The Awakening (40 page)

He kept spinning, fighting, struggling, but in time, he thought, it was going to end. There were only so many blows he could take before he went down himself. Only the thought of Megan, out there, somewhere, without him, kept him moving. They weren't going to win. They couldn't have her.

And still . . .

When it seemed a total loss, he became aware that bodies were flying all around him. His volunteer ally had an incredible strength. Finn wasn't about to give up his own fight; there had been too many of the caped and cowled figures after him.

And then, he took a jab at someone standing in front of him. Someone in a long black cape, no hood or cowl.

“It's all right!”

A hand fell on his wrist, stopping the blow he would have sent flying. “It's me,” Lucian said.

Finn stopped and stared, shaking then with it all over, and furious. He looked blankly at Lucian.

“You!”

“Yeah, sorry, I suspected something would happen, but the fire took me by surprise. I shouldn't have been so late getting here.”

Finn took that in, still studying the strange new friend who had made men fly through the night. For himself... he had to bend over, grasp his knees, and gasp in every breath. Finally, he could talk.

“Yeah, well, thanks . . . you came. We still should have gotten the shit beat out of us, you know? What the hell—did you work for Jackie Chan or something, spend time training with Ali?”

Lucian shrugged. “You can hold your own yourself,” he told him. “Good thing.”

Finn heard a moan, startling him from his concentration on Lucian. He saw that one hooded figure who remained on the ground. Walking to the man, he flipped him, staring first at the mask, then ripping the mask from his head. By then, Lucian was at his side.

“Know him?” Lucian asked.

“No . . . yes. It's one of the kids working in a novelty shop near Morwenna's witchcraft store,” Finn said. “I've never exchanged so much as a single word with him.” His temper flew again and he bent down. “But we're going to exchange a few words now!”

He went to take the kid's shoulders, shake him back to consciousness. But Lucian's hand landed on his arm.

“You don't need to strangle him, or tear him up.”

“I want to know what's going on. I want to know where Megan is!”

“He won't know.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I don't think he's going to know,” Lucian said calmly. He hunkered down as well, taking the man's cheeks between his long fingers, and rolling the head back and forth. “Hey!” he said.

Eyes opened slowly. The pupils were huge in the darkness, totally disoriented, and then filled with panic. The boy struggled backward on his elbows, staring at Finn and Lucian.

“What do you want? Take my money—it isn't much. I've got a watch, though. A good one. Take what you want, and leave me alone . . . hey, please! Don't . . . don't hurt me. Please.”

“Hurt you!” Finn said incredulously.

“What's your name?” Lucian asked him.

“Peter Davis.”

“What were you doing with that group of thugs?” Lucian said.

“What thugs?” the kid inquired.

“You were with a whole group of people in similar costumes. And you all came and attacked my friend here,” Lucian told Peter.

Either the kid was a great actor, or he was being truthful. He stared at Lucian with sheer amazement. “I wasn't with any group of people in similar costumes! I opted for the cloak and mask tonight because it was easy. I had to work late.” He shook his head, still in confusion and fear. “I came in really late, and then . . .”

He stopped speaking, more confused.

“I remember . . . a fire. Yeah . . . the fire. I remember running from the fire.”

“Bullshit!” Finn roared, about to go for his throat to shake either sense or truth out of him.

But Lucian put a restraining hand on his shoulder. “He really doesn't know,” he said quietly.

“I don't know anything, honestly, and I sure as hell don't know what you're talking about!” Peter said pleadingly. He took a second to survey his surroundings. “I must have run here from the fire. Was I hit on the head? No, man, my jaw hurts . . . and my ribs. Feels like I was gored by an elephant.”

“You attacked me,” Finn told him.

Peter shook his head, staring at Finn. “No man, not me. Hell, look at me, I'm a nerdy little guy, I'd never attack anyone.”

Lucian offered Peter a hand; he came slowly to his feet, still groaning.

Finn would have doubted that Peter's lack of memory could be possible, except that he had seen the kid's eyes.

And suddenly he remembered that he didn't have time to sit here and try to force the kid to say something.

He didn't know where Megan was.

“Let the kid go,” he told Lucian, fear trickling through him again. He was suddenly certain as to why he was attacked, and that was all that mattered. “Or do what you want. I've got to get back there. They've got Megan.”

 

 

“If you don't let me go this instant, you are going to be so sorry!” Megan warned.

Blackness had given way to the night, but they were removed from the scene, hurrying down a dark road.

If he heard her, the man gave no sign.

She was being half dragged, and half led. The man had a grip of steel on her right arm. Panic was beginning to set in again.

She reached into the pocket of her skirt for the little bag of burdock she had gotten from Fallon earlier in the day. Still doubting her own sanity, she managed to pinch a few pieces from the bag and throw them at his eyes.

He frowned, looking down at her as if she were crazy. Either burdock really had no effect on evil spirits, or this was just a regular guy with some superhuman strength.

“What
are
you doing?”

The angle of his face was just right. Unfortunately, she was right-handed, but she still did her best to deliver at least a painful blow to his jaw.

He swore; his grip didn't lessen in the least.

He came to a dead stop, staring at her. “I'm trying to save your life, you idiot!”

“Don't save my life; let me get back to the hotel.”

“Megan, I can't do that. You're in danger there.”

“Let me be the judge.”

“You have to come with me. I'm a friend.”

“Like hell you are.”

He wasn't going to release her. He was an oddly striking man, six feet, maybe six-one, sandy-haired . . . clean-shaven. Respectable looking.

Ted Bundy had been charming, so history reported.

She stared at him another moment, then cast her head back and started screaming at the top of her lungs.

He swore again, telling her to stop.

To add to his dilemma, she dropped. Just dropped. Dead weight, she went to the ground.

He swore again.

But this time, he bent down and scooped her up, throwing her over his shoulder. Her nose crashed into the wool of the coat.

She opened her mouth to scream again but he had started running.

Fast . . . like the wind. They might have been loping, as if she had been tossed over the back of a thoroughbred, or a greyhound.

There was no way she would go down without a fight.

She kept trying to scream.

To claw at his back. But through the wool, her nails couldn't begin to reach flesh to rip. The wind rushed by her.

She tried to see.

But now, a cloud had covered the moon. The fog was thicker than ever.

She was flying at a steady pace . . .

Into an ebony hell.

 

 

“Wait!” Lucian told him firmly. He caught Finn's arm, since Finn was ready to start running again.

“What! Megan is in danger!” Finn shouted, his sense of urgency rising.

“You can't go back to the hotel; Sam Tartan will just have you arrested for arson.”

“Arson!”

“The fire began on the stage—with your equipment.”

“But that's bull!”

“Of course, it's bull. But Tartan will have you arrested. Finn, think. They want you and Megan separated. Get the police in on it, and you're in a jail cell and Megan's . . . out there. Somewhere. Vulnerable.”

“I have to find her!”

“We'll find her. But you have to listen to me.”

Finn stood still, teeth grating so hard they could have snapped. “Who the hell are you?” He demanded furiously. “What are you? How can you keep knowing any of this. Shit! How the hell do I know that you're not a major part of it? How did you throw people around like that? Yeah, you're right. I know something of what I'm doing, but that was a crowd against us. Damn it, tell me now just who—or what—you are.”

Lucian stared back at him. “You don't want to know,” he said quietly. “But this is the truth before any god every honored—you have to trust me now. We're the only friends you've got.”

“Megan—”

“I know where Megan is.”

“Take me to her—now!”

 

 

They were going deeper and deeper into the woods. They'd followed the road—to exactly where, Megan didn't know—and then turned off.

Her captor came to a halt, drawing her back over his shoulder, and setting her down in front of a tree. She would have stood, except that her limbs didn't seem to be working, and so she sank against the bark as he set her down.

He hunkered down before her. She stiffened, ready to fight again. She eyed him carefully, ready to fight with her mind.
He was one of them. He was a liar; he had been held in reserve. She was to be some kind of a sacrifice to Bac-Dal, and this man was going to see that she was kept prisoner until tomorrow at the midnight hour. But that meant she had time to get away.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

Her eyes narrowed. “Oh, yeah, I'm just fine, you asshole. You've abducted me like a sack of meat, thrown me all over, forced me here against my will, but I'm just fine.”

“Look, you haven't met me, so you won't believe this. I am your friend. And you have to trust me for a few minutes now. We're almost at what we believe to be a safe house. I need to make sure that there's no one around the area. Can you stay here, please—I'm begging you—for just a few minutes?”

She looked at him. There was something about him. She wanted to believe him, wanted to trust him.

He'd abducted her.

They were in the woods . . . deep in the woods. And tomorrow was Halloween. She was insane if she trusted him.

But then again, his eyes held some strange power . . .

And emissary of a demon would have power, right? Logically, she didn't believe in demons. But hell, logic was gone, and evil was out there.

She shook her head. “I can't trust you! I need to get to Finn.”

“Megan, Finn will come to you, I swear it.”

So earnest, his words were so earnest. He stood then, as if determining he had to trust her. He disappeared into the woods, silent as a cat in the night.

Right. Finn would come to her. Because someone else had kidnapped Finn. And everyone would believe that they had disappeared on purpose, afraid of repercussions from the fire which had surely gutted half the hotel. It had all been so well planned out.

Lucian had said that something would happen. That they'd never be playing at the hotel at midnight on Halloween.

So . . .

Had Lucian caused the fire? Mike had tried to tell her that Lucian was evil. Mike had tried to help her tonight. Maybe they had been drawn into the dead heat of the fire while trying to escape the smoke.

She set her hands upon the tree trunk, trying to use the support to help her to rise. She came to her feet.

But then she paused.

She could hear . . . footsteps?

Soft crunching . . . like something moving the dying leaves of autumn that littered the forest floor. Someone was coming. Someone moving stealthily. Creeping up on her, slowly, carefully.

A hooded figure, bearing a knife held high, burst into the clearing, running straight at her.

Megan screamed in terror and turned to run.

From behind her, she suddenly heard another scream. She turned, and heard a fierce, deep snarling sound. She turned back.

The fog had settled over the clearing. But she thought she saw . . .

A dog.

A giant dog. Ripping into the caped entity that had been running toward her with the knife.

 

 

“This is insane,” Finn said. They were in Lucian's rental car, curving around a winding road in the gray darkness that not even the moon could penetrate. “Why would Megan have driven out here?” He looked at Lucian suspiciously. “I don't care who or what you are, but if anything happens to Megan, I'll find a way to kill you before I die, so help me.”

Lucian cast him a glance that was chilling. “We're trying really hard to save your fool lives—and others as well, since the rebirth of a demon could be deadly to hundreds of people for decades to come.”

“Why would Megan be in the woods?” Finn insisted angrily, refusing to be cowed, no matter the ice fire in the guy's strange eyes.

“I have a friend who went to see that she wasn't taken,” Lucian said.

“Great. You have a friend. And he can throw people around the woods as if they were pebbles as well?”

“She's safe with him.”