Muted laughter rippled through the crowd. Daryl positioned himself so that he had a line of sight view with Peter, or whatever Peter had become.
A gremlin? Or a gargoyle? I want out of here!
"And you, Cory, you'll take your group to Lake Ray Hubbard and do the honors there," the creature continued, indicating the lake on the map. "The Highway 30 bridge, along here, would be a good spot to deposit the product. And you, Monk, you and your men will go to Lake Lewisville, to the place we've already discussed." It paused, scanning the group, until he saw who he was looking for. "Ah, there you are. Mikey, you'll take your crew to Lake Grapeville." He regarded the gathering like a doting father. "I trust everyone showed up with a full tank of gas?"
The group grunted acknowledgment. Peter turned to the twin doors behind him as four other critters appeared, each holding a small pallet of paper-wrapped packages, about the size of liter bottles. The creatures resembled the giant rat Peter had turned into; these were smaller, like little gremlins. As one walked up to Daryl and gave him a package, its stench nearly knocked him over.
Daryl looked around as the little beasties handed out the packages. No one seemed particularly alarmed that creatures straight out of D&D were strolling through the free-weight room at the New You Fitness Center, handing out drugs. Their lack of response lent a bit of normalcy to the scene, which made it all the more frightening to Daryl.
They must be under some kind of spell. Or they're drugged. Whatever it is, it's something I'm not.
Daryl took the package with shaking hands. Peter looked his way again, then stepped off the stage. The boy stared at the huge alien rat coming toward him and nearly dropped the package.
Offer free drugs,
Zeldan thought, bemused at the sight of human cattle massing in the New You,
and they will come by the droves.
Never before had he so brazenly assembled a group of human minions in one place, much less in a place used as a front for shadier activities.
Soon the drug will be coursing through the veins of Dallas, and there will be no stopping its effects. With the power of a city in psychosis, we will fuel the Unseleighe forces until they are satiated, then invade Morrigan's territory in numbers.
The raid on the Seleighe stronghold was a disappointment. They left a feeble shield protecting—what? worthless Seleighe children? He had come with enough stored energy to take everyone out, and then some; however, the two he did find would make suitable hostages should the Seleighe try to intervene with his plan. Down in the lab, Rathand was keeping them company while he spoke to the troops up here.
During his speech, Zeldan noticed something unusual about Daryl, something he found quite disturbing. The boy had changed drastically, but the Unseleighe lord was uncertain precisely how. He didn't seem as fogged on Dream. He looked like he might even have a mind of his own now, not one obsessed by Zeldan's gift from Underhill. He even looked, well,
suspicious.
The boy had always been nervous, worried about when his next voyage down Dream avenue might be, and who might supply it. Tonight seemed to be a different story; Daryl looked like he was going to run out of the building any second now.
Zeldan stepped off the stage and casually strolled over to Daryl. The gargoyles had already handed him his package of Black Dream concentrate, and he stood there holding it as if it were a bomb. Zeldan had made certain their conversation would not be heard by the others when he approached the boy, throwing up a concealing wall of privacy before addressing him.
"Hello, Daryl," Zeldan said. "I believe our human servant Presto called you over two hours ago. What took you so long to get here, I wonder?"
Zeldan gave the words plenty of time to sink in.
Human. As we certainly are not—or are you blind, stupid human child?
"Uh . . . I got here as soon as I could," he said, staring openmouthed at Zeldan. "Is something wrong?"
Zeldan regarded him with undisguised hate. "I should ask you the same thing," the Unseleighe said, leaning forward. The human pulled back, flinching. "Do you find my appearance
alarming
in any way?"
Daryl made a pitiful attempt to establish eye contact, but furtively looked away. "No, of course not. The plan is going smoothly, I hope?"
Zeldan scratched his long, pointed chin. "Right now, young human, I'm not so certain. Tell me, have you spoken with Adam McDaris lately?"
Daryl's eyes widened. "Uh, no. Why do you ask?"
He's lying. Time to let him know what a bad idea that is.
With his claws extended, Zeldan took a long swipe at Daryl, making four bloody incisions down his stomach and cutting through the denim of the jeans. The boy shrieked, but no one turned, or even noticed. Daryl fell backward, and lay cowering. A small box with a wire had fallen out of his pants.
An electronic device,
Zeldan thought, picking the instrument up with a single, extended claw.
An electronic
listening
device!
Though disguised, the voice coming over Daryl's wire was no doubt that of Zeldan Dhu. There were others the tape picked up, but Zeldan's was the most recognizable.
He was going to hit all the lakes,
she thought grimly.
And there would have been no way to protect them all with what we have. If we don't stop them all now, we don't have a chance. And neither do the humans who live in this city.
Roach listened to Daryl's wire also, but his mind was distracted by the sleep spell working its way over him; Sammi decided early in the stakeout that this was
not
something the human police needed to be in on. If it looked like they would need help, they were always there to call, but she doubted the cops would be much help against what Zeldan would be throwing at them.
How does a riot squad prepare for a levin bolt? They don't.
From the sounds she'd picked up over the wire, there were quite a few individuals gathered for the occasion, though she was having trouble determining how many there were, how many were human, and how many were not. She'd caught a brief glimpse of the New You parking lot before they parked on this particular street corner and remembered seeing a large number of motorcycles and sports cars.
Most, if not all of those, belong to humans. Zeldan isn't using only humans to carry this off, or is he?
The worst occurred to her.
He would if they were going to be expendable. That would definitely be his style.
A knock sounded on the van door, then Adam let himself in. He'd spent the last several minutes handing out black t-shirts printed with the word POLICE in bright white letters to the rest of the elves sitting in the Caprice parked behind the van. Under these were Kevlar vests, in the highly likely event some of the humans wielded handguns. Samantha herself had changed from her professional woman's dress to more appropriate field attire: jeans and a POLICE t-shirt.
She had told Adam to check in with her instead of using the radio, because the operation they were carrying out was less than authorized. It wouldn't do to have the dispatch listening in on an elf war, or have human police as witnesses. That would be too difficult to cover up. So the whole thing was being done on the sly.
Adam closed the door behind him and situated himself next to Sammi. The King made a striking young human cop; if Aedham Tuiereann hadn't already become King of Avalon, she would have to recommended him to the police academy for training.
"Anything?" he asked, but Sammi was paying more attention to the receiver.
Finally, she replied, "Daryl's in the center now." She regarded him with a dark stare. "I just heard their plan to saturate the water supply with Black Dream. Everything Daryl said was true."
Adam groaned. "I was hoping he had imagined the whole thing."
"No such luck, apparently. This may work to our advantage. If they're so distracted with carrying this out, they may not be ready for us." After a pause, Zeldan spoke again, much closer and directly to Daryl. Zeldan's deep voice reverberated too loudly over the speakers; Samantha dropped the bass a little on the receiver.
". . . have you spoken with Adam McDaris, lately?" Zeldan said.
"Oh, gods," Adam said. "Does he—"
"Shhh!" Sammi said.
After that came a rustle and a shriek from Daryl. Then the wire went dead.
"Sammi, he knows," Adam said. "We have to go in there!"
"Let's go," Samantha said, reaching for her Glock as Adam scrambled for the door. "The whole thing's blown now."
In the driver's seat, Roach snored loudly.
"Hold the fort, will you?" Sammi said to her sleeping human partner.
The Caprice squealed to a stop in front of the New You, the car's nose pointed directly at the entrance. Just inside the doors a handful of kids spotted them, then ran further in; Adam hadn't anticipated a complete surprise, but he was hoping for more lead time than that. Now they knew they were being raided, before the good guys had even set foot on the pavement.
"So much for the surprise element," Sammi said, pulling her Glock out as she climbed out of the Caprice. Marbann, Spence and Moira swarmed out of the backseat.
"Niamh, you stay here and watch these vehicles," Sammi ordered. "These little shits are going to want out of here in a real hurry, and I don't want them taking off with our car!" Niamh stayed in the front seat of the Caprice, looking altogether pleased about staying behind.
"Everyone, behind Adam," Sammi said, holding her Glock up with both hands.
Adam flipped the power on the laser weapon, and the LED display came to life.
"
Shields,
" Marbann said, and Adam felt a tug on the nodes as everyone simultaneously tapped into them, creating individual shields. They agreed earlier on this tactic to permit them individual freedom, should they be forced to spread out. If the Unseleighe started flinging levin bolts at them, which was highly likely, node shields would be the only effective protection.
"Door's open," Sammi said, pushing the doors aside, while the others entered. Further inside, he heard chaos erupting.
"
POLICE
!" Sammi shouted, leaping into the hallway in front of them, the Glock drawn and ready. "Put your hands up!"
There were five people in the hall; each of them dropped the packages they were carrying and started running. Which is what they wanted. As a unit, the force charged down the hallway, empty racquetball courts on the right, a free-weight room on the left.
Sammi and Adam rushed in, the others behind them.
"Everyone, put your hands up!" Sammi shouted, but no one obeyed. Paper packages fell to the floor as the crowd scattered. A few of the Unseleighe's human minions remained, however, watching the "police" warily as the rest of the group beat a hasty trail to the nearest exits. Others were going around Adam and his group to get out, the "police" not making any move to arrest them.
Zeldan Dhu, in his true elven form, stood on a short stage at one end of the free-weight room. An unconscious form, which appeared to be human, was draped over his shoulder like a sack of laundry. Hate burned in his eyes as he gazed at Adam, Sammi, the others. Adam raised his weapon, which seemed to puzzle the Unseleighe momentarily. As he took aim, he saw who Zeldan had over his shoulder.
Daryl.
The Unseleighe smirked at his hesitation, and he sent a levin bolt directly at them.
The concussion threw Adam backward. His shield, which was still in place, absorbed much of the shock, but the impact of the levin bolt pressed him against the wall painfully, squeezing him for a split second like a vise grip. His weapon made an uncomfortable crease against his chest, pushing the Kevlar vest's shock plate against his sternum; nothing broke, but if the bolt had been any stronger, he would be dealing with broken ribs now.
Stunned, Adam got up slowly from the floor. Sammi and Moira seemed equally stunned, but unhurt; Marbann and Spence had been thrown into the hallway, but it looked like Adam had taken the brunt of the levin bolt.
Zeldan had vanished from the stage.
The other human helpers, who had no shields whatsoever, were now lifeless forms, thrown into weight equipment and walls like limp rag dolls; one boy, who was no older than Adam, lay dead on the floor, his neck clearly broken.
This Unseleighe doesn't care who dies and who lives,
Adam thought, his mind racing.
And I had a clear shot of him, if only . . .
If only Zeldan hadn't used Daryl as a shield.
"They've gone through those doors," Sammi shouted. She ran onto the stage, motioned for the others to follow.
"He's gone to the Gate," Marbann said. "If he gets away, he'll have a chance to rebuild his forces.
We cannot let this happen, young King!
"
"I know," Adam said, stepping over the bodies.
Just like the palace,
he remembered.
Elven bodies everywhere. Only here, they're human.
"He's
not
getting away."
Adam didn't think he was retreating; at least, not all the way back to Underhill.
What is in there that he would need? Daryl must be with him still, which will present a problem if he continues using Daryl as a shield.
Adam heard the roar of a dozen different motorcycles as they sped off, followed by the cars, tires squealing.
"We'll have to collect this poison later," Adam said, toeing a package of Dream over, as if it were a corpse. "The rest of you, stay behind me. How are your shields, Sammi?"
Her shield distorted her sardonic grin, then her voice, as she spoke. "It takes more than that bolt to do anything to mine." She glanced through the doors. "There's a stairway leading down."
A service hallway led off from the stairwell, through which Adam saw another open exit. Beyond these doors a swarm of taillights sped off into the night.
Before him a thick metal door, painfully warm with iron, led to a stairwell.
"A trap?" Marbann said, peering down the stairs. "Or was he in such a hurry . . . ?"