Shadowlight (32 page)

Lucan rolled to avoid the back wheels of the truck and staggered to his feet. The burns to his face and chest throbbed painfully as he watched the truck knock aside the cars his men had positioned to block the road, and heard the roar of the engine as Lawson accelerated.

“Lucan.” Samantha reached him and grabbed his arms. “Your face.”

He could feel the wounds healing. “It will pass.” He turned to her. “Help the mortals who have been injured.”

“You can’t go after him.”

“My talent shattered his leg. I can kill him.” He bent and kissed her with his scorched lips. “Take care of the people here.”

He took one of the cars Lawson had not destroyed, and followed after the tanker, trying to gain on it before Lawson reached a populated area. Fortunately the only dwellings Lucan saw ahead of them were a gas station and a restaurant, which he was sure Lawson would pass.

Sure until the tanker slowed, and then turned.

He shook his head. “Sarah and Paul will be here soon. She will cast an illusion over me—”

“He’ll reach us before they do.” She looked at Drew. “Are you as fast as Rowan says? Can you pull me out in time?”

As he nodded. Rowan walked over to Matthias and held out her hand.

“It’s my turn.” When he didn’t touch her, she wrapped her fingers around his wrist. “Queenie, in case you were wondering.” Her body blurred, and when she turned around she was a mirror image of Jessa. “He really loves you.”

“Rowan, I can’t let you—” Jessa began, but the younger girl waved her hand.

“You don’t get a vote. No one does. Like I said, my turn.” Her gaze shifted as the sound of a truck braking drew their attention. “No more time to discuss it. He’s here. Matthias, you’ve got the car. Drew, you’d better not miss this time.”

“I won’t.” He sprinted off toward the welder’s truck.

Matthias caught the keys Rowan tossed to him. “You will be careful.”

“No.” She grinned. “But I’ll get him.” She jogged off toward the fueling station before either of them could say another word.

Jessa stared after her. “She’s one of the shape-shifters. I had no idea.”

He tugged her arm. “Come. We must go to the car before he sees both of you.”

The tanker slowly entered the drive into the truck stop, and coasted to a stop. Jessa crouched behind Rowan’s car with Matthias and watched as the tanker slowly turned toward the fueling station, where Rowan, still in Jessa’s form, stood between the pumps. The truck carrying the pipes backed in behind her, and Matthias opened the door to the car and started the engine.

Rowan walked forward until Lawson could see her standing in the sunlight. With a grand sweep of her arm, she lifted her hand and flipped him her middle finger.

The tanker’s engine gunned, and Lawson barreled toward her.

Electricity crackled over the tanker’s cab as Lawson forced open the driver’s-side door and fell out of the truck. One of the pipes, embedded in his chest, came with him, and then wrapped around him like a boa, tightening until he threw out his arms and shrugged it off as if it were no more than paper ribbons.

Lucan got out of the car and started toward them, but stopped in his tracks as a sedan flashed past him. No one was driving it, but it was headed directly for the tanker, Lawson, and the woman.

“You have to stop running away from me, Jessa,” Lawson said as he limped toward the girl, dragging his shattered leg along. “It’s time for us to be together.”

“Not in this lifetime, pal,” Jessa said, taking a short pipe out of her jacket and holding the ends in her hands. She was jerked up into the air a moment before Lawson reached her, and flew over the fueling station just as the sedan hit the back of the tanker and burst into flames. The fire spread to the tanker, which was leaking fuel now on all sides.

White bolts of electricity flared all around Lawson, who shouted the girl’s name as he turned, watching her float down next to the diner. Copper pipes crept up and wrapped themselves around his legs, holding him in place. “Come here, you bitch.”

Lucan would never be sure what ignited the contents of the tanker—Lawson’s power or the fire spreading from the sedan—but the truck exploded into a fireball that engulfed the fueling station and most of the lot around it, and blew out the windows of the diner and every vehicle in the lot by the diner. As burning fuel and parts of the tanker rained down, several cars parked on the far end of the lot caught fire as well.

A vague form struggled in the midst of the flames, and then fell to the ground, its lower limbs encased in melting copper.

Lucan saw no sign of the mortal female who had flown in the air, or what had caused the pipes to impale and imprison Lawson. What he felt was indefinable, unfamiliar. He would have said he sensed another Kyn nearby, but they were not Kyn. They were something else—and they were already gone.

He made sure none of the mortals was injured before he climbed back into the car and returned to the roadblock. Samantha ran to him before he could stop the car, and flung herself at him.

“Is he dead?”

He held her close. “This time, I believe he is.” He saw an old pickup truck, driven by an older mortal with stooped shoulders, approaching the roadblock. His men glanced at the four dark-skinned farmhands sitting in the back and then waved them through. As the truck passed, the mortal’s companion, a kind-faced woman, caught Lucan’s gaze and did something that astonished him.

“What is it?” he heard Samantha ask.

“That mortal who just passed us,” he told her. “She winked at me.”

“So are you,” she said as she checked his other eye, “but somehow I manage not to stab you repeatedly in the heart with a copper dagger, no matter how often I am tempted.” She stepped back and showed him three fingers. “How many do you see?”

He folded his arms. “Nine.”

“Do you
want
me to check your retinas again?” she demanded. “I’ll get the drops this time. I swear to God.”

“Three.”

“Thank you.” She scribbled something on her notepad. “Well, suzerain, it looks like you’re going to live. I’ll break the news to the jardin gently.”

“You have an evil heart. I have always loved that about you.” Lucan pulled on his shirt and began buttoning it. “Was Michael able to learn more about the woman and her friends?”

“Not a lot,” Alex said. “But Lawson’s former employer, GenHance, was very interested in the remains we didn’t recover from the wrecked sedan. They were expecting four bodies. They even gave us names.”

“All adopted orphans, I imagine.”

She nodded. “Looks like we missed meeting some Kyndred by the skin of your corneas. But our human friends in the FBI planted some cremated ash in the wreck and falsified a few documents, and that got the biotech corporation to back off. They think we recovered four bodies, all dead, with no viable DNA. That should give Michael some time to find out exactly who the bad guys are, what they’re up to, and how much they were involved in what happened to Lawson.”

“You did survey his remains?”

She nodded. “Nothing remarkable. Human, normal DNA, extra crispy. Not a trace of pathogen or augmented genes. Whatever was in him, whatever made him so lethal, was burned out by the fire. I’ll continue studying the tissue samples from the remains of his victims. Maybe I’ll find something to explain what he was, and how he got that way.”

Samantha came into the office. “What’s the verdict?”

“I did my best,” Alex said as she closed her medical case, “but sorry; you’re still stuck with him, honey.”

“Could have been worse, I suppose. No, Lawson’s dead.” She laughed as Lucan nipped one of her fingers. “Cut it out. Alex, I can’t find anything on Jessa Bellamy. She simply doesn’t exist anymore; it’s like she’s been erased. If she and these other people involved in killing Lawson were Kyndred, they’re very good at covering their tracks. As good as we are, I think.”

“After what I saw them do,” Lucan said, “I am not convinced we should be looking for them.”

“I was Kyndred,” Alex reminded him. “So was Samantha. We—they—may have been created by the Brethren for other reasons, but they are the only beings in this world like us. And if the Darkyn are going to survive, we have to find them.”

“Why was a consultant brought in?”

His security chief flipped through the forms. “A Dr. Alexandra Keller. She’s a reconstructive surgeon out of Chicago, doing a study on third-degree-burn patients. The FBI brought her in as a special consultant on the Lawson case. We barely had time to switch out Lawson’s remains before Dr. Keller arrived.”

Genaro nodded. “Riordan?”

“Still at large, but he should surface sometime in the near future. We weren’t able to recover anything from his apartment, but along with the criminal charges we’ve filed, we’ve emptied his accounts and destroyed his credit. After what he did to our men in the park, I’ve issued orders to shoot him on sight.” Delaporte gave him an uneasy look. “I hope you agree that’s the best approach to take with this one.”

“Agreed. File the reports and keep me updated.” After Delaporte left, Genaro switched on the intercom. “Have you performed the microcellular tests?”

“As soon as it was delivered from the morgue.” Kirchner’s iron gray hair badly needed a trim, as it flopped over his glasses. “Cellular regeneration has begun on a limited level, as you can see from the eyes, but there isn’t enough body mass to sustain it. If you want to keep it alive, we’ll have to augment.”

“No, that will not be necessary.” Genaro studied his greatest failure. The black, twisted form appeared to be little more than a mound of charcoal sticks with eyes, which were open and staring up at Genaro’s face. “Will it take much longer for his tissue to begin regenerating?”

“I doubt it, sir.” The geneticist checked the preservation unit’s LED display. “BP and heart rate are beginning to rise. Brain activity indicates consciousness as well. Once I’ve completed the physical and neurological exams, we can begin harvesting.”

Genaro watched as the thing in the coffin opened the hole that remained of its mouth in a soundless scream. It was evident that what remained of Bradford Lawson could not only see, but could hear as well. “Excellent. Be sure when you’ve recovered the cells to dismember the remains before you incinerate them.”

He turned his back on the window and walked away.

“If you’re looking for a fugitive computer genius who just lost all his tech,” he told her, “one way to find him is to monitor specific equipment purchases.” He stepped aside so she could open the hatch to the stairs. “Plus I installed a duplicate setup over at the farm. The boss doesn’t need it anymore.”

Rowan remembered something Matthias did need, and turned around. “I’ve gotta grab something. I’ll meet you at the car.”

When Rowan caught up with Drew, she pushed a book into his hands. “Here. Put this in with your stuff.”

“I didn’t get you anything.” Drew held it up so he could read the cover in the streetlight. “Gourmet Cooking for Two. Hell, Rowan, why don’t you just go with me?”

She grinned. “You couldn’t pay me to move to California, pal. I’m heading north, back to egg creams and civilization.”

Drew tucked the book in the back of his car. “Oh, wait. I do have something for you.” He turned around and caught her in a clinch so fast Rowan had time only to take the kiss that came with it.

“There. We’re even.” He set her back on her feet and dodged her swat. “Take care of yourself, baby girl.”

“Bastard.” She gave him a hard hug before she stalked off.

Matt had insisted on buying her a new bike to replace the one she’d ditched in Atlanta, and she hadn’t refused. She was never going to be a car chick, and she needed to be on the move again. The boss had already set up a guest room for her, and Jessa had practically begged her to stay with them, but while Rowan could be a good sport, she wasn’t a masochist.

Somewhere out there is someone for me,
she thought as she straddled her bike.
Someone who doesn’t want a goddess. Someone who will never, ever eat a Filet-O-Fish in front of me.

“Yeah, right,” she answered herself. “But how will I know for sure?”

Drew pulled to a stop by her bike in time to hear her. “Know what?”

“How does someone like me know if any guy really cares?” she said without thinking.

“That’s easy.” He smiled. “When he holds your hand, you won’t change into Angelina Jolie.” He waved and took off.

She watched his taillights disappear, and laughed all the way to the interstate.

Rowan rode through the night, and arrived in Tennessee just after dawn. She made her way across fields and down dirt roads that didn’t exist on any map except the one in her head. Another hour passed before she arrived at the gates to the sprawling grounds of the farm.

Matthias had planted so many trees around the house she could hardly see it from the road. A small intercom next to the locked gates invited her to press its buttons, but as she looked out over the acres of good, rich soil waiting to be planted, she dropped her kickstand and got off the bike.

Before leaving Savannah, she had gathered a few things for them and bundled everything up in her favorite tablecloth. Now she tucked in a hastily written note and left it at the foot of the gates. With one last, long look at her friends’ home, she strapped her bundle to the back of her bike, got on, pressed the call button at the gate, and took off, heading north toward her future.