Tracking the Tempest (24 page)

“Interfering? How? My people have committed no crime,” Phaedra purred. “You attacked them for no reason. They were merely investigating the murder of these two
unfortunate
women, just like you…”

I looked to where Graeme and Fugwat lay, covered in blood that wasn't their own. Was she serious? They
had
to have killed those women. They
had
to—

“You
lie
, Alfar,” Ryu roared, and the shields around him ignited in an eerie blue light. My boyfriend did have some mad skills at his disposal.

“Enough,” Phaedra hissed as we heard a gasp behind us. The harpies had raised a wickedly sharp, hooked claw to the throats of both Caleb and Daoud. The harpy holding Daoud, either Kaori or Kaya, had already pierced deep into the djinn's neck.

“We are at an impasse. We have your men; you have ours. You believe one story… I think that the Court will believe another. So I suggest we make an exchange… your men's lives in exchange for a race. Whoever makes it to the Compound first gets to tell their version of events. And then we can let our king and our queen decide.” Phaedra's smile was cold, calculated, and confident. She knew who Jarl would side with and that Orin and Morrigan would follow his lead, at least publicly.

“Never,” Ryu snarled, but his protestations were cut short by a strangled gasp from Daoud as the harpy's claw slashed across the djinn's throat. I'd seen Daoud's uncle, Wally, seamlessly replace his own amputated arm, and Daoud was doing something similar with his own torn flesh. But every time he healed himself, the harpy cut deep again. Blood was everywhere, and Daoud's face grew unhealthily pale as the harpy who held him slashed at his throat again and again—

“You have a choice, Investigator. Eventually your man will bleed out, and not even a djinn can recover from a true death. Do we have a deal?”

Ryu's shoulders were so tense with anger he was already quivering. He glanced at Anyan, who, after a brief moment, nodded.

“Fine,” Ryu barked, his voice brittle with resentment. “Let my men go. And we
will
see you back at Court—”

Before he could finish his sentence, Kaya (or Kaori) slashed once more across Daoud's throat. To our horror, her sister Kaori, or Kaya, did the same to Caleb. The satyr's hands found his throat, holding shut the wound and beginning to heal himself, but the djinn dropped to the ground like a stone.

Anyan turned with a shout to Caleb, letting up on the spriggan as he did so. Fugwat, his brute face awash in anger, made as if to follow him. I threw up another of my springy, physical shields at the barghest's back, feeling my power eaten up by the unfamiliar exercise. But my shield held, and the spriggan bounced back, to be grabbed by the incubus and dragged toward the harpies. Phaedra's gang hightailed it out of there, leaving us to attend to our wounded.

Anyan was already healing Caleb, while Ryu worked on Daoud. We all cooled our heels, waiting. If Camille, Julian, or I ran after the Alfar, we were toast. So we watched as Anyan finished with Caleb, and then both men immediately turned their attention to Daoud. For our part, we funneled power to the satyr so that his exhausted body could still pump healing energy into the ragged wounds in his friend's neck.

After what felt like hours, but could have been only about twenty minutes, Caleb looked up.

“He'll live. But he needs a blood transfusion as soon as possible.”

The satyr stood, swaying a bit before Julian ran up to charge the big man with elemental force until Caleb could draw his own power from the earth.

Anyan gathered Daoud up in his arms, cradling the other man to him as Ryu barked orders.

“Julian, hot-wire Edie's car and get Daoud and Caleb to the nearest healer in the area. Camille, you and Anyan take the SUV. Jane, with me. Phaedra can't have gotten too far…”

I'd never taken part in a chase, but I panted alongside the others as we raced back to our cars, and I belted myself in as quickly as I could when Ryu practically threw me in his car.

Then we were off, peeling away down the dirt road, away from where Edie and Felicia lay, cooling in their own blood. I closed my eyes at that thought, knowing that I would have to deal with the deaths of those two women sometime, but all that grief and remorse would have to come later.

I took a deep breath as Ryu shouted at Anyan over his phone; they were trying to figure out the best way to the Compound from where we were. Anyan thought they should try to catch up with Phaedra; Ryu thought we should try to beat them back to the Compound. And even though one was a vampire and one was a shape-shifter, they were both male. So both had to be right and neither could stop and ask for directions.

It's funny, in the movies, everyone in a chase scene always seems to know where they're going. They never run into dead ends, or trains, or
—

I was just starting to enjoy my musings when, as if on cue, came the attack.

One minute Ryu was arguing and I was pondering the irrealities of action blockbusters; the next everything was awash in fire and the car was spinning like a top. Ryu was swearing, trying to get the BMW back under control when another blast of heat and energy hit us. Everything went upside down, confusingly, until I realized
we
were upside down. The car flipped once, twice, and then landed on Ryu's side on the side of the road.

Everything was bleary, not least because of the blood that was dripping from a cut on my forehead down into my eyes. I shook my head, trying to clear it, while I called out Ryu's name.

He lay unmoving against the smashed glass of the side window. His body was twisted up in his seat belt, his eyes closed. I tried to reach for him, but my own arms were trapped in a tangle that I realized was my deflated air bag.

I finally unwound myself and touched his shoulder, just as his eyes fluttered open. Relief washed through my system but it was short-lived. My lover's eyes had barely focused on me when they widened. He called my name as I heard a loud wrenching sound behind me. Suddenly, there was a hand on my shoulder and a sharp pain in my neck. My mouth went slack as my limbs went numb. I felt myself pulled upward into the waiting arms of our attacker.

Conleth's insane blue gaze met mine as I sank into his gaze. I struggled, my vision starting to blur, until I felt my muscles fall slack against him. He caressed my cheek with one hand while the other held me close. As everything went dark, I heard him murmuring my name over and over, like a prayer, while I was swallowed by darkness.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

T
he fog clouding my brain dispersed slowly, leaving a dull ache in its place. I tried to raise my head but it wasn't responding. I tried again, with more force, and my head lolled backward on my neck like an egg on a string.

I knew two things. The first was that I was completely fucking terrified. I was terrified that Con had killed Ryu, terrified that I was in Con's clutches, and even more terrified that I knew exactly what Con wanted from me. It involved making super-babies, and it did
not
involve clothes. Which, except for my jacket, I was pretty sure I was still wearing, thank the gods, since he could have done anything to me while I was unconscious.

Not that you would know if he raped you, since you still can't feel your legs,
my brain reminded me unhelpfully. I swore at my brain for making me, on top of everything else, suddenly terrified of not feeling my legs.

Besides my multiplicity of terrors, however, I knew one good thing. I was near water. And not just water, but the ocean…
my
ocean. I could feel the Atlantic beckoning. She was seething, enraged at my predicament, demanding I return to her. Either that or there was a storm front passing.

I kept my eyes shut, feigning unconsciousness, and did my best to hear something, anything, that would tell me where Con was or where I was. Meanwhile, my extremities were starting to get a pins-and-needles feeling that really hurt, but also informed me that I seemed to be sitting, and that my hands—but not my feet—were definitely bound.

One for the barghest,
I thought.

I couldn't hear anything, so I cracked my eyelids. No one was standing above me, and my neck was finally in my own control so I raised my head slowly.

“There you are, Jane,” Conleth cooed lovingly from somewhere to my left.

Fuck,
I thought, shuddering at the sound of his voice.

The ifrit halfling was sitting cross-legged on the floor. His fire was totally banked, and he looked like any tall, skinny, middle-class white guy on the street.

I couldn't tell what he was doing for a moment. Then I realized he had his finger jammed in a long-dead electrical outlet. I felt a strange pull from him, as if his power were calling to something, and suddenly I saw electricity surge up his arm.

Conleth's face slackened in pleasure, and I realized he was recharging.

I always wondered how ifrits got their power,
I thought. Despite the circumstances, I was also fascinated by how Conleth called the power he needed to him. But I also needed to figure out where the fuck I was, so I stopped staring at Con and started looking around the room. It was a big empty space that looked like it could have been an office. It was familiar, though, in a weird way, and after a second I realized why.

It's got the same kind of crap he had at his squat,
I realized, looking around. There was a battered old desk that probably belonged to the chair upon which I was currently tied. A stained mattress lay in one corner, and junk-food wrappers were strewn about everywhere.
Con must have been living here since we found his place in Southie…

After a few more minutes at the plug, Conleth stood, wiping down his bedraggled jeans before coming toward me.

“Sorry I had to drug you, Jane, but I knew I didn't have time to explain. So I figured this was easiest.” Conleth sounded genuinely apologetic, and I realized that he thought, given a chance to talk, that I would have agreed to come with him. Which meant that he still thought I was on his side.

I cleared my throat, trying to find my voice. My tongue was dry and wooden.

“Need a drink?” Con asked, and I nodded. He walked away and came back with a bottle of water.

“I know, I know,” he soothed as he uncapped the bottle and raised it to my lips. I greedily drank nearly half the liter. “The drug I used makes you thirsty. It does make you sleep, but I still always hated that one, for the thirst.”

His words hit me like a fist. I hated this creature, but hearing him talk so nonchalantly about the fact that he'd had his entire life
stripped
from him made me shudder with pity. I closed my eyes to blink back tears as Con crouched in front of me again.

He started rubbing my legs gently, but he might as well have been branding me with his hands. As the feeling returned to my limbs, it felt like little knives were dancing over my flesh. I whined, and the tears broke free, rolling down my cheeks.

“I know, it hurts. I'm sorry,” Con said, stricken.

I gritted my teeth against the pain and nodded.

“Not your fault,” I managed to croak.

He smiled beatifically. “No, it's the drugs. But it'll wear off soon.”

Keep him talking, keep him distracted,
I thought, as his massaging hands started to wander up toward my knees.

“How?” I mumbled, fighting my still-dry throat. “How do you know these things?”

“Like what?”

“Drugs. Computers.”

Conleth laughed, but there was no real mirth in his tone. “What else did I have to do, trapped in that lab all my life? When I was younger, they let me play outside, but by the end, I wasn't even allowed to leave my cell. Except to go for testing.”

His voice was grim, and I felt another surge of sympathy, even as my skin crawled as his hands made their way up over my knees toward my thighs.

“You're smart,” I said, trying to distract him.

“Yeah, well, it was either learn stuff like that or go crazy.”

His strategy wasn't entirely effective,
I thought, still forcing myself to meet his mad blue eyes.

“More water?” I asked. I was still really thirsty, but he was also groping my inner thighs.

“Of course,” he said, his voice suddenly deeper.

Not good,
I thought as my still-loopy brain scrambled to think of a way to distract him.

He gave me another long drink and then tossed away the now empty bottle. He stood in front of me, staring down and letting his eyes rove over my body. The sight was more terrifying than if he'd raised a fist.

“Can you untie my arms?” I hazarded. “They hurt.”

“No, sorry. I know it's just because you don't know me yet, but until we're friends, I can't let you go.”

I watched him, noting how his own power flared up and down erratically. Every once in a while, his fire burst free, and I couldn't believe just how much mojo he had at his disposal while having so little control. He crouched down in front of me again, reaching for me—

“What was it like?” I asked, my voice overly loud. Con paused, his eyes snapping back to my face.

“What was what like?”

“Growing up the way you did.”

Conleth sat back on his heels and gave me a hard look. He obviously didn't like my line of questioning, but I persevered.

“You don't have to talk about it if you don't want. But I want to know. If we're going to be friends, we should be able to talk…”

He shook his head and sat backward onto his bottom, crossing his long legs, indian-style. He looked so young sitting like that, and so vulnerable. I wondered what it was inside of him that switched on, or off, when he killed.

“Okay, okay. You're right.”

I waited for him to begin, glad for the respite from his touch but dreading what I was about to hear.

“It wasn't that bad, really. For a long time.”

I cocked my head, giving the ifrit halfling my best “listening” face.

“I mean, I didn't know any better. I wasn't born in the lab, but I might as well have been. I got there when I was really young.” He stopped talking to stare at his feet, lost in thought.

“How'd you get there? Into the lab?” I prompted, even though I knew the basic facts already.

Con shivered and started wringing his hands nervously. “It's pretty fucked up,” he said.

“It's okay, Con,” I said. “What happened?”

“I was just a baby. Probably only a few months old. My mother was human. Bitch abandoned me at a convent. I know that a nun called the police around midnight, reporting that a baby had been left on the doorstep. She said she was only awake because she'd had a bad dream. Cops said they were busy and couldn't get there right away. The nun said she was enjoying taking care of me. Then there was crying in the background, and all of a sudden the nun was screaming. I must have gotten upset and burned the place down. Everyone in the convent died.”

“My god,” I breathed.

“I was born a killer, I guess,” he said. Shame laced his voice, along with a strange, fierce pride. Conleth was a whole hot mess of crazy.

“How do you remember what happened? What the nuns said?”

Con shook his head. “No, someone played me the nine-one-one recording. Someone… who came later.”

“Later?”

“Yeah, when the lab… changed.”

“Oh,” I said. Then we sat in silence. He was probably thinking about what had been done to him under the new regime, but I was wondering how much he knew about the power structure behind his lab. And how to get him to tell me what I wanted to know.

“It was okay before that,” he said eventually.

“The lab?”

“Yeah. Like I said, I didn't know any better. And they treated me pretty well. I mean, some of the tests hurt or were scary, but the nurses were nice and the doctors, especially Dr. Silver, seemed to care.”

“They probably did care, Con. They'd raised you.”

He snorted. Unlike my snorts, his was made up of fire. “Whatever. I thought they cared because I didn't know any better. But none of them did. I was just a job for them, an experiment. They kept me happy because it made the testing easier. And because, although I didn't know it at the time, I could blow them all to hell.”

I nodded. He'd certainly illustrated his “blowing to hell” abilities.

“So what happened when the lab changed?”

He fell silent for a while, gathering himself. I waited, entertaining myself by crinkling my forehead to watch the dried blood flake onto my jeans.

“It was slow. Happened over time,” he answered finally. “The nurses began to change. Then the doctors. Finally it was all different. Even Silver was fired. That's when I realized how lucky I'd been.”

“What did they do?” I prompted gently.

He looked up to meet my eyes, and his were haunted. If he'd looked vulnerable before, now he looked… devastated.

“What didn't they do? Some of it was sort of like what they'd always done but some of it… I think it was just to hurt me. There was one doctor… he was the first to come to the lab that wasn't… human. Not the last, but the first. He's how I learned I wasn't alone. He called himself ‘the healer,' and that was it. I don't know what he was, and the humans all thought he looked normal. But he was using his magic, because he was anything
but
normal. He looked like he was part… lizard.”

Goblin?
I thought, even as I asked Conleth for more details.

“Like I said, he looked half lizard. His nose was sort of flat and snakelike, and he was mostly sort of scaly. But his face had human flesh and his eyes were human. And his hands looked human… but for his claws…” Con's voice trailed off, and he wiped his palms on his jeans, as if trying to wipe away a bad memory. He had totally retreated inward at this point, and he was talking as much to himself as to me. In the meantime, I was still trying to figure out what this healer could have been. What had I met that looked half lizard?

Maybe a nahual trying to scare him?
And then my brain hit on the obvious.
Or a goblin halfling
…

“He was even worse than the woman and her pet psycho.”

“Well,” I said soothingly, for Con was getting agitated. And his agitation took the form of tiny fireballs that flew out of him, landing willy-nilly around the room. I swiftly pulled a bit of water out of the air to dampen one that had landed on my jeans. I figured he was talking about people he'd killed while he was escaping, so I said, “You took care of them, right, when you escaped?”

Con looked at me darkly. “No. The woman wasn't there that day and neither was the healer. He was there a lot to begin with, but I think he got promoted.” Con's voice grew even colder to match his eyes. “He was good at his job, after all. Really into pain. He did things…” Conleth fell silent again, and I knew this silence wasn't to be broken.

“He did bad things,” I said, trying to let him off the hook and let him know he didn't have to continue if he didn't want to.

But that's not how Con took it. He looked up sharply, his power flaring in a white-hot burst of flame.

“What the fuck do you know about it, Jane?”

I blinked, confused by his sudden anger. My kidnapper and I had been getting along so well up till then.

“Your life has been a fucking cake walk. What do you know about pain? About humiliation?” Conleth stood up, advancing on me.

“Con, I didn't mean—”

“No, fuck you, Jane. You had a boyfriend die. Your loving mother left you with your loving father. So you did some time in a
real
hospital, watched over by your family and friends. What the fuck do you know about suffering?” Conleth's voice was steadily rising, as was the heat pulsing off of him.