Lost Bastard Page 2

  The Marine turned his head slightly in her direction, a wry grin on his face. “If you slide your hands a bit forward, I’ll tough it out for a full minute.”

  Deva rolled her eyes behind his back, but she knew that when they started to make lewd remarks if only in jest, it meant that something had shifted in them and they were heading in the right direction. Another part of their humanity was clicking back in its place, like a piece of a puzzle.

  “I’m not in charge of rehabilitating that part of your anatomy, sweetie. But I’ll take that minute, though.”

  Jason half laughed, half grunted, but true to his word; he stayed standing for a full minute, just as he said. Prepared, Deva discreetly moved the wheelchair with her foot, ready if his arms gave out. But as she suspected, his pride and determination kept him up almost as much as his straining, underused muscles.

  When she slowly helped him down into a seated position, the man was grinning like a fool and heaving as if he had run a marathon, sweat staining his t-shirt emblazoned with the Marine Corps logo.

  “Excellent job, Jason. And for that, I’ll personally give you a massage. How’s that for a reward?”

  Jason tilted his head, giving her a suspicious look as he caught up his breath. “By massage, you mean twisting my body in impossible positions until I cry for mercy?”

  “Yes, but I’ll finish up with something softer. If you behave, of course, and endure your torment like a good Marine.”

  Jason chuckled and rolled his chair toward the door. “Let me shower first. And then, I’m all yours.”

  Shaking her head at his smart mouth, she started cleaning up her workstation. They may all tell her outrageous things, but Deva knew they would never do anything inappropriate. And because of that, she gave them more leeway. In this place, she was in control, and safe.

  As she was finishing, Stuart, one of the other therapists, poked his head into her workroom. “Deva, someone on the phone for you. I transferred it to your office. It seemed urgent. Do you want me to finish up here?”

  Shaking her head, Deva grabbed a towel on the floor. “No, I’m done. That must be the call from Doctor Humphreys about Jada. I’ve been waiting for him all week. By the way, Jason is getting ready for his stretching session after his shower. If I’m not done with the call, can you get him ready?”

  “Sure will. And don’t forget about the five o’clock meeting!”

  Deva laughed. “If that meeting involves booze and nachos, I’ll think about it. And if you’re paying, I’ll definitely go.”

  Stuart rolled his eyes and whined good-naturedly. “Come on! There will be ten people there; I can’t pay for everyone!”

  “You whine, we dine, suck it up, Stuart.”

  And biting back her grin, she bypassed her coworker and pushed the sweaty towel to his chest before heading to her office. Closing the door with her foot, she pushed the blinking red light on her phone.

  “Hello, Deva. How’s my dark sparrow today?”

  Everything in her froze, her mind slipping back ten years. That female voice. The codename. Deva swallowed hard and took the handset, not willing to risk anyone overhearing the conversation.

  Wetting her dry lips, she finally answered. “Hello, Beatrice. It’s been a long time since I last heard from you. I almost thought you had forgotten all about me.”

  The woman on the other end of the line let out a deep sigh. It was so unlike what Deva remembered about her; it made Deva frown.

  “Believe me; I never call any of the people I saved lightly. But you know the deal. I’m only calling in my favor because I need someone with your skillset, and even more so, your knowledge. What about a coffee? You have one last patient to see today if I’m not mistaken. I know you have a small gathering afterward, what about we meet when you are done? At that small coffee shop you like so much. It’s open late, so I’ll be waiting for you there.”

  Deva blinked and shook her head. Was there anything that woman didn’t know about her? If she didn’t believe that Beatrice Dante, a woman of mystery and savior extraordinaire, was one good soul, she would be seriously scared.

  “Okay, let’s meet there. But I can skip the gathering and…”

  “No need, see you later, Deva.”

  Slowly putting the handset down, Deva, sat back in her chair, nothing in her body steady anymore. Ten years. It had been ten years since she had last seen Beatrice or had any contact with her since her old life ended and she started a brand new one with her help. For ten years, Deva had worked at pushing bad memories away and had finally stopped looking over her shoulder. But that blessing came with a price, and Deva was very aware of it when she had accepted Beatrice’s deal. One favor. One which could be called in at any time, or even never. Beatrice Dante was the head of an organization dedicated to saving people considered lost causes. And she had been one very lost cause at one point in time.

  Deva removed her hair band, letting her wealth of dark brown curls tumble down over her shoulders. She hadn’t been able to cut them off when she disappeared, and instead dyed them a chocolate brown to cover the natural pale blond. Beatrice had offered plastic surgery if she wanted, or to change the blue of her eyes with permanent contact lenses, but she couldn’t. The blond was her father’s and was something she was glad to get rid of, but her eyes were her mother’s. The deep blue could be mistaken for other colors easily, and Deva needed a reminder of something good, soft, and loving in her past when she looked at herself in the mirror. When her mother had been alive, a long time ago. A lifetime away.

  This was a different life now, but was she any different? Who she had been had forged her, scarred her, inked her personality, forever. It made her strong enough to fight back, to take another path. There was nothing helpless about her, so why was she shaking? It was only a favor, not the destruction of what she had built for herself. And not even the mighty Beatrice Dante would be able to destroy that. The monsters of her past had made her vow that much, and she intended to fight for what she had built, for the woman she had rebuilt from blood and ashes.

  Chapter 2

  It was closing in on nine p.m. when Deva finally pushed open the door of the Never Late Latte. She had decided against skipping the employee meeting, even though the theme of the night was always fun and drinks rather than any real discussions about patients and projects. Maybe it was her way of clinging to what she had worked so hard for, or maybe she didn’t want to change her routine and raise suspicions. It amazed her how her old habits returned full force after only a single phone call.

  The café was quiet at this hour, the familiar indie station crooning in the background. At a table, a couple was talking. A beautiful blond woman and a man with dark hair and beard trimmed short, with stunning gray eyes that settled on her for a brief instant before returning to his companion.

  Two customers were doctoring their drinks on a side station. They were familiar faces and café regulars. Deva saw Beatrice sitting in a booth by the windows. Beatrice nodded at her and Deva did the same before making a beeline for the counter. After ordering a black tea, she made her way to the woman to whom she owed her life. Beatrice hadn’t changed much, still slender and willowy, her red hair spiking on her head and the same freckles on her pale face. A warrior fairy. The thought made Deva bite back a smile when she sat on the bench in front of her.

  “I’m glad to see you, Deva. Love the hair. It suits you, gives you an edge.”

  “Well, the passive blonde Barbie doll was never truly my look, to be honest. You know that.”

  Beatrice nodded, swirling her cup of coffee. “Passive, submissive, easy, would never be words I would use to describe you.”

  Deva put her hand around her mug, looking at the darkening liquid. “I don’t think my father, or my… family, would agree with you.”

  “Only because they never saw the true you. They only saw a young girl that could be used to their advantage, for their own profit.”

  Deva pondered on her words for a moment, bef
ore looking at Beatrice again. “And if what you say is true, can you explain to me why I’m here? Am I about to be used to your advantage, or profit?”

  The calm expression of this dangerous woman changed to one of someone who had been insulted. “I’m not forcing you into anything. I told you that if I helped you to get out, I might need you. Maybe. But if you don’t want to be here, walk away, Deva. You aren’t a slave, and I’m not going to force you into anything. I only thought we had an agreement.”

  Deva arched an eyebrow. “You mean, I can continue living the life I have, here in Texas. Just like that?”

  Beatrice sighed and leaned on the padded back. “Just like that.”

  It would have been so easy to push her mug aside, take her bag and leave this place. But despite everything else, she knew Beatrice wasn’t an enemy. She had been a friend, years ago, when a frightened young girl was desperate to get away, to get free. She may have been young, and somewhat naive, but certainly not stupid. The deal she had made, she was willing to pay. Not because she was coerced, but because of simple gratitude. If not for the woman sitting before her, she may have hanged herself or ended up in an even worse fate.

  It was Deva’s turn to lean back and sigh. “And you know I won’t walk out. That’s all bluff.”

  “No bluff, I’m not lying.”

  Deva ignored her answer. “What I mean is I can’t walk out on you. I owe you. A lot. And I meant it when I agreed to help you if ever you needed me. That agreement still stands today. Here and now.”

  For a long time, Beatrice looked at her before nodding. “At the risk of having you bite my head off, that part of you is so like your father.”

  Deva’s jaw clenched before forcing herself to relax it again. No need to get angry about things she couldn’t change or simple facts.

  “Let’s skip that topic, shall we?”

  Beatrice leaned forward once more, her eyes intently on her. “Let’s not. Not totally at least because what I need from you, that favor, is linked to your previous life. More specifically, to your knowledge of that past life.”

  Deva rolled her shoulders, trying to get rid of the uncomfortable feeling that had crept on her. Her past always was a topic she carefully avoided thinking about. “And that would be?”

  “Keeping an eye on someone. But maybe I’m not the best person to tell you all about it. Do you mind if I introduce you to my friends?”

  Deva blinked, and it clicked. “The blonde beauty or the silver-eye hunk?”

  Beatrice burst out laughing. “You’re quick. Dangerously so. A trait I always liked about you. Both would like to join us, but it’s the hunk, as you said it, that will give you the information about what we need you to do.”

  “And the blonde?”

  Something softened in Beatrice’s eye. “A friend, and your direct contact to me. Gabrielle Thorne has worked for Purgatory for a long time, and can support you in any way you wish, even retrieve you if you ever demand it.”

  “And Mr. Silver?”

  “Lazarus King. He’s a long-time friend, and the one requesting our help. But of all my agents, my contacts or my friends, you are the only one I could think of to really bring an edge, the tipping point we need to succeed.”

  Deva turned her head to the couple still ignoring them and shrugged. “Hell. Ask them to come over. The more the fucking merrier.”

  Beatrice nodded before sliding out the bench to stand. Deva looked at her as she approached and nodded at the couple. The trio came back, Beatrice sat beside her, the woman named Gabrielle in front of her and the man, Lazarus, at the end. The man was gorgeous in a very dangerous way. From experience, by the way he moved, underneath his black shirt and pants was a well-oiled machine, one who had seen war, on the battlefield, or the streets. The blonde woman smiled, but the way she scanned the area told Deva that she was an operative, a lot like Bea. She was married as per the worn golden ring on her finger. He wasn’t. His mercury eyes were set on her, and she suspected, as a test. Powerful men had a tendency, consciously or not, to test people around them. Instead of avoiding the intensity, she let herself fall into it. It had been her way, a long time ago when confronted with people like him. And what she had discovered was once the first punch in the gut had passed, she could draw the power he exuded for herself, helping her to be steadier, stronger and more unyielding to her opponent in that staring contest.

  Someone spoke, and Deva was surprised when the man finally blinked and smiled. The darkness that filled him lifted and there was an incredibly handsome man looking back at her. And when he spoke, the low tone of his voice, or was it his British accent, finished to turn her into jelly. Deva guessed that if he couldn’t get what he wanted with his fists, he could seduce it out of anybody. And that alone intrigued her even more, curiosity inching forward to discover why such a man would be in need of her.

  “I like her; she will do perfectly.”

  The woman named Gabrielle arched an eyebrow at him before shaking her head and extending a hand to Deva. “I’m Gabrielle Thorne. And this is Lazarus King. And just for standing up to this guy, you have my respect. Especially since you had the self-control not to punch him in the face.”

  Lazarus looked offended. “I did nothing to warrant your aggressiveness toward me.”

  Gabrielle rolled her eyes. “From the moment I met you, I have refrained from hitting you behind the head with a baseball bat. You are lucky I’m a compassionate woman.”

  Baffled, the man crossed his arms. “Compassionate? Remind me when exactly?”

  “I saved your ass, didn’t I? Even though you were supposed to protect two of the most important people in my life.”

  He almost sputtered his answer. “It was a trap. And I did my best to protect them both. If not for me, they would have died.”

  Deva bit her lip to stop herself from smiling. Gabrielle had balls, as it was obvious that the tall man sitting beside her could inflict harm in a heartbeat, but she also suspected that the blonde wasn’t a kitten either.

  “Are you married to one another?”

  Beatrice snickered at the look of utter outrage on both their faces as they looked at her. It was Gabrielle who answered first.

  “Hell no! I would be accused of murder within thirty seconds. I would never marry this stick in the mud.”

  Lazarus rubbed his eyes. “As if your husband were truly a catch. But we’re digressing here, and I’m sure Miss Landry prefers to know why we’re here than talk about your marriage to that crazy Navy SEAL.”

  “My husband is not crazy, watch your mouth, jerk, or should I say tosser? Isn’t the same thing for you, Brit?”

  Before Lazarus could reply, Beatrice raised her hands in appeasement. “I think we should talk about why we are here. And then you kids can settle your feud at recess. Lazarus, can you start?”

  Lazarus nodded and reigned himself in as he turned to the business at hand. “I asked Beatrice’s help because I can’t go through the usual channels I’m used to. And she assured me that she can trust you. Can I, Deva Landry? Trust you?”

  Gone was the lighthearted banter. Lazarus King was asking a very specific question, and if she failed to answer right, her life would be on the line.

  “Yes. You can trust me, Mr. King.”

  After gazing a long moment in her eyes, he simply nodded, as if seeing the confirmation that he was desperately looking for.

  “Please, call me Oz. Let’s begin.”

  Chapter 3

  Deva closed her bedroom closet door with a flourish; she had finally settled in her new apartment. A nice size one-bedroom on the second floor of an old brick house building on the edge of North Side in Chicago. During her ride there, she could see the quaint neighborhood, a couple of restaurants. And on her way up, her two surprising downstairs neighbors.

  Marcus, a thin, bald black man in his mid-forties, with an extravagant attitude, and Miss Lupe, a Hispanic matriarch, closing in on eighty with gnarly fingers and a suspicious glare. Deva smiled a
t them and used all her experience with snarly soldiers to at least thaw them out a little. During their discussion, she learned that both Marcus and the elderly woman shared the lower floor. Miss Lupe couldn’t use stairs due to severe rheumatism, and Marcus didn’t have the money to rent a place of his own. Not yet anyway from what he had told her. In exchange for a lower rent, he ran errands for Miss Lupe and cooked for her. A strange duo in Deva’s mind, but a useful arrangement for both of them.

  As soon as her new neighbors started talking, they immediately bombarded Deva with inquisitive questions. “Why was she here? Where was she working? Did she have a boyfriend?” Most of the questions were easy to answer, as her cover didn’t differ much from reality. She didn’t have a boyfriend, and she had moved here when a physical therapist position had opened. It was different, she needed a change, so she just jumped at the chance. Believable enough story, especially since they wouldn’t dig into her past. And even if they did? There wasn’t anything wrong with wanting to turn your life in a new direction.

  And she was saved by Gabrielle who had come over with food. Her new “handler,” as Beatrice called her, was supposed to be her sole contact, and they had agreed that looking as if they were good friends to her new neighbors and coworkers would facilitate the whole situation.

  “Do you want to eat? I just bought subs. I didn’t want to heat up anything as your air conditioning isn’t working yet and it’s beginning to feel hot in here.”

  Deva stretched and went into her kitchen where Gabrielle was getting two bottles of water from the fridge.

  “It’s hot, but it’s only June. Not as stifling as San Antonio, that’s for sure. You just stand there, and sweat is pouring out of you like a river.”

  Gabrielle nodded. “Only been there once, nice city, great food. But I was busy working. It would be fun to plan a vacation there. I’ll have to ask Sully and Arthur if they want to go.”

  “Sully is your husband?”