She ducked under a pile of metal railings and scurried toward the far corner. Even though Antsy must have been left with the remains of her blouse in his hand, he was hollering for her. Maybe he didn’t know she was a shifter. Maybe he thought she was naked. Gross. The railings hit the floor with an earsplitting crash. Breaking glass suggested they had fallen onto the glass-fronted cabinet beside them.
She dove deeper into the shadows. She and Molly hadn’t needed this space. Molly found the basement cramped and claustrophobic, but Blythe liked small spaces. They made her feel safe. Snug. Of course she had explored down here. How not?
Rabbits were drawn to underground secrets. She had discovered a little hole that opened into the roof of the original cellar. That low space was even damper and mustier than the basement above it. And full of bricks, building waste, and dirt. But if she could get there, Antsy couldn’t follow.
The hole was behind a whole row of boxes punctuated with gaps only big enough for a bunny to squeeze through. She was scampering through the canvas she had draped over her bolthole before Antsy realized he couldn’t find her. The subcellar still smelled of the coal and beer that had been stored in it when Seattle was a frontier town. And of other less pleasant things. Don’t think about rats.
A faint glow told her where the exterior wall of the subcellar was. Only a few of the semi-opaque glass prisms that had once let light into it still existed, and they were largely obscured by the latest sidewalk, but a rabbit didn’t need a lot of light. Just enough so she didn’t hurt herself on the piles of rubble between her and her destination.
She had made herself a cozy nest in the far corner. Because you never knew, and no rabbit was ever sorry she had a bolthole. If push came to shove, she would try a little excavation into next door. There were rat holes to get her started. She didn’t love a rat, but better a rat than a flat or a sharp. You knew where you were with a rat.
Antsy’s swearing evolved to a vicious recounting of what he planned to do to her once he found her. He didn’t have much imagination, but his words still made her tremble. She made herself small and burrowed under her ragged blanket. His search was punctuated by the toppling of boxes and the smashing of their contents.
Upstairs Neil and Sheppard’s fight made the building shake. She thought about how Neil had said his frost didn’t work on the flats yesterday. What if Sheppard had a crystal too? Could he take out her dragon?
CHAPTER 24
Neil~
Sheppard bounced lightly from foot to foot, waving his eight-inch blade hypnotically. “Take it easy.” A heavy dose of psi energy shimmered in the air. “We just need to have a chat with the woman. After she tells us what we want to know, we’ll let you both go.” A blatant lie, but Sheppard was a flat. He expected to be believed. That was his talent. He had tried a similar lie in Mystic Bay when Neil had disarmed him.
He so did not have time for this. Not when some douche had his mate. He chilled Sheppard’s aura. The bastard kept coming. Neil gave him a second blast of frost. But Sheppard was effortlessly fighting back. The freak was strong. Stronger than those Spider-Man dudes had been yesterday. His aura was even flatter and slicker than it had been in Mystic Bay. He shook off Neil’s third blast of frost and charged.
Below in the basement, the other thug shouted angrily. Neil forced himself to concentrate on the enemy in front of him. The screech of crashing metal followed a series of thumps. Something shattered. Sheppard’s buddy was throwing stuff at his mate. He needed to finish this. Neil stepped to one side, kicking at the elbow of the outstretched knife arm as he moved out of range.
His heel was a fraction off. That damned crystal again. Although the kick threw him off-balance, Sheppard didn’t let go of his blade. He turned fluidly in the air and came back at Neil with a burst of speed, tossing his knife from hand to hand. He drew the left one back to throw it. Neil watched his eyes, ducked, and came in low. He connected with Sheppard’s hip. The knife quivered in the hallway wall.
Sheppard got there first, retrieved it, and came back at Neil again. His aura was even smoother and harder now. Where was the flat pulling all this energy from while he was fighting? Fortunately, he seemed to have decided that the risk of losing his weapon was too great to chance another throw.
He feinted to the left, and came hard at Neil, his blade flashing like lightning in his right hand. It was obviously a trick, but that diamond-bright blade dazzled Neil’s senses. He tried another blast of frost. And another. It was like throwing snowballs at a greasy pan. He was running out of puff and this dude was getting stronger.
Sheppard laughed. It was genuine laughter. Sheppard was almost giddy with the rush of the fight. Looking forward to gutting Neil like a trout. A true psi-psychopath. Neil did a front roll under the blade and landed a blow high on his assailant’s right arm. Too bad the knife was back in Sheppard’s left.
Sheppard laughed more delightedly and ramped up his psi energy as he closed in for the kill. The front door opened and two more men burst in. They were dressed identically in dark blue pants and red knit shirts. Nestor’s Sanitary Services was embroidered on their chest pockets. Great, more twins. They moved swiftly, silently, bodies poised to attack. Shit. He was outmatched.
Sheppard performed his arm-waving trick again, advancing on Neil. Sanitary Services was almost upon them. The good news was that neither man had a gun visible. Not crystal-enhanced flats, this time. Wolves. Neil was going to have to shift to deal with them. Not that there was room here in the hallway for a dragon. His back was to the wall, and he didn’t dare turn to face either Sheppard or his backup. It was go big, or go down.
But Sheppard didn’t seem to like the wolves either. His aura energy wavered and fell back into the normal range. He plunged into the break room, producing an electronic device, which he scrambled to use on the rear door. Before he could get it open, Neil grabbed the back of his shirt and spun him violently into the wolves.
They received him as if he were thistledown, one giving him a quick a punch to the throat, the other going for the solar plexus. After that they passed him between them, relieving him of his knife while applying a couple of nice clean scientific jabs. The scuffle over, one wrapped him up tight in long arms. Sheppard’s lips moved but all that emerged were gasps.
The other wolf produced a silvery pen which he plunged into Sheppard’s shoulder. His pal let the suddenly limp knifeman slide gently onto the floor. Sheppard’s aura settled down well below normal range. The slipperiest sections of his spectrum rippled faintly.
“SPAR?” demanded Neil.
“Sorry it took us so long.” Writing on his shirt declared this wolf’s name was Chris. His pal’s read ‘Stan’. “We weren’t expecting trouble from inside. This guy must have beaten us here. Took us a while to realize we were needed.”
“How long will he be out?” Neil asked.
Chris shrugged like it was a matter of complete indifference to him. “Long enough.” His voice was pitched to carry only to Neil’s ears. It was the voice a man used in guerrilla warfare.
There were more thuds and crashes from down below. Noise meant Blythe was still alive. Probably. But he had to get down there.
Stan pulled off the knifeman’s mask. “Know him?”
Neil nodded. “Meet Dallas Sheppard.”
Stan patted Sheppard down briskly, flipping him onto his face to get to his rear pockets. His search produced not only the lock pick but a piece of faceted yellow glass more than twice as large as the one Neil had taken off the thug in the SUV. No surprise there. These dudes seemed to have an endless supply of psi-weaponry.
Chris whipped out zip ties and secured Sheppard’s wrists and ankles so expertly it was obvious he had had a fair bit of practice. Stan made a pile of his findings. Cell phone, lock pick, artificial crystal, and stun gun. Chris handed Stan a black bag with a drawstring to secure his haul.
“There’s another one in the basement,” Neil murmured just as low as Chris had down. “He’s got Blyt
he.”
“What are we waiting for?” Stan asked happily.
CHAPTER 25
Felix~
Not even the boss’ presence could interfere with Felix’s awareness of the woman at his elbow. Molly Needles was the most exciting woman he had ever met, unfortunately she had not shared his exhilaration at their introduction. In fact, judging by her coolness, she had felt quite the opposite emotion.
It wasn’t just her looks that attracted him. It was true that her combination of red hair and bright green eyes was striking. But she wasn’t just pretty. Her face had too much character for mere beauty. No, it was her essence that everything male in him was responding to. Too bad hitting on Justice’s woman was probably grounds for dismissal.
“It felt dead to me,” Colin insisted. The flat’s crystal remained in the hot lab vault because Molly refused to be in the same room with dirty-glass.
“Take my word for it.” Her jaw tightened. “That piece has still got plenty of dirty-psi infused in it. All it needs to regain full firepower is to be tuned to someone’s aura. It’s dangerous.”
“You mean once it’s tuned to resonate with an individual’s frequencies, that person can access its power?” Colin asked.
Molly got to her feet and moved to the floor-to-ceiling windows that distinguished the director’s office. Beyond the glass, plants swayed under a brilliant blue sky, and a rainbow of butterflies and songbirds darted among the green leaves visiting flowers of every color. Everything about that garden sang to her senses. She took out her sunglasses and waved them over.
“What do you see when you look at the garden?” she asked. “I mean psychically.”
“Greenery,” Felix said. “It’s beautiful, but I’m afraid I’m not especially sensitive to plant psi.”
“I am, but I can’t detect psi through this bulletproof glass,” Colin growled. “No one could.”
“I can,” she said softly. “And with my sunglasses on, I can see more.” She held them out to Colin. “Go on, give them a try.”
“I’ll break the temples,” the boss protested. The bear had a big head. Literally.
“Flexible hinges. Go ahead.”
Felix knew by Colin’s sharp intake of breath that the glasses rocked his senses. He turned to Molly. “What?”
“They’re tuned to plant psi, because that’s my main area of interest and what I see best. But I could have them additionally tuned to my aura to enhance my talent — if I went to another glass tuner.” She did not have to explain that no one could detect their own aura so self-tuning was not an option. “However, even without special tuning, they give my senses a real boost.”
“Is it some special type of glass?” Colin asked.
“Nope. Just off-the-shelf sunglasses. Mind you, they’re polarized and made of real glass and come from an excellent manufacturer. I can’t tune plastic and there’s no point tuning poor quality lenses.”
“May I?” Felix asked.
Colin handed them over. “The colors are more vivid,” Felix reported, “but no psi experience.”
“I can’t add what you don’t possess,” Molly’s voice was tart.
“Okay, Ms. Molly,” Colin said, “Connect the dots for us.”
“The analogy isn’t perfect,” she admitted. “The yellow crystal Ferris gave me was infused with dirty-psi intended to disrupt multiple places on a human aura. Any human. And then it was tuned to resonate with and amplify a particular psi-psychopath’s talent. Based on my short acquaintance with Hyland Ferris, I’d say it ramped up his ability to deceive, while simultaneously degrading whatever small supply of empathy and decency he was born with. And it’s likely the tuning made the effect of the disrupting psi on his aura more potent as well as permanent.”
“Diabolical,” Colin said. “It destroys the user, while turning them into a kind of super-flat.”
“Exactly,” Molly said. “And there’s no reason that the psi-disruption should be detectable by the user until it’s too late.”
“But how does it work?” demanded Felix. “How could anyone infuse that kind of power into glass?”
Her nose wrinkled adorably. “Theoretically all you’d need would be a psychopathic psi-criminal who was also a super strong glass talent.”
“And where would you get one?” asked the boss at half volume.
Molly shrugged. “Beats me. I come from a decent law-abiding family. Not a flat in the bunch.”
“Hmm.” Colin said. “Let’s assume they used some artificial means.”
Molly eyes were the size of tennis balls. “Don’t ask me. I’m a photographer. I can tune glass. Period. I’m no para-physicist.”
“That would be me,” Felix said.
“Get on it, Dr. Mason,” Colin ordered. “That’s what we pay you for.”
On his way out the door, he heard Molly ask skeptically, “He’s a doctor? For real? Isn’t he kind of young?”
Felix pretended he hadn’t heard. He had a job to do and the clock was ticking. Presumably, Colin informed her that his head of R&D had a perfectly real PhD. Nothing the boss could do about Felix’s youth.
CHAPTER 26
Neil~
They could all hear the other goon bellowing in the basement. The guy was obviously flinging stuff around. At her. While promising to rape her. Poor little bunny had to be terrified. On the other hand, her ring was still pulsing strongly. Calling to him. She had to be okay. Didn’t she?
Neil got in position on one side of the basement door, Chris and Stan on the other. “Locked?” mouthed Stan.
“Sidearms?” Chris’ lips moved equally silently.
Neil shook his head. The wolves were armed, but adding guns to a hostage situation wasn’t smart. They were going to need some kind of diversion. The light switch was beside the door.
Chances were that even if there was another switch at the bottom of the stairs, Sheppard’s accomplice was not standing beside it. From the sound of his screaming, he was some distance away from the stairs busy threatening Blythe and breaking stuff. He had seriously lost his shit.
Neil pointed to the switch and mimed pushing on the door. The other men nodded. Chris smiled like a man anticipating a good time. Neil didn’t mind a fight himself, but he wasn’t looking forward to this one. He had to assume that their adversary was armed. And like his pal Sheppard, a psycho. It would be all too easy for Blythe to end up shot.
He didn’t know if he should be glad that he couldn’t hear her. Sheppard’s buddy seemed to be growing shriller with every threat. Out of control wasn’t good. Neither was Blythe’s silence. Maybe he had taped her mouth shut? Neil nodded back at his allies and swung the door silently against the wall. Simultaneously Chris flipped the switch down. The basement was submerged in gloom.
They had only a couple of minutes before the freak’s eyes adjusted to the loss of light. Neil’s vision adapted at once. Presumably the wolves’ did too. A shifter thing. The wooden staircase barely creaked as he let the railing take his weight. Off to one side he spotted a gap in the rubble of overturned junk. He went over the railing, landing lightly on the balls of his feet.
The freak had a gun all right. With a fucking silencer. Shots thudded into the doorway. He was firing at the patch of light coming from the opening. But the wolves weren’t there either. Nobody fell. Nobody spoke. Neil drifted toward the muzzle flashes, looking for bare spots on the floor. All that heaving crap around had created a lumpy jumble of broken glass and pottery.
Neil dropped behind a capsized Victorian fainting couch with horsehair exploding from its underside. He took stock. The freak’s aura was flaring violently. Where his pal’s had been glassy smooth, his was spiky and erratic. Yet unnaturally strong. This had to be what Blythe meant by a sharp. And a psi-weapon enhanced sharp.
Neil knew he was running low on psi-energy, but he gave the sharp all the frost he had. Nothing, unless you counted the freak aiming his pistol at Neil’s location. Behind him, Chris and Stan were doing what they had been t
rained to do. Moving silently toward their objective. Forty seconds. Eighty to go before the sharp could see again. Stan stumbled, something crashed. Another bullet thudded into a carton.
“Keep back,” shrieked the sharp, “or I’ll put a bullet into the broad.”
Except that the freak didn’t have a clue that he was exposed. And he didn’t have Blythe with him. Chris moved to Neil’s right to complete a classic pincer move. Together they rushed the sharp who fired his pistol twice more at where Neil had been. His next two shots went into the ceiling.
Neil’s elbow compressed the freak’s Adam’s apple in a chokehold. Chris had a lock on his gun arm. Stan produced more zip ties and another pen. The freak’s eyes widened in horror but Neil’s elbow kept him silent. Stan injected him. Almost immediately he went limp.
“I kinda wish you hadn’t done that.” Neil let the sharp drop. “We need to know where he stashed my fiancée.”
“This dude is way too powerful to leave conscious,” Stan said grimly. “Believe me wolves don’t trip in the dark. And this isn’t even dark. Dude took me down from across the damned room.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll find her,” Chris promised. “No point asking liars anything, anyhow.” He began to turn out the sharp’s pockets.
Neil bent over and picked up the green crystal the wolf had found. Unlike the yellow one in his pocket, it gave him a jolt. He dropped it. It was like sticking his finger into an electric socket tuned to the sharp’s aura. Nasty. “You feel anything when you touched it?” he asked.
“Nope.”
Neil handed him the crystal he had palmed the day before. “You might want to add that to your goody bag. I took it off one of yesterday’s villains. And for the record, the two that got away weren’t the same goons as these two.”
“Same masks,” Chris said easily.
“Different scent.”
“Noted.” Chris put the dead crystal Neil had given him into a different bag.
Dragon Intrigues Page 9
