Ascension (17 page)

“I figured we might need them,” Geoff said.

“But how’d you— Never mind.” Kyana shrugged. It didn’t matter how Geoff had called for the minions. She’d stopped guessing about Geoffrey’s mysterious ways a long time ago. It was a handy trait at times—and since this was one of those times, she wasn’t about to push the issue.

“We don’t need—”

“Yes, we do,” Kyana interrupted Ryker. “We’ll need more eyes if we want to get to the police station and back without Hank losing vital bits.”

Hank’s eyes bulged. “I vote for taking them with us.”

“How the hell do you do anything with so many bodies around all the time?”

“They’re coming,” Kyana said, waiting for Hank to regain his composure after having all his energy sapped from the portal. “They’re silent, Ryker, and even though they have their idiotic moments, they can be very useful.”

“We ready to do this?” Geoff asked, pulling his hands out of his pockets.

Kyana nodded, checking each member of the group to make sure they too were ready. Everyone stared at Hank.

His shoulders were pulled back, his jaw clamped with obvious determination. He might be scared, but he wasn’t going to wuss out this time. She watched as he reached beneath his shirt and whipped out a pistol. His beefy hand gripped his gun like his very life depended on it.

They’d managed to take his shotgun from him before entering the Fates’ cave. No one had thought to check him for another weapon. Someone should take the useless gun from him before he hurt himself. She could do it, would do it if she had to, but she’d pushed their new friend pretty hard . . . and they hadn’t even begun the fun stuff yet.

When no one else seemed inclined to broach the subject of turning over the pistol, she sighed. “Didn’t I prove that thing’s totally useless for what we’re up against?”

Hank nodded.

She held out her hand. “Trust us to keep you safe.”

His hand tightened around the weapon. “Forget it. It may not kill you, but I know it slows some of you down. It’ll give me a fighting chance if you’re not as good as he says you are.”

“Oh, I’m that good. You can keep the gun for now if it makes you feel better, but if it becomes a problem I’ll take it away and beat you with it.”

“I’m really starting to hate you.”

“Then I’m doing my job.” And maybe, with a little luck from the gods, she’d be able to keep him alive. “Where’s the police department?”

“Over on King Street. We can drive there in a couple minutes.”

They all shook their heads. A vehicle would draw more attention than their little scouting party could handle. Kyana mapped out the fastest path in her head. They’d have to stick to side streets and backyards. It wouldn’t be an easy stroll. “We’ll have to hoof it.”

Ryker nodded, Hank looked like he was going to be sick all over his shoes, and Geoffrey was staring at Kyana’s neck with more than passing interest. She shifted uncomfortably, wondering what the hell he was looking at. Turning her gaze away, she led the way to the gate, but was forced to let Ryker and Hank move past her when Geoffrey grabbed her arm. His fingers bit into the tender flesh.

“What?” she hissed, easing herself out of his grip.

His jaw clenched. “What the bloody hell happened to your neck? Is that a sun blister?”

She followed slowly behind Ryker and Hank as they wended across the fort’s courtyard. “I’m fine, Geoffrey. Look, it’s almost gone.”

She stretched the collar of her vest down to offer him a better look as he strolled beside her.

He peered down at her throat, his gaze narrowing. “Why didn’t a Healer tend you?”

“How do you know one didn’t?” Hell, Kyana could barely see the pink of her skin anymore. What Ryker had done for her had been better than anything a Healer could have done.

He leaned toward her and inhaled deeply. “Because if they had, you’d smell like lavender. Not shampoo.”

“Since when are you so well versed in herbal remedy?”

“I hooked up with a Mystic a couple years back.” Geoff shuddered. “I learned a lot about their potions.”

“Oh?” Kyana laughed. “What exactly did you learn?”

“Most importantly is not to piss them off or they will fix things you’d never considered broken.”

Just thinking about poor Geoffrey spending an entire week without one of his constant hard-ons made her chuckle. “Taught you a valuable lesson, did it?”

He nodded. “Damned right. Don’t screw around with people who can screw around with your ability to screw around. Thank the gods it was only temporary, but I’ve sworn off Mystics and Witches.”

“Even Haven?”

He grinned. “I wouldn’t go that far. If I could just get her to lose that prick Drake, I’d make her purr. Now ’nough dodging me, lass. How’d you heal from the sun?”

Of its own accord, her gaze drifted to Ryker. She snapped it away the instant she realized what she’d done, but it was too late. Geoffrey had seen.

“Ah. Friendlier than I thought, the two of you. Fed you, did he?”

“Geoffrey . . . mind your own business.”

Kyana’s dismissal seemed to work. Geoffrey grinned and nodded at Ryker, who’d slowed his pace to glare over his shoulder at them. “I think your boy toy is jealous.”

“He’s not my boy toy.”

“But you want him to be.”

Kyana elbowed him in the ribs and quickened her steps to avoid his probing gaze. The sentinels acknowledged their group, wished them a successful hunt, then slowly lowered the old drawbridge. She positioned Hank between herself and Geoff, then instructed the two pairs of minions to lag behind slightly. If anything tailed them, they’d know it.

As they made their way toward Castillo Drive, she scanned the shadows and sniffed the air. Most of the bodies had been cleaned off the road, but the lingering stench of death still mingled with the scent of the bay. She glanced over her shoulder. Ryker and Geoff were also scouting the roads ahead. When they’d reached the same conclusion that, for now, they were alone on the streets, Kyana set off at an easy jog.

Adrenaline pumped through her blood, warming her chilled skin. Her senses on high alert, she scanned every shadow and darkened window. Anyone, human or non, was the enemy. They couldn’t let their guard down.

She stopped at an intersection and pulled the troupe into the shadows. Squatting, she watched the darkness. Their target was almost within sight. However, the fine hairs on the back of her neck were tingling. She strained her ears, but the only sounds she detected were Hank’s labored breaths.

“What is it?” Hank’s whisper sounded like a shout in the stillness.

Kyana raised her head, sniffed the air. Rot and decay burned her nose. “Things are about to get interesting.”

“I don’t see anything,” Geoff said, his voice barely a whisper on the wind.

“Me either,” Ryker admitted. “Do we risk it?”

“See what?” Hank asked.

“Leeches.” Kyana couldn’t see them either, but she could sure as hell smell them. She looked at Ryker. “They’re looking for something.”

His silver eyes swirled. “Or someone.”

Stay and fight, or run like hell? If not for Hank, Kyana would have opted for a good fight. She owed them an ass-kicking for the knife wound still itching her ribs. Not to mention the burns. But now wasn’t the time for revenge.

“Ryker, if they make it by our minions, keep them off our asses.”

Then she sent Farrel and Crag in one direction and Larkin and Cahir in the other.

Satisfied, Kyana fisted her hand in Hank’s sleeve. “Stay close, don’t make a sound, and you might just live to see your son again.”

Chapter Seventeen

K
yana dragged Hank behind her as she took off toward King Street. They made it the last hundred yards to the police station undetected. She scanned the single-story building. Every possible entrance—be it door or window—would bring anyone in hearing distance down on their heads if she broke through them. She motioned to Geoff to guard the human, then swung her body onto the roof and pressed her belly to the shingles.

Not wanting to attract any attention, she slid her way from one end of the building to the other, then flipped over the side to examine the back windows. Just as she’d hoped, one was broken. There was hardly a building left in the city that hadn’t been broken into or out of by either terrified humans or hunting Dark Breeds. The police station seemed to be no exception.

She lifted herself through the tiny opening and into a bathroom, where her boots crunched against broken glass. Making her way quickly through the building, she searched for any signs of movement before heading back to the front door and unlocking it from the inside.

As soon as the door popped open, she reached out and grabbed Hank by his shirt, yanking him inside. “What do you need?”

Hank pointed down the long, dark hallway. “The computers are that way.”

He shuffled his feet down the dark hall as he was told. When he entered the large room filled with quiet computer banks, he looked at Kyana. “I have to power up the equipment. It’s going to create quite a glow.”

Just lovely. They’d made it inside undetected, now the light would attract every species of bogeyman roaming the streets. “Find something to cover the windows.”

Hank picked his way across the room. “Or we could just close the blinds.”

“Not dark enough. Trust me, you don’t want them to know we’re in here.”

Ryker thrust a pile of blankets into Kyana’s arms. “I think he gets it.”

“Where’d you get these?” Kyana asked.

He pointed over his shoulder, where half a dozen sleeping bags and kerosene lamps lay in a pile.

She pawned the blankets off on Geoffrey, and the three men made short work of turning the room pitch black while Kyana double-checked the closed offices for any signs of survivors or Dark Breeds she might have missed on her first pass.

When she returned to the guys, the room was bathed in total darkness. Though she still didn’t like their chances of remaining undetected with the extra light, she had no choice but to give her okay. They clicked on a desk lamp and left the overhead lights off.

Hank rubbed his hands together, then began pushing buttons. Electronic equipment whirred to life. Monitors flickered on. Green lights glowed. Kyana cupped her ears, the intense whistle of radio waves so close to her head making her eyes throb. She backed into the hallway. Zeus, she hated electronics.

After several long minutes, Hank leaned back in his chair. “There ya go.”

Breaths held, everyone but Kyana moved forward. She could almost taste roasted traitor on her tongue. “Who does it belong to?”

“I don’t know. It’s running now.”

“What? I thought that thing read the print and ba-da-bing, we have the owner.”

Hank shook his head. “Only on television. It takes time to run through all the databases. And then there’s still no guarantee we’ll know the owner.”

“Well, how long does this take?”

Even in the darkened room, Kyana could see the color drain from Hank’s face. “It could take hours . . . but more likely days.”

The tickle of approaching dawn penetrated the dim room. Kyana could shift if the sun rose. Geoffrey could not. No way was she going to let him get trapped in here until it cycled back to nightfall.

“We don’t have hours, and we certainly don’t have days. We need this information now so we can get out of here.”

“There’s nothing more I can do but wait.” Hank stood, his knees popping. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Stop the scan,” Ryker said, rubbing his eyes.

“What? Why?” Frustration built in Kyana’s chest, and she wanted to lash out and smash the glass monitors. “We need to give this a chance.”

“Stop the scan,” he repeated, directing his gaze at Hank. “Tell us what equipment you need. We’re taking it with us.”

“Taking it where, exactly?” Geoffrey asked, leaning his hip against the metal desk beside him.

“Below. Marcus has a television, so we know electronic equipment will work in Spirits. Even if we have to use magic to power it up, we know it can work.” Ryker rubbed his forehead as though trying to scrub away a headache. “Listen, this thing might have to run for days. We can’t leave it here and chance someone, something, shutting it down, or this place getting ransacked. We can’t ask Hank to stay here for days and risk his life more than he has already. If we have to leave it running and leave Hank in charge of it, we take both him
and
the equipment to safety.”

His dictatorial tone left no room for argument. Since he wasn’t discarding the fingerprint idea, Kyana refrained from pointing out that he wasn’t in charge.

“How’re we going to get it back to the fort?” Geoffrey wore the faint trace of a grin, as though he thought Ryker had lost his mind. “I’m good, but even I don’t have a hundred arms to tote all of this and still help protect the human. None of us do.”

Ryker made his way to the door. He eased it open, allowing predawn light to filter in through the crack. In a loud whisper, he called for Crag. Kyana could hear nothing but their muffled conversation, and then the door closed and Ryker returned.

“Taken care of,” he said, bending to help Hank unplug a computer tower. He looked over his shoulder at Geoffrey. “We’ll tote this stuff to the door. I want you on the other side ready to take it to the car.”

“What car?” Kyana demanded.

“The car Crag is finding for us. This time, we’ll take our chances in exchange for speed. We’ll drive the damned thing right up the drawbridge if we have to, but we should be able to outrun whatever might be stupid enough to chase us.”

Kyana bit back a groan. Okay, so truthfully, she had discounted a vehicle as the method to get to the police department because it
would
have been loud and noisy. But she’d also discounted it because she really didn’t do well with motion sickness. Charon’s ferry made her queasy. She’d been inside a car only once, and when the mad, crazy taxi driver finally dropped her off at her destination he’d charged her extra to reupholster his cab. Three plane rides in her entire existence had also proved to be very bad ideas.

This did not brighten her mood.

“Can’t we find a wheelbarrow or something?” she asked, only half joking.

Geoffrey watched her, his faint grin now a full-blown smirk. He knew her problem, had been by her side on one of those fateful plane rides. “Just aim out the window, Kyana. These pants are damned hard to clean.”