Storm of Visions by Christina Dodd

five thirty, when the cocktail party began, they wouldn’t be allowed in. Those were the rules.” Caleb examined the faces around the table. One by one, Samuel, Aaron, Tyler, Charisma and Isabelle picked up their forks and ate their desserts with varying degrees of gusto and murmured appreciation.
    None of them looked ill, and none of them looked brokenhearted. They had accepted the deaths this afternoon as a tragedy, but their real concern was for themselves and how the situation would impact them. But then . . . only one of the Chosen Ones had known the victims; that was Jacqueline, and she had never pretended a fondness for the people who had so often taken her mother away from her.
    For all that he suspected everyone, he could not see how any of the other six, so new to this world of protection and heroics, could have the knowledge and the control to bring about such a hideous offense. “Those have been the rules since the Gypsy Travel Agency incorporated forty-nine years ago.”
    “This trifle is most excellent, McKenna. Thank you for your efforts in such a difficult situation, and you, too, Martha.” Irving put down his fork after a few small bites and addressed the group. “When I was the director, I always demanded a prompt arrival, and that tradition has thankfully continued.”
    Jacqueline explained to the table, “Until Irving arrived, the Gypsy Travel Agency was run by the Chosen Ones themselves. It teetered on the brink of bankruptcy and disaster, and Irving gave them—us—financial solvency.”
    “And a few badly needed rules,” Irving said. “They were mavericks, all of them.”
    The new Chosen examined Irving, in his dark suit and red power tie, and none of them seemed surprised.
    Irving turned back to Caleb. “How do you know who left and who arrived?”
    “I accessed the records, which are kept off-site. You can see the video, Irving. You can see multiple views of every entrance and exit.” Caleb held Irving’s gaze.
    Irving nodded reluctantly. He knew technology well enough to know that video could be tampered with, but probably not so quickly and/or so thoroughly, and he was a smart old guy. Like Caleb, he had confidence in no one, but he had met Caleb the first day the young man landed in New York City. If there was trust to be had, Caleb had his.
    “The explosion occurred at six p.m., a half hour after the cocktail party had begun.” Caleb looked around the table. “An ominous hour, six.”
    “Why?” Aaron asked.
    Like a college girl, Charisma waved her hand in the air. Her bracelets jangled and her tattoos were vibrant with color. “I know! I know! I read it in When the World Was Young: A History of the Chosen Ones . Am I the only one who did the required reading?”
    Depending on their characters, the Chosen Ones looked guilty or aggravated.
    Charisma finished, “Because six is the devil’s number.”
    Tight-lipped with irritation, Samuel said, “I sincerely doubt the devil had anything to do with this disaster.”
    Caleb was startled to discover Charisma could do irritation at least as impressively as Samuel. Her black and purple hair stood up like a wolf’s ruff, and she rapped on the table with her knuckles. “Mr. Faa, do you not understand what and who we are? We are the bulwark between the darkness and the light, and the devil is exactly who we stand against.”
    “If the devil is behind this, then why wasn’t it completely successful? Why aren’t we dead? And in fact, why doesn’t the devil just take us out himself?” Samuel was angry as only a man trapped in an untenable situation can be.
    Charisma showed no patience with his interrogation. “Because Lucifer isn’t allowed to intervene personally. It’s against the rules.”
    “Whose rules?” Samuel demanded.
    She put her fists on her waist. “Whose do you think?”
    Aaron gave a laugh that quickly changed to a cough. Caleb glanced at Jacqueline and found her eyes full of amusement, an amusement she shared