I never thought I could hate Dr. Dean more than I already did, but, at that moment, I hated him with every single fiber of my being. It was such an intense emotion; my soul shook with its force.
“You should never have left the Scientists before your time…” Wasn't that what Elizabeth had told me?
I counted the months I had been away fast in my head and calculated. I had been away from the PSS about a year and seven months. I multiplied it by three and the answer was… fifty-seven months more.
Almost five years.
“Did you—did you help facilitate my escape?” I asked slowly. “To prolong this penalty time, or were you just watching me interacting with ordinary humans?”
“Oh, we were watching. We were watching every step. I myself prefer how you dealt with the mage. Dr. Maxwell was also very excited about that, but he was fascinated by the vampire mind controlling. It was a factor Dr. Maxwell hadn't imagined before. He wanted to keep sending more and more people after you, but I held him back as much as I could. Partly to prolong the months, partly because you were becoming a very costly project and I was getting pressure from the funds.”
“So, what changed?” Because something definitely did. The last few weeks felt like a marathon for my life. I had yet to take a breath.
Dr. Dean's eyes shone with something. Greed? “About five weeks ago, this gentleman approached me and made me a very tempting offer. He brings me one of your kind, one that is not a mixed breed like you, but the real deal. I deliver you to him. I must admit,” he confessed earnestly, the sincerity in his eyes as wrong as sunlight at night, “I got very worried when you discovered the transmitter and we couldn't tell your whereabouts.” He tsked at me as if I had been a naughty child. “But all we had to do was watch the Whitmore woman and eventually you were bound to come. I am sorry though General Parkinson couldn't hold his end of the deal. His ineptitude will be discussed in a long letter to his superiors.”
“So now what? I go with this so-called gentleman, to where? What will you tell your donors happened to me? Surely, they will be curious.”
Dr. Michael Dean spread his arms wide to both sides. “Well, if when I return to say that you've encountered a very drastic and fatal end, what can they say? Especially when something bigger, meaner and more dangerous is under their microscope, ready to replace you?”
I felt shock sink its icy teeth in my flesh when the meaning of his words fully sank in. “No one will believe you.” But even I didn't sound so convinced.
“Why not? Who's going to dispute it? Your assassin friend, the one who murdered five government officials in broad view? I don't think so. They'll believe me. Trust me on that.”
He checked his watch again and searched the land around us. The creatures had stopped about ten feet away and were all watching us. I couldn't see them clearly, but I was very aware of their presence. I could also tell there were at least a half a dozen of them.
Dr. Michael Dean caught me watching and chuckled. I promised myself I'd smash a fist into his mouth if he emitted that infuriating noise again.
“It's almost time now. Don't worry about these creatures. Like I said, if you don't touch one, it won't harm you.” He finished by pointing his penlight at the nearest one, the silhouette I had seen.
It was small, the size of a child. That's where the resemblance ended, although I had no right comparing this creature to a child. Its head was small and round with pointed ears that protruded from both sides of the head like small arrowheads. The eyes were small, shell-shaped and dark, the nose just two dark orifices, and the lips too thin, the aperture wide. The rest looked like a human too far gone with anorexia, as if there was nothing but skin to cover the bones, which seemed to be stretched thin, grey in some places and yellow in others, although it could have been the effect of the penlight. It crouched low, its knees reaching up to its chest. The tail twitched every now and then, circling around its body and unwinding back. Two small wings protruded from the middle of its back, far too small to support it in flight. It held both hands together as if it was nervously fidgeting—or awaiting an exciting event. The fingernails were pointed and long. The creature smiled—or snarled—and its mouth stretched from ear to ear, showcasing an impressive array of teeth, piranha-sharp. Michael Dean quickly moved the penlight away, proving how much the creature unnerved him.
“They're harmless,” intoned a nasal rumble from behind Michael Dean.
We both startled at the sound, then at the small figure who had appeared—literally—out of thin air behind us.
Chapter Forty-Seven
If Remo Drammen scared me shitless when I had met him back in Vegas, he totally petrified me now, in this land of death, in this other world.
It was an unreasonable fear, a primitive instinct born in an era when people still lived in caves, passing down stories to their children we now read about in religious books. It was a feeling deep within my soul, in a place never touched before.
It was an unreasonable fear, given the fact the guy was just standing there doing nothing threatening, especially with him dressed in a ridiculous electric-blue suit and round plastic-rimmed glasses. He looked like the weird guy in town everyone had something to gossip about, just a harmless guy who'd rather keep to himself.
He was not harmless. No, he was one of the most dangerous beings I'd had the misfortune to meet.
The guy didn't have an aura, for crying out loud. One couldn't even hold his gaze without having to look away. And the power he oozed… I've never felt such a thing from any one person before.
And look at that. For all the hours I had been there in that horrid land, darkness reigned all around. Now there was about a fifty-foot radius of illumination around him. He wasn't holding anything to light around him. It just was. There were about a dozen of the creatures surrounding us, one as close as an arm's span behind him. They looked exactly the way Dr. Dean's penlight had shown.
“They're harmless,” Remo repeated reassuringly. “Until you get one to owe you a favor, they're just annoying little bastards. After that, they can be really useful.” He shifted to Dr. Michael Dean then and, despite his flat expression, I sensed derision and disdain coming from him. “You're not supposed to bring anyone here. Your pass allowed only you to travel through the paths. You were supposed to secure her, then come alone for us to conclude our bargain.”
Dr. Michael Dean looked ill. “Forgive me. I didn't mean to disobey… I ran into some trouble and it was either bring her or leave her behind, and she's a very hard creature to catch.” He gave a nervous laugh that cut off abruptly when Remo didn't look amused.
“You are such ignorant fools. You could have killed her in the Leeway.” Remo Drammen gave a resigned, nasal sigh, as if he suffered ignorant fools every day. “I suppose I should thank you. At least now I won't have to deal with you again.”
It had taken me until then to realize that Remo Drammen was my buyer. “But you—you tried to kill me. You sent guardians after me.” I didn't mean to sound indignant, but it came out that way nonetheless.
Remo's gaze sharpened with interest. “Guardians, ay? And yet you are here. Alive and in one piece.” He gave me a calculating look, but I couldn't hold it for more than two seconds. One, two, and they moved away. “That serves to enforce my beliefs about your value.” He gave me a quick, clinical once over, as if I were a stud he was considering buying.
Dread, so deep and strong, began gnawing at the pit of my stomach, racing my heartbeat and dimming my vision. I had been sold like an animal to the most powerful black sorcerer on earth. Probably the most powerful in all the worlds and dimensions combined.
Dr. Dean shifted beside me and I zeroed in on him. “You made a deal with a black sorcerer.” For some reason, the realization shocked me. Maybe because, despite all else, Dr. Dean was a researcher, an obstacle, a tool between the ordinary and the weird, the person who tried to equalize the balance of power so it wouldn't tip in one direction.
And here he w
as… in the Low Lands, a black ring around his once plain blue aura, making a deal with the devil.
“Absolutely,” he said without an ounce of shame that he had betrayed his main goal. His main mission. “And will come out the winner. Mr. Drammen and I are both satisfied with the result, and no one's the wiser. I have acquired a new addition to my dangerous species collection, gotten rid of you, will renew a very profitable contract with lots of funds, and come out on top.”
A sudden realization struck me then. “You're talking about Archer. Oh my God. You're talking about Archer,” I repeated in disbelief.
“But of course. Mr. Drammen and Mr. Archer have been rivals for a very long time. He has eliminated his arch-nemesis from the equation, acquiring in the process a very beautiful, talented, and clever woman. So, you see, we're both winners here.”
Archer was a rejected. I was a rejected. And Logan had known what I was all along. If not from the beginning, then ever since I told him who my father was. I recalled Logan mentioning crossing paths with Remo Drammen before. Of course he had. Archer had been Logan's mentor. Remo Drammen and Archer were enemies.
Is that what the unspoken question between Rafael and Logan had been about? What kind of creature I was?
I'm Remo Drammen's new toy.
All those jumbled thoughts flashed in my mind in an instant.
I looked at Remo Drammen, who oozed revulsion at Dr. Michael Dean. He was very close to one of the creatures and seemed not to be affected at all by its nearness to him.
“Why? Why do you want me?” I asked the sorcerer. His gaze shifted from Dr. Michael Dean back to me, and his expression was terrifying. I felt my heart start skipping beats and began to feel light-headed. If I passed out now, I might never wake up again. Or sane, or my old self at least. I gritted my teeth and forced myself to calm down.
Remo Drammen watched me, a fleeting glance showing his dark eyes gleaming with anticipation, the expression more frightening simply because of its authenticity.
A predator pleased with its prey.
I fixed my gaze on the bridge of his nose, stealing a few glances at his pitiless eyes.
“You're very valuable, poppet. Don't undermine yourself. I need a disciple to teach my knowledge and you are the best choice. You're untried with too much untapped power you have no idea you yet possess.” He gave Dr. Dean a sideways glance, a little awkward because of the height difference, and went on. “Eliminating Archer was the only way we could go on uninterrupted. He wouldn't have allowed this to happen. I will regret not having him on the field, providing me with exciting diversional challenges. He's a very formidable foe,” he sighed, his expression resigned as if he really regretted it. Perhaps in his own twisted way he did.
“I'd thought that after a time passed he'd be able to bring down the facility, or at the very least his people would go after him, but I'm afraid those idiots will break him before then.” He shook his head sadly and said, “It's true that nothing is perfect.”
Dr. Michael Dean shifted, cleared his throat and asked, “Will you be requiring anything else?”
“No. Our business is finished for now. You may go.”
I saw relief mark Dr. Dean's face and realized he had been expecting Remo Drammen to double-cross him. The creature behind Remo stretched its legs, gaining a foot at least to his height before subsiding again. Its wings beat furiously, emitting a loud buzzing noise, but like I had already guessed, he didn't leave the ground. His little wings didn't support his weight. Remo Drammen didn't even turn or twitch. Dr. Michael Dean, on the other hand, saw and hurriedly turned to leave. He said to me, “Behave”, winked, and began to move away.
That's when I finally snapped.
* * *
I felt my already-simmering blood boiling like hot mercury.
This man had ruined the better part of my life—abusing, violating, causing mental and physical pain—and now was turning me over to a man who was probably more a monster than he ever was, and was walking away, smirking.
I didn't think, I just reacted. Out of anger, anguish, despair.
I grabbed his arm, whirled him around, and twisted it high on his back in one motion, his suddenly limp fingers almost reaching the back of his neck. When he cried out and began lowering himself to diffuse some of the pain, I thrust him with all my strength at Remo Drammen, who had just stood watching. They hit each other like a bowling ball on a tenpin and both went down hard.
On top of the little creature.
It gave a little shriek of outrage, or joy, and suddenly there were a dozen more creatures hurtling down on Remo Drammen and Dr. Michael Dean. They tore at the two men with teeth and sharp claws, the creature's high-pitched shrieks like a rehearsed chorus against their screams of pain. Blood was flowing everywhere, but not a piece of flesh was misplaced.
It was gut-churning. Bile kept rising and I kept pushing it back in a dance between reflexive instinct and fear that some would fall on a creature and be construed as a physical touch. I backed away carefully, horrified at the scene taking place less than ten feet in front of my eyes, careful not to bump or step on one of the many creatures. There seemed to be dozens and dozens, and more kept arriving every second. None touched me, but they came close enough that I had to press my arms against my body to keep myself from touching one without meaning to, before I could turn and go.
Chapter Forty-Eight
When I was sure I was clear enough to turn and flee, I did so, moving as quickly as I could with my limited vision of the terrain, Dr. Dean's penlight and Remo Drammen's natural light long gutted out. Their tortured screams followed me for a long time though, even when I was sure that they were all in my head. I didn't even have to close my eyes to see the whole bloody carnage taking place again. I knew those last seconds would haunt my dreams for a long time to come, probably for the rest of my life and beyond.
The fact that everything was pitch black around me helped the carnage to sneak back over and over, playing in my head like a disc with the repeat button stuck.
For a while there, there was no scuffling, no creatures following me. Just the images and sounds in my mind. All that was missing was the soundtrack of Jaws. I shook my head forcefully, dislodging the images, and heard the first scuffling.
Despite the horror I had witnessed, I wasn't sure if I regretted what I had done. Perhaps I should have held back until after I had left this land.
What's done is done. There was nothing I could do to change it.
So, I kept on walking while the creatures behind gathered and formed their little procession.
I walked for miles and miles in what I assumed was the direction I had come from, all the while my body making known all the injustices I'd been dealing it, screaming in desperate need for a shut-down time. Could the creatures attack an unconscious, inert body?
Eventually, fear or not, I'd shut down, no matter what I wanted. As it was, I could scarcely keep myself moving forward, the motion nothing more than an inch-at-a-time shuffle.
I had to find a way out.
I was sure that I had retraced my way and surpassed our “landing point”, but there was nothing to indicate a path back to Earth.
No parallel pillars, no lonely tree, no arrow with an exit sign.
A part of me kept telling me that magic was my way out, but I refused to believe it. For to believe it was to give up, to give in to the creatures.
I didn't have this magic. I was a predator, not a sorceress.
I was moving toward the planets, but they remained regally in their place, the distance between us never diminishing. They were my proverbial carrot, just dangling there in front of me, never getting any closer no matter what.
It was as if I had been moving in circles.
I was tired, my throat burned from thirst, my stomach growled from hunger and, above all else there was the cold.
ON a quick headcount, there were more than ten creatures behind me. I suspected they were the same ones that had followed me and Dr. M
ichael Dean, the same ones who had feasted on Dr. Dean and Remo Drammen. They were expecting Round 2. Except, I was the only person on that entire planet to fill the bill.
Sorry, not gonna happen, fellas.
* * *
Some eternity later a new ache made itself known: my bladder was at full capacity.
I had to pee.
So, so desperately. It made me want to cry.
So I did.
I let a few teardrops fall, wishing I could cry my urine away.
The planets glowed and gloated at me. The creatures' incessant scuffle was like a lullaby to my ears, ushering me to curl down and shut my eyes.
Dead branches told my future.
“Ah, hell,” I swore and dashed behind a tall branch, unable to hold it any longer.
I hurriedly pulled down my slacks and crouched to pee. There were thicker branches a little farther away, the better to cover behind, but I was afraid if I did so, the creatures would only come around to see me better. This way at least I was partially hidden.
It felt so good, I closed my eyes for a second to enjoy the relief. Then there was a scuffle and my eyes flew open and focused on the creatures now at an angle to my side.
So much for half a private moment.
I counted and there were exactly twelve of them, including their leader. They formed a ragged semi-circle around him. I was ready to bolt if they came closer, so I made a little pressure to finish faster. I watched, but they didn't move. They kept a respectful ten feet between us. I peered at the leader, trying not to register the darker splotches on his skin. To my relief, most were black or grey, not a rusted brown indicating dried blood. Despite their lack of expression and body language though, I had the impression they were just as tired and weary as I was. I've never had any empathic experience with animals before and wondered what this said about those creatures. They weren't classified as animals?
Heir of Ashes Page 27
