Healing Heather

by Aiki Flinthart

  She opened her mouth to protest the patronising assumption that she had nothing else to contribute, then shut it and rose. No point. He was used to command. Used to running the show. Used to protecting people. He wouldn’t want to hear her plan. She didn’t really want to say it aloud, either. Once she did, there was no going back.

  But, if he didn’t have a good plan by morning, she would have to speak up.

  She shivered.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  KADE

  Kade swam into consciousness slowly enough to become aware of a killer headache and to remember what had happened. Taken hostage. No-brain rookie idiot! He forced himself to keep his eyes closed, his body limp, and cheeks slack. Where the hell was he? Last he remembered was the sting of the dart, the hot lethargy in his muscles, the leather-scented car interior.

  Now there was only darkness and silence. The softness beneath his body could possibly be a bed. His arms and legs were not restrained. No voices or sounds to orientate from, either.

  Was he a prisoner, or not? Maybe Torin had already got him free and was waiting for him to wake.

  He almost moved, then decided against it. He’d stayed in Tor’s spare bedroom often enough to know the smells and sounds of that apartment. These sheets smelled more like motel laundered ones. They were thick and stiff. Tucked tight into the mattress.

  So not Tor’s place or the safehouse.

  Light played across his eyelids and he flinched.

  ‘Ah! You’re awake.’ That was Carleton’s urbane drawl. ‘Please do join us in the living area, Mr Miller. We have good news.’

  Kade swore and opened his eyes. The bedroom door swung wider, admitting a cold overhead light from the hallway outside. He squinted and flung aside the thick sheets and gold silk quilt. His feet were bare. His jeans and shirt had been replaced with a pair of white silk pyjamas emblazoned with the Mandarin Oriental hotel logo. Right. That answered one question, then.

  He plucked at the top. ‘My clothes?’

  Carleton smiled indulgently. ‘You won’t need them. Not yet, anyway. Come. Dinner awaits.’ He rubbed his palms together. ‘Tomorrow is looking extremely promising.’

  ‘What the hell do you want Heather for?’ Kade rose. Carleton towered an inch or so taller and Kade found himself pulling his shoulders back.

  Carleton’s heavy eyelids drooped. ‘Don’t play the fool with me, Miller. You know what her…gifts are.’ He cocked his head. ‘But are you aware she is subhuman? A halfbreed.’ He waited. When Kade didn’t react, he nodded. ‘You do know and you think it doesn’t bother you. It should. Her species have been trying to control humanity for thousands of years. I suspect she might have played you well. She seems to be good at getting people’s sympathy.’

  Kade suppressed a fresh surge of hurt at her admission to midwifing Amanda. No. He quashed the anger. He needed to think clearly. Carleton was trying to twist his emotions, to get him onside. This was a hostage situation. He had to remember that.

  But perhaps, if he played along and gained Carleton’s trust…

  ‘Well, you’re not wrong there,’ he said, allowing bitterness to colour his comment. ‘She had me tied in knots. Until she showed her true colours. But that doesn’t mean I want to see anyone used in experiments, like she’s some sort of animal.’

  ‘Is that what she told you?’ Carleton chuckled. ‘We don’t want to experiment; we want to learn. We’ll take blood samples, of course, for DNA.’ He leaned closer, eyes glittering. ‘Can you imagine what we could do for humanity if we could isolate the genes that give these creatures their powers?’

  Kade barely stopped himself from saying, All humanity, or just a select few? Instead, he put on a thoughtful frown.

  ‘I’m still not comfortable with this.’ He folded his arms. ‘I can see the benefit, but why not ask for her co-operation instead of all this?’ He indicated his room.

  Carleton uttered a sharp bark of laughter. ‘We tried. Many times. They won’t help us. Even after their much-vaunted Council of Wisdom died off a millennia ago, they insist on separating themselves. Trying to stop humanity from progressing. Improving. Come.’ He waved a negligent hand.

  Kade followed him into the large, airy living space. Ten dark-clad, heavyset men were scattered around the room. Three by the door. All armed and with the stoic expressions of men well-enough paid to ignore whatever happened to a hostage.

  ‘We tried breeding programs,’ Carleton continued. ‘Using captive sidhe women and selecting for specific gifts. Didn’t help. The powers stay in the female offspring and weaken with each generation. Although one of our members has found a number of half-blood women here in the US with very useful gifts, so it might still come to something.’

  Kade hid a shudder. Captive breeding programs? Christ.

  ‘Anyone with the full gene complement is connected to this sianfath thing they go on about and seems to have trouble seeing the benefits of progress. Those with the Dark gene are fine, but a little…unstable and hard to control.’

  ‘Dark gene? First I’ve heard of that.’

  Carleton shrugged. ‘Just the sidhe fighting amongst themselves, really. A faction that they call ‘Dark’ because they tend to be psychopathic and…well…dangerous. Part of why we’re trying to eliminate them. But that’s a conversation for another time.’

  ‘So, what are you doing, then?’ Kade sat at a huge, black marble table and helped himself to roast beef and potatoes from a silver-dome-covered dish in the centre. Seemed very ordinary fare for such an upmarket motel. Was Carleton trying to show he was a normal guy?

  He cast a shrewd glance out the darkened window at the glittering cityscape outside. Was Torin holed up in one of the buildings nearby, watching? That would be protocol. Didn’t his girlfriend, Michelle, own an apartment somewhere here?

  ‘So…’ Carleton sat opposite and piled his plate high with steak and potatoes and drowned it in gravy ‘…we aim to separate just the genes for the gifts. And put them into pure humans.’ He spoke around a mouthful of potato and waved a fork. ‘A whole new race of super-humans. With telepathy, telekinesis, healing, and a range of other useful powers.’ He poured himself a glass of red wine and tilted it in a silent toast.

  Kade chewed thoughtfully. ‘Interesting. Where do I come in? As a hostage for Heather, or did you have something else in mind?’ Maybe he could tease out information on their grander plan. Something Rowan and Logan might find useful in their struggle against the Mors Ferrum.

  Carleton pointed his fork. ‘You strike me as an ambitious man. One with skills we could use. I suspect you probably find playing second fiddle to a control-freak like Torin O’Connor quite restrictive sometimes. He’s very…by-the-book, isn’t he?’

  With an ironic guffaw, Kade reached for a cold beer from the wine bucket beside his chair. ‘You can say that again. Everything legal and above-board. Makes my job damned hard sometimes.’ That was no lie, but he also didn’t disagree with Torin. At least, not all the time. Laws were there for a reason, even if they were a pain in the ass sometimes.

  ‘Excellent. Then let’s see how this exchange plays out. If you have any…useful information you’d like to send my way about other sidhe you might encounter, I will see you are well-rewarded.’ Carleton showed his teeth, perfect, fake. ‘That will do as a beginning. Once you’ve proven yourself reliable, we can look at another position. Something within the organisation.’

  Kade controlled a desire to punch him. ‘I’ll think on it.’ He finished eating in silence. When he was done, he yawned. ‘I’m guessing you don’t need me this evening?’

  ‘Feel free to retire.’ Carleton collected a second bottle of red wine. ‘The exchange will take place in the morning. Here.’

  ‘You seem mighty confident.’

  His white smile widened. ‘Men like Torin Connor are predictable. His loyalty to his brother-in-arms will be his undoing. He will pretend to trade her for you, but he’ll undoubtedly try some clever ruse. But, since he’s no
t willing to break the law, it won’t work. He’s restricted by his moribund sense of ethics. I am not.’ He indicated the ten silent bodyguards placed around the room. ‘I am also extremely well-protected, as you can see. I’m in no danger.’

  Kade stalked to his bedroom. Two of the bodyguards followed him on silent, rubber-soled shoes. His door clicked shut behind him and their shadows darkened the gap beneath the door panel.

  A swift inspection of the huge bedroom suite showed only what he’d expected. Glass windows at the top of a sheer glass wall forty or so stories above the street. The cupboards yielded nothing of use. Everything vaguely weapon-like had been removed: chairs, tables, alarm clock, hairdryer, even the pictures on the walls. The airconditioning vent was big enough for a cat, maybe. The internal walls were drywall, but no way could he cut through them without making a racket.

  Kade dropped onto the bed and jammed his fingers into his hair. Shit. He was a half-witted, brainless idiot to have gotten himself into this, and now he couldn’t get himself out, either.

  Well, he may as well get some sleep.

  Everything had been stripped from the bathroom, so he made do with rinsing his teeth and a quick, soapless shower. What they thought he could do with soap was beyond his imagination and brought a brief moment of black humour.

  Finally, exhausted, he clambered into bed and slept.

  Only to dream of withered corpses lying scattered at Heather’s feet—including Amanda and Torin…and himself.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  HEATHER

  What sleep Heather got in the massive bed was haunted by nightmares. Her mother’s death. Her father’s hand against her face. Carleton’s sneering, arrogant inspection of her, like she was a patient without healthcare. But then his face morphed into Kade’s and a shot rang out. Kade bleeding on the floor. Amanda Black bleeding and crying for her child. And, through all of it, Heather stood, helpless, her power gone, unable to fix either Kade or Amanda. Doomed to stand by and watch as the life drained from them. As it had from her mother.

  When she woke it was full dark and the bedside clock read four am. No point trying to sleep. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her she’d forgotten to eat. Eating and bathing seemed too prosaic, but both had to be done.

  She showered, washed her clothing in the sink and hung it to dry, then put on a ridiculously-fluffy white bathrobe she found hanging in the huge closet.

  Padding silently into the kitchen, she found, in the fridge, the takeaway Torin had ordered. Some sort of chicken kiev, perhaps. She warmed it in the microwave, cringing at the too-loud beeps. Then she worked out how to operate the barista-level coffee machine.

  Seated at the huge marble table, she picked at the food, trying not to think.

  ‘Couldn’t sleep, either?’

  She jumped. ‘Torin. You scared me. No.’ She pushed the food aside and cradled the coffee. ‘Too many nightmares.’

  ‘It’ll be ok.’ He busied himself getting a coffee. When he took a seat opposite, he still didn’t meet her gaze. ‘Luke has our gear ready in the second bedroom. Nothing much to report. They caught a brief glimpse of Kade when he and Carleton came into the living area and ate dinner. He seemed alright. A bit groggy.’ He shrugged. ‘Then he was taken into a back bedroom and we lost sight of him. The drone is on the roof, observing the roof exit. No other changes.’

  Heather set her cup aside before she dropped it. He was alive. That was something.

  ‘Did Carleton contact you?’ She half-wanted him to say No. To say Kade had been released and it was all over.

  Instead, he nodded. ‘He wants you. Today. At 9am. An exchange in his room at the Oriental.’

  Cold sleeted across her skin and the milky coffee soured in her stomach. ‘And?’ she whispered.

  Torin grimaced. ‘We still haven’t been able to think of a way to get Kade out. At least, not one that doesn’t involve someone getting injured or dying. We have no idea how many dartguns they have. Cathy’s been trying to source something similar for us to use, but there’s nothing readily available that doesn’t require a veterinary licence and a whole lot of paperwork,’

  ‘Rowan and Logan had some.’

  ‘They’ve already left. It didn’t occur to me that we’d need any. And no-one seems to know what the drug is they use. Everyone’s telling us the same thing: there’s no known drug that will act that fast or reliably on a human. It’s obviously something developed in secret by this Mors Ferrum organisation.’

  There was a long, uncomfortable silence. Heather stared blankly at the white marble table, fingertips pressed hard against the cool, unforgiving stone. She sucked a slow, shuddering breath and tried to quash the coil of queasiness in her stomach.

  ‘I’ll do it.’

  A frown snapped Torin’s dark brows together. ‘Exchange yourself? No, you won’t. I won’t let you. Kade wouldn’t want you to.’

  She sent him a bleak smile. ‘You didn’t see how angry he was with me. It’s my fault he’s in this situation.’

  ‘He wasn’t angry when he called me, Heather,’ Torin said gently. ‘I heard the regret in his voice. He said he’d done something stupid. I won’t let you do it.’

  She rose, cold. ‘I told you, it’s not your decision, Torin. I’ve lived alone for a long time. I don’t need you. Or Kade. And I won’t let anyone die because of me. If you won’t take me over there, I’ll go by myself.’

  Her brother’s scowl deepened. ‘You heard Rowan and Logan. She told you to stay away from Carleton. This guy is serious. The Mors Ferrum wants you for experiments. Tortured.’ He paled and clenched his teeth. ‘I saw enough of that on deployment. Don’t make me imagine you going through something like that. I can’t lose you again.’ He reached for her.

  Heather retreated. ‘I’m sorry, but this isn’t about you. It never was. It’s about me. I save people. It’s what I do. Let me save Kade. And…’ she swallowed ‘…if you can get me something…you must have access to something like…’

  ‘What?’ Puzzlement flickered through his icy eyes.

  She made a helpless gesture. ‘A suicide tablet. Then I have an out if it gets too bad.’

  ‘Heather!’ Torin strode around the table and snatched her into a hug so tight she struggled to breathe. ‘Don’t. Don’t even think that. I’ll get you out. Carleton won’t keep you there. He’ll want to move you to a holding site, or a medical facility. That will be our chance. Stay alive and we’ll come for you. Do whatever he wants. Show him how your healing powers work. Whatever it takes. Hear me?’

  Heather broke free. ‘Show him!’ She nibbled on a nail and paced the room. ‘That’s it, Tor!’ She pressed cold hands to her heated cheeks. ‘That’s how we get him to leave me alone.’

  Her brother folded his arms across his muscular chest. ‘What the hell are you talking about? How will showing him your gifts help? Wouldn’t that make him more determined to hang on to you?’

  She firmed her chin. ‘Not if we do it right.’

  KADE

  Kade’s internal body clock roused him at what must be around oh-six-hundred. He swung out of bed, used the bathroom and checked outside. The sky was still dark, but held a hint of pre-dawn grey to the east. Far below, the morning traffic was already filling the dark streets with a steady stream of red and white lights. Manhattan music drifted up—the distant sound of honking and sirens.

  A shiver glissaded over his skin. Impulsively, he opened the thought-window in his mind as Logan had taught, and sought for Heather. He concentrated on her, the unique signature that was her thought pattern. Nothing. He swore. Too much to expect it would work. Logan had said he didn’t seem to have the gift of telepathy. Only empathy for Heather’s feelings.

  Not enough, though, apparently. If he’d listened to her; opened a window to her back in the apartment, would he have reacted the same way: like an utter jerk? Logan said you couldn’t lie, mind to mind. Was it the same for pure feelings, though? Would he have been able to tell if she was lying about bei
ng Miriam Johnson? But why would she do that? It made even less sense than admitting to be the woman who’d killed Amanda.

  He rested his forearm on the window, trying to drag his thoughts free of the unproductive downward spiral of self-blame. He’d been there before and didn’t want to revisit. But there was no getting way from the fact that he’d reacted. Over-reacted. He should have listened. Should have tried to understand.

  But, if Heather really had been responsible for Amanda’s death, what hope was there for a relationship? He’d never be able to see past it. Nor should he. She deserved prison. Didn’t she?

  The mental image of Heather—worn and broken, thin and dying in a prison cell—drove him to the door. Dammit, this was driving him nuts.

  He had to get out of here.

  The door opened and the big minion named Baker shoved a tray of food at him. No cutlery and a paper plate already soggy with bacon fat and runny egg.

  Kade resisted the urge to throw it at him. Pointless waste. Once the door closed, he ate. Not much else he could do. That done, he showered, paced, and considered all the possible ways he could kill Carleton without going to jail for it. Or dying in the attempt.

  Hours dragged by and the sun rose, beating in through the open curtains, flashing off glass all around. By the time the door handle rattled again, Kade had passed through anger into resigned acceptance. No way to escape this alive. All he could do was take a few with him and hope he could save Heather.

  Carleton stuck his head in. His jowls sagged and his eyes were bloodshot. ‘It’s time. They’ll be here in a few minutes. Come to the living room.’

  Kade followed him out. The tiled floor was warm under his bare feet. The air smelled of cigarettes and stale red wine. Empty wine bottles and full ashtrays lay scattered about the living space like the aftermath of a grad party.

  Carleton pointed to a high-backed dining chair. ‘Sit there.’ One of his minions produced a ziptie.