Daniel shot him a hard look. “Is that supposed to be a consolation?”
“It’s not supposed to be anything. I just wasn’t sure you knew.” Or if it would matter.
Serena tapped Blue’s shoulder. “There’s another road ahead. Take it.”
Blue tapped on the brakes. All he saw was a dirt track leading into the desert, but Serena gave no other instructions, and so he pulled onto it. The Humvee bounced and growled. Its headlights cut into a world of rock and brush and cacti. The moon had risen higher; the light glimmered against the mountains.
After several miles, Blue felt yet another tap on his shoulder and Serena said, “Stop the car.”
He did, cutting the lights so that the world swallowed them up in darkness. Serena opened her door and slid out; Blue shared a quick glance with his brother and did the same, taking the gun she had given him and slipping it into the back of his jeans.
The air smelled good and was cooler than in the city. Blue turned in a wide circle and saw a glow against the horizon; Las Vegas beating out the stars.
“Now what?” Daniel asked, his voice dropping to a whisper on the second word. The air was very still; even the crunch of dirt beneath their shoes sounded too loud.
Serena snapped her fingers. Blue felt like doing the same right back at her, but restrained himself and went to see what she wanted. She was still naked, standing at the back of the Humvee, hand pressed on the bandage over her bloodstained shoulder. Fur continued to cover the injured part of her body; her eyes glowed.
“There is equipment in the back of this car,” she told him quietly. “Weapons, water, food. You and your brother need to take as much as you can carry.”
“How far to Iris?”
“The distance is not the issue.” Serena raised her head for a moment, sniffing the air. “The problem is what will happen after we retrieve her. Returning here may not be an option.”
Daniel joined them. Blue opened up the back of the Humvee and found stack after stack of bottled water, along with boxes of PowerBars, trail mix, jerky, and other lightweight, nonperishable foods. Several backpacks had been crammed in the corner, along with piles of folded material that looked like aluminum, but was soft as silk.
“Sleep sacks,” Serena said. Her voice was rough; Blue imagined a slight sway in her posture. “Waterproof, and they can also double as tents. It’s a new fabric, similar to what some militaries use, but more refined.”
“Courtesy of your employers?”
She was silent, which was answer enough.
Daniel and Blue began filling backpacks. Serena opened a crate, revealing guns, grenades, Tasers—even a box of carefully packed syringes.
“Sedatives,” she said.
“Huh.” Daniel chewed his lip. “What did you say you did again?”
Serena’s mouth curved. “I believe that should be self-evident by now.”
“No,” he said, looking her straight in the eye. “It really isn’t. Two years ago you performed in the circus. That’s not the kind of place where you learn how to lob grenades. Or spy. Or … whatever.”
Serena said nothing, simply stared at him. Blue wondered if she was thinking about all the different ways she could kill him or blow him up or stick his head in a toilet. Not too concerned about any of those options, Blue slid into a lightweight mesh holster and began packing on the guns. “We need to go. How far is it, Serena?”
“Four miles. There are motion sensors along the property line. I do not think those will be a problem.”
Blue smiled briefly. “We could still drive in, then.”
“This road narrows into nothing but a footpath for more than a mile. After that, the land levels out into something suitable for vehicles, but ours would never make it that far, and there is no other way in. Do you really wish to risk our only mode of transportation?”
“And you?” Daniel asked. “What about your injury? You were shot.”
“I will manage.” Her eyes glowed, but this time the light trickled down, caressing her throat, her breasts, her sinewy torso and narrow hips. Daniel made a guttural sound, low, sick, but Blue did not look at him, did not tear his gaze from Serena as fur poured through her skin, her body stretching and widening, muscles thickening, joints popping until she went down on all fours—and it happened so fast that all of it became a blur in his mind the moment the light died. In Serena’s place was a leopard, watching them with unnatural eyes.
Yeah. Blue never got tired of seeing that.
Serena padded past them, a slight limp in her gait—nothing else that would indicate a gunshot wound. She stopped just beyond the car and looked over her shoulder.
Blue handed Daniel his backpack. His brother took it, but his grip was weak; the bag slid out of his hand. He made no move to pick it up, only continuing to stare at Serena. Even in just the moonlight the whites of his eyes were bright and huge.
Blue sighed and shut the car door. Daniel jumped as the door slammed; he clutched his chest as though shot. No words, though—no sound at all. Just more staring. Blue waited a moment, giving him a chance, but when Serena began slipping away he gave up and jogged after her. His knee hurt, but he thought of Iris and swallowed down the pain.
Dirt scuffed; Blue glanced over his shoulder and saw Daniel running after them, backpack swinging from one hand as he tried to put it on without slowing. He caught up quickly, still looking shell-shocked. Blue thought about talking to him, making certain he was all right, but Daniel was on his feet, moving, and what the hell—if and when his brother wanted to share, he would.
Serena moved quickly; the only way Blue could track her in the darkness was to focus on the faint electrical hum of her heart. The moonlight helped, but only enough to show him that they traveled on a narrow track that cut a swath through the desert. A road, maybe. Blue had no idea where they were. The night was very still, the air comfortably cool.
He patted his pocket—cheap reassurance that his cell phone was still there. Roland had promised backup, but that was hours—and a lifetime—ago. No way for his friends to find him now, not unless Dean was on board; and even if they were looking, he doubted they would arrive in time to help break Iris free.
Forget Serena and her rules. Contact Roland.
But he did not. He pulled out his phone and turned it off. Daniel watched. He was a loud walker; his breath hissed, his jeans rubbed.
“You planning on making a call?” His voice dropped to a whisper.
“No. We’re on our own.”
Somewhere distant, a coyote howled. “You said you were in the military, right?”
“More as a tech guy, but I did my share.”
“That’s deliberately vague.”
“It has to be. Some of what I did is still classified.”
Daniel grunted. “So you think you’re qualified to storm the castle and rescue the princess?”
“Don’t you?”
That earned him a small smile. “Answer something for me.”
“If I want to.”
“Fuck you.”
“Not between brothers, please.”
Daniel let out his breath in a slow hiss. “You weren’t surprised by my … abilities. I want to know why.”
“How did you know who I was the first time you saw me?”
“My question first.”
“Maybe later, then,” Blue said, and moved from a fast walk into a run. His body protested, but he fought to stay steady, to manage the pain. Daniel kept up easily with him. He asked no more questions, just tucked his chin, gaze fixed on the path ahead of them.
Serena was a flicker in the moonlight; a shadow sliding from one patch of darkness to another. Watching her, Blue pushed out with his mind, stretching to the limits of his gifts. Without a current to ride upon, his range was limited. In cities there was power everywhere—he could follow the lines, could lose himself in individual electromagnetic threads, his own private labyrinth. But here, nothing.
Until, quite suddenly, something
sharp tapped against his shields, a staccato dance, and Blue called out a warning even as he dropped his mind into the middle of a grid. He found electricity running beneath the ground directly ahead of them, fueling a network of sensors.
Blue turned them off. Easy as thinking about it, using his instincts to feel where the current should be broken, and—there. Done.
“What happened?” Daniel asked, as Serena appeared. Still a leopard, still on all fours. Blue ignored them both, riding the current, the wires, trying to push all the way to the source, searching for anything else that could harm them. Nothing—nothing—and he had almost reached his physical limit when something else tickled, something large, moving fast.
Cars. Heading straight toward them. He could hear the vehicles in his head, buzzing like bees, and it was only when Daniel stirred and said, “Something’s coming,” that Blue realized the buzzing was not just inside his mind, but in his ears, as well. Engines whining.
A gunshot split the air. Daniel flinched. Serena went very still, head raised, ears swiveled. Her eyes glowed.
“No,” Blue said, but it was too late. Serena ran.
“Shit,” Daniel muttered, but that was because Blue followed her, throwing himself into a long, lunging run that made his bones scream and his breath whistle in his lungs. Hell week, he reminded himself. Basic training, all over again. Except he was thirty-two and injured, and he was trying to keep up with a goddamn leopard. In the desert. At night.
Serena left the path, and the ground turned uneven, filled with sharp rocks and sharper plants. Blue pushed past his shields, splitting his focus, letting his body take over the running while his thoughts rode the underground grid below him. A split-second journey; his mind came up directly beneath the cars, sending him right into their metal hearts, the pulse of currents leading from the batteries. Blue entered them, one after another, disrupting the flow of power.
Silence. Blue tracked the buzz of radios and shorted those as well. He heard a faint shout, another crack of gunfire. He pushed himself harder, wishing for that Humvee as he made his way up a low ridge. His foot snagged painfully on a heap of sharp rocks—he almost went down—but Daniel was suddenly there with a hand under his arm, hauling him up and forward.
They reached the top of the ridge. Below, another spread of desert. Moonlight revealed the dark glint of cars, scattered and still. Flashlights swept the ground. Blue heard more shouts, doors slamming. Behind them, in the distance, headlights bounced—and beyond that Blue saw yet more light—from a building that, even at this considerable distance, appeared large. The facility was outside of Blue’s range, as were the cars driving from it. Soon, though.
He and Daniel were too far up the ridge to be seen, but Serena had already veered to the right and was headed directly toward the men. Desperate, reckless. Not at all concerned with staying hidden. Almost as if she were trying to draw attention to herself … to protect someone.
“What’s she doing?” Daniel asked, but Blue caught sight of new movement at the base of the ridge, a long, dark body racing low to the ground, shadow to shadow, and he did not think, he did not plan, he scrabbled down with the same wild abandon, falling hard on his hip and sliding most of the way with one hand braced against the rough ground as he tore a path to the flatland below. Ugly, loud noises. He kept expecting gunfire, shouts, a crotch full of cactus—
The air zinged; a bullet slammed into the ground beside him. A near miss, but he kept moving, finally finding his feet and cutting sideways in a zigzag pattern. He looked back over his shoulder just once; Daniel was behind him, moving far more gracefully. Careful, Blue thought, but that was all the concern he could spare his brother. He had almost reached bottom, and the men were running now. Blue cut out their flashlights. He thought about doing more, if he could get close enough—one thought, ten heart attacks—but held himself back. If he slipped, if he lost control—
You’re older now. You know what you’re doing.
Maybe, maybe not. Killing a person with his mind was a hell of a lot different from shutting off a toaster.
Blue reached the base of the ridge; Serena had already begun to draw fire, though the sounds that alternated in his ears were a mixture of bullets and something softer, like the beat of a wing, or a slap. A tranquilizer gun, maybe. Bullets to herd, sedatives to take down? Which made Blue wonder if the men really knew what they were hunting—woman or leopard … or both. Because that was Iris down there—he knew it, felt it in his gut and in the way Serena was acting—but if Santoso knew it, too …
The moon was too bright; there was no such thing as true cover. Taking away the flashlights had not slowed the men at all, which also said something about their training.
“Can you get rid of their guns?” Blue called back to his brother.
Daniel slid close. “Too far. My range is limited. I bet Serena could outrun those assholes, though. She needs to be moving away, not toward.”
Blue said nothing. He knew why she was drawing attention to herself, and his suspicion was confirmed when he heard a high, wild scream split the air that was definitely not from Serena.
Damn. Blue reached for his gun. More than three hundred yards of rock and scrub separated him from his enemies, who had spread out from the three stalled vehicles in a diamond pattern. Blue began running just as a long, dark body hurtled across the ground toward Serena—who suddenly exploded from the scrub, trailing golden light. She threw herself at one of the gunmen, and though it was too dark for details, Blue heard the man scream like his balls were being ripped off. She was fast, brutal, left the man in the dirt and then went for another, and her body rippled as she moved, still surrounded in light, until suddenly she was on two feet instead of four, dancing like a gymnast: raking faces, bodies, shimmering like some specter of death.
Blue stopped, aiming, but there was no clear shot, nothing that might not clip Serena as the men themselves struggled to shoot her with a tranquilizer. She was too fast for them, too slippery, gunshot wound be damned.
The other leopard was almost there, a blur in the moonlight. Blue found himself running after her, shouting her name, shouting “Iris,” and the cat faltered, looking at him. Eyes glowed, illuminating her face, and for a moment Blue could see the woman inside the leopard, could trace the lines of her cheeks to a gaze that was so human, so startled, that it seemed to Blue there was no such thing as fur or claw or tail. Just Iris. Just her.
“Stay back!” Blue shouted at her, but Serena screamed—this time in pain—and Iris turned away and threw herself into the fight.
“Iris?” Daniel murmured, but there was no time. The two brothers ran, and this time Blue fired shots—wild, meant to miss—trying to create a distraction, trying to draw the fire away from Iris and Serena as those two shape-shifters tore into Santoso’s men. The darkness was saving them, but Blue knew that would last only so long. Serena, he thought, was not moving quite as fast.
And those cars were still coming, still out of range. Blue could see the dots of their headlights getting larger. Soon, soon, soon.
Santoso’s men began to return fire; Blue dropped to the ground, dragging Daniel with him. Some of them were stupid enough to break away from the others; Blue shot them down.
“Close enough?” Blue asked his brother.
Daniel grimaced, and began crawling on his stomach toward the fight. Blue followed him, giving cover, still trying to draw attention away from Iris and her mother. Both were in leopard form now, impossible to tell apart, but Blue saw a rifle butt slam into a spotted back, and felt the answering cry reach down into his chest and squeeze.
He almost killed that man. Almost used his mind to reach out and cut the electricity around his heart.
And if you make a mistake? If Iris catches the wave? If her mother does, or Daniel?
Fuck. And fuck sitting here while they were in the middle of it. Blue shot to his feet and started running. Daniel called his name, but there was no such thing as turning back. He shouted at Santoso’s
men, waving his arms, feeling like a crazy man and not caring as more of them broke away, raising their guns. Blue had the faster trigger, but even as he fired, even as the men fell down, he felt something tickle the edge of his shields, a low hum that was not strong enough to be a car but that had a similar mass. Or rather, enough numbers crowded close to feel like a mass.
People. A lot of them.
Cold sank into his heart; he pushed harder and felt no cars behind that group, no radios within it. Nothing electronic. Close now. Traveling upwind. A group of ten—ten hearts, charged—and not one of them wearing so much as a watch. They had to be pressed together, tight—the electrical charges were too faint to catch on their own, if spaced out. Not unless he knew what he was looking for.
How could they know? Blue thought, numb. How could they know how to hide, unless … unless …
“Iris!” Blue roared, but it was too late. He saw movement less than a hundred yards away at the base of the ridge, deep within a jumble of large rocks that were only steps from one of the stalled cars.
He ran. He ran straight toward Iris—Iris fighting, her jaws clamped around a man’s throat, rolling and rolling with her back feet raking his gut—and felt bullets whistle past his head as he looked down the barrel of a gun aimed directly at his face, moonlight glinting on the barrel.
The weapon never fired. It was there and gone—torn away and flying through the night to skitter across the rocks. Not just one gun, but others—all of them in that small circle of violence going, going, gone—and for one brief moment Blue thought they would make it out of there, that they had a chance.
And then the reinforcements hiding in the rocks started firing, and their guns did not go away, did not stop. Serena and Iris broke from the men they had been fighting—men who flopped like broken dolls on stone—and they met no resistance from those left untouched as they raced toward Blue and Daniel.
Eye of Heaven Page 24
