Relentless (45 page)

Hannah was overcome. He could see the shock in her face. The question. She knew what she
deserved
and it wasn’t this . . .

Her body went limp, breaking into sobs so violent that she shook uncontrollably, and she wasn’t holding herself up by her own power . . .

No, Grant was doing that.

He was holding her tight. And he was shaking and sobbing as well.

‘‘I’m sorry!’’ she wailed, head buried in his chest. ‘‘
Please
, Grant— I’m
so
sorry! I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry . . .’’ She continued to blurt it out between heaving breaths until she had no more strength or words or breath.

When she finally stopped, he whispered in her ear.

‘‘It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay now.’’

57

Very late that night and into the early morning hours, Matthew Drexel attended a scheduled rendezvous, made the drop, and then checked his watch as he struggled to get into the backseat of his car.

‘‘Let’s go,’’ he growled at his driver. He was running late.

He rubbed his aching back as the driver took him to his next destination. He was still suffering from his run-in with Grant and Payton over a week ago, and he’d taken to using a cane to get around.

He knew the address of the meeting was among some warehouses on the outskirts of the city, so when his driver raised his eyebrows at the neighborhood, Drexel growled for him to keep his eyes on the road. This lead and the money it might offer were too good not to check out. Besides, he’d been in places far worse than this.

A dozen minutes later, his car pulled up next to a sagging old building and Drexel got out.

He was overcome by the desire not to stay in this place one minute longer than necessary. The building left him feeling . . . unsettled. But he couldn’t put his finger on why.

Drexel approached the door and rapped his knuckles on it five times, as instructed.

The door opened to reveal a dark interior.

‘‘Enter,’’ a voice commanded.

‘‘What is this?’’ Drexel said, put off by the lack of visibility inside the building.

He received no answer, and was about to turn around when something crashed into his head from behind. He lurched and wobbled, and fell to his knees, seeing stars.

‘‘What the—!’’ he yelled.

Immediately two sets of hands were lifting him from under his arms and dragging him forward into the pitch-black interior.

They reached the center of the room, and the two who held him threw him forward, onto the ground. His eyes could see very little, but the room seemed like an abandoned warehouse with a shorter ceiling. Empty. He couldn’t see far past the shadows before his face.

The shadows moved again and a fist landed square in his nose. He yelped and tried crawling away, but another set of hands grabbed his feet and dragged him back. And then what had to be no less than three men—
strong
men, to be able to take a big guy like him down—were everywhere at once, all over him, punching, kicking, bashing. A tooth was knocked loose. His legs screamed in agony as they were kicked again and again. Fists landed across his chest and stomach.

Minutes passed and then suddenly they stopped.

Then without a word, the three shadowy figures walked away, leaving him lying there.

A bright spotlight from somewhere above switched on and bathed him in light.

He spit blood out of his mouth to the side and squinted, peering out into the darkness.

‘‘How does it feel?’’ a voice called out of the dark.

‘‘Who are you!’’ Drexel demanded. ‘‘What is this?’’

A figure approached out of the darkness, bearing down on him where he still lay on the floor.

But the figure wasn’t walking. He was rolling in a wheelchair.

He came into view and Drexel recognized him.

‘‘I want to tell you a story, Mr. Drexel,’’ said Daniel, rolling his new wheelchair just out of Drexel’s reach. A pistol rested in his lap.

‘‘Cossick,’’ Drexel said, piecing it together. ‘‘Do you have any idea what I’m going to—’’

‘‘It’s a good story, full of blood, violence, and adult content. Right up your alley,’’ Daniel said, cold and unwavering. ‘‘So
shut up
and listen.’’

Daniel’s eyes pierced furiously into Drexel, but Drexel stubbornly held his gaze.

‘‘Once upon a time,’’ Daniel began, ‘‘there was a boy named Daniel. He was a happy little toddler until one day when he crawled up to an electrical outlet and stuck his finger inside. Afterward, the doctor told his parents that he was lucky to be alive. He took his first steps a few days later.’’

Drexel eyed the crippled man warily. He had no idea what this game was, but he didn’t like where it was going.

‘‘Daniel grew up and went to college. One morning on the way to class, his car was slammed into by an eighteen-wheeler. The car was smashed beyond repair, and the truck took heavy damage as well. But Daniel walked away from that accident with only a few cuts and scrapes. The police deemed it a fluke, ‘one-in-a-million’ they called it.’’

Daniel watched the man on the ground with contempt, everything inside him wanting to
spit
on this waste of human flesh.

‘‘Three weeks ago, Daniel came down the stairs of this very building from his lab on the second floor and walked outside, where three thugs beat him within an inch of his life. It happened right out there—outside the very door you walked through just a few minutes ago.’’

A young brunette Drexel recognized as Cossick’s assistant appeared from behind the wheelchair and raised up the footrests in front. Daniel very slowly and gingerly placed his legs—still in their casts—down onto the cold concrete floor. The brunette braced the chair from the back as he pulled himself up by his arms. Then she produced crutches.

Carefully, he took a few baby steps forward to face Drexel at arm’s length, leaning heavily on his crutches. The brunette stayed behind the chair, watching him with a motherly concern that made Drexel want to wretch.

‘‘You can knock me down as many times as you want. But I promise you, I will always—
always
—get back up.’’

‘‘If you’re going to kill me, just do it already so I don’t have to listen to any—’’

He stopped. And blinked.

They weren’t alone in this enormous room. Over a dozen figures emerged from the shadows, forming a circle that surrounded him.

‘‘Listen, we can just—’’

‘‘It’s not a good feeling, is it?’’ Daniel asked, leisurely waving the gun about. ‘‘To be all alone. In the dark. Outnumbered. These are my new friends, by the way,’’ he gestured wide to the circle. ‘‘All of
them
have stories, too. I bet you don’t even remember Sarah here,’’ he said, and a young woman stepped into the light. Daniel was right; Drexel didn’t recognize her.

‘‘But I’m sure you remember her mother, Joanna,’’ Daniel said. ‘‘She was raped to death by a thug who broke into her home and stole a big-screen TV, a computer, and a few hundred dollars. The culprit was a ‘friend’ of yours, so you had Sarah’s father framed for the crime.’’

Drexel wanted to back away from them all, but there was nowhere to go. They were everywhere.

‘‘Or how about young Will,’’ Daniel continued as a young boy slid into view atop a skateboard. ‘‘His older brother was one of your fellow officers. Yeah, I’m sure you remember him. He tried to take you down a few years ago, but he and his wife both died in a freak car accident. An
accident
!’’ Daniel repeated, underscoring his thoughts on that word.

‘‘We could go on like this for hours. You’ve ruined so many lives . . . but you always got away with it. Those connections with the higher-ups pay off, don’t they? When you get results.’’

‘‘I just do what I’m told, that’s all I’ve ever done.’’

‘‘Nobody in the Los Angeles police—’’

Drexel stopped him with a sour laugh. ‘‘The force?’’ He shook his head, watching Daniel’s growing awareness. ‘‘Doctor, you need to think a little bigger.’’

Daniel was stunned. ‘‘All this time,’’ Daniel said, aghast, ‘‘even before you met Grant or me . . .’’

‘‘We
all
answer to someone,’’ Drexel said, a smile teasing the corners of his lips. ‘‘What? You’re shocked and appalled that I was able to keep my true loyalties a secret?’’

Drexel let out a single chuckle.

‘‘You work for the Keeper.’’

‘‘We
all
work for the Keeper, little man. Since minute one with you and your friends, we’ve been feeding into his plans. You’re working for him
right now
, doing his dirty work, tying up a loose end that he won’t have to contend with.’’

‘‘Loose end. . . ?’’ Daniel said. He looked at Drexel differently. ‘‘What have you done?’’

‘‘Don’t you read the newspapers?’’ Drexel grinned. ‘‘Your friends were involved and everything . . .’’

‘‘You were behind the arson at the asylum,’’ Daniel gasped. He swallowed, realizing something else. ‘‘You hired Konrad!
You took the
Dominion Stone!
’’

‘‘At
any
cost,’’ he said. ‘‘Though the higher the better, I always find.’’

‘‘Where is it?’’ Daniel asked. Drexel had turned his back to him. He could hear the hatred in Daniel’s voice. That was good. He had him upset, thinking poorly.

‘‘You’re
the Ph.D. Where do you
think
?’’

‘‘The Keeper,’’ Daniel whispered.

He has the tablet
.

Drexel suddenly moved, retrieving a gun from an ankle holster. This punk was in over his head. He spun quickly to face Daniel . . .

And Daniel shot him between the eyes.

Everyone froze as Drexel’s body snapped backward and slammed into the ground.

Lisa’s mouth was hanging open, but she couldn’t move. It was almost as if by not moving, she could undo what had just happened.

Daniel still pointed the gun at Drexel’s body, an inhuman expression on his face.

Lisa walked slowly forward for a closer look at Drexel’s massive body, sprawled out on the floor. Blood poured slowly from the hole in his forehead. His eyes were still open. But he wasn’t breathing.

‘‘He’s dead . . .’’ she despaired, turning to Daniel in disbelief. ‘‘You killed him!’’

Daniel was locked in an emotion somewhere between shock, sickness, and satisfaction.

He’d really done it.

And he’d
meant
it.

Daniel brought his good hand up to cover his mouth as he searched an empty spot on the floor ahead. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

He felt like doing both.

58

Grant found a new vigor and sense of urgency the next morning, after sleeping deeply for the first time in weeks.

His first action was to track down Morgan and invite her and as many of the Loci as they could find to come to his apartment. Then he checked in with his sister at the hospital; she was showing increased brain activity, indicating deep dreams. The doctors said she could wake anytime. On his way back to the apartment, around mid-morning, he stopped at Daniel and Lisa’s to ask them to come to the meeting as well. Lisa came to the door having just been roused from her bed by the doorbell. Apparently, she and Daniel had had some kind of very long night.

By early afternoon he was welcoming Hannah into his apartment for the meeting.

‘‘Am I early?’’ she said, at his door.

‘‘Not too bad,’’ he smiled. ‘‘Morgan and the others should be here soon. I’ve offered to let as many of them stay here in the Wagner Building as we have space for. We need to talk things through and figure out where to go from here.’’

‘‘You mean us?’’ she asked, alarmed.

‘‘No, the
group
. As in, what’s our next step. With the prophecy and everything.’’

‘‘Oh. Right,’’ she let out a breath and turned a pinkish shade of red. ‘‘Well, look at that, I made us both uncomfortable. Way to go, me.’’ She laughed nervously.

He smiled, but said nothing.

‘‘How’s Payton?’’ she asked.

‘‘Too stubborn to die, I believe is the way Morgan described it. He should be all right. He’s coming to the meeting, in fact, against doctor’s orders.’’

‘‘
I
wouldn’t want to be the one who tried to keep him away,’’ she smiled.

They stared at each other for an awkward moment.

‘‘Grant?’’ she asked, taking a seat next to him on the couch. ‘‘I was wondering something . . . about whether something
else
besides just me could ever be put back together . . .’’

She didn’t have to say any more; he knew exactly where she was going.

‘‘I honestly don’t know,’’ he said. ‘‘Forgiveness is one thing, but with everything that’s happening, I don’t know if it’s a good idea for us to . . .’’ He couldn’t bring himself to say the rest.

‘‘I understand,’’ she nodded, looking away. ‘‘It’s a shame, though. We never even had a first kiss.’’

He blushed.

‘‘But you’re right,’’ she concluded, nervously standing up. ‘‘It’s way too soon,
not
a good idea. I don’t know what I was thinking . . .’’ she let out a nervous breath.

She walked away, but Grant followed, reaching to grab hold of her arm.

‘‘I know
exactly
what you were thinking,’’ he said, pulling her close.

‘‘Because it’s all I can think about, too.’’

The world and all its sights and sounds and concerns and logic and reason faded to nothing, and it was simply
happening
.

Grant’s heart pounded so loudly that blood rushed past his ears, but all he cared about was her lips on his and . . .

Before he got the smallest taste of her, the apartment door slammed shut.

They jumped apart, and twisted to face the door.

Alex stood there, her clothes hanging in tatters. She was breathing hard, unable to catch her breath.

She had a nasty black eye, she bled from a swollen lip, bruises covered what could be seen of her arms, and she stumbled toward them, limping, about to collapse.

‘‘It’s happening!’’ she gasped. ‘‘The end of everything . . .’’

Grant caught her and lowered her to the ground.

She closed her eyes, but before unconsciousness swallowed her, she whispered:

‘‘It’s happening
now
.’’