Locked (The Heaven's Gate Trilogy) (23 page)

“And now that you know? That changes everything doesn’t it? 
Now you’re going to take me away and kill me.  What are you going to do? Dump
my body in some alley?  Bury me in a desert somewhere?  Or am I going to go up
in flames and disappear like Lucas did?”

A muscle in his jaw spasmed.  Michael took a deep breath
through his nose, holding it for several seconds before allowing it to escape
through a giant, controlled exhale.  He chose his next words carefully,
articulating them slowly with the effort of controlling his temper.

“If you give me a chance, I can explain it all to you.  Lucas
was right about many things, but he was wrong about one, very crucial aspect of
this…situation.”

“I’m listening,” I said, crossing my arms.

He glanced to his left, swiftly changing lanes.

“You aren’t the Key.  Your Mark says you are the
bearer
of the Key.”

I thought back to that night at Tabitha’s and remembered her
translation.  “What’s the difference?”

“The difference is everything.  Without the Key, you are
harmless and the prophecy cannot be fulfilled.”

 I turned this new information over in my mind.  “And Lucas
didn’t know this?”

The corners of Michael’s mouth turned up in a sardonic grin. 
“His Aramaic must have been a little rusty.”

I fell back in my seat, my head spinning.  “So if I’m not the
Key, why are we running away?”

“They
think
you’re the Key.  So that means two
things.  One, it means they will stop at nothing to reclaim you.  The only way
to keep you safe is to keep you moving.  And two, as long as they think
you
are the Key, it means they aren’t looking for the
real
Key.  Which means
if we can find it first, we can destroy it.”

“Destroy it,” I echoed, wondering if it was ever really
possible to destroy something that had been foreseen so long ago.  I let my
gaze drift out the window, my mind wandering as the early morning lights of
South Atlanta flashed by.

“If you destroy me, then there is no Bearer.  Is there?”

The question hung in the silence of the car.  Michael did not
answer.

“And then the prophecy couldn’t be fulfilled, either.”

I didn’t ask him to confirm what I already knew.  Instead, I
huddled in my seat, my feet tucked under me, exhaustion pushing me finally into
a merciful sleep.

As we turned a curve and came into the airport, I finally
woke up, my head still resting against the cool window. Everything came rushing
back.

“What if I don’t want to go with you?” I asked, never lifting
my head. “What if I tell the gate agents you’re taking me against my will?”

“Why wouldn’t you want to go with me?” he asked, but when he
spoke, it was not with his own voice.  Wearily, I turned my head to see the
figure of my father sitting behind the wheel of the car, looking at me with
bemusement.  “I’m sure your mother won’t mind if we take a little trip.”

My mind immediately began generating objections – violation
of custody agreements, failure to procure the appropriate authorizations and
paperwork – but I forced myself to stop.  It was useless, and I knew it.

Tears stung my eyes as I remembered that morning in my
bedroom, the first time I’d seen him change into someone else before my very
eyes.

“You promised me.  You promised me you’d never do that
without my permission,” I said, the bitterness of his empty promise almost
making me sick.

“You left me no choice,” he said, his face emotionless.

“I have no choice, either, do I,” I stated, my voice
expressionless.  A lone tear trickled down my face and splashed onto my hand.

“No.  You really don’t,” he echoed as he pulled the car into
the long-term parking lot. 

After steering the Audi into an empty space, he turned to
me.  Inside the fleshy face of my aging father, I could see Michael’s icy blue
eyes.  They were full of determination, and not much else.

“Come with me,” he asked, holding out his hand. 

I stared at his hand, not sure what to do.

Go.

I paused.  The last time Henri had urged me to go somewhere,
I’d ended up in the middle of a death match between Lucas and Michael.

Go,
the voice whispered again. 
If he means to harm you, you
will never escape him, no matter how far you run.  And if he is telling the
truth, it may be your only chance.  Not just yours.  The world’s.

I hadn’t really thought about what would happen if the Fallen
Ones reclaimed heaven.  Would it be the start of the Apocalypse – or something
even worse?  I began to shake at the gravity of my choice.  Around me, a few
harried businessmen and women scurried about, running to make their early
morning flights, oblivious to the destruction that was hanging over their
heads. 

What if I chose wrong?

I looked once more into Michael’s eyes, but this time I saw
something else.  They seemed clear and untroubled.  Even confident. 
Damn
him,
I thought. 
Damn them all
.  Everything had been a lie, and now
I was like a defenseless hare, caught in the huntsman’s trap.  How could I not
go with him?  What other choice did I have?

I gripped the edge of my seat, trying to steady my quivering
body.  Slowly, still not trusting him, I clasped Michael’s outstretched hand --
my father’s hand.

A flood of warmth ran from my fingertips and up my arm.  I
could feel it, creeping slowly across my face and into my middle, where it made
me feel funny. I looked up, hoping to find some confidence in the familiar gaze
of Michael’s eyes, but the stony look on his face stopped me short.  Confused,
I snatched my hand away.

 “Where are we going?” I demanded, trying to keep the quiver
out of my voice.

“Vegas,” Michael answered, reaching into the back seat and
thrusting my backpack at me.

I looked at the pack, stuffed full.  With a quick glance I
saw it held a few items of clothing and toiletries. “You had planned this all
along,” I accused, my heart sinking.

“Not this way,” he responded tersely.  “And for a different
reason.” 

He paused, waiting for my curiosity to kick in, but I kept my
eyes glued on the little nametag that dangled off my backpack.  I didn’t want
to give him the satisfaction of seeing how his betrayal had affected me.

I heard him give an exasperated sigh.  Giving up, he pushed
himself out of the car and came around to my side.  He opened my door, and when
I didn’t move he brusquely unbuckled my seat belt and pulled me out.

Without waiting for me to follow, he stalked off toward the
terminal.  “If you care anything for your father, you’ll do what I say.”

“My father?” I asked dumbly, scurrying to catch up with him. 
I glanced around.  We were alone in the garage, with no one to overhear our
conversation.

Michael slowed his pace, but did not stop.  “We have a few
days, maybe a week, until your mother arrives home and discovers you are
missing.  Right?”

I nodded, unsure where he was headed.

“That is a few days for us to get ahead of the Fallen; a few
days for us to lay a false trail.  The Key is ancient; I don’t know what it is,
or where it is, but I know it is not here, in North America.”

I was jogging to keep up with him as we neared the lights of
the terminal. 

“We’re going to have to leave without tipping anyone off to
where we are going.  If we’re conspicuous enough to get picked up by all the
security cameras in Vegas, we’ll have the police and the Fallen focusing their
time there, while we get a head start.”

I drew in my breath.  “You mean to set my father up for
kidnapping.”

He shot me a sideways glance.  “Your mother will believe it,
won’t she?”

The truth in what he said, and the injustice of it, shot me
like an arrow.  I envisioned my father being led off to jail, his wrists in
cuffs.

“But it’s not fair!  It’s not fair to him!”  My voice rang
out, echoing off the concrete pillars and ceiling.

Michael drew up short, gripping my arm and giving me a shake
to warn me into silence.  “It’s the best we can do.  Let the authorities figure
out how your father was in Vegas at the same time hundreds of people saw him at
work in Alabama.  The confusion alone will buy us time.”

My eyes blurred and hot tears ran down my face.  My father
had given up everything he had to protect me.  Now, because of me, he was going
to be exposed, ridiculed, and hated.  Hated for something he didn’t even do.

Michael loosed his grip.  When he spoke, his voice was soft,
almost soothing.  “I promise you, Hope, he won’t go to prison for this.  He
will spend a few days under the spotlight, but they won’t be able to get around
his alibi because it’s real.”

I sniffed a tear back.  “My past….its going to come out,
isn’t it?”

“Probably,” Michael said.  “But knowing your mother, she’ll
fight hard to keep it from the media.”

“What if he loses his job?” I asked, knowing it was virtually
guaranteed.

“Small price to pay,” Michael asserted in a matter-of-fact
manner.

It felt so odd, talking about my father like he wasn’t
present, when it was his voice, his face, his body right here with me; odd to
be treating him like a bit player when in reality this was as much his story as
mine.

“Vegas will buy us time.”  I repeated it to myself, willing
myself to believe.

“Vegas will buy us time.”  Through my tears, I saw the
corners of Michael’s mouth lift slightly.  “And in Vegas, we might find Maria.”

I opened my eyes wide.  “She’s there?” I gasped.

“The traffickers moved her there after they picked her up
again.  I guess they figured things were too hot to keep her in Atlanta.” The
vein in his forehead throbbed as he tried to contain his anger.  “That’s why I
went over to your house tonight – I know how important it is to you to find
her.  I wanted to tell you.”

 “But how…?”  I broke off, unsure how to finish my sentence.

He shrugged my question off.  “I did it the old fashioned way
and knocked some heads together.  It’s amazing how persuasive a little violence
can be when you’re dealing with street scum.”

I stared at him, more confused than ever.  It was important
to me to find Maria.  I’d thought he’d given up on her.  But instead, he’d gone
out of his way for her – for me.

“You came over to tell me and take me to Las Vegas to look
for her?”

“No,” he said emphatically, his eyes flashing.  “I was going
to tell you, yes.  But I was never planning to take you along with me to search
for her -- this is not the kind of trip for a teenage girl.  But when I found
you and your mother’s car missing, I knew something was wrong.  So I came
prepared,” he said, gesturing to the backpack I still clutched in my hands.

“So now I’m going with you.”

“Now you’re coming with me.”

“To look for Maria.”

He squared his jaw.  The effect wasn’t quite the same, seeing
it in my father’s jowly face, but his displeasure was clear.  “To lay a trail. 
I’m the only one who will be doing any exploration.  You’re going to stay put.”

I was about to protest when I thought better of it.  I still
didn’t know whether I could trust him – better to not press my luck now.  I
could always argue my way out of it later, once we were on the ground in Las
Vegas.

He lifted my chin in his hands.  Another wave of heat swept
through my body as he cradled my face. “The only thing I need you to do while
we are there is to smile for the cameras.  You got that?”

I nodded mutely, confused and angry that even after
everything that had happened, my body still responded to his touch; embarrassed
that his touch affected me so much, and more than a little creeped out by
having that reaction when, at least on the outside, it was my own dad standing
there.  Gross.

He dropped his hand away and moved into the Terminal with me
in tow.  This early, the place was still empty.  He walked briskly to the
ticket counter and asked for the first flight to Vegas.  The ticket agent
looked at me funny, and then looked Michael up and down.

“Is everything all right?” she said, looking at me
pointedly.  I looked down and realized I was filthy, my clothing stained with
red clay and rust from the factory. 

The humiliation and fear of the night was all too fresh and I
began to waver.  For a moment, I considered telling her everything – but when I
played through the scene in my mind, I kept getting stuck at the part where I
told her that the man beside me was not my father.  Who would believe that? 
Even I could only tell the difference when I looked closely into his eyes. 

“She’s fine.  Right, honey?”  Michael interjected smoothly,
producing IDs and some paperwork.  He handed them across the counter to the
agent who shuffled through the papers one by one.

“Your papers seem to be in order.  Including permission from
your mother for you to travel with him. Your dad, right?”  She pointedly
ignored Michael, directing her questions to me.