Twilight Fulfilled (21 page)

He pulled a bulging sack from his shoulder. The pillowcase Utana had brought with him from the mansion, she realized. “I found this in your car. The costume's still in there. Put it on for us, won't you, Brigit? It'll be almost poetic.”

“Go to hell, you scar-faced sonofa—”

One of the thugs clapped a hand over her mouth before she could finish. Talking slowly, Gravenham-Bail opened the pillowcase and tugged the silky, jangling belly-dance outfit from it.

“See, the guys here were hoping you'd say that. They're looking forward to putting it on for you. Oh, and I should probably mention that if you try to blast anyone with that rather unusual power of yours, you'll make your own head explode. The glass in those goggles is designed to reflect the beam right back at you. You're harmless. Impotent. Completely at my mercy.”

“You think?” The words were muffled behind the hand at her mouth, but she said them all the same. Then she bent her elbows, using the men who held her as leverage. In a flash she lifted herself up, feet rising as her knees bent, and she kicked straight
out to either side, catching the thugs squarely in the cojones.

They released her as they doubled over in pain, and then she lunged forward, intending to mow Nash over on her way out the door.

He stepped aside as if to let her pass but jabbed her with a needle on her way by.

She only made it four steps into the hallway before the weakness welled up within her. Her knees turned into liquid, and her vision swam.

Vaguely, as she sank to the floor, she was aware of Nash Gravenham-Bail coming to stand over her. “I was ready for that,” he whispered. And then he crouched low and started peeling her clothes off as her body became too weak to fight and her head spun like an out-of-control merry-go-round. He was quick and clinical, stripping her and redressing her in the beautiful costume. He left her feet bare, and then nudged one of his soldiers, who was walking oddly.

“Toss her over your shoulder and let's get her outside. Are the Chosen ready yet?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. And it's just about dark, too. The timing is coming together perfectly. Let's begin, then, shall we?”

Scarface led the way, marching not toward the elevators but along the hallway toward the back. She didn't know why. She hung all but helplessly over
the soldier's shoulder as he strode along behind his boss. As they passed a door at the end of the hall, she got an odd tingly feeling and looked up.

Beyond the mesh in the safety glass she saw a padded room, with three figures inside. They were sitting on the floor, Roxy speaking, while Melinda and her mother looked on, mesmerized.

Aside from them, the fourth floor seemed abandoned.

It was not long before she knew why.

“W
ell, now, Utanapishtim, it seems your lady friend has abandoned you.”

Utana tugged on the chains that held him, but they only rattled in response. More than an hour had passed since Brigit had left his side—maybe for the final time. He had not heard from her and had no clue what might be happening. But had the plan gone well, she would have informed him by now.

And he feared for her, for all of them. Night had fallen. And it was on this night, he knew, that Nashmun would set his evil plan into motion.

“Still weak, I see,” his former vizier said.

“Too weak to do that which you intend to force me to do. You have defeated yourself in this battle, Nashmun. I cannot use my power to destroy the vahmpeers, no matter what you do to force me.”

“Not yet. But as soon as the antidote kicks in,
you'll be fine.” Nashmun walked up to him, driving another needle into his flank.

Big mistake, moving that close to his right hand, Utana thought. He grabbed Nashmun by his throat, lifting the scar-faced one off his feet into the air. “I will kill you here and now, and end this war.”

Nashmun tried to speak, but only strangled grunts emerged. He clawed at Utana's hand on his neck, kicked his feet wildly in the air, and finally pointed urgently toward the ceiling up above and those sloping glass panels through which one could not see.

Before Utana's eyes, they began to move.

Startled, he watched as barriers that seemed to be contained within the glass itself slid away, rendering the skylights transparent at last. And beyond those windows Utana saw horror.

The yard behind the hospital, and the chain-link fence that surrounded it, were revealed to him. But the fence itself was barely visible. There were people, a hundred or more people, affixed to that fence. Some at ground level, some up higher. They were stacked two and three high, somehow bound to the fence's metallic links. And directly ahead, bound spread eagle to the fence, was his beloved Brigit.

“Release me,” Nashmun rasped.

Utana relaxed his grip on Nashmun's throat, allowing him to breathe, but he did not let him go.

He stared, unable to take his eyes from Brigit. She was dressed in the costume in which she'd
danced for him. Her hair was loose, her moonlight curls moving in the wind. Behind her, the sun had set. Beyond the distant blue mountains on the horizon, only a thin curve of fiery orange remained against the deepening sky. Nashmun spoke into the device attached to his wrist.

And suddenly, all the people affixed to the fence jerked like fish on a pike. Sparks showered around them, and Utana knew they were being jolted with electricity. Brigit's face pulled into a grimace of torment, and her scream of agony joined a chorus of them.

Then, as Nashmun moved his hand again, the torture stopped. And the people—the Chosens—went lax. Many of them were crying, many more shouting questions, demanding to be released.

Utana let go of Nashmun, who fell to the floor, gasping a few breaths and rubbing his neck with one hand.

“I will kill you if you harm her again,” Utana said.

“
I
will kill
her,
” the scar-faced betrayer promised, “unless you do exactly what I tell you from now on.” He got to his feet, brushed himself off. “I'd rather keep her for research, but it's worth more to me to be rid of the vampire scourge. Now, here's what going down. In a little while—moments from now—it will be full dark. As soon as it is, we're going to jolt the hell out of those people out there.”

Utana bared his teeth in anguish. “There is no
need to torture them further. They are innocents!” he shouted.

“Yes, in fact it
is
necessary. You see, the vampires will hear their cries, feel their pain and they will come here to save them. We've rigged the bonds so that the Undead will have to get inside the perimeter in order to set their precious Chosen kinfolk free. So they'll all be in there, all contained in one spot. When I give you the signal, you will blast them with that death ray of yours and they will all die.”

Shaking his head fiercely, Utana said, “I cannot do what you ask, even if I wish it. You have drugged away my powers.”

“That injection I just gave you was the antidote.”

“I do not know antidote,” Utana muttered in misery.

“Your powers have been restored, Utana,” Nashmun explained. “But if you try to use them on me, we'll electrocute your lady over and over and over again. We won't stop until her hair catches fire and her eyeballs explode. It will be the most unbearable pain you can imagine. You will do as I say, Utana. Or they will suffer untold anguish. All of them. And your Brigit most of all.”

Utana stared at Brigit. He didn't think she could see him, but he knew she would hear his thoughts.

My love, I am sorry. I am so sorry, I have failed you.

Her head came up straight, eyes searching the night for him. She looked toward him but not at him.

“Turn on the lights!” Nashmun shouted.

From somewhere out of sight, in another part of the room, one of his henchmen threw a switch, and the basement—the dungeon—was flooded with light. For a moment Brigit was invisible to Utana, but he knew she could see him.

I know what he's doing, Utana, but you cannot listen to him! Don't you do what says, my love. Don't you dare hurt my people to save me. Do you hear me? Don't do it, Utana!

Utana lowered his head, closed his eyes.
How can I bear to watch you suffer?

It doesn't fucking matter how much I suffer! I'm immortal. I'll heal. If I die, my brother will bring me back. It will be fine.

“He won't do it, though,” Nashmun said.

Stunned, Utana looked at him, his eyes flying wide in surprise.

“I've been working with their kind for a while now. You pick up a few things.” Nashmun tapped his own forehead. “I can hear their thoughts. They're faint, garbled sometimes, but mostly I can piece them together. Her brother isn't going to save her. You see, not only has he turned his back on her—because of you, I might add—but even if he changes his mind, it won't matter. We'll take them both out, and if they revive—which we think they will, being immortal—they'll wake to find themselves entombed alive. So immortal or not, they're going to be out of commission. Imprisoned. Buried alive.”

“No!”

“Yes, yes, yes. Buried alive. Just like you were, Utana.”

The thought of Brigit suffering the anguish that had driven him to madness made Utana's heart bleed within him. “You do not need to harm them. You do not need to do any of this, Nashmun.”

“No, I don't have to. But I'm going to. Unless you kill all the vampires. You take those bloodthirsty animals out for me, Utana, and I will let your woman go. And her brother, too. Then the three of you can go off together and live happily ever after.”

Happily ever after.
The words were the very ones Brigit had used. Such a beautiful saying—but befouled by coming from this evil man's lying lips.

“What do you say?”

Utana!
Brigit was shouting at him mentally.
Utana, don't do it! I'll never forgive you if you do it!

Know that I love you, Brigit. I love you as I have loved none before.

Baby, please, hold out. Don't do this. We'll get out of this somehow.

He's reading our thoughts, my lo
—

“That's enough!” Nashmun nodded at his henchman, and the lights went out. Utana could once again see Brigit, but she could no longer see him. “Anymore communication and I jolt her. Understand?”

“You would rob me of even the chance to say goodbye?”

“You do what I say and you won't have to say goodbye.” Nash looked toward the spot where the last rays of the sun sank at last below the horizon.

“Hit them again!” Nash shouted.

Immediately electricity surged through the fence, burning and jolting them all.

Utana closed his eyes, unable to watch the agony, but feeling it in every cell of his body. “I'll do it,” he muttered. “Please, please, no more torture. Let them be. I'll do as you ask.”

“Good. That's very good, Utana. Of course, we're going to have to give them another jolt, maybe two, to ensure the vampires come running to the rescue. But because you've agreed, I'll make them milder and shorter. They would be grateful to you if they knew.”

Utana hung his head, his tears scalding his skin. He could not bear to see Brigit suffer. And there was only one way to ensure it would stop. Only one way.

 

Brigit's entire body was snapping with the remnants of the electric current that had been sent blazing through her when suddenly she heard Utana's voice in her head as clearly as if he were speaking aloud. As she sought him, lights came on in the angled skylights above the basement, revealing
Utana beyond them, still chained to that damned wall. He was directly opposite her, and she knew they were going to make him watch her suffer until he did what they said.

Damn that Gravenham-Bail and the DPI.

She talked, pled, cajoled, but in the end, Utana went silent, and she doubted it was by choice. He'd managed to warn her that Nash could hear her thoughts, and that was good to know, though it made for a terrible situation.

Then the lights inside went out and she couldn't see him anymore.

I love you, Utanapishtim. Ziasudra. And if I die tonight, my only regret will be that we didn't have more time together. And if I die a thousand years from now, my only regret will be exactly the same. I love you. I love you. I love you.

“Psst!”

Brigit went stiff, sensing a presence behind her, just outside the fence. And then feeling a rush of recognition. “J.W.,” she whispered. “Oh, thank God, thank God.”

“Easy.” Reaching up a hand, he thrust his fingers through the links of the chain, weaving them through hers. “I would have left when you did, sis, but I thought I could talk sense into the others.”

“And did you?”

“Of course I did. You know Rhiannon's temper. She would have come around if you'd given her
a little more time. Everyone's on their way right behind me, waiting for me to find out what we should do next. But, listen, I want you to know, I would have come either way. Lucy and our parents, too.”

“Would you?” she asked, her heart breaking.

“You're my sister. I'm on your side, even if you fall for the Devil himself.”

Tears streaming, relief rushing through her, she nodded very slightly. “Gravenham-Bail can hear our thoughts.”

“I gathered as much from the conversation I just overheard. That's why I'm whispering. Did Utana give you back your power? Can you blast a hole through the fence? Break the current?”

“They've got me goggled. I can't use my power. But you can.”

“What do you mean?”

“J.W., our powers are the same. Mine and yours. Utana says they're just opposite aspects of the same force. I've always had the ability to heal. And you to destroy.”

“Holy shit,” he marveled, but only momentarily. “Then I'll blast it myself.”

“No! Listen to me, if they know you're here, they'll force Utana to kill you all, and he might very well do it. He loves me so much….” Her whispers dissolved into sobs then.

“I know,” J.W. whispered. “I know, Bridge, I
heard the entire thing. And I'm sorry. I…the guy really
does
love you. I was wrong about him. But I'm no more able to watch you suffer than he is.”

“You need to wait—there's something else you have to do first. There are still people inside. Get them out. If we can't save anyone else, at least we can save them.”

“People?”

“A woman named Roxy—she's the one who's been working from the inside to give the vampires information. The DPI must have found out what she was doing. And then there's a very special little girl, and her mother. You have to get them out of there alive, J.W. I promised.”

“I'll get them.”

“All hell's going to break loose here soon. You have to do it now.”

“I don't want to leave you.”

“J.W., she's a scared little girl. Seven years old. Named Melinda. They're on the fourth floor, all the way to the right down the corridor behind the nurses' station. Get them. Please.” She nodded toward the skylights. “I'm scared to death that I know what Utana's going to do. Though I pray I'm wrong. You may only have minutes to get them out of there.”

“All right. All right.”

“Go, James. Now!”

And then he was gone.

Alone again, Brigit stared toward the now black glass beyond which her love, her soul mate, was being held. And she continued to send her thoughts to him, regardless of whether Gravenham-Bail could hear or not.

Don't hurt the one I love most, Utana. If you love me, you won't do the horrible thing you're thinking of. I'd rather die myself than have that happen. I can take pain. I can handle torture. But I cannot handle losing you—no more than I could stand to lose my family. I love you. I'll love you no matter what, but I'm begging you
—

She went rigid as another bolt of electricity blazed through her body. A shower of sparks rained from the fence around her, and she screamed.

And then there was a burst of static, followed by a voice coming from loudspeakers mounted on top of the building. Gravenham-Bail's voice. “No more communication, Brigit. Next time, I'm going to have my men hose you down first. Believe me, it will intensify the, uh…sensations.”

Fuck you,
she thought viciously.
I can handle anything you can dish out, and when it's over, I'm going to make you suffer. And I'm going to make your friends and your family suffer, and I'm going to make everyone you care about suf—
“Aieeee!”