Desert Devil (Old School Book 5)
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Desert Devil
Jenny Schwartz
Donna Keats is a seer. But when she defies fate to save her estranged foster brother she becomes fate’s victim.
As one of only three couriers alive, Forrest “Rest” Castillo can travel anywhere on Earth in seconds. However, the price of his rare talent is to be forever alone. Anyone who gets close to him becomes a potential hostage for the powerful people that seek to own him.
Two years ago, Rest retreated to the isolated beauty of the Arizona desert to save those who have his loyalty and love, but it was the wrong strategy. It’s not his life that should be sacrificed for peace. Nor will it be Donna’s.
Rest’s enemies are about to learn that this former Army Ranger is not as alone as they believed, and that no conspiracy can be buried forever.
The time has come for Rest to walk the Path for justice, and Donna will match him step for step.
***
Desert Devil is a stand-alone paranormal romance in the Old School series.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
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Chapter 1
The gaps in the photograph album were significant. Two gaps: two photos missing. Both would have been of Forrest Castillo.
Donna Keats studied the photo of her nine-year-old self. She’d been a chubby-faced kid with solemn brown eyes. She remembered the dress she wore in the photo. It had been pink because Donna’s mom, Ellen, believed all little girls liked pink.
“It’s comforting, and it makes them feel pretty,” Ellen had said; right before she’d bought the other girl in the photo, Breanna, the same dress.
Donna hadn’t felt pretty. She’d felt anonymous; just one more girl in a parade of pink dresses.
Fifteen years later, wearing a faded black t-shirt over cut-off denim shorts, she snapped the album shut. The answers she sought weren’t in the photograph album, and at midday, the attic of her parents’ house was worse than a sauna. Washington, DC in summer was hot and humid. Donna sneezed and scrambled up from the dusty floor. She returned the album to its storage crate and jogged downstairs.
For a wonder, she had the house to herself. The rambling house on its half-acre lot near the Potomac River was usually crowded with children. Luck had been with Donna, however, and she’d arrived that morning as her mom was shepherding her current flock of three foster children off for a day at summer camp. It wasn’t that Donna disliked kids, it was simply that she knew how curious they were, and she was happier not to have anyone shadowing her as she searched for a tangible memory of Forrest Castillo.
Fifteen years ago, Forrest—or Rest, as he’d called himself—had been one of those foster children. He’d been special, though. Like Donna’s dad, Rest was a courier. Of course, at fifteen, he’d only just been developing his rare magical talent for opening portals and navigating the Path that connected them, but Tony Keats had been adamant that the boy he taught would one day exceed him in his courier abilities.
Donna didn’t know if that prediction had come true. What she had learned recently was that Rest’s talent was fated to kill him.
She headed for the large country kitchen with its giant refrigerator. After the attic, she needed a drink. The sharpness of grapefruit juice chased away the taste of dust. She rattled the ice cubes remaining in her glass and crunched one thoughtfully.
The Defense Department would have a photo of Rest, either in its secret operations files or his regular Army Ranger file, but getting her dad to ask for the files wasn’t an option. Until she’d identified where the threat to Rest was coming from, she couldn’t risk alerting anyone to her interest in his whereabouts. Otherwise, she might lead them right to him.
Since resigning from the Rangers two years ago, Rest had vanished. He was off the grid, and none of her discreet inquiries had elicited even a hint as to his whereabouts. That was why she needed a photo of him. Her friend Sadie was an exceptionally strong finder talent who could detect a person even through a ward or enchanted armor, but Sadie needed a photo or a personal connection to her target for her finder talent to work.
Donna had returned to her parents’ house to find a photo. She’d had one until a year ago when she’d burned it, and deleted its digital counterpart. It had been a ritual action. Drunken rituals usually bit the next day. This one had waited a year to hit her with violent regret. She’d been trying to forget Rest; to move on, as he had.
He’d just been a boy she’d known. A big brother.
The lie was big enough for her to choke on.
And now, when it was urgent, she couldn’t locate any other photos of him. It seemed that Rest knew about finder talents and had deleted all digital traces of himself. There was no mention of him on social media. This final revelation, that his photos were missing from the Keats’ family album, emphasized how serious he was about hiding.
Perhaps he’d even substituted a photo of someone else in his official files. He’d been special ops long enough to develop the sort of paranoia—and skills—required to risk tampering with Defense Department files.
Donna rinsed her glass and up-ended it on the kitchen sink, staring out the window. If she couldn’t locate a photo of Rest in the next few hours, she’d have to risk asking her dad for help in finding him. Urgency drove her. Every minute was a countdown to Rest’s death.
The summer sky was a perfect blue, the few clouds in it white and puffy. As a kid, she’d loved to lie on the lawn and imagine shapes in the clouds. There had been all the time in the world for dreaming. Once she’d seen a cloud dragon and shouted for everyone to look. Only Rest had. Tall and lanky at sixteen, he’d grinned at her. “Careful, princess, or it’ll snatch you away.”
There were good memories at the house. The yard was big enough for kids to kick a ball around, and a tall oak tree on the north side provided shade.
Donna clutched the edge of the counter. “The oak tree…”
Her dad had cut off the tree’s lower limbs years ago after one of the kids fell while climbing it and broke her arm. Before then, they’d all played in it, but Rest had been older, stronger, taller and braver. He’d climbed further than any of them, and he’d secured his birdhouse up high, out of reach.
Was it still there?
She ran outside, transitioning from the air-conditioned atmosphere of the house to the humid yard with only a grimace for the discomfort. The oak had grown in thirteen years. She wandered around under it, peering up through the branches and trying to remember where Rest had tied the birdhouse; hoping it was still there.
“Yes!” She punched the air. She could see the birdhouse up above her, its timber walls graying but intact.
Rest had spent an entire winter making the birdhouse in her parents’ garage. Donna hadn’t been there, but her mom’s emails to her at boarding school had mentioned Ellen’s suspicions that Rest was using the project as an excuse to avoid the chaos of the house. At seventeen, he’d been older than the other kids.
Donna thought her mom was wrong.
Rest had mentioned the idea of making a bird
house while she’d been home for Christmas. He enjoyed making things, and before his grandfather passed away, the old man had taught Rest the basics of carpentry. The birdhouse had been a tribute to his grandfather’s memory. As such, it had the personal connection to Rest that Sadie needed for her talent to find him.
“If I can get it down in one piece.” Donna studied the oak tree. She’d need a ladder to reach its branches. Then from there… “Don’t look down.” She gulped. “And don’t think about it!”
Before she could wimp out, she carried the tallest ladder from the garage, set it securely against the trunk of the oak, and began climbing. Three rungs up, she reversed direction. The light sandals she wore weren’t going to help. Barefoot was best for climbing trees. She kicked off the sandals and started up the ladder again.
There was a tricky moment as she released one branch, only to get distracted by a wasp circling her face and waving it away when she should have been reaching for the next branch. Panicked by her sudden sway, she grabbed the branch and released her breath on a gasp of relief and chagrin. “Concentrate.”
The oak had begun to grow around the rope that secured the old birdhouse to its branch. Donna tied a thin cord around the birdhouse’s main structure, looping it inside the miniature porch so that the posts and roof held the cord. Then she secured the other end to the branch. Once she cut the old rope, she would lower the birdhouse to the ground. Her hands slipped and sweated on the pocketknife, but she finally sawed through the rope and the birdhouse swung free—and didn’t break. Rest had built it well. Quickly, she lowered it to the ground, then followed it more cautiously. Her arms ached and her legs were wobbly with relief, but she staggered on as fast as she could. Life would be easier if her parents didn’t realize what she’d done and ask questions.
She put the birdhouse in the trunk of her rental car and returned the ladder to the garage. Then she went upstairs to shower. The sooner Sadie had the birdhouse, the sooner she’d find Rest. Conscious of an ominous sense of danger hovering, Donna hurried.
Chapter 2
The drive from Phoenix had been simple enough. Donna crossed the famous Route 66 heading north, then veered west. The tiny town of Tedium appeared soon after. Well, soon, as people in the West calculated distance. The late afternoon sun was blazingly hot and bright when she parked outside the town’s only restaurant. Three vehicles were already parked outside the diner: all pickups. They dwarfed her fuel-efficient rental car.
She got out and stretched. At least the heat here was dry, unlike the sweltering humidity she’d grown up with. Mountains on the horizon emphasized the flatness of where she stood. Heat haze shimmered from the roads. High up a hawk or vulture or some kind of large bird circled, hunting its next meal.
As she walked into the diner, she pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head. She’d dressed to fit in with the locals, wearing a blue and white t-shirt and dark gray hiking shorts, but she didn’t really need to stop here. She ought to keep driving. Sadie had pinpointed Rest’s location at a ranch outside of town. All Donna had to do was drive there, deliver her warning, and leave.
Except emotions complicated everything.
For two years she’d wanted an excuse to contact Rest, and now that she had it, she was delaying. Did she really think she could learn anything about Rest here? What did she need to know?
The honest truth was that she was scared; scared that when she drove to Rest’s home, she’d find a woman there.
Perhaps a couple of questions asked in the diner might tell her if he’d found a woman he wouldn’t run away from, but if he had, so what? She’d still have to deliver her warning to him.
But I wouldn’t drive there hoping…
Idiot! She was an idiot to still be wishing and dreaming.
He’d made his decision two years ago and cut her out of his life. No, he’d cut himself out of his old life. She wasn’t the only person he’d left behind.
She’d spent two years missing him and comparing all other guys to him. Even when she’d tried to forget, her heart had remembered him.
The same heart that gave a huge thump and tried to choke her when she recognized Rest sitting at a table in the diner with three other men. They all wore the sturdy cotton shirts and faded jeans of ranchers, along with dusty boots and western hats pushed to the back of their heads.
Donna stood in the doorway, not breathing. The unexpectedness of Rest being there robbed her of momentum. She couldn’t go forward, and she refused to go back.
Then he looked up.
Her breath rushed back into her lungs.
His eyes widened. His chair scraped the wooden floorboards as he stood.
“Hi.” She didn’t know if Rest went by another name here, so she said nothing else, only looked. She wanted to smile, but her mouth wasn’t responding to commands. Emotion had shaken her usual composure.
He was tanned and rugged, average height which was more than tall enough for a petite girl like her.
For an instant, she thought she saw a welcome in his eyes and a softening of the straight line of his mouth.
Then he tipped his hat forward, shading his eyes, and his voice was harsh. “How did you find me?” he demanded, skipping niceties like hello.
The lack of welcome sent her stomach into freefall.
One of the men at the table laughed. “Man, I wouldn’t be complaining if someone like her found me. Unless she’s your ex-wife?”
“You got married?” Donna squeaked.
“No!”
At Rest’s horrified response, the men at the table laughed.
He scowled at them before he clasped her elbow and led her to an empty booth on the far side of the diner.
An older waitress in a tie-dyed t-shirt and long cotton skirt immediately approached and asked what they wanted.
“She’s not staying,” Rest said.
Donna avoided his gaze across the table. “Coffee, please.” Then in a major concession to Rest’s attitude. “Perhaps to go?”
The waitress inhaled sharply. “I do not serve environmentally wasteful plastic cups in my diner.”
“Ariel,” Rest said with a note of warning.
“You’ll drink your coffee here, in a real cup, like a decent person.” The woman stomped off.
The trio of men at Rest’s former table didn’t laugh, which was testament to the respect the woman commanded in the small town.
Donna could no longer see the men. Her back was to the door. Rest, as a former Army Ranger, had positioned himself in the booth so that he couldn’t be taken by surprise.
Nausea churned in her stomach at the obvious suspicion he directed her way. She could survive his behavior shattering her adult fantasies of meeting him again, but his inhospitable attitude insulted her memories of his kindness. As children, a six year age gap had made it difficult for them to be friends, but he’d always treated her as an older cousin might: with indulgence and a degree of care.
Now, he was a hostile stranger; an attractive, hard man. His hands were scarred and calloused.
She wanted to find her way back to the trust that had been between them. “Rest, no one knows that I’m here or that you’re here, except for a friend of mine who is a finder talent and she won’t tell anyone. I had to find you.”
There was a momentary softening in the suspicious stare aimed her way. “Do you need help?”
When she shook her head, his mouth went tight again.
“Your coffees.” The cups rattled a moment in their saucers, a mismatched pair, but the aroma of the coffee was rich and seductive; far above the usual standard for diner coffee.
Donna took a reviving sip, then a second, before putting the cup down and beginning resolutely. “I’m here because I had a vision about you.”
“A vision?” he said too neutrally.
“Sometimes secrets come back to haunt us, don’t they?” she asked, painfully rueful. She wouldn’t change any of the decisions she’d made in life, but she had to live with t
heir consequences. “I was thirteen, away at boarding school, when I had my first vision. Magical talents tend to kick in at puberty.”
He tapped a finger on the table. “You’re a witch, like your mom.”
Magical talent was rare in the world. Even the fact that her dad was a courier and her mom a minor witch hadn’t guaranteed that she’d be born with any talent for magic.
“Yes, I’m a small-time witch, like Mom. However, witching is my secondary talent. I’m also a seer.” She took a deep breath. “I chose not to tell my parents because they would have registered my talent with 13OPS.” 13OPS was the government’s covert magical investigations bureau, and so much more. “I wanted to choose my own life.”
They stared at one another, Rest’s history lying between them. He hadn’t had that choice. A 13OPS agent had seen Rest operating a portal as a kid. The wizard had recognized the situation of Rest’s emergence out of thin air as the action of portal travel, and acted accordingly. In other words, the agent had seized Rest and brought the fifteen-year-old boy to Tony Keats for training.
Donna shook her head. She obviously had only a limited window of time to convince him to listen to her warning before he kicked her out of his town. Whatever she’d dreamed of…hoped for…he didn’t want her here.
She cut to the chase. “Three days ago I was in the gallery, rearranging the jewelry case, when the vision started. I’ve always imagined a portal as a swirling tunnel, and that’s what I saw. There was a swirling tunnel with a harsh, whipping sound like sand swept up by a storm wind along the beach, and out of the tunnel came a demon, wild and crimson and wearing fire. It opened its mouth wider and wider and its teeth were gold. It was going to eat you. I knew you were the courier, not Dad. Then a raven flew in and the vision went black.”
He waited out her small silence without comment.
She drank some coffee. Not that she needed more stimulation. Her pulse was pounding with remembered adrenaline as well as current emotional stress. “When I woke up, I was holding one of the pendants from the case.” She unhooked its chain from around her neck. “This one. The crystal is black tourmaline. It blocks hostile magic.” She pushed it across the table to him. “On the other side, you’ll see someone’s etched in a stylized bird. I think it’s the raven from my vision.”