Chapter Twenty-Nine
McClane, reeling from the speed at which the tables had turned, took an involuntary step back from the sight of what had been Nadia Lawson moments before. "That's impossible."
Orion smirked quietly, thoroughly enjoying the man's reaction. "Come now, Simon. Surely you have enough experience with me to know that dismissing what is in front of you, especially because of something as trivial as common sense, is a poor strategy."
Recovering, the older man spat to one side, causing the Lawsons to flinch as his oral projectile landed on their carpet. "Still got some tricks up your sleeve, huh. How long have you been waiting to pull that ace?"
"You flatter yourself if you think I put that much time into planning for our engagements, Simon. I do believe that Miss Lawson has learned more about me in the past few weeks than you have in all the years you have spent in pursuit of me."
McClane sneered. "And how's she paying you for all that information, then? I never took her for that kind of girl."
Orion rolled his eyes. "Your vulgarity is duly noted, but in one respect you are correct; Miss Lawson is not 'that kind of girl', as you put it. She merely pays attention and asks questions, as opposed to committing decades of her life to skulking about chasing my shadow."
He laughed bitterly. "What, you mean asking nicely actually works with you? All right, I'll give it a shot; please Sir, could you not burn down my home and kill my parents? Oh, wait, too late."
The shape-shifter sighed. "You tire me, Simon."
Turning to the seated Lawsons, Orion motioned to Nadia's purse, still beneath the table between the couch and armchair. "Please, would one of you retrieve the cellphone from inside that bag? You will be able to reach her at the home of Police Chief Roman."
Her father, nearest the purse, got it first and began dialling while Orion turned back to face Simon. "I believe the colloquial phrase is 'your move.'"
McClane laughed dryly. "You haven't left me many options; but I'm not going to stick around while you've got me in check."
Orion locked eyes with him. "I could stop you."
"Oh, look at you, daring me to see how far I'd get," he laughed, before pulling a second handgun from behind his back. "But let's be honest; I'm not nearly stupid enough to bet my success on one gun."
"Perhaps not, Simon."
The click of a second gun being prepared to fire drew McClane's attention to one side and Orion smiled thinly. "But you are foolish enough to forget that there is a retired police officer in the room, who was in possession of your original weapon's ammunition. And, rather obligingly, you supplied her the original weapon, as well."
Turning his head slowly, the armed man saw Mrs. Lawson had indeed snatched up his discarded gun while his attention had been on Orion; it had been reunited with its clip and was trained firmly on him.
Nadia's mother spoke with the trained authority of a veteran officer. "Put your weapon down, Sir. I don't want to hurt you, but this has gone more than far enough; don't make me pull this trigger."
McClane quivered for a moment, the aggravation evident in his expression; but the facts were the facts. He could not move without being shot. Smiled ruefully, he inclined his head towards Mrs. Lawson. "Well, it seems I've been outmanoeuvred yet again. Bravo."
Leaning down slowly, he placed his gun on the floor and, at a nod from Mrs. Lawson, kicked it away. Satisfied that the man had been disarmed, she nodded. "Good. Now, get down on the ground."
Dropping to his knees on the hardwood floor, McClane did as he was told. But he clearly had ideas that did not include going to prison; seizing the edge of the Lawson's carpet, he pulled it sharply, causing both Orion and Mrs. Lawson to stumble back as their footing was lost. Steadying themselves, they saw the tail end of the man's trench coat disappearing around the corner of the wall.
Mrs. Lawson, knowing her house as well as anyone could, knew his plan immediately. "He's going for the back door, through the kitchen!"
Sprinting after him, Orion skidded around the corner in time to see a carving knife, seized from its resting place in the dish drainer, hurtling through the air. With Mrs. Lawson immediately behind him, he reacted on instinct and crossed his arms in front of his face. Orion ground his teeth as the blade pierced the skin on the back of his right hand and continued on, all the way through; with a few inches of steel sticking out of his palm, the tip of the knife grazed his face, inflicting a small cut scant centimetres from his left eye. The pain of having his hand impaled rampaged through his nervous system, robbing him of his muscle control for a moment. Tripping, he fell to his knees and slid over the polished floor of the kitchen as he did his best to keep himself from shrieking bloody murder.
Mrs. Lawson, noticing the young man's collapse and the blood beginning to show against his pale skin, began to stop, but Orion shook his head. Managing to utter a rough 'Go!' she nodded and continued on without him; McClane's capture was the more important task just now. But, when she emerged onto the back step, she saw the back gate swinging on its hinges and could hear an engine roaring to life. Stomping her foot in irritation, she turned back to the bleeding man on her floor. He had already pulled the knife from his hand, staining the hardwood red, and she watched in mute fascination as his form began to shift anew; his hair lightening while his skin gained a healthier pigment, becoming less gaunt, but a little shorter all in the space of a few seconds. When he stood, it was Thomas Carmichael in front of her, his blue eyes somehow colder than she had ever seen them.
Blinking once or twice, she decided to confront this particular issue after her daughter had arrived; this seemed to suit 'Thomas' well enough, as he said nothing and simply set to mopping his blood from the floor. Returning to the living room, she sat on the couch beside her husband, content just to know everyone was safe. Or, as safe as they could be with the lunatic who had done this still on the loose.
Her husband broke the silence first. "So... the man in the kitchen. Is he Orion? As in, really Orion? The man Nadia was asking about?"
She managed a tired smile. "I don't know, Dear, but I intend to ask our daughter some questions when she gets in. The things we've just seen happen... well, I would never have believed it before tonight. I'm still not sure I do. But that man talked about it like it was normal, and the man who was posing as our daughter didn't exactly make a big deal of it."
Mr. Lawson nodded. "Feels like they're from another world, sort of, doesn't it?"
She laughed quietly. "Does it ever. And, maybe in a way, they are."
Their conversation was interrupted by the flashing red and blue of patrol cars coming in through their window; the vehicles had kept their sirens off, presumably to keep from making a scene at quarter-past nine in the evening. Standing, the married couple moved to the window to wave to those outside and let them know they were all right.
Nadia, naturally, was the first inside after the all-clear was given and promptly catapulted into her parents' waiting embrace. "I was so worried about you guys! Are you hurt?"
Smiling at each other, they each gave their daughter a squeeze. "No, Dear, we're fine. Your young friend saw to that."
She positively beamed at that, but paused as she looked around for him. "He's still here, though, right?"
Her father nodded. "Yes, I believe he's in the kitchen, though I'm not sure what he's doing."
Her mother's expression developed the slightest shade of confusion to it. "He was cleaning up the blood, last I saw him."
"Blood?" Mr. Lawson and Nadia uttered at almost the same instant.
She nodded. "Yes. The man, the one he called Simon, threw a knife at us as he made his escape; your young friend saw it coming, but didn't try to get out of the way because I was behind him."
Nadia blinked; she hadn't thought Orion would do something like that. She supposed it made sense, since he could recover more easily than most, but... a knife? Still shuddering at the image of herself, skewered, she gave her parents one last squeeze and excused herself
to the kitchen. Arriving in the doorway, she saw a very familiar blond-haired young man dumping the mop's bucket out the back door.
He turned back to face her and her heart jumped a little. "Thomas?"
"No," was his reply, spoken in a tone that was unfamiliar to the mouth it came from. "Not this time."
She blinked, but managed a smile. "Oh, Orion, it's still you in there."
"I hope you are not too disappointed."
She nearly kicked herself. "Oh, no, I didn't mean it like that! I just meant... well, it's hard to tell from the outside, you know?"
He smiled quietly. "Yes, I do. I took no offence, Miss Lawson."
"Oh," she replied, somewhat lamely, before realizing he had just made what was basically a joke. By his standards, anyway. Cracking a smile, she leaned against the door frame. "You're full of surprises today."
"I had been under the impression that you believed that I was full of another substance entirely."
She actually giggled at that. "Well, I'll admit I wasn't too fond of you at first. I don't know, though, you're kind of growing on me; but, I suppose, keeping my parents safe does bias me a little."
Orion shrugged. "It had nothing to do with them. Simon is a determined thorn in my side; it would not have been right to let you or your family suffer because of our unfinished business."
"Well... thanks, just the same. The Chief is outside, though and he's going to want to talk to my parents for a while; maybe you, too."
He shifted his weight between his feet. "I would prefer not to, Miss Lawson. In truth, there is something I have been wanting to look into since this morning."
She blinked, tilting her head slightly. "Something like what?"
"During your phone call this morning to the police headquarters, you were told that the police force had been forcibly delayed by the involvement of an umbrella corporation; I wish to look into the matter."
Nadia blinked; that was what the Chief had told her, but she hadn't had a chance to talk to Orion about it. "How did you know that?"
He smiled patiently. "I promise that I will explain that and more when you return; it is not information I wish to become common knowledge. May I use your computer, please?"
Simultaneously surprised and pleased by his manners, she nodded. "Oh, uh, sure. What should I tell the Chief, then?"
He laughed dryly. "I was stabbed through the hand by a carving knife, Miss Lawson; I am certain they would understand if you told them I had gone to the hospital."
Nadia flexed her hand and winced at the thought. "Oh, right. That couldn't have been fun."
He chuckled. "It was not, no."
Approaching, she tentatively gave the man a hug. It was an awkward experience, entirely different than when she had done similar to Thomas; Orion's muscles tightened almost reflexively at the contact. Coughing as she pulled away, she felt herself begin blushing immediately, suddenly feeling very embarrassed.
Orion fidgeted slightly. "I apologize, Miss Lawson. I am not accustomed to physical displays of affection."
She felt the heat in her face work its way into her jaw and winced as she began rambling. "Oh, no, it's no problem, I should have asked first; sorry."
Watching him disappearing into the night, she gently bumped her head against the door frame and sighed. What am I so worked up for, anyway? I mean, sure, he looks like Thomas, but I only meant it to be a thank you. Why did I have to go and make it weird? Feeling an all-too-familiar queasiness jostling about in her stomach, she bumped her head again.
Oh. That's why. ...Damn.
In Icarus' Shadow Page 45
