Which meant she’d never, ever be rid of him!
“Oh, yes,” he said, as the rest of the kids backed away from her, leaving her all alone at the door. He smiled, horribly. “Scream, little rat. You can still serve me. The preparations I made for you can still serve another way. I can take your scrawny little body and there’s not a thing you can do about it, my dear little conduit.” He tilted his head to the side, and licked his lips. “It’s not a body I would have chosen, but beggars can’t be choosers, can they?”
She pressed her back against the cold metal door and stared at him in horror. Because, even though she had no idea how she understood what he meant, she knew exactly what he meant. He was going to take over her body. Move into it, like someone moving into someone else’s house. “No—” she whimpered.
“Yessss,” he hissed.
“Sorry, you old pervert,” said a voice next to her, and the Good Ghost came through the door to stand between her and the Dark Man, planting his feet a little apart and crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re on my turf now, and you aren’t going to touch her.” The Good Ghost grinned. “Time to call the cops on you. Man…I have been wanting to give you what you’ve got coming to you for a long, long time…”
Then he stuck two fingers into his mouth and whistled shrilly.
A hole opened in the air behind the Dark Man. The rest of the kids looked at her in confusion as she gasped—but then, they all started to shiver and whimper as an ice-cold blast of air came out of it, whipping around the room and making anything loose fly around in a mad circle. The Dark Man started, and looked behind him as the lights dimmed.
And then he screamed. Because something shadowy and terrible darted out of the blackness of the hole and seized him in far too many skeletal arms. He struggled against it, still screaming, but to no more effect than if he had been a child.
A child. Like Penny. Like all his victims.
And then, the thing hauled him backwards, still fighting, into the black hole in the air. His flailing hands were the last thing Penny saw. Then the hole closed, and he was gone.
The cold wind stopped. The others gathered around her, staring at her, as the Good Ghost stood there still, with his feet apart and his arms crossed over his chest again, smiling in satisfaction. “Penny?” Pike ventured, his voice quavering. “Penny? What just happened?”
“He’s dead…” she breathed in wonder. “He’s dead. The Dark Man’s dead. He ain’t gonna be able to hurt no one no more—”
And then she burst into tears. She didn’t even know why.
* * *
Red came immediately to his feet and stepped forward, shielding Vickie from the lumbering hulk with his own body.
“Vix,” he said calmly. “Forget what I said before. I got this. You need to get out of here.”
“You can’t take him! Her!” Vickie hissed. “You said it yourself!”
Red cursed and shook his head, but his eyes remained fixed on the massive form of his former lover. “Seriously? What did I just say? Can you do what I ask, just this once? Get up, get moving, get those kids, and get the hell out of here! I got this.”
Vickie felt as if she was being torn apart on every single level. She couldn’t leave him here to face Doppelgaenger alone. She had to. She had to get those kids out. And damn him, damn him, he was right. DG under the guise of Mel had had the run of ECHO for months, and she and Eight were the only ones who could figure out what Mel had gotten into and mitigate the damage. And Eight couldn’t do it alone. Eight could help her, because he was faster than she was, but he couldn’t do it by himself. He didn’t know where or how to look, and didn’t have any magic she hadn’t given him. There was still too much she was going to have to do herself. And it was going to take still more time to get Eight to the point where he really could do most of what she did now on Overwatch. She had to go.
She couldn’t leave Red. She had to. The fight within her was brutal, but short. Duty and responsibility won.
“Come back to me,” Vickie said fiercely. It was barely more than a whisper, but she put every particle of will she had into the words. Wincing, she rose unsteadily to her feet. “I love you. You come back to me. Say it.”
“I will,” the Djinni said, and risked a look back at her. “I’ll come back! Now run!”
Doppelgaenger watched them, seemingly at ease and with amusement. She stood in place, her gaze switching lazily between them, but the moment the Djinni turned away, she leapt forward, a snarl erupting from frothing lips. With a massive backhanded swipe, she batted the Djinni away and landed in front of Vickie, who screamed and scrambled backwards, almost falling back on her hands. Her monstrous assailant laughed, bent down, and gingerly picked something up off the cracked linoleum. She held it up, and in the dim light Vickie saw something shining, as if it had been lovingly polished. It was Red’s broken claw, the one she had secretly worn about her neck for the past year and more. She must have lost it in the fight with her great-uncle. For so long, it had been all that she had of him, all she ever could have without interfering in his life. It actually had been polished, by her own hands, unconsciously caressing it the way a newly married bride unconsciously turns and caresses her wedding ring. It had been her one link to him, her way to get to him and get him out of whatever trouble he’d gotten himself into. To keep him safer, if not completely protected. To keep him close to her, even when he was halfway across the world.
And with a flourish, it was gone, as Doppelgaenger parted her hungry lips and swallowed it whole. She sighed in contentment, and chuckled as her attention fell back on the wounded mage.
“Should have listened to him,” Doppelgaenger crooned, her voice still disconcertingly feminine, even sultry. “Should have run. You were lovely as the bait, Vickie, but I think I’m done with you now. I think I’m done with sparing lives. I think it’s time for the fun to come back.”
Terror transmuted to rage. And rage was energy. “Fiat lux!” she screamed, throwing out her bare hand, and blinding light exploded around Doppelgaenger’s head. One of the first spells she had learned. One of the easiest, the simplest, the one that took the least energy. One that, used cleverly, could be incredibly potent. And in the brief moment while Doppelgaenger was dazzled, she scrambled to her feet and raced for the door.
And from behind, she heard that chilling chuckle again.
“Tricks,” Doppelgaenger said. “You think to use tricks on me. I am going to enjoy tearing your limbs off…”
But as the brute lumbered towards her, Red Djinni erupted from the shadows and wrapped his arms around Doppelgaenger’s neck, making her stagger backwards.
“Run!” Red bellowed. “Run! Don’t look back!”
Sobbing, she obeyed him and ran; wrenched open the metal door and tumbled out into the hall. She glanced frantically in either direction. All the doors were open in this hallway, so wherever the kids were, they weren’t here. Oh gods, which way? Over Djinni’s freq she heard Doppelgaenger talking—why? No matter, if DG was talking, he—she—it wasn’t fighting and the further away she got, the more Red would concentrate on saving himself and not on her.
Mel, Mel, he’s been Mel all along. He? She? Oh gods, gods, gods, I have got to get back and start damage control—
Suddenly she heard the kids screaming. No, not screaming. Calling. Jumbles of “Miss! Miss! Here! Help us! Please! Let us out!”
How the hell—never mind. She ran with her arms holding her stabbing ribs, followed the cries around the corner to another hall and a locked room, moving as fast as she dared, breathing as shallowly as she could. Then, just to complicate things, on one of her CCCP freqs she heard Untermensch barking. “CCCP onsite. Tovarisch Victrix, where are you?”
I don’t know, I don’t know—but Eight-Ball might—“Jesus—show them Eight-Ba—” she began when Eight-Ball interrupted with “Follow the HUD, comrade,” in crisp Ukrainian.
* * *
Red hung on, squeezing his arms together around her m
assive neck with all the strength he had. As chokeholds went, it was pretty solid. Good pressure on the windpipe, solid bracing with his shoulder, she should have been gasping for breath.
So it was somewhat anticlimatic when Doppelgaenger sighed and gave him a contemptuous look over her shoulder.
“You just about done?” she asked.
Red cursed and let go, dropping a good three feet to the ground, and rolled away. He came to a resting bounce, balanced on the balls of his feet.
“Nope,” he answered cheerfully. “You’ve got a lot of fight left in me to deal with, darlin’.”
“Oh, I’m counting on it,” she said, if a bit ruefully. “We can’t dally here, y’know. Didn’t go through all this trouble just to get pinched. Needed to separate you, needed ECHO to give up on you, needed to eliminate the one person left who would likely pursue you. Or at least keep her busy long enough to do what I have to. But I’m relieved to be here, finally. I just wanted you to know that. Here we are, we’re at that place, where you know, finally, who I am. It’s important. Soon, you’re going to know everything I am. It’s only fair that we start this leg of the journey on equal ground.”
Red stopped bouncing, and came to a full stop. He eyed her warily, and suddenly his stomach revolted and he started to gag.
“How long?” he managed, between dry heaves. “How long…?”
“How long what?”
“How long have you been Mel?” he asked again, holding his hands to his heaving chest.
“Oh, honey,” Doppelgaenger sighed. “It was always me, the parts that mattered anyway. The parts that you’re…um…reacting about.” She gave the Djinni a sympathetic look. “Does it help when I tell you everything will make sense, real soon? That it won’t seem so terrible, so alien?”
“Dude!” Red shouted. “You’re…you’re a dude! How is this not going to seem messed up?”
“Really?” Doppelgaenger said, and gave the Djinni a withering look. “You’re going to get stuck on gender? You know, Djinni, like it or not, you connected with someone. Really connected. Gender aside, great sex aside, we shared something I don’t think either of us ever really had before, and don’t try to deny it. It’s me. I know what you felt, what we shared. Once you come to grips with that, I don’t think the rest will be so hard. Well, except that I’m going to torture you within an inch of your life. But besides that…”
Doppelgaenger sniffed, and began to advance on him, her muscles rippling as she emerged from the shadows.
“Let’s make this quick,” she growled. “Got a ride waiting, and like I said, I didn’t go through all this trouble to get sloppy and pinched now.”
* * *
Vickie cupped her hand over the electronic door lock, and dredged up a little more strength, as the kids continued to call to her, hysterically, from the other side. Please make this one I know…she prayed, trickling the little bit of power she had scraped out of the bottom of her proverbial barrel into the lock.
Nothing. She tried again. Nothing. And now over Red’s channel she heard crashes and howls of pain. He was fighting for his life, for their lives; there was nothing she could do to help him and she couldn’t even get the damn door open! Sobbing, she balled up her bare hand and pounded it on the wall. “Damn you! Why won’t you—”
A hand fell on her shoulder. Before she could react, new energy flooded into her so fast her hair stood on end.
“Eight-Ball has told us of the children. Get them out, comrade!” Thea’s soft contralto urged, and she cupped her hand over the keypad again.
This time the magic worked. There was a buzz from the door, the sound of a lock thudding back, and Thea hauled at the handle. In moments, the door sprang open, and a torrent of hysterical children dressed only in hospital pajamas poured out.
* * *
Red dodged another of Doppelgaenger’s lightning fast blows and darted around the room, desperately trying to keep out of reach. He had already been tagged a couple of times, the last blow had smashed him up into the ceiling, nearly knocking him out. It didn’t help that the room was fairly devoid of anything that could be used as an effective weapon. It didn’t help that this room was so damned small. It really didn’t help that Doppelgaenger was so big. Most of all, it didn’t help that Red wasn’t exactly in his right mind.
Vickie…Don’t waste time, hurry your ass up and get out…
Vickie…I love you.
Doppelgaenger…is Mel. I love Mel. She’s not Mel. She’s not, right? She is, you know she is…everything she’s said is true. You love Doppelgaenger. Oh, for the luva…
He kept moving, kept dodging, but it was only a matter of time, and as he slipped on an ill-timed feint, he felt an enormous hand close around his neck, snatching him out of midair. He gasped and flailed wildly as Doppelgaenger brought him up for a kiss. She gave him a brief peck on his forehead, ignoring the feeble blows leveled at her head and desperate kicks to her stomach.
“Take a nap, lover,” she cooed, and rapped his head sharply against the wall.
He went limp in her hand and she began to whistle as she brought him closer, prying his mouth open with her fingers. With a short grunt of effort, she let her fingers elongate into thin, tough claws and ran one delicately over the roof of his mouth. She chuckled, victorious, and with a swift motion neatly excised the oral component of his Overwatch Two apparatus. She examined the bloody kernel of machinery between her fingers, let it fall to the ground, and slung the Djinni over her shoulder.
“That should disrupt detection for now,” she sighed. “Enough to spirit you away and finish the job in private.”
She looked up, and with an effortless leap, bounded up through the broken skylight to the waiting roof.
“And that’s where our magic happens, doesn’t it, Red?” she said, landing lightly on her feet, and patted Red’s limp form affectionately. “In private.”
* * *
One of the children, a little girl who was the last one out, suddenly plastered herself against Vickie. “He told me you would come!” she half-sobbed. “He told me!”
“Who told you, child?” That was Untermensch. He looked around at the horde of kids. “Children! Stay with me! I will show you the way out!” Whether they were used to instantly obeying the orders issued by scary-looking men, or just had common sense under all that hysteria, they all quieted down and pressed up against him in a group, like baby chicks against a mother hen.
“Him! The Good Ghost!” the little girl said, and pointed at nothing. And the hair stood up on Vickie’s neck because she felt it, something she had only felt once or twice in her life. Cold. Physical and spiritual cold. Power, a force she could recognize even if she couldn’t touch it or use it. There was a spirit here. And the child could see it, even if she couldn’t.
“Poor child, she is—” Thea began, shaking her head doubtfully, but Vickie interrupted her.
“No, she sees something. It’s real—” but she in her turn was interrupted by the little girl grabbing her hand and pulling her down the hall.
“He knows where the others are! He’s going to show me!” the child said urgently, and Vickie let herself be pulled along. Untermensch and Upyr and the mob of children followed in their wake.
Two more rooms. Two more groups of children. Two more locks to open with magic. And now the little girl was urging her on again. “Here! Here! He says Lacey is here!” The child pulled Vickie down the hall so fast her head was spinning, her whole body felt on fire in a way that it hadn’t in months, and the pain in her ribs was like a red-hot iron corset. Then the little girl took Vickie’s bare hand and put it on the keypad beside the door. “Make it open! Make it open now!” she demanded, more frantic than imperious.
The door opened. There was a single occupant to this small cell, a woman lying with her back against the wall, legs a-sprawl.
Jesus—Mel?
It was Mel. A Mel with matted, disheveled hair, dressed in a filthy hospital gown. And shockingly…with only one
hand. The left arm ended in a bandaged stump.
A Mel who took one look at them and charged at them, screaming at the top of her lungs.
Somehow Vickie managed a takedown, purely on reflex, leaving Mel sprawling, dazed, on the floor. And Upyr stepped in between them and planted one naked hand on Mel’s face. A moment later, Upyr took her hand away, flushed pink rather than her usual paper-white, the sign she had drained someone of energy, and Mel was out cold.
“Is this the last, child?” Untermensch asked, bending down and heaving Mel over his shoulder with a grunt.
The child nodded and Untermensch started to turn.
“But—Red—” Vickie protested in a wail. To her shock, Upyr seized her arm.
“The Commissar and Belladonna say to get you out,” Thea said firmly in Russian, knowing Vickie would understand, but the children would not. “The Eight-Ball voice on Overwatch Two says that Red Djinni insisted to get you out. You will leave with us now, or I will drain you until you are unconscious. Georgi can carry two.”
“Da,” Untermensch confirmed, with a glower in her direction. “Now come and do not force Thea to make you flat.”
Running, with Thea’s hand on her shoulder to give her the extra strength, she and Thea and Georgi, children in front of them, children behind them, made for the way out that Eight-Ball was showing on their HUDs. They all poured like a flood through the corridor of the not-so-abandoned building, down two flights of stairs, and finally out an emergency exit. The kids had piled up against the door, and Georgi shoved his way through them and opened it by the simple expedient of giving it the boot so hard the door slammed into the wall outside and the upper hinges broke with a metallic shriek. The kids fled through a jungle of weeds to the cracked and broken asphalt of an old parking lot, which was where Vickie turned, still pulled back by Red’s peril—because now there were no more noises of combat on Red’s channel. There was nothing, actually. The signal had gone dead. She killed his rig. That bitch killed his rig! I can’t track him!
Avalanche: Book Five in the Secret World Chronicle Page 39
