GS Chapter 5

 

Chapter Five

Monday, December 17^th

“Ellie, you’re scaring me. Is everything okay? Why are you acting like you’re not coming back?” Gina wasn’t buying her lies. Her frown said it all.

“It’s nothing. Really. I just need to take a break to find myself.” That was the truth. “I’ll be in touch.” She gave her suspicious friend a hug.

Gina tightened her embrace. “Whatever you’re up to, be careful.” She whispered in her ear. “I can’t lose my best friend.”

Over the years, they’d become more than colleagues. Gina was a true friend and possibly the only one who got her. She was also about to make her cry.

“Listen, actually… I do need to ask you something.” Ellie said hesitantly, not sure how Gina would react to her last minute request. “Could you house sit for me while I’m away?” She had a feeling that Gina would welcome some space from her roommates.

The frown eased just a little from her pretty face. “Yeah, sure… anything.” Exchanging one last hug, Gina’s mood remained sullen, but supportive.

She was going to be walking away from a life that had kept her functional and going into another, riding shotgun in a black luxury sedan, to a world that seemed too fantastical and crazy, yet she believed it all.

****

Josh’s friendly face was a ray of sunshine, his easy demeanor and sunny personality worked like a natural tranquilizer to her excited nerves.

Ellie watched the young man load her bags into the trunk of the car, his thick, curly chunks of hair springing down his forehead whenever he stooped to grab a bag. She found it completely sweet and endearing. “Can I help?” She didn’t feel right, just sitting there watching him work.

He refused.

She watched him work with more interest. Josh was young, but she could see years of wisdom behind his youthful eyes. They were clear with the knowledge of who he was and his purpose in this life. He seemed so grounded and so unlike many of her students.

He must have felt her staring and looked up with a smile.

Anakim men were gorgeous. At least the three that she’d met so far -- tall, handsome, built. God’s gifts, she mused to herself as Josh escorted her to the passenger side seat in the lux sedan.

Going back to the estate, Josh took a much slower pace. He seemed determined to point things out -- landmarks nestled within the healthy, shrubberies of the forest floor. “It’s important you know where these are, Miss Elysa.”

The landmarks seemed so obvious as Josh pointed them out and she wondered how she missed them before. One in particular was a simple white orb resting atop a pedestal. The orb’s surface was smooth and polished like marble stone, but had a translucency and a certain clarity that was unlike any marble stone she’d seen before. In certain angles, when the pedestal was lost from her sight, the orb appeared to float in midair; the stone’s veining almost looking like lightning strikes inside the orb.

“That ball is a good one to remember. It’s really powerful. There are others around the property.” Josh noticed her interest.

“What are they for?”

“Some are shields, some are totems. That one you just spotted is an amplifier. It increases the strength of our shields.” He slowed as he came upon a bend.

Ellie looked outside again, enjoying the passing scenery. The woods felt majestic, the trees around the property of old growth. The light dimmed momentarily as they passed under a thick canopy of leaves and the sound of a raven’s call echoed from the treetops. She looked up and glimpsed the swaying of branches as the silhouette of a large black bird flew across the sky.

That’s one big crow, she mused as she caught motion from the corner of her eye. Turning her gaze to her periphery, she saw a figure of a man standing near a giant redwood.

Uncertainty crinkled her brows.

Ellie twisted her body, wringing her waist to get a good look at the tree passing quickly behind them as the car glided forward. She cocked her head as shadows bounced off the tree, but no man.

“Josh? Do you have statues around the property?”

“Yeah, lots. Why?” Josh sounded curious about her question, like he would be ready to give her a tour.

“I just… I thought I saw someone standing over there, but when I looked again, I…”

“I don’t remember any statues out here, but there are some cool ones in one of the gardens. I can show you, if you want.” He sounded excited about the prospect of a tour.

Ellie felt the car slowing to a stop.

“We’re here, Miss Elysa.”

They reached the ornate silver gate leading to the estate’s driveway. The gate sparkled in the sun, the fine filigreed swirls catching the daylight perfectly. Ellie marveled at the beauty of the place, feeling its splendor greet her. The place was magical and one of those places that should have been bequeathed a name.

Isabel was waiting for her outside the main entrance, her face bright and warm with the full smile of an expectant host. “Welcome, Elysa. We are truly thrilled to have you with us.” Isabel led Ellie inside the foyer. The half circle room had been expertly decorated in holiday trimmings. Greens, reds, and golds that could easily look cheap and tacky, were skillfully arranged in wondrous, festive designs, she half expected little cherubs to descend from the ceiling.

“It’s so beautiful, Isabel. It looks amazing in here.”

Isabel nodded in acknowledgement, pride shining behind the wise brown eyes. “You’ve come just in time. Tomorrow, we are having a party to celebrate. It will give you a chance to meet the rest of the household.” Isabel was giving her a rundown of tomorrow’s schedule, as they reached the second story landing. “I’ve prepared your room from your last visit.” She turned the glass knob, the door quietly pivoting on its hinges. “Since you will be staying with us for a time, I thought you might enjoy having some additional things in your room. There’s a small bookshelf by the window. Feel free to go to the library and get any book you wish to fill your shelf. I’ve also had a writing table brought up for you. You’ll find a television inside the armoire, as well as a laptop, and the bathroom has been stocked with various toiletries that you might need.”

Overwhelm was starting to creep up on her, the reality of her situation staring her in the face. “Thank you. This looks perfect.” Her throat felt dry as her heart beat furiously.

“Do you remember where the kitchen is?” Isabel gave her a reassuring smile. “We’re having an early supper tonight. Be ready in an hour?”

Ellie nodded. “I’ll be there.” She looked around her luxurious surroundings, her heart still beating like she was running a race. She breathed deeply, attempting to calm herself. “This will be home for the next few months.” She went to the bedside table and placed a picture of her mom holding her when she was just a toddler. This was Ellie’s favorite. Her mom was sitting on the wooden deck of their boat, her arms completely wrapped around her as they both smiled for the camera.

Her mother looked radiant and happy, not a care in the world, but for the little girl in her arms. Her mom was a natural beauty. Her expressive eyes beautifully shaped by her mixed heritage. Hazel eyes that many have said are just like hers. “Love you.”

The hour passed quickly as she reacquainted herself with the room. Her bags, as if by magic, had been brought up, while she explored the large en-suite bath. She chuckled, wondering if this was how Harry Potter felt during his first night at Hogwarts.

After unpacking and realizing what time it was, she was already fifteen minutes late for dinner. Crap! She hated to keep people waiting.

In her rush, she ran down the stairs, slid into the kitchen, and into a bevy of activity. Josh spotted her right away and waved her in. His happy face towering over several heads in the kitchen. “Sorry, Miss Elysa. We’re running a little late.”

She smiled, amused. Teens filled the room. They couldn’t have been older than Josh, some looked younger, but all of them working in concert to fix dinner. Josh and his bouncing curls was the runner between each group, providing them with whatever was needed to finish the recipe being worked on.

Ellie chuckled. Josh’s exuberance was great to watch. He didn’t miss a step in between the groups. “Can I help?” She didn’t like just sitting around.

“Noooo. We are totally good. Almost done, in fact.” Josh beamed proudly. “Just have a seat and relax. We got this.” He pulled out a bar stool resting underneath one of the counters and flamboyantly curtsied to her before gesturing for her to sit.

Ellie suppressed a laugh as Josh was met by a flying dishrag from one of the teens.

Isabel came in shortly after Ellie and coordinated the last phases of dinner preparation. Soon, everyone was gathered at a farm-style dining table decorated with fresh cut flowers and the sumptuous meal that the teens had prepared.

Isabel asked Ellie to sit next to her. Once everyone settled down, Isabel made the introductions. The twins, Tess and Theresa, prepared the salad. Joy and Ryan set the table. And, finally, the chefs’ du-jour were Julian, James, and Nel.

Each teen beamed at Ellie, their liveliness glowing with innocence and enthusiasm, the freshness of their faces reflective of a life full of happiness and belonging. She swallowed at the pang she felt pinching her heart and the absence of those qualities in her own life lately.

****

Jarron spent most of the day at the manor’s underground facilities --“Haven.”

Haven was a network of underground rooms connected by a system of tunnels spread out between three levels. Haven was the heart of Guardian operations, wired with multiple layers of security, both techno and magick. This was where the Guardians spent most of their time when they were in the compound.

He’d been feeling a lot better, but the Healers still had him grounded from field work. The inactivity was making him twitchy, moody. He needed to be out with his team, not stuck in bed. If he couldn’t be out with them, he could at least help keep an eye out on things.

The heavy glass doors of Control, hissed open. Control’s main operator Sirius, was at his usual station, leisurely reclined, feet up on the desk, watching a wall of monitors. Looks were certainly deceiving. The Guardians’ in-house tech genius looked as if he was doing nothing, but Jarron knew better. Sirius was gifted in all things electronic. He connected with tech data the same way Jarron connected with physical energy, which meant the ever watchful golden eyes of his brethren were never at rest.

Sirius waved in greeting without turning away from his work. He was busy clacking away at a keyboard balancing on his abdomen.

“What have I missed?” Jarron asked.

Sirius was shaking his head as he straightened in his chair, letting his long legs drop, his boots landing squarely on the floor. “You really want to know?”

Sirius pointed to a screen where he wanted Jarron to focus. “Look there.”

A surveillance video came on. The clip was from one of the commercial ports off of the Embarcadero. The video was mute, grainy, and stalled every few seconds. The images were hard to discern for detail, but good enough to watch for activity. Four men were milling around -- smoking. They were wearing hard hats and safety vests over a company uniform. The men clearly worked at the port and were probably on a break.

“Keep looking at the big guy in the middle.” Sirius directed.

Jarron leaned forward to get a closer look at the screen. Big Guy dropped his cigarette on the ground and squashed it with his boot. He seemed to be getting ready to leave, when suddenly, he collapsed. The other workers immediately rushed to help him. Two men knelt next to the collapsed man, their backs to the camera. The third man stood on the other side, talking frantically into his cell phone.

“Heart attack?”

“Waaait for it… There! See it?!” Sirius blurted out.

“Play it back.”

Sirius played it back. Big Guy was coming to, shaking his head as his friends tried to help him to his feet. He must have been woozy, his friends still supporting him on either side, as he staggered to find his balance. Big Guy looked up, his eyes caught by the camera.

Jarron bristled, his spine pitching straight.

Big Guy’s eyes glowed. It was only for a second, but the flash of white was enough to make him want to take out his blades. “What was that? Some sort of reflection?” He was hoping for another explanation besides the one that was tightening his gut.

“I’ve been running diagnostics on the video to check for any possible glitches. Everything is negative. I looked at the light sources in that area, too. All the lights are pointing down. A slight bounce back into his eyes could cause a small light reflection, but they wouldn’t make that guy’s eyes glow like that. I even thought it was a sort of red-eye effect.” Sirius was shaking his head. “That ain’t it, either. His eyes were completely lit.”

“Demon.” Jarron grit, voice low.

“It’s got to be. The glow was a short burst, but intense. Isolated to the guy’s eye sockets. No external sources.”

“Do we have information on him?”

“Yeah, ran it first thing this morning. Nothing out of the ordinary. Name is Clyde Winsdale. Been working at the port for the last twenty years. Lives out in Suisun. No family. No criminal record whatsoever. He’s clean.”

“When was the video taken?” Jarron stared at the man frozen in the frame.

“Late last night.”

“Do we have any other information?”

“Not yet. Caleb and his unit went out this morning to poke around. They’re not back yet.”

Jarron’s brows crooked at the news. It was getting late in the afternoon. It wouldn’t have taken that long to get to Suisun. “They haven’t checked in?”

“Listen, Jay. That’s not all. There have been other occurrences all over the city. People collapsing for no reason, getting up as if nothing happened, then…” Sirius was hesitating, his golden eyes going dark, like a sky goes dark before a storm.

“They’re gone. Disappeared. Vanished. Poof. Every single person that we’ve tracked who has suffered this same non-explainable collapse has gone missing.”

“How many?”

“Eight.”

“What about the eyes? All the same with the others?”

“Mr. Winsdale is the first we’ve captured on film with the glowing eyes. The others might have had it, too.” Sirius shrugged. “On the other films, the subjects were blocked from view. There was no way to tell.”

Jarron’s mood was getting worse by the second. “Where’s my team?”

“They’ve been dispatched to Golden Gate Park. Maya’s been given the lead in your absence.”

Frustration was nearing anger, finger tips threatening to punch through the leather of Sirius’ chair. He should have been out there. He’d trained Maya himself. She was capable. But this was his duty. His team. His responsibility. Their safe return was his priority.

“Recon.” Sirius continued. “Lots of weird reports coming in about sulfuric smells and low-hanging black clouds.”

He wanted to slash at something. “What about the other teams?”

“Kingston and Thorne are not back from Chicago, but they should be coming in on the red-eye tonight. Kash and his group are still in Reno. Same ETA… hopefully.”

“Where’s the data?”

“Over there on the conference table. I was compiling some information last night to run schematics this morning. I haven’t had a chance to go through it yet.”

He sat in one of the high-backed leather chairs circling the large mahogany table and began studying the information Sirius had pulled together -- eight occurrences, including Mr. Winsdale… five males, three females of varied ethnicities. Interestingly, each one appeared to have no family, each of the eight held important positions in their jobs. One was a vice-president, another was a CEO of a small start-up company, another was a senior partner in a law firm. The credentials went on and on, including charity work for highly credible organizations. For all intents and purposes, all eight seemed to be good, hard-working people.

The first seven had been reported missing by co-workers, citing that it would be out of character for each not to call and not to show up, especially given their positions within the companies. All seven went M.I.A. right after the shadow beast appeared at the club.

“Run more data.” He ordered.

“Sure thing. What’re you thinking?”

“Pull the locations where the Watchers have reported activity this week. Look for patterns -- any kind.”

“You got an idea about this?”

“I don’t know yet. I need more information. We gotta start digging. Get me more info on the victims.”

Sirius was studying him, the storm in his eyes still dimming the gold that always reminded him of an ancient shield -- polished gold, worn by the wares of war.

“I’ll get right on it.”

“I’m going to the armory. I’ll be back.” He set down the paper he’d been holding, one side had bent and crumpled under his stressed grip.

“Take your time. You look like you’re itching for action.” Sirius threw Jarron a teasing waggle of his brows and went back to clacking on his keyboard.

Jarron was a master at manipulating energy and bending it to his will, but he had to admit that he’d never been interested in using energy for healing. He relied on the Healers for that. Now, things were different.

With his insistence, the Healers agreed to teach him how to center his energy and use it for healing. They warned him to take things slow, to gain an understanding of the flow of life and universal energies, and the balance needed between each force to thrive. Once he understood these forces, he could use the energies to heal his body gently and to allow nature to do her work.

The tinctures the Healers had given him had done their job in ridding his body of the beast’s toxin, but his physical injuries were healing too slowly. He wasn’t about to let nature flow gradually. He didn’t have time for gradual. He fully intended to speed things up and get himself out of being grounded.

For every minute he had, he used what he learned to heal himself. He focused his energies to visualize his right arm healing. Every sinew, every fiber, every vessel that was shredded, he reconstructed back to being whole and complete. He did the same for his broken left shoulder, his broken ribs, and the lacerations he’d sustained from the demon’s claws. He doubted that was what the Healers had in mind, but in just a week’s time, he accomplished what would’ve taken a couple of months to heal on its own.

He still felt residual pain, but it was nothing that would slow him down. He was ready to test his body. He felt his muscles aching for activity. If he could prove to the Healers that he was fine, he could be released back to fieldwork.

The armory was a level below the Control Room. He walked in; the distinct smell of gunmetal and cleaning solvents a welcome assault on his senses, the acrid chemically smells reminding him of his purpose. Fluorescent lights flickered on, following his path, as he trudged deeper into the weapons vault and toward the section that housed the scepters.

Each blade had a specific use and purpose, depending on the kind of assault needed for battle. He stopped in the center of the room, eyeing the various swords, knives, daggers, and throwing blades that hung on the wall. He admired the simplicity of the weapon. A knife or a sword was nothing more than a sharpened metal edge affixed to a handle, but that’s where simplicity ended and creativity began. Those edges could curve, be straight, be one-sided or double-edged. The blade could be long, short, thick, thin, or jagged. The modifications could go on and on.

He preferred the feel of a sword or a knife in his hand. He appreciated the traditions, knowledge, and skills harnessed and poured into the shaping of the metal to melt it, bend it, and solidify it -- to make it strong, but not brittle. It was a craft that took focus, dedication, and time.

With just a touch, he would know if a blade would do well in his hand. In close combat, the agility of a blade was unmatched; graceful, fluid and yet unyielding in its purpose.

Taking down a broadsword from the wall, he leaned his head to side, examining the subtle slope of the blade that peaked into the fuller and thinned to razor sharp edges. The ancient sword, a general’s steel gleamed in preserved perfection. The grip bore the sigil of Great Angel Michael, a symbol resembling sword strokes designed to take down an opponent quickly and efficiently.

He swung the blade, slashing arcs on either side of his body. The blade making a whooshing sound as it swept near his sides. Jarron drew out Michael’s sigil, tracing the long, lethal strokes that would deliver a swift death to an enemy. The sword came alive in his hand, its humming getting stronger with each swing he took to complete the sigil’s form.

He could feel his energy rising and swirling, his hands warming and tingling as he went deeper into formations, challenging his muscles to work hard to lead the blade in a deadly dance. The current of the universe was going through him, energizing each movement with power. The pain was gone, the ache in his joints, no more. Only vibrant energy remained, waking his muscles, revitalizing his systems with the strength and power of his element -- fire.

This was exactly what he needed and the final phase of his healing process.

****

Caleb returned with his team from Suisun during the early evening hours. They’d gone to Winsdale’s house, only to find he was already gone. The inside of the home was ransacked and Winsdale’s car was missing. They left before any nosy neighbors could start to get too curious and call the police.

But, they couldn’t leave without any information. Something about Winsdale had to be important. Next stop was the port to talk with his co-workers and hopefully those same men in the surveillance video.

Winsdale was a well-liked guy, a staple at the company, and someone who everyone could count on. The other men in the video confirmed the incident from last night and reported that Winsdale was fine afterwards and finished out his shift. He was quieter, but given what had happened earlier, it seemed understandable. They saw him leaving that morning and that was the last they’d seen or heard from him. They hadn’t really figured anything was wrong and were expecting him to report for duty that night.

Caleb’s head was throbbing by the time they got back to the estate. He hated coming up empty. He would have preferred to take a small break, but there was no time for rest. He hadn’t been able to shake the ominous feeling riding his gut since the night of the club. Things were changing.

“Jarron asked me to pull some reports.” Sirius called over his shoulder the moment he stepped pass the automatic glass doors of Control.

“Where is he?” Caleb asked, not surprised that Jarron would be up and about.

“In the armory.” Sirius said over his shoulder. “He’s been in there for hours.”

Caleb stalked down to Level 2 to find Jarron in the gym, beating a speed bag. “What’d that bag ever do to you?”

Jarron smirked, but ignored him. The tear shaped bag beat against his friend’s fists at a steady pace -- making a rat-a-tat sound that almost sounded like a drum.

“What’s on your mind?” Jarron’s visual focus was on the bag, but his mind was busy, Caleb couldn’t help but see the erratic thoughts coming off his mind. He tried to block it out. It was aggravating his headache.

“Sirius told me about the disappearances…” Jarron caught his breath, “all this week.” He stopped the bag, holding on to it with taped hands, sweat dripping into his face. “What’d you find out about Winsdale?”

“Nothing. He was gone. The house was torn up and the car was gone. We missed him.” Frustration was making him clench his jaw.

“Anything in the house?”

“Looked like there was a struggle. All sorts of things broken, tossed around. There was no blood and all the valuables were still in place.” Caleb raised his sight from the floor, his brows knotting in question. “Water. There was water inside the house. Not a lot; small pools here and there. I noticed it on the kitchen floor and in the living room, like someone had walked around with a leaky cup or something. I don’t know. At the time, something about it struck me as odd…”

Jarron stood straight, crossing his arms over a sweaty chest. “You don’t think so anymore?”

“I don’t know. I feel like there’s something right there. Right at the edge of my thoughts, but I can’t get it out. There was something…” He hissed, his temples were throbbing into his eye sockets. He breathed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping to relieve some pressure. “It’s all foggy now.”

His gift allowed him to recall things with absolute clarity. He had a connection with the mind and its working that allowed him total control over the elusive and mysterious organ. For him to feel foggy was a problem and he could see that Jarron thought so too.

Having grown up as brothers, Jarron knew him too well. He, out of anybody, would know “foggy” was not in his vernacular.

“You’re not okay.” Jarron was starting to move toward him, his energy radiating and piercing into his own. His white light bloomed for a moment and shrunk back in, an instantaneous pulse that was enough to read him.

“Stop.” He snapped. “Back off. Don’t try to read me, alright.”

Jarron pulled back, his energy receding on command. He was scowling at him. “You look like shit.”

Caleb frowned. “I haven’t been sleeping lately.” He yawned to emphasize his point. He deflated, his shoulders sagging. He was tired, exhausted actually, the lack of sleep making him edgy. Jarron on the other hand looked fresh and ready to kick someone’s ass; could be his, if he didn’t ease up. “I just need my beauty sleep.” He joked to ease some tension. “You ready to go back to Control? I want to talk with Sirius.”

Jarron nodded, keeping his sight locked on his head.

Sirius was still busy retrieving information from his network’s database. The in-house genius could hack into any program. There were no such things as digital firewalls in Sirius’ world. The tech genius’ ability to break into anything digital, analog, hybrid or patched has given The Order an advantage -- a weapon.

Having the right set of information was a weapon.

Sirius was groaning and rubbing his forehead. He blew, puffing his cheeks until they were swollen with air. Sliding between monitors, he balanced the keyboard on his lap, stopping to clack data in. Lines of data appeared on the screens. He followed every line, his sight trained on the blinking green square marking his last keystroke.

His forehead was knotted. “This can’t be right.” There have been a lot of reports, much too many from Watchers all over San Francisco and the surrounding cities. “Take a look at this.” He flicked a small stack of papers at Caleb.

Sirius jumped out of his chair, taking a couple of steps toward the conference table where Caleb’s team had been sitting. They had a map spread out before them, red dots marking locales in the city. The map looked like it had come down with a bad case of chicken pox.

Sirius was pointing at the map. “If you take a look at the locations where the Watchers have reported activity, they are concentrated in certain areas of the city.” Sirius was rubbing his forehead again. “In each of those areas, the Watcher that reported stayed to monitor for additional activity. But in each of those calls, and after a quick blip on the Watcher’s radar, there was nothing. Things fizzled out. Each of those red dots ended up being a dead call, false alarms.”

“Did the Watchers lose track? Get distracted?” Ryder, Caleb’s second asked. Ryder was a big blond with long hair. In a fight, he was fast, strong, and resolute. His steady Earth Strong nature keeping him level headed and steadfast.

“No, that’s what’s strange. As you know, the Watchers are all over the place. No one is assigned to any one post or area. They go wherever and whenever they want. They have regular lives and report activity when they detect it. Very good for us. We have anonymous eyes out there. Lots of them.” Sirius paused to gather his thoughts. “Each of those calls was from a different Watcher.”

Everyone was paying attention.

“We never get this many bunk hits, especially not from so many experienced Watchers. And the locations, the frequency… I think something was giving our Watchers the creeps out there. That’s why they made the report, but why every single hit turned out dead. I can’t make sense of it.”

His team was stirring, glances being exchanged in concern.

“What else?” Caleb asked.

“I also ran data on the areas where the guardians were dispatched. During this same week, all the areas where you and your team have been, and where Jarron’s team has been, have all been a significant distance away from where these dead calls were occurring. We didn’t have any guardian units anywhere nearby.” Silence settled over the table.

“Do we have surveillance in any of these areas?” Jarron asked.

“I’ll tap into the city’s surveillance system -- see what I can find out.”

“Can you get the Watchers to provide you more info on those dead calls? Get more details on what they observed?” His headache was getting worse, the pressure behind his eyes feeling like a vice on his brain.

“Yeah, no problem. I’ll start making contact.”

“We were being diverted, but why?” He kept his voice low.

“What kind of activity did you run into this week?” Jarron was watching him, the fringes of his energy nearing his space to read him.

“All sorts, but mostly minor level demons going ballistic all over the place. Nothing like that shadow beast at the club.” He gave Jarron a look of warning.

Jarron turned his attention away from him. “What about my…?”

Markus and Adam walked in behind Maya. Jarron’s team had arrived and gave their injured leader nods of acknowledgement.

“What’d you find out at the park?” Jarron took a step forward.

“We talked to a lady that goes there every day. She reported seeing a big black cloud hanging over the park at the beginning of the week. Said she thought that it was rain clouds, but said it was too black and too thin -- like ribbons. She said she smelled rotten eggs around the park when the cloud was there.” Markus reported.

“The same lady reported that she tried to take pictures of the cloud, but none of the pictures came out.” Adam added.

“The witness pointed us to the Dutch Windmill. She said that was where she saw it and where the smell was strongest. Said she thought the smell might have been coming from the beach, but she said it was distinct and smelled foul, strong, rotten. We went around that whole area, but didn’t detect anything; no visuals and no smells.” Maya concluded.

“Were there other sightings of this cloud?” His brows knitted tightly, the force of his headache making it hard to think. Nothing was making sense.

“Yeah, City Parks and Rec got bombarded with complaints about the smell. Not as many reports about the black cloud, but enough to confirm that it was there.” Sirius chimed in from his desk.

“Maya, take the team back out tomorrow and see if you can catch some of the park workers. Get their stories. Find out if Parks Administration did any kind of investigation. Try and find more witnesses.” Jarron ordered. “Sirius, find out if any of the Watchers saw this black cloud.”

“I don’t like this.” Caleb blew out. “People are disappearing, we’re getting played, and we have no leads.”

****

Being at Control felt good and the day passed quickly, though he hated to see the teams leave without him. He felt useless, but it wouldn’t be for long. Tomorrow, after he showed the Healers his progress, he was confident that they would release him and he wanted to be ready to leave.

One more night and things would be back to normal.

Jarron missed being at his cabin. He hadn’t realized how much he liked being surrounded by the woods and hearing the sounds of nature around him. He felt grounded in his home. It was a hearth that stabilized his internal fire, which he’s had to hold under tight control lately.

It was well past midnight before he realized what time it was. The house was quiet on his way to his temporary quarters. Everyone was asleep, except for one. A smile came to his face as he walked toward the wide open door that poured out light in an otherwise darkened hallway.

He stepped onto Elysa’s door, about to say something when he stopped. She was on her knees, bent over a journal she’d been furiously writing in. Her short white cotton camisole was perfect against her sun-kissed skin. The bodice hung loose and low, allowing him an unrestricted view of her full, firm breasts.

His energy stirred, rousing desires he hadn’t felt in a long time. His thoughts quickly turning to what he could do to her while in that position; things he could do to make those beautiful breasts bounce and heave as she screamed out his name. He cleared his throat. “Hi.” He caught her by surprise.

Her cheeks blushed a rosy pink.

She quickly secured the bodice of her camisole with a trembling hand and stood up, careful to pull down on the short slip that barely covered her bottom.

He locked his gaze onto hers, one corner of his mouth rising to a half-cocked smile, his eyes darkening as he studied her every movement.

“Hi.” Her voice was almost a whisper.

“I wanted to thank you again for your help the other day.”

She walked tentatively in his direction, her long legs, looking sexy as they crisscrossed with each step. “I should be the one thanking you. I’m pretty sure you saved my life that night. Thank you. I owe you.”

She stopped just on the other side of the door frame and looked up at him; hazel eyes sweeping back and forth to study his face. God, she smelled lovely, like the night jasmine that grew in the forest… exotic, fragrant, and only bloomed when touched by the night. It was taking every bit of control not to kiss her.

“Good night, sweet Elysa.” He whispered in her ear and stepped away. His energy darkening as thoughts of Jade and his failure to protect her slipped across his mind, sobering any wants he might have had.

“Good night, Jarron.” Elysa muttered. Her nervous energy, making her aura dance around in frantic waves as she held onto the door, closing it slowly.