Touch of Darkness (31 page)

“Don’t start without me,” he said as he ducked out the door and headed down the hall to use the bathroom.

“I won’t.” I said it softly, but I knew he’d hear.

When we joined Mary in the kitchen she was making significant inroads into the leftovers. Tom got himself a fresh cup of coffee and took up a position leaning against the counter. I sat down on the chair nearest to where he was standing, but angled so that I could watch him. I wanted to see how he would take some of this. I knew he wouldn’t be happy. But I wasn’t sure exactly how he’d react. I could only hope he wouldn’t get pissed at me and think I was hiding things. I hadn’t been. I had barely had time to even think over the past few days, let alone talk things out. I just hoped he’d understand that.

“So.” Mary gave me a long hard stare. “Spill it.”

I hesitated. I wasn’t sure where to start. “Um, okay then.” I took a deep breath. “Dylan Shea is alive. According to Carlton he’s taken over the collective so that it’s more like a dictatorship.” I looked from one to the other. Neither said anything. Was that good or bad? “Anyway,” I continued. “I think there are two separate things going on here. Dylan’s personal agenda with me; and the Thrall plan for the werewolves, but they kind of overlap. Some of this I know, some of it I’m guessing.”

“Just start already,” Mary snapped.

“All right. Okay. The Thrall started ‘curing’ zombies and coma victims, set up the halfway houses, got a lot of good press. Everybody thinks they’re wonderful.”

“Not everybody,” Tom growled.

“Not the wolves,” Mary agreed.

“Right. But the average populace thinks it’s great and look at all the good they’re doing.”

“Yeah,” Mary said bitterly. “Tell us something we don’t know.” She had pushed away from the table now, and was leaning back into her chair with her arms folded across her chest.

“But then Mike and some of the others started noticing that there’s something not quite right about some of the people being brought back. It’s like they’re not quite back all the way.” I looked at Tom for confirmation.

“That’s right. Mike sent Bryan in undercover. He found proof that a fair number of the former Eden zombies in particular are being brought back enough to function, but they’re still… malleable. Bryan told me he couldn’t be sure, but it was like they were almost dependent on the hive, without any real will of their own. It creeped him out.” I didn’t blame him. It bothered me too.

I continued. “In the case of people like the prince’s son, that could give the vampires a lot of power. I mean, he’s the heir to the throne in one of the most oil-rich countries in the Middle East. I think that was how it started out. Control a few key people. Sort of the same idea that Monica Micah had a few years back.”

Mary nodded.

“Now not many people can hold out against a Thrall anyway. There weren’t ever a lot of Not Prey, and most of us got killed. So we’re kind of a nonissue. But the wolves are a problem. The wolves are immune to the psychic stuff. They hate the Thrall, and they’re strong enough individually and as a group to keep the vampires from becoming too powerful and they can see through all the illusions and bullshit. If you’re head of the Thrall, and you want to get rid of any resistance, any chance of somebody interfering with your big plan, whatever it is, what would be the first thing you’d do?”

“Eliminate the wolves.” Mary said it and Tom nodded his agreement.

“But how? When it comes right down to it, the wolves really do have an advantage when it comes to fighting. Teeth, claws, healing ability, working together as a pack. It’s a tough package to beat.”

“Glad you noticed.” Elaine had appeared in the kitchen doorway. I hadn’t heard her coming. Neither had Tom. But Mary didn’t act surprised at all. She’d either heard or scented the other woman. I would’ve bet on it. She walked into the room wearing an oversized pink tee-shirt adorned with the dancing hippopotami from Fantasia, her hair tousled from sleep, and she still looked dangerous. Every eye in the room was on her as she pulled out one of the two vacant chairs and took a seat, helping herself to one of the biscuits and then spreading it with jam.

“He wanted to create a fighting force equivalent to the wolves, but one that he could control, preferably using the Thrall psychic abilities. His own private little army.”

“Wolves are born, not made,” Elaine said between bites.

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“Oh, do go on.” She smiled and it was poisonously sweet. “I love a good fairy tale. Tell me how Little Red Riding Hood plans to slay the big bad wolves.”

Mary sat very, very still. I could see her eyes darkening, but that was the only sign that she was getting angry. Tom, on the other hand, flushed. He stood up and was moving toward her, until I scooted my chair back in his way.

“You forget yourself, Thomas.” There was a rumbling growl to her voice, and I could feel the power of her magic crawling up my arms. I didn’t say anything, just stared at her for a long, slow heartbeat. Not in challenge, precisely, but not backing down either. Her eyes stayed locked with mine, even after she’d begun talking again. “Monica Micah was an aberration. The fact that the Thrall are a collective mind means that they have the knowledge of the consequences of every action taken by any individual host. It makes them very conservative in their dealings. They’ve scored big with their ‘helpfulness,’ and they’ll use every chance they can to play on the humans’ fear and make us look like rabid animals, but even if it were possible, they would never risk a direct, open attack. They wouldn’t dare.”

I could feel Tom stiffen, hear him inhale to start to speak. I didn’t want him to. First, she wouldn’t believe anything we said. She was just that sure of herself. It was pure hubris, but there would be no getting past it. But more than that, I didn’t trust her. My psychic sense was picking up something, but the fact that she was a powerful werewolf was interfering with me getting anything specific. I could probably have talked to her mind-to-mind like I had with Mary, if she’d wanted. But if she wanted to shield me out she damned well could.

Don’t argue. It’s what she wants, and you can’t win.

I knew he heard me. I could see a reaction flicker through those warm brown eyes. There was no hiding the fact he’d been about to say something, but he could change what it was.

“Maybe you’re right.” His smile was bright, shiny, but without any depth or feeling. “But where are our manners?

No one’s gotten you any coffee. How do you take it?”

“Black, thank you.” Her words were fine, but her eyes had narrowed with suspicion. She looked from Tom, who was moving around me to get her coffee, and back to me. I hid behind my cup, taking a long drink, so that all she could see was my eyes, and I kept them wide and, hopefully, innocent.

“Would you like some bacon and eggs?”

“No. Thank-you. I’m not usually one for breakfast.” Her smile was a baring of sharp teeth. “But I smelled the biscuits and just couldn’t resist.”

“I’m a big biscuit fan myself,” Mary admitted. She was making small talk. Even without sharing thoughts the three of us all seemed to be in agreement. Anything we needed to talk about would be discussed when she wasn’t in earshot. Unfortunately, she had no intention of letting me out of her sight.

Wasn’t that just ducky.

22

« ^ »

“Is it bad that I find myself hoping Janine tries to kill me soon?” I wasn’t asking anyone in particular. Joe had arrived back at the house just as Elaine announced her intention to take a shower. He’d come bearing towels, sheets, dishcloths and matching dishtowels, hot pads, scissors, even a complete set of gourmet chef and kitchen knives in a butcher block stand. There were other goodies, too, but while the towels were the most urgently needed, it was the knives that made my little heart go pitty pat. I love edged weapons, and these were beautiful, functional, and honed to an edge you could shave with.

So now Joe, Mary, Tom, and I were sitting around the kitchen trying to talk softly enough that Elaine wouldn’t hear. And while we wanted to talk about the serious stuff, none of us felt really comfortable doing it with her awake in the house.

I’d asked the question because it had occurred to me that I was supposed to spend the entire day running errands, sitting around bus stops with that woman. She’d been up less than a half hour and already I was ready to commit violence. I normally like sarcastic, caustic people. But Elaine—Elaine was just a bitch.

“I’ll be there with you,” Tom reassured me.

“No, you won’t.” Mary’s voice made it an order. She stopped the argument he was about to make by raising her hand. “You make it worse. Just seeing the two of you together is bringing out the worst in Elaine. It’d be a diplomatic incident waiting to happen.”

“But—” he started to protest, but she waved him to silence.

“I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because of Janine, maybe it’s something else, but we can’t afford to piss her off as a pack, and you, especially, can’t afford it. So, after we take care of our business at the hospital Joe’s going to drop you and me off at the convention center and then he’ll spend the rest of the day acting as chauffeur and mediator so that they don’t kill each other.”

I raised my eyebrows at that. Joe, a mediator? Um, she was married to the man. Surely she knew just how bad of an idea that was.

The thought must’ve shown on my face because Mary smiled. “It’s not perfect, but she’s much less likely to try pushing you around if there are two of you.”

“If you say so.” I sounded doubtful. I couldn’t help it. I mean, yeah, Joe and I were seeming to get along better the past few days, but we have years of tension between us. The problems might not come from dealing with Elaine.

“Look, let’s just do this one thing at a time,” Mary suggested. “We’ll go to the hospital. Joe will drop off his resignation and clean out his office while we visit with Ruby. Then we’ll go to the convention center. If we’re lucky, my mother will be there. She’s in charge of the Surrogate Council and enough of a political bigwig that we can count on her keeping Elaine busy for a bit. The Conclave officially starts tomorrow. I need to know what’s going on, and I think that’s the only chance we’ll have of getting in a private talk. We can worry about the rest of the day later. Okay?”

I couldn’t help but agree with the logic. She did need to know. It would’ve been nice if Elaine was open-minded enough to be supportive. She wasn’t. Having her in the loop would just screw things up. So we would work around her and hope like hell it didn’t bite us in the ass.

“All right,” I agreed. “But there’s something I want to tell everybody right now while I’ve got the chance.” I took a deep breath. “All of you need to be very, very careful. Dylan is unhinged. He specifically threatened all of you.”

“Threatened how?” Joe asked.

I thought about what Dylan had said by the church, tried to think of a way to tell them that didn’t sound silly and melodramatic. It was hard. Because while the words were overblown, the hatred behind them had been very real and very terrifying.

“Katie—” Tom’s voice had a warning note that I didn’t like. “What exactly did he say?”

I closed my eyes, and forced myself to remember it exactly, trying to get not only the words but the tone. When I was sure I had it right, I open my eyes and spoke. “I was at the church. They’ve torn it down. They didn’t salvage anything. It was deliberate. He meant it as a message for me. And when I saw it, he spoke to me, mind to mind: I will destroy everything and every one who matters to you as completely as I destroyed this building. I have stripped you of your home and your belongings; next it will be your friends, your family, your relationship with him. I will destroy your life while you watch helplessly. And when it is over, and you have absolutely nothing, then I’ll take your life.”

“Fuck.” Joe said it, and swallowed hard. Mary simply sat, grim and pale on the kitchen chair. But it was Tom’s reaction that I was most worried about. Because this was a threat to me, and while he respects my strengths, he’s also very, very protective of me.

He stood very still, every muscle in his body tense, jaw clenched tight enough that I would’ve sworn I heard his teeth grind. When he spoke, it was in a slow, controlled voice, every syllable perfectly enunciated. “You didn’t tell me this until now?”

“Tom, I haven’t had the chance. I was going to show you when we did the meditation. I wanted you to see it for yourself, it and the visions I’ve been having. I wouldn’t hide something like this from you. I wouldn’t. It’s too damned scary. Because he meant it. He really, truly did.”

Tom turned his head toward me slowly, and something about that movement wasn’t entirely human. His eyes held a golden cast. I could feel his magic like a weight pressing against me, crashing the air from my lungs. I couldn’t talk. I didn’t know what to say. I was telling him the absolute truth. Life had been hellish the past few days. There had been no time to think, plan, or talk about anything. Of course, that probably had been part of the plan, keep the blows coming hard enough and fast enough that I was always reacting instead of taking the offense.

“So it’s personal then.” Joe meant the words to break the tension, but they rolled over us, unheeded. Our gazes were locked, and I, without any psychic effort on my part, could feel Tom trying to test me, trying to see if I was lying to cover the fact that I had done the one thing he hates most. I couldn’t make him believe me; couldn’t force him to trust me. Either he did, or he didn’t. But God help me, I wasn’t lying.

“It’s always been personal.” Tom’s voice was lower than normal, and there was a rumbling growl to the words, as if a very large, dangerous dog had suddenly learned speech. “He wanted her back; thought if he died a hero, he could come back later and she’d go running to him.”

“Not going to happen.” I stated it as the fact it was. I would never leave Tom for Dylan. Never. What I felt for Tom was so far beyond what I’d ever had with my former fiancé that there was no comparison. Tom unbent enough to smile just a little. “I do know that.”

“Just making sure.”