He picked up his IPod, plugged in, and waved to the workers on the way out. Some quick stretches in the entryway, and he was out the door. He looked for the ugly green Ford that had been stationed outside his place for what seemed like forever, but even the police surveillance had vanished. That, he wouldn't miss.
An easy warm-up jog took him to the nearest crosswalk, and he stretched some more while waiting for the light. Once on the Memorial walkway, he let the music and rhythm of his feet take his unease away. His mind drifted through the details of work, Lonnie's upcoming dissertation, his search for a new student to take on the bone bed project. He would have to hire a technician for some of it; there had been too big a hole left behind with the loss of both Bob and Aleksi.
Loss. Hutch thought about the concepts of loss, death, and aloneness, about Aleksi stretched out on an autopsy table, her beautiful golden skin flayed open for analysis.
He picked up his pace, passed the boat houses and kept going under the Elliot Bridge. Past the American Legion hall, the trail went to gravel and the number of people thinned. Winter-dead trees crowded in, limbs rattling in the wind. The cold, ice-strewn waters of the Charles seemed to swallow up the heat of the day, and his breath came in clouds of fog. When the trail met back up with the street, he decided to cross again. He wasn't in the mood for a wide paved trail, the backstreets of Cambridge would give him something to look at, something to feel.
He found himself staring at Cambridge Cemetery beyond the empty parking lot through the spindly shrubs. The expanse of simple and elaborate headstones stretched on for what seemed like forever. So many bones, he thought, remembering Aleksi's love of them.
On impulse, he crossed the tangle of dead vegetation and began running along the twisting paths and circuitous roads, winding his way through the graves. Aleksi was still officially only missing. Her parents had called the university, but there was nothing to tell. He wondered if they would eventually erect a headstone for her. Maybe he should, just for closure. It would give him someplace to think of her, someplace to talk to her. If he had that, maybe she wouldn't invade his every waking moment and plague his dreams.
With a start, Hutch realized that it was too dark to read the smaller inscriptions on the headstones. He turned for home and found one of the main roads leading toward the parking lot.
"Running alone at night through a cemetery, Doctor?" A figure stepped out from behind a tall monument. "That can't be healthy."
"Derrick." The sight of him, the angular features, filthy coat draped over hunched shoulders, bare feet sporting longer claws than he remembered Aleksi ever having, brought more than a surge of fear; it brought a flicker of hope. If Derrick is still alive, maybe… "You've been quiet lately."
"Have I?"
"The police haven't found any more of your handy work."
"The police couldn't find their asses with both hands." He glanced around and took a few steps into the shadow of another tall headstone. "Where's Aleksi?"
"I don't know." Running would be worse than useless. "She said she was leaving, that she didn't want to put me in danger. She knew you were looking for her."
"I don't believe you." Derrick's yellow eyes flicked around the shadows. "She wouldn't leave you unprotected. She knows I'd come for you."
"She thought you were only watching me to find her. She left to find you." He didn't know how much truth to tell, but anything to keep Derrick talking, to keep those claws from his throat, seemed like a good idea. "She said she needed to find you, that she understood you."
"Bullshit!" Lips curled back from teeth like knives. He moved closer, but still in shadow. "Nobody understands me, least of all her!"
"Why least, Derrick?" Hutch started backing up slowly. "She's more like you than anyone else in the world."
"That's the first true thing that's come out of your mouth." He stepped closer, his clawed hands emerging from the drape of his coat. "Maybe this will bring her out."
"Killing me won't solve your problems, Derrick."
"Who said I was trying to solve anything?" He advanced, and Hutch backed up, fighting the urge to run.
"They're working on a cure, Derrick. Johansen said they would try to—"
"Who said I wanted one?" He moved closer, stalking like a cat playing with a mouse.
"You don't need to do this, Derrick!"
"Oh, I do." He strode forward, and Hutch stumbled back, thinking only to put something, anything between him and those claws. "I really do."
Light swept across them, tires squealing. Derrick whirled, squinting into the glare of the high-beam headlights. The car engine screamed, the vehicle barreling up the narrow drive, straight at them. Hutch dove out of the way, more out of reflex than any conscious thought, and when he looked back, Derrick was gone. The car squalled to a stop only feet away, the passenger door flying open to reveal a wide-eyed Sergeant Jasper.
"Get in!"
There was no argument. Hutch scrambled into the car, and before he could even slam the door, they were burning rubber in reverse.
"Tell me that was Derrick Penningly!" Jasper flung an arm over the seat, eyes fixed out the back window as the engine whined to a dangerous pitch.
Hutch opened his mouth to answer, but something struck the top of the car. He barely had time to glance up before three long claws cut parallel furrows in the roof, the fabric of the headliner ripping in a wide swath.
"Shit! Hang on!"
Hutch was already hanging on, but his grip failed when Jasper flung the wheel over and the car slewed around. Tires howled in protest as Jasper slammed into forward and hammered the gas pedal to the floor. That the reckless maneuver had not shaken off their assailant became evident when claws pierced the roof again. Tearing sheet metal screeched. Hutch crouched low, eyes glued to the car's roof being pealed back like wrapping paper on Christmas morning.
Jasper swore and fired his pistol into the roof.
The muzzle blast hammered Hutch's ears in the confined space. How many rounds Jasper fired, he was unsure. While his ears were still ringing, the cop slammed on the brakes. Hutch took the impact of the dashboard on his forearm and caught a glimpse of something tumbling over the hood.
Hutch blinked, and the shape before the car coalesced into Penningly, the ragged coat gone, clawed hands spread wide, yellow eyes glowing. The thin membranes between his arms and torso were riddled with holes, and one bullet had left a crease along his chest. His lips parted in a feral grin, and even as Jasper flung his door open and leveled his gun to fire, Derrick leapt.
Something dark flashed past, too fast to follow, and Derrick Penningly was gone. Movement and sound through the ringing in his ears drew his attention to the right, and there, tumbling among the grave markers, two dragons fought in a tangle of wings, claws, and flashing teeth.
"Aleksi!"
Aleksi hated the thought of having to thank that asshole, Jasper, for saving Hutch's life, but she had to admit, if not for him, she wouldn't have arrived in time. That was the problem with watching from hiding; she had to stay far enough away to keep hidden, but when the shit hit the fan, she was too far away to reach him quickly.
Thanks to Jasper, however, she finally had him.
Her lunge sent them both flying into a row of low headstones. A three-inch-thick slab of pitted granite arrested their trajectory and very nearly broke several of her ribs. Claws raked her shoulder as she rolled into a crouch, ready to spring if he dodged or fled. He stood his ground, eyes wide, his grin a mouthful of razors.
"I knew you'd come." His tone dripped vengeance, satisfaction, and bloodlust. "You can't resist me, Aleksi. We're the same."
"We're not!"
He lunged, but she swept his raking claws aside, scoring a shallow scratch on his forearm. She darted in low, but he flipped up and over her head effortlessly. She heard shouting from Hutch and Jasper but dared not look away.
"You're weak and slow, Aleksi." He circled, feinting and dodging. "What have you been eating, rats and s
tray dogs?" He lunged again, and she met the attack, her claws interlaced with his. Pain lanced through the backs of her hands. For an instant, they stood face to face. "You're starving yourself for no reason. The city's full of meat for the taking!"
"I don't eat people, Derrick!" She twisted, claws ripping free as she sent him sprawling into a headstone. The stone snapped under the impact. "And I'm fast enough to kill you."
"You sure you want to kill me?" He flipped to his feet, quick as a striking snake, and came at her, apparently unfazed. "You'll be all alone, if you do."
"I like being alone," she lied, ducking under a slash of his claws that seemed almost playful.
She barreled into him, intending to pin him to the ground, but he tucked and they rolled smack into another headstone. She grasped his wrists to keep his claws from her throat and arched, but his legs tangled with hers to keep her from bucking him off. He leered down at her, saliva dripping down onto her face, teeth an inch from her nose, but she pushed him back up.
Green laser light flickered between them.
They both saw it, and Derrick flung himself back. A headstone splintered into a spray of shrapnel as a bullet passed between their faces. He lurched up trying to escape, but their tangled legs tripped him. He sprawled flat and rolled.
A huge plume of earth flew up from another rifle shot. Whoever was firing was hampered by distance, the time between the squeeze of the trigger and the bullet reaching its target was probably a full second; a lot of time for a dragon. Aleksi would have to hold him still long enough to let the sniper do his work or kill him herself.
Derrick dashed for the cover of a large monument, but the sniper knew how to lead his target. Polished granite spalled across his shoulder and back, gouging scaled golden flesh into lacerated meat. She dove into the wedge of darkness behind a stone, unsure if the sniper might have orders to kill them both. So far, he had only targeted Derrick; Johansen might not have lied after all.
Aleksi heard more yelling; Jasper and Hutch arguing, but she couldn't divert her attention from Derrick for an instant. If she looked away, she might lose him in the chaotic shadows of the cemetery. He crouched behind a monument, biding his time for a few seconds. A few seconds was all she needed.
While his attention was on the sniper's pending shot, she examined his posture, and knew which way he would run. Alexi circled, scrabbling low behind a row of stones, claws finding easy purchase in the loam. She heard the impact of a bullet meeting granite and lunged from hiding.
Right into Derrick's path.
They met like two express trains on the same track, but she was ready for the clash and he was not. Despite his greater weight, her momentum bore him over backward. Her claws lanced deeply into his upper arms, piercing bone. They landed in a tangle of leathery wings and scaly flesh, but the moment they stopped rolling, her advantage of surprise was lost.
He kicked hard and flipped her off, trying to twist free of her grasp, but her claws were set deep, and though lighter, she was by no means weak. She rolled, fighting to keep him still, hold him steady just long enough. A shot shattered a century-old headstone a foot from Derrick's head, sending him into a frenzy.
"Let go, you crazy bitch!" He tore one arm free, a huge flap of muscle spraying her with blood. "They're trying to kill us!"
She flung her legs up and clamped them around his hips, lancing her free claws into his chest. "Not us! Only you!"
He surged up on powerful legs, but she refused to let go and they tumbled behind a huge marble monument. Laser light flicked through the night but couldn't reach them.
"Now!" He leered at her, ignoring her talons in his ribs, blood flecking his lips. "Now, you're mine!"
He drew her close. Eyes of topaz bore into hers, jaws gaping. She tried to thrust him to arms-length, refusing to let go, her legs like a vice around him. He pressed down hard, pulling her into his teeth, bucking between her legs in a sick parody of copulation. She flexed her claws, ribs splintering in her grasp, but still he pulled her closer.
Derrick Penningly's head exploded in a shower of flesh and bone, the impact ripping him out of her grasp. Her right ear rang with the deafening gunshot. Derrick's corpse twitched convulsively, a death rattle. She flung him away and rolled to her feet.
The crack-crack of a shotgun action brought her eyes up into those of Sergeant Jasper. He had the weapon aimed right at her chest, the smoking muzzle her death sentence.
"NO!" Hutch crashed into him, one hand grasping the gun's barrel.
The blast tore through the darkness, but missed by a wide margin.
"Goddamnit, let go!" Jasper smacked the stock of the shotgun into Hutch's chest and wrenched the weapon free. "I wasn't going to shoot her, for Christ sake!"
"What?" Hutch clutched his bruised ribs and stepped between them again. "But you…"
"She saved our lives." Jasper jacked another round into the shotgun but didn't point it at her. "I wasn't going to shoot her, but…she's…" He blinked at her. "You are Aleksi Rychenkna, right?"
"I was." She heard distant sirens, and closer the rev of engines.
"Well, then I'm sorry." Jasper stood up straighter and let the weapon dangle from his hand. "And thank you."
Tires squealed on pavement, four black SUVs roaring up the road toward them.
"Thank me by telling them you never saw me." She turned to Hutch. "Goodbye, Hutch."
Aleksi Rychenkna turned and vanished into the night, ignoring the protests of the only man she had ever truly loved.
Aleksi! Wait!" Hutchinson took a step and stumbled.
Jasper grabbed his arm and watched her go. He hadn't been sure she wasn't going to rip his throat out after he shot Penningly and wasn't about to take the chance. He looked at the onrushing fleet of SUV's and knew they'd take Penningly away, rob him of his victory. There were too many questions that would never be answered. Tires squalled to a stop and federal agents piled out, weapons drawn.
"Good to see you alive, Dr. Hutchinson." Dr. Johansen approached flanked by a dozen more men and women in dark coats and rubber gloves.
"Good to be alive, but your man across the river was a little slow."
"I'll let him know." Her attention turned to Jasper, and her eyes flicked down to the gun in his hand. "We're taking Derrick Penningly, Sergeant."
"Can't stop you," he admitted, "but it leaves me holding nothing."
"No, you can't stop us, but don't worry, your boss will receive an explanation that will cover everything." She nodded to the men who were already slipping Penningly's remains into a black plastic bag. Others were cleaning up every trace of evidence. A team was even attacking his car, removing a large section of the roof with a pair of noisy electric shears. "Until you receive orders from your commander, you're not to speak to anyone about this incident. Is that understood?"
"I don't take orders from you." Half a dozen pairs of eyes suddenly flicked his way. "But if I want to keep my job, I'm pretty much forced play along."
"That is exactly correct, Sergeant." She glanced over her shoulder at the approaching squad cars. "I trust you can provide a ride home for Dr. Hutchinson."
"No problem."
"Goodbye, Dr. Hutchinson. I hope we never meet again. Don't do anything that will make our reacquaintance inevitable."
"I won't if you don't, Dr. Johansen." Jasper admired the steely eyed stare Hutchinson leveled at the woman; the man had nerve. "Leave Aleksi alone."
She smiled, but there was no mirth there.
As the fleet of police cruisers pulled up, blue lights flickering through the night like winter lightning, Johansen turned away and boarded one of the SUV's. The cops started to block their exit, but Jasper called them off. There was no point in a confrontation now; it would only come back to bite him later. He'd have enough trouble explaining this whole thing.
"I'd love for you to tell me about this someday, Dr. Hutchinson."
"You really don't want to know, Sergeant Jasper." Hutchinson took a deep breath, closed h
is eyes for a moment and let it out slowly. He opened his eyes and looked around the shadows. Jasper knew who he was looking for, but he could see that the man held no real hope of seeing her again.
"You're wrong, Doctor." He clapped the man on the back and gestured toward a waiting squad car. "I really, really would." He met Hutchinson's incredulous stare with a laugh. "Unofficially, of course."
Persephone watched the flames consume the remains of Derrick Penningly.
Reggie closed the door of the incinerator and put a hand on her shoulder. "Glad that's over?"
"Eager to get my own face back." The fatigue was coming down hard now, the stimulants wearing off. "Can you drive, Reg? I'm a wreck."
"No problem, cuz." He grinned and helped her into the big SUV they'd used to transport the remains from the federal storage facility.
The vehicle still rode low with the weight of the specimen and all the samples. Mary Buckmann would have a lot of questions thrown at her, and absolutely no memory of the last ten days to answer them. The Director would be furious. Persephone regretted using the woman, but there had been no other option.
They drove out of the industrial area south of town and got on the expressway. She leaned back in the seat and let her eyes close, the flash of passing street lights behind her lids alternating with the image of the despair on Hutch's face as he stared into the darkness of the cemetery. She knew him, knew that look. She'd seen it once before when he asked her for a divorce.
Oh, Hutch, you have the absolute worst luck with women…
She must have drifted off to sleep, for when she opened her eyes, they were pulling up in front of the house. Reggie must have called ahead; half a dozen family members stood ready to help them with the cumbersome specimen. One more task before she could sleep.
Dragon Dreams Page 40
