Incubus (13 page)

“No police,” she whispered. “It'll be just the two of us.”

“So, you just want me to wait until you're ready for me?”

“The alternative is that you come in here right now and kill me. That's not much of a challenge.”

Take the bait. Take the bait. Come on. Take it.

His voice dropped to a breathy whisper, as if he were holding the phone too close to his mouth. “I'm ready to get this going, now. You're making it very hard for me to wait.”

“On the other hand, I won't be much fun if I'm dead.”

He laughed again. “Oh, all right. I'm listening.”

“Give me that head start you promised. Give me three days to get out of here. I just want to take this fight where we won't be disturbed. And I give you my word, when you catch up with me I'll meet you face-to-face. No more running.”

That much she meant. She was finished running from him. This ended now. But she had to get him away from here, so he couldn't use her loved ones against her.

He didn't say anything for a moment.

Caroline lowered her voice to a submissive purr. “Powerful men have their own rules. I can play by your rules, Burke. Give me three days, and I'll prove it to you. I'll make this an experience you won't forget.”

Or survive.

“I'll give you until sundown. I'll call you. If you don't answer, I'll assume you've gone back on your word and the people you love won't survive the night. But if you can show me you can be trusted to keep our bargain,
you can take comfort in knowing all your loved ones will still be alive when this is over.”

He hung up.

Caroline let her hand dangle at her side. The phone slipped from her shaking fingers and clattered on the floor. Sundown?

How far could she get by then? Not nearly far enough away to keep her friends safe, if Burke decided to use them as leverage. She'd have to choose her battleground somewhere close.

And then she'd make him wish he'd never been born.

 

Gasping for air, Meical swayed to a halt in the darkness and braced himself against a tree to rest, almost too weak to stand. Dawn was only moments away. Something in the way his flesh stung at the thought of it told him he probably wouldn't survive it this time. He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, the Alchemist stood on the path ahead of him.

Neshi wore the half-amused, half-deadly look on his face that always prefaced something unpleasant. “Do you think you can just walk away like this? Abandon your prey to others?”

Meical poised for a fight, weaving on his feet. He ground his teeth together, nearly choking on the words. “If I have to become her worst nightmare to survive, then I'd as soon rot. I am the
last
person she needs.”

“You're quite wrong. She needs you now more
than ever. But apparently, I'm going to have to prove it to you.”

Meical growled. “I'm warning you. I'm finished. It's over.”

The ancient vampire quirked a brow at him, and the corner of his mouth twitched. Meical never felt the blow.

 

Nothing had surprised him in at least a millennium. Not like this. Badru hung in the air above the forest and watched Benemerut shoulder his ill-gotten creation and vanish out of sight, as oblivious to Badru's proximity as a fledgling.

What could possibly account for this sudden and atypical lack of caution in one so ancient?

Moments ago, something had distracted Benemerut so completely that he'd let his powerful shield fall, allowing his signature vibration to break from the mass of mortal life like the moon broke from the clouds on a clear night. Badru had found him within seconds.

Why? He tapped into the age-old connection that hummed between them, taking care to avoid detection, and found Benemerut alight with some newfound discovery. He was so utterly engrossed by it that he didn't even feel Badru's presence.

This horrific enthusiasm did not bode well. It could only mean Benemerut was contemplating something worse than the abominations he'd already committed.

And if he is, whose fault is that?

Gods, that voice…honey-sweet with possession and soft with reprimand… Who was she? Badru spun in a
circle, looking for her, turning the night upside down to find her.

The breeze lifted his curls and caressed his cheek, bringing him fragrances he hadn't smelled since his mortal youth.

Who are you?
he demanded.
Show yourself to me. Now.

You know me. I called to you long ago, in happier times for both of us. Have you been nightbound so long that you cannot remember the warmth of Osiris rising in the east and the rhythm of the Nile coursing through your soul?

The scent of incense and the hush of murmured prayers enveloped Badru, as powerful to him now as in the hours he'd spent prostrate on the cool stone of the temple floor, surrounded by the sacred cats of Bast. How he'd pleaded with the goddess Bast to grace him with a sense of direction and duty like Benemerut had. Badru swallowed a bitter taste at the back of his throat. Tears burned his eyes.

Do you remember what else you asked of me?
Bast whispered.

Badru closed his eyes and nodded, as consumed with her presence now as he had been that night—his last night as a mortal.
I asked you to show me a way to serve you. I asked you to make me yours forever.

And what did I tell you?

To remain with you for another hour, there in the temple. But…my friends came and…they found me there…

And they were intent on their mischief that night, off
to meet a passing caravan of travelers outside of town. Magicians, they said. Seers and sages who could work forbidden wonders before your very eyes.

They dared me to come with them. They said I was a coward if I didn't.

And you didn't have the humility to remain with me. So you went. And that night, the “magicians” worked their dark miracle for you, to be sure.
You
were their forbidden wonder. Now we will see if you have the patience, at last, to bide with me, or if you will turn your back on me as you did that night.

It's too late for me. This hunger will destroy me. Benemerut will go the same way. I intend to see an end to both of us before that moment comes. He will pay for what he has done.

What
he
has done? The original crime was yours. This you know. You took everything from him. In my eyes, you are the author of all his wrongdoing.

What about his “experiments”? I didn't set him on that path. Better that he should cease to exist than go on with his transgression.

You would do well to take a closer look at this “transgression” of his. There is honor in Grabian, and the woman Grabian loves is kind and brave. She has shown herself capable of generosity toward those who are beloved by me.

Badru caught sight of a small black cat meandering closer. Its gold eyes twinkled in the darkness like holy embers.

I have appeared to each of them in my own way,
Bast went on.
I have tested them and found them worthy
of life and happiness, just as Benemerut is worthy of forgiveness.

Bast's hand came to rest on the crown of Badru's head, soft and soothing. The small black cat blinked at him in the darkness.

Forgiveness? Never. Please. You are my last hope for justice.

But I am his last hope for mercy. Go now. Keep an eye on him, but do him no harm. I need him. And I will not suffer my plans to be undermined.
Badru sighed.
I make no promises. For now, he is safe, but when the moment comes, I will do what I must.

He rose in the air, floating along above the treetops in the direction Neshi had taken, and vanished.

 

Caroline stared into her coffee and gave John and Millie time to think. She'd offered them no explanations about why she had to leave. It was a lot to expect of them to just take her dog and not ask questions, but the less they knew, the safer they'd be.

Sunlight poured through the cream-colored curtains of their familiar kitchen, making everything feel right and normal. The light brought out the silver in Millie's auburn hair and the lines in her roseate face. Caroline loved the vibrations she got from Millie. She was the Cosmic Mother type.

She hadn't realized until now, how much she would miss Millie's company, or how much she ached to stay here, with these two dear people who cared about her.
Their friendship was a luxury that had made the insanity of the past few months easier to bear.

“But where will you go?” Millie asked.

“I can't really say,” Caroline answered with a quick smile. “I don't want to be around people right now. You know I'm so messed up. I need to get away. I just need you to look after Dash while I'm gone. It could be two weeks. Maybe less.”

John's face was ruddier than usual from sleep, but his clear blue eyes were as sharp as always. “I don't have to know what you've been through to realize you need protection. Stay here with us. Let me go get the sheriff.”

She stood up and kissed his cheek. “Big mistake.”

When Dash rose to follow her out, Caroline bent and cradled the shepherd's head in her hands. “You have to stay here, baby.”

“Hold on, Caroline,” John murmured. “If we could give you someplace to go, somewhere you'd feel safe, would you take it?”

“No, because then you'd know where I am,” she replied.

“Forget that for now. Answer my question.”

She didn't dare. “I think I'd just better go.”

“Now, just wait.” John turned to Millie. “What do you think, honey? Your family's old place?”

“I think Caroline has to be the one to decide that.” Millie turned to Caroline with a hopeful smile. “Our old house is only a short way from here, but it's sitting on five acres of woodland, and no one ever goes out there. Mama moved out last month to live in Glenmore
Senior Lodge, just down the road from John's clinic. But she had me keep the utilities on in case she doesn't like Glenmore and wants to come home again. You'd be comfortable and safe there, and no one would be the wiser.”

It was so very tempting, not to leave John and Millie behind. But anyone who knew her could be used as hostages to find her. She couldn't stand the thought of putting them in danger like that.

Millie reached across the table and took Caroline's hand. “If we don't try to help you, we'll regret it for the rest of our days.”

Caroline's face flushed warm, and she placed her hand over Millie's. “The farther away I can get from here, the better.”

“Not necessarily,” John said. “Not if someone's after you, and someone obviously is.”

“I can't tell you—”

He cut her off with a wave of his hand. “Just hear me out. If you're on the run, it's not how far you can get that matters, it's how unpredictable you can be. The last thing anyone would expect you to do in this situation is stay put.”

She had to admit, it made sense in a typical John Calvin way. But if she was any kind of friend to them, she'd leave. She shook her head. “I can't risk it.”

Millie squeezed her hand. “I can't stand the thought of you being out there on your own, dealing with something dangerous. At least stay somewhere within reach.”

John nodded. “Like Millie's old place. The sheriff
could get to you in about six and a half minutes. Come on, honey, it just makes sense if you're in some kind of trouble. You don't have to be alone.”

Alone. Was she strong enough to live on the run and face possible death in places where not a soul would even know what happened to her? If she stayed here and Rivera's men caught up with her, she had a better chance at survival than she would on her own. And if they killed her, at least she'd die where she had been happy, where people knew her, where she felt like she had had a home.

Maybe if she stayed in the area, but didn't make contact with anyone, and let a little time go by, and stayed out of sight for a while longer…

She met their waiting, hopeful gazes. “If I agree, you absolutely cannot tell a single soul where I am. That goes for Meical, too.”

John gave her a chiding grin. “Whatever you say. But that boy's head over heels in love with you, and if he takes ‘goodbye' for an answer, I'll be surprised.”

“Just promise me you won't tell him anything about this,” she said. “And under no circumstances can you contact me.”

Millie smiled. “We won't, if you promise to let us know somehow if you need anything.”

Caroline nodded. “It's a deal.”

John set his cup aside and stood up. “Millie, call the office and ask Tabby to reschedule my morning appointments.” He smiled at Caroline. “Got something for you, kiddo. Give me a second to go upstairs and get it, and then I'll help you pack up and get relocated.”

John left the kitchen.

Caroline turned to Millie. “What's going on?”

“We've never had children of our own, you know,” she said. “You're the closest thing to a daughter we'll ever have.”

John came back in carrying an elongated case in his hands. It was big enough to hold a violin or long-stemmed roses.

He balanced the case on one arm and thumbed the brass closure open. “We've been meaning to give this to you for two months, but we weren't sure if it was the right time.”

As he opened the case slowly, Caroline felt the rush of his angst, the hope that she would accept their gift, and her throat tightened up so hard she couldn't speak. Then she saw what lay inside, and she couldn't stop the tears from coming.

She reached into the case and ran her hand over the smooth, skin-toned calf of the prosthetic leg. From the brochures they'd handed out to her at the hospital during her recovery, she knew it had cost at least fifteen thousand. How many people in her situation longed for one of these and couldn't afford it?