Purpose (30 page)

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Authors: Andrew Q Gordon

BOOK: Purpose
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The urge to hunt him down had to wait. After he’d yelled at Ryan to leave, his walking back into the danger zone instead of escaping would be impossible to justify. Somehow, Barrington had figured out he wasn’t an incorporeal spirit. The carefully planned ambush made clear they knew he was invisible, not insubstantial. That changed things dramatically.

A five-foot-high, rectangular metal structure covered most of the half-block-long rooftop. Will kept low, hugging the side of the building to minimize his exposure. On the north end, he found the door leading into the hotel, locked from the inside. If the hotel had any kind of security, and he felt certain it did, he’d set off an alarm if he yanked it open. With Barrington and his men on alert, he needed to find another way down.

Eight stories was higher than he’d ever attempted to jump. It would probably hurt, but he was reasonably sure he’d survive… reasonably. Bad time, however, to test his limits. Even if he survived, if he was hurt too badly, he’d be unable to keep hidden. An injured or unconscious man suddenly appearing out of thin air was sure to land him in an FBI detention facility. No, he needed a third option. If not, he’d rip open the door and run like mad to get away before he was discovered.

Slinking along the edge of the building, he peered over the edge, searching for a way down. North Capital was not an option. Not only was it swimming in police and fire personnel, he was reasonably sure the sniper posts were trained on that side of the building. Massachusetts Avenue had fewer officers and wider sidewalks, but there was nothing for him to use to scale down. That left the back alley.

The hotel had little for him to shimmy down, but the building across from it might be his ticket. Several pipes ran the length of the brick wall. They each appeared sturdy enough to hold his weight, but even if they weren’t, he’d be able to get low enough to survive the drop.

Jumping over, he knew there was nothing he could do about the sound, so he distracted the officers below by amplifying the sound of sirens in their mind. The pipe groaned, and he could see the screws pulling out of the mortar near his hands.

Will let his feet dangle away from the wall to minimize the pull on the pipe. Before the first screw could pop, he began his descent. His superior strength and coordination allowed him to repel down the building without pulling the pipe away from the brick surface.

Although not free yet, being among bodies, even hostile ones, brought him a moment’s respite. Barrington wouldn’t risk shooting randomly into a crowd of officers, assuming he even noticed Will. No way would his men agree to do it, anyway.

Skirting the officers searching the alley, he exited onto Massachusetts Avenue and turned right. Despite the press of police in the area, Will needed to see if Griffin had been hurt. He’d made the man walk away well before the blast, but that didn’t mean he’d escaped unscathed.

It took him a few minutes to sort through the EMTs and other rescue people, but he found the detective talking to a high-ranking police official. Unless Will was mistaken, he was the deputy chief of police.

“Griffin,” he said, preventing the detective from turning to look for him. “I’m glad you’re okay. Agent Barrington arranged this to catch me. Don’t call me again. I’ll find a way to contact you in the next day or so. In the meantime, don’t let on you suspect it was him. It might be hazardous to your health.”

He knew Griffin could hear him, so he released his hold on the man. “Nod once if you understand.”

Without turning, the detective nodded once, but kept his focus on his superior.

“Good. Stay safe.”

Again, he resisted the temptation to find Barrington and make him pay. Instead, he searched for the man’s mind. One time inside a person’s head was all Will needed to reestablish a link.

“Gotcha.”

Using Barrington’s eyes, he located his position. The coward was well back, in case things didn’t work out.

“You failed, Agent Barrington.” He made sure his words were “heard” by the agent. “All you’ve done is make me angry. Have you ever seen a spirit of vengeance angry? I’d finish this now, but there are too many innocent people in the area. Unlike you, I don’t find collateral damage acceptable. But sleep with an eye open and a gun under your pillow, not that it will do you any good. I’ll find you soon enough.”

Still connected, he saw through the man’s eyes as he searched frantically for Will. The attempt was futile. He didn’t know what Will looked like. Three times, Will locked eyes with the agent, but Barrington couldn’t see.

Releasing the link, Will navigated his way through the maze of officers and squad cars. Once clear, he started to run, then stopped. Arm raised, he had to wait a minute before a taxi stopped.

“Columbia and 18th, Northwest.” Handing a twenty over the seat, he waited for the confused man to look back. “Get me there with a minimum of talking, and you can keep the change.”

If Barrington’s men managed to track down this cab driver, they were in for a shock. Smirking, he knew they’d never speak to the man, but if they did, they’d have to wonder why Special Agent Barrington took a cab right to Adams Morgan.

28

 

“A
RE
you sure?” Ryan chewed his bottom lip, staring at the floor.

“Sure? No.” He’d thought his boyfriend would be happy. Showed how wrong he could be. “But, given what happened tonight, I think it’s the right thing to do.”

“I can’t believe they almost killed you.” The way his jaw clicked, Ryan was clearly mad. “You should have put the fear of… of… well, you, in Barrington.”

He tried not to snort, but it came out anyway. “Are you serious? Did you just tell me you wished I’d gone back into the middle of their ambush? I mean, I wanted to, but I knew you’d be furious. Well, at least I
thought
that’s how you’d feel if I hadn’t left when I did.”

He retrieved the water pitcher from the refrigerator and held it up. When Ryan nodded, he grabbed two glasses.

“You know I’m glad you didn’t go back, but still.” He took the glass Will offered. “It’s just, well, I hate that guy. Why can’t he leave us alone?”

Nearly spitting water everywhere, Will started to laugh. “Think of it from his perspective. He’s the FBI, and he’s hunting what he thinks is a serial killer.”

That stifled his smile. It wasn’t just what Barrington thought. Will actually was a serial killer. “I know you don’t see me like that, but I suppose technically….”

“Will….”

Will shook his head and paused to take a drink. “It’s okay. I know what I’ve become. It’s why I retreated behind Gar. I tried to rationalize it, told myself I only kill the guilty or that if I hadn’t done it, the Purpose would subjugate someone else, but that’s all it is, a rationalization. If killing is bad, I’m the worst person in this country.”

“You’re not a bad person, Will.” There was conviction in Ryan’s voice, but Will knew his view was tainted. He felt Ryan’s hand on his. “I know the real Will, and you’re not the person Barrington sees when he looks at the numbers.”

He put his hand over Ryan’s. “Whatever I am, we need to move. If we’re going to find a way to feed
Them
without killing, I don’t think it’s smart to stay here.”

“Not that I have any great attachment to here, but why?”

“In the short term, he’s going to be scouring DC, looking for… me.” He almost said, “us,” but it was unlikely Barrington knew about Ryan, and even if he did, Ryan hadn’t done anything. “I don’t think he knows exactly what I am yet, but after tonight, I think he knows if he can find me, he might be able to get me.”

From the slight increase in pressure on his hand, he knew Ryan was worried again.

“Really?”

Ignoring his instinct to minimize the danger, he took a deep breath. “For whatever reason, luck, a hunch, trial and error, whatever, Barrington found a way to get a lock on me. I wasn’t anticipating a trap. Hell, I wasn’t thinking we’d have any trouble, or I could have prevented it. Not that they should feel too confident. I mean, I got away without leaving even a drop of blood, but they knew something was there.”

“Yeah,” Ryan snorted. “Something they didn’t come close to catching.”

“True, and it’s possible they didn’t know what to make of their success. Was it a true lock? Did I let them find me so I could spoil their trap? How did I escape unscathed? The questions raised by this operation probably outnumber the ones it answered. That said, it was at the least a minor success, and that will embolden them to try again.”

Twirling the half-empty glass, Ryan stared at the spinning water. After several seconds, he nodded. “Like I said, there’s nothing keeping me here. I almost took your money that first day and left for Seattle. Would you consider going there?”

Ryan raised his eyes and smiled. Returning the look, Will stood up, pulling his boyfriend with him. “Seattle it is, but that’s enough talk for tonight. If I remember correctly”—he arched an eyebrow—“and I’m sure I do, you promised to get naked for me.”

The smirk he got in return sent blood rushing to his groin. “I lied.”

“Oh?” Will stood up, heart racing. “Did you?”

“Yeah,” Ryan whispered once they got to the bedroom, his lips almost against Will’s ear. “You need to undress me if you want me.”

 

 

“W
HY
do we always have this argument?” He stopped checking the weapons stored in the inner pockets of his coat. “I’m just going to talk to Griffin.”

Ryan wore just his boxers, and his hair was still a mess. “We have this
discussion
so much, because you forget I’m not helpless.”

“I know you’re not, but it is so much safer for you
inside
.” What was so difficult about that idea?

“My Purpose isn’t trying to kill me anymore.” Ryan started to shiver, prompting Will to toss him a sweatshirt.

“If you insist on rehashing this, at least stay warm.” Once, just once, he wished Ryan would listen to him. Will knew the dangers of being a host. Ryan didn’t.

“Don’t think you’re going to change the subject.” Ryan quickly put on the fleece jacket and zipped it up. “I’m not in danger, and I’m not going out looking to avenge anyone. But I’m not staying inside until you get home. It’s not like you need to protect me every minute of the day.”

Everything Ryan said was true, but something nagged at him. It bothered him enough that he asked his Purpose if
It
was trying to warn him. But
It
said it didn’t have premonitions about events it didn’t put in motion.

“Okay, you’re right.” He tried not to sound as defeated as he felt. “I’m overreacting.”

He leaned closer and kissed Ryan’s cheek.

“Just be safe.”

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Says the man who’s walking into police headquarters armed to the teeth.”

“Smartass kid.”

“Grouchy old man.”

Another kiss and he left. He still felt out of sorts, like he was missing something important. Nothing
seemed
wrong, and he was not clairvoyant, but something still twisted his inner balance. Maybe he needed to do more Tai Chi.

Putting distance between themselves and Barrington made sense, but in the last few weeks he’d earned the trust and cooperation of Detective Griffin. That made it easier to deal with the feeding needs of his Purpose. If it took too long to find the right situation wherever they settled, he’d have to find a law enforcement officer he could trust or go back to killing the guilty.

Either could attract the attention of the ever-hopeful Special Agent Barrington. Then again, last night probably earned Griffin a bit of notice. Helping a known killer could land him in trouble. Assuming Barrington could prove the killer existed, which he couldn’t.

Definitely time to move on. Things were getting too complicated.

The cab ride to the Violent Crimes Branch gave him time to think. He didn’t recall being this sentimental about moving to a new city since… since never. Gar had already taken over by the time he left Philadelphia. He’d also never worked with anyone to bring the guilty to justice. Killing people made it hard to work with the police.

Griffin almost certainly wouldn’t be there, but a call from work would arouse much less suspicion for those tapping his phone. Sneaking in the second time was a lot simpler than the first. Quietly making his way to Griffin’s desk, he made sure everyone who looked his way “saw” someone they expected and ignored him. Tapping a few keys on his new box, he set it by the government-issued phone and called the detective.

“Griffin.” He sounded confused, as he should be, getting a call from his desk phone. At least he didn’t seem injured.

After Will touched one last key, the silver box hummed briefly. “Good morning, Detective. I’m glad you weren’t hurt last night.”

The long pause told him Griffin knew his phones were tapped. “Why are you calling me from my desk?”

“Don’t worry. I’ve made sure this line is clean. No one can hear what we say other than you and I.” Another pause. Should he keep going, or would Griffin respond? He heard a small sigh, bringing a smile to his face.

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