Dealers of Light (20 page)

“What?”
Sean’s brows went up.

“The date.
I know when it will be.”

“You do?” Cara
’s heart flipped. “How can you know what Desmond has planned?”

“It’s not so much a time as an event,” Rolf said.

“An event?” Sean frowned.

“Yes.  There is a time each month when a Light-dealer’s powers are at their strongest. Only an ancient would know this.”

Cara had never felt stronger at any specific time. “I don’t understand.”

“Exactly.
You wouldn’t know. There is no difference in how you feel. It’s a difference in possibilities, not abilities.”

Cara frowned.
That makes no sense.

“
Then when, sir?” Sean asked. “When will it be?”

“In two nights,” Rolf said. “When the moon
has waned and its lunar pull cannot disrupt the flow of Light.”

She
collapsed in the chair. Sean’s eyes flickered from Rolf to her and he twisted the folders in his hands. Two nights! They couldn’t hope to do anything to stop the Takers in so short a time.

“What can we do?” Sean asked. “We can’t defeat this plan by
then.”

Rolf handed Sean the bundle of papers and settled his gaze on Cara. “Cara, call your friends. Have them meet us at the
Norfolk City dock in two hours. We’re leaving.”

###

A few minutes before noon, Sean dropped Cara, Dusty and Rolf on the curb at Norfolk’s Waterside complex beside the city dock. Rolf carried a black box containing the golden crystal device.

“There she is.
” Rolf’s voice held a note of pride as he pointed to the boat taking up the entire length of the outer dock. “
Avalon
.”

Cara stared, open mouthed,
at the enormous ship. Glowing mahogany and gleaming brass fit with the other antiques and precious items Rolf collected. “Wow.”

“Beautiful,
isn’t she?” Rolf paused at her side. “
Avalon
is a Trumpy. A new one. They just started making them again.” He glanced down at her. “Do you remember the old US presidential yacht that was eventually sold?”

“Yes,” she said.
“Called
Sequoia
.”

“It was also a
Trumpy. An old one, built in the 1920’s. Trumpy was
the
name in ship building elegance for another era.”

“How appropriate for your collection,” she murmured. “How big is it?”

“One hundred twenty-five feet.”

“Double wow.”

As they drew closer, she admired the details of the clean, white hull and rich mahogany of the upper cabin structure and pilot house, shiny with a thick varnish coating. Crew members in navy blue uniforms scurried about the deck. On the top sat a small launch made entirely of mahogany with lifts at each end, which could hoist it up and over into the water. Radar and other electronic structures spiked up from the roof of the bridge.

Rolf took her
by the elbow and hurried her on as her feet lagged in proportion to her growing awe of the imposing ship. “Come on, Cara.”

Once onboard, Rolf showed her to the cabin
she would use and in clipped tones indicated the general layout of the ship.

“Please
, excuse me now. I have to consult with the captain on what course we will need to take. Make yourself at home and keep a lookout for your friends.” He hurried away and left her feeling insignificant in the spacious salon. She glanced at the windows placed along both sides of the salon, all precisely half covered with burgundy shades. Very ship shape.

She wandered over to the mahogany bar beside the stairs. A wide variety of liquor and wine bottles sat in a shiny brass tray on the counter behind the bar. It would keep them secure while the boat was moving. The wall behind the bar was a six foot long, built-in book shelf. A flat screen TV hung from a ceiling bracket to the left of the bar.

Across from there, a sitting area of plush, off-white couch, loveseat and wing chairs circled an oval mahogany coffee table. She strolled past them and paused at the polished dining table for ten.

Cara turned in circles
, blinking at the lavish furnishings. The aura of an elegant past blended with state of the art technology. She floated in a crazy dream, headed into the future with no idea of the course or outcome. The opulence of all this took her breath away.

“Ma’am, I think some of your friends are coming.” One of the crew stuck his head in the door from outside.

She pulled herself back to reality and followed him outside. Amber and Tor, loaded with bags, stopped twenty feet from the boat, staring with mouths hanging open.

“
Hey
.” Cara waved to them and they quickened their pace. Tor still wore his police uniform, his brow creased in worry.

“Cara.” Amber climbed up the stairs to the deck, face pale. One of the crew took their bags
, and Amber enveloped Cara in a hug with trembling arms. She stepped back and her gaze traveled over Cara’s face. “Honey, you look horrible. Are you okay?”

“
Just a little battered.” Cara motioned to the dock. “We need to keep an eye out for the rest of the group. They should be here any minute.”

“Are you sure Rolf is right about this?” Skepticism and worry etched new lines on Tor’s face. He
linked arms with his wife. “I just walked out of my job and Amber closed up her store.”

“But I did bring all my crystals as you asked.” Amber held up a black bag.

“I know, I know. I’m completely freaked out by this, but we’re doing the right thing. We have to get out of here.” Cara leaned against the rail. “We’ll have more time to talk later and you’ll get more information. For now, please trust me. Nothing is more important than us leaving.”

“There’s Shana,
Marc and Alistair.” Amber pointed to the dock.

“Come on,” Cara motioned. They
tread the gangplank to greet their friends.

“You’ve
got to be freaking kidding me,” Shana said as they approached. “I thought we were going on Rolf’s boat, not the Queen Mary.”

“It
appears to be a Trumpy,” Alistair said, clearly pleased. “Lovely vessel.”

Crew members
stepped forward to take their bags.

“Come inside.
” Cara led them into the salon, heart filled with sympathy for what they all must be experiencing with this confusing and abrupt departure from their lives. There wasn’t enough time to explain everything when she called them. She’d just asked them to trust her. It was a testimony to their friendship that they had walked out of jobs and away from their lives to follow her instructions. Hopefully, once all the information was laid out, they would understand.

“What’s
that?” Tor pointed to a lump of tan and silver fur in the crook of Alistair’s arm.

“Oh,
when Cara told us about how dogs can detect the BD’s and how useful Dusty has been, I decided to adopt a dog myself. A friend of mine was moving away and gave him to me yesterday.” He reached down and scratched the head that emerged. It was a tiny Yorkshire terrier. “This is Rambo.” The little dog yelped, its ears pointed into the air, intelligent brown eyes shining.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.
Rambo
?” Tor said. “Dude, how did he get a name like that?”

“
Er, I’m not sure. The owner said it fit him, though.” Alistair gazed at the dog and pursed his lips.

“That’s
not a dog, it’s a rat.” Shana sniffed.

“He’s not a
bloody rat.” Alistair raised his chin. “Yorkies are fearless rat killers, I’ll have you know.”

“Hey, he’s
kinda cute.” Marc walked over and scratched the little guy’s head. Marc’s cheeks flushed pink, and he looked rested for once.

T
he rest of Rolf’s men arrived and came inside to find their cabins and settle in. The deck vibrated beneath Cara’s feet as the engines rumbled to life. The crew bustled around outside, casting off lines and raising fenders.

Rolf joined them, climbing down the steps from the bridge. “Welcome, everyone. I apologize for the abrupt departure, but time is running out. We need to be
as far from shore as possible by tomorrow night.”

“Where are we going?”
Marc asked.

“To sea.
Straight out into the Atlantic,” Rolf replied. “As fast as the ship will carry us.” He turned to Cara, his gaze locking on hers. “Or we’ll all end up dead.”

Chapter Seventeen

“I would appreciate it if you’d mind your bloody feet and not step on my dog,” Alistair said to Shana as she crossed the salon for the fifth time. Rambo scurried away from the danger of Shana’s pacing to press against Alistair’s ankle.

“Well
, put a bloody bell on him or something so we’ll know where he is.” Shana strode back across the room.

Even though they all trust
ed Cara, Rolf knew it didn’t stifle their fear of the unknown. Time to give them more information.

Cara entered the salon from the other end where stairs led to the cabins below
. Dusty stayed by her side. Her gaze found Rolf’s at once, and her half-smile sent a thrill through him. He had to admit, despite her damaged face, he still found her beautiful—perhaps a product of her inner beauty, which became more apparent every day.

“Looks like everyone is here.”
Rolf advanced into the room and found a seat in a wing chair. He’d never had so many people dependent on him, and it filled him with unease. But no other alternative existed. He wouldn’t leave them for Desmond to turn into Takers.

Cara made
her way to the sofa, beside Amber. Dusty ambled over and sniffed at Rambo, but the little dog held his ground with a low-throated rumble. Dusty must have decided he was okay and went back to Cara, settling at her feet. Marc pulled Shana from her pacing to sit beside him on the loveseat.

“I hope
you’ve all made yourself comfortable. We’ll be together for some time, so consider this your home.” Rolf gestured around him. “I’ll fill you in on what we’ve discovered so you’ll know what we’re facing.” Rolf gave them the short version of what had been discovered and the history of Desmond. When he finished, no one spoke for several minutes, their expressions a mixture of fear and shock.

Cara
rose and walked to the bar. “Drinks anyone?” There were vigorous nods all around. Amber joined her and carried the glasses back to their friends.

Cara brought Rolf a glass of red wine
. Their fingers brushed in the exchange, and thoughts of Desmond vanished from his mind. Their gaze connected and he floated in the depths of her hazel eyes. How comfortable to lose himself there, to forget about Takers and danger. Reality snapped him back to his responsibility and he broke the contact.

“Do we know how far out we need to go to avoid the effects of this
Net?” Marc turned to Rolf.

Rolf refocused. “We can infer some general idea from the radius of cities they have targeted
. I hope to reach three-hundred miles from the coast by tomorrow night.”

“But we don’t know for sure.”
Tor let out a terse breath.

“No, but I do have some
ability to provide protection—and so does Cara.” Rolf glanced at her.

Cara
frowned. The others shared puzzled looks.

“Cara has a gift. She can withstand the attempts of anyone to take her Light. I also have this gift. I believe we can come up with a way to extend this shield to include others. It’s something we’ll be working on with
the utmost urgency.”

“
Emmie.” Amber turned to Cara. “That’s the gift.”

Cara nodded.

“We’ll get as far as we can. Hopefully, with the added protection of the shield, and the luck of the gods, we’ll be safe,” Rolf said.

“But
then what?” Tor asked, squeezing each fist to crack his knuckles. “Their plan is going to succeed. They’ll control a chunk of the east coast. How do we take it back?”

“If we
return to fight them, they’ll be able to identify us since our energy will still be at full strength. We’ll be sitting ducks.” Shana’s shoulders slumped.

“Plus, if they renew their hold on people by repeating
the Net at the end of each moon cycle, you’d be susceptible to that as well,” Rolf said. “We’ll have to find the source of their power and wipe it out to destroy the Net.”

“We’ll have to hide our energy if we go back.
” Alistair rubbed his chin. “If they can’t sense us, we’ll have the element of surprise.”

“Right.”
Rolf crossed his arms. “Did you bring the crystals, Amber?”

“I just got a shipment so there’s a good variety.
Wait, what about the crystal globe Cara told us about? She said you made it to block your energy so they can’t locate you.”