Sleight (27 page)

INSTINCTIVELY I RAISED my hands to protect myself, and threw my knack influence in front of me.

Although I was busy considering all of the other crazy that was unwinding around me, the result was pretty cool. The bolt of energy that Sawyer directed at me splashed sideways and burst into a cloud of bright sparks.

I was still standing.

“Crap,” mumbled Sawyer.

I was preparing to congratulate myself when he regrouped and sent a pair of bolts at me. I deflected one, but the other pushed through the edge of my knack influence and took me in the stomach, knocking me to the floor. Gasping for breath, my head spun and I fought to stay conscious.

Laying on my side, paralyzed, I watched Sawyer grab the knife and cut through the ties that were holding the woman. She stood up and started to walk past me, then stopped and turned, taking a step back toward me.

“What are you doing? We don’t have time!” Sawyer blurted, stopping halfway to the library entrance.

She gave him a disgusted look and then stared at me on the floor. She pointed a sculpted finger nail at me and grinned. “I think you might be the one I’ve been looking for. I’ll see you soon.” And then she swept out of the library, Sawyer following behind. 

Brock was still down, and not moving. The Kenwoode thing was growling and thrashing, like a mechanical toy that was running out of juice. The smoke wafting from Danton’s chest had thinned out to a lacey tendril that drifted toward the ceiling. He didn’t move. Rolling onto my back I sat up and bit back a gasp. I looked down at my shirt. There was a hole burned through it and the skin was blistering. Turning over, I got to my knees I crawled over to Danton. I felt a huge responsibility for him. He’d had no idea what he was getting into. He was breathing and although his jacket and shirt were a mess there wasn’t much damage to his skin. I was sure Brock would recover. Kenwoode had stopped moving, but I could see his massive chest rising and falling. I couldn’t let the mystery woman get away. Rising shakily to my feet I stumbled after them.

When I lurched out of the entrance of the library I saw Constance on the floor, struggling to her feet.

“She took my legs out from under me. That...that...bi...” she frowned, and then pointed down the entry hall. “That way.”

I limped to the entrance hall and stopped, Breno was shambling toward me from the hallway to the living quarters.

“What’s happenin’ Benny?” he asked, his forehead crinkled into a mass of worry.

“Not now. Get back in your room!” I barked. The front door to the apartment suite was still closed. At the opposite end of the entry hall the door that led to the rooftop garden was wide open. A pair of high heels thrown to one side testified to the redhead’s practicality.

“Is it the bad lady?” Breno whispered.

“No, now go back to your room and lock the door,” I said and ran to the stairs leading up to the roof.

My heart was pounding and my breath came in sandpapery dry gasps. I used the handrail to pull myself up the wrought iron spiral staircase, the smell of my sweat and the metal hanging in the air.

When I got to the top of the stairs the door to the roof was ajar and I stumbled out into the night air. The misting rain, the scent of evergreens, and the sound of leafless maple branches rubbing against each other made the familiar setting seem ominous. Why they had run to the roof instead of heading down was confusing. Why head up and allow themselves to be cornered?

I was frantic as I scanned the garden. I had trouble making out details because the lights were off and the moonless sky provided only a black backdrop. Taking a step back to the doorway I felt with my hand and found the light switch.

The roof exploded in light from a thousand tiny bulbs strung in the trees and bushes. It cast a beautiful golden glow through the greenery. At the far end of the garden the redheaded woman and Sawyer were standing near the edge of the roof, looking out over the street.

“Stop!” I yelled.

Sawyer whipped his head in my direction, while the woman just glanced back over her shoulder and grinned. Her lack of concern might have wounded my pride if I’d stopped to think about it. I was just trying to figure out how the hell they were planning to escape.

They turned back to look up, reacting to something I couldn’t see, and then two dark shapes dropped out of the sky, landing behind them. The two delicate figures were barely over five feet tall and very slender. Their means of flying or gliding appeared to be some kind of rigid material that flared behind them. Their clothing was a dark green, almost black, their heads were covered too, making them hard to see.

Moving quickly and silently they split up. One approached Sawyer, who threw his arms around the much smaller person. The other ran to the woman, and they all headed toward the edge of the roof.

The dark figure with Sawyer stretched out both arms and the wing-like material behind it snapped taut in the wind. Sawyer clung to its waist and they started to lift off the roof. Running toward them I thrust out with my knack and attempted to collapse its wings. The redhead and her companion were a few feet away, stepping to the edge of the roof.

I split my focus between the two pairs and achieved partial success. They all bounced up and down in the wind but couldn’t get airborne.

That was when things went bad.

Again.

Sawyer used his knack to guide a lance of energy at me, which I deflected, but it caused me to lose my focus on the other pair. Freed from my interference they lifted up, while Sawyer and his partner dropped to the roof in a tangle of arms and legs.

“Stop!” I yelled again, like that was going to work. Casting out with my knack toward the redhead and the shadowy figure who were floating away, I tried to foul their progress. Although the winged shape wobbled they continued to drift up into the dark sky.

Swiveling my attention back to Sawyer and his accomplice, I heard footsteps behind me.

The first gunshot caught me completely by surprise, deafening me and forcing me to my knees. A roaring in my ears muffled Danton’s shout as I watched him fire again, too dazed to interfere with the gun even if I’d wanted to. Judging from his aim it looked as though he had only fired warning shots.

Startled by Danton’s gunshots, the person or thing that was carrying the woman screamed. Twisting in midair it let go of her. Both flailed wildly, their screams creating a nails-on-chalkboard duet as they fell out of sight. Sawyer and his partner recovered while I was trying to pull my wits together. Holding hands, they ran to the edge of the roof, and dove over the side.

I got to my feet and stumbled toward the roofline where they had all disappeared, Danton staggered after me.

When I reached the low wall that ran the length of the roof I gripped the edge and looked over. I couldn’t see them anywhere.

Sawyer, the redheaded woman and the two flying whatevers were gone.

I ALLOWED MYSELF to sink down, my hands gripping the low wall. Danton bent over the edge, his right hand clutching his chest. He looked down and swore.

Reaching into his jacket he pulled out his cell and stared at it in disgust. The plastic case was melted and the glass screen had a hole in it.

“Ruined,” he said to no one. Frowning, he offered a hand to help me get to my feet.

“Thanks,” I said. “Danton, I—”

“Don’t,” he growled. “Later.” He lurched toward the doorway that led to the stairwell.

His jacket and shirt were a mess, burned from Sawyer’s electrical blast. He looked down and shook his head. My mind was spinning trying to put together an explanation that made sense. Yeah, I gave that up after a few seconds and tried to come up with an alternate plan for damage control. I had nothing. A bunch of secrets were totally out there now, with no way to un-ring those bells. Life was going to change, and probably not for the better.

“Danton I think we need to check on...” Whoops. Check on what? How did I explain Kenwoode? Or
anything
he’d seen for that matter.

Cocking an eyebrow he just waited for me to finish my sentence. When I didn’t he made a frustrated sound. “Exactly,” he said, pointing out what both of us knew: there was no explanation that was going to come out sounding believable.

Giving my shoulder a push he said, “Back downstairs. I need a phone.”

A few minutes later we were standing in the library. It was empty which I was okay with other than the fact that I had no idea whether Kenwoode had survived. Danton’s stony silence shut down any chit chat. Watching him I had the uneasy feeling that he was getting ready to lose it. He stood there, gaping at the empty room. He’d been doing a real good job on the frowning scale, like maybe an eight or a nine. He surprised me with an entirely new level of pissed off.

“Where are they?” he snarled, breathing hard.

“And I should know that because...?” I asked. I was just as confused as he was, but for different reasons.

“No more games, Benny. You don’t get a pass on this. I discharged my sidearm. I shot someone. I saw someone fall to what should have been their death. I saw...I saw stuff here that needs an explanation.”

Rubbing the back of my neck I said, “They might be in one of the bedrooms. Constance...Doctor Santome is probably trying to patch up...work on...trying to help.” I shrugged, realizing I wasn’t making any sense.

“Show me,” he said, shaking his head.

When we entered the hall to the bedrooms, Breno was peeking around the door to his room. Quickly reassuring him I asked him to sit tight and close the door. I was thankful when he did as I asked without any argument. We headed down the hall to Mr. Goodturn’s room, where the door had been left open.

We found most of the group inside. Kenwoode wasn’t present.

Mr. Goodturn was in his bed, sitting up, and alert. Brock was slouched in a chair looking nauseous while Constance stood next to him, shining a small flashlight in his eyes.

“All right everyone, I’m detective Danton of the SPD. I need to borrow a phone. And then I’m going to speak with each of you about what’s been going on here,” Danton said, his shoulders squared, trying to look authoritative despite his ragged appearance.

Mr. Goodturn shifted slightly under his covers, and smiled at Danton. “I’m afraid we can’t allow you to make that call detective. No matter how noble your intentions might be.”

I looked at Danton wondering how he would respond to that, surprised at his silence.

Then I looked at his eyes, which were bugging out. His chest was heaving and his hands trembled at his sides. I’d seen Mr. Goodturn do this particular trick a year ago, but it was unsettling to see it used on someone I knew. Danton was being held in place by my mentor’s knack.

Constance paused in her fussing over Brock, who let his head fall back, eyes closed.

Waving a hand in apology, Mr. Goodturn looked a little embarrassed. “I regret forcing my will upon you, detective. I detest using my knack this way unless it is for my own preservation, or the protection of others. And unfortunately I think that in this situation those rules apply.”

Danton shook slightly, his face shining with sweat.

Mr. Goodturn looked at Danton like a patient grandfather counseling a fussy grandchild. “I’m prepared to make you an offer detective. It’s something I’ve done a few times in the past. Benjamin trusts you. I know this because I know him and can see he holds you in high regard.” He paused. “However this offer carries some responsibility and a burden that may be difficult for you.” He sighed. “I dislike doing this while you cannot speak on your own behalf. If I release you will you be civil?”

Although I couldn’t hear it I assumed that there was a telepathic agreement between the two of them because Danton’s head jerked suddenly and he stepped awkwardly to one side, like someone catching their balance.

He glanced at me, then at Mr. Goodturn. Constance looked on, her lips parted in anticipation of his reaction. Brock groaned and threw an arm over his eyes.

“I’m not agreeing to anything until I know what you’re talking about,” Danton said.

Smiling, Mr. Goodturn nodded. “Fair enough, but full disclosure here detective: your choices are limited. I cannot let you share what you’ve observed or anything that I am prepared to tell you.”

Danton scowled. “Get to it.”

I was wondering exactly how this was going to unfold. What offer was he going to make and why was he even considering it? Danton getting to a phone and launching a full scale investigation would create havoc. And unleash a level of scrutiny that none of us wanted.

“First, you need to know that I have the capability to cause you to forget everything you’ve witnessed here tonight. You would be spared the burden of reconciling what you know of the world with what you’ve seen. There are secrets that have been hidden from normal society for centuries. If you desire to keep your memory of what’s transpired here you will not be allowed to discuss it with anyone, except for those of us who have been here this evening.”

“You’d wipe my memory?” Danton snorted, clearly doubting what he’d just been told.

Mr. Goodturn shook his head. “No. Just the events that took place in this building. And only those you witnessed this evening.”

“Right,” Danton said. His eyes travelled from each of our faces as though looking for confirmation. I nodded when he made eye contact with me.

Clearing his throat Mr. Goodturn continued, “If you choose to retain your memories you’ll also be accepting a role, perhaps small, perhaps large, in a conflict that I’ve spent my life trying to prevent.”

I could practically hear the wheels grinding in Danton’s head. “Conflict,” he said.

Pursing his lips Mr. Goodturn nodded. “Yes. But if you aren’t comfortable with the potential difficulties I’ve described, you can just choose to forget everything and enjoy the rest of your life and be none the wiser.”

“None the wiser,” Danton repeated. “I don’t like the way that sounds.”

Mr. Goodturn shrugged.

Danton rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck, an athlete’s habit. “You said if I agree, that I’m going to have some kind of role in all this craziness. Small or big, you said. Which would it be?”

Mr. Goodturn’s smile disappeared and he looked sternly at Danton. “That detective would depend entirely upon you.”