Storm of Visions (25 page)

J
acqueline woke to the sound of a knock on the bedroom door. Memories of the previous day rushed in; for a moment, she clung to Caleb, and he stroked her head. “Okay?” he whispered.

“Yes.” Except that her mother was dead, and Jacqueline couldn’t feel anything except anger. And she could hear something dripping, slowly, constantly, like a Chinese water torture. And she was scared. Scared as she had never been before.

But she knew Caleb was scared, too. Last night, when she’d told him about the devil, she’d seen it in his eyes. Somehow, knowing he believed her and understood the significance of the devil’s hand in their affairs made her feel . . . braver. More capable.

Because no matter what he felt, he did what had to be done, and she would do the same.

She watched Caleb get out of bed, walk over to the door, and ask, “Who is it?”

“Tyler Settles.”

The sound of Tyler’s warm voice relaxed Jacqueline, and Caleb must have felt the same way, for he opened the door a crack. “Yes?”

“Just wanted you two to know we’ve decided to have our first official Chosen Ones meeting this morning at nine in the library.”

“All right. We’ll be there.” Caleb shut the door and turned to look at Jacqueline. “You up for it?”

“Of course.” She threw back the covers. “Should we tell Irving?”

“About Osgood?” Caleb watched her with warm appreciation, as if he liked her in that too short, too wide white nightgown and the jiggling charm bracelet Charisma had given her. “Why didn’t you tell him in the first place?”

She shrugged her shoulders uncomfortably. “Because . . . because . . . this is an awful thing to say, but I don’t know if I trust Irving.”

“I don’t know if I do, either.”

Caleb’s sentiment surprised her—and comforted her. “I hate feeling this way,” she burst out, “but I don’t know who to trust at all.”

“Except me.”

Startled, she looked at him. “Of course. I’ve always trusted you.” She shut the bathroom door on his half smile.

Because of Caleb, she had clean clothes to wear, which was more than the other women could say, and she was showered, dressed, and ready to go in fifteen minutes. It took Caleb five. Her leather gloves had made their way back to her via McKenna’s obsessive management, so while Caleb was in the bathroom, she carefully pulled the right one over her bandage, then easily donned the left one. The gloves gave her a sense of security, a knowledge that her hands, her tattoo, and her injury were protected. Today, more than ever, it was a feeling she cherished.

She felt the same way about the bracelet Charisma had given her. She donned it not because she felt the stones would protect her, but because her friend had given it to her. Friendship provided a protection all its own.

Together, Caleb and Jacqueline walked down to the dining room. They picked up breakfast from the buffet and headed into the library.

“Ah, the two lovebirds.” Irving didn’t sound as if he approved.

Jacqueline didn’t care that everyone thought they were a couple. She didn’t care what Irving thought at all. Her suspicions of Irving had tainted everything she saw and touched and heard. It was a miserable way to live, but right now, she was stuck.

Maybe the meeting would help.

The Chosen Ones were dragging chairs into a circle in front of the window, and chatting desultorily about the weather, the comfort of their beds, how much weight they’d gained on the good cooking. Irving was already seated. Martha and McKenna bustled around, refilling coffee cups and offering tea and juice.

Only Caleb stood alone in one place in the middle of the room, observing . . . everything.

Jacqueline accepted a coffee cup, with thanks, and let Tyler place a chair for her.

He touched her shoulder. “How’s the hand?”

She looked at the leather glove. “Good. A little tender.” A lot tender, but she refused to take any more pain relievers. Today, she suspected, she would need her wits about her.

A small, round, antique mahogany table with ornate Chinese carvings on the face and legs had been positioned beside Irving. That damnable crystal ball had been placed in the middle on its carved wood base. As she seated herself, the globe inevitably drew her gaze, pulling her into the play of colors on its surface, and into the complex maze of visions it cradled deep within. The sound of dripping water grew louder in her head. . . .

Someone spoke right in her ear, startling her.

She jumped. Looked around.

Next to her, McKenna was filling Charisma’s coffee cup.

“What did you say?” Jacqueline asked.

McKenna glanced behind him, then back at her. “I didn’t say anything, miss.”

“Well . . . did you hear that?”

McKenna and Charisma looked at Jacqueline oddly, and McKenna said, “Hear what, miss?”

“Nothing.”
Just some dripping water and a disembodied voice.
“I thought I heard . . . My ears are still ringing from the concussion, I guess.” Searching the room, she found a silk throw tossed over the back of a chair. With elaborate casualness, she stood, walked over, picked it up and shook it out, then placed it over the crystal ball to hide it from sight.

Turning back to her chair, she discovered every eye was on her.

She smiled with carefree insouciance, and seated herself.

If she behaved with a little more circumspection, the men in the white coats would come to take her away.

“Could everyone be seated, please, so we can get started?” Tyler gestured in a circle.

There was the usual shuffling and coughing; then everyone looked at him expectantly.

“I called this meeting because I don’t believe we’re getting anything done sitting here waiting for doom to take us.” Jacqueline didn’t need a gift to know Tyler had assumed the leadership of the group.

Caleb interrupted. “Where is Samuel?”

She also didn’t need a crystal ball to know Caleb had disputed Tyler’s leadership.

Irving sighed deeply. “Yesterday, after Jacqueline’s vision, he left the house.”

“He hasn’t returned?” Caleb asked.

“He hasn’t returned,” Irving confirmed.

For a moment, anguish touched Isabelle’s face. Then her expression smoothed, and she was serene once more.

“Damn it. I’m going to search his room.” Caleb lifted his eyebrows at Jacqueline.

She nodded. She would be fine here with the others.

Caleb slipped out.

Tyler waited until Caleb was gone, then rapped on the table with his knuckles to reestablish his authority.

Personally, Jacqueline didn’t give him a lot of chance.

Tyler said, “With all due respect to Caleb, who is doing his best, and Irving, who is retired, it seems to me that hiding in this house is counterproductive. If the Others don’t know we’re alive, it would be best to get out there and do something to thwart their evil plans before they can be carried any further.”

“Their evil plans?” Aaron raised his eyebrows. “Is that what we’re calling them now?”

“With all due respect to you, Mr. Settles, you’re a faith healer. What makes you the expert on our next move?” Irving had obviously been stung by the
retired
comment.

“I ran a huge corporation based on my talents, Mr. Shea, and no one questioned my guidance.” Tyler was obviously stung in return.

“My family said to do exactly as Irving instructs, and in matters concerning the Chosen Ones, he’s the expert.” Aleksandr was young, but he spoke like a man, and one who knew his mind.

“But then, you’re a
student
,” Tyler said.

“
Exactly.
Which is why I listen to my
family
.” Obviously, Aleksandr wasn’t about to take trouble from anyone.

“What does Jacqueline think?” Charisma asked. “She’s our seer. She’s the one who’s proved herself.”

With that, everybody started talking at once. Arguing. Trying to make their views known.

Jacqueline looked wildly from one to another. “We’ve got to be calm. This is just the kind of chaos the Others want for us.”

Nobody was listening.

Then she noticed Tyler. As if something drew him toward the crystal ball, he leaned toward it and with an elaborate flourish, drew the silk throw away.

The globe shone with the colors that slipped across its surface, and he stared into its depths. He stretched out his hands to cup the globe between his palms, and froze.

One by one, the Chosen Ones noticed and fell silent.

“A vision?” Charisma murmured to Jacqueline.

“I don’t know,” Jacqueline whispered back. “It doesn’t look like one of my mother’s, but—”

With an unearthly cry, Tyler snatched the crystal ball off its stand and held it before him. His arms shook as if it weighed him down. With a surge, he came to his feet, and said, “He’s here.” He whispered the words, but they rolled through the room like thunder. “He’s here. He’s in New York City. He’s directing their operation himself. He knows our every move before we do it.”

Jacqueline swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry.

“Who is here?” Irving asked his question calmly, as if he’d directed many a vision.

“He’s middle-aged. Thin. Short. Unassuming. But he possesses a soul of pure evil, and when he looks at you . . .” Tyler suddenly turned his head, stared into Jacqueline’s eyes, and his voice swelled with power. “You saw him. You saw him on the plane. He saw you, too. How could you not tell us about the man with the blue flame in his eyes?”

Right away, Irving knew whom he meant.

So did Charisma and Isabelle.

Aleksandr tugged at his crewneck T-shirt. Of course. With his background, he knew, too.

Aaron muttered, “Shit,” so he’d been reading the Chosen Ones manual.

Everyone faced Jacqueline, accusation in their eyes.

But she didn’t owe anyone an explanation. Certainly not a man in a trance. “Go on, Tyler,” she instructed in a cool voice. “Tell us what else you see.”

“I see an explosion.” Tyler still held the globe at arm’s length, and he swung around in a circle. “An explosion, greater than the last one! Wiping out all remnants of the Chosen Ones, leaving only a legend that will soon fade from memory. . . .”

In a forgotten corner of the room, Martha stood against the wall. Now she gave a sob, then pressed her fist to her mouth.

Compelled by the drama, Jacqueline sat forward in her chair. “Where is this explosion?”

He halted, swaying, staring into space. His beautiful voice grew thick and harsh. “Here. The explosion is here. Before it’s too late, we’ve got to get out of Irving Shea’s house.”

He collapsed onto the antique flowered rug.

The globe slipped out of his grip, and everyone watched in fascination as it rolled toward Jacqueline, and came to rest at her feet.

Then the room burst out in a cacophony of voices.

One rose above the others. “Shut up!”

J
ust like that, the library was silent once more, and every eye turned to the door and Caleb.

“What in the hell is going on here?” He observed Tyler, struggling to sit up. Jacqueline, white-faced and frightened. Aaron, tight-lipped and furious. Charisma, holding her bracelets. Isabelle, thoughtfully watching her cohorts.

Tyler staggered to his feet and put his hands to his head. “What happened? What did I say?”

“He had a vision,” Isabelle told Caleb. “He says the devil is in New York City.”

“I don’t think there was ever any doubt about that,” Caleb responded.

As if he’d caught her by surprise with his humor, Isabelle smiled briefly. “True, but he’s talking about the real devil, the one who possesses and corrupts men’s souls.”

Oh, Caleb knew. So did Jacqueline.