Chaos (Book 4) (The Omega Group) (8 page)

BOOK: Chaos (Book 4) (The Omega Group)
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“My what?” Gracey plopped herself on her bed and stared at
him.


Mr.
McMillan?” Orano said with eyebrows raised.

“Oh, that. Nope, I’ve never been married. After my dad died
and my mom moved us back to Virginia, she changed to her maiden name. I wanted
to stay with Sherwood, but as a minor, I didn’t have much choice in the matter,
so I’ve been Gracey McMillan ever since. I keep meaning to change it back, but
I’m afraid it would hurt her feelings if I did.”

Unexpected relief washed over Orano at the news. Why he
would even care whether or not she’d married was beyond him. Still, he felt
glad she hadn’t.

“And you would have known all that if you’d ever bothered to
return my calls or letters,” Gracey continued, her smile quickly changed to a sterner
expression. “Why didn’t you?”

Although Orano knew that question would come eventually, he
still felt unprepared to answer it. What could he have said?
I’m sorry I
abandoned you in your time of need, but I was too busy figuring out I wasn’t
exactly human and dealing with the fact that I killed a guy who thought Satan
spawned me.
Yeah, that would’ve gone over well.

Instead, he opted for vagueness. “Things got busy. I meant
to get in touch, but I guess I never got around to it.”

“Hmm. Well, I guess we’re sufficiently caught up on each
other’s lives, so I’m going to sleep now.” Gracey climbed under the sheets of
her bed and rolled over to face the window.

Orano’s heart twisted at the hurt in her voice, but he knew he
could say nothing to make her feel better. Even though she’d been his best
friend—his only friend—he couldn’t share his secret. Instead, he just stared at
her.

 

********

 

Gracey could feel Orano’s gaze boring through her back, yet
she remained still and quiet. Why she’d expected him to open up to her, she
didn’t know. He was just as hardheaded and stubborn as he’d been when they were
kids, but the same could be said about her. Just like she’d done all those
years ago, she would fight her way past the walls he’d built around himself and
get to his gooey center. Even if it killed her. At least this time, she could
recruit some help.

Chapter 8

 

The gym at the small hotel left a lot to be desired. It lacked
the serious equipment and heavy free weights Orano preferred and was so small
that even with less than a half dozen other people occupying the space, he felt
crowded. The feeling got worse when he noticed the other patrons paying more
attention to his workout than their own.

After a short forty-minute session, Orano gave up and
returned to his room. When he opened the door, he found Gracey sitting on the
end of her bed in a bathrobe, brushing her wet hair.

“Did you have a good workout?” she asked with a smile.

“Sure,” Orano said, glancing around the room. “Where’s
Phoenix. He was supposed to stay with you while I was gone.”

Before she could answer, the door to the bathroom swung
open, and out strode Phoenix wearing nothing but a towel. “Hey, buddy. Was the
gym full? I didn’t expect you back so soon.”

Orano’s gaze darted from his almost naked partner to Gracey,
and then back again. “I can see that,” he said through gritted teeth.

Phoenix wandered casually over to Gracey, leaned down, and
planted a kiss on her cheek. “Thanks for this.”

A warm smile spread across her now-red cheeks as she
answered him. “You’re welcome, sweetie. Now, go get dressed.”

Orano didn’t move a muscle as his partner stepped by him to
exit the room. When he glanced back to Gracey, he saw her smiling at him. “Sweetie?”
he asked.

“Just because you have no fondness for pet names doesn’t
mean everyone feels the same way.” With that, she turned away and continued to
brush her hair.

His jaw still clenched, Orano retreated to the steamy
bathroom to take his own shower. He forced himself to not imagine what had gone
on in the small space prior to his arrival.
Why do I care? They’re
consenting adults and can do whatever they want together.

Telling himself that didn’t help his mood, but it did
motivate him. He needed to find out what was going on with Sherwood Coven and
put a stop to it as quickly as possible. The faster he did that, the faster
he’d be home and back in his comfort zone—alone. He just needed to get through
this without beating Phoenix to a pulp.

Dressed in jeans and T-shirt, Orano stepped back into the
room. Gracey wore a yellow sundress and stood in front of the mirror,
inspecting her reflection from every angle. She reminded him of a teenager
getting ready for a date, though Orano could only guess at what girls did in
that situation.

“You ready for breakfast? I’m starving,” she said.

“Work up an appetite, did you?” Orano mumbled.

Breakfast at the nearby diner turned into another
marathon-eating event for Gracey. She inhaled her pancakes, eggs, and toast as
though it would be her last meal. Although Orano had little appetite himself,
he forced himself to finish his omelet while trying to ignore the small talk
coming from his companions. Phoenix, once again dressed like the Armani
poster-boy, leaned back in his chair with the casual confidence only a ladies’
man possessed.

Orano fought the urge to vomit his meal all over the little
shit.

After Gracey all but licked her plate clean, she finally
spoke. “So, what’s the plan for the barbecue this afternoon?”

Phoenix signaled the waitress to bring more coffee before
answering. “Tori is going to use the opportunity to size us up. She obviously
knows we’re here to help you and, judging by the attack last night, she’s none
too pleased about it. My guess is that she’ll try to take us out of the
picture.”

Gracey’s jaw dropped. “Then why are we going?”

“Because,” Orano interjected, “we need to size her up, too.
Right now, we’ve got nothing to go on. We need Tori to show us her hand.”

“And what if her hand is too good? What if you can’t handle
whatever it is she’s planning?” Gracey’s fear shone through her eyes.

Phoenix reached across the table to grab her hand. He gently
brushed his thumb across the backs of her fingers. “Don’t worry. We’ve been up
against a lot worse than her.”

Gracey sat straight, pulling her hand from his grasp and
into her lap. “No, you haven’t. I know you think you have, but this isn’t the
same situation. She’s a powerful witch, for God’s sake.”

The waitress chose that moment to refill their coffee mugs,
giving Gracey a strange look before moving on to the next table.

“Great, one more person who thinks I’m crazy.” She took a
sip of her coffee before continuing. “Without my powers, I can’t protect you
from them. All they would need is some of your hair or blood, and there are a
thousand different spells they could use to hurt you.”

“Speaking of your powers,” Phoenix said. “How exactly did
they bind them?”

“They would have used a lock of my hair to make a wax totem,
sealed it in a jar, and then spelled it. It’s actually a lot easier than you
might think. As long as my totem remains bound, so do I.”

“But I thought only Tori’s inner circle was in on her plan.
Why would the rest of the coven allow her to do that to you?” Phoenix asked.

“It’s standard operating procedure. When they put me in the
mental institution, there would have been an emergency meeting called to let
the members know what’s happened. The coven can’t afford to have one of its
members out of control and using magic. As soon as someone becomes a threat to
our secrecy, either by choice or by circumstance, we bind their powers.” Gracey
spoke as though all of this was normal.

Orano didn’t feel the same way. “How many people have you
done that to?”

“Since I’ve been a member, we’ve done it twice. Three times
now, I guess, if you include me. I’m not sure how many before then.” Gracey
raised her eyebrows in a quizzical expression. “Why do you look so weird? We
don’t hurt them. We just make sure that they can’t hurt us.”

“That’s what you think?” Orano’s temper flared. “What right
do you have to decide who is and who isn’t worthy of having powers? Just
because they might be different from you, doesn’t give you the right to dictate
how they’re allowed to live their lives. Someone has one bad day, and you
impose your life sentence without giving a single thought to them.” He slammed
his hand down on the table, rattling the dishes and attracting the attention of
every person in the room.

Both Phoenix and Gracey remained silent, eyes wide at the
outburst.

Orano took a deep breath, wishing he could have the last few
minutes back. He never lost control like that, especially around other people.
Being with Gracey was definitely affecting him, and he needed to get himself
under control before he said or did something he would regret.

Throwing a wad of cash on the table, he rose to leave. After
exchanging wary glances, Phoenix and Gracey followed.

Chapter 9

 

Gracey held her breath as she pushed Tori’s doorbell. Agreeing
to attend the party went against her better judgment but, according to Orano
and Phoenix, it was their best shot to get the information they needed. Still,
she couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that they were making a mistake.

“Gracey!” Tori beamed as she opened her door. “I’m so glad
you came. Oh, and you brought your friends, too. Excellent. Come in. Come in.”

The pageant smile plastered on Tori’s face did an amazing
job of hiding her true personality. If Gracey hadn’t personally seen the
woman’s evil side, she’d never have believed it existed. She only hoped Orano
and Phoenix weren’t fooled.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?” Tori
asked, still playing the part of perfect hostess.

“Sorry, um, this is Orano Tulay and Phoenix Reese. Guys,
this is Tori Houlton.” Gracey did her best to smile happily but failed.

“Oh, such unusual names,” Tori said while shaking their
hands. “Please, make yourselves at home. Most everyone is gathering outside.
There’s plenty of food and drink, so help yourselves to whatever you like.”

As they made their way to the backyard, Gracey forced
herself to breathe normally. Though she’d tried to warn the guys about the
dangers they would face, she couldn’t seem to get them to understand. Mundanes tended
to underestimate the supernatural. As soon as they’d left Tori and the other
guests far enough behind, Gracey gave it one more shot.

“Don’t underestimate these people, and remember, don’t let
anyone get a lock of your hair,” she whispered.

Orano smirked while pointing to his head. The close-cropped
cut he sported would make it difficult for anyone to grab hold of his hair.
Phoenix, on the other hand, wore the oh-so-stylish shaggy look—not short and
not long—attained only through a liberal application of product. She sent him a
pointed stare.

“Got it.” Phoenix smiled as though they didn’t have a care
in the world.

The small crowd in the yard consisted of everyone Gracey
expected. Tori’s inner circle huddled together by the picnic table, with Liza
leading the conversation. Half a dozen other coven members—the inner circle
wannabees—hovered close by the group in an obvious effort to be included by Liza.
So, pretty much the same as always,
Gracey thought.

As she took in the scene around her—how perfectly normal it
appeared—it occurred to Gracey that there was no way Orano and Phoenix would
believe her. How could they? She’d given them a wildly outlandish story but
hadn’t produced a shred of evidence to back it up. And considering she’d
claimed that the world was at risk from witchcraft, of all things, she really
couldn’t blame them thinking her crazy. Hell, if they did believe her,
she
might have questioned
their
sanity. She needed to find proof.

Phoenix flashed one of his toothy smiles. “Not that I’m
complaining, but why are we the only men here? Don’t these women have husbands
or boyfriends?”

“Most don’t. Those that do never bring them to coven
gatherings. It’s kind of an unwritten rule. The fact that Tori explicitly invited
you guys means she’s up to something.” Gracey lowered her voice and leaned in.
“How are we going to sneak away to search the house without being seen? There
aren’t enough people here to get lost in the crowd, and you two kind of stand
out.”

“Let’s see now. A yard full of unaccompanied women. Whatever
might I do to keep them occupied?” Phoenix flashed a lascivious smile. “I’m
sure I’ll think of something.”

“Think of something for what?” Tori asked as she sidled up
beside them.

“It’s my mother’s birthday next week, and I’ve had a hard
time figuring out the perfect gift for her. Perhaps you could help me come up
with a few ideas,” Phoenix answered smoothly, as though lying came just as
easily to him as breathing.

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll love whatever you get her.” With that,
Tori all but dismissed Phoenix and focused her attention on Orano. “You must
tell me, what is the origin of your name? I’ve never met a Tulay before, or an
Orano for that matter.”

Gracey stifled a giggle at the boys’ reactions. Phoenix
appeared shocked at the rebuff with eyes wide and mouth hanging slightly open.
Orano, on the other hand, looked horrified. The muscles in his jaw twitched as
he took a small step backward, away from Tori. As a child, he’d always shied
away from attention of any kind. He’d obviously not changed much in that regard
over the years.

Recovering quickly from the blatant rejection, Phoenix
interjected, “Do tell, big guy. Don’t leave our hostess hanging.”

Orano’s eyes narrowed at the taunt and, for a moment, Gracey
thought he might punch his partner. Instead, he said flatly, “I’m Nigerian.”

“Nigerian. Really? Were you born there?” Tori wrapped her
arm through Orano’s and led him away on a friendly stroll, peppering him with
questions and unwanted physical contact.

Once they were far enough away that their voices could no
longer be heard, Phoenix added, “I think that’s our cue to start snooping.”
Then, loud enough for the other backyard occupants to hear, “Can you show me to
the little boy’s room, Gracey?”

Once inside the house, Gracey glanced over her shoulder out
the sliding glass door. As expected, Liza’s gaze trailed them. “The bathroom is
right over here.” She led Phoenix to the small powder room around the corner.
“Sorry, Liza was watching us.”

“That might be a problem. You wait out here while I spend
the appropriate amount of time in the bathroom. When I come out, if she’s still
a little too curious, we’ll just rejoin the party.”

“But we need to find evidence of Tori’s plan. We can’t just
give up,” Gracey pleaded.

Phoenix put his hands on her shoulders. “If there’s evidence
here, we’ll find it. But we can’t risk getting caught looking.”

Feeling as though she’d just been placated, Gracey nodded
her head reluctantly. What else could she do?

********

Phoenix tamped down the stab of guilt he felt at allowing
Gracey to believe they’d just give up. She’d looked so dejected. Of course, he
had no intention of leaving the barbecue without searching every inch of the
house, but he couldn’t very well tell her how he planned to do it. He entered
the small half bathroom and closed the door behind him. Within a few seconds,
he’d connected with a host bird perching in a tree at the far corner of the
backyard.

Splitting his consciousness with a bird felt much like
watching television using the split screen setting. Half of his vision came
from his own eyes, while the other half came from his host’s. The same held
true for his hearing, although with that he could tune into whichever source he
chose. Once he connected, the bird’s body belonged to him for as long as he
needed it. He’d spent years learning to control a host while simultaneously
keeping himself fully functional in his own body.

The high-pitched tone of Tori’s voice came through his host
loud and clear. Phoenix couldn’t resist tuning in as he watched Orano being led
toward the tree where the bird still perched.

“So you never met your father?” she asked. “That’s just so
sad. What about the rest of your family?”

Orano took a deep breath before answering. “It’s always been
just me and my mother.”

“Oh, that’s just so interesting. I come from a huge family
that gathers every chance they get. I can’t imagine …”

Tori’s voice quieted in Phoenix’s head as he tuned out from
the bird’s sense of hearing. Knowing how difficult that conversation—or any
conversation for that matter—would be for Orano made him pity the poor guy. The
faster they finished their search, the faster they could rescue him. And,
judging by the scowl on the big guy’s face, he really needed rescuing.

Phoenix opened the door to find Gracey standing exactly
where he’d left her. “Has anyone come inside?” he asked.

“No, so let’s get started. I don’t know how much time we’ll
have.” Gracey took his hand and pulled him down a short hallway lined with
dozens of photographs. “This is Tori’s office.” She pushed the handle down, but
froze before fully opening the door.

“What are you up to, Gracey?” A stern voice, the kind
normally associated with a strict high school principal, called out.

Gracey whipped around and gasped. “Liza … uh ….”

“She was just showing me these incredible picture collages. They’d
be perfect for my mother’s birthday gift. Do you know where Tori purchased
them?” Phoenix raised his eyebrows as he awaited her answer.

Liza glanced back and forth between them before speaking.
“I’m not sure where she got them. Why don’t you guys come out back and ask her
yourself?”

“Perfect!” Phoenix clapped his hands together and beamed a
smile as they followed Liza to the kitchen. She opened the sliding glass door and
gestured for them to exit.

Phoenix waggled his finger. “My mother would not be pleased
if I forgot my manners that easily. Ladies first.” He gave them a courtly bow
before pulling the door to its fully opened position.

Gracey giggled as she stepped onto the deck. Even Liza
seemed to loosen up a bit, giving him a coy grin when he held her hand to guide
her out the door. Phoenix stepped out and pointed to the back corner of the
yard. “There’s Tori,” he said as both women turned in that direction.

His host bird fluttered through the open door unnoticed.

Orano, with Tori’s arm wrapped around his, stood ramrod
straight. “Enjoying yourself?” he asked with one eyebrow raised.

“Thoroughly. I think I’ve got my mother’s gift figured out.
Tori, you must tell me where you got those beautiful picture frames in your
hallway.”

As their hostess rambled through an unnecessarily long
answer to his question, Phoenix nodded politely. He commented when appropriate and
continued to make small talk, though his attention remained split. No one
seemed to notice that he was simply going through the motions of the
conversation while he focused on the images seen through the eyes of his bird
host.

********

Tori’s office door hung slightly ajar, left that way
after Liza’s earlier interruption. He flew through the small crack and landed
on a very well organized desk. Not a good sign. Someone that clean and tidy
would be less likely to leave incriminating evidence lying around. Still, he
needed to try. The three desk drawers forming the right-hand leg of the desk
were all closed, making it impossible for his bird to gain entry. A laptop,
however, sat open in the middle of the desk.

Phoenix used his borrowed beak to peck the spacebar,
bringing the unit out of sleep mode. Thankfully, no password box appeared, and
the machine booted up to the home screen. Without the benefit of using the
mouse pad—something a bird just couldn’t pull off—maneuvering through the
various point-and-click commands required him to use shortcut keys. With one
clawed foot on the ctrl key, he pecked at the keyboard until the document file
opened and scanned the list of titles. Most were what you’d expect to find on a
home computer—address book, bank statements, tax documents, etc.—but one caught
his attention. He pecked the curser key until the document called “New World” highlighted
and pecked the enter key.

Although he’d been hoping to find a manifesto detailing
Tori’s plans, instead the document appeared to be a mish mosh of portions of
research papers and essays cut and pasted together. Each piece, written by a
different expert in the field, discussed the possible ramifications of a
worldwide power failure. Phoenix pecked the escape key until the home screen
appeared, and then opened Tori’s email file. Printing out the “New World”
document would have been easy, but his bird would have had a difficult time
gathering the pages and flying out with them. Therefore, his best option was to
simply email the file to himself and erase the record.

Once he closed the mail program, Phoenix made the short
flight to the bookshelves. He could only see the spines of the books, which
didn’t help him with the many old texts. Their covers looked as though they
were homemade out of some sort of leather and held no writing on the part his
bird could see. The textbooks were a different story. He recognized some of the
author’s names from the file he’d just seen on the laptop. Apparently, Tori had
a bit of an obsession with post-apocalyptic possibilities.

The other items on the shelves were either collectables
or heirlooms. Several crystal fragments, a carved glass bowl, a mortar and
pestle usually used for crushing pills or herbs, and several small sacks
emanating odd odors. Perhaps they weren’t heirlooms. If Phoenix had to guess at
what a witch would use to perform spells, those items would fit the bill.

Voices coming from the kitchen area told Phoenix he no
longer had the house to himself. He fluttered over to the office door, landing
silently on the carpet, and poked his head into the hall. Liza, with another
woman he didn’t recognize, placed an empty platter on the counter and proceeded
to fill it with sandwiches and raw vegetables. She handed the plate to her
companion and said, “I need to use the restroom. I’ll be right out.”

The office door would be in full view of the woman as
soon as she entered the short hallway. After almost catching Gracey opening it
earlier, Liza might be inclined to investigate. As a bird, it would be easy for
Phoenix to find a spot to hide if she looked in the room, but that wasn’t what
had him worried. Even if she found nothing to raise her suspicions, the woman
would surely close the door, locking his host inside.

The only two doors in the hall visible from his vantage
point were both shut, leaving him no escape route other than flying right over Liza’s
head and most likely being forced out of the house with a painful broom before
completing his search. A quick look upward showed one possibility.

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