A Perfect Darkness

by Jaime Rush

  Gawd, she wanted to slap her forehead.

  “Who’s Lucas?” he asked, instead of answering her. He balanced the basket on a slim hip.

  She appeared to look confused. “Lucas…well, you know, he never told me his last name. I figured he was someone you knew since he gave me your address.”

  Bill had that same blend of glow colors as Lucas, Petra, and Eric. It meant he was definitely connected to whatever this Offspring business was. And to her. She let her gaze drift behind him and saw an old framed picture of a serviceman on the wall. Below it were three faded roses tied with a black bow.

  “Your father?” she asked, walking into his apartment as though riveted by the picture. She recognized Bill’s features in the handsome black man. “Army?”

  He followed her but couldn’t seem to voice his obvious objection to her boldness, which was just as well. His glow, which had started out close to his body, now flared out. He set down the basket with a thud.

  “My father died, too,” she went on, because babble was good; babble was working for now. “He was in the Army. But he didn’t die in a war.” She looked at him and the words “He killed himself” tumbled out of her mouth.

  Bill’s face changed from disbelief to a mix of pain and surprise. He looked at the picture. “My father did, too.”

  Now she knew why she’d been compelled to say it. Always trust your instincts. “Gun?”

  “Hanged himself.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, wincing in sympathy. “When did…it happen?”

  “January seventeenth, 1989, 5:32 P.M.”

  Her eyes watered at the date recited from memory, down to the minute. “September second, 1990,” she said. “Two-thirty.”

  Gunshot coming from her house!

  Spray of blood.

  Shallow breaths.

  His eyes wide and fearful, pleading, Save me. Save me.

  “Daddy, no!”

  She could hear his words even though his mouth hadn’t moved. A shocked girl’s imagination.

  She and Bill faced each other. He was probably remembering as she was. His gaze shifted to the floor. “We’d just moved out of Fort Meade.”

  “That’s where we lived…where it happened. Bill, did you ever have a weird feeling about your father killing himself?”

  “A million times. But then…”

  “That would mean it was something more than just despair. Did your father have a history of mental illness?”

  “No.”

  “Did it run in your family?”

  “Not that I know of.” He was getting impatient with the questions, but she forged ahead.

  “What was your father doing at Fort Meade?”

  “I dunno, research, I think.”

  “Mine was in administration. Don’t you think it’s a strange coincidence, both our dads in the same place, same time, and both killed themselves within a year of each other? I have two friends who also lived near Fort Meade and they each lost a parent, too.” Maybe the Army was yet another commonality between the Offspring.

  He snatched up the basket and walked toward the door, a signal for her to follow. “Look, I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I’ve got to get my laundry in, so…” As soon as she was out the door he locked it, and went down the stairs without looking at her again.

  Amy wandered to her car and didn’t even remember turning the key and driving home. She should have felt relieved that she couldn’t go any farther. She could go back to her life and forget all this madness. Fatigue melted her and she could barely keep her eyes open as she dragged herself up the stairs. Locking herself inside, she curled up on the Killer Grape. She couldn’t even make it to the bedroom.

  She drifted through the hypnagogic state of sleep, slipping past the frightening voices. Then sleep drew her deeper yet, and she sank into dreams. In the middle of one about the FBI men breaking in and shooting her this time, the dream morphed into the one she knew so well. She saw her dream lover approaching, only this time she saw his face. Lucas. His expression wasn’t tender, though, but tense. As she always did, she ran to him.

  “Lucas!”

  His image flickered, like a television station that wasn’t coming in properly. She felt his touch on her shoulders. His mouth moved a second out of beat with his words. “Amy, forget what I told you. Stay out—of it. Tell no one what—I said.”

  “Lucas. How are you here? Is this just a regular dream?”

  “No, it’s real.”

  “But that means…you’re alive.” She ran her hands over his face, needing to feel him. “Please tell me you’re alive.”

  “I’m alive—shot with a tranquilizer gun.”

  He was alive! Cyrus had lied about Lucas’s name and that he was a killer. It made sense that he’d lied about Lucas being dead. Joy rushed through her.

  “Where are you? I talked to Eric and Petra. They wanted to know what happened to you. We thought you were dead. But you’re not.” She couldn’t believe it. “We can save you.”

  Even with the flickering, she could see his distress. “No. Don’t. Forget—me. Keep yourself safe.”

  Like hell. The words jarred her in their vehemence. Her dream lover was real, and he was in danger. She had a choice: stay in her safe world or save Lucas. She already knew her life would never be the same. Her cocoon had split open, and though she was no butterfly, she had to fly out into the dangerous world. “Lucas, why do you keep flickering in and out?”

  “Giving me—drugs, something.” He held her face, looking at her. “Amy, stay away. Promise me.”

  She nodded.

  He kissed her, his body pressed to hers, and God, he was real…this was real. Her fingers trailed through his soft thick hair. He was hard, pushing into her stomach, and she rocked against him. He held her face, tilting her to just the right angle to plunder her mouth. He paused, looking at her in wonder, his thumbs rubbing the corners of her lips. With a small groan, he kissed her again. His tongue laved hers like a man starved. She ran the tip of her tongue along his teeth, darting it against the roof of his mouth. As she sank into the magnificence of the moment, he flickered.

  Then he was back, holding her as though if he held on tight enough he wouldn’t leave. She wanted to ask him more about where he was and what they were doing to him, but knew he wouldn’t answer. So she took what he would give her. She loved that he would protect her, even though she wasn’t going to let him get away with it.

  He began to unbutton the dress she wore in her dream—for some reason, she wore dresses, though rarely in her waking life. She sighed, tilting her head back and letting him kiss down the length of her neck and then lower to the soft indent between her breasts, just as he had so many times.

  “Lucas…” she whispered, meaning Take me and Help me find you all at once.

  When he didn’t respond, she opened her eyes. He flickered out, leaving her in a deep, sudden darkness. She sat up, breathless as always, attempting to button up a dress she wasn’t even wearing. That’s how real it was. As much as she wanted to cherish those sensual moments, she had to push them to the back burner to savor later. Lucas was in trouble. With fear and adrenaline shooting through her, she lurched up from the couch, grabbed her keys and left.

  For a few minutes she wasn’t sure where she was going. When she found herself back at Bill’s complex, she didn’t question it. Instinct again. Bill was a link to Lucas, or at least to whatever Lucas had been about to tell her. She needed to find out more without freaking him out.

  This was why Lucas broke in and forced it on me.

  As she opened her car door, her gaze caught on something that stopped her. No. Couldn’t be. She blinked just to make sure. Yes, Cyrus. Cyrus was there, walking toward the apartment building. Lucas’s warning sounded in her mind: Someone you trust is going to betray you.

  Not Cyrus. So it was surely a coincidence that he was here, of all places, of all times. Surely an even bigger coincidence that he was heading to the stairs that lead
to Bill’s apartment. He wasn’t actually going to Bill’s apartment, of course. That would be too much of a coincidence. Yet, he did walk right up to the door and knock. Bill opened the door, and she was shocked to see the two men shaking hands and do the shoulder-patting thing men who know each other well did.

  “Huh?”

  Amy drooped back into her seat, stunned. The two went inside for thirty minutes, giving her time to look for Cyrus’s car. It was nowhere in sight. When he emerged, she could see the frown on his face.

  If Bill had something to do with this Offspring business, and Cyrus had gone to Bill’s apartment, that meant Cyrus was involved. The thought settled like trans fat in the pit of her stomach. It lurched when she saw him walk to the white car she’d seen when she had gone to the gallery. Not his car.

  “Cyrus, you were following me like I was some criminal,” she said, raw emotion in her voice.

  Amy’s brain churned as much as her stomach as she glued together her fifth Geex character in a row. Orn’ry obviously picked up on her nervous energy. He kept walking from one end of his perch to the other, muttering, “What the fluck?” Fortunately, he’d misheard some of the words his first owner had obviously used a lot.

  A knock on the door sent Orn’ry into his usual screeching spasms. She sprinted to the peephole: Cyrus wearing a somber expression. Maybe he was here to tell her what was going on and why he’d lied to her. She yanked open the door and tried not to look anxious.

  His smile looked phony. “Hey, hon. Just stopping by to check on you.”

  She didn’t say a word as she stepped aside and let him in.

  The light shining off his bald head looked like a halo. “I’ve been worried about you. How are you holding up?”

  She gave him the so-so sign with her hand.

  Orn’ry put up a fuss, and Amy yelled, “Hush!”

  “Hush!” he echoed back.

  She sank into the Killer Grape, pulling her knees up to her chest.

  Cyrus sat in the chair. “I hope you didn’t stay around the house all day,” he said.

  She had an aching feeling she knew where this was going. He was fishing, hoping she’d mention her visit to Bill Hammond or the gallery. That he couldn’t come out and ask told her everything.

  Someone you trust is going to betray you…

  Not Cyrus. Please not Cyrus.

  “I ran some errands.”

  He waited for more. She pressed her lips together, holding in words she couldn’t let out.

  …and someone is going to die because of that betrayal.

  “Just…errands?”

  “Trying to get back to normal.”

  Like normal would ever happen now. They remained suspended in an air of false trust, real suspicion, and hope that the other would come clean. If the party line was that Lucas was dead, they had other plans for him. That sent a jolt of panic through her. Where was he? What were they doing to him? She knew she wouldn’t get the answers from Cyrus.

  She could see his turmoil even as he tried to bank it.

  “Amy, you know you can trust me. Whatever’s going on, let me help.” He tried to pin her gaze with his.

  I can’t trust you. I can’t trust anyone. She pushed to her feet and walked to the door. “I’m so tired right now. I haven’t been sleeping well. Can we talk later?”

  He followed but stopped beside her, tilting her chin up. “Sure. Then I want you to tell me what’s going on inside that confused head of yours.”

  She could only nod, the dam barely holding back the tears. The pressure was building. As soon as she heard his footsteps going down the stairs, she slid to the floor and let the Dutch boy pull his finger out of the hole in the dam. It was her father’s death all over again. Except this time she had no one to hold her, to comfort her. This time she was truly alone.

  As the tears swamped her, though, the comforting presence she’d always felt during dark moments wrapped around her. Dad. It wasn’t as strong this time, but it took the edge off the ache and brought her out of her sobbing. That abandoned little girl had survived. Yeah, with a few dents and scars, but she’d survived. She would survive this, too. First she had to find out what this was.

  She hobbled to the sink, splashed cold water on her face, and took a deep breath. “Okay, pity party is over. I need answers. I can’t go to Cyrus or Bill Hammond. So I go back to Eric and Petra. They know what’s going on. And they’re going to damn well tell me everything.”

  CHAPTER 6

  Amy was shaking by the time she reached the gallery. Fear, anger, and a mix of other emotions gripped her. She had taken a circuitous route and was sure she hadn’t been followed. It was almost closing time, and Kira was in the process of locking the door. She opened it when she saw Amy.

  “I need to talk to Eric and Petra,” Amy said, then belatedly realized she’d forgotten a polite greeting. “I’m sorry. Hello. I need to talk to Eric and Petra. Now.”

  Kira looked unsure.

  “Do you want to save Lucas?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then get Eric and Petra.”

  Kira glanced around, though no one was there. “Wait a minute.” She made a call in the office while Amy waited. Naturally, she had to wait by the paintings. Her body stirred at the memory of those particular dreams: Lucas running his hands down her bare back; she artfully lying across his body.

  Kira returned with a piece of paper. “Eric said to meet him at this address at nine tonight and—”

  “Make sure I’m not followed. Got it.”

  Amy punched the address into her GPS, which showed it would take forty minutes to get there. She had plenty of time to stop by a jewelry repair shop. She pulled out Lucas’s necklace and held it to her mouth. “When I promised I would stay out of this, I was crossing my fingers.”

  From his car, Cyrus watched Amy walk into the gallery for the second time that day. Lucas Vanderwyck’s gallery. Which meant Lucas told her something that intrigued her enough to pursue. It also meant Amy knew that Lucas Brown was a lie.

  His cell phone rang. He recognized the number and was tempted to let it roll to voice mail. The man would only call again and again, so Cyrus answered, “Diamond.”

  “Have you talked to Shane again?”

  “Twice now. She’s upset, of course, and wondering why the ‘FBI agents’ didn’t follow normal procedure by questioning her, but she bought the serial killer story.”

  For a moment there was silence. “That’s what I needed to know.” The line disconnected.

  It wasn’t the first time he’d lied. Wouldn’t be the last.

  Amy emerged within a few minutes and headed to her car. Cyrus pulled out a few cars behind her. He knew she’d noticed the white car, so he’d switched to a different one, a different disguise. She was on guard, searching the parking lot, taking convoluted routes to her destinations. She was up to something and she didn’t trust him.

  That was dangerous for both of them.

  Gerard Darkwell hung up the phone and looked at his associate, Sam Robbins, across a pristinely organized desk. “Diamond says Shane bought the cover story.”

  “You don’t believe him?”

  Gerard knew that Robbins, with his round face and brown rabbit eyes, wasn’t tough enough for this job. That he was up to his balls in this made him an asset.

  Gerard’s phone rang again. The man on the other end said, “It’s Costa. Amy Shane went to Vanderwyck’s gallery. Now she’s on the move. Diamond is tailing her, and I’m tailing both of them.”

  “Good work.” Gerard disconnected. “Shane’s at the gallery. We need to find out what she knows. Just as I suspected, Diamond is holding back on us. They’re both becoming a problem.”

  Robbins ran his hand over his balding head. “With all due respect, we need to stop now. Resurrecting this is going to destroy us and destroy innocents.”

  Gerard narrowed his eyes. “Nobody’s innocent.”

  “Is that how you justify your actions?”

>   He could see that Robbins had grown a bit of a backbone since their last association; unfortunately, it was directed against him. He would have to crush that before it grew troublesome. “I don’t have to justify my actions, Robbins. I’m thinking of a higher cause. The noble and brave risk all for the betterment of our society. I’m risking my career, just as I did twenty years ago. Yes, we made mistakes then.”

  “Mistakes? People died.”

  “Sometimes people must suffer and die for higher causes. Soldiers have died for our freedom since the beginning of time.”

  “But they sign on for that. They know the risks.”

  “Keep your focus on the big picture. Look what we accomplished! And we would have accomplished so much more if…well, no point in lingering in the past. There’s nothing we can do but make use of it. And make good of it. We’re going to change the world as we know it. We’re talking about victory, justice, everything we dreamed of last time. Everything we almost had.” He stared at his clenched fist, remembering how it had all slipped through his fingers. “You and I, we have another chance to attain our goals. This time we’re doing it differently.”

  The recrimination in Robbins’s expression softened. “Are we?”

  “With our participants, yes. The ones who are causing us trouble are another story altogether. I’m not going to let a few rogue twenty-year-olds threaten everything we can achieve. That’s why it’s imperative that we crush them.”

  Amy slid the repaired necklace over her head and pressed her fingers to it. It was like having Lucas with her. God’s protection wouldn’t hurt either. She made the hour’s drive into Baltimore to the park where she imagined walking alone through the dark—and having Eric jump out of the shadows.

  As she drove closer, though, she saw lots of cars and people and more rainbow flag stickers than she’d ever seen. Cars were parked all along the roadways and in spots that weren’t quite parking spaces. It was almost nine o’clock now. She chewed her lower lip and searched for a spot. “Yes, mine!” she said when she saw reverse lights flash on.