I smiled to myself. Always better to look at the bright side. At least it was less depressing than the what-could-go-wrong side.
My smile faded to a frown. Normally I can sense things through a person’s trace, especially strong emotions. I could feel nothing from Price. Life energy still flowed through it, but it was like he was on the other side of a wall I couldn’t reach through.
I licked my suddenly dry lips, fear for him thrilling through me with new urgency. ’Til now, I hadn’t had a chance to really think about what he was going through, what the FBI might be doing to him. I’d been distracted. I couldn’t dodge the terror anymore. The helplessness. Only maybe I wasn’t helpless. Maybe this would work. Please God, let it work.
When I’d previously travelled along my own trace, I’d sent my power out along its length, following it to Taylor’s hangar, where she was being held prisoner by Percy. This time, I wanted to go wherever Price was, which theoretically should be easier, since I didn’t have to figure out a spot to stop and get off. I was powerful enough that nulling out his trace couldn’t keep me from following it. Which meant if I could get to him, I could pull him out of prison. Providing he could survive crossing through the spirit realm.
Given what he was likely facing from his interrogators, I figured it was worth the risk. To both of us.
Taking a breath, I collected my power. It readily welled up. Maybe I’d been more right than optimistic with the notion that stretching my limits had strengthened me. I kept pulling until I practically vibrated. Holding his trace in both my hands, I sent a massive pulse along its length. This time I couldn’t really follow. Not the way I could along my own trace. I was aware that my body stayed on the bed, while my mind fled after the magic I’d launched. I’d had to wait until I was somewhere safe to try this. Otherwise someone could come along and kill me or kidnap me before I could return to my body to fight.
Price had been nulled the moment he left the house. Though his trace faded, I could feel it, an organized thickening, a fluttering of sparks spinning away in a cable of life. I told myself not to be reckless, but urgency made me rush. In the end, I doubted it would have made a difference how fast I went.
One second I was sizzling along his trace, the next I crashed into something solid. My spirit seemed to explode. Or that’s what it felt like. Searing pain flared along my shattered self. On the bed, my body snapped backward so hard I launched onto the carpet. I convulsed. I went completely rigid as I arched off the floor. My spirit self fluttered and buzzed like a flock of drunk moths. Electric, razor-winged, venomous moths. I pulled on them, willing them to return to me, but I felt like someone had shaken my head before banging it on concrete. I hung on the edge of unconsciousness, my mind a shredded tangle of yarn bits. I couldn’t put two thoughts together.
Instinct saved me. That and sheer bullheaded determination. I wasn’t going to die or go insane. I wasn’t going to fail Price. I wasn’t going to give up. I wasn’t going to lose this fight.
Gradually I reeled all the bits of myself back, following Price’s trace like a lifeline. It was a lifeline. When I could think, I made my body relax, collapsing flat onto the floor. Instantly cramps snatched up clumps of muscle and twisted them viciously all along my back, legs, and shoulders. My knee and ankle joints locked under the onslaught. I must’ve held them so rigid that relaxing triggered the cramps.
I rolled over onto my stomach and made myself get up. I staggered back into the bathroom and grabbed a cup from the cupboard and drank down several glasses of water. Then I forced myself to stagger in a circle around the room, lifting my arms and stretching as best I could until the cramps eased.
When I was done, I peeled off my sweat-soaked clothing and took another shower. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream and kick, and if it would have helped, I would have. But I needed to hold my shit together. I hadn’t really thought I’d be able to pull him out through his trace, I reminded myself. Still, I had to squeeze my eyes hard to keep the tears from falling.
Mechanically I washed, then left the shower and dried off. I avoided looking at myself in the mirror. If I looked anything like as bad as I felt, I didn’t want to know. I also swallowed four ibuprofen for my sore . . . everything. The aspirin from before my shower wasn’t going to cut it. Hopefully a few gallons of coffee would take care of my exhaustion.
After I got dressed again, I returned downstairs. Even I could tell I was smelling a whole lot better than earlier. I wore my usual uniform of jeans, tee shirt, hiking boots, and a light jacket. I hadn’t taken the time to dry my hair, instead letting it hang loose around my shoulders. In my pocket was a ponytail elastic for later. When I returned to the Lilac Room, Taylor, Jamie, Mel, and Leo clustered at the far end. Dalton listened in from a few feet away. Arnow stood looking out through the French doors, though I didn’t doubt she was absorbing every word.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
Everyone faced me. I had an urge to run, just like a kid caught shoplifting. I forced myself to stand still. Like it or not, I was in charge of this mess. I’d come up with the outlines of a plan in the shower, but it was risky at best, suicidal at worst. Just another day at the office lately.
“You look like crap,” Taylor said. “What did you do?”
That she knew I’d done something was testament to how well she knew me. “I tried to reach Price through his trace. It didn’t work.”
“You can’t go doing that kind of shit on your own,” Jamie said, looking pissed.
I wasn’t in the mood for brotherly love, at least not the kind that tried to wrap me up in cotton and Bubble Wrap. Before Leo could gang on, I went on the offensive.
“What exactly were you going to do to help me?” I asked. “Not much anybody could do. I decided the reward outweighed the risks and took a shot.” I shrugged. “Didn’t work. Time to move along to plan B.”
“We’ve been discussing what to do,” Mel said, interrupting Jamie’s heated response. She motioned me inside and gestured at everyone to sit. She brought me a cup of coffee from a pot on the sideboard, liberally adding sugar and cream.
Manna from heaven. I sipped and about melted.
Mel returned to her seat. “Agent Arnow has kindly filled us in on your activities. Taylor and I have a few things to add. Taylor?”
She pushed her hair behind her ears. “I spent awhile talking to Agent Henry.”
I frowned at the reminder and glanced at Arnow. “You said that Agent Dante Wolfe was behind the arrest, but we met Ezra Henry. He said he was in charge of the case.”
Arnow nodded. “There’s always two agents in charge on a Rice arrest. One takes lead on the interrogation, the other runs the other side of the case—gathering intel, interviewing witness, and pursuing the investigation. Throughout the interrogation period, the two maintain constant communication. There’s not a lot of time and it’s critical that they work all the angles simultaneously. Often what one learns will enable the other to make inroads and vice versa. Wolfe runs the Diamond City office and wanted to question Price personally, so he assigned Henry to the other side.”
The fingers of my empty hand curled into talons. It was all I could do not to rip her face off. She made it sound so civilized—question Price. As if they weren’t doing unspeakable things to him. Less than a week ago I’d been in the clutches of Percy Caldwell. He’d burned my arms with cigarettes and later cut off my thumb. It had been one of the most painful and horrifying experiences of my life. I knew to the bottoms of my feet that Price’s suffering would be ten thousand times worse.
I felt myself starting to shake with my fury and fear for him. I tamped it down. I needed to be as cold as Arnow if I was going be of any use to Price.
“Okay,” I said, looking at Taylor. “What did Agent Henry tell you?”
“Nothing,” she said. “He wanted to milk me for information.
He kept asking about Price’s talent and what I knew about it. He also asked about you and your relationship with Price and Touray.”
“So what’s—” I started.
“Let me finish,” Taylor snapped.
I bit my lips. “Sorry,” I said. Sitting on the couch didn’t feel the least bit like helping Price, and I itched to do something. But first we needed a plan, which meant talking and listening.
Taylor’s expression softened. “We’ll get him back. He’ll be all right.”
She met my gaze, her blue eyes determined. That I wouldn’t have to suffer what she’d suffered in losing Josh. She knew my fear and love and helplessness. She’d been there. I nodded, and she abruptly came to sit beside me, lacing her fingers in mine and squeezing. I held on to her tightly as she continued.
“As I was saying, he didn’t tell me anything, but just before I left, he got called out. That gave me a chance to poke around. We were in an interview room with an adjoining door. I peeked inside the other door and found his real office.
“One whole wall was devoted to Price and Touray, with all kinds of notes and photos and strings connecting them. A picture of Dad was in the middle, with you and me on the side. Above were Mel, Leo, Jamie. Below was your mom. It was a crime-scene picture from when she was murdered. There were more pictures on the side of people I didn’t recognize. The weird part was that Dad was in the middle of everything, like he was the one under investigation.”
I shot a look at Dalton. “Why is the FBI interested in Dad?”
His shoulders lifted. “I don’t know what drew the FBI’s attention to your father.”
“You’re lying.” I let go of Taylor and stood up.
His expression hardened. Dalton was a warrior and a soldier. He had his marching orders from my dad, and I could tell he wasn’t going to give up information or abandon his duties just because I didn’t like him. Not that I planned to give him a choice.
Dalton was wearing a trace null, but no others. Good for me, bad for him. He stared at me as if daring me to make him move. All right, then. Time to throw the dice.
“Leo? Jamie? A bit of help, please?”
Every bit of metal that Dalton carried on him melted away. More flowed over the ground and dripped down from the ceiling. In moments he was encased in a filigree cage made of razor wire. My brothers didn’t like him either.
“If you can’t be honest with us, then I don’t want you part of this.” I looked at Mel. “Should we continue this conversation somewhere else?”
She rose. “Absolutely.”
She started out of the room, and I followed without another glance at Dalton. Leo put a hand on my shoulder. Jamie slid an arm around my waist and hugged me to his side. He was all solid muscle, which was comforting.
“It’s going to be all right,” he said against my ear. “We won’t let you down.”
I nodded, my throat knotting. I wanted to believe we could do this, that we could rescue Price and then Touray. But we were going up against both the FBI and a powerful Tyet syndicate. Did we have even a snowball’s chance in hell?
“Stop,” Dalton growled from his prison.
I did, but didn’t turn around, barely daring to hope. “Why?”
“You need my help.”
I turned halfway. “You’re a liability. The smartest thing for me to do is leave you here so I don’t have to worry about when you’ll stab me in the back.”
His mouth pulled flat, and his jaw knotted. His eyes seemed to flash with internal light. “Your father sent me to help you. He doesn’t want you falling into the wrong hands.”
He must have realized that was the wrong thing to say as soon as he said it. Fall into the wrong hands? Like I was some sort of thing? I felt heat steaming up from my belly and suffusing my face.
“Your father loves you,” Dalton said, changing strategies. “He doesn’t want you ending up hurt.”
I wanted to believe him. Deep down, I desperately I wanted to think my father loved me and was fighting to keep me from harm. But I didn’t. I felt like a piece on a chessboard. If that’s all I was, I wasn’t going to be a pawn; I was going to be the queen or a knight or a rook. Somebody with power. Somebody who could run the board. Maybe my father loved me in his own peculiar, twisted way. Maybe he thought scrambling my brain and stealing my memories was a sign of that love. Not me.
“My dad,” I began, and stopped as emotion boiled up in me. I felt so much and none of it good. “My dad wouldn’t know love if it drove over him in a tank.”
I was in the doorway when Dalton spoke again.
“He left because it was the only way to protect you back then.”
I turned slowly, my whole body flickering with electricity. “What do you know about it?”
“Your father held them off for a long time,” he said. “Long enough to build his power base so he could protect you when they decided to come at him again. Now they’re back. You’re in deep now and you don’t even know how far. All of you. You need him, Riley. He needs you, too. More than you know.”
“Who? Who’s coming after me?”
“The bastard who murdered your mother.”
“You aren’t going to tell me who that is, are you?”
“I don’t know.”
“You know how I know you’re lying?” I asked. “Your lips are moving. I’m done.”
“No, you’re not. You need me.” With that pronouncement, Dalton’s body blurred, and he stepped outside of his cage. He solidified again and gave himself a little shake.
I stared.
“Nice trick,” Leo said, but he sounded as shocked as I felt.
“Useful,” Jamie added.
Useful was right. I hated to even think it, but we could use him. As if he sensed my softening, he faced me, his silver gaze boring into mine. “I know it means little to you, but I swear on all that I hold holy, I will not betray you on this mission to rescue Clayton Price.”
I wondered what Dalton might hold holy. My lips twisted. “That’s it? After that you’ll go back to screwing me over?”
“Would you believe me if I said you could trust me beyond?”
“Not on a bet.”
“Then just so far and no more. I give you my word.”
Not that his word was worth anything. Still, we could use his skills. “If you try to hurt any of my family, and that includes Price, I will personally kill you. On that, you have my word.”
“Are you certain you want to trust him?” Jamie said beside me.
“I don’t trust him,” I said, my gaze pinned to Dalton’s. “But this is David versus Godzilla, and if we’re going to win this battle, we need all the help we can get. Walking through walls might be what we need to tip the scales in our direction. Plus Dalton is good at what he does.”
“So were Adolph Hitler and Joseph Stalin.”
“All the same,” I said, “he’ll be useful.”
I turned and walked away, wondering if I’d just pulled the pin from a grenade and stuck it in my pocket. Dalton would betray me, sooner or later. I just hoped I could save Price before the bomb went off.
Chapter 9
MEL RAISED AN eyebrow when Dalton followed us into the dining room.
“He can walk through walls,” Leo said in answer to her unspoken question.
I had to smile. I was willing to bet that Dalton hadn’t wanted that secret broadcast. Too bad for him.
“A useful talent,” Mel said, settling in at the head of the table.
The maids had set up a sideboard with platters of eggs, sausage, bacon, waffles, fruits and cheeses, plus coffee, tea, juice, and milk. Sometimes money was nice. Food magically appeared when you wanted it. My stomach growled. I filled a plate and grabbed a carafe of coffee to set by me on the table. I fille
d my cup three-quarters full, then poured in cream and stirred in a healthy dose of sugar. I drank the cupful and filled another before diving into my breakfast.
Mel had pointed Arnow and Dalton to the chairs beside her. No doubt she was planning on reading them. Jamie and Leo had bookended each of them, and I sat beside Leo while Taylor sat across from me. For a few minutes, all we did was eat.
“I spoke to several of my contacts,” Mel said suddenly.
I glanced up at her. “At the FBI?”
She nodded. “And other places.”
“Did they say what the hell they were doing breaking down your door?” Taylor asked.
“Just business,” Mel said, her expression shuttered. “I shouldn’t be consorting with known criminals. But they thanked me for bringing him out where they could get to him.”
That turned me to ice. Because of me, because of dinner with my family, Price had been less protected.
Mel leaned forward, her hands pressed flat against the table. “None of this is your fault,” she said.
“Touray wouldn’t have let this happen,” I said, guilt pressing hard on my lungs.
“But he did. He knew where you were going, did he not?” Before I could answer, she continued, driving her point home. “Unless Price stayed entirely out of sight and under the radar, he was going to be taken. It was only a matter of time. Everything I’ve learned about him convinces me he would not be content to hide, even if he knew the FBI was hunting him. Am I correct?”
I had to nod. That was true. Price was determined to live his life, not just exist. That meant doing dangerous things like going out in public. Meeting his girlfriend’s family. Mel wasn’t quite done.
“Do you blame yourself for Touray’s abduction?” she asked, sitting straight and lifting an auburn brow.
Whisper of Shadows (The Diamond City Magic Novels) Page 11
