Night Resurrected (40 page)
their families and going.”
Vaughn looked exhausted. If Wyatt
wasn’t so fed up with the situation, he
might have felt a little sympathy for the
man. But not much. Hell, he’d seen guys
who’d had it much worse: digging
through piles of hurricane rubble to find
corpses that had once been family in
Haiti. Walking through a Baghdad
market after a suicide bomb had
decimated it.
Coming out of a damned cave and
finding the entire world different.
Everything you ever loved,
gone.
His mouth tightened and he drew in a
deep breath.
Calm.
“But even that’s not our biggest
problem right now.” Vaughn looked right
at Wyatt. “She’s gone.”
It took a minute for the words to sink
in. “What do you mean . . . she’s
‘gone’?”
“You know where Remy is?” Jade
interjected. She sounded just as pissed
as Wyatt felt. “What the
hell
?”
Vaughn drew himself up and scanned
the group with cool, no-nonsense eyes.
“I made the decision to protect her and
keep her out of the way until we decided
how to proceed. To be perfectly clear—
Remy was in my custody with her full
agreement.”
Wyatt was aware of a rising fury
bubbling inside him. What the hell gave
Rogan the right to do such a thing? And
to lie about it, to people who knew her?
“It was safer for Remy,” the mayor
said, fixing him with a cold gaze,
obviously reading his mind. “Safer if no
one knew where she was, or
who
she
was. There would be no chance
encounter, no accidental recognition—”
“But what you’re saying now is that
she’s
fucking gone
.” He couldn’t sit any
longer, and now he was eye-to-eye with
Vaughn. His vision went dark, edged
with red fury. “And there are people out
there—a mob—just waiting for the
chance to—”
The knock on the door was probably
the only thing that kept him from taking a
swing at the man—either literally or
figuratively. And Wyatt didn’t figure he
cared which way it would have gone.
His muscles trembled with the effort of
holding back.
Rogan turned with dignity—but not
without measuring Wyatt back with a
dark look of his own—just as Ian Marck
stumbled through the door. Behind him
was Simon, clearly the force behind the
propulsion.
In retrospect, Wyatt realized it was
probably a damn good thing things
happened the way they did. Being able
to grab Marck by the scruff of the shirt
and whip
him
up against the wall instead
of the mayor was doubtless a better
choice in the long run.
“Get your fucking hands off me,”
Marck spat, recovering quickly from the
surprise assault. He grabbed Wyatt’s
arm with strong fingers.
“Not until you tell me where Remy
is,” Wyatt said from between clenched
teeth.
“If I knew, I wouldn’t tell you. But
since I don’t, I don’t even have
that
satisfaction.”
Marck tried to head-butt him in the
face, but Wyatt dodged the blow and
jammed the other man harder against the
wall. It was all he could do not to plow
a fist into his face or gut, and then let the
rest fly . . . but, unfortunately, he
believed Ian. With great reluctance, stiff
with fury, Wyatt loosened his grip on
Ian’s shirt and let his feet rest back on
the floor.
“Last time I saw Remy, she smashed
me on the head with a fucking beer
bottle,” Marck said, twisting sharply
away from Wyatt’s grip. His movement
revealed a lump the size of a golf ball on
his head, and a bright red scar shining
amid matted blond hair.
“Well, that’s a hell of a souvenir.”
Wyatt
nearly
smiled.
Nice going,
sweetheart.
“When did that happen?”
“Last night. Right after all hell broke
loose. What the hell am I doing here?”
Marck glared at Simon, who’d been
watching the proceedings with his arms
crossed over his chest—blocking the
door.
“When did you see her last?” Wyatt
demanded, looking at Vaughn.
“About three hours ago,” he replied.
“And now she’s gone.”
Damn.
Wyatt turned back to the
bounty hunter. “The two bounty hunters
who just arrived in Envy. Do you know
them?”
Marck shrugged, insolence oozing
from him. Had to give the guy credit for
balls. He was up to his chin in a mess,
and he still copped an attitude.
“An albino man and a bleached-
blond woman in black leather,” Quent
said, his tones flat and impatient. “Know
who they are?”
“Lacey’s here? Sonofabitch.” Ian
Marck’s sneer turned disgusted and a
little discomfited. “Thanks for the
warning. I’ll be going now.”
“I don’t think so,” Vaughn said.
Simon hadn’t moved anyway, so
Marck’s retreat was foiled regardless.
“Not until you give us some more
information. We’re working on a damn
timeline here.”
“Yeah,” Marck said with a humorless
smile. “I know. Thirty hours until
everything goes up in smoke. Me
included.”
“You’ve had a big-ass death wish for
years,” Zoë said. “Should be no big deal
for you now. Unless you want to help
us.”
Marck’s response was a dry chuckle,
clearly indicating his position.
There was a knock on the door and
everyone swiveled to look. “Seriously?”
Fence said. “Who the hell is it now?”
Being closest, Simon poked his head
out the door and had a brief conversation
with whoever was there. When he pulled
his head back in, he looked at David.
“Your daughter is looking for you.
Apparently, she has a problem.”
David
frowned
and
exchanged
glances with Wyatt. “What sort of
problem?”
“Apparently, there is a dead body in
your room.”
“A
dead body? In our room? Are you
okay?” Her father’s reaction was pretty
much what Cat had expected.
“I’m fine,” she told him. But “fine”
was such an inaccurate word to describe
how she was feeling after the events of
the last few hours. Jumpy, fired up,
confused, and determined were probably
better.
Dad had asked the question just as he
came out of the room where he’d been in
some clandestine meeting, probably
having to do with the resistance group
he’d told her about. It had taken her
forever to find someone who knew
where he was, and it was only because
she’d mentioned Ana and George that
she was able to track him down anyway.
But to Cat’s surprise, Dad didn’t
come from the room alone. Her breath
caught when she recognized the man
accompanying him.
The hot guy from
last night, by the stage.
Her cheeks
warmed and her heart stuttered.
Lucky
me.
“Cat, this is Wyatt,” Dad said. He
had a funny expression on his face.
“He’s . . . uh . . .”
“I’m going to help take care of the
body, but quickly. Remy’s still missing,”
Wyatt said. “We can explain everything
else later. What happened?” he asked
Cat, turning his full attention on her.
Intense
. That was the only word to
describe him. Up close and talking to
this guy, she realized there was a lot
more to him than mere hotness. He
seemed barely restrained, like he was
ready to explode into action at any
moment. His eyes were dark and a little
too hard; they kind of glittered, with
some emotion she couldn’t identify. He
was older than her, probably at least ten
years, and looked as if he’d
lived
. Not in
a debauched sort of way, but in a
real
life-sucks sort of way. Like Dad.
Cat realized with a start that Wyatt
and her father were both looking at her.
They had identical expressions on their
faces:
expectant,
impatient,
and
concerned.
“Yeah, right. Well, this blond lady
just kind of showed up at the room,” she
explained, telling the story she and Remy
had agreed upon. As close to the truth as
possible without giving away anything
important.
Not that she really knew much, even
now. Just the little she’d gleaned from
the conversation between Remy and the
woman. And she’d seen the small crystal
apparently known as the Mother crystal
—which Remy told her was causing all
of these problems, and apparently could
be the cause of Envy’s destruction.
“I guess she was looking for help,
because she was knocking on doors. I
must’ve been the only one around
because she knocked on ours and I
opened it. She was sick,” Cat said as
they started to walk out of the offices of
the mayor and city council. “I could tell
that almost right away. She came in and
sat down . . . got all short of breath and
clammy and weak . . . and then she
died.” She spread her hands. “I didn’t
know what to do, so I came to find you,
Dad.”
“That’s unfortunate for the woman
and her family, of course, but I don’t
think it’s an insurmountable problem,”
Dad said. He seemed irritated with the
simplicity of the story, tense in an
unusual way. “I thought something . . .
else . . . might have happened.” He and
Wyatt exchanged glances.
“Well, I figured since she had a
crystal,” Cat added deliberately, “it
might not be as simple as that.” She was
rewarded when Dad and Wyatt both
paused in their steps.
“What
kind
of
crystal?”
Dad
demanded as Wyatt said, “She was
blond? Not dark-haired?”
“Blond,” Cat replied. “Her hair was
almost white. And she’s a Stranger. Or
at least, she’s got a crystal right where
they usually have them.”
“Was she wearing a leather vest?”
“Well, yeah. She was. Is.” How did
Wyatt know that?
He gave no indication, instead saying
something sharp and violent under his
breath. Almost as if they read each
other’s minds, Dad and Wyatt picked up
speed and nearly left her behind.
Hurrying to keep up, Cat admired
Wyatt’s powerful stride and broad
shoulders, the confident, arrogant way he
moved. He had great arms, all muscular
and tanned. Then, noticing his dark,
intense expression, she couldn’t help
wonder if he might not be a little too
much man. Even for her.
“And she’s dead? You’re certain of
it?” Wyatt’s expression made her even
more unsettled as he looked down at her.
“She’s not breathing and there’s no
pulse. I’m guessing she’s dead,” Cat
snarked back as they reached the
stairwell. As if she couldn’t tell a dead
person when she saw one.
Wyatt’s lips twitched a little, then he
said a little more mildly, “Strangers
don’t usually die . . . unless their crystal
is removed.” Then he opened the door
and gestured her through.
“You can see for yourself,” Cat
replied. “Her crystal is still embedded
just below her collarbone. I’ve never
seen one up close, but how many people
have crystals embedded in their skin?”
She started up the steps ahead of
them. She figured it couldn’t hurt for
Wyatt to have the chance to check out
her ass, which, she’d been told, was
quite a piece of art.
When they got to the room, Cat took
her time opening the door as a way to
warn Remy they were returning. The
plan was for her to stay hidden in the
closet while Dad removed the body, and
she was supposed to duck inside when
she heard the sounds at the door.
Everything went as planned: Cat
opened the door to reveal the dead