Sunroper (Goddesses Rising) Read online

  “You guys have been a huge help,” she told them, shrugging on her jacket. “Knowing her name should make a big difference in tracking her. I’ll let you know when we’ve taken care of her.”

  Not that she had any clue how they were going to do that.

  Chapter Four

  Any goddess who becomes aware of rogue activity beyond the guidelines of the Society and the Protectorate should contact the office immediately.

  —Goddess Society for Education and Defense internal memo

  “S

  o what’s the plan?” Anson started the vehicle and backed out. “I didn’t see any good place to hide the truck.”

  “I used Google satellite to see if there were any other ways in besides the main road and didn’t see anything,” Marley agreed. “You can just drop me and cruise around until I signal you.”

  He frowned at her. “Not a good idea.”

  “I don’t think anything’s going to happen tonight. I just want to scout the place, see what the layout is, if there’s any evidence that she uses it.”

  “What makes you think nothing’s going down tonight?”

  “Ah…because the sun is her power source? And there’s no sun at night?”

  He didn’t respond. Marley was being disingenuous, but she didn’t know if he knew it. They’d guessed that the sun was her power source and that she needed a direct line to the sun to be able to use it to channel energy. But what Lahr was doing had never been done before, so they couldn’t assume anything about her was typical. She might be able to store the energy for longer periods and could, therefore, transfer it at night.

  The roads were quieter now, some houses already dark. Anson paused half a mile from the farm, and Marley jumped out to slip into the woods on the other side of the street. The SUV’s engine gunned, and darkness returned as the vehicle disappeared down the road.

  Leaves crackled in the thick underbrush with every step she took, but she didn’t try too hard to be quiet until she could see the farmyard through the trees. Then she moved more slowly and carefully, easing up to the edge of the property.

  It was as still as it had been earlier. Nothing moved. No vehicles crouched in the weed-filled gravel lot or near the long building or the silos. She made her way along the curving tree line toward the barn, eyes peeled for movement or shadows. She was too far away to sense anyone’s presence inside the building.

  She eased up to the end of the building. Weathered, rotting wood alternated with gaps where it had completely broken away, but paint clung in enough spots to show it used to be white. There wasn’t any kind of door along this wall, so she found a big enough gap and ducked inside.

  The space felt open and empty, but it was close to pitch black. She twisted on the LED beam of her flashlight and aimed it at the floor, slowly raising it in front of her—and was glad she hadn’t kept moving in the dark. She’d have walked right into the solid wood-frame wall two feet in front of her. A sweep of the flashlight showed the wall extending all the way down the building and about fifteen feet up. She couldn’t tell if there was a ceiling or if it was open to the rafters above. Two-by-fours were backed by plywood rather than drywall, a crude but effective structure. It would block light and at least some sound, preserving the abandoned atmosphere of the place while allowing them some freedom and maybe even comfort.

  Marley didn’t see a door here, either, so she walked around the interior wall to the other side of the building. Her flashlight revealed animal droppings, a few glowing pairs of eyes that blinked out just before she heard scurrying feet, and the same unending wall. She clicked off the flashlight and stood listening, letting her eyes adjust again. There were no voices or sounds of movement. She peered carefully around the corner. Nothing.

  When she turned the flashlight back on it illuminated a simple, hollow-core door about twenty feet away, a gold-colored doorknob gleaming in the beam of light. The barn’s outer wall, perhaps more sheltered from the elements on this side, looked more intact. The ground had less debris and a clear path worn into the dirt from steady foot traffic. Marley shone the flashlight along the slight indent from the door all the way to the far end of the building and a chained entrance. What was the point in a chain with all the holes in the walls?

  Everything was still except for the occasional rustle of leaves in the light evening breeze. A few long strides took her to the door, but she didn’t touch the handle. She slid on a pair of leather gloves from her jacket pocket and twisted the knob.

  Anticipation welled as she nudged the door open and peered into more darkness. She closed it behind her and felt for a light switch. The bare plywood snagged her gloved fingertips before they landed on a two-inch-wide rocker switch. She clicked and light filtered into the room, dim and orange but growing brighter. The compact fluorescent bulbs were attached to the corners where the walls met. There was no ceiling—Marley could see stars through holes in the barn roof. The ugly, chipped-wood walls were bare and flat, the dirt floor swept clear, the only furniture a crude, throne-like wooden chair with a tall back and wide arms. Red velvet had been tossed across it, discarded.

  Marley couldn’t imagine what they did here. Assuming this was, in fact, where the transfers took place. Hardly a typical setting for a drug deal.

  She stepped out into the middle of the room, studying the ground. There were a multitude of small, round depressions in the dirt. When she moved back for a wider view, she saw an uneven half circle made up of rows of these dots, then another behind the first.

  Aha! Folding chairs. Those were from the feet of folding chairs. They’d been arranged facing the throne. Now she could picture the scene. Cressida Lahr holding court over the Deimons. If they were right about her coming here. It could just be a meeting place for the group, something to make them feel secretive and superior. Like a college secret society meeting in a tomb or cellar.

  An owl hooted softly in the rafters above her, and something rustled just outside the wall. She crossed to the throne and picked up the velvet. It wasn’t very good quality and was too small to drape over the whole throne. Carefully, she sniffed it, but it didn’t smell any different from the barn overall. Okay, so if Cressida did sit here, if she bestowed flux from here, would there be residue?

  She draped the velvet across the seat and arms of the chair and climbed up into it, closing her eyes. But the light glared overhead now, stark and very nonatmospheric. She couldn’t concentrate. After turning off the lights and returning to the chair, this time when she closed her eyes she was able to sink down into her consciousness and reach out with all of her senses.

  The property itself had a sense of weight, of purpose. Nothing dramatic, like some people might feel in an ancient cathedral, but something suited to the work ethic of a farm. The air around her was still. Not a void, but empty of detectable remnants of who had used this space.

  She zeroed in on the throne under her, concentrating on the stiff fabric against her palms and fingers, the solid wood supporting her body. A faint blue shine seemed almost detectable, but it was so faint she doubted it was real.

  And then a sharp awareness of Numina struck her, followed by the faintest hint of dark, spicy aftershave. Her eyes flew open, but even adjusted to the darkness, she could see nothing. Slow, almost-silent footsteps came from outside the door. Whoever it was would be in the room any second, and there was nowhere for Marley to go.

  The doorknob rattled as it turned, the hinges squeaking slightly as the door opened. Marley held her breath and kept perfectly still. Maybe he’d leave the light off and move on because he thought no one was here. She was capable of stillness to a degree that rendered her part of the furniture, but that would only work if he never looked in her direction.

  The lights came on, still warmed up and therefore still bright. And Gage Samargo’s silver-blue eyes landed right on her.

  …

  Disappointment punched Gage in the gut when he saw the woman with the white eyes sitting in a throne-like chair ins
ide the barn. The implication was that his father was right, and she was the goddess dealing flux. He hadn’t realized how much he didn’t want her to be until now.

  They stared at each other for a few seconds. Then the woman rose and jumped off the base of the chair. Her tall black boots kicked up puffs of dust when she landed. Gage followed the rising dust up her snug jeans to the short leather jacket she wore over what appeared to be a black tank top. Her dark red hair was down tonight, and with the aggressive angle of her chin and the fire in her eyes, she looked very different from the woman he’d met in the club.

  He’d followed her when she and the guy with the tornado name left the hotel. There was no way he could get close to the church they drove to without being seen, so he’d found a spot in the cemetery on the other side of a hill for the Viper and moved as close as he could through the headstones.

  He’d dug a pair of high-powered binoculars out of the bottom of the tiny trunk—one of the pros of being a “businessman-adventurer”—and for a long time, nothing happened. Then he’d watched people walk into a church. He about died from boredom by the time he saw a figure stalking toward the building, possibly with a weapon. The distance meant Gage could do nothing, and his pulse had raced through the brief fight. If this woman had been the one who took down the figure, dragged him to his car, and stuffed him in the trunk, she had to be a goddess. No normal woman could have done all that.

  Gage had managed to follow them again, all the way to upstate New York, where they’d stared for a few minutes at a ruin of a barn before getting a motel room in Valatie, home of Washington Irving.

  Ichabod Crane Central High School on the town’s main road had triggered memory of a mention of the headless horseman on the Deimon’s online message board. In the last few hours, Gage had done some guided digging and found that the broker who’d handled the sale of this property was Numina. That was enough actionable evidence for him. He was done with the wait-and-see approach.

  “Where’s my brother?” he demanded, shoving the door closed behind him and blocking her path to it.

  The woman didn’t react outwardly to his aggression. She stood where she was, her expression unrevealing. “I don’t know.”

  “You know who he is.”

  “Yes. But I’ve never met him, and I don’t know where you can find him.”

  Gage narrowed his eyes. She could be lying, but he could usually tell when someone was. It was an important skill in business, and she didn’t have any of the typical tells.

  “If you know who he is, then you know who I am, and that puts me at a disadvantage.”

  “Yes, it does.” But she didn’t offer her name.

  Okay, then. He tried a different tack. “What’s the going rate for a dose of flux?”

  Finally, a reaction. Her eyebrow went up, and she said, “Why are you asking?”

  “Because I want some, obviously.”

  Damn, he felt clumsy. He didn’t usually approach a meeting so awkwardly, even those he wasn’t prepared for.

  She laughed. He tried not to frown and didn’t ask what was funny. Awkward was bad enough, but he wore defensiveness even worse.

  “You don’t want flux.” She folded her arms. “You don’t need it. But do you seriously think I’m the one who has it?”

  Yeah, he had…until now. “If you don’t, who does?”

  “Why do you want to know?” She shifted to lean against the chair and crossed her ankles, obviously to convey how little of a threat she considered him.

  Frustrated, Gage moved away from the door and studied the room they were in. It was unremarkable, even down to the markings on the floor. Chairs, boat shoes, a few loafers, and even a couple of pairs of boots. He spotted footprints that had to belong to the woman and followed their path to the throne. She hadn’t moved, just stood watching him.

  He thought about how easily Allie, the hotel clerk, had accommodated him. He was taking the wrong approach. Demanding and posturing was not his preferred MO, but this woman was too shrewd to fall for an abrupt change in his attitude, so he’d have to modulate it gradually.

  He strode across the barn and stopped a couple of feet from her. Close enough to nudge her comfort zone but not so close as to be threatening.

  “The other night you said you didn’t know my brother.”

  “As I said just now, I don’t know him. I do know who he is, but as your family is part of the billionaire club, many people do.”

  He glanced around, then back to her. “I thought only men could receive flux.”

  That surprised another laugh out of her, but she quickly schooled it. “And?”

  “If you’re not dealing it, you must be looking to get some yourself. Why else would you be here?”

  “I have no need or desire to receive it. My reasons for being here are personal.” An edge was detectable in her voice now, though barely.

  Gage had to admire her ability to avoid answering his questions without lying or sticking to obstinate silence. He took another step closer, and it was as if he’d stepped into another realm. The air surrounding her was warm and filled with a sweet, light fragrance, enticing enough to make him inhale deeper. He thought of fresh air and meringues. The scent was very unlike the tough persona she wore and much more innocent than the luscious femininity she’d presented the other night in the club. As he inhaled, it sent a curl of desire through him.

  He had to know who she was.

  “Tell me your name,” he murmured, staring into her purple-flecked eyes. They flickered uncertainly. “Just your first name.” He raised a hand, knowing if he touched her, the spell would break.

  “Marley,” she almost whispered, but as soon as the word was out of her mouth she backed away, her eyes darkening and anger filling her expression.

  “Don—” He cut himself off when noise from outside the barn interrupted. Voices. Then a chain rattled and hit the dirt. The voices got louder. It was a big group.

  He cursed and looked wildly around, knowing there was no place to hide. Marley twisted to look up and behind the throne. She didn’t want to be discovered here, either. Instinctively, Gage knew she wasn’t who his father had surmised, but maybe she could be an ally.

  The only place to go was up. Marley had already climbed onto the pedestal base, but she would be too short to get into the loft that overhung the wall. With one leap Gage was on the seat and pulling himself up to the top of it. His boots braced wide against the protrusions on either side of the seat back, he reached up for the top of the plywood wall. Thank god he was tall. And that he’d dabbled in parkour at college. He bounced up to balance on the two-by-four at the top of the wall, crouched, one hand touching the wood to help his balance.

  “Who the hell left the lights on?” said an annoyed voice in the outer hall.

  Gage could see the group filing in through the previously chained outer door. They looked straight ahead, down the hall, but in seconds they’d be in the main room and easily spot both of them. They had to hurry. He stretched to reach the edge of the loft. Below him, Marley stood on the chair. Twisting his wrist, he found a convenient stopper strip nailed to the edge of the loft. He grabbed with both hands and kicked sideways and up. It took two tries to catch the edge with one foot and drag himself to the loft floor. He rolled and swung around, reaching down to grab Marley’s wrist. To his shock, instead of letting him pull her up, she just used his leverage to grab the loft herself. In seconds she was at his side, and a lot more quietly than he’d done it.

  They both flattened themselves as much as they could and still see into the room below. And then the door opened, and eight men in their early to mid-twenties entered and milled around in the empty space. Gage examined every face as they came in, the wood of the loft edge digging hard into his hands as he squeezed. His brother wasn’t here. His mind raced. He could take all their pictures, figure out who they were, and track their activities to try to pinpoint where Aiden could be. Or after this meeting—or whatever it was—he could foll
ow them.

  Marley’s hand closed hard over his wrist, and he realized he’d started to push himself up. She shook her head and glared at him.

  She was right. Better to learn what he could first, then decide how to act. He settled back down to watch. A couple of the guys lugged a big case to the middle of the room and started unloading folding chairs. They set them up in a semicircle, then draped them all in that same cheap red velvet that had been heaped on the throne. One of the guys rearranged the fabric to cover the raw wood, then draped a white fur down its center. They laid a red-and-white runner from the throne to the door and set up a folding table, covered in more velvet, before unfolding a gold-colored stylized sun and hanging it on the wall.

  He and Marley exchanged disgusted, incredulous looks. Okay, some of these guys didn’t have the money they used to, but inexpensive didn’t have to mean tacky. Gage didn’t look away as quickly as Marley did, and he caught a slight smile she probably hadn’t meant him to see.

  The camaraderie might be odd with someone he’d been suspicious of only minutes before, but he liked it anyway. Being allies definitely worked for him.

  The guys settled nervously on their chairs, all except for one. He stood by the door, aiming his flashlight down the hall every few seconds. Gage didn’t recognize most of them, even on closer inspection, though one looked familiar enough that he was probably a sibling of someone Gage knew. He suspected a couple of them were regular guys, not Numina but hangers-on. There were some in every group, wannabes who weren’t let in on the secrets but were allowed to tag along because they would fetch drinks, carry notes to girls, and clean up after the ones who couldn’t hold their liquor. Gage hadn’t been part of that scene for a very long time and was ashamed of the brief period when it had made him feel important.

  Behind and below him, the outside door creaked. Gage inched forward and leaned over, but the walls cut off his angle and all he saw was moving shadow. The kid with the flashlight hissed excitedly to his friends and then stood at attention, shining the light down the outer corridor.