Bound by Darkness (13 page)

As he started yet another lap, the all clear finally sounded. For the first time in hours, the band of pressure across his chest relaxed enough for him to draw a full breath. He circled back to the elevators and waited. Once he knew how the Paladins had fared, he'd report in to Devlin and then go home.

He found a spot tucked out of the way of the emergency med techs waiting for the first batch of wounded to arrive. Only after the living were treated and stable would Laurel Young and the other Handlers start caring for the dead, hoping to ease their journey back to the living.

Larem might be able to help with that. His magic had certainly worked to bring Hunter Fitzsimon back
from the dead. Somehow, though, he doubted Laurel or her boss would stand by and let Larem stab any of their patients through the heart on the off chance his magic would work again. Even so, his hand strayed to his Kalith knife and held on tight as the elevator doors slid open, bringing the scent of fresh blood.

Devlin walked out all but carrying a young Paladin who was new to Seattle. After surrendering his burden to the capable hands of the waiting techs, he patted the kid on the shoulder and murmured something that had the young recruit smiling through his pain.

Leave it to Devlin to know just the right thing to say. Then for a few seconds, the look of confidence on Devlin's face slipped and his own exhaustion and pain showed through. Larem pushed his way past the growing crowd to the weary leader's side.

Devlin's eyes widened in surprise. “What do you want? You shouldn't be anywhere near here right now.”

Larem latched on to Devlin's thick arm and held on tight. “Stand still,” he ordered.

He quickly chanted one of the new spells he'd learned, pulling energy from the electric lights overhead. For a second their glow actually dimmed as he felt the healing power pour through him and into the Paladin.

“What the hell was that?” Devlin whispered as he jerked his arm free of Larem's grasp.

For the first time in hours, Larem smiled. “That was me giving you enough energy to chew out my ass. What was I thinking?”

Devlin rested the point of his sword on the floor and
leaned on the pommel for support. “And I want to do that why?”

Before Larem could reply, a voice in the back of the crowd yelled, “One of the Others escaped! Kill him!”

Devlin brought his sword back up into fighting position as they all looked around for the enemy. A guard unfamiliar to Larem stood pointing right at him from across the crowd. Then there was a bloodcurdling scream as a sword came slashing through the air straight at Larem. He blocked one blow with his own blade while Devlin wrestled the guard to the floor with the help of Trahern, who had just stepped off the elevator. The whole time, the guy kept screaming.

Larem backed away, hoping the guard would calm down if he got out of the line of sight. Instead of calming down, though, the guard continued to thrash, almost succeeding in bucking off his captors. “He's getting away! He's getting away! Kill him before he kills us!”

“Son of a bitch! Will somebody please tranq this guy?” Devlin bellowed.

One of the medics quickly filled a syringe and jabbed it into the guard's arm. Larem had no idea what drug it was, but it was fast acting. The guard's eyes rolled up in his head and his body went slack.

Devlin and Trahern stood aside to let the medics take over. When it seemed order had been restored, Devlin turned back to Larem. As soon as he did, he blinked twice and snagged the arm of one of the medics, pointing in Larem's direction.

What were they looking at? Then he felt the warm drip, drip, drip along his leg. He glanced down to
see the right side of his jeans was already soaked with blood—his blood. How had he missed noticing that the guard had actually landed a blow?

But now that he knew, the pain started, followed by waves of dizziness. He dimly heard someone shouting his name as the floor came rushing up to meet him. When the darkness threatened to overwhelm him, he fought against it, knowing it was a losing battle.

Devlin was cursing, but Larem was pretty sure that it was Trahern who'd drawn his sword and stood over him. Protecting him? Really? It was too much to assimilate, his thoughts too slippery to hold on to. Finally, it was just easier to embrace oblivion and let the world fade away.

T
he numbers all blurred together and nothing added up. Sasha rubbed her eyes, hoping that it would help her make sense out of the data. But no, it was all still gibberish. There had to be a pattern lost somewhere in all those columns of numbers, and she was determined to find it. Just not now.

Yesterday had been a total disaster. Despite Lonzo's note, she'd acted so stupidly, venturing down into the tunnels. And if in fact he hadn't written the note, who had? And why? At this point, would anyone even believe her that the note actually existed?

No matter what, she definitely owed apologies to more than just Larem. Considering everything, she was surprised that Devlin hadn't yet called to rip into her over what had happened.

No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than her phone rang. Ignoring it would be the coward's way out, so she reached for the receiver and braced herself
for the worst. But instead of a mighty roar, she was relieved to hear a different man's voice—her father's.

She punched the button to put him on speakerphone. “Hey, Dad, how are you?”

His familiar voice filled her office. “I'm fine. I'm more worried about how you're doing.”

Guilt had her wincing. “Why? What have you heard?”

She regretted the words as soon as they slipped out.

“Nothing, but it sounds as if maybe I should have. What's going on out there, Sasha?” His tone made it clear he'd tolerate no evasions.

She settled for a half-truth. “The barrier has been unstable in the region for a few days. You know how it is. That always makes things tense for everyone involved.”

Especially for her this time, not that she was going to tell her father about that. If he found out, the Regents would likely order her to catch the first plane back to St. Louis, and she'd spend the rest of her career counting paper clips to make sure everyone got their fair share.

Luckily, her father knew exactly how bad things could get whenever the barrier decided to yo-yo for days at a time. “How many casualties?”

“I'm waiting on the final report.” Or actually, any report at all, something she'd have to check into as soon as she got off the phone.

“If it keeps up, inform the Board in case we need to send in some temporary reinforcements.”

She really hoped it didn't come to that. They both knew that if they pulled Paladins to help one area, that
left someone else shorthanded. “I'll let Devlin know when I talk to him.”

“Good idea.”

As he spoke, she could hear him tapping his pen on his desk, a sure sign he had something on his mind, most likely something she wouldn't like. It wasn't long in coming.

“So otherwise, how are you doing, Sasha? Got anything to report yet on the mess Kincade left behind?”

She so didn't need the great inquisition every time they talked. “Are you asking as a Regent or as my father?”

To her relief, he actually laughed. “Okay, maybe a little of both. How about I take off my Regent hat and settle for just being your dad?”

“Well, in that case, I'm doing fine. There's a lot to learn, not to mention a whole new cast of characters for me to get to know. The good news is that I think I may have a lead on a place to live. I'll know more by the end of the week.”

Not that her father would be happy to hear that little tidbit. He'd made it perfectly clear that once she had done a full review of the current state of affairs in the Seattle region, she was to come straight home. That last part wasn't going to happen, not if she could help it.

There was a long pause followed by a heavy sigh. When he spoke again, resignation mixed with a dash of humor in his voice.

“Time out for a nag from your parental unit: make sure the place has a security system and is in a good neighborhood.”

She smiled and shook her head. “I will, Dad. Besides, it was Dr. Young who offered to rent me her condo. I figured I could trust her judgment, considering how well respected she is within the organization.”

That was true, at least in certain quarters. There were also those who thought her efforts to drag Paladins back from the edge of insanity were too radical to be trusted. However, Sasha was determined to funnel every last dime she could into helping Laurel pursue her studies.

Even if she managed to save only one Paladin, it would be worth it. No one deserved to suffer the way David had.

Despite his warrior nature, he'd been nothing but gentle with her. They'd had so much fun together; the man had sure known how to have a good time. She'd been naive enough to think their time together would be measured in decades, not months.

Sasha suddenly realized her father had started talking again.

“I didn't quite catch that,” she admitted.

“It was nothing important. You're obviously distracted, so I should let you go.” He sounded hurt.

“Sorry, Dad, I've got a meeting coming up, and I'm still getting ready for it.” She laughed softly as she added, “The one thing I learned from you is to always be better prepared than everyone else at the table.”

He sounded a little happier when he responded. “Too late to butter up the old man, Sasha. I know you've got a big job on your hands cleaning up Kincade's mistakes. Let me know if I can help. I'd certainly be glad to
vet your reports before you send them to the Board and make suggestions if you'd like me to.”

“Thanks, Dad. I appreciate the offer.” Although she wouldn't take him up on it. She needed the Regents to see her as an individual, not merely an extension of her father.

“Okay, then. Don't be so long between phone calls, young lady. I worry. So does your Uncle George, although he won't admit it.”

“I promise to give him a call. Take care, Dad.”

After hanging up, Sasha rubbed her temples, trying to ease her headache. She kept trying to tell herself that she'd put the events of yesterday behind her but knew it for the lie it was—she'd been jumpy and tense all day.

And not just because she kept expecting Devlin Bane to show up in her doorway demanding answers or even her resignation. How bad had things been after the dust settled?

She shut down her computer. It was time to go find some answers. Rather than confront the Paladin in his office, she'd do an end run and check in with Laurel instead. Besides, the Handler was closer, since the medical labs were also located in the admin building just two floors down from Sasha's own office.

The two guards on duty snapped to attention when she stepped out of the elevator. As soon as they recognized her, they abruptly turned back to the security monitors in front of them. Neither one even so much as smiled, which struck her as odd. Up until today, they'd both been friendly enough. Obviously the fighting had cast a pall over everyone's mood.

She headed across the lobby to the medical labs where Laurel and the other Handlers worked. Given what Sasha knew about Paladin physiology, most of the warriors should've been treated and released by now, leaving only the most seriously injured—and the dead—as patients.

The doors to the lab swung open with a soft whoosh; the air was chilly and scented with chemicals and stale blood. Sasha paused just inside and shivered.

One look around had her considering a quick exit. The near side of the lab was crowded with stainless steel tables that served as patient beds. They were all full. On the far side, a single table stood alone, curtained off from view. She wasn't sure she really wanted to know who was sequestered over there or why.

One of the techs was busy taking vitals, but when he spotted her, he went over and tapped Laurel on the shoulder. The Handler immediately motioned for Sasha to join her, patting the chair beside her. Sasha tiptoed around the edge of the room, skirting the hodgepodge of tables and trying not to disturb any of the sleeping patients.

As Sasha sat down, Laurel yawned loudly enough that her jaw cracked and popped.

“Sorry about that. What brings you to our little piece of paradise?”

It wasn't hard to see the woman was operating on willpower and caffeine. “Laurel, when's the last time you had any sleep?”

The Handler managed a small smile. “Don't worry about me. I've caught a few winks here and there, and Dr. Neal is due to relieve me in a few minutes.”

Laurel looked around the room. “Most of the guys are past the critical stage now and resting easy. There's just one that I'm still worried about. The usual onslaught of wounds is bad enough, especially when the barrier is going up and down.”

Laurel paused, her eyes straying back toward the curtained area. “But his injuries shouldn't have happened at all.”

“Was it some kind of accident?”

Laurel held her clipboard tightly. “No, it was deliberate, and that makes me absolutely furious. He didn't deserve this.”

Before Sasha could ask who was lying on that shrouded table, Devlin Bane stepped out from behind the curtain. His gaze zeroed in on her, and he made a beeline straight across the room.

“Laurel, his IV is running out,” he said, his eyes boring a hole straight through Sasha. “Before you go, though, can Sasha and I borrow your office for a few minutes?”

Laurel stood up. “Sure, but if you can't keep your voice down to a dull roar, take the discussion somewhere else. My patients need their rest. Especially him.”

Who
was
it behind that curtain?

“We'll use the scan room. It's soundproof.”

Without waiting to see if Sasha followed him, he cut back across the room toward a door in the far corner. Laurel rolled her eyes and then patted Sasha on the shoulder.