CarnalHealing (9 page)

“So, witch,” he said, purring like a big cat. “I have you.
Now, how shall I kill you?”

Chapter Seven

“But her car’s still here,” Jeff told the nurse manning the
station. “Did you actually see her get into the elevator?”

The nurse shook her head. “No, but she was sound asleep in
the visitors lounge not twenty minutes ago. I’ve only been away from the desk
one time since then, to check on a patient, and I’d just gotten back when you
stopped by.”

How could I have missed her?
Jeff sighed. He knew he
should just go home and catch up with Leonore later. He’d been annoyed when
Leonore hadn’t returned his calls earlier, and the surge of happiness that he’d
experienced when he found out she’d actually come by to see him at work had
caught him completely unaware. What was it about the woman that the mere
thought of seeing her made him feel…what? Giddy?

Something must have shown on his face, because the nurse
smiled and said, “Maybe she stopped at the restroom or something, and was going
up in the elevator while you were coming back down.”

“Wouldn’t you have seen her?” Jeff asked.

The nurse shrugged. “Maybe not, if she was coming from the
direction of the bathrooms. It’s worth a shot.”

Even if this unlikely scenario were true, Leonore would be
long gone by the time Jeff made it back to the top level. “Thanks,” he said,
and headed back to the elevator, where he hit the button for the level where
his own car was parked.

Once behind the wheel, he took out his cell phone and
checked it for new messages. There were none, and he almost punched in Lenore’s
number, but he only had her home phone and, even if she had just left the
hospital, she wouldn’t have had time to get home. Not that he even knew where
she lived.

He slammed a palm against the steering wheel, wincing at the
pain.
Get a grip on your hormones, Jeff. Just because the sex was great
doesn’t mean you have to act like a lovesick teenager.
He put the key into
the ignition and started the engine.

And promptly turned left out of the parking space. Away from
the exit. In the direction of the roof parking where he’d seen Leonore’s car.
Just in case. Shaking his head, he chuckled softly to himself.

“Dr. Carson, you have got it ba-a-a-ad.”

* * * * *

“Why do you want to kill me?” Leonore panted as soon as she
had regained enough breath to speak. “What did I ever do to you?”

“Don’t play ignorant.” Her captor sneered. “It’s not going
to do you any good.” He was no longer looking at her, instead turning his
attention to the garage surrounding them, his expression assessing. Leonore
didn’t like the look of that.

“I’m not playing anything. Until about two minutes ago, I
wasn’t even sure the
Draíodóir
weren’t a myth.”

That got his attention. His head snapped back around toward
Leonore. “You lie, witch. I know exactly what you’re planning.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Leonore replied,
but a seed of doubt started growing in her mind. She
was
planning
something, after all. Something that had everything to do with being a
Leonorean. But how could the
Draíodóir
know anything about her plans for
the equinox or, even if they did, why would they care?

“That will do nicely,” the man said, as if to himself.

“What—” Leonore started to ask but, once again, she felt the
invisible steel band start to tighten around her chest, and her words were cut
off, along with her breath. She was pulled to her feet and, as if pulled by
ropes, started to slide toward the concrete barriers that ringed the parking
garage—barriers that ended at chest height, exposing four or five feet of space
that was open to the night air beyond. As she was lifted from her uselessly
kicking feet and through the air, Leonore suddenly understood what her captor
meant to do.

* * * * *

Even though he fully expected to see the space where
Leonore’s car had been parked sitting empty, Jeff couldn’t help but hope he was
wrong. When he turned the corner and saw the shiny blue car sitting exactly
where he’d last seen it, he blinked, for a moment sure that his wishful
thinking had caused his mind to play tricks on him.

But if her car’s still here, where the hell is she?

Something moved in Jeff’s peripheral vision, and his foot
automatically went to the brake as he searched the shadows to see what had
caught his attention.

Two figures, one impossibly tall, stood near the concrete
and cable barrier that marked the garage’s perimeter. There was something
unnatural about the way the taller one moved. Jeff squinted. Why was it so dark?
The garage was well lit, but something seemed to obscure the beams, as if a
dark veil had been pulled across them.

Finally, his brain started to make sense out of the images
he was seeing. The figure Jeff had thought to be so tall was actually
hovering
above the floor of the garage
. No, he realized, not hovering. It was
floating—moving slowly but inexorably toward the open space that yawned darkly
beyond the lighter surface of the concrete slabs of the barrier.

And it was Leonore.

* * * * *

If Leonore didn’t control her panic, she was going to die.
Unfortunately, every method she’d ever learned for controlling panic started
with taking a deep, calming breath. Which wasn’t an option with the invisible
belt continuing to tighten around her chest.

Get a grip, Leonore. It’s only been a few seconds. You
can hold your breath for a lot longer than this.

The thought helped, a little. Leonore forced her eyes to
stop darting around, looking for a way out that didn’t exist, and concentrated
on the barrier. He was going to lift her up and over it. Could she get a hold
on something, make it more difficult?

She realized she’d been kicking her feet, trying to get a
toehold on the floor of the garage, which was useless because she was hovering
at least a foot above the pavement. Whatever this man was doing to her, Leonore
wasn’t paralyzed. She stopped struggling—what strength she had, she couldn’t
afford to waste.

The barriers appeared to be held in place by cables, which
were attached to concrete pillars that rose between each slab. The cables ran
diagonally across the barriers, crisscrossing when they intersected a matching
set of cables attached to the pillar on the opposite side. At each end, the
ladderlike wires rose at least a foot higher than the barrier. Leonore tried to
gauge the distance—could she grab one?

As she moved closer to the edge, lifting ever higher, she
flexed the fingers of her left hand, but resisted reaching out. If she passed
closely enough to the cables, she might be able to grab one.

Closer…higher…she had to time her movement for exactly the
right moment, or her captor might notice and lift her up and away from any
chance at snagging a cable. Leonore glanced toward the
Draíodóir
, but he
wasn’t looking at her.

She followed the direction of his gaze and, momentarily
forgetting that she couldn’t breathe, tried to gasp. Panic threatened to grip
her again.

A car was bearing down on the man, tires screeching and
powerful engine growling. And behind the wheel, face caught in the watery light
of the September moon, was Jeff Carson.

Something sparkled in the twin beams of Jeff’s
headlights—something that made him think of ropes or cords, but without
substance. Impossible. But, real or not, they extended from the outstretched
hands of the figure on the left, who Jeff could now see was a man. They were
somehow attached to Leonore, encircling her and holding her off the ground and
moving her, inexorably, closer to the edge. Without even touching her, the man
was about to throw Leonore off the roof.

There was no time to make sense of it, no time to do
anything but stop it. Jeff aimed the car at the man and pressed down on the
accelerator. Whatever the man was, he was about to be dead.

A pale face with dark eyes like glittering holes turned to
face Jeff, and he just had time to see the gleaming cords that held Leonore
dissolve like smoke when the front of the car seemed to lift as if shoved back
by a wave of air. The last thing Jeff saw before the car rolled sidewise was
Leonore, tumbling over the barrier and into the void beyond.

The abrupt cessation of the pressure on Leonore’s chest
would have been wonderful, except that it happened simultaneously with the
resumption of gravity. Her left hand, already poised and ready, shot forward
and made painful connection with the row of cables. She grasped one, but knew
even as she felt the cold steel against her fingers that the one-handed grip
wouldn’t be strong enough to hold the full momentum of her weight. The arc of
her descending body snapped her arm up, swung her around, and slammed her chest
against the concrete of the building, jerking her shoulder nearly from its
socket.

The impact would have knocked the wind out of her, except
that she hadn’t actually had time to take a breath yet. Gasping, she scrambled
frantically with her toes. Amazingly, they caught on something that extended
from the exterior wall, taking some of her weight. She reached up with her
right hand, just as the squealing sound of tires turned into a grinding,
screaming cacophony of glass breaking and metal being crushed against concrete.
The building vibrated, as from an impact.

Jeff!
Her groping right hand found and grasped a
second cable and, with her face pressed against the back side of the barrier,
she clung to the wall like a wounded spider.

The airbags, which had deployed the second the roof of the
car hit the floor, flopped over Jeff’s face, and he nearly choked on the
residue of the powder that clouded the air and stung his eyes. He pushed the
deflated bag aside, then reached for the buckle of the seat belt that held him,
suspended, upside down. He automatically pressed the other hand against the
roof of the car, barely noticing the sting as his fingertips and palm
encountered the glass fragments that rested there.

Had Leonore really gone over the edge? It had all happened
so fast. He pulled himself through the window and onto the floor of the garage,
then up on his hands and knees. Something sharp scraped his skin, right through
his trousers, but he didn’t have time to worry about that right now. If there
was any chance she was still alive…

He peered cautiously over the bottom of the car, quickly
spotting the man who had…done what? Pointed at the heavy Volvo and made it blow
back like chaff in the wind?

The strange darkness that had obscured Jeff’s vision when
he’d first turned onto the roof was gone now, and he could see the man clearly
in the glow of the garage lights. He had one hand against the concrete barrier
closest to him, and he seemed to be leaning against it. The bastard looked
winded, as if he was panting. Maybe moving full-sized cars around like toys
took a lot out of him.
Good.

The man wasn’t looking at Jeff, but rather at the spot where
Leonore had disappeared.

No, not quite disappeared. Jeff’s heart gave a great leap in
his chest as he made out something white, just at the top edge of the barrier,
where the cables that held the massive concrete slabs steady were attached to
supporting pillars. It was a hand, fingers wrapped tightly around the
inch-thick rope of twisted wire. And, as Jeff looked, a second hand appeared,
then grasped a higher diagonal rung of cable.

Leonore was alive. Alive, and climbing.

The ledge under her stuck out no more than four or five
inches, and it was a good two feet below the floor of the garage’s roof. Now that
Leonore had a cable in each hand, it was wide enough to abate the sickening
certainty of a fall, but not enough to give her the leverage to easily pull
herself up far enough to see over the barrier. But the thought of what the
Draíodóir
had done to Jeff—might be doing to him at this very second—put strength into
Leonore’s arms that she didn’t know she had. Her shoulder screamed in protest,
but the adrenaline that sang in her veins, so like the familiar buzz of magic,
enabled her to ignore the pain as she pulled herself up with her right hand
enough to loosen the left and reach for a higher cable.

Another breath, and another cable. Leonore heard a car horn
blare and glanced down. There was traffic on the streets eight stories below,
but she doubted anyone would look up and see her. She refocused on the cables.
One more, and Leonore would be able to reach the top edge of the barrier. She
was tensing to reach for it when a voice colder than the steel and concrete to
which Leonore clung froze her.

“So, witch, you’ve got something in common with your
ancestor after all.” The
Draíodóir’
s laugh made nausea rise in Leonore’s
throat. He went on, “She always had some cunt-addled man skulking around,
willing to risk his life for another chance to stick his cock into her.”

“Fuck you.” Not a very creative insult, but the best Leonore
could come up with under the circumstances. She looked up at her hands, knowing
they were in his line of sight. Why didn’t he just flick her off the side of
the building like a speck of dust? He would surely do so if she pulled herself
up into full view. Instead of climbing, she cautiously moved the uppermost hand
down onto a lower cable. Instantly, the cable she had released broke apart with
a mighty
twang.
As the tension on the ends released, they curled back on
themselves, one jagged end flying past her face so close that, for a moment,
she thought it had cut her.

Quickly, she moved down another rung.

Z-z-zing!
The next cable split, and a stab of pain
told Leonore that some of her hair had been caught between twisted wires as the
end whizzed past. The slab that the cables held in place shifted about an inch,
and her stomach clenched as she realized what the
Draíodóir
was doing.
She looked frantically around for something to grab, other than the cables.
There was nothing and, once they were gone, there was no way she’d be able to
balance on the narrow ledge.