Deadly Dozen: 12 Mysteries/Thrillers (180 page)

Fingers flashing with red lightning tendrils, he thrust them straight at her throat—

She grabbed his wrist with astonishing speed.

But what happened next was far more astonishing.

Lena
absorbed
his destructive energy: it discharged from him so rapidly and with such force he thought he might implode. Containing both of their destructive energies, her entire body glowed, changing from red to hot white, its light expanding.

From the glowing orb that encompassed them both, a beam blasted into the sky, piercing the clouds. A spiral fissure expanded.

Though the two of them remained outside the physical layers, the flash in the heavens and the ground-shaking explosion caused just about every human walking on the sidewalk or crossing the street to stop and look up.

From the center of the clouds, the fissure blew outward like a drop of oil dispersing in water. Crackling lightning encircled what resembled a nuclear mushroom cloud just above the planet’s atmosphere.

Screams of horror, gasps of bewilderment, fresh New York expletives. But just as quickly as it had happened, it all vanished.

“What did you just do?” Nick felt drained and more than a little frightened. “I…I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Breathing heavily, Lena, swung her face back down to him, allowing that glossy raven hair to fall into his face.

“Was it good for you, Nick?”

“How did you do that?”

She got up and pulled him to his feet.

“It’s a simple matter of focusing the destructive energy coming at you and channeling it through the spiritual layers of existence. Goes a lot further and faster that way.”

“But the mortals saw it.”

“Only after I released it in space. Oh, it might have disrupted a satellite or two, but nothing too serious.”

“You’ll have to teach me that one day.”

“Now that you’ve seen it and I’ve explained it, you’ll probably figure it out for yourself—if you’re as good as they say you are.”

“As who says?”

“Your files.”

How far back had she dug into his career? Shouldn’t his most recent demotion have overshadowed any good he’d done in the past?

“I suppose you already know about—”

“Enough about the past.” Lena snaked her arm around his. “Let’s get on with it. Ready for your briefing?”

“Your construct or mine?”

She turned to face him with the lethal beauty of her smile.

CHAPTER NINE

“INTERESTING CONSTRUCT,” NICK SAID, standing with Lena at the ledge of a skyscraper looking down on the city below.

“It’s not a construct,” Lena whispered in his ear.

As he gazed down on the people and cars and buses scurrying about, he felt a pounding in his chest, a clenching of his stomach—and cold moisture on his forehead.
Sweat.
That had never had happened before.

“You’re not afraid, are you? Who ever heard of an acrophobic angel? After all...” Lena touched his back. A pair of glistening wings unfurled behind him. He was so used to hiding this part of his physiology they almost shocked him.

With her fingertips, she brushed the edge of his wings and they vanished behind his construct again.

“I was starting to think you truly
had
been among the humans too long.”

“No more than your typical angel.” Nick swallowed—another human mannerism he’d picked up. How much did she know about his past? He thought he’d done a fairly decent job of remaining incognito in the last human century.

“Just an expression, Nick. You’re talking a lot like them, is all. Ready now?”

“Of course.” And he was—as long as he didn’t look down.

In an instant he found himself standing in an office inside the skyscraper with her. The office, judging by the layers of dust on the desk, had been unoccupied for months—perhaps years.

How much time had elapsed, just now? The sun no longer shone outside. Instead, moonlight infused the room with pallid light, enough of it on the desk to reveal dust undisturbed by Lena, who was sitting on it.

“Thought you enjoyed dramatic constructs,” she said.

“So long as they’re my own.”

“What’s with the nerves? I mean, you’re an angel, for heaven’s sakes.” Lena covered her smile. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“It’s...nothing.”

But it wasn’t. He’d never before perspired, never felt anxiety like that. Perhaps he
had
spent too much time with them.

“Are you done playing?” he said.

“Oh, all right.” She pointed to the wall, where a large whiteboard lit up like a hi-def TV set. The images of three people appeared onscreen.

One was a man in a navy blue suit with slick black hair, a red power necktie, and a smile so white it could blind you. The images were silent, as though someone had pushed a mute button, but the man was standing before a large auditorium, talking and gesturing and holding what appeared to be a Bible.

“Oh, great, a preacher,” Nick said. “You’d think more of them would believe in our existence.”

“You’d think.”

The second was a disheveled young woman wearing stained, ragged clothes who sat in a chair rocking back and forth in what appeared to be a homeless shelter. Her chair wasn’t a rocker, so her jerky movements in it seemed strange. Hard to tell what color her hair might have been if it were clean. She stared vacuously out the window, hugging her arms as she rocked, lips moving though nobody was there to listen to her. Looking at her, Nick felt a twinge he didn’t understand.

“What exactly am I supposed to—”

“Hold on, we’ll get to that.” Lena pointed to the third frame. A young man with dark hair, a coppery complexion, and perhaps the most troubled eyes Nick had ever seen in a mortal paced back and forth in a dark warehouse, shouting into his cell phone. Every now and then he pounded a wall with his fist as if punctuating a sentence.

“Your assignment is simple,” Lena said in an official tone. “These three are extremely dangerous. Each will have a hand at misguiding many thousands of people and in the process altering the future in disastrous ways. You will simply hasten them to the self-destructive ends they have chosen before they cause incalculable harm. ”

“Truly?” He looked them over, all three. “Except for the angry young man, the others seem harmless.”

“Looks are deceiving, you can never tell. Your assignment comes from this department’s top office. If you reach your targets on this one, you’ll get the promotion you’ve always wanted.”

“All right. Give me the specifics.”

Lena reached into her pocket and produced a shiny black smartphone. It looked like an iPhone but had no distinguishing markings.

“I’ve uploaded all the information you need here. Just tap the icon for any of your three subjects to open an entire portfolio. If you need anything—anything at all—call or text me. I’m on speed dial.”

“Wait. Call? Text?”

“Get with the times, Nikolai.”

“I won’t need this.”

“You have exactly two weeks to complete your task. We must prevent an event from occurring at Cabrillo Stadium in San Diego, California, an event that could mean a significant loss to our cause. Two of your assignments are preemptive in nature. But the most crucial element is to stop this event at all costs. Two weeks, Nick. Fourteen days.”

“That’s not a lot of time.”

“Which is why you begin immediately.” Her eyes brightened. “Oh, and by the way. How many other angels in your division—sorry, your
former
division—feel the same way you do?”

“About?”

“Unhappy about their work.”

“I don’t see how that matters.”

“It does to me. Do you know?”

“Look, I still have questions about my assignment. Let’s stay focused.”

Lena sighed. “So you’re not going to tell me about the other reapers.”

“I don’t know what they’re thinking. And truth be told, I don’t care.”

The intensity in her gaze softened. Like a cat, she leaned against his shoulder and ran her fingers down his arm. Nick stood there and let her do her thing. She was an odd one, to say the least. He didn’t know what to make of her.

“I’ve had my eye on you for some time now, Nick. You’re special, that’s why we called on you to join our division.”

“You didn’t call me, I came and applied.”

“That’s what everyone thinks, at first.”

“It was my decision. No one influenced me.”

“Come on, Nick. Are you going to tell me about the reapers?”

“I told you already, I don’t know.”

“And what about Tamara? She’d know, wouldn’t she?”

“Are you looking to recruit her?”

Lena only smiled.

Nick returned the smile. “And here I was thinking I was special.”

“Oh, but you are.”

She touched his face, and he reacted—he wasn’t quite sure exactly how, but it disturbed him. If nothing else it reminded him of the emotions mortals could feel.

“Nick, if I were to send you back, just to bring me some information...”

“Is this a requirement?”

Her shoulders slumped a bit. She moved away and leaned against the window.

“No, it’s not. It’s just that...well, you’re not the only one looking for a change. If you could help me with the information I need, I might be able to impress my supervisor enough for him to promote me.”

“Can’t you send a simple request via interoffice?”

“It’s never that simple,” she said, her voice a dejected whisper. Something about her drew his sympathy. But nothing shy of showing himself to Tamara would get Lena what she wanted. All the information was in Tamara’s office—her mind. Going back was not an option.

Not so soon, anyway.

Nick spoke softly into Lena’s hair, which smelled like roses.

“Why don’t we see how this assignment goes? Then we’ll talk about all this other business.”

Lena nodded. “Of course. Forgive me...I’m embarrassed.”

“Don’t be.”

“Desperation can make you do strange things.”

“Why is it so important?”

She shrugged and smiled, covering what he was sure was discouragement and a touch of annoyance.

“You’d best be off, Nick. You’ve got deadlines.”

“About that. You know, I still don’t—”

But she vanished before he could finish the sentence.

CHAPTER TEN

GETTING TO HIS FIRST ASSIGNMENT would have been instantaneous had Nick simply concentrated on the image of the subject’s face and teleported to Long Beach. But he’d developed a certain taste for flying—not the way humans did, crammed in the bowels of an aircraft like sardines in a tin—but by himself through the sky with the wind in his hair, clouds misting his face, and flocks of startled birds exploding in every direction as he flew invisibly through their squadron at speeds only theoretical to humans.

A trip from New York to Los Angeles took him six exhilarating minutes. He arrived just outside the Aquarium of the Pacific, where the midday sun called for T-shirts, shorts, and sunglasses. Not that anyone could see Nick, but he had them on too. He always blended in well just in case he had to interact with the humans.

A cool breeze blew gently against his neck, and for some reason the sensation seemed more tangible than usual. He rather enjoyed it. Taking in the warmth, the breeze, and the people—mothers and fathers with their children going into the aquarium and coming out—he further surprised himself by smiling. A refreshing change from the business of death, untimely or otherwise.

His smartphone chimed.

A text from Lena.

SUBJECT: Jonathan Hartwell, Long Beach, CA

ASSIGNMENT: Research routines, family, lifestyle.

Prevent subject from his daily studies and routines over the next two weeks.

Embedded in the text message was a photo of Hartwell, a good-looking bloke in his late thirties, dark brown hair, deep-set blue eyes, and the kind of smile that would make people want to talk with him about anything and everything over a cup of coffee. He looked as friendly and trustworthy as they came.

But Nick knew better.

He’d read the dossier.

The subject was a man of dangerous influence. Wildly popular in the media, invited often to the White House to open important meetings with prayer, a bestselling writer, popular talk-show guest. Unlike many a famous preacher before him, he was viewed by most Americans, believers or not, as a genuinely good person. But he would ultimately lead thousands astray, altering their future directly and even more indirectly.