and the woman opened the door. Gage watched her hemline rise high on her thighs when she climbed up and swiveled her legs inside. “That’s what I was thinking, too. I need to find out more.”
“What about talking to Josh directly? He’s on the list. He might have some information on her.”
“I wouldn’t count on it. You know they’ve all been closemouthed about everything.”
“I don’t know where everyone learned to be so secretive,” his father growled.
Gage watched the SUV angle to pull out into traffic, but it had to wait for a stream of cars. Come on, come on, he urged silently as the valet approached way too slowly with Gage’s car, parking behind the SUV.
“You’re kidding, right?” Gage asked his father. He passed a tip to the valet and, using the loitering club-hoppers as cover, circled behind his car to get in. Since it was already running, the Bluetooth paired the phone and transferred the call to the speaker.
“Of course I’m kidding.” His father sighed. “Well, keep me posted. We don’t have any meetings tomorrow. Quinn Caldwell and her team have a wedding or something, so I’ll be in the office.”
Of course he would. It was Saturday. Forget the idea that he could take a day off when the leader of the goddesses did. All the more reason for him not to, in fact. Harmon Samargo, CEO of one of the largest shipping and transportation conglomerates in the world, was focusing all his time on the summit negotiations with the Society these days. Protecting Numina was his top priority next to his sons, and a handful of bad seeds had damaged his ability to do so. Gage guessed it was no surprise that his father wasn’t taking a break.
He grinned and gunned the engine of his crimson Viper, passing a slow-moving minivan but keeping a couple of cars between him and the SUV. His sports car was too unique for stealth activities, but hopefully the woman had no reason to think he’d follow her.
“Be careful, son. And don’t be misguided by my interest in the goddess. Your priority is your brother.”
“Got it, Dad.”
The car beeped as his father disconnected their call, and Gage concentrated on the SUV. A few minutes later, it pulled into a hotel parking garage. He watched the gate swing down behind it with Guests Only written across the striped bar.
Okay, so he’d become a guest.
He drove around the block to the front of the hotel and waved off the valet when he got out. He’d need immediate access to his car later.
Inside, Gage approached the clerk smiling at him from the check-in desk.
She poised her hands over her keyboard “How can I help you, sir?”
“Hi…Allie.” He read her name off her tag. “I need a room, please.”
“One night?” Her fingernails click-clacked on the keys.
“Indefinite.”
She frowned at her screen. “I can give you until next weekend. Then I’m afraid we’re fully booked.” She flashed her perfect teeth. “Family weekend for a few of the area colleges. But I can certainly let you know if something opens up before then.”
“That’s fine. It probably won’t be that long.” He handed over his Black Card. “Listen, a friend of mine is staying here right now, too. She didn’t give me her room number, but I’d like to be on her floor. Can you arrange that?”
Her sunny expression dimmed a bit. “I can try. What’s her name?”
He smiled, rueful. “It’s under her boyfriend’s name, and I don’t know him. I’m supposed to meet him for the first time this week. She’s a redhead, and she’s got unusually light eyes.”
The woman perked up. “Oh, I remember them! And his name was unusual, too. Like a hurricane. No, tornado. Let me find you an appropriate room.” She winked and went to town on the keyboard, gave Gage a paper to sign, and ran his card. Less than a minute later she handed him his keycards, leaning toward him with a knowing look and lowering her voice. “They actually have adjoining rooms on the twelfth floor, not a shared room. You might still have a chance.” She winked and turned to someone behind Gage.
Bemused at her assumption that his “friend” was more than that, he crossed the gleaming lobby to the gold-colored elevator and hit the up button.
The elevator took him straight to twelve and let him out into a hallway that smelled faintly of gardenias. He frowned at the arrangement on the table in front of the elevator bank. The flower had been his mother’s favorite, and there had been a ton of them at her funeral. He’d only been nine at the time, but it was the kind of thing that stuck with a guy. He hoped there weren’t any in the hotel room.
The hallway was empty as he made his way to his room, his footfalls silent on the thickly padded carpeting. The floral scent faded with distance, and he breathed easier. His room was just past the corner where two halls met. As he unlocked his door, the one next to his opened. The redhead stepped out, luckily with her back to him, carrying an ice bucket. Gage darted into his room and eased the door closed. Allie had earned herself high marks for putting him right next to his “friend.”
Gage stood just inside his door until the woman returned. This was a quality hotel, but he could still hear the clatter of ice in the plastic bucket when she set it on the table next to their shared wall, followed by the click of a light switch. Satisfied that he’d know when she left—and pretty sure that it wouldn’t be immediate—he left to park his car in the garage and retrieve his duffel.
…
Saturday afternoon found Marley lurking in the shadows of the unoccupied side balcony of a centuries-old church, unseen by the people waiting below. She stifled a yawn, resenting the wasted hours she’d spent digging
for information that was nowhere to be found. Her only option had been to show up for a wedding she’d had no intention of attending.
The whispered conversations hissed off the stone walls, echoed by the polished wooden pews and getting caught in the high, raftered ceiling. She’d been here since long before anyone else had arrived, even before the florist and the rep from the historical society that represented the church. Luckily, no one had ventured upstairs.
Anson was stationed in the cemetery outside with a wide view of the area so he could warn Marley when Gashface approached. Since they’d been unable to find any information to confirm or disprove what she’d overheard in the club, she had no choice but to operate on the assumption that it was accurate. She’d warned Anson to stay out of sight. His presence would be as disruptive to the wedding as Gashface’s. Quinn and Nick, and Sam and Riley would never understand why Marley was working with Anson Tournado, of all people. It sounded ridiculous even to her, despite how well it had worked so far.
She hadn’t known when she’d run away what she was going to do with her newly discovered ability to nullify power. She just knew everything had to change. She went home to Maine and sold her inn—the amount of land, worth even more than the building, had sold for enough money to cover her expenses for years. Then she’d spent some time meditating, trying to understand herself better, to be more in touch with her body. She’d trained physically, growing stronger and learning to fight. Goddess-Marley had lived a passive, quiet life and barely knew how to throw a punch. No matter how successful Quinn was with the Numina summit, Marley knew the battle wasn’t over. She knew that she had to do whatever she could to protect the goddesses and the Society, even if she didn’t truly belong there anymore.
But she hadn’t known how she was going to help, how to turn her new ability into something beneficial. Or even if she could do it again. That was why she went after Anson in the first place.
She had to test the nullification, and he was the one man she knew she could test it on. Though Quinn had rendered Anson unable to leech anyone again, there had been a residue that she hadn’t been able to remove, leaving him with a tiny bit of toxic energy that had obviously made him sick like it had Quinn. If Marley could nullify power, she’d be able to get to it.
Anson had grown up in LA, so after property-record searches, Marley prowled around his neighborhood until she found him outside a seedy bar, practically in the gutter. She’d touched him and cured him. The toxic energy disappeared.
She’d intended to leave him there once her test was done, but he’d followed her and made a pest of himself until she agreed to let him help her. At first, they’d done mundane digging into all things Numina, learning everything they could about the leadership and anyone else who might be relevant. Anson was as skilled as Sam at research and possibly better at hacking. Besides, it was better than being completely alone. Anson did everything she asked and never made a suspicious move. Maybe he wanted redemption as much as she did.
She and Quinn had exchanged information, with Marley dodging all personal discussion and pretending that little bit was involvement enough. Then she’d stumbled across mention of the Deimons in a disturbing Facebook post. They’d dug deeper, and she’d found her purpose. She couldn’t tell Quinn about that part though—it’d only make things worse. Marley had to handle it on her own.
The church’s side door opened, and a man in a suit carrying a Bible entered, followed by Quinn and Nick. The suited man, probably a justice of the peace, took position in front of the altar. Quinn and Nick stood on either side of him. Marley’s eyes prickled when they smiled at each other, love apparent in both their gazes, even from this distance. They’d been married a couple of months ago in a quiet civil ceremony in Ohio. Quinn had asked Marley to attend but hadn’t seemed surprised when she said she couldn’t.
Her throat tightened with regret, but she swallowed hard. It was too late now, and she doubted she’d have done anything differently anyway. It didn’t matter how sincere Quinn was about wanting her there. Marley doubted Nick felt the same, and she would have felt like a fraud the entire time.
Nick’s driving motivation was Quinn’s well-being. He’d never said anything directly to Marley, but she could tell he held little regard for her. She’d put the woman he loved in danger. He was a legacy protector, with protector parents, assigned essentially as bodyguards for goddesses who didn’t have access to their power source and were in danger. He’d recently taken over as leader of the Protectorate, an organization as old as the Society. It wasn’t surprising he didn’t like Marley after her role in the leechings.
Sam Remington, Riley’s groom, had also trained as a protector after he quit his job as Quinn’s assistant. He was more compassionate than Nick, more tolerant, and if he suspected Marley had anything to do with taking away his pain, he probably looked at her more favorably than Nick did. His tolerance dried up abruptly, however, the second there was a hint of danger targeting Riley.
Anson had plenty of experience in just how capable those two were—and he’d experience it again should they ever find out Marley was working with him. He’d spent the morning whining that Marley should just tell them what she’d heard. There was no way Sam would let Gashface within ten yards of Riley, but Marley knew he would sacrifice himself in the process, if necessary, and that would kind of put a damper on the wedding day.
No, she had to do this for her friends. It was the least she could do for all the hell they’d been through because of her. And if she owed them, for damned sure Anson did, too.
She checked her watch, then peered out one of the narrow windows. With ten minutes until the ceremony’s official start time, guests still straggled up the walk. Marley recognized a few goddesses. Neither Sam nor Riley had close family anymore, but Marley assumed some of the other guests were distant relatives and maybe friends from before everything turned upside down.
As long as she and Anson both stayed out of sight, Marley would never have any questions to answer.
A violinist situated down below played a short introduction. The guests settled with a rustle, and the woman launched into the wedding march. Marley moved silently to the end of the balcony to watch the main entry. The double doors drifted open, and Riley and Sam stepped through, arm in arm. Unusual though it was for the bride and groom to enter together, Marley thought it was beautiful, demonstrating their equal relationship, their support of each other as their sole family. Riley looked radiant in her simple white gown, Sam tall and strong and happy.
Goddamn Gashface and Delwhip for being arrogant, destructive assholes, but Marley was glad they’d given her reason to witness this. She pressed her lips together and clamped down on the well of sentiment threatening to break her down. She would not give away her presence by sniffling.
She watched the justice of the peace greet everyone and run them through the traditional service, mixing Corinthians and other stuff she recognized, until Sam cradled Riley’s face and bent to kiss her.
Marley stood in her dark corner, aching at the distance between herself and the happy, smiling group below. Nothing had happened. No attack. No sign of Gashface at all. She’d put herself through this for nothing.
Can the self-pity. This was your choice. But it was one thing to know in her head how she would feel being near them again and quite another to actually live it.
Her phone buzzed. Anson’s signal that Gashface was approaching, since he was too far away for their comms. She slipped over to the window. Gashface strode up the hill toward the church, opposite the parking area and the main door. He’d gotten a bit heavier since last spring and had overcompensated by graduating to larger clothing. His khakis and polo were baggy on him, but the layer of padding could be hiding enough muscle to give her a challenge. That, and the weapons he no doubt carried.
He headed for the side door she’d entered through earlier. Whether he would come up to the balcony or stay on the main floor depended on the depth of his intent. Which was s
tronger—his need for revenge, which meant he’d go directly for Riley, or the power of the guy who’d hired him? Delwhip would have stressed keeping his distance so as not to be identified.
Marley was betting on revenge, though. The scar Riley had given him blazed an angry red—three parallel tears across his left cheek. He unsheathed a wicked-looking knife as he walked. Yep—he wanted revenge.
Marley quietly ran down the stairs to the tiny foyer at the bottom and pressed her back against the wall. A flare of flux approached the door, revealing his proximity. Seconds later, the door latch clinked and the door swung open. She took two seconds to assess his position and calculate her moves, and within two more she’d kicked the knife from his hand and spun to elbow him in the nose. The blow knocked him back, out of the church, so his cry of pain hit open air instead of echoing indoors and calling attention to them. Marley kept moving forward, using her hardest parts against his most vulnerable: fist to groin, elbow to solar plexus, head to the already-bruised nose, foot to knee. His legs buckled, and he went down. Marley lifted her booted foot and brought the heel down at the base of his neck, flattening him.
“You stupid bitch.” Gash growled out a few filthy curses as he writhed and twisted to get free. Marley bent to touch him, to nullify him, but this time he was ready and she was too slow. He used the flux, an invisible push knocking her off him. She stumbled a couple of steps before halting in a crouch.
He didn’t waste time trying to get up. Lifting his head and shoulders off the ground, he raised his hands, palms out, fingers spread. His dark eyes blazed with fury, and his upper lip peeled back to bare his teeth, spittle strung between them. A hissing growl came out of his throat.
She threw herself into a side roll so his attempt to grab and throw her through the air failed. Her move brought her closer to him, but the knife was lying in the grass on his other side. He lunged for it, landing on his stomach a few inches from the weapon. Marley dashed at him, but he scrambled to his hands and knees and grabbed the knife just as she reached him. He roared and slashed at her, barely missing when she curved her body away. His momentum threw off his balance again. She kicked, and the knife arced through the air. A punch to his temple simultaneously knocked him out and nullified him. As the blue shine of the flux disappeared, there was an accompanying deep throb, just like the night before. And then nothing.