The Dark Gate (16 page)

David. The one bright spot in his nightmare of a life.

The boy had woken a short while after Jack returned to the house, his color a rich, healthy brown, the gray cast gone as if it had never been.

Jack turned to where the boy sat up in bed, pillows stacked behind him. He still looked tired, the circles beneath his eyes pronounced, but no more so than any kid who'd been through a tough illness and was well on the road to recovery.

Tonight, he'd take him home. Both the kids. Mei had to be frantic by now, but he had no way to contact her that couldn't be traced. After dark, he'd take them back. He and Larsen.

His gut clenched anew at her betrayal. He wanted to hate her for it, but he'd seen the horror in her eyes. Heard the devastation in her voice. He didn't know what she'd done to him, but his heart, mind and gut all told him one thing. She hadn't meant to hurt him. But it didn't mean he had to forgive her. He wasn't sure he could, not the way he felt now.

He heard a sound in the hall and turned to find Sabrina standing in the doorway, watching him. She started to turn away when he met her gaze, but not before he'd glimpsed the look on her face. The lovesick look of a teenage girl.

Damn.
Larsen was right.

The girl strolled into the room and sat on the end of the bed, ignoring him.

“Sabrina, move,” David complained. “You're in the way.”

“Too bad.” She glanced at Jack, then away. “Where's
Larsen?
” Her tone was laced with jealousy. What happened to the little girl he'd known and loved for so long?

“Asleep,” he told her. He'd heard Larsen come in soon after he'd left her at the creek.

“Are you going to marry her?”

Jack opened his mouth, then closed it slowly. He didn't know what to tell her. Yesterday he might have said yes, if Larsen would have him. But today? Now? His heart still shouted yes but his mind…

Sabrina's eyes widened. “You are! You hardly even know her.”

Jack grimaced. He wasn't sure his head could take any more, but clearly he was going to have to do
something.
He started for the hall and motioned Sabrina to follow.

She hesitated, then jumped off the bed and stalked after him. The look she gave him broke his heart. Her chin jutted stubbornly, defiantly, but her eyes ached with feeling and vulnerability.

“Sabrina, honey, I'm old enough to be your father.”

The girl gasped.

“You may think you have feelings for me, but…”

“I don't! I don't have feelings for you.” Her eyes welled with tears. “I hate you! I hate you!”

“Sabrina…”

She ran into the bathroom and slammed the door, probably waking both Larsen and Myrtle. What just happened? He'd hardly said anything.

Her sobs carried to him, tearing his heart to shreds. He was a monster. And he didn't even know what he'd done.

God, his life was screwed.

He went back into the guest room where David watched cartoons and sank down on the chair by the window. His head pounded. Tipping it against the upholstered back, he wondered what else could go wrong.

 

Larsen woke to the sound of David's childish laughter and rolled over to grab her phone. She squinted, bleary-eyed at the tiny time readout. Almost nine. Three whole hours of sleep. After the debacle with Jack at the creek, she was surprised she'd managed to fall asleep at all.

The memory of what happened rushed over her like an acid wind, searing her skin all over again. She hadn't seen Jack when she'd come in. How was she going to face him now?

She could avoid the inevitable confrontation a little while longer. Better to sleep and escape, if she couldn't forget.

But then she noticed someone had left a message on her phone. Her brows knit in confusion. This was a new phone. A new number. She hadn't given it to…no wait. She had. She'd given the number to Autumn, her friend at the Smithsonian, when she'd sent her the e-mail. Suddenly wide awake, she sat up and returned her old friend's call.

“Autumn, it's Larsen. You got my message.”

“Hey, girlie. Where in the heck have you
been?
I haven't seen or heard from you in
ages.
” There was a note of mild rebuke in her friend's tone and Larsen was sorry for putting it there. Autumn had been a great roommate in college and would have been a close friend if Larsen had let her. She was one of the few people Larsen regretted keeping at arm's length. “So how's the lawyering?”

“Great,” Larsen replied. “We'll have to have coffee and catch up.”
If I survive long enough.
“Were you able to dig up anything on the Stone of Ezrie?”

“Yes. Quite a bit, in fact. There's an interesting legend attached to it that says it's the key to the elven world.
Elves,
Larsen. Isn't that a hoot?”

Larsen made a noncommittal sound, every muscle in her body tensing.

Autumn continued. “More specifically, it's the elven key to
our
world. We have it. If they get it back, we're supposedly doomed. I dug a bit further into the legend and found a writing by a monk in the twelfth century. He believed there used to be a dozen gates between the two worlds. Each opened only once a month for about an hour. He says that in the sixth century the gates were sealed, but there was reason to fear one was never found and never sealed. The monk warns mankind to be ever vigilant, lest the elves find that unsealed gate and return for their key.”

Larsen pressed her hand to her forehead as the thoughts in her head swirled, trying to get out. It was true. It was all true. Elves and elf gates and other worlds. Chills raced over her skin.

“Larsen, what's all this about? Are you representing the thief or something?”

Larsen choked on a laugh. “No. It's complicated, Autumn.
Unbelievably
complicated.” She wished Jack had been on the line to hear all this. “So, the gates open once a month. Does it say when?”

“At midnight of the full moon.”

“The full…” Her heart gave a lurch and she stood, suddenly rigid. “The moon's full now.”

“Almost. I can check.” She heard the clacking of Autumn's keyboard. “Tonight, Larsen. Tonight is the full moon.”

“Damn. Thanks, Autumn, but I've got to go.” She ran for the door, thankful she'd never bothered to undress, and went to find Jack. She found him snoring softly in David's room, slouched low in the chair by the window, looking tired, his mouth tight.

“Jack, we've got a problem,” she said none too quietly as she crossed the room. He came awake with a start, then grabbed his head and grimaced, his eyes lanced with pain. Guilt punched her in the stomach. Her fault. She'd done this to him.

“What's the matter, Larsen?”

She told him what Autumn said, praying he'd believe her, that he wouldn't hold what happened at the creek against her in this. But as she spoke, she could see the doubt in his eyes.

“Jack, you read people better than anyone I know. Am I lying to you now?”

A muscle leaped in his jaw. “No.” He looked away, his expression growing more grave, more grim by the second. Finally he turned back to her and met her gaze with hard cop eyes. “We've got to get back. If she's right, we're out of time.”

Larsen nodded. “I agree.”

He stood and grabbed his phone. “I'll call Harrison. Maybe he's had some luck reaching that spook brother of his. We're going to need all the help we can get.” He grimaced. “Would you tell Sabrina we need to leave? Last I heard she was slamming the bathroom door.”

Larsen crossed the hall and knocked. “Sabrina?”

“Go away!”

“Sabrina, we're leaving. We're going to take you home.”

“I'm not going with you,” the teen shouted.

Larsen sighed. “Sabrina, you can't stay here.”

“I'm waiting for my dad. He's coming to get me.”

Larsen's jaw dropped, her blood turning to ice. She heard Jack behind her and turned to meet his shocked gaze.

He brushed past her to pound on the door himself. “When did you call your dad, Sabrina? I need to know.”

But the question became irrelevant as the sound of sirens carried on the wind.

“W
e've got to get out of here.”

The blood pounded through Jack's head, driven by the jackhammer Larsen had somehow unleashed on him and the realization that Sabrina had unwittingly turned traitor.

He met Larsen's wide eyes as he slammed his fist against the bathroom door. “Sabrina, open up!”

“They could be fire trucks,” Larsen said, but he heard the thread of fear in her voice.

“Are you willing to risk it?”

“No.”

The sirens were getting closer every minute and by the sound he'd guess there were at least three cars. The idiots! Sirens were hardly the way to surprise the enemy. Then again, Jack wasn't the enemy. Maybe somewhere beneath the Esri's enchantment, his men still knew that.

“We'll never get down that driveway in time. We're going to have to escape on foot. Get Myrtle and get going,” he told Larsen. “She'll need the extra time. I'll bring the kids.”

Jack pounded on the door, every beat of his fist vibrating in his head until he thought it would explode. “Open up!”

“No! Go away.”

Fury and fear blew away his patience and he kicked in the door. Sabrina huddled on the floor fully clothed and stared at him, her mouth agape.

“Come on. We're leaving.”

“No.” She scooted away from him, until her back was pressed against the tub. A hint of fear glinted in her eyes that tore at his soul. “I'm waiting for my dad.”

“Your dad is not himself, Sabrina. His mind is being controlled by an evil…person. He'll kill you and not even know he's done it until it's too late.”

“I don't believe you,” she whispered, her eyes truly frightened now.

“Then you'll die.”

She didn't move. The sirens were getting louder.

“Sabrina…” Tension vibrated through him. Every second they delayed could cost them their lives. “Have I ever given you a reason not to trust me?”

“No.”

“Then come with me. Please. Just in case things aren't what you think.”

The stubborn look returned, but she rose and stomped toward the door. “Fine.”

Thank God.

He swooped David off the bed and followed Sabrina down the stairs and out the back door. A light rain fell as they started down the hill. Just what they didn't need, though maybe it would discourage their attackers. Assuming enchantment could be discouraged.

Ahead of them, Larsen was helping Myrtle down the steep, slippery hill. They'd gotten a head start, but not nearly enough. Myrtle was spry for her age, but much too slow to outrun a cop.

How was he going to keep them alive if Henry and the others came after them? They needed to find a place to hide.

Sabrina ran ahead and caught up to the two women. Jack, with David in his arms, reached them a minute later. “Aunt Myrtle, do you have any neighbors who would hide you and the kids?”

Myrtle's face was red with exertion, her gray hair drooping around her face, her eyes wide and frightened.

“Oh, Jack. No. I pretty much keep to myself up here. Besides, I'd have to know someone very well indeed to ask them to hide me from the police.”

The sirens ended abruptly as the little band reached the creek.

“Hurry!” he urged. “We've got to get into the trees.”

They quickly crossed the creek together. As they reached the woods on the other side, the sound of gunfire exploded from the direction of Myrtle's house.

Myrtle gasped. Sabrina turned to him with wide, frightened eyes as they made their way through the trees.

“They don't know what they're doing, sprite. That's why they're so dangerous. They'd never in a million years hurt us if they had a choice.”

“They sure do waste a lot of ammunition this way,” Larsen muttered.

“They're like zombies,” Jack said. “They're given an address and they destroy it.”

“Will they keep searching when they realize we're not in there?” Myrtle asked.

“I don't know. They didn't when they came after us a couple of nights ago.” They'd emptied their guns into the water where Larsen disappeared, never once looking for her elsewhere. “But he seems to be getting stronger. There's no telling what he's capable of.”

Behind them a shout rang out. “Find them!”

“Hell. They're searching. Let's go.”

They pushed their way through the woods until the trees thinned, a housing development sprouting up on either side.

“Sabrina,” Larsen said. “Help Myrtle. I need to get something.”

“What do you see?” Jack asked, coming up behind her.

“We need the holly.”

“Jack,” Myrtle gasped. “You…go on. I can't…keep up.”

“I'm not leaving you, Aunt Myrtle.” He spotted a good-size wooden shed three houses down, set far back from the house at the edge of the tree line. Assuming he could get into the thing, maybe it would work. They were out of options.

The house itself had a closed, “on vacation” look to it. The shades were drawn, the back porch light still on midmorning. Jack set David on the ground, told them all to wait, then slipped around to see if he could get into the shed. To his relief, the door was open. He saw why when he opened it.

The shed was filled with junk—rotting lumber, a couple of rusted bikes, half a dozen rakes and shovels, along with a lawn mower, a fertilizer spreader and a wheelbarrow. Not a lot of room for five people, but it would have to do.

He motioned to Larsen and went to grab David, but the boy waved him off. “I can walk, Uncle Jack. I'm not sick anymore.”

With a nod, he ruffled the boy's tight curls, then helped Myrtle maneuver over the tree roots without tripping, and ushered them all inside. The smell of rotting grass and fertilizer nearly overpowered his sinuses.

He pulled the door closed, blanketing them in darkness.

“It stinks in here,” Sabrina whispered.

“Hold your nose,” David said.

“Shh, you two. Larsen, open the door, just a crack. I need some light.”

She did as he asked. He lifted the wheelbarrow and set it on its side, then did the same with the spreader, leaving a small space in between.

“Kids,” he whispered. “Lay down between these.”

“It's gross,” Sabrina whispered.

“Get down, Sabrina,” he said sharply. He loved the kid, but she was trying his patience. “If bullets start flying, you'll have some protection.”

“Bullets?”

Okay, maybe honesty wasn't the best policy when it came to kids, but he damned well didn't have time to filter his words.

“
Get down,
both of you. Myrtle, come here.” He helped his aunt into the corner on the other side of the wheelbarrow.

“What about the lawn mower,” Larsen asked in a whisper. She stood silhouetted in the doorway, a couple of sprigs of holly sticking out of her back pants' pockets like prickly tail feathers. “Could we tip it, too?”

“It's probably still loaded with gas.”

Her eyes widened and their gazes met. In those golden-brown eyes he saw perfect understanding. It would blow sky-high if a bullet struck it. Then again, if the bullets started flying, there wasn't a lot of chance of survival for any of them.

Regret softened her eyes before she broke the contact. Regret for what might have been? Or for what she'd done to him? He couldn't know. None of it mattered now. All that mattered was staying alive.

He stepped over a pile of rotting lumber to join Larsen by the door. “Close it, Larsen, and move to the side, away from the door.”

The only sounds now were the occasional sniffle—he suspected Sabrina was crying—and the sound of a dog barking in the distance. All normal neighborhood sounds had been silenced by the crack of gunfire.

Seconds ticked by like hours, the minutes an eternity. He stood facing the door in clothes damp from rain and sweat, his gun hanging at his side, ready to kill the men he'd sworn to give his life for.

If they survived this, if
he
survived, he'd kill that son-of-a-bitch Esri.

A twig cracked heavily near by. A single crack. Someone approached.

Fear tasted like cardboard on his tongue.
Go by. Ignore the shed.
If that door opened, he was going to have to shoot. How could he do it? How could he shoot one of his own men?

No choice. He had to protect the lives inside the shed. And he had to survive long enough to stop the Esri.

The steps moved closer, toward the door. Heavy, slow, careful steps. Cop's steps.

Jack's breaths echoed in his ears. His heart thudded in his chest until he was sure the sound would give them away. Never in his worst nightmare could he have imagined being put in this position. Fury ate through his heart like acid. The albino was going to die for this. If Jack survived the next few minutes, the albino was going to die.

The steps drew closer. Jack raised his gun.

The door vibrated as someone gripped the handle, then flew open in a wash of hazy daylight. In the doorway, a cop looked down the barrel of his revolver.

“Hank.”

 

Jack was going to die.

Fear slammed into Larsen's chest, pounding through her veins like a jackhammer on a city sidewalk. The cop had his gun pointed right at Jack's chest and Jack wasn't moving. He couldn't pull the trigger on his friend. With desperation, she reached for the closest thing that could act as a weapon, her hand closing around a long-handled shovel.

Her muscles bunched and strained as she swung the shovel upward with all her might connecting, with a thud, with the big cop's gun arm. A shot fired at the ceiling, sending a spray of wood chips and dust raining down on them. Jack dove for the man's legs, tackling him, sending him crashing onto the piles of rotting lumber.

Larsen reached for one of the prickly holly sprigs she'd stuck in her back pocket and shoved it up the cop's pant leg before he could roll away. The man stilled instantly. Larsen dragged breaths into her lungs as if she'd run a five-mile race, her heart thudding in her ears.

Jack pressed the barrel of his gun into Henry's neck. “Freeze!” The two men were awash in the misty daylight flowing in from the open shed door. Beads of sweat ran down Jack's temples.

Henry tried to move, but Jack pushed the gun harder into his neck. “Don't move! Drop your gun, Hank.”

“What's the matter with you, Jack?”

“Drop it.”

“Sure, sure. No problem.” He dropped the gun onto the ground beside his head.

Jack grabbed the weapon, flicked something on it, then tossed it behind him, Henry staring at him as if he'd lost his mind. “Get it, Larsen.”

She picked up the heavy gun, the first she'd ever touched in her life.

“
Now
will you get the hell off me?” the bigger man said.

Larsen backed up, cradling the gun, half afraid it would go off if she so much as moved it.

“What are you doing here, buddy?” Jack asked softly.

“I'm…” Henry stopped. Confusion, then a flash of fear entered his eyes. “I'm…supposed to…heaven help me. I'm supposed to kill you.”

“Do you know why?”

The big man's eyes narrowed with thought and no small amount of horror. “No. Just that…
Baleris.
He's the one calling the shots now.”

“And what are you going to do about it?”

The cop scowled. “You're my partner, man.”

Jack nodded. “That's more like it.” He pushed to his feet and held out his hand to the other man and helped him up.

“What's going on?” Henry asked, his face still a mask of confusion and disgust. His gaze swung to her and narrowed as if he couldn't quite place her. The dark hair was doing the trick.

“Daddy?” Sabrina sat up from behind the wheelbarrow.

Henry jerked toward the sound. “Sabrina?”

David popped up beside her. “Hi, Dad!”

“Davy? But…what are you…? I thought…”

As the kids started to rise, Jack stepped between them and aimed the gun at their father. “Get down, both of you!”

“But—” Sabrina began.

“Now! Hank, I'm sorry, but Baleris has your mind and I can't take a chance on you hurting your kids.”

Henry nodded, his eyes wide. “Do as Jack says.”

“But, Dad…”

“Sabrina,” Henry barked. “Down. Now.”

“Yes, sir.” The girl knelt, her expression sullen even as tears sprang to her eyes. Larsen felt a stab of sympathy for the girl. Sabrina was having a rotten day. She needed reassurance that her dad wasn't going to hurt her. But they couldn't give her that.