by Kathy Reichs
“How dare you!” Chance exploded. “You had no right!”
“We couldn’t let your weakness of character jeopardize the Claybourne fortune. Or my place in the family.”
Hannah’s eyes slid to us.
“These meddlers have seen and heard things they shouldn’t have.” She smiled sideways. “But don’t worry, Chancey. I’ll take care of the hard part.”
My mind raced.
Stall!
“Baravetto killed Dr. Karsten,” I said. “Why? You could’ve let him go.”
Hannah shrugged. Why not answer? We’d soon be dead.
“We couldn’t have a credible adult talking to the police. And Karsten knew too much about other things. Catching him with you at your hidey-hole was very lucky.”
Other things?
“The parvovirus experiment,” I guessed.
Hannah’s eyes became saucers. “Who told you about that? Even Chance doesn’t know.”
“Check my bag,” I said. “I found the deposit slips. Candela Pharmaceuticals was paying Karsten to perform illegal research. We know all about it.”
Hannah shrugged again. “True. Hollis was paying Karsten to find a cure for canine parvovirus. Candela’s next big score.”
She turned to Chance. “Your father truly is a heartless bastard. If Karsten couldn’t produce a cure, Hollis wanted him to make a designer virus. Doesn’t that sound elegant? A designer virus.”
“What do you mean?” I said.
“Hollis would’ve settled for a new disease, one that only a Candela product could cure. He wanted a virus that would infect dogs, so that he could sell new drugs to their owners. The man is a business genius.”
“That’s despicable. Karsten would never have agreed to that.”
“Who knows?” Hannah shooed the topic like a bothersome fly. “Karsten failed and paid the price. Just like you will.”
I turned to Chance. “Don’t let her do this.”
“He’s not going to help you.” Hannah’s eyes narrowed. “And keep your distance, Tory. I saw how freakishly strong you were at the dance. You knocked Jason flat.”
“Hannah, give me the gun.” Chance spoke firmly. “I don’t know how my father brainwashed you, but I’ll make him pay for it. I’m going to the police.”
“Brainwashed?” Hannah shrilled. “Do you think I’m stupid? That meek, pretty Hannah could never have done this by herself?”
Again, she jabbed the pistol in Chance’s face. “I’m not stupid, Chance. No one tricked me into anything. I’m simply taking what is mine.”
“And what is that?” Chance’s tone was pure ice. “You’re nothing now. It’s over between us. You’ll never set foot in this house again.”
Hannah laughed. “It’s so cute that you think such decisions are up to you!”
Caught off guard, Chance just stared.
I inched closer to the crowbar.
“Your father and I have an understanding, sweetheart. He trusts me to handle his affairs, not you. He thinks I’m more a Claybourne than you are.”
“You’ve lost your mind,” Chance said. “You are not a Claybourne.”
“But I will be,” Hannah replied. “Your father promised. I will marry into this family and be your wife. Just like we’ve always dreamed.”
Her face hardened.
“It’s no longer your decision.”
CHAPTER 70
“You’re crazy.” Chance’s voice trembled with rage. “I’ll never marry you. Not after this. I don’t care what my father said.”
“You’ll do exactly as you’re told!”
Chance recoiled from the shriek.
Hannah was losing control. She could shoot us any second.
I reached the barrel. My fingers brushed the crowbar.
“Don’t worry, baby.” Hannah’s face softened. “We’ll get through this, I promise. Once these nosey-faces are gone, we can put this whole ugly business behind us.” Hannah beamed her most fetching smile. “I’ll be the perfect wife. You’ll see.”
Hannah’s eyes locked onto Chance. For a moment, we no longer existed. Time to act.
Find your power.
I closed my eyes and pictured myself.
Tory Brennan, fourteen. Tall. Skinny. Freckled skin. Red hair. Emerald eyes.
The image crisped.
I added personality traits. Headstrong. Intelligent. Reckless. Loyal.
My mind plugged in memories. Movies and popcorn with Mom. My first awkward meeting with Kit. Reading Aunt Tempe’s books on the beach.
Dream Tory solidified in my brain. I recognized her. Knew her.
Shoving that image aside, I searched for the other part of my psyche. My baser self, driven by primal urges rising from my genes.
I sought the wolf inside me.
My head swam.
The tunnel called.
At its mouth a figure waited. Coop, leaping and twisting in excitement.
My mind locked onto the wolfdog.
Coop barked once, then turned and ran. I followed, deep into the backwaters of my mind.
Time and space blurred. Strange impressions floated from my gray cells. My tongue lapping the cool water of a woodland stream. My teeth stripping flesh from a warm, still carcass. My throat sending howls into a moonlit sky.
SNAP.
Electricity coursed through my body. The world sharpened. My eyes smoldered with golden fire.
I flared.
I screamed inside my head.
Virals! Flare! Now!
The boys flinched at the impact of my message. I sensed their thoughts, faint, like voices floating across a lake.
I broadcast again with all the force of my will.
FLARE NOW!
Ben grabbed his head. Shelton stumbled to one knee. Hi gasped.
All three looked at me.
Eyes glowing.
Don’t ask me how, but I’d forced them to flare.
Now we were a force. We could fight back.
Hannah’s face swiveled our way. The gun followed.
She drew in her breath.
“What’s wrong with your eyes?” Her gaze darted among us. “All of you! What are you doing?”
Divert her!
Hi bolted down the nearest row of wine racks. Disappeared.
“Stop!”
Hannah charged forward and fired wildly down the aisle.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
Glass exploded all around Hi. The smell of gunpowder filled the air.
Hi stumbled to the ground and lay still. A red stain mushroomed from beneath his belly.
Chance stood paralyzed.
“Hi!” Shelton screamed.
I grabbed the crowbar. It felt light as a feather. Like the lasso, I whipped it two-handed and, growling, launched it at Hannah.
Hannah screamed and dove sideways. The rod smashed into the rack behind her. Bottles shattered. The scent of wine joined that of sulfur and smoke.
Ben ran forward and shoulder-slammed Chance to the ground. Reaching the stairwell, he smashed one fist into the light switches. The room was plunged into darkness.
Rising to one knee, Hannah fired two slugs toward Ben.
Crack! Crack!
Sparks flew as the bullets ricocheted off stone.
Scatter!
I bolted left toward the rear of the cellar.
Crack! Crack!
Bullets whizzed by as Hannah fired blindly at my back.
I cut down an aisle. Then slammed on the brakes.
Think! Dead end.
Suddenly I heard thrashing and grunting. Shelton? Ben? I reversed course, determined to help whoever was in trouble.
Strangled voices cut through the gloom.
“Give me the gun!” Chance gasped. “I won’t let you commit murder!”
“No!” Hannah panted. “Let go!”
Something hit the wall hard. I edged forward, hyper-senses on high alert.
Crack!
Hannah screamed.
Virals,
back to the table! Chance needs help!
I crept to the double row of barrels. Lights kicked to life. I froze, prepared to take cover. But only the bulbs overhanging the table were burning. The rest of the cellar remained in shadow.
I heard sobbing.
I peeked over a barrel. A sideboard stood between the table and me. Twenty feet beyond, the staircase was dimly visible in the gloom.
Chance lay sprawled across the first riser, a stain slowly darkening his tee. Hannah crouched over him, crying hysterically.
Still holding the Sig Sauer.
Chance touched his side, then stared at his bloody fingers. His eyes rolled back, then his hand dropped and he lay motionless.
“No!” Hannah wailed.
I was stunned. Chance was shot, maybe dead. And Hannah still had the gun.
Virals! I need adistraction!
A second passed. Then Ben exploded from the aisle to my right and dashed across the open space.
Hannah’s head came up. Her face was pale, her hair chaos.
“You did this!” she screamed, aiming the gun with both hands.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
Ben dove between the racks on the far side. Hannah lurched after him.
As she hurried past an aisle, Shelton popped out behind her.
“Over here, bitch!” Shelton winged a bottle at Hannah’s head.
Hannah dropped to her knees as the missile flew over her. Shattered with a crash. Shelton darted across the room with a wail, disappearing into the opposite racks.
Hannah regained her feet, fired twice.
Crack! Crack!
Two misses. Wine ran across the stone floor.
“You stupid little brats!” Hannah screamed in frustration. “I’ll kill every one you!” She took two steps in Shelton’s direction.
A shadow crossed her face. A big one.
Her eyes darted up.
Too late.
Hi launched from the top of the nearest rack like a pudgy zeppelin.
Hannah scrambled backward, eyes round as Frisbees.
Hi’s shoulder clipped Hannah, but his momentum carried him into the wall.
The gun skittered across the floor.
Hi shook his head, woozy.
Hannah recovered first. Scooping up the Sig, she stood and faced Hi, her back to the table. And to me.
There was nowhere for Hi to run.
Hannah raised her weapon.
I vaulted the barrel, landed on the cabinet, then leapt to the table. Crouching, I groped inside the open cask. My fingers wrapped one of Heaton’s long bones.
Hannah spun to face me. She was ten feet away.
Time slowed.
Two steps. I launched myself from the table’s edge.
Hannah fired twice.
Crack! Crack!
I twisted in midair.
The bullets passed inches from my head.
I hit the ground, rolled, and popped to my feet directly in front of Hannah.
Startled, she raised the gun level with my face.
Squeezed the trigger.
Click.
“Empty.”
I moved like lightning, slapping the gun aside with one hand as I swung Heaton’s thighbone with the other. The femoral head smashed into Hannah’s temple.
Her eyes lost focus.
I swung again, this time gripping the shaft like a baseball bat. The bone connected with a sickening thunk. Hannah crumpled, unconscious.
I dropped my macabre weapon and slumped to my knees. My chest heaved and tears ran down my cheeks. I couldn’t believe what I’d just done.
SNUP.
My flare withered and died. I was too exhausted to care.
“Not bad, Tor.” Hi leaned against the wall, the fire gone from his eyes. “Those were some primo Matrix moves. But a real hero would’ve dodged three bullets.”
Shelton and Ben emerged from the racks. Their eyes had also returned to normal.
“Nice work.” Ben picked up the femur. “Poetic justice, I’d say.”
“Hiram!” Shelton ran to Hi’s side. “Aren’t you bleeding? I thought she shot you!”
“Red wine. When I saw it running everywhere, I played dead.” He winced as Shelton poked his belly. “But I’m not leaping off any more shelves. That was pretty stupid.”
“Whatever, Superman!” Shelton slapped Hi’s shoulder. “That was money!”
Hi chuckled. “No one outmaneuvers the flying blob!”
I glanced over at Chance. He may have worked against us, but he’d tried to save us in the end. Like Karsten.
Ben put two fingers to Chance’s throat. “He’s got a pulse.”
“I’ll call a doctor!” I rushed to the pile of cell phones and dug mine out.
“No signal.” I started up the stairs. “Shelton, you and Hi help Chance if you can. Ben, hog-tie Hannah and secure the evidence. I’ll call an ambulance.”
“And the police.” Shelton said.
“And the police,” I agreed.
I fired up the steps and along the service passage.
As I crossed into the kitchen, an arm circled my neck and a hand yanked my head back, causing me to choke. A gun barrel kissed my throat, forced my chin up.
“Going somewhere?” The raspy whisper was right at my ear. “Looks like I’ll have to do clean-up myself.”
Baravetto dragged me toward a corner, out of view of the window.
“Never send a kid to do a man’s job.”
The gun moved to the side of my head.
SNAP.
My elbow slammed into his ribs.
Air exploded from Baravetto’s mouth. His arm relaxed a hair.
I flexed a leg, kicking backward and connecting with his crotch.
Baravetto screamed and collapsed to his knees.
I yanked a rolling pin from the wall beside me.
Smack!
Baravetto went down. I whacked him a second time just to be safe.
SNUP.
My head swam. Stars danced behind my lids.
I stumbled outside, hunting for a cell signal.
Beep!
I dialed 911. The operator asked if my call was an emergency.
“Ambulance,” I panted. “Terrorists are attacking Claybourne Manor!”
Then I fainted dead away on the grass.
CHAPTER 71
“Tory!” Hi shook my shoulder. “You okay?”
Blink.
Blink. Blink. Blink.
“Whaaa?” The best I could do.
I lay beneath a mammoth Magnolia, a dozen yards from the kitchen door. Every window in the mansion was aglow. Red and blue lights pulsed from somewhere beyond the garden wall.
“We’ve been looking for you!” Hi’s face was frog-belly white. “Hold on, I’ll tell everyone you’re okay! I’ll bring a doctor.”
“Wait.” I sat up and tried to clear my thoughts. “First tell me what happened.”
“The cops are here.” Hi helped me to my feet. “We found Baravetto in the kitchen and got pretty freaked. No one knew where you were.”
“I fainted.” Everything came crashing back. “Chance! How is he?”
“He’s ... okay.” Hi frowned. “I mean, he’s alive, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“But?”
“The bullet barely grazed him. He should be fine.”
Hi trailed off.
“But?” I prodded again.
“But he won’t respond to anyone. He just stares off into space. I think the whole situation messed him up pretty bad.”
Not to mention what Hannah said, I thought. And did.
“How long have I been out?”
“Maybe thirty minutes,” Hi said. “The cops burst in not long after you went upstairs. They thought the building was under attack or something. They kept us cuffed until just minutes ago.”
“Did they arrest Hannah? Baravetto?”
Hi nodded. “When the medics revived her, she totally flipped, started cussing everyone out.”
He smiled. “Especially you.”
Shocker.
“She was completely out of control,” Hi went on. “Basically admitted to everything. That’s why they let us go.”
Good. Let Hannah talk her way into prison. Fine by me.
“Baravetto was unconscious when we found him,” Hi said. “What’d you do to the guy?”
“Kicked him in the balls, then brained him with a rolling pin. Twice.”
“Punted and pinned. Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy. FYI, Hannah is claiming Baravetto killed Karsten. She even told the cops where to find his body.”
“My God, what was she thinking?”
“Trust me, she wasn’t thinking. Hannah is hysterical. Yelling, crying, she was offering anything that might save her own ass.” Hi whistled. “I think she’ll live to regret her loose tongue.”
“If the cops find Karsten’s body, they’ll have enough to convict her and her accomplices.”
“They took Baravetto’s gun. It’s probably the murder weapon.”
“Perfect. I wish the two of them a nice cozy cell.”
“Hollis may get that honor, too,” Hi said. “When Hannah calms down, her defense attorney will undoubtedly cut a deal. You know the police will want the bigger fish.”
“Did you turn over the evidence?”
“Everything. The eagle photos, the land sale documents, Heaton’s skeleton, the fingerprint report, Katherine’s journal. But we couldn’t find the dog tags.”
I patted my pocket. “Got them right here.”
“We told a Detective Borken the whole story.”
“What?” I sat bolt upright.
“Don’t worry,” Hi said. “We didn’t mention Karsten’s experiment, or what happened to us.”
Sudden panic.
“Did you turn over the deposit slip?”
“No, no. We don’t want anyone digging into Karsten’s secret parvo research.”
I relaxed. “Good thinking.”
I thought about Hannah’s claim, that Hollis hired Karsten to design a new virus to infect dogs. I didn’t want to believe it.
Hi read my mind. “Karsten was using Hollis’s money to research a cure for canine parvo. He wouldn’t have created a new disease. I’m sure of it.”
I nodded, hoping Hi was right.
“So everything about our powers—the lab break-in, Coop’s virus, the illness, the flares—you kept all that secret?”
Hi smiled. “Of course. No one knows about the Virals, or what we can do.”
