Cloud Rebel: R-D 3 (14 page)

"On it, honey," I said and folded space.

Auggie didn't seem surprised to see me. Matt sat in his office, as if he were waiting for me, too. I gave him half a frown before transporting both to Cordell.

Auggie cursed when he saw the rubble. Matt's brows knitted together but he didn't say anything. "Where's Opal?" I asked.

"I sent her back to Dublin," Matt said, refusing to take his eyes off the scene. "She's attempting to track the Zoran clone, but isn't having much luck. Bekzi is guarding those left at the beach house. How's the weather in your part of Canada?"

"Not so hot," I replied.

"Hmmph." Matt refused to laugh.

"You know, maybe Brett or Mr. Winkler could help us out, here," I said. "What we need is someone who can scent where those fuckers went, unless they skipped or relocated or whatever the hell they do. I understand doing it more than once or twice a day may be too much for some of them."

"Good point," Val turned in my direction. "If they relocated here, they may be saving energy before relocating to their next target."

"I'll call Winkler," Matt pulled out his cell phone. "Want to pick him up?" he turned to me and asked.

"I'll pick him up," I agreed. After all, a Sirenali couldn't hide mundane scents. They could only conceal themselves and those about them from detection by the powerful. Unless the Elemaiya thought to shield the ground they walked on, and it was my guess they didn't have the talent, then a good tracker could follow their trail.

"I'll be back," I said and disappeared.

* * *

I almost gasped when I saw Winkler. No, he looked exactly as he had when I'd seen him before. This time, what I read in his face wasn't pretty.

Yes, I researched his background when I read the history of Le-Ath Veronis. There was a gaping hole in that history, however, according to the Larentii account of things.

Somehow, Winkler had been saved from his own suicidal plan of handing his son the Dallas Pack by forcing him to make a challenge against his own father. Sadly, there was no record of who'd actually done the saving.

It had to be someone powerful enough to pull him back from the point of death, because his son had obeyed Winkler's wishes and torn out his throat.

I'd never wanted to give someone a lecture so badly in my life as I contemplated the aging werewolf. Gray was showing at his temples and there were lines in his face that wouldn't be seen in the future.

Winkler was tired. Tired of the everyday problems that demanded his attention. Tired of seeing his contemporaries fall. Tired of living without the woman he loved. Tired of waiting for another wolf to challenge him for the Dallas Pack.

Therefore, he intended to do what his father had done before him-demand that his son take his place in the tradition of any Pack-by killing the Packmaster in a challenge.

Come the full moon in two months, Winkler intended to die.

"Does your nose still work?" I asked, ignoring the vision of a large wolf with his throat ripped apart.

"It works fine. If Lissa were here, she'd be better, but she's not here." He tossed out a hand.

Lissa.
Queen
Lissa-of Le-Ath Veronis. He had no idea. I was still working on the conundrum of who'd been there to bring Winkler back, leave a doppelgänger in his place and haul him into the future before handing him over to the Saa Thalarr.

Damn
.

"Well, I'll buy the chicken-fried steak if you'll do some tracking for us," I said.

"At Don's Restaurant in Del City?"

"If that's what you want."

"I'm ready," he said, shoving his chair back and standing. Dressed in black jeans, boots and a polo, he was still handsome enough for the cover of a men's magazine. I didn't tell him that. Instead, I transported him to Cordell, where the others waited.

* * *

"Here's where the trail ends," Winkler sighed as we stood outside a local restaurant, which was now closed for the evening. Even the sign that spelled out Betsy's in green neon was dark in the window.

"You think they relocated from inside?" Matt asked.

"I can get us inside to check," I offered.

"Do it," Matt jerked his head toward the door.

It was-and wasn't-a mistake.

* * *

Captain Brett Walker

I'd learned plenty about scents in my brief association with the Dallas Packmaster. He'd told me to follow my gut, which in wolf terms meant instinct. Something about Dr. Farrell smelled off to me. I realized it when he took a barstool two down from mine-and next to Jen's.

What I didn't know how to do was confront him about it-or whether that was even wise. After all, how do you tell the man who saved your life that something doesn't feel right with him?

No, it wasn't a physical illness-as far as I could tell, he was in good health. Something whispered that it was mental or emotional, but I couldn't fathom the truth or the reason behind that notion.

Whatever it was, it made my gut churn. I didn't like it.

My wolf liked it even less. I realized I was growling softly when Dr. Farrell patted Jen's shoulder. They were human and didn't hear. For that, I was glad. I was determined to watch closely, however.

From now on.

* * *

Corinne

Dead customers were piled in a corner, with the wait staff and cooks piled atop them. If Val hadn't shielded us, we'd have been hit by the first blast leveled by one of the Dark Elemaiya.

Winkler was already wolf by the time the second blast came, which knocked out the window behind us and rattled chunks of tempered glass onto the sidewalk outside.

I cannot get a location on them-there must be a Sirenali here
, Val informed me.

Matt was realizing the same thing-somewhere, at the back of this small restaurant, four Elemaiya and at least one Sirenali hid themselves from us while one leveled power blasts in our direction.

I'm getting behind them
, I told Val, then folded space before he could protest. I found them in the kitchen, all facing the front where the others were-except one.

The Sirenali.

Before any of them realized I was there, I extended power and
Pulled
the Sirenali away, then folded space to the beach house in Port Aransas.

It was then, after I put my hands on him, that I realized the damage that had been done to him at a very young age.

* * *

Matt Michaels, Director

Joint NSA-Homeland Security Department

Something changed. Valegar and I knew it the moment it happened. Suddenly, all four Elemaiya were visible to our power searches.

Did Corinne destroy the Sirenali?
I asked Val mentally as I leveled a blast of my own toward the kitchen area where the four were hiding.

Winkler, in wolf form and released from Val's shield, leapt toward the kitchen. I barely had time to throw a shield around him before he had one Elemaiya by the throat, neatly biting his head off with one vicious jerk.

Val took a more direct approach, by eliminating the wall between the kitchen and dining area, revealing the other three to us. Winkler savaged a second one while Val separated the particles of the other two.

"Where's Corinne and the Sirenali?" I asked as Winkler regained his human form. He was naked and bloody, didn't give a damn that he was and spit on the bodies of the two he'd killed.

"She's at the beach house," Val turned bright blue eyes on me. "With the Sirenali. She says if we want to kill him, we have to, in her words, go through her, first."

"Damn," I grumbled before turning to the pile of bodies in a front corner of the restaurant. There had to be at least fifteen people in that pile.

"Ah. I see I have arrived too late," Belen said as he appeared nearby. Val held up a hand to prevent Winkler from growling at the new arrival.

* * *

Corinne

His name was Gerrett. He told me so in mindspeech. His own mother had cut out his tongue at age five before selling him for a very high price.

There are others like me
, he said as I tended the burns that festered upon his body. Those four Elemaiyan assholes had tortured him; that was obvious.

That's not good news, I'm sorry to say
, I informed him silently. He snorted his agreement.

Who are they?
I thought to ask.

I have two older brothers-our mother sold all of us into slavery
.
She will likely do the same to any other children she births. We are a source of income for her
.

Honey, I've heard of some fucked-up childhoods, but yours may be the worst
, I replied. "There, all healed," I said aloud as the last of his burns disappeared, leaving pink, healthy skin behind.

I wish I could thank you in my own voice, but as you see, I can only do it this way
.

That's all I need,
I said.

I have heard Larentii never involved themselves in the troubles of others
, he ventured.

"That's because you never met me before," I smiled at him. "When this is over, I'll try to find a safe place for you."

In my experience, there is no safe place for a mute Sirenali
.

"Let me work on that, all right?"

* * *

Matt Michaels

"What the hell happened here?" The county sheriff walked into the restaurant, where it now looked as if someone had set off a bomb following a tornado. Paper napkins littered the floors and crushed tables; ketchup, salt and pepper was strewn in loops and strings throughout.

He hadn't even seen the pile of bodies, yet.

"Matt Michaels, Director of the Joint NSA and Homeland Security Department," I whipped out my ID.

"What the hell are you doin' here?" he gritted.

"The two in the kitchen killed those people in the corner," I jerked my head toward the pile of bodies. "We took out the two in the kitchen. Unfortunately, the owner is at the bottom of the civilian pile. The two in the kitchen are responsible for the massacre in Star Cove and for the deaths of two Corpus Christi Police Officers. My team and I were tracking them. We got here too late to save anybody-the owner, his wait staff and the customers were already dead."

"What the fuck were they doing here, then?"

"Who knows? My experts still can't figure out why they attacked Star Cove." My experts didn't know, but I did. I carefully stepped around that fact.

"They're dead, though? Dead-dead?"

"As doornails. FBI has been called to remove the bodies and hand them over to forensics." I wasn't about to tell him that there were originally four offenders, and that two had disintegrated, courtesy of an angry Larentii.

"You need anything, you let me know," the sheriff jerked his head in an abrupt nod.

"Sure thing. I appreciate the offer."

Director Keef will investigate the deaths of his agents
, Valegar informed me in mindspeech.

Director Keef can kiss my ass-after he explains why he sent the four worst candidates in his employ to kill locals
, I replied, my mental voice stiff with displeasure. If Keef wanted to mix it up with me, I was ready.

"Be careful not to tamper too much with the timeline," Belen warned. For a moment, I'd forgotten he was there.

"What?" I began.

"These four-they were supposed to survive," Belen informed me. "I suspect that the rift was caused by the one known as Corinnelar, as she was created and inserted into the timeline-by those meddling with souls by using the drug."

"Is there a problem with her existence?" Valegar's words sounded deadly.

"No," Belen held up a hand. "The Mighty Heart has already approved of her; therefore, my judgment is moot in the matter. I haven't met her. I wish to rectify that."

"I have to stay and clean up this mess," I said.

"I should get back," Winkler interjected. I noticed that Valegar had managed to clothe the naked werewolf and clean the blood away before the sheriff arrived.

"I will transport you," Val offered. "I wish to check on Corinne."

"I'll go with you," Belen nodded.

"Is anybody staying here to help clean up?" I complained.

"I will," Colonel Hunter offered. Leo Shaw nodded mutely in agreement.

"Great. Go out and haul those forensics people in here. Those bodies are distracting."

Both stepped over broken glass, blood and ketchup to get to the door.

* * *

Corinne

"Oh, you're back," I said the moment Val arrived with Winkler. Someone else appeared behind them. Someone I didn't recognize.

He was tall. His features swam in my gaze, he shone so brightly. I blinked to clear my vision. A smile broke across his face, like the sun on a glorious morning. When I fell, I fell slowly, buoyed by the love that washed through me.