by Sue Duff
Jaered took a generous gulp. “You’re sure the Heir doesn’t have your power?”
“He can’t, otherwise, why would they have called me in to help?”
“Lie low here for a couple of days.” Jaered cradled the beer under his arm and pulled a wad of bills from the bottom of the pack. He tossed them on the kitchen table. “When you’re sure the coast is clear, get as far away as you can before the Pur track you down. I have to go.”
Vael spurt beer. “I’m sticking with you.”
“You can’t, Vael. What I’m in the middle of, it’s too dangerous.”
“I want in, all the way.”
Jaered turned to go, but Vael was as good as a wall. “You’re a lost puppy looking for a home,” Jaered snapped. “I’m not the master you want, believe me.”
“After this, my dad won’t stop hunting me down. He’ll toss me in a Pur prison, or worse,” Vael said. “Sticking with you is the only option I have left. What part of that don’t you get?”
“Friends don’t use you for your talents and then desert you. Hell, I’ve murdered people closer to me,” Jaered said.
Vael snorted. “You’re not a murderer, Jaered.”
He drove his fist through the wall. The jarring pain rippled through both injured shoulders. Pain was all Jaered knew, the only thing left to him in the world. “People around me end up dead, Vael. Don’t be one of them.”
“After this afternoon, you owe me.” Vael leaned against the door. “I’m one favor ahead, and it’s a big one.”
Jaered stepped away and concentrated on steadying the throb in his neck. He still had a job to do. “I have a loose end to take care of,” Jaered said. “Then I have to meet about a package. If you’re still here when I get back, we’ll talk.”
Vael scrutinized Jaered closely, then stepped away from the door. Jaered paused with his hand on the knob. “You don’t know what you’re getting into. If I bring you into this, there won’t ever be the option of getting out.”
“It’s about saving the world, you said so yourself.”
“But you won’t like the means we’re taking to get there.” Jaered shyfted.
Jaered reappeared in the bushes at the edge of Donovan’s backyard. The last of the sun’s rays set at the horizon and the welcoming shadows grew plentiful. A fine mist blanketed the lawn.
From the direction of the garage, a man’s laugh coincided with a child’s giggles. They emerged from the side door. The child perched on Patrick’s shoulders as he walked toward the short rock wall that separated the back lawn from the steep slope of the hill.
“More rocks,” the boy said, hanging on to Patrick’s ears.
“As if we don’t have enough already.” He tilted his face up toward the boy. “Your mom won’t be able to get the car out of the garage if we put any more in there.”
“Pleeeze.” The child giggled and kicked.
“Ouch, all right already.” Patrick stopped at the wall and set the child down on the lawn. He ran, trailing giggles behind him.
Movement. Rayne hurried toward them.
A slew of curses were buried in Jaered’s shoulder. He’d counted on a couple of them trying to free the Heir at the front of the house while the rest focused on distracting the other women. If these two were here, where was the Heir? Where were the others?
“Did you find Ian?” Patrick kicked a ball.
It landed a yard from where Jaered hid in the bushes. The child ran toward him.
The boy reached for the ball but his shoe got there first. The toy rolled inches from Jaered’s boot at the base of the bush.
Patrick had his back turned, talking to Rayne. Jaered leapt from the foliage. The child took one look at Jaered, and let out a shriek. Jaered grabbed him but the boy fought back. A punch from his tiny fist found Jaered’s injured shoulder. Splintering pain erupted. “Ugh!” His grip on the child weakened.
“Put me down.” The boy kicked and thrashed.
Jaered ignited his core, but he couldn’t shyft. His chest was numb.
“Bryant!” Rayne ran toward them. The remote was in her grasp.
“I’m taking the child. Don’t try and stop me,” Jaered warned. He eyed the remote. “Turn it off!”
“Let him go!” She reached for Bryant.
Jaered took a step back. “Are you sure you want to do that?”
She froze. “Don’t . . . he’s just a baby.”
Jaered hesitated. He turned from the woe in her crystal-blue eyes before he lost his nerve altogether. Patrick tackled him from behind. His legs buckled. The child broke free and dashed through the open door into the garage.
Patrick straddled Jaered and held down his arms. He had no more fight in him. His shoulders were dead in the water. Jaered dropped his head back in defeat.
“I’ve got this,” Rayne said, standing guard over Jaered with the remote in her hand and fury burning in her eyes. Patrick took off after Bryant. “Ever since Oregon, I thought you were a Pur. Ian’s guardian angel.” Her hand sagged. “Mine—” It was more than disappointment that cut off her words. Pain flushed her anger. He wasn’t who she wanted him to be, who she needed him to be. “Who are you working with? You owe me that much.”
“A rebel force fighting to stop Aeros.” He searched her eyes for the slimmest of signs that she believed him. Her face scrunched, as if her emotions and thoughts were jockeying for dominance. “If Aeros finds out that I’m helping them, I’m a dead man and Earth, everything you know and care about, won’t be far behind.”
“I’ve had it with your secrets. You ask too much!” she cried. “How can I trust you after everything you’ve done? What you’re about to do?”
“You trusted me with the Heir’s life in Oregon.” Jaered got to his feet. “You didn’t expose me the night of the party.” He took a step back, then another. “I’m begging you to trust me, one last time.” At her hesitation, he took off for the garage and locked the side door a second ahead of her.
He tuned out her pounding from the other side and listened. Women’s voices joined the ruckus at the door. “What’s wrong? Where’s Patrick and Bryant?”
Could this get any more fucked up? Jaered thought. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the dim light. In spite of its size, there was very little stored inside the space. Not much lent itself to potential hiding places. Three cars sat side-by-side in the center, each with their own separate garage door. An extended workbench covered the far wall. Its cabinets were the perfect size to hide the child, but not Patrick. Jaered paused next to a Mercedes.
A child’s whimper—click—came from the SUV at the opposite side of the garage.
He crouched and snaked his way around and between the vehicles. He tried the driver’s side latch. It gave, and he slipped behind the wheel. He shut the door and hit the vehicle’s master door lock, pulled out his pocketknife and fell to one side. When he found the necessary wires from under the dash, he made a decision. “Feel free to exit the car in the next two seconds, Langtree, but the boy stays.”
Silence. Jaered swiped the two sliced wires and a spark sizzled. The engine turned over. He twisted them together, then pushed up with a groan when his shoulder reminded him who was in charge. He shifted into neutral, pressed down on the brake and stomped on the accelerator. The engine revved up to a deafening pitch. “Last chance!” Jaered yelled.
“I’m not leaving him.” Movement in the rearview mirror. Patrick rose from the rear bed of the SUV with his arms around the boy.
“Then get in the middle seat and strap both of you in tight.” Jaered winced when he threw his arm over the bucket seat. “And hold on.”
Patrick did as ordered. “Why are you doing this?”
“For the greater good,” Jaered roared over the engine noise. The car lurched before it sped backward on squealing tires. A jarring impact. Bent, strained metal. Jaered threw the car in drive and sped forward. The particleboard cabinets collapsed under the front grill. Assorted tools rained onto the SUV’s hood. He shi
fted into reverse and slammed on the accelerator. The impact ripped the garage door off its hinges. The vehicle skidded sideways, smashing into trash cans. Two cars blocked the driveway.
Jaered pumped the brake and controlled the slide. The top-heavy vehicle skidded to a stop inches from the parked cars. He spun the steering wheel in one hand while shifting with the other. Shouts from the backyard. A woman screamed.
The boy moaned and clutched his chest in the backseat. The Heir appeared on the back patio. He leaned heavily on the railing.
“You’re trapped,” Patrick said.
Jaered swerved off the driveway and into the backyard, cutting a path across the expansive lawn. It would be tight. He fought to remember the yard at the far side of the mansion. Was it wide enough?
The boy reeled back and screamed. Patrick held him tight. “Stop, you’re hurting him.”
“Not me.” The car sped past alongside the patio deck. Jaered rolled down the driver’s side window and swerved the vehicle within inches of the steps. The Heir yelped and tumbled down the steps onto the lawn. He rolled onto his side. His face contorted with pain but turned a hateful glare at Jaered.
Jaered gave the Heir a smug grin and a two-finger salute. He twisted the wheel and headed for the open side yard. The tires spewed chunks of turf and mud when Jaered slammed the accelerator into the floor. The SUV’s back end fishtailed across the lawn before correcting.
A tickle deep in his chest. Jaered headed for the low, stacked rock wall at the opposite end of the estate.
From the edge of the elevated patio, Tara tossed folding chairs onto the lawn, directly in the car’s path. They were mowed down by the SUV, but the rear tire sent one sailing toward Rayne. It slammed into her and knocked her to the ground. The remote flew out of her grasp. Jaered pulled his eyes from the rearview mirror in time to see a long tablecloth flying toward him. It swept across the windshield like a curtain.
Blinded, Jaered let up on the accelerator. A jolt. The SUV smashed through the low rock wall and soared into the air, rising ever higher above the steep slope. The nose of the car tilted downward.
{58}
The Curse lifted. Ian bolted to his feet and ran for the opening in the wall.
“Who was that driving the car?” JoAnna shouted as she ran toward Ian.
“Where’s Bryant? They’re not here!” Carlene screamed from the wrecked garage.
“Oh dear god.” JoAnna’s steps slowed. Tell me they weren’t inside . . .”
Ian peered over the wall. The SUV had left the hill airborne, landed upright a distance down the slope, and gouged a path in the shrubs before slamming into a cluster of small boulders. From what Ian could tell, it somersaulted over the boulders and came to rest on its roof.
“Are they all right?” JoAnna asked. “I can’t see a thing in the dark.”
Ian vaulted over the low rock wall. The hill was steeper than he’d judged, but he managed to stay on his feet with dirt and rocks carrying him along. He reached the wreck and grasped the bumper to stop his slide.
The front and side airbags had deployed. Ian smashed out what was left of the rear passenger window and pushed the bag out of the way. A quick glance confirmed what he had hoped and prayed since the moment the car burst through the wall.
The jam’s battery had died. The vehicle was empty.
The lawn and hillside were ablaze in floodlights and chaos. The local police were in a heated battle with the recently ar-rived FBI who were claiming that a kidnapped child gave them jurisdiction. Ian returned to the ambulance and leaned against the open door while the paramedic treated Rayne.
“I really think it’s broken,” the paramedic said, slipping her bound forearm into a sling. “Let me take you to the hospital.”
“I’m not going anywhere until I find out what’s happened to my friends,” she said in a tone that snapped off further ar-gument.
The paramedic grabbed a red bag and turned to Ian. “I’ll be back. Talk some sense into her.”
“As if that’s possible,” Ian said.
The second the paramedic was out of earshot, Rayne sniffed and her hand pressed against her lips. Whatever held her together threatened to crumble. He leaned against the open door, weakened further by his failure to protect any of them.
“Why?” he said on rising anger that had nothing to do with her, and yet, everything.
“I was trying to help. He was getting away.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he said and stared at her, reluc-tant to press further, fearful of what he’d find.
A tear moistened her cheek. “As far as I know, Jaered’s been near, for weeks, maybe longer.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“He swore me to secrecy,” she whispered. “It was his price for saving your life.”
“What are you talking about? When?”
“On the cliff, overlooking QualSton. You were dying, I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t touch you.”
Galen had questioned how Ian had been able to make it home. His injuries were too severe for such an unprecedented shyft, yet somehow he’d made it. At the time, Ian had no ex-planation for what he couldn’t remember. “He would have been trapped in the northern vortex building.”
“I don’t know how he does what he does. He appeared that day on the cliff and saved your life. I didn’t see him again until the night of the party. When Patrick and I stepped into the conference room.”
“And never said anything.” Was omission the same as a lie? Ian’s swallow lodged in his throat, cutting off a wail of torment. “You’ve protected him. Why?”
“Until now, I thought he was an ally.”
“He helped Donovan—”
“We don’t know that for certain,” she said.
“—probably Ning,” Ian added. “He was at the zoo!” She stilled, her heart stopped dead in her chest. Ian went to grab her shoulders, but pulled back at the last second. His hands balled into tight fists. “You knew he was there.”
“He discovered Ning was coming after me.” Rayne turned and grabbed her jacket from the back of the ambulance. “He came to help, in spite of being seriously injured.”
“How can he possibly justify kidnapping Bryant and Pat-rick?”
She closed her eyes and shook her head.
“If there’s anything you know, something that would lead to where he might have taken them—”
“He told me that he wasn’t born on Earth. How can that be?”
“I think he’s from Thrae,” Ian said. It was the only expla-nation for not having a corona.
“Where’s Thrae?” Rayne asked.
“It’s Earth’s mirror universe. Shyftors can get there, but they need a powerful vortex stream or field. Thrae is forbidden territory. Crossing dimensions, parashyfting, is punishable by death.”
Rayne slid off the back of the ambulance and stood on wobbly legs. “You have no way to follow them?” she asked with genuine concern.
“They could be anywhere in the world by now,” he said. Or beyond, Ian realized. Earth was vast enough. If Jaered moved between dimensions, Bryant and Patrick could be lost to them forever.
Saxon lurked behind the tree line at the edge of the forest. Tara stepped out onto the office patio a few feet away.
How is she? Tara channeled to Ian.
Broken forearm, scrapes and bruises. He watched Rayne struggle to put her jacket on. Even now after everything, it pained him that he couldn’t do it for her. Confused.
Don’t be too quick to judge, Ian. Withholding knowledge from loved ones is never easy, especially when it’s done in the name of good, Tara channeled.
Ian’s thoughts reached out to Saxon, combing the grounds for any clues. No response. The wolf had nothing to share. If the safe contents had been Jaered’s primary objective, why come back for the child? Did he know about Bryant? Ian fingered the CD case in his jacket pocket. He’d chosen not to reveal the miniscule victory to Marcus. The Drion had left for Germany. He’d cal
led an emergency meeting with the Syndrion. If Ian was honest, Rayne wasn’t the only one guilty of withholding key information.
Ian and Rayne found the others on the back patio. Carlene sat in a daze and appeared oblivious to the swarm of bodies that invaded her house. JoAnna stood watch as agents scurried nearby with indifference to the woman’s pain, focused on their assigned roles.
“We won’t know what’s really going on until they make contact,” an FBI agent said, walking up the steps. “But until the kidnappers make the next move, all we can do is wait.”
There was a haggard look about Patrick’s mother as she hugged herself, staring toward the wrecked wall, into the darkness. Her fingers tapped against her arms, as if her thoughts were racing under the weary exterior. Ian was at a loss for how to comfort JoAnna. It was his fault that her son had been put in harm’s way.
{59}
Jaered watched Patrick through the cracked window in the abandoned office. The man’s wrists were bright pink and chafed from fighting the handcuffs. Patrick’s face drooped with defeat while his head rested back against the dented metal file cabinet. Jaered entered and shut the door. He turned back and glanced through the cracked window to guarantee Cyphir hadn’t followed.
Patrick came alive and tried to stand, but didn’t get far. Jaered had handcuffed him to one of the lower, exposed pipes in the room.
“Where’s Bryant?” Patrick hissed. “What have you done to him?”
Jaered dropped to one knee in front of him, but kept an arm’s distance between them. “I need you to listen with an open mind to what I’m going to tell you.”
“Fuck you,” Patrick slumped to the office floor. “Why would I believe anything you tell me?”
Time was running out. Jaered’s rendezvous was within the hour. “The Pur believe that the Heir is Earth’s savior. The Primary instilled that belief for—” Jaered caught himself and paused. “—a very long time.”
