Cloud Rebel (R-D #3)(23)

"Because he had limited knowledge of other races?" I asked, looking up at Val's set expression.

"Very limited knowledge."

I realized then that Madam President's unfortunate remark still rankled with him. "Honey, they just don't know any better," I threaded my fingers with his.

"Larentii were made first of all races," Val said.

"How can you know that?" Auggie turned sharply to stare at Val.

"If you had met the ones responsible for creating all races, you'd know it, too," Val pointed out.

"Surely not," Auggie began.

"Do not question what you cannot comprehend," Val said.

"I've seen enough of Merle," I said, breaking the tension. "Let's look at the others."

Drawers were pulled out for the next two; one had been shot by Rafe, the other showed no physical signs as to why he died. "How did you do this?" I asked Val. I'd have separated his particles. Somehow, Val had avoided doing that, leaving our intended attacker just as dead.

"He was threatening you," Val said. "A Larentii is always allowed to protect his mate. I merely separated his life force from his body, so your esteemed Colonel and our compatriot, here, could examine the body at their leisure." He'd nodded toward Rafe when he'd said compatriot. He'd almost said co-mate—I understood that quickly.

Val was already considering Rafe/Ilya a member of our family.

Wow.

"Can you see anything in either of these?" Rafe asked me. I stopped still for a moment. It was a question he'd have asked—well—Corinne.

"Not a clone," I said of the first one—the one Rafe had killed. "Had an obsession," I sighed. "No idea what it was, as usual. No ID from fingerprints?" I turned to Auggie.

"Nothing in the database."

"Could be a drug survivor—in fact, that is most likely," Val agreed. "Since Rinnelar cannot find his identity any other way."

"What about the other one, then?"

I turned to the other one—the man Val had killed to protect me. Now I could see much in him.

Unfortunately.

"Denton Kemp," I sighed. "Former Black Ops. More recently of the CIA. He and Merle were like this," I held up two crossed fingers. "Also, recent visitor to Ireland. Need I go on?"

"I'll get Matt on the phone," Auggie said and hauled his cell from a pocket.

*

Cori, Matt greeted me in mindspeech when we walked into his office.

Matt, I nodded in return.

"Please sit," Matt said aloud. "So, Denton Kemp, eh. He's been undercover—according to the CIA—for a very long time."

"He's under a sheet in the morgue, now," I pointed out. "He and Merle, both."

"I imagine Askins led him astray," Matt blew out a breath. "He was a decorated officer in the military."

I felt the same way and offered Matt a slight nod of agreement. Askins had too much blood on his hands, and a rather large percentage of it was innocent blood, or nearly so.

"I'm glad you wanted to come by," Matt sighed. "I heard from Opal about an hour ago. Those in the Dublin photographs, according to latest reports, are headed this way and bringing some of their less than sympathetic goons with them."

"Why?" Auggie asked.

"Because Matt and Opal just emptied Dublin of the underground, and now the hounds are on the scent," I said.

"Better to fight them on familiar terrain—to us, anyway," Matt said. "I'm hoping that if we capture the right ones, we may be able to get to those behind this new movement and bring it down before it has a chance to develop into a new world-domination scheme."

"Fucking hell, Michaels," Auggie snapped. "You could have warned us ahead of time."

*

"Where do you suppose they are?" Rafe asked. He, Val and I were back at the beach house in Port Aransas. I felt weary after Matt's bombshell. We sat on the back deck of the house, in full sunlight; Val was nearly naked while I wore a tank top and shorts in order to soak up as much sunlight as possible.

Rafe wore Ray-Bans, jeans, boots and a light jacket—the temps were in the high fifties on the south Texas beach. Val had chosen to cover up his sweet spot with a Speedo. Yes, some people can wear Speedos. All Larentii can wear them.

"You wanted to see us?" Sergei and Katya joined us on the deck.

"Yes," Rafe nodded. "It seems that Director Michaels has arranged for your friends from Dublin to come to the U.S." he began.

"That's wonderful," Katya said.

"He's using them as bait, to draw the enemy in," Rafe concluded.

"And that's not so wonderful," I said.

"I beg you to protect them—as you did me," Sergei pleaded.

"Honey, I'll do my best, but with Sirenali involvement, that may be too little too late," I said.

"Do they know when and where they will arrive?" Katya asked. She pulled Sergei toward the love seat so they could sit together.

"He only gave them a time and place to show up at the Canadian border—plus enough cash to get there," I said. I anticipated having another conversation with Matt Michaels—when I was calm enough not to call him a half-meddling cactus molester.