Read Online The Prophecy (Daughters of the People Series Book 1) by Lucy Varna - Free Book Online
Authors: Lucy Varna
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woman ever tempted him this
much? Of course, he could never act on that temptation. His life was in
Connecticut with Amelia and his job, hers was in Georgia at the IECS, and ne’er
the twain shall meet.
Unless he took
Maya up on her offer.
James blew out a
sigh. His mind was going around in unproductive circles, like a puppy chasing
its tail. That’s about what he felt like right then, a puppy with an intriguing
new toy dangling just out of its reach.
The realization
that he might want the toy didn’t really help bring it into his grasp.
He shook his
head clear and focused on the photographs in his lap. This, at least, he
understood. Women? Never. Dead languages in forgotten scripts were far easier
to deal with.
* * *
Maya spent
nearly three frustrating weeks gaining permission to take the artifacts out of
Sweden. The attempted theft of all, and the actual theft of some, had set the
entire heritage bureaucracy on its collective ear. It seemed every bureaucrat
and politician in the country wanted a say in how the remaining artifacts would
be handled. She certainly felt as if she’d spoken to all of them, personally or
by phone, or if not them, then a myriad array of receptionists, secretaries,
assistants, and junior bureaucrats.
With Dr.
Lindberg’s backing and the sterling reputation of the IECS behind her, it was
difficult for resistance to her request to linger, even among those insisting
the artifacts should remain in Sweden. With permission gained at last, she
personally oversaw packaging and ensured that the whole was shipped directly to
the IECS via a trusted private courier. No chances would be taken with those
precious items.
The Lindbergs
were sorry to see her go, they assured her, and made her promise to visit
again, with “that lovely girl, Dani.” Maya had grown fond of them as well and
made a note in her calendar to plan a future trip with Dierdre. Her daughter
would love the countryside, and maybe they could spend time exploring and just
hanging out.
Maya’s plane
touched down in Atlanta on what felt like the most sweltering day of the year.
She pushed her way through security, avoided the groping hands of a lothario
disguised as a TSA agent, and climbed gratefully into her garaged car for the
trip home.
It wasn’t a bad
drive in spite of the heavy traffic, all of which seemed to be going northeast
with her. Halfway home, the sky opened up and a thunderstorm burst out. The
rain slowed the traffic down only slightly. Cars continued to whiz by her at
upwards of eighty miles per hour, weaving in and out of traffic without the use
of turn signals or apparently any concern for the proximity to other vehicles.
Driving in the
Greater Atlanta area wasn’t for sissies.
The IECS
compound was located more than two hours from the airport by car. The Daughters
had settled in the area during the French and Indian War, living among the
native tribes in relative harmony and even fighting alongside them on occasion.
No one loved a good fight like the Daughters.
The natives had
eventually been driven out. Most of the Daughters had remained on the land,
gaining legal title to it under new governments as they rose, and adopting an
outward face that was compatible with the social mores of each passing era.
Underneath, though, they were still the proud, fierce warrior women the
Cherokees had befriended.
The compound
itself had been built over time. What had begun as a pre-Revolutionary War
village had developed into a small town serving as a gateway to the IECS
campus. The inhabitants were largely Daughters and Sons, with exceptions
granted rarely. Property was never sold or bequeathed to anyone outside of
family. Outsiders posed too big of a security risk, for one, and too many
immortal Daughters lived and worked in or around the compound. Mortal humans
tended to notice when someone didn’t age as she should. The Daughters had learned
how to deal with that long ago, but it was nice to have a place
much? Of course, he could never act on that temptation. His life was in
Connecticut with Amelia and his job, hers was in Georgia at the IECS, and ne’er
the twain shall meet.
Unless he took
Maya up on her offer.
James blew out a
sigh. His mind was going around in unproductive circles, like a puppy chasing
its tail. That’s about what he felt like right then, a puppy with an intriguing
new toy dangling just out of its reach.
The realization
that he might want the toy didn’t really help bring it into his grasp.
He shook his
head clear and focused on the photographs in his lap. This, at least, he
understood. Women? Never. Dead languages in forgotten scripts were far easier
to deal with.
* * *
Maya spent
nearly three frustrating weeks gaining permission to take the artifacts out of
Sweden. The attempted theft of all, and the actual theft of some, had set the
entire heritage bureaucracy on its collective ear. It seemed every bureaucrat
and politician in the country wanted a say in how the remaining artifacts would
be handled. She certainly felt as if she’d spoken to all of them, personally or
by phone, or if not them, then a myriad array of receptionists, secretaries,
assistants, and junior bureaucrats.
With Dr.
Lindberg’s backing and the sterling reputation of the IECS behind her, it was
difficult for resistance to her request to linger, even among those insisting
the artifacts should remain in Sweden. With permission gained at last, she
personally oversaw packaging and ensured that the whole was shipped directly to
the IECS via a trusted private courier. No chances would be taken with those
precious items.
The Lindbergs
were sorry to see her go, they assured her, and made her promise to visit
again, with “that lovely girl, Dani.” Maya had grown fond of them as well and
made a note in her calendar to plan a future trip with Dierdre. Her daughter
would love the countryside, and maybe they could spend time exploring and just
hanging out.
Maya’s plane
touched down in Atlanta on what felt like the most sweltering day of the year.
She pushed her way through security, avoided the groping hands of a lothario
disguised as a TSA agent, and climbed gratefully into her garaged car for the
trip home.
It wasn’t a bad
drive in spite of the heavy traffic, all of which seemed to be going northeast
with her. Halfway home, the sky opened up and a thunderstorm burst out. The
rain slowed the traffic down only slightly. Cars continued to whiz by her at
upwards of eighty miles per hour, weaving in and out of traffic without the use
of turn signals or apparently any concern for the proximity to other vehicles.
Driving in the
Greater Atlanta area wasn’t for sissies.
The IECS
compound was located more than two hours from the airport by car. The Daughters
had settled in the area during the French and Indian War, living among the
native tribes in relative harmony and even fighting alongside them on occasion.
No one loved a good fight like the Daughters.
The natives had
eventually been driven out. Most of the Daughters had remained on the land,
gaining legal title to it under new governments as they rose, and adopting an
outward face that was compatible with the social mores of each passing era.
Underneath, though, they were still the proud, fierce warrior women the
Cherokees had befriended.
The compound
itself had been built over time. What had begun as a pre-Revolutionary War
village had developed into a small town serving as a gateway to the IECS
campus. The inhabitants were largely Daughters and Sons, with exceptions
granted rarely. Property was never sold or bequeathed to anyone outside of
family. Outsiders posed too big of a security risk, for one, and too many
immortal Daughters lived and worked in or around the compound. Mortal humans
tended to notice when someone didn’t age as she should. The Daughters had learned
how to deal with that long ago, but it was nice to have a place
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