“How the hell do you think you can...?” Gillian said, voice wavering.
“Just hold on to me,” Talia said. “It’s about to get dark.”
Talia reached, gripped cold, ethereal silk, and brought down the shadows. Gillian’s hand floundered in the sudden absence of senses. Talia grabbed it, attached her to Patty, and clasped Patty’s hand.
The wraiths waded into her darkness, searching, racing for the car.
Talia drew the gun. The handle slipped in her slick palm. She let go of the women to clasp the weapon with both hands.
She raised the gun, hoping it was loaded, aimed at the wraith climbing over the vehicle, and fired.
The report thumped dully in her grasp. The gun expelled the bullet and the glittering missile traveled the darkness sluggishly, surreal trails warping the air in its wake.
Talia saw the miss in the bullet’s trajectory and—heart lodged in her throat—willed the silver projectile on a more accurate course.
The bullet obeyed.
Whoa...Talia swallowed her shock and drove the pellet between the wraith’s eyes with her mind. His screech cut short as his body fell dumbly to the pavement.
Gillian’s fluttering hands found the car. She opened the driver’s-side door and crawled across to the passenger side. Patty didn’t follow, but turned and looked blankly into the darkness.
“You first,” Patty called. Her voice bent and echoed, now distant, now near, across the shadows. She blindly grabbed hold of Talia’s shirt to forcibly push her into the car.
Not enough time. The three remaining wraiths descended. Lacking sight, they slinked up to the car with arms outstretched.
Talia raised the gun again and shot at close range. The wraith crumbled. Another crouched, hand braced on the concrete, preparing to strike.
She aimed again, but an arm banded around her waist. Patty, attempting to drag her into the car. Talia’s balance faltered.
A wraith lashed out and caught Talia at her wrist. The pressure of his grasp made her bones ache. Her fingers prickled, then burned, and the gun dropped to the street with a distant pat and bounce.
Talia struggled against his hold, sitting into her hips and throwing her weight back. But he was too strong. Too immovable. She was a rag doll for his rough play.
Tears blurred her vision as she tried to pry his grip away. No good. Hopeless.
“He’s got me,” Talia gasped at Patty. “Go!”
But Patty stepped in front of Talia. Patty’s trembling hand found the wraith’s grip. Instead of trying to pull him off, which was pointless, she traveled up his arm to his shoulder.
“Patty, they won’t hurt me. They tried to take me alive before. Alive. I’ll be fine,” Talia said. Her eyes pricked. This was it, the end, and she knew it. Those wraiths might take her alive, but once there, things would be bad. Very bad.
Patty launched herself at the monster. Grabbed hold of his head. And kissed him on the mouth.
Talia’s heart stopped in awe, tears burning down her face.
The opportunity was too much for the wraith to resist. The wraith released Talia’s arm. She fell back and hit her head on the car. Was grabbed from behind and pulled inside.
“Where’s Patty?” Gillian shouted, the sound distant. “I can’t see a freaking thing!”
Talia could. The wraith tilted his head, opened his mouth, and fed. An agonizing wrench tore at Talia’s heart—no deeper—as Patty’s essence disappeared into his maw. A great spirit, beautiful in its clarity, shuddered and then doused in the monster’s gullet.
“Talia!” Gillian yelled again.
Talia bled internally at the loss. She didn’t deserve the gift, but she wouldn’t see it sacrificed in vain. Not if she could help it. She slammed the door shut.
Gillian already had the key in the ignition, the engine idling. Talia released the parking brake, set the car in drive, and floored it.
CHAPTER 11
Adam settled himself into a column of numbers, expenses generated by his staff doing fieldwork all over the world. He approved most out of hand, particularly those for comfort and keep. The work at Segue was grueling, ongoing, and increasingly dangerous as the wraith population spread and redoubled. If a suite in a hotel made research less of a burden, so be it. Money really didn’t matter anymore.
His mobile phone buzzed on his desk, traveling slightly over the page with the vibration. He picked it up and hit TALK.
A woman’s voice sobbed unintelligibly into the phone, threaded with panic and near hysteria. Adam’s gut knotted—he recognized the identifying timbre lacing her disjointed syllables.
“Gillian?” He kept his voice calm, though his pulse leaped. “What’s happened?”
“They’re behind us...coming to Segue.”
“Wraiths?” Adam hit the central alarm, alerting the staff to go to their designated meeting place and account for one another. A list of on-site personnel flicked onto his monitor. The floor trembled as the redundant security measures cut off Jacob’s cell from the rest of Segue—the guards downstairs would just have to wait this out. He queued the Segue perimeter cameras. A typical midmorning on the mountain. All quiet, the tree leaves shuffling softly. Yet their early shadows seemed menacing now. Too dark and concealing.
He never should’ve allowed the women to leave without an armed escort. He’d succumbed to the worst possible mental rut, a false sense of security. He’d been careful to keep Segue’s function hidden from anyone outside his carefully selected team of researchers, but over time the weight of secrecy would have gained an imperative inertia of its own. Someone eventually had to slip. Had already slipped.
“We left Patty.” Gillian’s tone was accusatory. Blaming him? He deserved it. “They got Patty. Adam, Patty’s dead.”
Adam felt a wrenching snap of a heartstring, the one that tethered him to Aunt Pat, and through her to his parents, his childhood, all the what-might-have-beens. But he couldn’t think of Pat now. That would be another mistake. He’d remember her later, if there were a later.
He switched the handset for a mobile earplug.
“And Talia?” His voice rasped as he hit the rifle safe attached to the wall behind him. He selected the AR-15 rifle with the drum magazine, put the strap over his shoulder, and a Glock, which he kept in his hand, ready. He grabbed extra magazines and carriers and attached them to his belt.
“Talia’s fine.” The accusatory tone again. “She’s driving.”
He glanced at the external Segue vid feeds. Rolling lawn. Trees. Narrow road leading into town. Nothing yet.
“How long until you’re here?” At least they had the Ferrari and its eight-cylinder engine, if Talia could keep the car on the road.
“I don’t know. We just passed the boulders.”
The boulders were massive distinctive crags that marked the crest of the mountain pass on the road to Segue just before the trees closed in. Ten minutes. Less, in that car.
“Direct Talia to the rear entrance. When you reach the building, be prepared to run inside. Seat belts already off. You understand?” Adam peeled out his door and ran down the deserted corridor to the back stairs. No elevators during lockdown.
“Oh, shit,” Gillian breathed in his ear.
“What now?” Keep it calm, he reminded himself.
“Helicopter.”
“Helicopter chasing you?” A cold finger of horror slid down Adam’s spine. Had to be a coordinated strike. It’d been six days since Talia arrived, and The Collective had used the week to formulate an extraction strategy. He thought she’d be safe here. That they’d all be safe here. Aunt Pat...He’d promised them all safety.
“No. It’s ahead of us, turning around. We’re going to die.”
“Calm down, Gillian. I’ll get you through this”—another false promise?—“but only if you can stay calm. Is Talia okay? Is she freaking out?”
“No. Talia is fucking ice. She left Patty—Patty!—back there with those monsters.”
So that
was it. Patty was gone, but trust Talia to know when to get to safety. She’d had enough practice at it. Even beaten down, the woman was a survivor.
As planned in the event of a wraith incursion, Adam found Custo in front of the door to the stairwell, similarly armed with a semiautomatic shotgun, punching in the master override that barred the staircase.
“Keep your head, Gillian,” Adam commanded. “Follow my instructions. I’ll be waiting for you. Stay on the line.”
Custo pounded up the stairs, Adam behind him with the update. “Gillian, Talia, and Pat went into Middleton this morning. Gillian called in three minutes ago that she and Talia were being chased back to Segue by wraiths. Helicopter also in pursuit. Wraiths got Pat—”
Custo turned abruptly to look at Adam, his expression a mask of disbelief and pain.
Adam had no time for that. “Has Spencer checked in?”
“Not yet.” Custo coded out the exit and pushed open the heavy steel door.
Adam ducked his head out. The telltale whirring chop of a helicopter cut the sky above Segue. He craned to get a better look. It was a combat helicopter, slim, mottled green-gray, and already lowering to drop a load of men on the west lawn. A spark of reflected light drew Adam’s eyes to the trees. Someone moving in there, too. Along the road.
Blocking the road. Penning Segue in.
“Slow down, Talia!” Gillian screamed into Adam’s ear. “You’re going to hit them!”
“Hit them!” Adam shouted into the mouthpiece. He didn’t care who, as long as Talia and Gillian got back to Segue.
The din of the helicopter drowned out the voices in Adam’s ear.
“Repeat,” he yelled into the phone.
The Ferrari careened out of the trees, a vivid streak of crimson against dense green. The windshield was cracked in webbed impact lines. A man gripped the hood. His body swayed and dangled as he held on to the car with his fingers. Heroes might do that in movies, but in the real world, only a wraith would have the necessary strength.
“To the building! The rear doors!” Gillian yelled in Adam’s ear. He could just make out the silhouettes of the women in the front seats of the car.
Custo crouched on the landing beside him. “I can take the wraith on the hood.”
“Let them get closer. Besides, we’ve got company from the west.”
Custo pivoted suddenly and shot at an oblique angle toward the west corner of the building. Warning shots with a loud report to keep the helicopter’s foot soldiers at bay.
Something about the way the men moved bothered Adam. They humped across the grass in camouflage green, armored, signaling with sharp, spare gestures. They were human. What was a human military force doing striking against Segue? There must be a terrible mistake.
“Where the hell is Spencer?” Custo growled, sighting down the barrel of his gun.
Good question. Spencer better damn well be figuring out why the army had decided to attack a civilian research facility. Someone was going to answer for this, that was for damn sure.
Pressure mounted in Adam’s chest as the car neared. “Right up to the door,” Adam commanded Gillian.
“They’ll shoot us!”
“If they haven’t shot at the car by now, they’re not going to. Tell Talia to pull up to the entrance. Both of you get out of the car on the right side. Do not hesitate.”
Adam raised his own gun, finger light on the trigger.
The red sports car skimmed the earth like fire on a wick, taking the turn to Segue with controlled precision. Talia, accustomed to deep terror, obviously knew that survival depended on clear thinking and decisive action. She was steady—and that’s all Adam needed.
A large SUV, lumbering in comparison, cleared the tree line in pursuit, but too far back to be an immediate threat.
As the Ferrari approached the back lot, Adam aimed at the wraith gripping the hood and fired.
“What are you doing? You’re going to kill us!” Gillian shrieked into the phone. Adam could now see her mouth the words he heard in his earpiece. Talia’s face was white, eyes fixed unblinking on the building. Keep it steady, sweetheart.
Adam fired again. He zeroed in on the wraith’s head, bobbing at the base of the windshield, and shot.
The wraith jerked and slid down the hood. Its legs caught under the sports car’s road grip, and the wheels churned the monster behind the vehicle. The body bounced once, and then lay broken on the pavement.
The car veered briefly, recovering from the sudden lurch under the carriage, and then sped to the door.
Talia overshot the entrance. Gillian had her door open and was flinging herself toward Adam before the vehicle came to a stop. The tires left black trails on a sickening collision course with the building. Adam caught Gillian’s arms and pulled her to safety as Custo at his low left discharged another volley. Talia clambered out next, sneakers, then jean-clad legs, emerging in a clumsy climb over the interior leather and out the passenger door.
Adam’s heart stopped beating as the rest of Talia’s body emerged, white-blonde hair shining and waving like a here-I-am flag in the wind kicked up by the idling helicopter overhead.
He grabbed her arm and yanked her into the hollow he made of his body to shelter her, and together dived for the door. They fell on the floor inside, and he hit his head on the wall with a crack he heard but didn’t feel. Custo backed in behind them, gun raised, and shut and secured the door.
Gillian sobbed in a ball on the floor in the corridor, mascara running black trails down her cheeks. Talia struggled to stand, attempting to disengage herself from Adam’s weight.
“Are you okay?” Adam tightened his grip on her waist and held on to her a bit longer. He’d yet to see her face, yet to see how all of this was affecting her. He struggled to kneel, his hands on her body, gripping her arms to turn her to face him, then releasing to nudge her chin up to the light.
She faced him, but her gaze stayed resolutely down. He ducked into her line of sight, to force her to see him. Her eyes were dry and clear. And desolate.
“I was going to run away,” she said, her voice oddly distant. “A wraith caught me and Patty saved me. She traded herself for me. She kissed the monster on its mouth.” Her gaze lowered and slid away from him. Ashamed.
Oh, sweet Jesus. Aunt Pat.
Adam’s grip tightened on Talia’s arms. He gave her a hard shake. “Are you done with running, hiding, and all that shit now?”
“I’m here,” she said hollowly. “Tell me what to do.”
Adam knew that if he asked her right then to walk out of the building and give herself up to the wraiths, she would. Any secrets she had, she’d spill. Her life wasn’t hers now. It belonged to Pat, just as his belonged to his lost family.
Yet the blame wasn’t all Talia’s, not remotely. He should have anticipated something like this and prevented it. Hadn’t he counseled Pat just last night to protect Talia? And hadn’t he sent the women into town without guards to look after them? A million things he should have done, all too late.
“Move,” Adam said. He took Talia by the elbow, and she followed without comment.
“Put me down,” Gillian cried from behind him. Custo must have had to carry her.
Adam tapped in his code at the stairs and the four descended onto the lab floor. Frightened staff members were milling around in front of his office. Decidedly not where they were supposed to be. Restless anxiety riddled their mutterings and movements.
“Ah, shit,” Armand said when he took in the guns and running mascara. “I knew I shouldn’t have taken this damn job—”
“Don’t bitch about it now,” someone murmured.
“Is he out?” Jim asked. He, meaning Jacob.
“No, Jacob is secure,” Adam announced to the group. “Let’s just all stay calm so that Custo and I can assess the situation and give you accurate information.”
“Wraiths got Patty in Middleton,” Gillian blurted. “And Talia’s some kind of freak like Jacob. She let the wraith
s have Patty.”
Talia stood apart from the group at the wall, chin only high enough to take whatever the crowd had to dish out. Adam flicked a glance at Custo, and Custo moved to stand next to her. There was no mistaking the meaning—anyone who wanted to touch Talia would have to get through him first.
Adam rounded on Gillian. “Where were you when all this was happening? Why didn’t you help? Fact is, Talia saved your life back there. When you get your head on straight, you’ll be thanking her.”
Gillian deteriorated into harsh sobs, and he continued, addressing the group. “We are not going to get through this if we are fighting among ourselves. We need to stay calm and work together. Armand—I need a head count. There are supposed to be seventeen on the premises today.” Adam thought of Patty and corrected himself. “Sixteen.”
Adam took a deep breath and focused. He had contingency plans, procedures drilled in advance. His mind reviewed the steps ahead: The goal, of course, was to get everyone to safety. Grab the survival packs, guns, and ammo. Hit the underground tunnel to emerge in the woods. Four armored all-terrain vehicles would be waiting, were always waiting. Then disperse, each in a different direction. With any luck, his people would make it to any of the six Segue substations within a five-hour driving distance. He would coordinate from there, hopefully with some intelligence to work from.
“Thirteen,” Armand answered. Adam did a mental count—minus the guards with Jacob, and the absent Spencer, all were accounted for.
No time to waste—even now the forces outside could be attempting to penetrate the building. He headed to the weapons-storage room two doors down from his office and tapped his code into the pad. The door opened soundlessly.
The sight of the interior was an electric shock to Adam’s body.
The room was empty, shelves bare of everything except paper and plastic debris.
His nerves burned while his mind blanked, trying to assimilate this new information. Only three people had this particular code: himself, Custo, and—
Dark and Dangerous: Six-in-One Hot Paranormal Romances Page 72
