Fade to Midnight

by Shannon McKenna

  "It may be too late," Marr warned. "I can't guarantee that--"

  "So be it," Kev said. "I can't do anything until tomorrow."

  "I'll try to hold them off until tomorrow." Marr's voice sounded longsuffering. "I need to contact Ava. What time will you be able to--"

  "I'll let you know tomorrow. Don't call. I'll be in touch."

  "Fine." Marr's voice was markedly cooler.

  Kev almost hung up on the guy, but paused, gripped by an odd impulse. "One question," he said. "Why are you doing this?"

  Marr grunted, sourly. "To be honest--"

  "Yes, please be honest."

  "I'm not doing it for you," Marr said. "You're a rude, uncooperative asshole. I'm doing this for Edie, because she asked me to. And because I want to know exactly what we're dealing with, too. Like Parrish does."

  "Ah." Kev listened with all his senses for more.

  "If one hair on Edie's head gets hurt, it's not just Parrish who's going to be after you," Marr threatened. "I'll be coming after you too."

  Ooh. Terrifying prospect. Kev sternly did not permit himself to say anything sarcastic. He'd indulged in enough childish behavior lately.

  "OK," he said. "Fair enough. Tomorrow, then."

  He hung up, and looked at Edie. "Is that guy carrying a torch for you? Did you turn him down, or something?"

  "Good God, no." Edie looked bewildered. "Des Marr's barely ever spoken to me until last night after the banquet. He's ignored me all my life, even back at the Haven. I have no idea why he's suddenly so focused on me. It's weird."

  Kev arranged himself so that his gun arm was free to lunge for the SIG 220, and tucked Edie into the crook of the other arm. "Did you look in the mirror last night before you went to the banquet? He saw you, and he had an epiphany. Can't say as I blame the guy."

  "Please. Spare me. Is it my magical pink evening gown, again? It transformed me into a siren who melts men's brains?"

  The woman still didn't get it. Kev decided not to bother arguing. Time enough to convince her later. "We should call your dad. Let them know you're OK. And tell them about the kidnapping attempt."

  She looked pained. "He'll be hysterical."

  "It's information that his security staff needs," he said, grimly stoic. "For your sister's sake. That's the only reason I'd do it."

  She rubbed her face. "Let me wake up, first. Maybe some coffee."

  "The longer you wait, the harder it will get," he warned. He stroked her hair for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling panels. "You said that Marr did Osterman's cognitive enhancement program, too?"

  "Yes, he was one of Dr. O's favorites. In fact, it was his dad's raving about the massive improvement in Des's grades that gave my dad the idea to sign me up, too."

  Kev dragged her closer. "What did Osterman do to you kids?"

  A frown marred her forehead. "It was different for everyone," she said. "Dr. O's thing was about finding the perfect balance between the negative and positive approaches to releasing latent brain power."

  "Positive and negative," he repeated. "Sounds ominous."

  "It was," she agreed. "The positive techniques were the drugs and the behavioral training, and negative involved the removal of barriers. Inhibitions, complexes, fears, self-defeating beliefs. It boiled down to pseudo-psych motivational lectures, a heavy drug regimen, daily brain training sessions and hand tailored pinpoint electroshock therapy."

  He whistled. "Holy shit. That's scary shit."

  "Oh, yeah. To free us. 'From the chains that bind our brains.' Dr. O's catchphrase. I hear it in my dreams. Or nightmares, I should say."

  Edie stared at the wall, lost in her unpleasant memories.

  Kev gave her a squeeze and nudge. "Hey. Hello? Come out of it."

  She shook herself. "He sure freed something," she murmured.

  "You mean the psychic thing that happens when you draw?" he asked. "You think that's because of what Dr. O did to you?"

  She met his eyes. "I know it was," she said simply. "It started there."

  "What was the effect on the others?"

  Her eyes looked haunted. "Hard to say. There's not many of us left. Except for the success stories, like Des. And the high achievers don't talk about Dr. O in negative terms. I tried once to get in touch with people, do an informal survey of their experiences of the Haven. I got frozen out like you would not believe."

  "So there are non-success stories, too?"

  "There are a lot of non-success stories," she said quietly. "Suicides. Homicides, too. One guy killed his girlfriend, then himself. Another killed his family. There's the drug ODs, the alcoholics. There's some incidence of brain cancer. And the ones in the mental ward. Not a real high percentage, but higher than it statistically should be."

  He was taken aback. "The families never protested? You'd think there would be lawsuits right and left."

  "Dr. O had his ways of protecting himself," she said. "I think he implanted post-hypnotic imperatives, or something like that. Maybe I'm nuts for thinking this, but for years after the Haven, every time I tried to tell my parents what happened there, I got a blinding headache. After a while, I just gave up. They weren't interested, anyway. Not at the time. And the success stories were impressive. Like Des. He's amazing. Only three years older than me, but in a couple years, he'll be running Helix."

  Kev illustrated his opinion of Des Marr's amazing qualities with a succinct hand gesture, and pulled her into his arms, as if he could protect her retroactively. "Wonder what part of Marr's brain got zapped." He could guess, but he'd keep that speculation to himself.

  "Me, too," she admitted. "For me, I think it must have been some natural protective filter. Thank God it's not worse. I only have these episodes when I'm in an alpha state, and I only go into that state when I'm drawing. Or, ah...when I'm having sex with you." She turned pink. "I tune into you then, too. But that's the only exception."

  His cock began to twitch and throb. He bore down on the impulse to roll onto her and take the plunge. Not while she was making halting, painful confessions. "Interesting," he said, his voice strangled.

  "Yes," she agreed. "If that kind of info came at me full bore all the time, I'd be in a padded cell. Or dead. Maybe that's what happened to some of the unsuccessful Haven alums. I just got lucky."

  "Or maybe you were stronger," he suggested.

  She flinched. "I never felt particularly strong. On the contrary."

  "There's all kinds of strength. You're very strong." He nuzzled her shoulder. "Hard to believe all the parents allowed it."

  "The parents didn't know," Edie said. "Dr. O was good at playing us. Making each kid feel crucial to Dr. O's plan for a better world. Don't tell your parents! They'll never understand the new, powerful super-you! Don't distress them with things beyond their comprehension! Only the elect few are capable of undergoing my ultra-secret mind techniques, and so on and so forth. What teenager could resist that?"

  He stared at her. "You did, evidently. You never bought it."

  She snorted. "Nope," she admitted. "He froze my blood, even before he did the electroshock stuff." She stroked her cheek against his chest. "I got the sense that Dr. O really didn't know exactly what he was doing," she said. "He was just fucking around with us. Because he could, just to see what would happen. Calling it science."

  He shook the sickening image away, and sat up, pulling a number up on the phone.

  "Who are you calling now?" she asked.

  "Backup. We're stranded here with no wheels. We need help."

  She tilted up her elvish eyebrow. "From who?"

  He felt the stretch on his facial scars as the grin started to spread. "Our relationship is about to get a big fat status upgrade." He pushed CALL. "Watch out. You're about to meet the Ranieris."

  CHAPTER 21

  Aham and cheddar omelet, English muffins and orange juice plus several cups of coffee at the Char Burger restaurant overlooking the Columbia River went a long way toward restoring Edie's courage. Even so, when she
took Kev's cell and entered her father's number, her belly fluttered as if she were about to jump out of an airplane.

  In a sense, she was. But she'd jump holding hands with the most special, unique, sexy, incredible guy she'd ever dreamed of. She could do this. Self-administered pep talks aside, her finger quivered, not connecting with the button. "Can he track us with this cell phone?"

  "Yeah," Kev said. "There's no GPS tag in it, but they could have the signal triangulated and get a fix on us. I should have turned the thing off last night, I guess, but I had no idea you'd given the number out to anyone until Marr called."

  "Sorry about that," she said. "Giving the number to Des, I mean."

  "No one could have guessed things would get so weird so fast."

  "Brace yourself," she said grimly, and pushed CALL. "They're about to get weirder."

  Her father picked up on the first ring. "Who is this?" he snapped.

  That was a good sign. He was better. "Hey, Dad. It's me."

  "Edith! Where are you?" he barked.

  She hesitated. "I'm fine. How about you? Still in the hospital?"

  "Of course not! How could I stay there when my daughter's been abducted? Where are you? I'll send someone to pick you up right away!"

  Edie stared out the restaurant's huge windows. Stray shafts of sunlight lit the shreds of fog draped across the high, dark mountains' shoulders. Green and gray swirled and spun as she blinked tears out of her eyes. "No, Dad," she said quietly. "Thanks, but I'm fine where I am."

  She could hear the gears grinding as he contemplated his next strategy. "Ronnie needs you, Edie. She cried all night. She's not eating."

  Guilt was a classic, but he'd used it on her before. Betrayed her with it, too. She wouldn't do Ronnie any good once they'd pumped her full of drugs and locked her up. "I need her, too," she said, her voice thick. "You're putting me in an impossible position."

  "I? I'm the one? Oh, for God's sake, Edie! Don't get me started! I cannot believe how self-absorbed you are!"

  That touched off his tirade, but Kev was making a finger slicing over the throat gesture. She forced herself to cut over the stream of angry words. "One moment, Dad. I have to tell you something important before I end this call," she broke in. "About an attempted kidnapping."

  "Attempted? Hah! It seems that he succeeded quite well!"

  "Not Kev," she said. "That's not a kidnapping. That's just me, hanging out with my new boyfriend. Which I have every right to do."

  "It's all in the labeling, then?"

  "Please, Dad, listen to me! Three guys jumped us outside my apartment last night! One of them held a knife to my throat!"

  Her father was silent. "Forgive me for pointing out the obvious," he finally said icily. "But if you hadn't deliberately eluded my security staff, they would have been there to protect you. How many times have I told you about how dangerous that neighborhood is?"

  "Can we put aside the scolding and concentrate, please? They didn't get me, but I wanted you to know about it, because the staff needs to be especially on the alert, to protect Ronnie."

  Dad clicked his tongue in that thoughtful way that never boded well. "A knife to your throat? How on earth did you manage to escape?"

  "Kev saved me," she said. "He fought them. And they ran."

  "I see. Really. A surprise attack, in the dark, from three brutal professional criminals, and he scared them all away singlehandedly? My, my! He must be quite the warrior, hmm?"

  She didn't understand her father's tone. How could he be so sarcastic and cavalier about this? "Yes, in fact, he is!" she said heatedly.

  "Bet he didn't get a scratch, did he? Very impressive."

  "Dad, please. I'm telling the truth. I'm not trying to--"

  "Don't talk to me about truth, Edith. I'm sure you've been carefully coached in everything you say to me."

  "No! I haven't! I was attacked, and it wasn't a mugging! I'm telling you so you can be on the alert! This was a courtesy call, understand?"

  "Courtesy? Hah! God, Edith! You are so innocent, you must be a changeling! You were never in any danger from those attackers! They would have killed him if you had been!" her father yelled. "They would have shot him! How stupid can you be? Don't you see it?"

  "But...but I...but he--"

  "It was staged!" he roared. "This man is playing you! And you are making it so easy for him! I'm sorry if this hurts you, but this is not about you, Edith! It's about what he's trying to do to me! To punish me for what he perceives are my crimes! Whether I'm guilty or not, I don't know and frankly, I no longer care. Do not let yourself be used in this way! It is so painful for me to watch!"

  "Dad, stop." He had it wrong. He hadn't been there. He couldn't know.

  "I am embarrassed for you!" Charles Parrish raged on. "I can imagine your gratitude, hmm? What a bonding moment it must have been. It makes me nauseous just to think of it."

  "Then don't think of it," she said.

  "Ah. So that's how it is. I'll add that to the long list of things I can't bear to think about. Like my firstborn child, trying to poison me."

  Edie was speechless. She finally forced air through her vocal apparatus, and squeaked, "What? What are you talking about?"

  "You heard me, Edith. The toxicology tests aren't back yet, but Paul searched your apartment this morning. He found two vials of something called...Tamlix, I think it was? God knows where you got a designer poison like that. I certainly don't want to. Dr. Katz did some research. He tells me the effects of a small dose are consistent with my symptoms last night. The amount that you splashed in my face would have sufficed. And a larger dose would have stopped my heart."

  She shook her head, as if he could see her. "I would never--"

  "I know you're angry with me, Edith. But I did not know how angry. I would never have thought you were angry enough to kill."

  "B-b-but I wasn't!" she stammered. "I haven't! I would never--"

  "I would never press charges. I hope you know that. Particularly since you tried to stop me last night. I suppose I owe my life to that crisis of conscience."

  "No! Dad, I--"

  "All I want is for you to get the help you need. For you to be safe and well, Edith. And away from that...that person. I know you would only do such a horrible thing if someone else put you up to it."

  She swallowed back the desperate, bleating denials. He couldn't hear them. "Good-bye, Daddy," she whispered. "I'm so sorry that you believe this of me. It's not true. Please tell Ronnie that I love her."

  She let her arm drop to the table, and stared at the phone, still issuing a tinny squawking of frantic orders. She pushed the END button, and made it stop. Would that it were always that simple.

  Kev took the phone from her without a word, and turned it off. Then he grabbed her hand, and held it. She pressed her other hand against her shaking mouth, as if her face were about to fall off.

  "He thinks I was the one who poisoned him last night," she whispered. "They found vials of poison in my apartment this morning."

  "Oh, shit," Kev said quietly. "That's bad."

  "And the kidnapping? He says you staged it," she said. "Those guys, last night. To lure me into your wicked trap, don't you know."

  His hand tightened around hers. "I would die before I would deliberately hurt or scare you," he said. "You know that, right?"

  The sincerity radiating from him was impossible to fake to her, with her kinky talents. But it wasn't like she could explain that to her father. "I know," she whispered. "Thank you. For being so truehearted." The phrase was old fashioned, but so was Kev. It fit.

  He kissed her hand again. "This is getting really wierd," he said. "Who would set you up for that? The kidnappers? And why? Why would they give a fuck about framing you to kill your dad? His death would only complicate their ransom negotiations. It doesn't make sense."

  She shook her head, hiding her face in her hands.

  "I can see why he thinks the kidnapping was staged, though," Kev mused. "I don't get it either
."

  "Well, I'm just grateful for it," she flared. "So stop saying what a big head scratcher it is that they didn't blow your brains out, because I don't want to hear it again! Be grateful, OK?"

  "OK." His smile was wary, uncertain. "Sure, I'm grateful. I don't think I've ever enjoyed being alive so much." He turned her hand over, kissed her palm. "I want it to go on and on. Forever."

  She sniffed back tears, and stared out at the river. Trying to process it. Her father thought she'd tried to murder him.

  "Funny," he murmured. "About me staging the kidnapping."

  "Funny?" She snorted. "Oh, yeah. It's just a big laugh riot."

  "No, about me luring you into my wicked trap. I was doing fine without going to insane lengths like staging a kidnapping." Kev sounded disgruntled. "He thinks I'd have such a godawful time getting a date?"

  His aggrieved tone set her laughing, but the laughter turned to tears. She grabbed a napkin. "He'll never let me see Ronnie again."

  "I'm so sorry, babe," he said. "I don't know how to fix that."

  She shook her head, grateful for him for not offering false encouragement. Some things weren't fixable. They had to be swallowed, and simply endured. She was sorry he'd suffered, but it was good to be with someone who understood that. So much didn't need to be said.

  She flung her head back, lifting her glasses to dab the tears out of her eyes. "We need a plan of action."

  "We've got a couple of options," he said. "I'm still in favor of falling off the grid. It would be hard, but we could do it."

  "Reindeer, emus? Or goats in Crete?" She gave him a wobbly smile. "I can't give up hope of ever seeing Ronnie again. I'm just not ready to do that. I feel like I'm betraying her already. And if we ran, it would make me feel guilty. Even though we've done nothing wrong."

  Kev gazed at her for a moment. "OK. That leaves plan B."

  "Which is?"

  Kev gazed into his coffee, apparently reluctant to go on.

  "Just lay it on me, OK?" she begged. "Don't leave me hanging with the significant silences. I can't stand it. My nerves are shot."