Chaos (Book 4) (The Omega Group) (7 page)

“Give me”—Phoenix pushed the latest victim of his expertly
wielded baton to the ground—“a minute.”

Orano looked over his shoulder at Gracey, who’d given up
pounding on the door. Her eyes glistened in fear as they darted from one group
of attackers to the next. So far, she’d been unhurt. Orano intended to keep it
that way.

“They’re on their way,” Phoenix said.

“Tell them to hurry,” Orano retorted after kicking the switchblade-wielding
amateur in the gut when he tried to get up and rejoin the fight.

Before the words left his mouth, the rumble of hundreds of
beating wings filled the air. Orano glanced upward expecting to see stars but
was instead greeted by an undulating blanket of little feather-covered bodies,
each weaving an intertwining pattern with the others. His partner had used his
connection with the bird to call in the rest of its flock.

“We’re concealed,” Phoenix said.

“Get behind me.” Orano turned to Gracey. “Cover your eyes,”
he commanded.

“What? Why?” she asked.

“Just do it!” He put as much authority into his voice as he
could.

When she complied, Orano shot his hands outward. The
darkness was immediately replaced by a spreading flash of blinding light, as
Orano pushed a halo of electrical energy in an ever-growing arc around them.
The ring of current slammed into the nearest assailants, igniting their central
nervous systems until they collapsed, before continuing on its way to the next
victims. When the radius of energy reached the far corners of the alley, Orano
closed his hands into tight fists, cutting off the stream at its source.

Darkness immediately enveloped them, this time even more
complete, as their pupils had yet to dilate in compensation for the sudden lack
of light. The raucous beating of wings slowly receded as their living
camouflage dispersed into the night sky.

“Is everyone all right?” Orano asked.

“We’re good,” Phoenix answered. “I can’t say the same for
our clothes, though.”

Orano looked down and found not blood spattering his shirt
and pants, but dozens of oily white bird droppings. “Really?”

Phoenix shrugged his shoulders innocently. “It’s a
trade-off.”

“What the hell was that?” Gracey took in the scene around
them.

As his eyes began to adjust, Orano understood the fear in
her voice. Bodies littered the small alleyway, most still twitching from the
jolt of electricity.

“Don’t worry, they’re not dead. We just hit them with
Tasers,” Phoenix said with his usual calm confidence, conveniently forgetting
to mention the ones that probably
were
dead.

Orano reached around her and pulled on the restaurant’s
door. As he’d expected, it opened easily. “You still want to leave?” he asked
Phoenix.

“Hell no. This just got fun.”

********

Tori stared in disbelief as the image once again appeared in
the mirror. Just when things were getting interesting, a flock of birds obscured
her view. They were there mere moments, but apparently that was long enough.
Every gang member had been incapacitated by … what? A flash bang grenade? Her
only hint was an explosion of light originating below the throng of birds.

“What the hell happened?” Liza, her second in command, asked.
“I felt that energy when it hit our barrier. We all did.”

The other women nodded their agreement before looking to
Tori for answers.

“They must have brought some sort of weapon. A flash bang
grenade, maybe,” Tori said.

“Who brings a flash bang grenade to dinner?” Liza asked
incredulously.

“I don’t know.” Tori’s disappointment quickly turned to
anger, and she lashed out by hurling one of the gang member’s totems against
the wall, almost knocking her Hans Baldung print to the floor. “You saw the
same thing I did. Do you have any better ideas?”

Liza slowly shook her head. “No, I …” Her voice trailed off
as though she’d lost the thought. “What if it wasn’t a weapon at all? What if
they’re like us?”

“You think they’re warlocks?” Tori laughed in disbelief.
“No. Your imagination is working overtime. Remember, when you hear hoof beats,
think horses not zebras.”

“That’s what I’m doing, Tori. Think about it. No one would
bring a weapon like that to dinner. And all those birds blocking our view at
that exact moment? Grace must have asked some other coven for help. It’s the
only explanation that fits.”

Liza’s excitement seemed to be spreading. All three of the
women started yammering about the possibility of the two government men
actually being warlocks. Tori had to admit that it wasn’t as much of a stretch
as she’d first thought.

“Okay, if they’ve got magic, that changes things,” Tori got up
and stepped over to the sole piece of art she’d hung in the room, straightening
the frame. The print, a copy of a woodcut impression over four hundred years
old entitled
Witches’ Sabbath
, depicted five witches in the midst of
casting a spell. Although the artist intended the piece to be sinister, Tori
always saw it as beautiful.

“Should we cancel the next demonstration? Maybe lay low
until the big event?” Liza asked.

Tori tapped a pencil on the corner of her desk as she
thought. It might be smart to do just that, but they still needed to recruit
more covens. The Diablo Canyon blackout worked perfectly—and attracted several covens
to their cause—but even with that extra power, directing the largest solar
storm in recorded history would be difficult.

“No, we need the rest of the European covens on board, and
that won’t happen unless we show them what we can do.” Tori stood to emphasize
her point.

“We blacked out a nuclear power plant with all of its redundant
back-up systems, for God’s sake. What more do they want?” Liza’s frustration
became apparent.

“Something bigger,” Tori replied. “And with the additional
power from the new covens, we can give it to them.”

“You’re on speaker, Julian.” Orano set his phone on the
small table next to the hotel room’s window.

The Omega Group’s computer genius skipped the preamble and
got right to the point, his voice tinny through the small speakers. “Solar
activity runs in cycles of about eleven years. Right now, we’re at the height
of that cycle, where activity is most violent. There’s an enormous sunspot, way
bigger than the one that caused the storm in 1989 that blacked out Quebec.
Solar flares are virtually guaranteed.”

“And those flares are expected to cause more blackouts?”
Phoenix asked.

“No. In fact flares aren’t the real problem. The CMEs are.”

Orano waited for Julian to continue but, as usual, the
genius required some prodding. “Let’s just assume that we have no idea what
you’re talking about. Can you please give us the
Reader’s Digest
version?”

“Okay. A CME, or Coronal Mass Ejection, is an eruption on
the sun’s surface. It shoots a billion tons of plasma into space at almost the
speed of light. Normally, they don’t come anywhere near Earth, but once in a
while we get a direct, or almost direct hit. That’s when things go crazy.”
Julian sounded like one of those nutty professors who got too excited about his
lecture while his students fell asleep.

“What kind of crazy are you talking about?” Orano asked.

“When a CME hits our atmosphere, it causes a geomagnetic
storm which basically restructures the Earth’s magnetic field. The magnetic
activity and electric currents can disrupt satellites, telecommunications,
power grids—pretty much anything that uses electricity. Have you guys heard of
the Carrington Event?”

Orano glanced at Phoenix then Gracey. Both wore blank
expressions. “No. What is it?”

“Only the largest and most powerful geomagnetic storm ever
recorded. In 1859, Earth took a direct hit from a huge CME. Telegraph networks
were destroyed worldwide and operators were electrocuted even with the
network’s power shut off.”

“That doesn’t sound all that bad,” Phoenix said.

“Are you kidding?” Julian yelled through the phone. “If that
kind of hit happened today, a time when the entire world runs on electricity
and is completely interconnected, it would be catastrophic. Imagine a world
where all electrical systems are gone in a matter of hours.”

“Oh my God,” Gracey whispered. “When she temporarily shut
down the nuclear plant, I assumed she’d been trying the magic out, like a test
drive. I called Robert because I thought she was planning on doing it for real
the next time—causing a core melt down. I had no idea she would do something of
this magnitude.”

“I don’t think she can,” Julian answered. “There’s no way
anyone or anything has enough power—even the supernatural kind—to create a
CME.”

Gracey didn’t look convinced. She’d chewed her fingernails
to the point of drawing blood and, once again, Orano reflexively reached out to
pull her hand away from her mouth.

“We’re working under the possibility that the coven
operating here had something to do with the flare that caused the blackout in
California,” Orano said. “If that’s the case, then their endgame has to be even
bigger.”

“Maybe, but maybe not,” Julian responded. “What if
California
was
their endgame?”

“If they’d already accomplished their goal, then Gracey
wouldn’t be a target,” Phoenix said. “They’d have no reason to try to discredit
her, not to mention the attack on all three of us earlier tonight. No, they’ve
got something else planned.”

Their conversation got interrupted by the theme song from
Harry
Potter
. A blush crossed Gracey’s cheeks as she reached for her cell phone.
Her jaw dropped when she read the caller ID. “It’s Tori.”

“Julian, we’ll call you back.” Orano pressed the end button
on his phone and gave instructions to Gracey. “Put it on speaker. Keep your
voice as normal as possible. We don’t want to tip our hand.”

Gracey nodded, then answered. “Hello?” She sounded
tentative, but that could easily be attributed to spending time in a mental
institution.

“Gracey! It’s so good to hear your voice. You left the shop
so quickly yesterday that we didn’t have a chance to talk. I’ve been worried
about you. I just heard about your recent struggles and wanted to check in. Are
you okay?” Tori’s voice dripped with sweetness.

Before she answered, Gracey took a breath and shook her
head, as though ridding her brain of cobwebs. “I’m doing great, Tori. Thanks
for asking.”

“Oh, I’m thrilled to hear it. Look, I’m having a backyard
barbecue at my house tomorrow for some friends from the coven. I’d love it if
you could come. That is, if you’re feeling up to it.”

“Um,” Gracey’s eyes widened as she waited for instructions
from Orano.

He covered the phone’s microphone with his thumb and
whispered, “Tell her you have guests. Try to get her to invite us as well.”

Gracey nodded. “I’m not sure, Tori. I have some friends here
for a few days and I’d hate to leave them alone.”

“Then bring them. The more the merrier. I won’t take no for
an answer. I’ll see you and your friends tomorrow around four.”

The line went dead, but Gracey continued to stare at the
phone. “This is going to be bad, isn’t it?”

Phoenix wrapped his arm around her, gently squeezing her
shoulder. “She’s planning something, that’s for sure. But so are we.”

“We are? Okay, good. I think.” A yawn interrupted Gracey’s
ramblings and quickly spread throughout the group. “It’s been a long day. If
it’s all right with you guys, I’m going to head to bed.”

Orano stood. “I’ll join you.” The shocked look on both
Gracey’s and Phoenix’s faces had him sputtering out a clarification. “Not like
that. I just meant that I’m going to bed, too. In the same room, but by
myself.” Before he could embarrass himself anymore, he opened the door and held
it for Gracey.

Phoenix got in one last dig as they left the room. “Gracey,
if you get bored with your roommate, I’m right next door.”

The blush that covered her cheeks in response bothered Orano
more than the comment itself. He glared at Phoenix before slamming the door on
yet another one of his partner’s wry grins.

Orano’s chest tightened as they entered their room. “Which
bed do you want?” he asked.

“I’ll take the one by the window. I like to see the stars at
night.” Gracey plopped her suitcase on the bed and grabbed her nightclothes.
“I’ll be right back.”

As he watched her enter the bathroom and close the door,
Orano let out a long breath. His nerves were getting the better of him. When he
looked at Gracey, he saw his childhood friend. The girl who’d driven him crazy
by breaking through his well-honed gruff exterior. The girl who never let him
retreat from her, even when being his friend caused her trouble. The girl who’d
given him his first kiss.

“Something wrong, Sparkles?” she asked as she exited the
bathroom wearing a huge T-shirt and shorts.

The girl who’d nicknamed him Sparkles.

“No, and can you please not call me that?” Orano grumbled.

“No can do, Sparkles. You’re stuck with that one for life.”
Gracey laughed.

Orano grabbed his bag and stomped off to the bathroom to get
himself ready for bed. The memory of the day she’d given him that name flooded
his thoughts.

It had been his least favorite day of the year during middle
school. The day all of the students brought their fathers to school and
introduced them to the class. Since Orano didn’t have a father—at least not one
he’d ever met—he sat alone and endured the smirks from his classmates. By the
time lunch break came around, he’d had about all he could take.

Instead of heading outside to eat with the other kids where
he would no doubt have been tortured even more, Orano grabbed his lunch box and
snuck into an empty classroom to eat in peace. Mrs. Greer, his seventh grade
art teacher, always left her room unlocked at lunch, so it quickly became his
secret hideaway. That day, however, it didn’t offer the quiet it usually did.
He could hear his classmates laugh and play with their fathers through the open
window.

Grinding his teeth in anger, Orano sat on the floor trying
to ignore the sounds. He pulled out his lunch and tore through it as though he
hadn’t eaten in days. When he finished, he dutifully picked up the empty
wrappers and tinfoil to throw them in the trashcan. One piece, however, drew
his eye. The yellow Post-It must have been hidden in his lunch box, and he’d
missed it in his haste. He uncrumpled the note and read his mother’s words.

Darling, don’t let them get to you. They’re not worth it.
I love you!

His anger quickly turned to guilt as he thought of his mom.
Even though he’d never mentioned the day’s planned activities to her, she’d
known anyway and tried to make him feel better. He’d been so miserable about
not having a father to bring to school, that he’d ignored what he did have. A
mother who loved him.

After pressing the note against his pants in an effort to
remove the creases, he carefully placed it back inside his lunch box. She was
right. They weren’t worth it. He would deal with that day like he dealt with
all others—with strength and courage. Just like his mom taught him.

The calm that came over him after reading his mother’s words
didn’t last very long. Some of the boys in his class were playing kickball
outside the open window, and their conversation set Orano’s blood to boil.

“Did you see him sitting there? What a dork.”

“I heard his dad left before he was even born because he
didn’t want him.”

“No, I heard that his mom had so many boyfriends, she
doesn’t even know who his father is.”

Orano clenched his fists. He’d heard those words before, but
on that day they were more than he could bear. As he reached for his lunchbox,
the rubber ball being kicked by the boys outside flew through the window,
crashing into Mrs. Greer’s art supplies on a nearby table. He heard the boys
curse before running away so as not to get caught.

Broken glass lay all around Orano, along with splattered
paint and several markers. When he reached out to clean up the mess he would no
doubt be blamed for, the sun streaming in through the windows reflected off his
arm in a thousand tiny prisms.

The jar smashed by the kickball had been full of glitter,
and it now covered Orano from head to toe. He swiped at his arms and shirt,
desperate to remove the glimmering stuff before being forced to rejoin his
tormentors in class. They would never let him hear the end of it if they saw
him like this. No matter how hard he tried, though, the glitter remained. His
day was about to get even worse.

The door behind him opened, and Orano readied himself for
the chastising he would surely get from Mrs. Greer. But none came.

“What happened?” a sweet voice asked.

Orano turned around to see a tiny girl with red pigtails
standing in the open doorway, eyes wide.

“Nothing,” he growled, still trying to wipe himself clean.

Ignoring his hostile tone, the girl skipped over to him.
“You’re never going to get glitter off like that, silly. Come here.” She
grabbed a roll of packing tape from the teacher’s desk, tore off a long piece,
and wrapped it around her hand. When she patted his arm, the glitter stuck to
the tape, leaving nothing behind.

Orano quickly snatched more tape and copied the girl’s
actions. Within a few minutes, his skin and clothing were clean.

“See? Easy as pie. My name’s Gracey, by the way.” She
reached out her hand and waited patiently for him to respond.

“I’m Orano,” he said as he shook her hand. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Gracey’s smile beamed brighter than the
glitter. “This is my first day. You wanna be friends?”

Orano, dumbfounded that someone actually wanted to be his
friend, just stared at her.

“You don’t talk much, do you? No matter, I talk enough for
the two of us. At least, that’s what my mom always says. Anyway, I need to get
to my locker. The bell’s going to ring soon and I don’t even know where I’m supposed
to go next. This place is so confusing. I’ll meet you at the front doors after
school so we can walk home together. See you then.”

Orano stood silently as Gracey spun around and skipped out
of the room. Although he knew her desire to be his friend would disappear as soon
as she realized he was an outcast, that didn’t stop him from enjoying the
moment. When the bell rang, he walked into his next class sporting a rare grin.

“You all right in there?”

Gracey’s voice came through the bathroom door and brought
Orano back to the present. When he opened it, he saw her standing with her arms
crossed over her chest, wearing the same beaming smile she’d sported since
childhood.

“Damn, Sparkles. How much time do you spend at the gym?” She
poked him several times on his bare chest with her finger. “Do you bench press
cars?”

Orano sidestepped his way past her and climbed into bed,
closing his eyes.

“Seriously? We haven’t seen each other in a decade and
you’re not even going to talk to me?”

Her breath on his face told him she hadn’t followed his lead
and gone to bed like he’d hoped she would. When he opened his eyes, all he
could see was her crinkled nose and her tongue sticking out a few inches from
his face.

“Very mature,” he said.

“It worked, didn’t it? So, what have you been doing all
these years?” she asked.

Orano took a deep, defeated breath and pushed himself to a
seated position. “After high school, I went to Middle Tennessee State
University. When I graduated, I moved to Jacksonville to work for Finley. I’ve
lived there ever since.”

Gracey twisted her face into a scowl. “Very concise. I’m
glad to see you haven’t changed.”

Orano felt a slight blush rise on his cheeks, something that
he remembered happening every time she called him out when they were kids.
“What about you? Where’s your husband?”