Intuition (31 page)

“It's okay,” I say to her. “He's with me.”

“Sekhem only,” Giselle insists.

Griffon appears in the doorway. There's no emotion on his face when he sees us, although I watch his eyes take in my
dress and heels. “Peter's upstairs in another part of the house. You can wait with him there.”

Drew opens his mouth to protest, but I squeeze his hand. We have to do whatever it takes to get this done, and there's no time to argue. “It's okay. Nothing's going to happen. Just go up and I'll be there in a little while.” Drew must realize he's not going to win, because he bends down to kiss me once, glares at Griffon, and then lets Giselle lead him away.

Griffon opens the door wider and motions me in. The room is more stripped-down than the one outside, and it definitely looks like a place where someone could hole up for days in an emergency. There are metal shelves stocked with supplies lining one wall, and a few chairs and a single bed pushed against the other. In the middle of the room is a small wooden chair with a dark-haired man sitting in it. One hand is tied to the chair back, but the other hangs loosely at his side. His eyes are open and scanning the room, but nothing else about him seems to be moving.

“His shoulder was dislocated in the struggle,” Griffon says, seeing my glance at his arm. “And Giselle administered a nerve block to keep him immobile.” Griffon's face looks drawn and worried. “He can see and hear, but he can't speak. Doesn't speak English anyway, from what we can tell.” He gestures at the man standing behind him. “You remember Christophe?”

“Of course.”

Griffon glances at his phone. “Janine should be here any minute, along with some other Sekhem. We need to find Rayne quickly. See if this guy knows where they're taking her, along with any other information he might have.” A look of concern
crosses his face. “Are you sure you're okay doing this? I saw what it did to you last time—”

“I'll be fine,” I say, with more assurance than I actually feel. I picture Rayne alone in a dark place, not knowing where she is or who she's with. She must be scared out of her mind. I feel my anxiety start to rise again and pull my thoughts away from wherever she is. I have to calm down or I won't be able to do this. “How did it happen?”

“We were walking up Haight toward the Red Vic when four men jumped out of an SUV and dragged Rayne into it.” He runs his hand over his hair. “It was so fast; we were taken totally by surprise. I managed to grab this one as he was climbing back into the car. They took off without him.”

“How did you get him back here without people noticing?” I ask. Haight can be crazy at night, but a kidnapping might make people look twice.

“Giselle knows an array of defense techniques,” he says. “She was able to incapacitate him enough to get him in her car and over here. He's not Ahket.”

I look at the guy, whose eyes are locked on us. “What did you tell Peter?”

“As little as possible. He knows that it has to do with Rayne's sickness, but that's about it. He's really freaked out.”

“I bet.” I walk over to the man and his eyes widen, but his body doesn't move. “How long does the nerve block last?”

“A couple of hours, usually. It can vary, which is why we restrained him too.”

I run my hands over the smooth fabric of my dress. I'm already sweating and my stomach is rolling. I look toward the
closed door. “Should we wait for Janine?” I'd feel so much better trying to connect with him if she were here too.

“We don't have time,” Christophe says, typing something into his phone.

Griffon looks at me and his eyes soften a little bit. “You can do this. You've done it before. Just focus on what Janine taught you and ignore everything else.”

I nod, breathing hard through my nose. I take a few deep breaths and clench my hands into fists. At least this time I don't have to try to be sly about it; it doesn't matter if this guy knows whether I'm reading him or not.

I take a step closer to the chair, and he flinches almost invisibly. I start to wonder what he's feeling, if he's afraid, but I force my thoughts away from there. It doesn't matter, and any empathy in the wrong direction could get in the way. There are beads of sweat on his forehead and I can see his breath coming rapid and shallow. I put my hands lightly on his shoulders and breathe deeply, centering myself and trying to block out Griffon and Christophe, the safe room, and everything else that's going on upstairs. I focus on the place where my hands meet his jacket, on the energy that's flowing between the two of us.

Griffon's right—he's not Akhet, and he doesn't understand that I'm reading him. At least not yet. What I feel isn't fear exactly, but a sense of disappointment. He knows that he messed up, and if the people in charge find out, they'll kill him. I try to stay calm as I focus on a deeper level, on the place where we physically connect, and imagine energy flowing through that point between our bodies.

Within seconds, I see flashes of the kidnapping, and I flinch
with his memory of blinding pain as he's grabbed from behind and wrestled to the ground. He wants to cry out but can't. His brain is working, but everything else is shut down.

“Where did you take her?” Christophe asks loudly, his face inches from the kidnapper's, frustration edging his voice. I hear the question, but all I get is the tone of it. The disruption completely severs our connection.

“Not helpful!” I shout at him. “Besides, he doesn't understand you.”

“He knows exactly what I mean,” Christophe says, pushing the guy backward. Because he has no muscle control, the guy flops around like a doll.

Griffon grabs Christophe's arm. “Leave them alone.”

I close my eyes again, trying not to let frustration wash over me. I'm looking for any clues about where they would have taken her, who's waiting for her. I know he's got to be thinking about it, about who's waiting for them and what they're going to do when they find out he's gone. I clear my thoughts completely and open myself up to the impulses from his body again, trying to sink back to the place we were just a few minutes ago, when I catch a fleeting sense of a big, gray-concrete hotel. I can see people standing out front in a small curving driveway waiting for cabs or smoking cigarettes around a small round ashtray. A wave of nausea hits me and I drop my hands and sink to the ground, the folds of my expensive dress settling in around me.

Griffon rushes over, but I hold out my hand. “I'm okay,” I say quickly. “Just give me a minute.” I close my eyes and breathe through the sick feelings. My arms are so heavy that my hands
drag uselessly on the floor. Once the worst of it passes, I open my eyes. The bright fluorescent light is painful, and I can feel a headache forming.

“There's a hotel; I think it's somewhere in the city,” I say slowly, closing my eyes again and describing what I saw. “Across the street is a parking garage, and above that is a big park. People are doing that slow-motion karate stuff on mats, and there's a kids' playground.” I sit perfectly still and allow the sensations and images to wash over me again. “There are lots of signs with Chinese letters on them.” I open my eyes and look at them. “I think it's in Chinatown.”

“I know that park,” Griffon says, his voice rising with excitement. “It's Portsmouth Square. Right across from the Hilton. Are they at the Hilton?”

“Maybe,” I say, but something about that doesn't feel right. It's like my attention is being drawn somewhere near the hotel instead. “But I don't think so. It's someplace next to the hotel. On the same side of the street, but on the right. Something smaller. Maybe a restaurant or a liquor store?”

As I'm trying to gather my thoughts, the door opens again and Janine rushes in, followed by Giselle. Janine's eyes are calm as she takes in the scene. “Are you okay?”

I nod. “Just a little weak.”

“Did you get anything?” Janine looks hopefully at the three of us.

“I think so,” Griffon says. “Chinatown, next to the Hilton, across from the park. We don't have anything exact, but that's as close as we're going to get.” He seems to have taken charge as
he nods to Giselle and Christophe. “You two stay here.” He turns to Janine. “How many people have we got outside?”

“Seven. And I can get more on the way there.”

“Great.” He turns to Christophe. “Let me know if there's anything else.”

“I'm going with you,” I say, struggling to my feet. None of this would have happened if it hadn't been for me. I want to be there when it ends.

“No way,” Griffon says harshly and turns to go. “You're in no shape to come with us.”

“You can't make me stay! I'll get Drew to take me.”

Janine puts a hand on my arm. “It's dangerous, and we need you here,” she says, gently but urgently. “Your job is to get as much information as you can. Christophe will send us anything important when we're on the move. There are plenty of people outside whose only goal is to bring Rayne back safely. They're all well trained and they know what they're doing.”

“But—”

“You don't want to be a liability,” Janine says.

“Let's go!” Griffon demands, holding the door open. Janine takes one look back at me and follows him out the door.

As the room is secured again, it's eerily quiet. Christophe is tapping on his phone, and Giselle is pacing silently in the corner. I collapse into one of the chairs along the wall and put my head in my hands. Not only has connecting with this guy used up all my energy, but I'm frustrated and angry too.

Giselle walks to the shelving units. “Do you want some water? There's enough here to last us for weeks.”

I look up at her. “Thanks. That might help.” I squint into the light. “And a couple of Advil if you can find any.”

After rooting around in her bag, she hands me some pills and a bottle of water and then looks at the guy in the chair. “You could really see all of those things? Just by putting your hands on him?”

I nod, swallowing the little orange pills in one gulp. “Yeah. Not like a movie, though. It's more impressions and feelings that I have to piece together. It's kind of hard to explain.”

“But fascinating,” she says. She looks genuinely interested. “Can you do that to anyone?”

I look at the ground, remembering reading her at the meeting. She has no idea. “I think so. As long as I'm in contact with them, I can.”

Christophe nods at the guy. “Did you see anything else? Other than where they're taking her?”

“Just that he thinks they'll kill him if they find out he got caught,” I say.

A look of concern passes over Giselle's face. “I could tell. I only saw them for a second, but these guys were professionals.”

Griffon said that they were on their way to the movies, which means that Giselle was with them. I can feel jealousy flare up, knowing it has no place in this situation. Now is not the time to worry about who Griffon's out with. I glance at my brand-new shoes; and I'm hardly one to talk. “Do you have any idea where they're from?”

Giselle nods to the guy. “Our best guess is that this one's from North Korea. But that doesn't necessarily mean that all of them are.”

“And he's not Akhet.”

“The guys who took Rayne are just the boots on the ground,” Giselle says. “The ones who do the dirty work. I'm sure that there are rogue Akhet behind all of this. There have to be.” My face must give away my feelings, because she keeps talking quickly. “Look, they're going to keep Rayne alive. They have to—if they're going to try to make a profit off the formula or give it to others, they need to have proof that it works. And that it won't kill you.”

“Reassuring,” I say, meaning every bit of the sarcasm.

I can hear Christophe's phone vibrate and we both turn to look at him. He checks the text. “It's just my sister,” he says. “We're having trouble with my mother.”

“Not now, Christophe,” Giselle says irritably.

“I know. Let me just answer her.” He turns and taps a few things out on his keyboard before putting the phone away.

Time seems to drag in the stuffy little room, and I wish we had some way of knowing what was going on. I'm feeling stronger after my empath connection. The guy's head is lolling on his shoulder, but I don't think he's asleep. “Do you think I should try connecting with him again? See if there's any more information?”

“Let's see what happens in Chinatown first,” Christophe says. “If they find her where you said they are, then it's not necessary.” His phone rings and he takes it out of his pocket. “It's Janine.” He pushes the button and listens for a second. I study his eyes, looking for clues, but his face is so impassive, I can't tell what he's hearing.

“Okay, thanks,” he says. “I'll keep you posted.” He turns to us. “They're not there.”

“What?” I say desperately. I search my mind for what I'd seen. “They didn't find the right place? Because it's a small shop or restaurant right by the hotel. I can practically see it. On the right as you're facing it. Call them back—”

Christophe puts a hand out to stop me. “They got the right place—a cigar store two doors down from the hotel. They found Rayne's phone on the floor in a storeroom.” He looks at me and my heart sinks. “Smashed to pieces. But there was nobody there.”

Giselle grabs me as I lunge for the kidnapper. “They're not there!” I shout, wanting nothing more than to pound my fists into him, but she pulls me back and spins me around.

I look frantically from Christophe to Giselle, panic completely taking over every rational thought. “What do we do now? I was sure that was where they were taking her. That's what I saw.”