Revelations: Book One of the Lalassu (9 page)

FRIDAY

Chapter Fourteen

“Michael?” As soon as Martha opened the door, her despair hit Michael like a physical blow. Her red and swollen eyes and scratchy voice told of a long night of crying.

“What’s wrong, Martha?” he asked gently, shoring up his barriers to keep her emotions from battering him.
Had there been another episode?
He couldn’t hear anything from Bernie.

“I should have called to cancel the session but…” Fresh tears and exhaustion welled up in Martha’s eyes. “I made a horrible mistake. They took her.”

“Who? Expanding Horizons? So quickly?” Michael’s heart sank. He’d known about the meeting yesterday afternoon but hadn’t expected things to move so quickly. It took time to prepare to transfer a patient between legitimate therapists and facilities—time he’d counted on. He and Dani were meeting after his lunch shift today. He’d been so sure he would be able to do anything with a genuine superhero at his side.

“I was so tired and worn out, and then the man from the center came,” Martha sobbed. “He told me everything would be okay and they’d help Bernie and I trusted him. It suddenly seemed like the only option. I signed the papers.”

“And they took her right away?” Michael couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It had to be a mistake. He must have misunderstood.

“They said a clean break was best, and that I was having too much trouble with her. They took her with them, and she was screaming… oh God, I can still hear her in my head. I’m so sorry, baby.” Martha broke down, sagging onto her knees with her fists tucked tightly against her belly.

Michael stepped inside and closed the door to give Martha her privacy. He wanted to comfort her and give her a shoulder to cry on, but he didn’t dare touch her. Even from a distance, her emotions threatened to bring him to his knees. “What happened next?”

“That night, I knew I’d made a horrible mistake. I called them and said I’d changed my mind. They said I couldn’t, that I’d signed away my legal rights,” Martha choked out. “I threatened to call the police, and then there was a lawyer at the door with all these papers showing that it wasn’t safe for Bernie here. They said they had evidence of abuse and neglect.”

“But that can’t be true,” Michael blurted, horrified. Martha was the most loving parent he’d ever known. She was devoted to her daughter.

“He had police reports and warnings from social services. I’ve never seen any of them, but he showed them to a judge and got an injunction or something to put Bernie in their care. I’m not even allowed to call her. What can I do?” She looked at him with terrible hope dawning in her eyes.

Her hope made Michael want to curse himself as a fraud. He’d known, but he’d wanted to protect his secret and so he hadn’t told her. He’d gambled on having more time, but Bernie was the one who lost. She was trapped with them.

He kept his voice calm and authoritative. Martha needed the security and comfort of someone to lean on, and he had no intention of letting her or her daughter fall. “Martha, they can’t do this. It’s not legal. You need to call the police. Ask to speak to Detective Joe Cabrera. He’s a friend of mine. He’ll help you, I promise.”

“I don’t even know if she’s okay.” The quiet desperation in her plea broke his heart.

“Listen to me. Detective Joe Cabrera. Talk to him. I’m going to go to Expanding Horizons right now. Maybe they’ll let me see her.”

“Tell her I miss her and that I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever it takes to get her back.”

“I know, and she knows it, too. We’ll both do whatever it takes.” Cold determination gripped his spine, tightening his jaw and shoulders. It couldn’t be a coincidence that his flashes had led him to Dani. Her brothers had been taken and now Bernie, too. There must be a connection between both abductions, and he knew where to start looking.

The address on the brochure wasn’t far—twenty minutes outside the Perdition limits, between Perdition and New York. But he’d need an excuse to visit.

A quick stop at the local drug store and he bought what he needed: a tiny plush bear. He ripped off the tags and hastily used some dust from the parking lot to dull the newness of the fur. A simple explanation, close to the truth: he was Bernie’s therapist, and he wanted her to have her favorite therapy reward—plausible and unlikely to be checked on.

Expanding Horizons gleamed in aristocratic isolation on a broad and carefully manicured lawn. The grounds were precisely dotted with trees and flowerbeds, all according to a prestigious landscaper’s vision. It intimidated visitors, like a sour and domineering old lady draped in lace.

Save the girl
. It was always so simple in comic books. A costume, courage, and some witty dialogue always opened doors.
Maybe I should have worn a cape.
Michael doubted it would have helped. The center’s money showed in subtle touches: tall windows showcasing the grounds, crystal vases of flowers on the low tables, and solid wood furnishings instead of cheap pressboard, all designed to reassure and impress.

Every inch of it was a lie. Whatever they wanted from children like Bernie, it wasn’t to make them better. As he tried to persuade the receptionist to let him past the lobby, the coldness and detachment of the place seeped through his skin so strongly that he couldn’t believe other people wouldn’t notice it.

“I’m sorry, who are you again?” The receptionist asked, her clothes carefully tailored and her black hair trimmed in a precise bob. Her expression clearly said she had more important work to get to.

“My name is Michael Brooks. I’ve been working with Bernadette as her behavioral therapist since she was five. We’ve made a lot of strides in her ability to distinguish between her hallucinations and reality.” He gave her his most charming smile, hoping it would work.

“I’m sure we have all your reports—” she began, trying to dismiss him.

“Actually, because of how quickly Bernadette transferred, I didn’t get a chance to complete my end-of-treatment report. I hoped to speak to the doctors here to explain our process.” He tried to appear innocent and eager as he held up the tiny bear. “And I wanted to give her this.”

He sensed a slight softening of the receptionist’s icy attitude, but the battle wasn’t over. “She’s with our doctors right now. I can’t disturb a therapy session.”

So much for his vague plan of smuggling Bernie out or at least passing on her mother’s message. But if he could get inside, maybe he could find another way. “It was her favorite. Could I leave it in her room, maybe with a note?”
Come on. Be a human being.

She bit her lip, uncertain. Maybe his mental urging tipped the scales, but he could sense the decision coming as her inner conflict settled. “I’m not supposed to… but I don’t see how leaving a note could hurt. I’ll have to escort you, though.”

He agreed without further negotiation and took a moment to scribble a quick note on a sheet of paper. He wished he could tell her that he was going to rescue her, but with no idea of who else would see it, he had to keep it vague.
Hang in there, Bernie. EIEIO —Michael.

Using a keycard, the receptionist unlocked the doors to the main facility. The reassuring touches of home vanished on the far side. The hallways were stark white, gleaming with a plastic sheen. Large whiteboards with chart information hung beside each door. No art sullied the purity of the walls. No toys littered the floor. No laughter.

No sound of any kind, in fact. Michael’s fingers tightened around the bear. Everything outside was muffled, as if it had vanished, trapping everyone inside. He gulped for breath before forcing himself to present a calm façade. This was his only chance to gather information directly from the source.

“This is Bernadette’s room.” The receptionist indicated the dull gray door to her right. Michael’s grateful smile to her was not returned. Instead she glared angrily, clearly regretting her brief lapse of resolve.

Pushing open the door, he tried not to show his dismay. It looked like a prison cell: a narrow cot in one corner with a thin mattress and dull gray blanket and pillow, a toilet and sink barely obscured behind a privacy curtain. Bernadette’s favorite doll, Molly, perched on the bed, her bright blue yarn hair and red grin a stark contrast to the muted colors around her.

Lowering his defenses, Michael put the bear beside Molly, letting his fingers brush against the blanket. Immediately an image of Bernie flashed into his mind, knees drawn up and rocking back and forth, eyes wide with terror. Blurry-faced men in white coats were speaking near her. He tried to listen, but the words blurred together. One approached her with a syringe filled with pink fluid. It burned as it went into her arm.

Blinking to clear his head, he composed his features into a pleasant mask. “Thanks.” He tried to smile, but his cheeks were weighed down by what he’d found. It was one thing to suspect they were torturing the children in their care. It was another to feel it being done to a child he knew and cared for.

“I’ll walk you out.” It was not an offer.

Before leaving, he let his fingers trail along the markers lying in the whiteboard tray. He got a sense of excitement and triumph but no images. But it was enough: whatever they thought they might get out of Bernie, they wanted it badly. And they believed they were going to get it.
Hold on Bernie. I’ll get you out. I promise.

Chapter Fifteen

Grumbling at the morning sun poking above the horizon, Dani knocked on a nondescript door in an industrially decorated apartment building. There was absolutely nothing to distinguish it from any other apartment in the city. Only a few
lalassu
knew about it, although they had all heard about the legend who lived there, a man whose talents were whispered around the world.

Inside her bag was sheaf of paper, lightly speckled with blood. Chomp had not been entirely forthcoming when she’d cornered him in his apartment—a situation that suited her mood just fine. The papers held the original ad asking for military veterans, as well as the false service records that Chomp had created for her brothers. She’d gotten the information she needed, and he would be sitting on an extra-soft cushion for a few days, preferably while he thought hard about concepts like respect and keeping his damn observations about her body to himself.

The door opened, revealing a giant of a man with a shaved head decorated with tribal tattoos. “Dani. Come in.”

“Vapor,” she said, nodding in greeting. He wasn’t someone to surprise in a dark alley. Tall, powerfully built with multiple piercings in his lips, nose, and ears, he practically screamed “thug-for-hire.” Yet Dani had never seen him hurt or even threaten anyone. His passion was his machines. He’d worked with her family for over four decades but still appeared to be in his twenties. She didn’t know how old he actually was, but perpetual youth wasn’t his only gift. He found patterns in data and remembered everything he saw, heard, or read. He smelled of dry sand and desiccated wood.

Once the door closed, Vapor got down to business. “You need more of the bad ecstasy crap? The guy I hooked you up with had plenty.”

“No, that’s not it. We’ve got a problem.” She explained about Vincent and Eric, Vapor’s expression darkening as she talked. The Huntress coiled defensively in Dani’s gut, rattling a warning.

“Why didn’t you come to me right away? Why didn’t they?” Vapor demanded, looming.

“They didn’t want Mom and Dad to find out. And I thought I could handle it on my own.” Dani braced herself for the inevitable lecture. She’d spent years listening to Vapor’s exhortations to do the ritual and surrender to the Huntress. He didn’t believe it was as bad as she claimed.

Instead, he held his hand out silently for the papers she’d gotten from Chomp. She handed them over with the scrap of fabric from the gas station. Without a word, he sat down at a massive bank of computer equipment and began to type, the clicking of the keys rattling like automatic gunfire.

Dani kept her breath shallow and quiet, knowing she wouldn’t disturb him but not wanting to take the chance. The tiny apartment was neat as a pin despite the stereotype of hackers and hygiene being only nodding acquaintances. Of course, there wasn’t much space for any kind of mess, as the room was stuffed with racks of computers blinking, whirring and putting out enough heat to make the radiator unnecessary during even the worst winters. Six monitors were bolted to the wall over Vapor’s desk. Several were flashing various images from newsfeeds and security cameras; others displayed line after line of code.

He pulled out a heavy, illuminated magnifying glass and studied the cloth, muttering to himself. “Plasticized fabric, mass-produced in China. Stitching done by a corporate clothing manufacturer in Taiwan. Good.”

“Good?” Dani asked, knowing how Vapor hated interruptions but unable to keep silent.

He ignored her, continuing to read off the preliminary information. “Right-Hand Man, the company from the ad your brothers answered, orders from them. On the surface, it looks like a real business—lots of different references on various sites for professional bodyguard services. An office here in Perdition, probably for tax purposes. Employees trained and sent to main branches in New York and Los Angeles. Small company, good reputation.” He frowned. “And surprisingly effective computer security.”

“Is it a problem?” Dani asked.

“Not
that
effective,” Vapor said with a tight-lipped grin. His dry scent swelled, revealing satisfaction. “But not simple. It will take time. And it won’t be cheap.”

“I don’t care about the money. Just get it done.” She had plenty of cash reserves—part of being ready to run at a moment’s notice.

Vapor stopped typing to raise an eyebrow at her.

“Please,” she finished. For a guy who could star in his own mug book, he was surprisingly strict about manners.

He nodded. “Anything else?”

“Papers. For the whole family. In case we have to run. I need them fast.” The words stank of defeat, but she’d been drilled too long and too early not to have contingency plans ready.

Vapor lifted a metal-studded eyebrow. “These people scare you?”

“They took Vincent and Eric down fast and without showing obvious signs of a struggle. Even with Vincent wounded, Eric should have been able to keep them off long enough for me to get there.” Dani hated admitting it, but one didn’t stretch the truth with Vapor. He could detect a lie as surely as if he could smell it.

“Good.” Vapor nodded, his satisfaction even stronger. “These are dangerous people. You don’t want to underestimate them. Come back this afternoon. I’ll have the new papers ready.”

She thanked him, not wanting to antagonize him, but he’d already turned back to his machines and was tapping away.

Dani left, knowing she was struggling against a ticking clock.
One task done
. Now for the more unpleasant one: telling her family what was going on. It would take more time than she could really afford, but this wasn’t the sort of conversation it was safe to have over a phone.

She pointed her car out of the city and drove as fast as she dared. She despised feeling trapped. A seductive smile and great tits wouldn’t get her out of a ticket if the cops caught her doing over a hundred on the freeway.

It took over an hour to make her way to the overgrown and pothole-studded lane that led to the entrance to her family home. It was disguised by carefully trimmed long-leaved bushes placed just wide enough to allow a car to pass through. She’d only lived here for a few years in high school but she kept returning, no matter how much she wished she could follow her brothers’ example and stay away. Long practice let her make the turn without hesitation, emerging onto a smooth stretch of pavement twisting half a mile into the upstate countryside.

The small farmhouse had an irregular addition of mortared river stones squatting beside it. No windows broke the rough surface. Dani didn’t let her eyes linger on it for long despite the fear and guilt tugging at her heart. Squaring her shoulders, she prepared to talk to her family.

If I’m quiet enough, maybe I can talk to Dad instead of Mom.
She crept past the creaking boards left to warn of surprise intruders. Taking a deep breath to counteract her instinct to retreat, she eased open the side door into the bright, cheerful kitchen.

“It’s a little early for you, Dani,” her mother said, her fingers scanning through a braille magazine. Her long dark hair was bound in a wrist-thick braid, and she wore a comfortable peasant blouse and skirt in bright gypsy colors. Her telephone headset rested on the counter nearby, suggesting she was taking a break from her job at a 1-900 psychic hotline. The timer dinged. “Cookies are ready.”

Dani hated the way her mother’s cloudy eyes stared directly at her, even though she knew her mother could only make out vague shadows. The sight always brought back terrible memories of the night they never spoke about. Now Virginia Harris used her limited clairvoyant powers to navigate the world. She could only “see” about five feet away and a few minutes into the future, but it was enough to warn her to pop cookies in the oven for her prodigal daughter’s visit.

Her mother reached out a hand toward Dani and frowned. “You’re buzzing. When was the last time you had sex?”

Thus the litany of parental criticism begins
. Dani hated it, but would rather listen to a list of her sins than begin to explain why she was here. She pulled open the ancient fridge to search for a drink. “Two nights ago. Don’t worry, I’m feeding regularly.”

“Did he have problems? I’ve told you about picking up drunks in bars—”

“It was fine. Rocked his world. Opened his eyes.” Popping open a can of a soda, Dani cut off her mother’s tirade.

“Fizzy sugar isn’t good for you.”

“Then why do you even have it in the house?”

“Your father likes it and I don’t want to deprive him of all his little pleasures.” Virginia shrugged, her opaque eyes narrowing. “What’s wrong? There’s something you’re not telling me.”

So much for family banter.
Dani took a deep breath, wishing the moment could have been delayed a little longer, or that her mother’s powers had the range necessary to pick up the kidnapping on her own. Maybe she could have gotten there in time, with a little more warning. “It’s Vincent and Eric. They’re in trouble.”

“More than trashing a hotel room.”
Again
lingered, even if unsaid. Virginia stared blankly at the wall, her milky eyes flickering back and forth. “They were taken.”

“Whoever did it was organized. I’m looking into it.” Dani turned away. She hated when her mother played up the mystical side of her gifts.
All theater for plucking pigeons.

“But you went to Vapor and asked him for new identities anyway.” Now that Dani was in the room, her mother could probe to see her immediate past and future. Dani wondered if the Professor would stand out in the visions.

“Yeah. I did.”

“Have you thought of what this will do to your sister?” Agitation sharpened her mother’s voice. “She’s finally safe-”

“Trapped. Not safe,” Dani growled. She hated how her mother implied she would unnecessarily put Gwen at risk. “I guess I was thinking more of what being a fucking lab rat would do to her.”

“Language,” her mother snapped automatically, as if Dani were still ten and needed discipline.

“That ship has fucking sailed, Mom.”

“What’s going on here?” Dani’s father rolled his wheelchair into the kitchen as Dani’s temper prepared to haul out the heavy verbal artillery. From her mother’s expression, she was getting ready to do the same. Walter Harris studied his wife and daughter, his dark eyes snapping up every detail.

“Vincent and Eric have been taken. Whoever did it laid a trap and was prepared for their abilities. It means they were hunting
lalassu
,” Dani told her father.

He considered that for a moment, his fingers tapping on the arm of his wheelchair. Despite having been confined to it for almost two decades, her father still conveyed an impression of strength with his barrel-like chest. At times like this, Dani half expected her father to get up and pace, his long legs devouring the ground the way they used to when she’d chased him as a child.

“You think they might come after Gwen. Or us.” He reached out for Virginia’s hand. “I can’t protect us like I used to.”

“We can ask for help. The other
lalassu
have to be warned anyway. You know the only way Gwen can leave is if she’s tranquilized.” Her mother turned her blank gaze to Dani. “This is the kind of threat that needs proper guidance in order to resolve it.”

It always comes back to the ritual.
How they’d been left without a divine conduit for almost twenty years. Her mother cared more about the stupid statue crumbling in her closet than her daughter. Dani stopped the tirade before it could begin, folding her arms over her chest. “Then step up with my blessing.”

“That’s not tradition—” her mother began.

“Then fuck tradition,” Dani spat.

“Dani, enough.” Walter raised his hand, silencing both women.

“Dani?” The plaintive call echoed from the other room.

The tension abruptly dissolved as priorities shifted, leaving Dani emotionally off-balance.

“Go see your sister. We’ll talk more later,” her father said.

Ignoring her mother’s loaded expression, Dani pushed past the heavy wooden door into the candlelit stone room behind, careful to step over the thick ridge of glued salt outlining the threshold. Her sister was curled up in the corner, wrapped in a quilt, with her sketch pad against her knees. Immediately, Dani caught a faint coppery tang of dry blood. She’d hurt herself again, probably a scrape.
There had to be a better option.

“Ravens fly and croak above the battlefield. Don’t distinguish between the living and the dead,” Gwen whispered, her charcoal skipping across the page. “People hear the croak and are afraid but the battle has already happened.”

Dani ignored the ramblings, kneeling beside her. She spotted the scrapes on her sister’s elbows and made a mental note to check them for infection. “Gwen, sweetie. Some bad things may be happening.”

“Bad things always happen. Lots of bad things. Lots of good things, too. But bad things are more interesting so that’s what they tell me.” Gwen’s dark eyes were wide, tracing invisible lines while her hand worked independently.

“People are hunting us.” She wondered how much Gwen would understand if Dani tried to explain it to her.