“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t . . . I mean—”
“No worries,” I assured and reached out to squeeze his hand. “Thank you for checking on me and steadying me. I appreciate it.”
“Always.”
I felt a sigh whisper through me. There was that word again. Two syllables so rife with emotion it almost flattened me like the wave of residual energy had. Still, it felt comforting—albeit confusing.
“I’d better go and check the rest of the house,” I said, taking another step back. I felt somehow colder and wondered what that was all about. It was something else I’d have to revisit later tonight while I was alone. Meditate on it a bit. Those things were adding up.
Kholt nodded at me and then moved around me to head back to wherever he’d been.
I put my face in my cupped hands, letting out a silent scream. I felt like I was losing touch with reality a bit. I’d never been so careless with my magic before, letting my guard down to such a degree that I could be knocked flat like that. Too much change in too short of a time. It was the only explanation.
I shook my head and fluffed my hair, straightening my spine.
“Get your shit together, Lark.” I said it aloud, albeit quietly, and I honestly didn’t care if anybody heard me.
Chapter13
“When people leave cults, they don’t know that they left a cult.”
~Sean Durkin
Lionel disconnected from the call and rubbed a hand over his mouth, hiding the grin he couldn’t suppress. He was getting close. So very, very close. And the Divine was smiling on him now.
Trent had just called to tell him that he’d tracked his little bird to the Ninth Ward. He’d ultimately lost her, but his lieutenant knew that she was there somewhere. And to make matters more interesting, he’d told Lionel that he saw Kholt Leroy in the area, as well. Judith and Eric Fontenot’s foster son, Kholt, had been with Balance of Light from the age of three until perhaps just over a decade ago. And he hadn’t left the family, he’d just left to pursue his career.
Lionel actually remembered his son, Turner, mentioning something about Kholt, as well. Lionel had been doing some outreach work through his foundation, trying to keep things as legit as possible so the government would leave him and his people alone. Good press was good for the family. It kept some of the lookie-loos away.
He’d sent Kholt out to do some habitat for humanity-type outreach work with his company, Sunshine and Shadow Construction. When they needed an engineer, Lionel had volunteered his son, the smartest person he knew—outside of himself, anyway. The two boys had become friends.
Lionel wondered about the coincidence of all three of them being in the same city at the same time. He needed to have a chat with his son. It was time for Turner to come home, anyway. Dawn wasn’t doing well, and Lionel wasn’t entirely sure she’d live to see another month. None of his healings had worked, and he and his followers didn’t believe in outside medicine. Dawn had begged. Had even started treatments without his knowledge and permission when he’d been staying with one of his other wives, but he’d put the kibosh on that right quick. If it couldn’t be healed by faith and that of the earth, it couldn’t be healed. The person simply wasn’t worthy.
Lionel wondered if Dawn had perhaps sent their son to find her degenerate daughter. Was her disease eating at her brain to the point where she would dare defy him yet again and seek out the blasphemer? He’d need to have a little chat with her, too. Teach her some manners. Remind her who she owed her life to.
And then he’d call Kholt. While Lionel allowed some of his flock to leave the ranch to seek out lives that could benefit the community monetarily, it was rare. Generally, it was those he didn’t feel were worthy to be in close proximity to the chosen—like an orphan. But Kholt being gone could come in handy. He could use it to his advantage. He’d play Kholt like the instrument he was, and then he’d bring Starling back home where she belonged.
What happened after that was entirely up to how sorry she was and how she made it up to him.
Chapter14
~Kholt ~
Day two of walk-throughs was wrapping up. From what I’d heard, the team had made contact with the Doulluts’ son, Paul, a young girl named Miranda, the captain himself, and several Hurricane Katrina victims that’d passed in the flood.
I’d spent most of the day helping Lennie and Van hang static cameras and microphones, run cable, build platforms and braces for their new piece of equipment they called the Ghost Grid that I couldn’t wait to see in action, and running things to and fro from house to house for the rest of the team. I was physically exhausted but mentally pumped, which was why I decided to ask Lark if she was up for dinner tonight.
I walked up to where she was packing up her equipment. “Hey,” I said. “Need any help?”
She looked up at me and grinned. “Nope, I’m good.” She stood and dusted off her knees. “Did you have a good day?”
“I really did. It was hard work, but I can see why Turner likes this job. It’s a rush.”
She smiled. “Just wait until the actual filming. Speaking of Turner, have you heard from him? He hasn’t been answering my texts. I just want to know that he’s okay. Dev said he called him and said he was feeling better but that he had a family emergency to take care of.”
I tried to hide my cringe. This wasn’t my place. This wasn’t my revelation to share—none of them were. Still, it bothered me. I felt like I was keeping a secret from Lark, and I didn’t like it.
“We texted a little yesterday. He is feeling better, but he had to go home to see his mom. He said he’d be back tonight or early tomorrow morning and promised he’d be available for the first day of filming.”