Night Resurrected (51 page)

At last, defeated, he pried the stone

out of the wall, trembling with rage and

loathing. Those bastards had taken

everything . . . and yet, he couldn’t bring

himself to destroy them. Even to save

Remy.

For how could he ever look honestly

into those blue eyes if he did? She was

willing to give herself up, one life for

that of many.

As he’d done countless times

himself.

Furious and yet defeated, he had

shoved the crystal back in the file

cabinet and left the computer lab,

neglecting to give Dantès more than a

brief goodbye pat.

And now here he was, staring down

into his second whiskey, more confused

and screwed up than he’d ever been in

his life. At least when he’d come out of

the cave he knew how to feel: dead.

Now he was just lost.

When someone slid onto the stool

next to him, Wyatt assumed it was

Simon. Instead of looking over, he

sneered down at his hands cupping the

glass, curling his lip in a threat to
leave

me the fuck alone.

“If I’d have given you that look when

I was younger, you’d have swatted my

ass.”

Startled, he looked over into his

son’s eyes. “You’re probably right,” he

said after the surprise passed.

David ordered a drink, too, and

Wyatt took a sip of his own,

contemplating the fact that his eight-

year-old son was sitting next to him in an

old man’s body, having a whiskey.

Beyond surreal.

“You haven’t asked much about Cat’s

mother,” David said when the bartender

moved away.

Wyatt’s mouth twitched up at one

corner. “We’ve been a little distracted. I

figured there’d be time enough later to

get the details of your life for the past

fifty years.” A ripple of grief had him

tightening his fingers around the glass.

“Cat’s mother, Grace, was actually

my second wife,” David continued with

hardly a pause. “I was married to Marie,

the love of my life, for three years

before she died.”

“I’m sorry,” Wyatt said. “Really

sorry.”

“Yeah. Well, we don’t have very

many fancy treatments for cancer in this

world—unlike Dr. House. So,” David

said, continuing once again in a no-

nonsense way, “I have a little empathy

for the fact that you lost us all—your

wife and children. Obviously what I

went through was nothing compared to

your hell—”

“What are you talking about? You

lived
through hell. You were a boy, a

young boy . . . and you lost everything.

Not just
y o u r
world, but—” Wyatt’s

throat closed up and he pinched the

bridge of his nose. Christ. He was going

to lose it right here in the goddamn bar.

David put a hand on his arm and

squeezed gently. “You’re right. It was

hell. It was so far beyond hell, you can’t

imagine. But here I am today. Relatively

healthy for an old guy, not bad looking

and with most of my hair—thanks to the

great genes of my father. Hardly ever

have the nightmares anymore—it’s been

a good three years since the last one.

Still have a good portion of my faculties

still in place, with two amazing

daughters plus a darling granddaughter

. . .
and
I found my father again. After

fifty years. And he’s such a stud my

daughter can’t hardly keep her eyes off

him when he’s not wearing a shirt. Jeez

. . . could you invent a more awkward

situation?”

In spite of his misery, Wyatt couldn’t

hold back a laugh. But the flash of

absurd humor was short-lived and he

glanced over at David. “It’s a miracle

we found each other. The greatest gift

I’ve ever gotten.”

His son swirled his whiskey and

lifted it to drink. “I thought I’d never be

happy again after I lost Marie. I felt like

every time I allowed myself to smile or

laugh, I was out of line. It was my duty

to mourn her and miss her and keep

myself for her. Forever. You know?”

Wyatt rolled his eyes. He knew

where David was going with this. “Our

situations are worlds different.”

“How is that? Because you have guilt

to add into the mix? Is that what makes

you special, what makes you able to be

more of an asshole and for longer than I

was? You feel guilty for going on a

vacation, so you can never be happy

again? You can never allow yourself to

live because of something that happened

fifty years ago that you—nor anyone else

—could

never

have

foreseen

or

prevented?”

“What’s your point?” he growled.

“That I should be happy? That I should

smile and forget what happened? I
can’t
.

The earth was destroyed. All of

civilization—fucking
gone .
My family

was murdered. You were left—”

“My point,” David said, craning

around in front of him so he could catch

Wyatt’s stubborn gaze, “is that Mom’s

been gone for fifty years. There’s not a

damn thing your guilt and grief and

dickishness is going to do to bring her

back or to change what happened. I’m

not suggesting that you shouldn’t feel any

grief or sadness. Of course you should—

in your mind, it’s been only a year. But

don’t hold back on my account, Wyatt.

Don’t put it on me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking

about.”

“Bullshit.

The

minute

you

remembered Cat and I existed, back

when you found Remy, you shut it all

down. Cut it off.” He settled back in his

chair and took a big gulp of whiskey.

“Whatever’s going on with you and

Remy is your business—but what it’s

not
is a betrayal of Mom or her memory.

That was a lesson I had to learn myself,

after Marie died . . . when I met Grace,

only a year later.” He tilted his head.

“Hm. You and I have a lot more in

common than I realized, including

superior taste in women.”

Wyatt finished his whiskey, swishing

the last bit around in his mouth before

swallowing. The heat from the liquor

had abated, his fury had leveled off. He

remembered the pure white light of

pleasure, the intense body and mind

release he’d had with Remy last night. It

was like nothing he’d ever experienced

before . . . as if something had been

dragged out from the darkest depths of

his soul and then brought into white

light. Cathartic.

“Oh, thank God, there you are!” The

next thing he knew, Cat was there,

pulling his arm to drag him off the bar

stool. “You’ve got to come quick. Down

to the computer lab—”

“Knock it off, Cat,” Wyatt said,

tempering his irritation because she was

his granddaughter. But still. “I know

what you’re doing. You can tell Remy

she doesn’t need to distract me—”

“It’s the lab, it’s on fire, I swear to

you,” she said, pulling harder. “It’s not

like that. Dad, tell him!”

“I think we better go,” David said,

his attention going from Cat to Wyatt.

His face was sober, even concerned.

“The lab?” Wyatt said, still reluctant,

even though a little prickle of worry

niggled at him. “Dantès?”

“He’s out, but it’s burning . . . it’s

weird. Come
on
.”

By now Wyatt’s hesitation had

evaporated. He followed Cat at a full

run, aware that David was behind him,

keeping up as well as he could. The

secret elevator doors were open when

they got there, guarded by Dantès, who

whined and looked concerned when he

saw Wyatt.

He bounded down the spiral stairs,

sniffing but unable to scent smoke, and

faltered, wondering if this was, indeed,

another trick. But no, once he got to the

bottom of the stairs, he saw something

glowing in the room beyond the main

computer room. Orange and flickering.

Still no smoke . . . which was odd.

An uncomfortable prickling rushing over

him, Wyatt bolted into the room. He was

met by a wave of heat, blasting into him

like a wall.

The place was melting. The metal

table, the file cabinet . . . all had

softened, the cabinet folded into little

more than a silver puddle. The walls

were dripping with moisture, shuddering

from the temperature. He saw the orange

crystal, blazing and shimmering with

what could only be profound heat, sitting

on the melted file cabinet next to the

Jarrid stone.

His mind racing even as he rushed

into the room, Wyatt wondered how the

two stones had come to be next to each

other . . . and then he remembered. He’d

been so infuriated, he’d shoved the

Mother crystal into the file cabinet

without wrapping it in asbestos . . . and

apparently into the wrong drawer. The

one that contained the Jarrid stone.

He drew in burning air, felt it scorch

through his lungs and seep into his skin,

eyes, nostrils . . . just as it had during the

fire. But there was no smoke, nothing to

clog his lungs and vision, and he was

moving. Miraculously, he was able to

make his limbs work, and he stood over

the two stones. They weren’t fused

together but were next to each other, and

he could see the energy radiating

between them.

Aware that no one was there, that no

one could have followed him this far,

Wyatt reached for the orange crystal. He

saw his hand move through the

undulating waves of heat, shimmering

blue and orange and yellow, and when

he touched the stone, he felt it sear into

his flesh.

But he picked it up, enclosing it in his

fist . . . and the room cooled.

Instantly.

Holy fucking shit.

Chapter 24

R
emy swallowed hard. Her insides

churned and sloshed and she could

hardly draw a breath. The heat of the day

was at its height, for it was just past

noon—ten hours before the deadline.

She wanted to get it over with.

She wanted to know Envy was going

to be safe.

She wanted to be gone before she had

to see Wyatt again.

Ian glanced down at her as they

walked out of the gates of Envy. His

eyes appeared strained, and not simply

because of the sun blazing down on

them. She knew that for all his harsh

comments and selfishness, he was

concerned for her too. And, knowing Ian,

concerned for himself as well.

The semicircle of five Humvees

were in plain sight, less than a half mile

from the city. Guards stood in front of

them with rifles, halfway between the

gate and their vehicles. Close enough

that Remy could see their faces.

She hoped to hell they wouldn’t shoot

until they found out who she was.

Ian must have had the same thought,

for he raised his hand in greeting and

called out the name of one of the bounty

hunters who stood there. Although his

wave was acknowledged, the firearms

remained upright and at the ready.

Apparently his peers didn’t trust Ian

any more than she did, when it came

down to it.

She walked across the thick green

grass and felt the walls of Envy rise

behind her. She was not going to think

about what she was doing. What she was

leaving behind.

It would do no good and it would

only serve to weaken her resolve. Just

one step after the other. Step. Step. Step.

She had to blink hard to hold back

tears. A picklike sensation scraped her

insides hollow as she forced her limbs

into motion. She should be thinking

about what to say and how to conduct

herself with the Strangers, but instead

she was thinking of everything behind

her. Her new friends. Her beloved dog.