Red Night ((Book 1) Timewalker Chronicles)

by Michele Callahan

  Great. She hadn’t counted on the big guy. He probably outweighed her by a hundred pounds. Hell. There’d be no second chances with him. But there was no going back.

  Alexa flowed into the corner, silent as the fog. She tried not to move, or breathe, as the doors closed and the big machine started to fall. The weight of her gun on her ankle was strangely comforting. Assuming she had time to reach for it.

  As soon as the elevator was moving, the Colonel reached down to adjust something on his belt and then pulled an earpiece out of his left ear. “You got him?”

  “Yes, sir.” The big man’s deep voice resonated in the confined space and made her feel like the bones of her skull could rattle right off her neck. Without question, he was the most frightening man she’d ever seen. The bastard had to be six-five, if he was an inch.

  “Good. Does he have the virus with him?” The Colonel’s left eyelid twitched a few inches from the big guy’s shoulder.

  “Yes, sir.” Alexa wanted to cry with relief.

  “No one else saw him?”

  “No, sir. Caught him on the north service elevator.”

  Some of the starch seemed to leave the Colonel’s shorts. Shoulders slumped in weariness beneath his tuxedo jacket, he ran a hand through his short gray hair with obvious relief. “I won’t forget this, Patrick.”

  “I’m counting on it, sir.” The Colonel reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a heavy envelope. Alexa assumed it was full of cash. The envelope disappeared from view in the giant’s hands. He handed the Colonel a small key in return.

  Hah! Her instincts about the Colonel were right. They had him! They had the virus! All she had to do was follow them straight to Matthew Kline and finish it. This was it. The end of the road. Her attention darted between the Colonel’s aging face, lined with resignation, and the mammoth size body of the brute in black next to him.

  She sent a silent prayer to the Lord thanking Him for the invention of gunpowder and bullets that evened her odds against the big brute, and to ask for a wee little bit of help. This was going to be one wild ride.

  * * * * *

  Luke felt her leave. The muscles in his back and neck clenched so tightly he thought they would explode. Damn her. Where the hell was she going?

  To save the world.

  “Shit.” Hurrying to the elevators, he counted the seconds until the yawning entrance beckoned him to follow her. He darted in and pushed every single damn button on the panel. Twenty floors. There’d be no way to know which floor she was on until the door opened. Grateful for the link between them burned into his chest, he couldn’t help wishing the old man had fine-tuned the damn thing a little better. All he could feel was her drifting farther away. His gut told him she was in over her head. Didn’t need to be a rocket scientist to figure that one out.

  He pulled his handgun from his ankle holster, made sure a bullet was in the chamber, and let the quiet dip of the elevator beneath his feet calm him. His little lady acted like she was indestructible. She was going to save the world. All right. Fine. He was going to help her whether she like it or not. Damn stubborn woman. The grudging respect he felt for her courage didn’t ease the painful grip of the giant fist squeezing the hell out of his heart.

  First stop. Twentieth floor. The doors slid silently open and he waited for the flash of heat her presence would bring to his chest. Silence. Darkness. Cold.

  Nothing.

  The doors slid closed and he clenched his teeth. One down, nineteen to go. He willed the damn elevator to hurry. “Hang on, angel. I’m coming.”

  Chapter Eight

  The Colonel was breaking plenty of rules to protect Matthew Kline. He slinked through the dark hallways of the building like a snake with his private one-man army, while the rest of his team continued to search for Kline in ignorance. Taking out two men would be a hell of a lot easier than thirty, but history was working against her. This had all happened before. If Matthew Kline was trapped down here with daddy, how did the virus get to the party?

  Something must go wrong with the Colonel’s plan. She had to figure out what before it happened again. Maybe she should just shoot them all the first chance she got, grab the case, and run like the devil was chasing her. Her blood chilled to cold jelly in her veins. She didn’t want to kill anyone. But she was afraid she wouldn’t have a choice. The Colonel wasn’t going to let her just waltz in there and bury a few bullets in his precious son.

  The hair on her arms rose in alarm and a cold shiver raced over her skin like Death was introducing himself a little early. The Colonel was going to be a problem.

  She followed the Colonel and Patrick as quickly as her soft leather slippers allowed. The floor was full of deserted offices. A few scattered lights provided minimal illumination, which suited her just fine. Less light meant she’d need less energy to control it. The shadows were on her side.

  “Who’s he?” Anger laced the Colonel’s words when he saw another man in black standing guard in front of a closed office door. He was smaller than Patrick, dark skin and hair. Thin, wiry frame and face. Utter and absolute blankness stared out from behind his dark eyes. No conscience. No soul. Even more terrifying than Patrick. The devil incarnate handed the Colonel a set of keys, but didn’t deign to answer.

  “He’s with me.” Alexa figured Patrick wasn’t willing to argue about it. The Colonel must have thought the same. Hell. Three of them now. Plus Kline. Luck wasn’t playing fair.

  “Wait by the elevators and make sure none of my boys spot you.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Alexa held her breath as Brute and Brute Jr. passed within two feet of her and kept walking around the corner. The scary men in black were gone. Well, gone enough. She could find the stairs. Luck was playing nice after all.

  The Colonel stood alone in the hallway, his head slumped, his entire focus on the keys jingling in his hand. He looked sad. Tired. Worn to the bone by life.

  If he hadn’t been a schemer and a liar, if he hadn’t been responsible for the annihilation of an entire planet, she might have felt sorry for him. Instead, she reached for her gun with her right hand and one of her knives with her left. She’d try to avoid killing them. The only thing she needed was the little silver case. The Colonel and his personal problems wouldn’t kill the world. But a mere fifty feet stood between her and a life of happily-ever-after with Luke. She’d be damned if she’d get this close and fail.

  The Colonel opened the door and walked into the room, and out of sight. Sprinting for the large door, which was slowly swinging closed, she managed to wedge it open a couple of inches with her foot. She should be able to slide into the room unnoticed. Unless the latch clicked when the door closed. Then she would have a problem.

  Shimmying sideways through as small an opening as possible she let the door slide home behind her.

  Matthew Kline sat, both wrists handcuffed to his sides in a large leather-backed chair. His jeans and T-shirt were wrinkled and stained. Long brown hair hung, greasy and limp, to his shoulders. Hazel eyes spit hatred at the old man slumped in the chair across from him. And there, in the center of an otherwise bare desktop, sat the silver case.

  “What am I going to do with you, boy?”

  Matthew struggled in vain against the handcuffs. “Let me go.”

  “Do you know how much trouble you’ve caused? This isn’t like picking pockets or stealing cars! You’re carrying around deadly pathogens that were stolen from a Four Lab.” The Colonel leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Killing Trent was stupid, son. Taking the virus was worse. Every senator on committee is breathing fire down my neck. Those boys don’t screw around. I don’t think I can protect you this time.”

  “Go to hell. I never asked for your help. Just leave me the fuck alone.”

  “What are you doing here? How the hell did you get near Trent?”

  Insanity blazed like deadly laser beams from Matthew’s eyes. Alexa was glad he couldn’t see her. “Everyone has a price.”

/>   ‘Damn it, Matt.”

  “You can’t lock people up, play God with their lives. You think you’re so much better than me.” The handcuffs jerked and strained as Matthew renewed his struggle against the arms of the chair. “The whole fucking world wants to lock me away and forget I exist.”

  “How’d you get out? Why wasn’t I notified?” An evil sneer crossed Matthew’s face in response. Alexa inched closer to the desk, the bug. This kid was nuts.

  “Mom signed me out.”

  “That bitch.” Alexa barely heard the whispered curse, but Matthew shifted forward and threw his weight onto his feet. The chair, still strapped to him, rose off the floor until the chair legs stuck out. He stood like a man who bore the weight of the world on his back, and was losing his footing. Spittle sprayed the desktop with every hoarse word Matthew shouted.

  “You’d leave me locked in that fucking hospital forever. Mom never should’ve married you. You’re not my father!”

  The Colonel’s shaking hand wrapped around the raised black handle of the silver case. “Not anymore.”

  Screaming his rage, Matthew bent forward until he lifted the chair legs above desk level. He swung his whole body around to strike his father with the base. A black wheel struck the Colonel’s hand and the silver case flew. It skidded to a stop on the floor against the far wall of the office with a thunk. The wall farthest from Alexa.

  The Colonel raged around the corner of the desk to stop his son. His shoulder slammed into her head. She staggered back in a daze. It hurt like hell.

  “What the…”

  Alexa darted out from beneath his arms just as Matthew swung around in another manic circle, striking out at his father with the chair. He missed. The Colonel was almost on him. Matthew rammed head first, straight into the Colonel’s chest and toppled him to the ground.

  Dropping her dagger, she wrapped her hand around the small case handle like a drowning woman holding onto a lifejacket. Time to leave this wonderful family love fest behind.

  She ran for the door and pulled it open. Patrick blocked her exit. The noise must’ve alerted him. Without a word Patrick shoved her out of his way and barreled into the room. He yanked Matthew, chair and all, off his father. The Colonel thanked him as she ran for the elevators. Then, “Where’s the case?”

  “The woman took it, sir.” Oh, God. He’d seen her. She must have dropped her guard in her panic. Fear pushed her legs to move faster. Her mind was in utter chaos. She couldn’t focus her thoughts enough to bend the light again. They could see her!

  “What woman?” The Colonel’s voice filled the hallway. “Shit. Move! Move!”

  Alexa glanced back over her shoulder in time to see the Colonel’s gun pointed at her. Cradling the deadly case of M-6 to her stomach, she wrapped her left forearm over it like armour. She could die, but the case had to survive. Intact.

  Two bullets whizzed by her head. The Colonel yelled at her. “Stop! Don’t make me shoot you.”

  Not a chance in hell she was letting this case out of her hands. She dashed around the corner toward the elevators with the men hot on her heels. Her birthmark blazed on her chest, a reminder of her destiny. She kept running.

  “Damn it.” The Colonel’s words reached her a second before his third shot seared her left shoulder. Pain sent her staggering against the wall but she held onto the case. Only death would pry it from her fingers now. She reached over blindly and pushed the call button with the butt of her gun, then wrapped her right arm protectively around her cargo. Blood dripped down from her left shoulder, smeared the outside of the silver case, tarnished its perfection.

  How fitting. Little killer bugs. Blood for blood.

  Patrick stalked toward her. Turning, she leaned her right shoulder against the wall between the two elevators for support. She needed Patrick in her sights. Gun raised, the solid wall was all that kept her aim steady, pointed right at him. He stopped. For now. His gaze darted farther down the hallway, then settled on her face. “Come on, bitch. That’s not playing nice.”

  The devil gave her no warning, just shoved the barrel of a gun against the base of her skull. “Drop it.” Patrick’s partner sounded like he could be could yawn as easily as blow her head off.

  Spots swam before her eyes and her ears were ringing. She held onto the gun for all she was worth. “I don’t care about any of this. Just let me go.”

  “Can’t do that, my dear. You have stolen property and I need to take it back.” The Colonel stopped when he reached Patrick’s side. They were about twenty feet away. She was caught like a fish who’d already swallowed the hook. The Colonel held out his hand. “Give me the case.”

  Her skirt was stained red from the steadily running blood. She swayed, then caught herself. The jerk with the gun didn’t shoot her, but no one was coming to save her. No one knew where she was. Luke was right. Some help would be nice. Too bad he wasn’t here to gloat over it.

  The elevator dinged. Her ride was here. Time to save herself.

  Or die.

  Funny how staring death in the face could clear a girl’s head.

  Swaying forward like she was going to faint, she let her arms fall limply to her sides. With a flick of her wrist, she tossed the case toward the opening elevator doors. Relief flooded her when the bugs landed just inside the doors.

  Halfway to the ground she disappeared. She hit hard and rolled onto her back. Her foot connected with the gunman’s left knee, buckling his leg. He fell away from her into the hallway with a curse.

  As fast as she could, she pulled herself forward on her elbows. Every movement jarred her shoulder, shattered her focus so they could see her. Crawl faster! Damn this dress. Legs tangled in the soft folds, for once she actually hated the feminine vanity that now trapped her. Her shoulders just cleared the doors when the weasel’s hand shackled her ankle and pulled her arms out from under her. She landed on her injured shoulder and cried out in pain. Rolling onto her side, she kicked her attacker. Patrick barreled toward her in a dead run.

  A gunshot rang out. Patrick staggered forward dragging one leg. Another shot tore into his opposite hip. He crashed into the unforgiving floor, chest heaving for air.

  Half of Luke’s torso darted out from inside the elevator. He shot the man holding her ankle. She didn’t bother looking back to see if he was dead. Rolling into the elevator, she curled into a protective ball around the case of M-6.

  “Stay down.” Luke crouched beside her. Matthew ran toward them from farther down the hall. Rage etched deep lines in his face. He held the Colonel’s keys in one hand, and Alexa’s abandoned knife in the other. Luke’s gun held the Colonel pinned in place. The old man dropped to one knee and reached for his weapon. Luke fired. The doors slid closed, erasing the Colonel’s stunned face, the hole in his forehead, from her vision. The elevator lurched to life beneath her as Matthew’s scream penetrated the thick elevator doors. The Colonel was dead.

  “Luke…”

  “Just shut-up and don’t move, or I’ll shoot you myself.”

  She laughed. It hurt. “I love you.”

  He shook his head. “Just shut-up, Alexa.” His jacket hit the floor. The elevator doors opened, then closed. They were moving again. He ripped one white sleeve from his arm and tied the material around her bleeding shoulder. “If you ever scare me like that again…”

  Apparently, he couldn’t finish the thought. His words were rough, but his hands were gentle as he helped her sit up and lean back against the elevator’s wall. She stopped trying to talk and just let relief wash over her. They were alive. They had the virus. And as soon as they could get back to the lab, M-6 would be wiped off the face of the Earth.

  Luke spoke into a microphone wrapped around his watchband. “Eleventh floor, Sean. Two mercs and the Colonel shot. Kline’s there, too.”

  Alexa could almost feel the collective force of movement in the building as the complete focus of thirty armed men and women shifted to the eleventh floor. Luke listened, then shook his head. “I
’ll explain later. Just get down there.”

  Stop. Doors open. Closed. Her stomach lurched when they started moving again. “Who’s Sean?”

  “A friend.”

  Silence. Stop. Doors slid open. Doors slid closed. “Where are we going?”

  “I had to push every damn button to try and find you.” His fingertips caressed the hair that had come loose around her face, then tucked the stray strands behind her ear. “Ten floors.” A shudder passed through him. “You’re lucky it wasn’t eleven. I wouldn’t’ve made it in time.”

  “How did you find me?”

  With shaking fingers he pulled her hand to rest against the mark on his chest. Her mind calmed. The pull between her heart and his, the binding force, stole her breath for a moment. Talk about being branded. “Thanks.”

  “Anytime.” The doors slid open behind Luke. He pulled her to her feet and stepped out onto the main floor. “Come on, angel. Let’s get out of here.”

  “How sweet.” Matthew Kline was waiting for them, panting from his sprint down the stairwell. “I’ll take that.” He wrenched the case from Alexa’s hand. The gun he held to Luke’s head made sure neither of them protested. Matt’s maniacal gaze rested on her for a moment, then dismissed her as unimportant. “You can go.”

  Wrenching Luke’s arm behind his back with a jerk he shoved him back into the elevator. “You’re going upstairs with me. We’re going to finish this.”

  No time to think. Luke watched her raise her skirt. Acceptance flashed in his eyes. He was giving her permission to miss. It made her love him more.

  “Matthew!” Alexa’s challenge rang through the air.

  Matthew Kline looked up an instant before her knife buried itself in his eye socket. Never mess with a woman who knows how to throw knives.

  Luke stepped away and let him fall.

  Alexa threw herself in his arms. Cheek nestled against the heated mark on his chest, she breathed him in. His head rested on top of hers. Comforting hands gently slid up and down her back. “Damn it, woman. What am I going to do with you?”