Catherine Spangler - [Sentinel 02] - Touched By Fire (v5.0) (html) (28 page)

“We’re a freaking bunch of Boy Scouts,” Julia commented. “All prepared.”

Kara smiled. “You get used to it after awhile.”

“Not planning to. It’s not on my syllabus,” Julia replied. “I’ll be glad to forget all of this and return to Houston, hopefully very soon. Assuming I still have a job.”

Marla could relate. Earlier this morning, it had been tough explaining to her boss that she needed an indeterminate amount of time off. She’d used a family emergency as an excuse, but hadn’t provided any details. It was a good thing she’d been there five years and her work record was solid; otherwise she’d have been job hunting when she returned. Her existence in Houston seemed like a lifetime ago. Hard to believe it had only been ten days since she sat next to Luke in the Red Lion Pub, irrevocably altering her life.

“We’ll take two cars,” Adam said. “Julia, Barrie, and David, you’re with me. Luke, you and Marla go with Damien and Kara.” He looked around one more time, deadly serious. “Walk in Light.”

The hunt was on.

 

 

IT was a nasty day, sunless and gray, and with a light drizzle that dropped the temperature and made things considerably less pleasant. Huddled in her jacket, Marla strolled along Commerce Street, grateful for the cheap umbrella they’d stopped and bought on the way downtown.

With the bad weather, many office workers weren’t venturing out for lunch, which cut down on the congestion. There were quite a few construction sites in the area, but very few workmen. Even the number of street people aimlessly wandering about appeared low.

The Sentinel teams were working a grid pattern, first heading east to west on the streets with the most buildings they’d visualized: Young, Jackson, Commerce, and Main. Then they’d work the south/north cross streets.

Marla and Luke were doing opposite sides of Commerce, remaining parallel to one another as they walked, keeping their senses open for Belian energy. She was on the north side of the street, which provided a little more protection from the wind, but not much. It was cold and damp and generally miserable.

Thoughts of the Belian and its ugly words and threats had her wound tight inside. But memories of lovemaking with Luke this morning and seeing him right across the street helped keep her grounded.

There was no doubt in her mind that it had been more than just sex, for both of them. Luke might not want involvement, but she knew he cared for her. It was in the glow in his eyes when he looked at her, in how he touched her, and stroked inside her, and held her afterward.

She might not be experienced, and she might not be able to pick up shielded Sentinel emotions very clearly, but she could feel warmth and affection from him. He cared, damn it, even if he would never act on it—and even if she was too proud to grovel. Love couldn’t be forced.

Enough,
she told herself. She needed to focus on the most urgent matter at hand, the Belian. Glancing ahead to the right, she saw a Dallas landmark and every woman’s secret fantasy shopping place—Neiman Marcus. She knew it was the original store and took up the entire end of the block fronting Ervay Street, with entrances on both Commerce and Main. She stopped at the traffic light, glanced over at Luke, who looked back at her.

She tucked her umbrella against her shoulder and slid her right hand into her coat pocket, felt the cold reassurance of her Tomcat. Her radio phone was in her left hand, with the mode set for Luke’s phone. The light turned green, and she crossed and walked alongside the grand old department store. When this was over, she would treat herself to a shopping spree here.

She strolled along, surprised at how few people were out, although it was past lunchtime and there was more construction than businesses along this stretch. Then she felt it—faint tendrils of a dark ugliness, snaking toward her. It was growing stronger, fouler, starting to creep inside her.

She raised the phone, depressed the radio button, and spoke into the speaker. “Luke, I feel something. It’s been here. The energy is growing stronger with every step. It’s—” She halted as she was broadsided by an overwhelming wave of depravity and evil.
What the
—
?

Realization twisted through her with a terrifying jolt as she realized she wasn’t feeling residual energy, but . . . She looked at the man walking toward her just as he jolted in recognition and his gaze locked on her.

She stared back at the Belian.

 

 

JULIA and Adam were working Main Street. Actually, he was working it and she was in the Roma Express restaurant right across the street from Neiman Marcus, acting as main dispatch for messages and information among the teams. She couldn’t walk the distances, and the wet weather made her leg ache more than usual. She hated being so useless, but accepted that sitting it out was better than bogging down the investigation.

So she waited for Adam to swing back by, sipping bottled water and absently rubbing her leg. She had an extremely active mind, but trying to work through events of the past few days was an overload right now.

Deciding to make some notes for her next linear algebra exam, she set her purse on the table and rummaged through it for the small spiral notebook she carried. As she pulled it out, a photo fell from it. She picked it up, saw it was a picture taken of her and Marla at the last family Christmas get together. She started to slide it back in when the gray void dropped around her so suddenly, the picture fell from her fingers.

The vision that flashed in her mind was vivid—and terrifying. She was struggling to her feet and reaching for her cane before the images were fully faded. She had to get to Marla, fast. She moved as rapidly as she could, fumbling for the radio phone as she left the restaurant.

Panic edging her on, she pushed the talk button and continued across the street toward Neiman Marcus. “Adam, come quickly! Commerce Street side of Neiman Marcus. Marla’s in trouble.”

She yanked open the fancy glass door via the huge stylized metal
N
. Her vision had been coming out of the store onto Commerce Street, so she figured going through it was probably her fastest route.

Adam’s voice came though the speaker. “I’m on my way. You stay right where you are. Do not attempt to get to Marla. Do you hear me? Julia?”

She slid the phone into her coat pocket and increased her pace, ignoring her screaming leg. She’d been present in her vision, and somehow knew she had to be there. Besides, her sister was in grave danger. No way was she going to wait it out.

Fear, bone chilling, breath stopping, wrapped around her.

Marla
. Dear God, she hoped she got there in time.

 

 

“YOU!” he said.

Marla took a step back.

He was a little above average height, greyhound slender. He had dark brown hair and brown eyes, and wore a black trench coat over an expensive navy suit. He carried an open black umbrella in one hand and a large handled case, the kind a salesman might use, in the other.

He radiated malevolence so intense, she couldn’t believe the few people moving around them could be so unaffected. Recognition filled his soulless eyes. “Marla,” he crooned.

Nausea rose swiftly, and she battled to keep her wits about her. “I’m afraid you have mistaken me for someone else.” She took another step back.

In a burst of speed, he closed the distance, dropping the umbrella and case to grab her arms. “Oh, no, Marla. I’d know your energy anywhere. I knew I’d find you.”

Oh, God
. His essence was pure evil, his emotions a cauldron of hatred and madness threatening to suck her into an inescapable nightmare. “No!” She tried to jerk free, discovering he had the same inhuman strength as a Sentinel.

With a feral sound, he twisted her arm painfully. “You can’t escape me. I have to punish you.”

She couldn’t reach her gun; his hold was too strong.
Think, Marla, think!
She opened her mouth to scream, found her vocal cords frozen. Tried to jolt back, found her body becoming sluggish and uncoordinated.
No!

His eyes glittered cruelly. “You see Marla, there’s no escape from me. I am too powerful, too clever. I’ll have to put my other plans on hold—temporarily—while I administer your punishment.”

No, no, no!
Her mind screamed denial, her body stumbling toward him when he gave a vicious wrench. She fell against him, trying to cringe away. He shook her like she was a rag doll. Then he slung her against the building and stared at her with a satisfied sneer.
Why wasn’t anyone coming to her aid
?

“I’m going to enjoy this. I—” His head suddenly snapped to the side, and his breath hissed out. He turned, shoving her so hard, she tumbled to the sidewalk.

She looked up to see Luke charging them, gun in hand. The Belian whirled and made a gesture. Luke’s arm jerked sideways, the shot going wild. The Belian leaped at him, and Marla saw the flash of a knife plunging into Luke’s right side. She screamed.

Luke punched the Belian in the face with his left fist. The Belian fell back, but then charged, ramming his head into Luke’s abdomen. Luke slammed against the concrete wall. The Belian stabbed him again.

Luke’s gun fell to the ground. Blood stained his leather jacket; his right arm hung limp. The Belian raised the knife, but Luke punched him again, sent him sprawling. Then he pulled out his second gun with his left hand. In a light-speed move, the Belian rolled and leaped to his feet. He tore a cement trash can from its base and hurled it against Luke before he could fire the gun.

To Marla’s shock, he went down. “Luke!” she tried to scream, but it came out like a hoarse croak. She tried to move, but her body was still like rubber. She looked around frantically. “Help!” she called out, her voice a harsh rasp. “Someone, please help us!”

But the few people around appeared unwilling to get involved. Some had cell phones out; she guessed they were calling 911, but knew help would be way too late. Luke shoved the trash can away and was struggling to get up. The entire right side of his coat was now a dark stain.

The Belian stalked toward him, gripping the knife.
Luke!
Marla managed to stand, still sluggish but once again in control of her body. Adrenaline and desperation propelled her forward, gave her the strength to charge the Belian. She leaped on his back, wrapping her arms around his neck and jerking him backward. He stumbled, caught off guard by surprise and her weight, which probably equaled his.

He sliced his knife across her arm. She cried out, her grip loosening. In an instant, he grabbed her other arm and wrenched her sideways and in front of him. His hold across her chest was like an iron band. Luke was on his feet now, but halted when the Belian whipped the knife across her throat. “Try it Sentinel, and your bitch conductor dies.”

Marla clawed at the arm across her chest and tried to buck free, until she felt the blade of the knife press against her throat, felt pain and the warm flow of blood.

“You will be still,” the Belian hissed, or I will cut deeper and deeper until you choke on your own blood, you whore.”

She stilled, horror dulling her wits.
What now?
Luke took a staggering step toward them, but stopped when the Belian cut a little deeper, and Marla gasped. “Not another step, Sentinel. I will slit her throat from ear to ear if you do.”

Luke stood there, deathly pale, rage and determination burning in his eyes. He was still bleeding, and the stain on his coat spread; she could see he was growing weaker. She had to do something, but what?

Where were the others?
Please, God,
she prayed,
send help
—
and fast
.

NINETEEN

HER heart hammering from fear and exertion, Julia finally made it through the store. Gasping, she pushed through the heavy glass door, stepped onto the sidewalk fronting Commerce Street. Hearing raised voices, she looked right—and froze in horror.

About twenty feet away, a man in a black trench coat stood with his back to her. There was a woman in front of him, struggling. He made a jerky motion, and she stopped moving. Julia could see the wild mass of chestnut curls and the brown jacket, and knew then he had Marla. Just like her vision had shown. Sensing the evil radiating from the man, she knew who—or what—it was.

The light mist coated her glasses, making it harder to see. She switched her cane to her left hand, started to reach for her gun. But she couldn’t shoot him without shooting Marla. As she eased closer, she saw Luke standing on the other side of the Belian, pale, shaky, and bleeding heavily. No help there.

She heard the Belian say, “Not another step, Sentinel. I will slit her throat from ear to ear if you do.”

The past rushed at her.
“Don’t resist me, Julia, or I’ll kill you,” William Bennett said as he rammed himself into her. Not that she could have fought at that point
—
he’d beaten her too badly . . .

Feeling a sense of déjà vu and hopelessness, she wondered if history was destined to repeat itself, only reversing the roles this time, with Marla the victim and Julia the observer.

No!
she thought fiercely.
It is not going to happen again.
But what could she do? She couldn’t use her gun, and she had no other weapons. Wait . . .

She looked down at her cane. It had been her grandfather’s, and it was solid oak. Hefting it in her hand, she eased closer to the Belian.

 

 

“IT’S not her you want, it’s me.” Luke’s voice was strong despite the fact he was swaying on his feet. “Let her go, and you can do whatever you want to me. I won’t fight you.”

He took a step closer. With a furious shriek, the Belian whipped his hand out and down, and blinding pain ripped through Marla’s thigh. She almost blacked out, barely managed to hang on to consciousness. Then she felt the knife return to her throat.

“Back off, Sentinel, or I’ll stab her again.”

Luke stood still, his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “You can’t have us both. The minute you kill her, it’s over. You have to choose one of us.”

His gaze shifted suddenly beyond the Belian, but quickly swung back. If Marla hadn’t been focusing so desperately on him, she might not have noticed the quick movement, the brief flare of his eyes. Something was going on behind the Belian.

“You’re wrong.” The Belian moved backward, dragging her with him. She tried to dig in her heels. He jerked her with a snarl, and she felt the burn of the knife. She stopped resisting.

The Belian pressed his foot against the business case on the sidewalk, dragged it closer. “I have bombs. I can blow up this city. And I still have your whore.” Another slash of the knife laid open a cut on her other thigh, and she cried out, despite her resolve not to.
God, it hurt.

“See?” he gloated. “I can cut her again and again. I can slice her up right in front of you, and there’s not a damned thing you can do about it.”

Feeling encroaching hysteria, Marla fought not to lose it totally. She couldn’t fall apart—she had to remain clearheaded until she found an opening to do something. She kept her focus on Luke. He was her anchor in this madness.

Again, his gaze shifted, and then he looked at the Belian. “Better watch your step with her. She’s a biter, aren’t you Marla?”

A biter? What
—
?
A burst of insight through her panicked mind told her he wanted her to distract the Belian.

“I am not amused,” the Belian hissed. “Get on the ground, facedown, Sentinel. Now!” He moved the knife in another lightning slash, this one to her left arm.

She didn’t hesitate, didn’t let the pain distract her. She grabbed his knife arm with both hands, twisted down, and bit his wrist as hard as she could. He yelped. She heard a loud thwack, felt a blow against her leg. The leg gave out and she stumbled. Oddly enough, so did the Belian.

Things happened really fast then. The Belian collapsed on top of her, taking them both down on the hard cement. She felt the cold blade of the knife pressing against her cheek; tried to heave the Belian off her.

He was screaming obscenities and threats, and she felt his arm shifting, his hand tightening on the knife. Not in this lifetime. She was squirming into a position to bite him again, when suddenly, he was jerked off her. Gun shots exploded over her head.

Dazed, she tried to move toward Luke, but pain screamed through her stabbed leg. She twisted and saw the Belian in a heap a few feet away. She angled back around. Standing over her, Luke lowered his left arm, a gun in his hand.

He looked down at her, his skin ashen. “You . . . okay?”

“Yes,” she said hoarsely.

“Good.” He collapsed to his knees, swaying. Then he sagged against the building.

“Luke!” She tried to reach him, slipping in the blood and rain. She couldn’t get her legs to work, but she scrabbled close enough to take his hand. Felt a faint squeeze.

Then Adam was there, kneeling beside him. “Good job. We’ll take it from here.”

Luke closed his eyes and went completely limp.
“Luke!”
Marla screamed it this time, trying to sit up. “Luke, hold on!”

“Be still. You’re injured.” Adam pushed her back down. “Kara’s here now. We’ll take care of him. It will be all right.”

Marla kept her grip on Luke’s hand, refusing to let go, trying to send her own energy through their link, willing him to live. But he just lay there, still and gray.

“Marla!” Julia stepped into her field of vision. “Thank God you’re . . .” She choked on a sob.

She was alive.
Marla really felt the pain then, oblivion trying to claim her, but she fought it. Her sister was here, and Luke would be okay. He had to be. There was no other option.

 

 

JULIA dropped awkwardly to her knees, her leg screaming in protest. She slid her arms around Marla. The cut at her throat appeared shallow, but she was bleeding heavily from several wounds. “I’m here, Marla, I’m here.” She heard sirens growing louder; down the block, she saw Barrie and David running toward them.

Marla looked up at her through pain-glazed eyes. “Luke,” she whispered. “Don’t let him die.” Her gaze returned to his still form.

Kara was kneeling beside him, applying pressure to his upper chest, while Adam worked on the larger side wound. Light glowed around his hands. Damien was standing behind them, his steel gaze fixed on the Belian as he intoned something in a strange, beautiful language.

“They’re doing everything they can for him,” Julia said. “It’s all right. I’ve got you.” She rested her check against her sister’s hair, her tears mingling with the rain. “I’ve got you.”

She was swept back into another memory . . .
William Bennett had stumbled off into the night, leaving Julia a battered, bloody mess. Marla, seriously injured with a ruptured spleen, broken bones, and a concussion, still somehow managed to inch her way over to Julia. She collapsed beside her, throwing an arm around her. “It’s okay, Jules,” she mumbled through a broken jaw. “It’s all right. I’ve got you.”

Full circle,
Julia thought, watching the ambulance roar up Commerce Street.
Full circle
.

 

 

THEY kept Marla in Parkland Hospital overnight for observation and to transfuse her with a unit of blood. Luke was sent to the critical care unit. He had a collapsed lung, his liver had been nicked and he’d lost a lot of blood, but he would recover. Barrie was watching over him. Damien and Kara had already returned to their home in Zorro.

Marla had Julia, her guardian angel, and the most amazing woman she knew. She’d learned that Julia’s precognition had guided her to come out of Neiman Marcus behind the Belian. She’d brought it down with her cane, swinging at its knees, a weak point for every human body. Then she’d gotten out of Luke’s way.

Luke, despite his injuries, had lifted the Belian off Marla, flung it to the ground, and shot it. After that, while Adam and Kara stabilized Luke, Damien had performed some sort of Belian expulsion, sending the Belian’s soul to Saturn for “rehabilitation.”

All of that was a blur for Marla. She did remember Julia being present throughout her treatment, which included too many stitches to count. And Julia had been there through questioning by the Dallas police. Adam had also been there for that. He was handling the police and media and any loose ends that might raise suspicious questions.

Julia spent the night in a chair next to Marla’s bed, and they both looked pretty frightening when Marla was finally released midmorning. She’d have to see a doctor in Houston to be sure she didn’t have permanent damage from the knife wounds inflicted by the Belian, and she faced physical therapy. She’d also need some sessions with Dr. Jackson, since she had a new episode of post-traumatic stress to work through. And wasn’t that great?

Because of the stab wound in her thigh, she would be using crutches for the next few weeks. The floor nurse wanted to put her in a wheel chair for the traditional discharge ride to the main entrance, but Marla evaded her and escaped on a back elevator.

She wanted to see Luke before she and Julia returned to Houston. Thankfully, his condition was no longer critical, and he’d been moved to regular room. Marla heard Barrie talking before she reached his doorway.

But when she peeked into the room, her gaze went straight to Luke. It was a shock to see him laid up in a hospital bed, with tubes and IVs running into him, although Adam had told her Sentinels healed very quickly. A lump formed in her throat. She’d come so close to losing him.

He was propped up in the bed, wearing the de rigueur hospital gown. His hair was loose around his face, and his eyes were half-closed. On the table beside him, there was a small bouquet of flowers, with a connected Mylar balloon proclaiming “
It’s a Boy!
” in bright blue letters. Marla guessed that must have been the current special in the gift shop, or evidence of Barrie’s quirky sense of humor.

“My favorite part was seeing that black soul whip off to Saturn,” Barrie was saying.

“Hopefully without you getting rushed to the hospital afterward,” Luke said wryly. “Let’s not forget that common hazard.”

“I
know
that.” Barrie’s voice had an “oh, please” tone.

Suddenly sensing Marla’s presence, Luke turned his head. Their gazes met, held. And she wished things could be different. Wished she could be the woman to convince him to take a chance, wished they had a future.

Perched in the only chair, Barrie looked around. “Hey, Marla. Look at you. You’re up and about.”

Marla hobbled into the room. “I had real motivation. Nurse Ratched is after me.”

Barrie looked confused. “Who?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Marla stared at Luke.

“Uh, I’ll just leave you two alone.” Barrie stood. “Time for another snack anyway. I’ll bring you something, too, bro. Be back soon.”

“Sure,” Luke said, his gaze never wavering from Marla.

As Barrie left, Marla swung over to the bed on her crutches. Every movement pulled painfully on stitches and bruised muscles, but she didn’t care. Luke was her sole focus. “Hey, you,” she said.

“Hey, yourself.”

He looked better than he had yesterday, which wasn’t saying much. He was still pale, his eyes were dark with fatigue and probably pain. She wanted to climb into the bed with him and hold him close. Like that was a good idea.

“Nice crutches,” he said.

“They’re the latest fashion edition. They come with an assortment of color coordinated accessories.”

His grin was like a burst of sunlight in her heart. She balanced herself, then reached out and took his hand, careful to avoid the IV. “Thank you for charging to my rescue—even though it put you here.”

His expression turned serious. “It’s my job.”

“It’s a crappy job, if you ask me. I hope you at least have benefits.” Her attempt at humor didn’t loosen the knot inside. “I thought I’d lost you when he stabbed you.”

“
It
—not he.” He squeezed her hand. “I wasn’t worried about me. I thought it was going to kill you on the spot.”

“Yeah.” She managed a shaky smile. “Me, too.”

“You were amazing, Marla. You kept your wits about you, and you probably saved my life when you jumped on the Belian’s back—although it was another foolish stunt.”

“It might have been foolish, but you still owe me big time for it.”

That got another smile. “Yeah, I do. And who’d have thought your biting talent would have come in so handy?” Humor gleamed in his eyes. “You were clearheaded enough to take my hint. That, and Julia’s precognition, and a damned good swing with her cane, are what saved us.”

“My big sister really came to the rescue, didn’t she? She’s always looked after me.”

“She can be on my team anytime.”

They lapsed into silence, staring at each other. She drank in the sight of him, his amazingly blue eyes, his clean, noble features, and wealth of blond hair. She knew their time had run out. She needed to get on with her life—and without Luke. Besides, if she hung around too long, she might end up begging, and she’d hate that.

“Well,” she finally said. “I’ve been discharged from the hospital. Julia and I are flying home tomorrow, and I just wanted to tell you—” She couldn’t bring herself to say the actual words, even though this was the end for them. She knew how Luke felt about involvement; knew that caring wasn’t even close to love.

Leaning over, she kissed him lightly. She savored the feel of him, tried to store the memory. It would have to last a lifetime. She started to draw back, but he pulled her against him in a hug. She hugged him back, holding on tightly and wishing she didn’t ever have to let go. Then he released her, and she felt the finality.