Apostate

  Apostate

  Celestial Affairs, Book Three

  Kellan has hidden thousands of years among humans who never knew who or what he really is. His job as an Enforcer for the secretive U’dahmi isolates him even further. He’s used to keeping to the shadows, but when his partner disappears, Kellan must let a mortal woman join him on the hunt. Her newborn psychic skills pose a serious risk—allowing her to see inside his soul—and he’s not sure he wants to stop her.

  An occult dynasty stole almost everything from Tasha: her parents, her career, her friends. All she has left are her newly discovered psychic abilities and the unexpected connection she shares with a vampire-like U’dahmi. Dangerous or not, she’s not going to let him leave her behind.

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  Titles by Frankie Robertson

  The Vinlander’s Saga

  DANGEROUS TALENTS

  FORBIDDEN TALENTS

  DEBTS

  DARK WINTER’S NIGHT

  The Celestial Affairs Novels

  LIGHTBRINGER

  GUARDIAN

  APOSTATE

  SERAPHIM

  Celestial Affairs: The Trust

  BETRAYED BY TRUST

  SEDUCED BY TRUST

  Stand alone titles

  VEILED MIRROR

  NIGHT MOVES: A Short Story Sampler

  Titles written as Francesca Rose

  YETI IN THE MIST:

  A Victorian Secret Romance Novel

  WITH HEART TO HEAR:

  A Victorian Secret Romance Novelette

  Publishers note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Locations and public names are sometimes used to establish atmosphere. Any resemblance to people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is purely coincidental.

  APOSTATE

  © 2019 by Frances R. Gross

  Cover design and interior formatting by Jaycee DeLorenzo, Sweet 'N Spicy Designs

  All rights reserved. No part of this work may be copied, reproduced, transmitted, decompiled, reverse-engineered, translated, recorded, or stored by any means now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the author, except as allowed under United States copyright law and for short excerpts used as part of a review. Thank you for respecting the hard work and intellectual property rights of the author.

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to all the people who helped make this a better book:

  My first readers: Jill Knowles, Caroline Mickelson, and Earl W. Parrish for helping me see both the trees and the forest.

  My editor: Beth Lake at Input Creative Services who tidied up my manuscript and made this a better reading experience for my fans.

  My cover artist and formatter: Jaycee DeLorenzo of Sweet ’N Spicy Designs who demonstrated cheerful professionalism as she created something that’s easy on the eyes.

  And Brian: who is always there, making helpful suggestions and cheering me on.

  For everyone who has wrestled with fear and self-doubt and done the hard thing anyway.

  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

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Thank You!

  Get Your Free Stories!

  About the Author

  Titles by Frankie Robertson

  Chapter One

  The wakizashi slipped between the rogue’s ribs, briefly quenching the violet glow of enspelled steel. The heart stopped immediately and her Essence fled. A powerful wave of magic rolled outward, like a silent clap of thunder. Kellan, protected by his amulet, barely felt it. Very little blood spilled as he withdrew the slim blade from the woman’s body. She hadn’t fought him. Hadn’t tried to run. She’d only said, “Do you trust your masters?” And then she’d died.

  Kellan sighed, regarding Farendiel’s body with sadness. “Rest in peace, my friend.”

  He hadn’t seen Faren since she’d worn a man’s body and they’d helped aristocrats flee Madame Guillotine during the Reign of Terror. He’d seemed solid back then, but according to the warrant issued by the Council, Faren had been talking up the topics of demon possession and mind control on various conspiracy podcasts and her following had doubled over the last year. The Council had reached out to her but she’d refused to stop. Recently she’d sought a larger audience on a syndicated reality TV show. The U’dahmi had taken refuge on the Terrestrial Plane before the Vow of Silence was imposed, but they observed it nevertheless. It was safer that way. Kellan had been sent to silence her before she drew the attention of the Celestials.

  Bentelon, her partner, had been the one to turn her in. Kellan couldn’t imagine how hard that must have been for him. Partners shared their innermost thoughts and feelings. That relationship was part of what kept U’dahmi sane since they’d cut themselves off from the Celestial Choir. Without that mental communication, their kind became unstable. But that hadn’t been Farendiel’s problem. Bentelon, a former Guardian, had partnered her through multiple transitions. She’d just gone nuts, and even with his healing abilities, he hadn’t been able to help her.

  Kellan had sent him away before the execution, partly for his emotional health, partly so he could establish an alibi for the time of death. He’d been her lover in this lifetime as well as her partner, and human law enforcement always looked first and hardest at the spouse. Ben could transition to escape suspicion, but that would mean giving up his successful medical practice.

  Kellan wiped his blade clean on the leg of Farendiel’s pants and sheathed the weapon before returning it to the lid of his guitar case. Openly wearing a wakizashi tucked into his belt would draw unwelcome attention in twenty-first century America. He sent a quick text to the clean-up crew. Humans’ investigative skills had increased over the last one hundred and fifty years, making the crews more and more necessary. While he could cloud the mind of any individual investigator, it was more effective to have a crew modify the scene and potential evidence. Between their work and the fact that there were no connections between Kellan and his target, he had no worries about anything leading back to him. He put on his coat, let himself out of her apartment, and walked away.

  The early December chill kept most people out of the nearby park but Kellan turned in, following one of the paths. Being outside in the crisp clean air soothed his heart. Farendiel had stared him straight in the eye before he’d killed her. She hadn’t run, didn’t try to fight her fate. She’d just said, “Something’s in the wind, Kellan, and we need to pay attention before it’s too late.”

  Her words had unsettled him more than the ranting of an unbalanced mind should. Maybe it was time he quit being an Enforcer.

  An early snow had mostly melted. A few hardy children played on the swing set and slide while t
heir parents supervised. Kellan walked on by, stopping at the duck pond. A fountain sprayed water in an unending arc creating a soothing patter. In a month or so it would freeze into an ice sculpture. Then in spring the Canadian geese would return to nest and begin the next generation. He wouldn’t be here to see it. His dual occupations kept him on the move. He’d be somewhere else, either on a case as a private investigator or on a job for the Council. He missed feeling rooted.

  Damn, he was getting melancholy. He needed to get together with his own partner. He and Jasper had been apart far too long on separate assignments. He pulled out his phone. His call went directly to voicemail—just as his last couple of calls had.

  He didn’t try to mask the frustration in his voice. “I’m in Idaho, but I’ll be heading back to the office after a detour to California. We need a face-to-face. Playing phone tag isn’t cutting it. Call me when you get this.”

  Kellan gathered his guitar case and headed back to his rental car with a little more spring in his step. This time of year, coastal California offered a combination of gray misty mornings and sunny afternoons in the 60s. The restless ocean energized him. That, and seeing the progress that Monique had made with Tasha, would lift his spirits.

  Kellan held his breath and watched, standing with Monique a little apart from where Tasha concentrated, head bent forward. Kellan wished he could see her face, but her dark shoulder-length hair concealed her fine features.

  Monique was the most knowledgeable of the U’dahmi regarding the Fey—those bearing the mixed blood of Gaians and humans. That’s why he’d brought Tasha to her six months ago. Monique was the only one of their kind he trusted to teach the young Fey woman how to use her natural gifts. The gifts she’d rejected until recently.

  Today’s “classroom” was an hour and a half east of the southern California coast in a wilderness of giant boulders, an hour’s hike north of Alpine off of I-8 and well away from curious eyes and security cameras. Bright December sun glared off the rocks but the breeze was cool, chilling the sweat on his neck as he waited to witness what progress his Fey had made in learning her long-neglected abilities.

  His Fey. Kellan winced. When had he started thinking of Tasha as his? He’d whisked her into hiding six months ago, promising her sister that he’d protect her from the Golden Path, the occult organization that had already kidnapped her once. But that didn’t make her his. She wasn’t his Fey, his lover, his anything. She couldn’t be, not until the U’dahmi Council decided what to do with her. And probably not even then.

  That’s why he’d kept away—as much as he could. He should have just left her with Monique to learn what she needed, but he hadn’t been able to stay away. He had more than enough work to keep both him and Jasper busy, but he’d made time to check in between cases, to admire her progress and make sure she was all right.

  He’d fed from her just the once six months ago, just a few tablespoons of blood. That wasn’t enough to create a connection between them. At least it wouldn’t have been if she’d been only human. But when his life had been on the line he’d sipped her life force, a vital essence that was richer than any he’d ever encountered. He’d been too weak at the time to prevent her from seeing what he was.

  This was why the Council forbade contact between U’dahmi and the descendants of Gaians and Celestials. Fey and Progeny were too perceptive. When she’d saved his life by offering her blood, she’d seen in his mind that he belonged to a group of Celestials who had hidden themselves among the humans to avoid taking sides in the war between Celestials and Apostates. And now that knowledge could cost her life.

  Tasha laid her hand on a huge boulder that didn’t have any others resting on it. A few seconds later sand began sifting between her fingers, flowing down over the curved surface like a gritty fountain, falling in a ring around the base.

  Monique put her hand on Tasha’s shoulder. “Stop.”

  The flow of sand slowed, trickling off to nothing. The top third of the boulder was gone.

  “Well done,” Kellan said. He’d seen her dissolve smaller stones into dust, but this had been a much larger undertaking.

  “That was just the warm-up.” Tasha crouched beside the pile of sand below the rock she’d touched and grinned as if she knew a secret.

  Her impish expression made him smile back. Her dark gray eyes crinkled with satisfaction as she lifted a dagger of stone out of the sand. He hadn’t even noticed her dragging her fingers through the granules until she stood and threw it in one smooth motion. The knife struck a twisted tree with a solid thunk, its point buried halfway in the rough bark. Tasha carefully retrieved the blade then presented her creation to him.

  He examined the weapon. Well-balanced, the pointed blade gleamed, reflecting the light, but the hilt bore a fine cross-hatching to aid the wielder’s grip. Delicate, thoughtful work. “Impressive.” He held the knife out, hilt first. “When did you learn to throw knives?”

  “Keep it.” She held up a hand warding off the knife. “In college. I dated a guy who worked summers at a Renaissance Fair. He taught me.”

  Kellan dismissed the unexpected frisson of jealousy that rippled through him. “Are you still in touch?”

  Tasha gave him a look that asked, Are you serious? “I’m not in touch with anyone from my old life anymore. Besides, he took up with a Tavern Wench so I cut him loose.”

  “There’s more.” Monique’s smile brimmed with excitement, but Tasha frowned and shook her head.

  “I’d rather not.”

  “Skills don’t improve unless you practice them.” Monique’s words had the sound of an oft-repeated lesson.

  Tasha’s jaw tightened. She walked over to a jumble of rocks and into the narrow shadows they cast.

  She disappeared.

  Kellan blinked, and then stared at where he knew Tasha had to be. “I thought the Fey had only the four elements to command,” he said.

  Tasha stepped out of the shadows. “My dad was right,” Tasha said, stepping into the light again. “Earth is my element to command. But it seems I have an affinity for Darkness, too.” Her tone was light, but he detected a slight waver in her voice, as if what she’d done unsettled her. He’d have to ask her about it later.

  “She’s come a long way in the last few months. She can shape earth and use Shadow in a way I’ve never seen before,” Monique added.

  Tasha shrugged away the praise. “Yeah, but I’m still afraid of the dark.”

  Kellan joined Tasha and Monique at the base of the pile of boulders. “Still?” He’d have thought that control like hers would banish that fear.

  Tasha shrugged. “It calls to me. Whispers. I can’t make out what it’s saying, but it can’t be good.”

  “That doesn’t mean it’s bad, either,” Monique said. “Dark and Light balance each other.”

  “Maybe,” Tasha said. “But I don’t think the Dark sees it that way.”

  Kellan exchanged a glance with Monique. “Let’s go home.” There was no point in arguing about it now.

  Not much was said as they hiked over the rough terrain back to Kellan’s rental car. When it was in sight, Monique said, “I call shotgun!”

  Tasha laughed.

  “What’s so funny?” Monique asked.

  “I just think it’s hysterical that a multi-thousand-year-old being is calling shotgun like I did when I was ten.”

  Monique grinned as she got into Kellan’s SUV. “Yeah, but I got the front seat, didn’t I?”

  Ten minutes later Kellan saw in the rearview mirror that Tasha had fallen asleep. The curvy road swooped through the canyons so he caught Monique’s hand and put it on his neck so they could communicate silently while he kept both hands on the wheel.

  **She’s made a lot of progress in the last few weeks. Congratulations.**

  **It wasn’t me. She almost gave up about three weeks ago. She stopped trying to do any of the exercises I’d devised and was talking about returning to Phoenix and seeing if she could get her old job back.
I was beginning to doubt if I actually knew anything about Fey gifts at all.**

  Alarm tightened Kellan’s hands on the wheel. The Golden Path still wanted Tasha for the Fey power they could siphon from her. If they knew what she could do with Shadow they’d want her even more. Jared had done a lot to cripple the finances of the Arizona branch but the international organization still had a long and wide reach. **What changed?**

  **First, she started sketching some new designs.** Monique mentally showed him what she remembered of Tasha’s drawings. They were more than fashion renderings. They were dark and twisted fantasies surrounded by barely discernable eyes and mouths. **Then she started manipulating the Dark. As she gained command of that, she grew in her control of Earth.**

  **Is this Dark thing a Fey gift?**

  **No. At least not one I’ve ever heard of.**

  **What does it mean when she says it calls to her?**

  **I just told you I don’t know anything about this. And since I haven’t fed from her, her mind is mostly closed to me.**