Awaken Me Darkly (13 page)

Five minutes later, I was about to pull out my hair—and the nurse’s hair—because Dr. Hannah hadn’t arrived.

“Page him again,” I said.

“But I—”

“Who paged me?” a man asked behind me.

I turned. Dr. Hannah was short, only five feet five. He had a thick head of silver hair and equally thick glasses. “I need you to check Dallas Gutierrez and tell me if his condition has changed in any way.”

Dr. Hannah frowned. “I thought this was an emergency.”

“It is.”

“Nurse Walden—”

“Is busy,” I finished for him. “I want you to do it.”

Obviously exasperated, he rubbed a hand down his face. “Surely this can wait. You called me out of prep. I’ve got an artificial limb attachment in”—he checked his wristwatch—“fourteen minutes.”

“Then you’d better hurry.” With a tilt of my chin, I motioned to room 417. “Unless, of course, you want me to call my boss and have him run a crime search on your name and every member of your staff.

I can return later and discuss the results with everyone.”

“Uh—I’m sure that won’t be necessary.” He readjusted his collar. “Dallas Gutierrez, did you say?”

“That’s right.”

“Very well, then.” A long sigh seeped from his lips, and his eyes became heavy-lidded with resignation. “Let’s have a look at him.”

After taking Dallas’s pulse and blood pressure, Dr. Hannah flashed a thin beam of light over Dallas’s eyes. He uttered, “Hmm,” then repeated the action. Brow furrowed, he cut away the bandage over Dallas’s chest and inspected the wound.

“I don’t understand,” he said, glancing at me, then back to Dallas.

“What?” I was at his side in an instant.

“He’s actually improved.” Excitement dripped from his voice. “His pulse is stronger; his BP—blood pressure—is higher. His eyes dilate and contract perfectly. And look at this.” With a gloved finger, he pointed to a portion of the burned tissue. “See how the flesh here appears pink?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, pink indicates life. This morning, that tissue was black, dead, and completely unable to rejuvenate. Now it’s alive and trying to grow.”

When he began muttering about writing an article for a national medical journal, I gripped his shoulder and forced him to face me. “So Dallas will live?”

“I—I—” Grinning, Dr. Hannah scratched his head. “Yes, I believe so. For a while longer, anyway.”

That was all I needed to hear. “Call me if there’s any change.”

“Yes, yes,” he answered, distracted. “I’m going to order a complete blood count and an intralateral biopsy. Maybe a CAT scan to check brain activity. In all my years of medicine, I’ve never seen this happen before.”

I wanted to smile and frown at the same time. How could something so wonderful for Dallas be so disastrous for others?

Damn it, I only had four days to save my friend’s life.

I
went home and hit the bed fully clothed. I didn’t check my messages, didn’t eat or shower. My weary body ached and demanded rest, and the softness of the mattress beckoned like a knowing siren.

Sleep claimed me instantly.

As always, dreams soon followed, though these were different than any I’d ever experienced before. I dreamed of Kyrin. I dreamed he stripped me down, peeling away each layer of my clothing. His tongue moved against mine the entire time, his taste as warm and rich as brandy on a cold night.

Unbidden, my hands tangled in the silkiness of his hair.

He tore his lips from mine, and I moaned at the loss.

“Touch me,” he whispered.

Even in my dream I tried to resist him. “No.”

A slow smile teased his mouth before he crushed our lips together once again. I released his hair, ran my palms down the sleek brawn and sinew of his chest, then cupped the hard mounds of his ass. His skin felt like velvet, the hardness of his muscles a perfect contrast.

His body was as shaped and honed as any human. Better even. Bigger. His limbs were laced with sinew, so hot, so powerful. A girl could become addicted to such raw intensity.

“I need you, Mia,” he intoned.

I clasped my hands over his jaw and brought him down for yet another kiss. I tasted a swirling storm of hunger as his tongue swept into my mouth and attempted to conquer me. Utterly conquer me.

He groaned my name.

I awoke shouting his.

Panting, sweat-soaked, I lay there, my hands fisted in the covers of my bed. Frustration clawed at me, his heady taste still in my mouth. Cool air stroked my naked, heated skin. I sucked in a broken breath, hating that I felt seared. Branded.

Kyrin was nowhere to be seen.

Only a dream, I reminded myself. Only a dream. Except, when had I stripped?

God, I need a hobby, I thought, rolling to my side. However, nothing appealed to me. I didn’t have the patience to create things. Didn’t like to paint, knit, or shop. My only activity in my free time was to work out or train in street combat. Sometimes I read, but that was only research for work. Maybe it was time to stop living, eating, and breathing my job, though. Maybe then my dreams would quiet.

At least I wasn’t dreaming, as usual, of the aliens I had killed or the victims I failed to save in time.

I lumbered out of bed. My legs were shaky. After downing an entire pot of vitamin-enhanced synthetic coffee, I showered. I’d read that our ancestors had used water to bathe. I couldn’t imagine such a thing. Dry enzyme and glyceride spray was the norm now, blowing over us from head to toe in mere seconds. Water would have cost a fortune and taken too long.

Once dressed, I headed for the station house. There I picked up a new pyre-gun, replacing the one Kyrin had stolen.

I rode the elevator to level five, then underwent a retinal scan and fingerprint ID. I felt revived, centered, as I entered Lilla’s small, cramped cell. The
click, click, click
of the triple lock resounded behind me.

I’d left my gun and blades at check-in. Physically, Lilla was no match for me, and we both knew it. I could take her down without the aid of a firearm. Mentally, though…I just prayed I was prepared.

I was going to have to pump this stubborn, emotional Arcadian for every bit of information she possessed. I’d probably have to lie, cheat, and threaten. Whatever I had to do, I’d do it. I couldn’t set Lilla free—God, I couldn’t believe I was even considering the possibility—without finding the missing first.

Not even for Dallas.

I’d admitted that much to myself already, and it still hurt like hell.

But…

If I found the missing men, as well as Steele’s killer, I could set Lilla free with a clear conscience.

Sure, I’d be breaking the law—all predatory aliens were to be executed. I’d fought to put that law into place, and Lilla was definitely predatory. I didn’t care, though. I’d set her free and never regret it.

Urgency, and a small trace of fear, embraced me as I took stock of my surroundings. Urgency for Dallas, fear for the enclosed space. The walls were stark white, padded, and there wasn’t a single window. A cot was pushed against the north wall, and a toilet occupied the south. There was nothing else in the way of furniture.

Lilla lay on the cot, her hands folded neatly over her stomach, her legs crossed at the ankles. She no longer wore her seductive clothing. Now she had on a plain blue shirt with matching pants, both made of stiff poly. Her eyes were closed, but I knew she wasn’t sleeping. Serenity might radiate from her every pore, yet I knew better; I sensed her inner turmoil.

“I know you’re awake,” I said. I crossed my arms over my chest and waited. When minute after minute ticked by and still she said nothing, I added, my voice taunting, “How are your accommodations?

Satisfactory, I hope. If the warden forgot to put a chocolate on your pillow—”

That had the desired effect.

“Damn you,” she spat, jolting up. Her nostrils were flared, her eyes ablaze with hatred. “Who are you to ruin the lives of others?”

“I save human lives. If I must ruin yours to do so,” I shrugged, “so be it.”

“You are so smug, so sure. You will come to regret all that you have done, Mia Snow. Of this you can be sure.”

A prophecy? Or merely words of hope? Either way, I suppressed a shudder.

“My brother—” she began in her familiar chorus.

“Yes, yes. I know. He’ll eat me up and spit out my bones. The fact is, Lilla,” I said, casually placing my hands in my pockets, “I’ve already had the pleasure of meeting your brother, the procurer of human death.” I emptied my expression of all emotion. I couldn’t allow her to read me, to see the truth, once I spoke my next words. “Kyrin is in custody right now.”

Gasping, she stared at me, hard, searching for any hint that I lied. When she found only a blank slate, shock and fear flitted over her features.

I had to contain my sigh of relief. Until that moment, I hadn’t known the depths of her feelings for her sibling. I’d only known how I would have felt if Dare had been alive and taken captive. Desperate.

Knowing Lilla felt the same way about her brother gave me the leverage I needed. As long as she thought I held Kyrin’s life in my hands, I could use her love against her.

“You are lying,” she ground out.

Yes, I was. I held her angry stare.

“Kyrin would never allow himself to be taken.” She gripped the edge of her cot, her knuckles quickly losing all color.

“Allow? Oh, no.” I chuckled. “He allowed nothing. My pyre-gun gave me all the authority I needed. You do remember the effects of stun, don’t you?”

Another pause.

“Is he hurt?” she half growled, half sobbed. She leaned forward, anticipating my answer. “If you hurt him, I swear by your God I will destroy you and all you hold dear.”

“He is unharmed.” Maintaining my casual facade, I leaned against the wall. I stared her straight in the eye when I added, “For now. If he is to remain that way, however, I need an act of good faith from you. A token of your appreciation, if you will.”

“You are a bitch.”

“Yes. Yes, I am.” I slowly grinned. “But compliments are not what I want from you.”

Her fists clenched and unclenched, and her pale cheeks brightened with color. “What do you want, then?”

“Information.”

“About William?”

“Yes.”

She chewed on her bottom lip. “Is that all?”

“For now.”

A long moment passed while she considered my offer. “How can I be sure you will release Kyrin?”

For one brief second, I hesitated in my deception. I’d always prided myself on my honesty, and each time I uttered a lie, a little piece of my integrity melted away. Then, like the click of a camera, an illumination of black and white, a picture of the four missing men, and now the missing Rianne Harte, flashed beneath my thoughts, followed quickly by an image of Dallas, hovering close to death.

“You have my word,” I said in the next instant.

Her neck arched back as she studied the white, patternless ceiling. “Very well, then,” she finally said, and crumpled back onto the cot. “Where shall I begin?”

“Start with the first day you met William and end with you in this cell.” I wanted to know everything. Knowledge was power, and in this situation, power was everything.

“I met him about six months ago. He came to the club. I knew he was married. I knew his wife was pregnant, but I didn’t care,” she added defensively, daring me to challenge her.

“I’m not judging you,” I said. Whether the man had loved Lilla or not, he hadn’t been as happily married as his wife claimed in her report. Jaxon would have to talk to the wife about that. “When did your affair begin?”

“A few days later. He came back to the club.”

“Mark St. John didn’t mind that you and Steele were sleeping together?”

“Oh, please.” She waved a hand through the air. “His opinion matters nothing to me.”

“Then why are you seeing him?”

She gave a dainty shrug. “Because it amuses me. George likes it rough, violence excites him, but Mark likes to be dominated. Sometimes I like one way, sometimes another.”

“Did George Hudson care about the affair?” I stepped forward. Her relationships were about more than sexual preferences, I’d bet.

“Oh, yes. He hates William.”

I closed a little more distance between us. “Did he hate William enough to kill him?”

“He is guilty of many things, but not murder.”

There was conviction in her tone. “What are your feelings for George?”

“He was a means to an end. A bastard, yes, but I must admit it was nice to have an A.I.R. agent at my disposal.” Her expression frosted, and I could tell I was entering territory she didn’t wish to discuss. “Surely I have answered all of your questions. Will you release Kyrin now?”

I ignored her. “At the club, you mentioned that you’d tried to tell Steele he would be hurt if he didn’t leave with you. You said you tried to warn him about
them
. Who is
them
?”

A moment passed, then another.

“Who were you talking about, Lilla?”

She wrung her hands in agitation, twisting and untwisting the sheet between her fingers. Finally, she replied, “A group of exiled Arcadians.”

“Exiled from what?”

“Arcadia. What do you think? Idiot,” she muttered.

I’d been called worse. “Why would these people want to hurt Steele?”

More hesitation. “He had something they wanted.”

I almost growled in frustration. The woman refused to elaborate without direct prodding. “I’m tired of prompting you, Lilla. Tell me all of it. What did he have that they wanted?” Edgy tension worked its way into my voice. I was getting close, very close, to the answers I needed. “What did he have that they wanted?”

“Life,” she cried. She jolted to her feet and paced the length of the far wall. “Life.”

“Life. I don’t understand.”

“Then you are stupid.”

My jaw clenched. “Do you know any of the other missing people?” One by one, I ticked off their names.

With the questions now veering away from the exiled Arcadians, her features softened, though she didn’t slow her frenzied pace. “I am only familiar with the last one. Sullivan Bay.”