Divine Wrath, page 20
Okay... Bailey’s response wavered.
Grace closed her eyes. She pictured the stairs, Bailey, Dawn. Tried to imagine exactly what it looked and felt like in there: dark, hazy with stinging smoke. Suffocating heat. Without precision, she might move herself into the flames.
Now.
An instant of stomach-turning weightlessness. A blistering inferno replaced warm outside air. Heat pressed in from all sides. The floor beneath her feet threatened to melt her shoes. Bailey huddled in front of her, cradling Dawn’s unconscious form. Grace knelt and embraced them both tightly. “Hold on, if you can. I won’t let go.”
Vertigo slammed her the moment she initiated the move out. She felt something slip. Her fingers clenched harder. At last, the heat vanished. Her back hit the ground. Two bodies slammed into her, knocking the breath from her lungs.
“Damn.” Bailey stirred and rolled off. “I want that power.”
“Trade you,” Grace murmured. “That shield is awesome.” She squeezed her eyes shut against the smoke stinging them. The scent of singed hair hung heavy around her. She blinked rapidly, let her tears cleanse the soot and smoke, and swiveled her head aside. No longer brilliant blonde, Bailey’s hair was almost completely black with ash. Dawn had fared little better.
They’d survived, though. The rest didn’t matter.
Running feet and mingled shouts approached them. Someone lifted Dawn away and laid her on the grass. Grace sat up, narrowly avoiding David’s flying tackle. “Dawn! Wake up!”
Dawn erupted in a spate of violent coughing. The spell wore down slowly, and she drew a gasping breath. “David,” she whispered. “Okay. I’m awake. Get off me.”
Sobbing, David threw his arms around her. “You’re alive. You’re not charcoal.”
“Yes. Seriously, get off me. You’re heavy.”
David scrambled up and regarded Bailey and Grace with solemn features. “You saved her. Thank you.”
“Thank Grace,” Bailey said. “I wouldn’t have gotten out without her.”
“I couldn’t have found Dawn without you. I have to know where I’m going.”
“Oh. Well, maybe I’ll keep my shield, then.”
Dawn curled on her side, and another coughing fit overcame her. When it stopped, she pushed herself up and looked back at the house. “Did everyone else get out?” she whispered.
“We’ll talk about that later,” Michael said. “We’ve got to leave. Not much time. Can you walk?”
“I’ll help her.” Evan bent and scooped Dawn to her feet.
“All right. Everyone find a partner, and stay together.”
Megan approached Grace and offered a hand. Just as stubborn as me.
Damn straight. Grace took it, wrenched herself from the ground. The tattered group headed for the camp house with shared and silent urgency.
Chapter 51
The camp house greeted them with stark mockery, an unsafe haven. Michael ushered them inside and lingered on the porch. “Pack whatever you think might be useful, in anything you can find. I’m going to bring the van around.”
“I’ll go with you.” Kendra pushed her way to the fore. “You shouldn’t be alone. Everyone stays together, right?”
“Right.” Michael gave her a grateful smile.
Grace stepped out on the porch. “I’m coming, too. No, Megan,” she said before the girl insisted on joining them. “I think you should help Lawrence coordinate things here.” She wanted to give them as much of a chance as possible. If Zane didn’t know about Kaden, he was still only coming here for her — and if he showed up in the next few minutes, she wouldn’t be here.
“Fine. Killjoy.” Megan shrugged. “Honestly, I’m glad you said that. I really don’t feel up to walking much more. Not even a couple of feet.”
“Where’s the van?”
“Around the other side of the greenhouse, in the garage. It’s not far.” Michael jogged down the steps and glanced over his shoulder. “You ladies coming?”
Grace and Kendra followed him across the yard, past the darkened greenhouse. “Grace,” Michael said without breaking stride. “I owe you an apology.”
“For what?”
“Basically, for being a dick.” He stared straight ahead, his expression inscrutable. “I shouldn’t have been so suspicious of you. If I hadn’t insisted on drugging you into oblivion, it would have saved a lot of trouble. Maybe even a few lives.”
The pain in his voice wrenched her heart. “Michael, Kaden was right. This isn’t your fault. No one could have stopped what happened. But now, we can make sure it doesn’t happen again.” Grace glanced back at the camp house. “I have to apologize to you, too. I was wrong. You do care about them... about us. I’m sorry for refusing to see that.”
“That’s all right. I understand why you thought what you did.”
Grace looked sidelong at Kendra, who remained grim-faced and determined. Her mother had been unusually helpful since Kaden arrived, and far less abrasive. She couldn’t help suspecting it was an act for Michael’s benefit. But maybe, in her own way, she did care — at least whether Grace lived or died. The woman had seemed genuinely distressed at her entering the burning house.
No time to contemplate the psychology of Kendra now. First, they had to get the hell out of here.
The garage came into view, darkened and silent. It was a one-plus model, with a wide vehicle door and a smaller door for quick entry. Michael reached the building first. He opened the small door, leaned in, switched on a light. “Shit.”
“What? What’s wrong?” Grace looked inside. Tools, workbenches, and boxes lined the left side of the garage. A dark blue cargo van occupied the space to the right, resting on four flat tires. “Oh.”
Michael wandered into the garage, stunned and shaken. “How could this happen? I just took it out a few hours ago.” He approached the van. “I don’t have four spares. Any brilliant ideas?” He crouched to examine the front tire.
Grace and Kendra joined him. Grace moved to the rear of the vehicle and ran a hand along the top of the tire. Her fingers brushed frayed strands of rubber. She stopped, poked at the strands, and discovered a long slit in the surface. They’d been slashed. Deliberately.
“Michael,” she said slowly. “I think we’d better—”
“Hey, freaks. Took you long enough to get here.”
Grace recognized the voice before she found its source. Kyle stood framed in the doorway. He must have been waiting outside. His gaze swept each of them in turn, and settled on Kendra. “You first, I think. All that money, and you never paid me enough.”
Swift movement at his side. A deafening roar erupted in the enclosed space. Kendra slammed back against the van. She hung frozen for an instant, then slid to the floor, leaving a glistening smear along the vehicle’s side door.
Shock robbed Grace of the scream exploding inside her. Kyle stepped forward, and this time raised the gun in plain view. “I warned you before that I’d have to shoot you if you tried to stop us. Now look what you’ve done — you got everyone all riled up and leaving before the party starts. Time to say goodnight, Gracie.”
Grace reacted viscerally. She sent an immense surge of power at the garage wiring. A strident drone sounded. The light bulb flickered rapidly, and shattered. Darkness consumed the room.
No! A male voice in her head. The one from her dreams.
Who are you? she replied instinctively.
The voice didn’t answer.
“Damn it!” Another shot followed Kyle’s epithet. Grace felt the bullet pass inches from her, and heard it punch through the van behind her. She closed her eyes to hide the light, hoping he wouldn’t be able to aim.
Grace, get down! That was Michael.
She dropped to the ground. One hand brushed something warm and firm, motionless. Grace stifled a sob. Kendra. Jesus...
“Michael, Michael. Such an idiot.” Kyle moved cautiously toward them. Gray light, wisps of the moon creeping through the open door, revealed his dim outline. “You’re still dead, even if you manage to get by me. Zane’s on his way.” Kyle pivoted and fired into the dark. The muzzle flash seared negative images in the air. “I saw your little friend crawl back in. Zane wasn’t happy to hear that he managed to survive. So he’s just going to take you all out now.”
Silence replied to his taunts.
Grace. Whatever happens, don’t move.
Light burst in the gloom to Kyle’s right. Michael stood in the center of the glow, silent and furious. Kyle grinned. He raised the gun.
“Idiot.”
He shot, point-blank. Michael evaporated.
“What the—”
Another silhouette loomed behind Kyle, leapt on him, and bore him to the ground. A brief struggle ended with a sharp, meaty thud. Something metal skittered across the floor and hit the far wall.
“Grace,” Michael panted. “We need light. Van’s unlocked. Turn the headlights on... go around the back.”
Grace moved carefully. Using the van for support, she stood and felt around the back, up the side, until she located the front door handle. She pulled it open, fumbled for the headlight knob. They sprang to life. Grace shuffled back the way she’d come and tried not to think about what lay on the other side.
She saw the metal object first: a crowbar, the bend coated in dark, viscous fluid. Michael came into view. He knelt on Kyle’s back, pinning him down. There was no need. Kyle’s skull caved in at the back, misshapen and broken. He wasn’t getting up.
Grace risked a glance alongside the van, and realized Kendra wasn’t either.
“No...” Grace wavered on her feet. Shades of gray swarmed her vision. She pitched forward, unable to stop the descent.
Michael jumped from the body and caught her before she hit the floor.
“Breathe. Grace, honey, you have to breathe. Come on.”
Grace closed her eyes and sucked in a harsh breath. “She’s dead.”
“Yes. I know. Christ...” Michael stiffened. “But we’re not. We have to get to the others. Can you make it back?”
“I will.” Grace drew herself up. “Where should we—”
Run.
The dream voice again. A shiver danced down Grace’s spine. Why? Who are you?
Run, Nephil. He is near. She will come.
Who are you? she insisted.
Silver.
“Oh my God.” Silver wasn’t the angel. He was the monster. The Stalker. Warning her? Why would he do that?
Run!
Michael stared at her in confusion. She caught his gaze, and repeated Silver’s directive.
“Run.”
Chapter 52
The bars blended together over the centuries. Lorin’s sole objectives in entering them were drinks, sex, and kills — not in any particular order. Tonight, no Nephil had presented itself for destruction. Tonight she would play with a human. She never killed human sex partners. They amused her.
Lorin ordered another Corona and surveyed her choices. More than one looked promising. The bartender who brought her drink was a lovely specimen. Even teeth, dimpled chin, muscled arms. Perhaps she would remain until closing, if no others caught her interest.
She brought the beer to her lips and halted. A distant jolt of power tingled her senses, familiar and maddening. The escaped Nephil. The one she’d told Silver to alert her about immediately. It was closer to him than her. He must have felt it.
Silver! How dare you disobey me?
He didn’t respond.
Lorin stood and hurled the bottle across the room. It shattered against the far wall. Jagged shards of clear glass embedded in the plaster. The humans averted their eyes. No one challenged her. Answer me, you filthy, festering, walking plague!
Yes... Lorin...
Pain marked his words. Lorin stalked out of the bar, so she could concentrate on the signal. Crowds of humans tended to muffle power. Outside, she strode down the sidewalk and fumed. Did you not sense it? The Nephil! It’s near you.
I...
Worthless fool! Lorin sought the Nephil again. The power had begun to fade, but she could follow it easily enough, once she moved further from the humans. She would force Silver to take it apart a piece at a time. Apparently, he still hadn’t learned his lesson.
I will fetch it, and bring it to you. Then you can redeem yourself for failing to locate it.
Once again, Silver offered no response. Perhaps he’d passed out from the pain. The image brought a smile to Lorin’s face. She walked faster, eager to begin.
The Nephil’s screams would be music. Beautiful music.
Chapter 53
Grace found her tenth wind somewhere around the time she rounded the greenhouse, and the camp house porch became visible. Michael pounded the ground three steps behind. Almost there. Her mind whirled with a gruesome kaleidoscope of thoughts and images. Near-photographic memories warred with her frantic search for an answer to the crisis at hand.
Where should they go? The main road wasn’t an option — and this was a mountain. The main road was the only road. Zane had a car. She’d seen Kaden’s memories. But if he was an angel, did he need a car? They could take to the woods, face the bears and cougars and Heaven knew what else. How long would they survive? Grace harbored the sinking feeling that sooner or later, they would have to face Zane. How could they beat an angel?
A bizarre answer whispered in her mind. With another angel.
Grace shook her head. They didn’t have an angel handy at the moment. The instant her foot touched the first step, Megan burst through the door, a hinged metal box in her hands. “What happened? Where’s the van? And Kendra?”
Grace stopped short. Michael collided with her. She hit the stairs with a sharp gasp. Michael hauled her up and half-carried her to the porch.
“Tell everyone to get whatever they can carry and get out here.” Michael paused, caught a breath. “We can’t take the van. What’s that?” He nodded at the box.
Megan glanced down, and seemed surprised to find her hands full. “What’s left of the drug,” she said. “Lawrence thought, since it works on the angel part of us, that maybe if we ran across one...”
“It’s worth a try. Here, let me see.”
Megan handed the box to him. He opened it, glanced inside, and put it down next to Grace. A dozen or so filled syringes lay lengthwise and stacked in rows.
“All right. On second thought, you stay out here with Grace. I’ll get the others. Tell me if you see or hear anything at all. Okay?”
Megan nodded solemnly, and Michael dashed inside. The girl crouched beside Grace. “You look awful,” she said. “Grace, what’s going on?”
“Kyle. Shot Kendra.”
“No! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Megan moved toward the steps. “Can you still do that transporter thing? Take me to her. I rested a little. I can probably...”
“Megan.” Grace interrupted, her voice a dull scrape of sound. “Thank you. But even if you were at full strength... you can’t heal the dead.” With distance from the initial shock, her admission drove the point home. Tears slipped from her eyes and bathed her face in reality.
Without a word, Megan dropped and embraced her. Grace allowed herself the luxury of the moment, and then pulled back.
“Kyle slashed the tires on the van. Probably started the fire, too. He’s dead.” Despite the misery feasting on her, a smile crept through. “Michael brained him with a crowbar.”
“Wicked! Wish I could’ve—” Megan stopped abruptly, turned her head, and peered out at the darkened lawn. “Grace.” She choked out the word.
What is it?
If Kyle’s dead... who’s that?
Grace followed her gaze, and spotted the shadowed figure striding rapidly toward them.
Chapter 54
“Hey! You girls okay? Is everyone else here?”
“Lou!” Grace stood, but her tentative smile faded. If Kyle worked for Zane, maybe Lou did, too. Be careful, she told Megan. Watch his hands. She studied them herself. They seemed empty. “How did you get out of there?”
“I, uh... dunno.” He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, rubbed the back of his head. “Somebody clobbered me. I woke up on the back lawn.”
“Kyle.” Grace’s expression darkened. She wanted to resurrect him and kill him all over again. Michael. Lou’s alive. He’s out here.
“Kyle? Why would he...” Lou frowned. “Dawn. Dorinne and Vera. Did they get out?”
“Dawn did,” Grace said gently.
“Oh.”
The door opened. Michael stepped out, a sports bag slung over his shoulder. “Lou. You’re not going to shoot anyone, are you?”
“Not unless you say so, boss.”
“Good.” Michael glanced back into the house. “Let’s go.”
He descended the steps, and the others trooped out. After he brought Lou up to speed, Michael turned to face them. “All right. We’re going to head west, down the mountain. There’s a little tourist town about halfway down. We should be able to rent a couple of cars there. Lawrence, Lou and I can trade off driving. Lawrence?”
Lawrence moved through the gathering and joined them on the ground. “Where are we driving to?”
“I’m not sure yet. Somewhere besides here.”
“Good plan, Michael. But I’m sensing a few flaws.”
The quiet voice came from around the corner of the house. A man in a dark suit stepped into the pool of light cast by the porch bulb. One arm extended, and terminated in a gun. “One, there is nowhere on Earth you can hide from me. And two, I’m already here.”
Grace knew who he was before Michael reacted.
“Zane. You lying son of a bitch.”
Keeping the gun trained on the three men, Zane turned cold blue eyes to the porch. “Why don’t you... children go back inside? I’ll get to you in a few minutes. Don’t bother running.”
Megan sent Grace a terrified glance. What should we do?
