Angel's Pain (20 page)

“Yeah, but I don't know if I can listen in while I'm driving.”

“What if we were walking?” she asked.

He swallowed hard. “I kind of want to stay right here. As long as you're not in pain, it seems silly to make it come back.”

She blinked and nodded. “I don't like the pain, either, Matt. But we can't stay here forever.”

He sighed, nodded. “Okay. Let's try it. Are you strong enough to walk?”

In answer, she nodded and opened her car door. She got out, so he did, too, taking the keys and putting them in a pocket. Then he walked to her side of the car and took hold of her hand. “Just think about me, and I'll focus on you and see what happens. Okay?”

“Okay.” She tightened her hand around his, and together, they began walking.

They'd gone about ten steps when Matt felt it. A pain like nothing he could imagine shot through his head, and with it, his father's voice, booming and angry.

I told you to bring the boy to me. Do as I say, Crisa. Do it now. Or die!

Matt clapped his hands to his eyes, and his attention was driven right out of Crisa's mind. It curled up in a corner of his own brain like a puppy that had been booted across a room.

The pain and the voice vanished immediately. He lowered his hands, lifted his head and opened his eyes.

Crisa was lying on the ground. Her eyes were closed, her face was wet, and her body was shaking visibly, but other than that, she didn't move at all. The pain must have been too much.

Matt knew he had a choice to make, and it wasn't one he liked, but right now, he didn't have to think very hard to make it.

He could put her in the car and try to drive all the way to North Carolina, but if he tried that, he knew two things. He would never be able to drive that far, and she would never survive long enough to get there, even if he could.

He could take her back to Derry. But Derry had been thinking about killing him. And he knew that was still a possibility.

Or he could call his father.

He knew his father would come for him. He didn't know if he would help Crisa or not, though. He also didn't know if he would punish him for leaving in the first place, or believe him when he said he hadn't been given a choice. But he did know his father wouldn't kill him. And he also know his father
could
help Crisa, if he wanted to. He knew that because there really wasn't anything his father couldn't do.

It might mean losing his only chance to see his mom again. But the alternative was to let Crisa die, and he sure as heck couldn't do that.

Sighing, Matt left her lying there in the rain and slogged over to the payphone. He called his father's cell—collect.

On the other end, he heard the tinny sound of a ringing phone, followed by the operator's question.

And then he heard that hateful voice that made him shiver just a little. “Well, it's about time.”

“H
e's not there.”

Reaper crouched in the bushes outside the mansion. It was a stunning place, or had been once. Time had contributed to its gradual decay, but shadows of its long ago glory remained. The tall wrought-iron fence that surrounded the place was punctuated by stone pillars topped with gargoyles that seemed nearly alive. And the gate at the front was locked, though its electronics had probably long since rusted and been rendered useless by wind and rain. The fence marched along both sides of the property, all the way to the cliff at the back, a cliff that overlooked the pounding sea far below.

It was a fortress. Defensible, private, secure.

He couldn't even get close enough to look through the windows without first getting over the fence. And he had no idea whether there were sensors or other methods that might alert Gregor to his presence once he did.

“You can't be sure he's gone,” Dwyer said.

He and Briar were hiding just behind Reaper in the bushes alongside the curving drive, just beyond the gate. Briar said nothing. Reaper sensed that her entire focus was on the house, though whether she was seeking Gregor or Crisa, he couldn't tell.

“Reaper, the CIA—”

“Meaning
you
,” Reaper said.

“Meaning me. Us. We taught Gregor some…techniques to help him in his mission.”

“Having nearly lost my life to him twice now, not to mention the lives of several of my—”

“Puppies,” Briar put in.

Reaper slanted her a stern look but went on without acknowledging her interruption. “Given my experience with him, yes, I know he's latched on to some methods not widely known among our kind. Like how to create that army of drones he uses. They have the strength of vampires, the minds of morons. They obey without question.”

“It's a top secret program. I can't discuss it with you. And that's not what I was talking about, anyway. He can seal off a room or an entire building using advanced electronics, so that mental communication is impossible between vampires inside the room and those outside it. He can turn the force field on and off with a single switch.”

“Yeah. I know about that, too,” Reaper said. “I also know he's not using it now. I can sense the drones, a dozen or so of them, lurking around in there. But there's no sense of Gregor.”

“Could he be in his own quarters, Reaper?” Briar asked. “A place within the house that he's sealed off against mental communication?”

“It feels like he left.” Reaper stared at the road, the path from the house in the distance to the old rusting gates in front of him. Then he laid his palm on the worn dirt driveway. “Just recently. He drove. And he was alone.”

“If you say it, I believe it. I don't pick up any sense of Crisa at all,” she said.

“Anything on the kid?” Dwyer asked.

Reaper and Briar glanced at each other, the exchange so brief, so quick, it went unnoted by Dwyer. But along with it went the mental question
Why the hell is he so worried about the kid?

“No. No hint of the boy.” Reaper frowned at Dwyer.

“You
do
realize he's one of the Chosen, right?”

“Of course I do.”

“So you know he's under our protection.”

Dwyer met Reaper's eyes, held them for a second, then looked away. “He's under mine, too. I like Matt. I don't want to see anything happen to him.”

Reaper noted Briar's frown and the wheels he could see turning behind her eyes. He wanted to pick her brain and was rather surprised by that, then wondered
why
he was surprised. She was smart. Insightful. Wary and cautious and cunning. He valued her opinion, particularly about men who were not to be trusted. God knew she'd seen enough of those to be familiar with the type.

And from the vibe he was picking up right now, he thought she trusted Derrick Dwyer even less than he did. And yet he thought there was a chance Dwyer might actually be concerned about the child.

“It would be a good time to get a look inside, check the place out,” Briar suggested.

“He would know we had been there,” Reaper replied.

“Yeah, but not until he was there, too. And by then it would be too late.”

“And we still won't know where Crisa and the boy are,” Reaper said. “You know damn well he'll never tell us. Not even under torture. He'd rather die.”

“How do we know he even knows where they are?” she demanded.

Reaper sighed, glanced at Dwyer. “All we know for sure is that none of them are there right now. Let's withdraw. I have an idea how we can learn all there is to know about this place without setting foot inside. It'll give us an advantage.”

He rose slightly, turned and started back along the path. Then Briar's hand closed on one shoulder and spun him around so fast he nearly lost his balance. “Crisa is
dying
, you cold son of a bitch. We don't have
time
to worry about research and recon and planning. We need to find her.
Now!”

He studied her face. “You care for her, don't you? You might even love her.”

“Don't be an idiot, Reaper.”

“It's a phone call.” Reaper watched her hand fall from his shoulder down to her side when he said that, so he gripped her shoulders instead. He pulled her a step closer, so there was very little space between them, and he didn't give a damn that Dwyer was watching them with a speculative look in his eyes. He had to make her listen.

“It's nothing more than a phone call, Briar. We get a safe distance away and I make a call. And while I do, you can open your mind and try to get a sense of Crisa. If you can feel her, anywhere, we'll head that way. I promise. I'm not trying to delay this, I'm just trying to make sure we do it right. That's all.”

She closed her eyes, as if searching inwardly for patience. “Okay. All right.”

“She's more important to you than he is, isn't she?” Reaper asked.

“Crisa? More important to me than who?”

“Than Gregor.”

She looked at him and licked her lips. “Look, my wanting to find Gregor is
not
based on my
wanting
Gregor. It's not like that. Never was.”

“But you led me to believe—”

“I didn't lead you anywhere. I just didn't correct your misconceptions.”

He blinked as she kept walking right past him and back along the winding road toward where they had left the car. And after the revelation sank in, he caught up to her again. “So why is it you're so determined to get to him again?”

“None of your damned business.”

“I think it is.”

She stopped walking, the car only a few yards away now, sitting in the shadows beneath a nearly leafless maple tree. Skeletal twigs clacked against each other as the wind picked up.

“I'm not going to discuss it. Not with you, and not with anyone else. So forget it. All right?”

He held her gaze for a long moment, then finally, seeing the determination and—more than that, the pain—in her nearly black eyes, he gave in. “All right.”

He moved past her to the car, opened the passenger door and held it for her. “Get in, relax, and try to pick up on Crisa. I'll drive us just far enough to get out of Gregor's range, in case he gets back here. And then I'll make that call.”

She got in. He went around to the driver's side and got in, and then they both sat there waiting for Dwyer to catch up. She glanced at Reaper while they waited and said, “That call. It's to Eric Marquand, isn't it?”

“How'd you know?”

She shrugged. “Who better to help us know this place's secrets? Hell, he might know things about it that even Gregor hasn't managed to figure out yet.”

“That's pretty much what I'm hoping for.”

She nodded and leaned back against the headrest as Dwyer finally plunked himself down in the backseat.

“Let's go,” she said. “The night's waning.”

 

The car pulled into the rest area, and the headlights went immediately dark. It was low slung and black, and it had the look of evil about it, if a car could look evil. To Matt, it did.

His father opened the door and got out, then stood there with his hands in his pockets, looking at Matt and the woman who lay close to where he was kneeling in the rain.

“Hello, Dad.” Matt got to his feet, though he was tired and frozen clean to the bone, not to mention soaked. “I'm really glad to see you.” And that, he knew, was a lie. But maybe his shielding technique was good enough to fool even his father.

“Matthias.” His father came forward, his pace measured and deliberate. Not fast, but not slow. Sure. It was sure, if it was anything. It spoke of confidence, impatience and a hint of anger. When he got close enough, he put his hands on Matt's shoulders and stared down into his face. “Did that Dwyer bastard hurt you?”

“No. But I'm pretty sure he was planning to. That's why I ran away from him just as soon as I could.”

“You did, huh?”

Matt widened his eyes. “Of
course
I did. That guy
kidnapped
me. It's not like I
wanted
to go with him!”

“Mmm-hmm.” His father glanced at the soaking wet woman in the mud and nodded in her direction. “And this drowned kitten?”

“Her name's Crisa. She's a vampire, like you, Dad. She saved me from Derr—er…Dwyer.”

“But she didn't bring you home. I wonder why?”

“She was going to. She was like…” He paused for a moment, remembering the words he'd rehearsed in his mind over and over again while he'd awaited his father's arrival. “She was all into making sure you weren't being watched, that there wasn't some kind of ambush waiting. She said with Dwyer being CIA and all, we couldn't be too careful. But then before we could come up with a way to make sure, she just…she got really sick. She passed out.”

“I see.” Gregor hunkered down and tipped his head as he studied her.

“She saved me, Dad. And she's been really good to me. Can you help her?”

“I don't know. I don't know for sure what's wrong with her.”

It was a lie. Matt was sure of it.

“Well…will you try?”

His father met his eyes, and then he nodded twice. “Yeah. I'll try. If you'll make me a promise, son.”

“Anything.”

Gregor studied him, grim-faced, for a long moment. “Next time someone tries to take you from me…kill them.”

Matthias felt his eyes go wider and his throat go bone-dry. He tried to swallow and damn near choked. “K-kill them?”

“Yeah. I'll teach you how. There are plenty of ways to kill someone without even needing a weapon. Even when they're big and you're small. I should have taught you a long time ago, Matthias. I'm sorry I didn't. But it's an oversight I intend to remedy.”

“That's okay. I didn't need it. Till now.”

“Yeah. Well, you could have.” Gregor sighed, then slid his arms underneath Crisa and picked her up as he straightened. “Come on, let's get you two into the warm car. We'll get home, and I'll see what I can do for her. All right?”

“You'll really try to help her?”

Pausing, Gregor turned and stared at his son, a deepening frown etched in his brow. “I said I would.”

“Sometimes…you lie.”

“I never—”

“You told me my mother was dead. That was a lie. I could hate you for that. I could. But I won't, because I know you only did it because you were afraid I'd leave you, that I'd run away to go to her.”

Stunned, Gregor shook his head and opened his mouth as if to speak but couldn't seem to find the words.

“If you let Crisa die, I
will
hate you. I'll try to run away every chance I get, until eventually, I'll pull it off. Or if I never do, I'll wait until I grow up and you make me into what you are, and then I'll kill you myself and go find my mother. But I'll hate you, and I'll never stop hating you, if you let her die.”

“What if I can't—”

“I
know
you can. There's nothing you can't do. I know that, because you told me so yourself.” A big sob choked him, and tears welled up in his eyes. He swiped at them with the back of his hand and tried to take a big breath around the lump in his throat, but his voice was tight as he went on. “You save her and let her stay with us, and I'll never leave you again. I'll stay. I'll even try to forgive you for lying about Mom.”

As he stared into Matt's eyes, Gregor seemed to be searching for an answer he couldn't find. It was odd to see realization dawn on his face as he lifted it skyward, and when he lowered his head again, he looked at Matt with a funny kind of admiration and a sort of surrender in his eyes.