Intuition: The Premonition Series (52 page)

“What do you think they will be wearing in there, sweetie, jeans and t-shirts?” she ask wearily. “They are divine angels in a place where they are allowed to be themselves. Some of them won’t be wearing anything at all, I guarantee it.”

“So, I’ll be overdressed?” I ask, and when the visual of what I’m walking into hits me, a blush creeps up my body and I have to look down to avoid eye contact. I haven’t thought about any of this and now it’s making my hands sweat.

“Don’t worry, they have been on Earth a really long time. Most of them will be wearing something—sarongs probably,” she says, and then she shakes her head at me. “If you can’t handle that part of it, then we are in huge trouble.”

“I can handle it,” I snap at her, and she backs off.

“You are still bleeding,” Buns says as blood drips down my neck. The golden collar hides my wound now. I fold up a tissue, pushing it under the collar to stop the blood from showing.

“It’s fine,” I say, avoiding the skeptical look she gives me.

I don’t say anything when she adorns me with thick gold cuffs around my upper arms and ankles. She works on my hair next, pulling some of the strands from the front and weaving them into a halo around my head to meet in the back, securing it with a gold clip while letting the rest of the length flow down my back. When she touches my face to brush a wisp of hair back from it, she pauses, and then places her hand on my forehead with a frown, “Sweetie, you feel hot… you have a fever.”

“I think it’s just residual effects from being bitten,” I reply, trying to shrug it off. I don’t want her to know I’m beginning to feel worse because I need her help, and if she thinks I’m sick, she may change her mind. I manage to placate her as she applies a minimal amount of make-up to me.

Buns steps back and looks at her handiwork. “That’s it, now you have to figure out how to use the weapons I have given you,” she says with a sad smile. “You should try to eat something before we get there. It shouldn’t take more than an hour. I haven’t told them that we’re coming, so they are going to be hostile when I land the plane on their airstrip,” she says in a very serious tone.

“Good. I bet they haven’t had a good fight in a while and this will definitely break them out of their boredom. They can’t resist a challenge,” I reply.

“Sweetie, you have changed,” Buns says, looking at me close. “You aren’t the same girl I met a couple of semesters ago.”

“So much has happened since then. We should go,” I reply, because I don’t want to think about all of the things that have happened since I believed myself to be just human.

She nods and we go together to the front of the plane. Buns prepares everything for take off and I sit in the seat next to her as she talks to the tower. She taxis the plane and we wait an eternity on the runway for the tower to give us the green light to take the plane into the air.

Once we are in the air, I leave Buns to fly the plane as I try to eat something, but the most I can manage is a dry croissant and some water. It tastes like dust in my mouth. I wonder if I will ever be able to eat anything normal again after being bitten by Brennus. The thought of him sends a shockwave of fear through me. The terror I feel at ever seeing him again makes the fear that I’m facing now seem small in comparison. The worst that the Powers can do to me is kill me, but Brennus can torture me, and then make me an undead creature—and his lover. Goose bumps cover me from head to toe and a shiver runs down my spine at the prospect.

I go back to the cockpit in time to hear Buns talking to someone on the radio. The voice is speaking French, and judging by the sternness of his voice, he isn’t too pleased with whatever she had said to him. She pulls the microphone back from her mouth and covers it. “They are telling me I can’t land on their airstrip,” she says, watching me close.

“Tell them that you have something for them, something they have been hunting for and tell them in Angel,” I say. Buns’s face changes. She looks afraid. I know that she is thinking that the moment she tells them that, there will be no going back. She will be essentially sealing my fate.

“Sweetie…”

“Do it,” I urge, putting my hand on her shoulder and squeezing it. “And, if they still won’t let you, tell them you have the Nephilim they have been searching for.”

Buns, turning white, pulls her hand back from the microphone and begins to speak into it in Angel. When she finishes, there is silence on the other end of the radio. We wait for several minutes before the voice returns to bark out commands to Buns.

“They are ordering us to land the plane on their airstrip now,” she says in irritation as she looks at me. Just the expression on her face makes me see what she thinks of their arrogance and I can’t help smiling at her.

“If I ever get like that, Buns, you have my permission to shoot me,” I say wryly.

“No problem,” she replies, taking off her headset and giving it her middle finger.

We circle the landing field once and the altimeter bobs from one side of the horizon line to the other as Buns brings the plane in for a rather rough landing. She gives me the “oops, sorry” look. I shrug because we made it in one piece. Stopping the plane at the end of the runway, she looks at me with indecision because no one has told us what to do once we land.

“Do you think they’ll think this is an ambush?” I ask.

“Probably, they are really paranoid, but I guess it wouldn’t be a very good strategy to just come waltzing up to a plane when you have no idea what it could contain,” she says grudgingly.

“I should probably go then. I don’t want them storming in here like a freakin’ SWAT team. Can you open the door for me?” I ask. I see anxiety in her eyes. “It’s going to be all right—you should have Zee back soon and you two can go to his island together,” I say, trying to sound hopeful.

“Do you feel him, sweetie?” she asks. I know she is asking me if I can feel the butterflies that Reed always gives me when he is near.

“No, but we’re still kind of far from the building,” I say, shaking my head.

I look through the windshield of the plane, seeing the sprawling estate ahead of us down a grassy hill on the edge of the water. The sun is going down now. The water is reflecting the light like diamonds as it surrounds the brownstone chateau on three sides. Brownstone turrets, topped with beautiful terracotta tiles, push their way toward the heavens. Dark, overcast clouds, hanging heavily over the chateau, are being offset by the bright orange glow from the setting sun on the water. It’s causing the silhouette of the massive building to glow like the supernatural beings it houses.

The building looks like it could have come right out of the Italian Renaissance period. The watermarks on the stones remind me of pictures I have seen of Venetian buildings along the canals that show the changing water levels over the passage of time. I don’t know why this is the furthest thing from what I expected their headquarters to look like. I think I was expecting a much more military looking outpost, but then, it’s sort of a castle, which is a military fortress by it’s very design, so I shouldn’t be at all surprised.

Buns rises and I walk with her to the door of the plane. She opens the door and lets down the stairs so that I can debark. “I’ll go with you, sweetie,” Buns says, but I shake my head.

“No, stay here. Make sure you are ready to leave at any moment, just in case you have to get out of here in a hurry,” I say. I hug her because I can’t wait any longer. “Thank you for everything, Buns.”

“You have to come back, sweetie. If you see Zee, tell him I miss him,” she says, squeezing me tight.

“I will,” I say, and turning, I step off the plane alone. Facing the Chateau de Pompous Power Angels, I square my shoulders and I walk steadily toward the massive building. The breeze coming off the water is stirring the feathers of my crimson wings. I wish futilely that my wings would work so that I could use them for this mission, but when I try to move them, I succeed only in spreading them out a little.

The scent coming off the water is seductive; it reminds me of Arden Lake in Crestwood with the sun just setting on it like two lovers reuniting after a long day apart. I have to force myself to walk slowly toward it and the chateau. I need to give the angels enough time to assess that I’m not armed and that I have come to them alone, but everything in me is urging me to rush as fast as I can to find Reed and Zephyr.

After walking down the grassy hill, I travel along a cobbled pathway that leads to several sets of windswept stone steps. The steps climb sharply toward the massive structure in front of me. I pause at the last set of stone stairs that lead up to the wooden doors. Before I put my foot on the steps, I realize that twenty or more hostile-looking Powers surround me. They appear soundlessly without my detection. The hair on my arms rises when I hear several low growls, and for some reason, I don’t think they are telling me that they love me. I think that maybe I should say something, but I’m at a loss as to what I should say. “Take me to your leader” sounds too stupid to say out loud so I improvise.

“Hi. I’m here to see Pagan. Can you let her know I’m here? I don’t have an appointment, but I feel fairly sure she will see me,” I say as I let them hear the sarcasm in my voice. I’m here to pick a fight, might as well start now. “Just tell her the Nephilim is here to see her.”

CHAPTER 16

The Chateau

Just because I’m at a loss for what I should do next, the Power angels, who are surrounding me on the steps of the Chateau, don’t suffer from the same problem. Several of them are barking orders to me in Angel, which of course I don’t understand. I stand there for a few moments, trying to figure out what they want me to do, but then I give up and say, “I’m sorry, I don’t speak your language. I only know English, well some Latin and Spanish, but I’m really not in the mood to try to figure out what you are saying, so, does anyone speak English?”

A towering Power with pale, blond hair says, “Come this way. If you attempt to escape, we will end you.”

“Sounds fair,” I reply coolly.

This silver-haired Power seems to be their leader. He has wings just like Zee’s; they are a soft, light brown. Since he is wearing the sarong that Buns warned me about, his wings seem even more impressive for the lack of attire. I push my shoulders back and face the front doors. I’m trying really hard not to let my heartbeat kick up a notch because I can’t let them know that I’m afraid. If they know that, they might crush me and I can’t let them kill me, yet. They have to see that there was a gray area to Reed and Zee helping me. After that, they can do whatever they want with me.

We reach the top of the stairs and I walk ahead of most of them into the Chateau. I almost stumble when the strong sense of déjà vu hits me. As I gaze around, I find that I’m in the Renaissance reception area from the dream I had while at the resort with Reed.
This is the place. The crystal chandeliers are just as I had been shown,
I think. There are intricate marble floors with inlayed designs and richly woven carpets of reds and gold that match the gilded framed artwork and mirrors that cover the beautiful plaster walls.

The angels around me are just like the waspish angels from my dream—a room full of killers, who by my very presence, are stirred up and ready to cut me down at any sign of disobedience from me.
Nice,
I think with sarcasm.

All eyes follow me as I walk into the center of the room, waiting next to the silver-haired angel who pauses to speak to a group of other intensely threatening divine beings. Their eyes are boring into mine, daring me to make a move. I stare back at them because I can’t show them weakness if I intend to help Reed and Zephyr. Anger and fear are almost overwhelming me as I think of Reed being held by these condescending soldiers who have already judged me as being evil.

In an attempt to look unafraid, I scan the room, pretending to be like them, even though I have no idea what they are like when they are together as a unit. When we don’t move for several minutes, I begin to get more irritated because I need to start gathering information and no one is talking to me or talking in a language I can comprehend.

“Excuse me,” I say to the tall, silver-haired angel in charge. “What is your name?” I ask him politely. He glares at me for a moment before he promptly ignores me.

Oh, so it’s like that, is it? Can’t talk to the evil, half-breed,
I think as I watch him pretend to ignore me.
I should make it harder for him to see me as an object. I need to be seen in a different light, one that makes me seem more normal, less evil.
I chew my lower lip, trying to think of a way to do that.

“My name is Genevieve,” I say, and something flickers in his eyes. “Will Pagan be coming soon?” I ask, trying to get something out of him so that I can begin to plan what to do next.

He continues to ignore me, so I ignore him, turning to face the angel who is standing on my other side. This one has blond hair as well, but much darker tones and his wings are light gray and they are shorter than the others are. Maybe that means he is younger than the rest of them.

“Hi,” I smile at him, seeing his startled expression. He hadn’t expected me to speak to him. “My name is Genevieve. What’s yours?” Immediately, a vise-like grip clamps on my upper arm.

The silver-haired Power grabs me ruthlessly. He leans near my face and says between his teeth, “You will not speak unless you are spoken to.”