“That’s the one. The way he watches, it makes it all feel dirty and sordid.” Opal curled her lip. “Usually when I dance, I feel powerful and sexy, like I’m on top of the world.”
“But he makes you feel afraid.” It wasn’t a guess.
“Yeah. Like he’s decided to have me gift-wrapped and sent to his hotel.” Opal studied the crowded bar. “Listen, do you mind walking me to my car? It’s just around the corner.”
“It’s no trouble at all.” Michael smiled. Such a little gesture of chivalry, but now it was familiar turf, an ordinary sort of heroics.
“Thanks. We can slip out back.” They walked together out the backdoor exit to the alley. It was hard to believe that only yesterday, he’d followed Dani there. Everything had changed after that moment.
“Raoul’s been walking me to my car every night in case Redneck decides to show up. He takes good care of all of us.” Opal fidgeted with her car keys. “I hate to bother him when he’s so busy.”
“You have good instincts,” Michael commented as he held the door for her. “People second-guess their instincts too much. They know there’s danger, but they don’t want to make a bad impression or seem paranoid.” Or are completely overconfident, his conscience reminded him.
“My instincts have been screaming overtime lately. I don’t even notice being afraid any more. I’m too used to it.” Opal shrugged.
Michael started to answer, but movement on the street caught his attention. He stopped, trying to resolve the shifting patterns of black against shadow into something that made sense. Opal tensed, and her knuckles paled around the keys.
The shadows became a man dressed in a plaid shirt, blocking the exit from the alley to the street. Opal’s eyes widened in fear and she stepped back, shaking her head in instinctive refusal. The door clanged shut behind them, locking them out.
Michael moved to stand between Opal and Redneck. “Step aside.”
The man weaved on the spot, swaying back and forth as if too drunk to stand, but no bleariness dimmed his eyes. He barely acknowledged Michael’s existence; he only saw Opal. “Pretty, pretty,” he crooned as if calling a cat.
Opal clutched Michael’s arm, and her terror swamped into him. Her mind and body were frozen, paralyzed by the flood of adrenaline. The moment she’d imagined and feared for weeks was playing out, leaving her trapped.
“Sir, you need to step back,” Michael ordered, forcing himself to shut out Opal’s panic.
“So pretty.” Redneck swayed forward. “Don’t want to talk to me.”
“That’s right. She doesn’t want to talk to you.” Michael was fairly certain the man wasn’t actually drunk, but something had influenced him, pushing aside his inhibitions and judgment. With a sinking feeling, he wondered if it could be whatever lurked inside Dani. He remembered the fight from the nightclub and braced himself. Redneck might be past talking down.
“No one wants to listen to me.” The man actually sniffed in self-pity.
Michael eased Opal backward a step. If the other man charged, he needed room to maneuver. He was unsteady enough that they should be able to slip past him if they timed it right.
“This time, she’ll listen.” Redneck reached into a pocket and pulled out a shiny, snub-nosed gun.
Michael froze. A gun changed the equation. No amount of training let someone dodge bullets.
Redneck charged.
Michael tried to trip him, and the other man tried to dodge. Mostly—the edge of Michael’s foot scraped along the outside of his calf, hissing against the fabric and knocking them both off-balance. Michael slammed into the uneven brick wall, scratching his arms and legs raw. Redneck fell forward, his hand catching on Opal’s blouse and ripping it wide open.
Opal screamed.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Dani swallowed her drink, ignoring the burn of alcohol on her tongue. Her thoughts were tangled in a Gordian knot and no sword-wielding Greek waited to make it simple. Do not think about gorgeous men in halters and carrying swords. It’s not going to help. But the usual mental parade of cast members from 300 was oddly flat and unstimulating until one of them began to take on sharper cheekbones and sandy hair flopping boyishly into his eyes.
Not going there! She struggled to regain control. The Huntress snapped in her mind, deprived of its new obsession. It had never been so bad, not even when… her mind shied away from the memory.
Raoul held up the bottle, concern widening his eyes, silently asking if she wanted another drink. Dani shook her head. She didn’t dare lose control but couldn’t stand the emotional rawness. She waited for the anesthetic blunting of the alcohol to take effect. What do I do now?
The Huntress knew. It wanted to sink its fangs deep into Michael and suck his soul out. Sweat trickled around her hairline and down her back as she fought the monster inside.
A scream slashed through her internal battle, uniting both halves at once.
She jumped to her feet, ignoring the startled reactions as she moved far more quickly than any human could have managed. Her body moved before she could consciously pin down where the scream had come from: the back alley.
She burst through the back door, startling her prey. The stench of whiskey identified him even before the plaid shirt. The sight of his victims brought a snarl from both her and the Huntress. Redneck struggled with Michael, who stood between him and a weeping, screaming Opal—Tanisha. The dancer’s blouse had been ripped open, leaving her plain cotton bra on display.
The bastard threatened people she cared about. Her rage snapped free of any restraint. She surged forward, grabbing Redneck by the shoulder with one hand. His bones creaked in protest under her grip, but she was long past caring. She lifted him up and hurled him against the rough brick wall. Her eyes were burning, and she knew the Huntress’s red rings gleamed in the night.
Tanisha’s tears barely registered. She knew Michael was helping the girl as the dancer curled against the back wall, obeying primal instincts to find physical security. Leaving her coworker in Michael’s capable hands, Dani focused exclusively on her target.
Redneck Whiskey rose heavily to his feet, his face scraped and bleeding. He heaved a booze-soaked breath, ready to launch into denials.
Neither part of her was inclined to listen. Dani backhanded him, all her thwarted lust transmuted into blind fury. Her blow lifted him off his feet and sent him crashing onto the concrete. It felt strangely unsatisfying.
He popped back up, angrier than before. Drugged, oblivious, or driven, something had him fired up enough to keep fighting. His return blow was clumsy. Dani dodged it easily, slamming her fist into his gut.
A sour whoosh of air blasted her as he tried not to throw up. All the fear over her brothers, the frustration of her self-imposed restraint, the simmering pain from every slight and attack in her life, it all coalesced into this pathetic man who bullied people for sexual favors. Dani’s vision narrowed into tight focus.
He staggered back, wheezing. “I only wanted to talk.”
“He had a gun,” Tanisha whispered from where Michael stood protectively over her.
Dani spotted the shiny pistol near her feet. This man deserved to meet the Goddess, but she’d be damned if she’d allow him to lay a finger on her.
Flush from frustration and violence, she bent and picked it up. It filled her hand, comfortably heavy. Fully loaded. Safety off. “So start talking.” Dani squeezed off a round, blasting a chip into the pavement beside him. The blast echoed through the alley, drowning out Redneck’s whimpers.
She ignored Tanisha’s shrieks, concentrating on her prey. He cowered, raising his hands over his head as the tears blubbered out.
“Not so fucking tough now, are you?” Dani sneered, disgusted by his cringing. No one came running. In this neighborhood, it wasn’t a surprise.
“What are you going to do?” he whined.
The blazing red circles coalesced around her irises. The Huntress hissed in agreement. Cull the unworthy. She lifted
the gun and cocked the hammer.
“Dani! Don’t!”
Michael’s voice—the only one that could have stopped her. Immediately the Huntress shifted focus to its preferred prey.
Dani closed her eyes, slipping her finger off the trigger. “You know what he is.”
“He’ll be punished. By the cops. By the law.” She could hear Michael moving slowly toward her.
Punished? He’ll get a slap on the wrist. Everyone knows you can’t “assault” an exotic dancer. We’re asking for it. Bitterness coated her tongue, drying her mouth. Better to put an end to him now. I’m finished here anyway. Rage burned inside her. She’d worked hard to get this job, to find a place of acceptance, and now it was all over because of some petty bully who couldn’t accept “not interested” as an answer. He should pay.
“Trust me, Dani.” Michael kept talking like a damn hostage negotiator. Couldn’t he see what was happening here? Didn’t he know better?
The aggression rushed out of her. Of course he didn’t. Despite his extraordinary gifts, despite what they revealed about the world, he still believed. She couldn’t be the one to break him. Not like this. Certainly not over a little piece of shit.
She heard sirens in the distance, coming closer.
Redneck still cowered on his knees. Dani squatted, still holding the gun on him. “They better convict you. Because otherwise I’ll be coming. And next time, no one will be there to fucking stop me.”
Blank terror convinced her that he understood.
“Dani,” Michael warned. “They can’t find you here.”
She’d already been in the police station in the last two days. Dani tossed aside the gun, rising from her haunches. Michael grabbed it and began to rub it with his shirt.
“Get the trigger. Nothing else holds prints.”
The haunted pain in his eyes hit her like a slap across the face. After all that, she’d broken his faith with her words just as she would have broken his mind. Unfamiliar shame choked her, and she slipped inside the club as the first cops arrived on scene.
“Thank you for your statement, Miss.” Joe finished jotting down notes on his pad while Michael hovered protectively in the background. Instinctively grasping the necessity, Opal hadn’t mentioned Dani’s name or presence at all. Her stalker had confronted her and Michael, she screamed, and a local Samaritan came to help, disappearing before the cops arrived. Redneck Whiskey wasn’t about to admit to anything different. He still alternately clung to the arresting officers and the alley wall, pouring out his confession to anyone who would listen, weeping tears of relief.
Michael didn’t quite know how to react. In all his training, he’d never seen someone move so fast or inflict so much damage with so little effort. But it wasn’t only the violence. He’d seen Dani’s eyes, wild and eager and alight with rings of fire. The Dani he knew and respected hadn’t been in control. He suspected the alien presence he’d sensed earlier and wondered if he could have just as easily been the target.
In comics and movies, the violence was always exciting and justified. Good guys hit bad guys, bad guys fell down, and the audience cheered. A simple formula played out in a million variations. But this was different. He couldn’t cheer the reality.
“This isn’t a place I expected to see you, Michael,” Joe interrupted his thoughts. The formal tone told Michael that he wasn’t dealing with Joe his friend but rather with Joe the police officer.
“Something different to try.” Michael shrugged one shoulder, his fingers playing with the hem on his jacket.
Joe raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You saw what happened.”
“I was walking her to her car. He confronted us, pulled out the gun, and grabbed at her. I tried to stop him, but we got tangled up. I got knocked down and that’s when the other guy came out. I was focused on Opal. I didn’t get a good look.” Mostly true, he shouted at his conscience.
“This guy has a record of stalking and assault. The girl is lucky this helper showed up.”
“She is.” Michael glanced at Opal, wishing he could have a chance to talk to her. Her head and arms hung slackly, her eyes haunted and distant. She would need a lot of help to get over this.
“Was it you?”
“What?” Shock dropped his jaw.
“I know you like playing the hero.” Joe smiled slyly. “And that’s okay, man. But I need to know, is the guy gonna describe you when I ask who hit him?”
“No. It wasn’t me. I couldn’t do that.” Dull thuds of fists and flesh echoed through his mind and revulsion throttled his stomach.
“You’ve got the training. I’ve seen you take down guys bigger than this.”
“Stopped them. Not hurt them. Not like this.”
Joe stared at him, concern furrowing his brow. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Michael took a deep breath, forcing the unpleasant memories into the depths of his brain. He had been confident he could handle Dani’s invisible monster, but now he wondered if he’d made a major mistake. “I need you to trust me, Joe. Just take care of Opal.”
“Tell me what you’ve gotten yourself into. This isn’t a movie, man. You could end up getting yourself killed.”
“I won’t. I promise.” Michael squared his shoulders, meeting Joe’s eyes with conviction. “Trust me.”
Joe studied him. “Something’s changed.”
“Did Martha get in touch with you about Bernie?” Michael asked, changing the subject.
The grin disappeared as if dropped. “It’s a bad situation. She’s got a lot of child protective services reports against her.”
Joe’s disbelief stung. “They’re fake. Martha never hurt Bernie in her life.”
“I know you might not want to believe it, but it doesn’t look good.”
“Joe, I’m telling you the record is wrong. I’ve worked with this family for the last five years. I would know about any visits or reports,” Michael repeated. His mind whirled, settling on a startling realization. He’d met Vapor, who could make records appear and disappear. Expanding Horizons must have someone similar.
Joe raised a skeptical eyebrow, and Michael’s hopes sank further. Martha couldn’t fight against someone or something who could tip the odds so impossibly against her. The courts wouldn’t believe a wild conspiracy theory about manufactured records. His hopes of getting Bernie back through a legal process went from optimistic to being on life support. He looked back at the club’s crumbling brick wall to avoid meeting Joe’s steady scrutiny. Dani was right to call him naïve. A shadowy, illegal operation might be the only way to help Bernie now.
“Michael, I don’t like the look in your eyes. Are you planning to go vigilante on me? We had a deal: you bring me the tips, I arrest the offenders.” Joe’s hand hovered as if to touch his friend but then fell back.
“If I went vigilante, I’d be pretty stupid to tell you about it in advance. The less you know about this, the better.” Michael knew his friend wasn’t going to take his advice.
He was right. “Is this about that girl from the bookie bar?” Joe demanded. “Is she the reason you’re mixed up in this?”
“The girl in question is ten years old, a delusional schizophrenic being held by doctors who are hurting her. And there’s not a damn thing any judge or cop in the city will do about it.” Michael held Joe’s gaze. The time for playing by the rules was over. Their adversary had already gained a lot of ground by ignoring them.
“Michael, please. I don’t want to have to arrest you. Or worse, ID you in the morgue. Come back to the station with me. We’ll figure this out.”
Michael wanted to. He wanted to believe the two of them could work something out and save the girl—save both girls, Bernie and Dani. He studied Redneck again as the medic mopped blood from his broken nose. He watched as Opal gave her statement while shivering under a blanket.
“This isn’t something you want to know about,” Michael said slowly. “I’m deeper into the freaky stuff than I ever knew existed. I don�
�t know if there’s a way back.”
“There is always a way back. This could get a lot uglier.” Joe’s earnestness came from a good place, wanting to protect his friend.
But Michael was past being protected from doing what was right. He knew the truth, and he had an obligation to act on it since no one else would. “It already has.”
The sadness in Michael’s voice shot right to Joe’s gut. He could see his friend swallowing hard, trying to keep his cop persona intact.
“But I have to see this through,” Michael finished.
“Promise to call me if you need help. Any help.” It was a final straw to grasp, a slim olive branch to keep their friendship intact.
“I will.” But he wasn’t sure he would.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Dani watched as the cops gently tucked Tanisha into a squad car to take her home, safely anonymous among the crowd of dancers gawking at the proceedings. She kept well to the back, avoiding any official attention. No one here would betray her, but there was no point risking it. Reckless energy still crackled across her nerve endings, leaving her drunk on her own power. The Huntress coiled around her, far too close to the surface for comfort. Dani should be getting as far away as she could.
But she lingered, watching, unable to stop contrasting old memories of her treatment with Tanisha’s. She had expected ridicule and impatience. Instead, the cops were listening with sympathy. They’d put a blanket around Tanisha to ward off shock. Whenever Redneck shifted, the cops shifted, keeping themselves between her and her attacker. Everything was so different from what she’d experienced before. Every gesture the authorities made told her Tanisha would be sheltered. There were no eye rolls, no shrugs, no huffs of irritation.
She swallowed a strange sensation of feeling small and alone. She wanted to go to Michael and go back an hour to when he still looked at her like a hero. She wanted to sit with Tanisha and accept the small comfort the cops offered. But she could never have trusted them, never relaxed in their care. The chill clasp of handcuffs was more familiar than the rasp of mass-issued blankets.
Revelations: Book One of the Lalassu Page 14
