Fury’s Choice Page 4
“Hey, boss. Sorry to bother you. There’s a situation.”
“There’s always a situation, Ajan. Which one are you talking about? And why are you working? You’re supposed to be in Haiti under some woman.”
He laughed. “Who says I wasn’t? I just got a call from HQ. You know I only care about the people-based situations. It’s the child, the one you took off the deceased mother. We can’t find any relatives, and the people we got out don’t want her. Apparently, there’s some superstition involved because she was taken from her mother’s body.”
“What, if they’d been hit by the bomb separately it would have been okay?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
She sighed. “Okay, get hold of the adoption agencies we use. See if we can get her on the books.”
“I will. In the meantime, do we keep her in the medical center?”
She thought about it. The child had been terribly malnourished, a late arrival to the project who hadn’t had time to make use of the facilities in place for health care. Without family, the child had no one to visit her in the care center, but she wasn’t strong enough to go live among children yet either.
“Put her in the children’s ward once she’s strong enough. Let’s integrate her slowly, and see that she gets into some English classes right away, so she doesn’t feel so helpless. We’ll go from there.”
“I’ll pass it on. Enjoying your break?”
“You know it. See you soon.”
She hung up and thought about the child as she stared at the water without seeing it. Before the gods had come out, she couldn’t imagine wanting to bring a child into the world. There was constant war and chaos. Even Westernized countries had their share of homelessness, addiction issues, poverty, and violence. She’d never understood the biological calling people felt to pass on their genes or create a being. Ego always seemed to be at the heart of it—the desire to make sure the nature of who a person was continued on through time. Once, that might have been necessary to propagate the species. Now, in a world with a population overrunning the planet’s resources, it seemed so…frivolous and narcissistic. Not that she had anything specific against being frivolous or narcissistic—she was known for being both, labels she considered part and parcel of being who she was. But when there were orphaned children in desperate need of someone to care, having one of your own seemed a lot like going to a dog breeder for a special breed, rather than saving one from a pound.
Was I wrong to save the child? Did the mother have time to pray before she died? Is that why I found the girl? Before, those answers would’ve been simple. She’d logically searched for survivors, found one, and helped. Simple cause and effect. But now, with the gods answering prayers, she wondered about free will and fate more than she ever had before. It irritated her. Who were they to dictate what she did and why? What made it okay for them to use her as a tool for other means? Or were they involved in her life at all, when she didn’t pray to any of them? Did that mean she had free will or only to the point she didn’t involve herself with believers?
She rubbed the back of her neck to stave off the impending tension headache. If she wanted answers badly enough, she could go to one of the meetings the gods were having with their followers and simply ask. But she didn’t want to. She didn’t want to acknowledge their power, or lack thereof, and she knew if she did talk to them, she’d be less than respectful. Insulting a god by telling them they were ineffectual, childish, naïve, and vengeful probably wasn’t going to help her plans. Staying away from them, and under their radar, seemed like a better idea.
Stop thinking. Be in the moment. Once again, she focused on the way the sun felt, the smell of the air, the sounds of the small tourist motorboats and the flaps of sails in the breeze. She closed her eyes and slowly drifted back to sleep, cradled in her deck chair, brief images of the woman with the white hair rising to the surface before she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
* * *
When Kera woke, the sun was sinking below the horizon, and she shivered in the cool evening air. Jesus. I must have been more tired than I realized. She hadn’t slept so well, and for so many hours, in longer than she could remember. Energized, she wanted to be around people, but not anyone she knew. She quickly showered and dressed and headed down the coast a few miles to St. Maxime. With luck, she could find a sexy woman with long hair and large breasts to spend the night with. Flirtation and sex were a game, one she was almost magically good at. Venus has nothing on me. She grinned at the thought of giving the goddess of love some tips. Like don’t fall in love.
She valeted her petrol blue Maserati at the far end of the paseo and strolled along, enjoying the sounds of music and laughter coming from the varied restaurants. Couples walked hand in hand, children raced one another onto the sand, and the sun cast a final gasp of dusky orange light before it sank beneath the horizon. She loved this part of France. Far enough from the impossibly rich people of St. Tropez and Cannes, but close enough to be cosmopolitan, she’d bought her house there after she’d started the company, knowing she’d need a genuine getaway at some point. Her mansion in Malibu was great, and served as an office as well, but this area felt more like home.
There was only one restaurant with a deck that led onto the beach. The others were across the street, and right now, she wanted to be near the water. She went in and smiled at the waitress, a woman whose bed she’d enjoyed once or twice, until she’d come back to find her married and pregnant. She kissed her cheek and waved her out to the deck before she turned and started making Kera a classic mojito with Wray and Nephew rum, Kera’s favorite drink.
When she stepped onto the deck, she froze. What…is it possible? The woman with the white hair sat alone at a table in the corner, reading a book with a tall glass of what looked like iced tea in front of her. Unlike the times Kera had seen her in war zones, she didn’t have wings or writhing snakes on her head, and she could easily pass for normal, if incredibly beautiful and unusual looking. Kera’s waitress friend nudged her and nodded toward the table with her eyebrows up.
“Go ahead. I doubt she bites.”
Little do you know. Kera figured she did a lot worse than bite. What the hell. She went over and quietly cleared her throat. “Of all the gin joints, in all the world…”
The woman looked up, startled, and stared at Kera for a moment before she gave her a small smile. “She had to walk into mine.” She motioned at the chair across from her. “Please.”
Kera sat down and extended her hand. “Kera Espinosa.” The woman shook her hand, and Kera noticed how dry and cool her skin was.
“Tisera Graves. Friends call me Tis. Nice to meet you, finally.”
Kera nodded, glad there wasn’t going to be any pretense about them not having seen one another before. “It’s strange, though. To see you here, in the quiet, without bombs going off or people screaming. I almost feel like I should make a scene, just so we know what parts we’re playing.”
Tis nodded, looking deeply contemplative. “It seems more than strange, to be honest. The world is a big place, and yet here we are, at a tiny port town in France.” She took a sip of her iced tea, her gaze never leaving Kera’s. “Rather, it seems almost…fated. And I always know what part I’m playing. I’m sure you do as well.”
Kera tried to shrug off the slight chill she felt at the words and smiled. “Whatever the reason, I’m incredibly glad for it. I’ve wanted to meet you for a long time.”
She sat back and thanked the waitress, who left her drink and a small plate of hors d’ oeuvres on the table with a quick wink.
“Truth be told, Kera, I’ve wondered how you managed to see me at all. If I’m not mistaken, the first time you saw me, in Baghdad, was years before the gods came out and the veil thinned. Usually if people see me, it’s because we’re having a…discussion. Granted, one person in a century might see me who isn’t on my client list, but it’s beyond rare.”
Kera sipped the cool, minty mojito, savorin
g the high-end rum, and considered the implied question. “My mother was a vodun priestess, as was her mother. From the time I was born, she introduced me to the orishas, and I started seeing whoever she was praying to, for whatever thing she was praying about. I always assumed I could see you because you were one of them.”
“A goddess of the voodoo religion? No, I’m afraid I’m nothing so interesting.”
Kera waited for more information, but it wasn’t forthcoming. Tis appeared to be lost in her thoughts. “If it’s not insulting, may I ask what you are, then? I can assure you, a woman like you is far from not interesting, in my rather vast experience with women.”
Tis focused on her, looking almost surprised to find her there. “I’m sorry. I’ve been incredibly overwhelmed lately, and I kind of just drift off sometimes.” She folded a napkin corner, then folded it back again before she looked up. “I’m a fury. One of the three ancient furies of Greece. My sisters and I deliver justice to those who perpetrate crimes against one another. And good to know you’re not spending nights pining about being alone.”
Kera nodded and hoped she didn’t look as daunted as she felt by the information. There weren’t a lot of people who got to sit across from an immortal thousands of years old. Well, there didn’t used to be. “That’s why we’ve crossed paths. I’m in places helping the people who are being hurt by the people you’re there to deal with.”
Tis inclined her head. “That makes sense. Tell me what you do.”
Talking about her business was one thing Kera knew how to do. And it made talking to a stunning supernatural being a bit easier. “I run a company called Global Relief and Development Experts, or GRADE. We go to war torn, poverty-stricken places and try to help. In some places that means working out how to get them clean water and mosquito netting. In others, like the one in Nigeria where I saw you, we run full-scale rescue and relief programs, taking in women and children who are displaced and in danger. We get them medical care, education, and help them get on their feet so they don’t have to depend on other people. If we have to, we evacuate them to other countries.”
Tis stared at her as she talked. It was slightly unnerving, the way she focused so intently and didn’t break eye contact. Kera rarely felt like someone was truly listening, but there was no question of that with Tis.
“That sounds noble. But it must take an astounding amount of money and time.”
Kera wondered if there was an implied rebuke or question of integrity in the statement. “It does. Fortunately, I made a lot of money working in the biomedical field before I started GRADE, which I invested extremely well, mostly in tech and medical companies that surpassed expectations. And in order to make GRADE work, I’ve developed partnerships with massive corporations as well as some smaller ones.” She sipped her drink, wondering how much to explain. Did it matter if this mysterious being, this fury, questioned her ethics? Damn right it does. She’d examine why later. “It’s not totally altruistic, if you’re wondering. I’ve always believed that in order to do good in the world, you have to be doing well yourself first. If you’re struggling to put food on the table, you won’t be able to focus on helping others as much as you want to. If you’re doing okay, though, then you can really work on making a difference in the world. I, and my staff, make good money. We still live in hovels when we’re working, often in war zones, ducking bombs and trying to help, even when dealing with the worst of humanity. But when we’re home, when we’re able to take some time off, we can enjoy it. And I do…enjoy it, I mean.”
“And with the money you’ve earned, you have the ability to develop these programs in other countries.”
She was glad Tis seemed to understand. Something about having a harbinger of justice based doom give you the thumbs-up had to be a good thing. “Exactly. I can’t do good without doing well. When I do well through my various business ventures, I try to make the world better. I do what I have to in order to get things done.”
Tis finished her iced tea about the same time Kera finished her mojito. She looked uncertain before she said, “I need to go, I’m afraid. Perhaps we could do this again one day.”
Kera was disappointed. Guess I said something wrong after all. “Sure. That would be great.”
Tis seemed to sense her feelings, and her hand covered Kera’s. “I mean it. I’d like to see you again.”
You run into minefields to save kids. You’ve slept with queens. You can ask a woman out. “Okay…tomorrow? Would you like to come to dinner at my place at, say, eight o’clock? I live in Port Grimaud.”
Tis frowned slightly and was silent for a long moment. Kera swallowed, wondering why it really, really mattered that she said yes.
“I’d like that. Thank you.”
She raised her translucent light gray eyes to meet Kera’s, and Kera felt her stomach flip. She’d been with plenty of beautiful women, but never someone, something, as stunning as Tis. “Excellent. Fifty-six Ile des Pins.”
Tis stood and moved away from the table. She gave Kera a tentative smile and inclined her head slightly. “See you tomorrow, Kera Espinosa.”
Kera watched as Tis walked to the edge of the water. Her slim, lithe body glowed against the dark night. She knew the moment Tis moved into what Kera thought of as spirit territory, where they weren’t visible to all and sundry. It had always reminded her of the heat waves that came off the pavement on a hot day. Tis looked as though she was surrounded by them. She looked over her shoulder at Kera and unfurled her magnificent white wings. With a final smile, she leapt into the air and soared off over the water. She was gone in an instant, leaving Kera holding her breath and in awe of her surreal, powerful beauty.
She sat back in her seat and motioned for another mojito. As her pulse slowed to a normal rate, she had a thought. What the hell does a fury eat? At least I know she drinks iced tea. She pictured Tis’s stunning eyes and sweet, though sad looking, smile. I’ve got a date. With a fury. Mom would be so proud.
Chapter Six
“Why did I say yes?” Tis sat on the veranda of her rented apartment, sipping an iced coffee and debating the necessity of existence over the phone with Aulis.
“Because if you didn’t, you’d molder away with your books, waiting for some cat lady’s cats to come eat you. Because you don’t even have your own cats. And then they wouldn’t eat you, because you’re so bony and muscly. Not even cats would eat you, and you’ve got wings. So you may as well go on a date and see if you can find something interesting to do with your life.”
Aulis always had a way with words. “Thanks for that little pep talk. I should date because cats wouldn’t eat me. I’m not sure your logic is sound.”
“Tisera, listen to me. You need this. You said yes because deep down, you miss being with someone.” Her tone gentled. “Give yourself a chance.”
“She’s human, Aul. What’s the point?”
“The point, ancient one, is to live. It doesn’t have to be forever, but it can be incredible while it lasts.”
Tis remembered that Aulis had once taken a human lover, and if she remembered correctly, they’d been together most of his life. Aulis had disappeared for a decade after his death, and when she’d returned, she’d been a deeper, more sensitive creature. Could it change me? Not likely. But Aulis was right. She wanted meaning in her life. Maybe developing more relationships outside Afterlife was a good start. Even if it didn’t get romantic, it would be nice to have a non-work friend other than Aulis.
“Okay, you’re right. I’ll go. But that doesn’t mean anything will come of it. It’ll probably just crash and burn.”
“No, it might not. And I’m glad you’re going into this so open-minded.”
“Sarcasm is unnecessary. I’d better go get ready.”
Aulis laughed again, and it made Tis smile, as it always did. “Call me with the dirty details when you finally get out of bed. Let me tell you, that woman has achieved demigod status when it comes to sex. I’d absolutely go there if I could.”
/>
Tis hung up and went through her limited wardrobe. Since this was a last-minute trip, she only had a small bag with her. She pulled out the flowing silk sundress with the light red flower print. That will do. I don’t want to look desperate or overdressed. The thought of going out with someone with the kind of reputation Kera had was daunting. What if it did go somewhere, and she forgot how to do it? You can’t forget how to have sex, moron. She took out a light wrap to go over the dress, and within a few minutes, she was ready. She didn’t wear makeup. Unlike Meg, she didn’t think it added anything, and it wasn’t as if they had blemishes or wrinkles. All three of them had porcelain skin and always would. When she saw commercials advertising anti-aging potions, she was glad she didn’t need to worry about it, and was bemused by the human fight against it. It wasn’t as if it could be helped, and the alternative to not aging was death, which seemed a rather drastic measure.
She hadn’t bothered with a car, and given that Kera knew what she was, she decided to fly. It had felt amazing to stretch her wings just because she wanted to and not because she was on her way to a job. She leapt from the balcony and dropped into the warm air current, glad the clothing she wore always stayed intact, though she never understood how that worked. It had been that way all their lives, and their mother had said to simply accept that some things were without reason.
She flew over the beautiful glistening waters of the French Riviera to Port Grimaud. When she spotted Kera’s address, she saw her in the kitchen, chopping knife in hand. Spontaneously, Tis decided to surprise her. She landed with a soft thump on Kera’s deck, her wings fully extended, blocking out the sunlight in front of the open French doors.
Kera looked up, apparently not fazed, and smiled widely. “That’s quite an entrance. Do you do it at parties?”
Tis laughed. “At the kind of parties I go to, there are far more impressive beings than me.”
“I seriously doubt that,” Kera said. “I don’t think that could be true anywhere, not just at parties.”