Burning Darkness (28 page)

Eric stepped out, putting himself way too close to Neil. There was no place for him to get out of sight if Neil started his crushing thing.

Eric crossed his arms over his chest. “We finish this, here and now.”

Neil let out a dramatic breath of relief. “Finally.”

“Take me on like a man. No abilities. Don’t hide behind your powers.”

Neil chuckled. “You are trying to appeal to my ego? My sense of fairness. Or manliness? That might work if I were a man.”

Eric took another step closer to Neil. “What are you?”

“Far more powerful than you. I’m sure you would have already incinerated me if you could. What you did to my building was irritating, and I will enjoy crushing you just for that. You know you can’t defeat me, and yet you keep trying. It’s amusing, admirable even, but as you said, it’s time to finish it.”

Eric’s gaze flicked twice to the left, her signal. She started the engine and Eric pushed Neil back. He wasn’t expecting that, and his arms windmilled as he lost his balance and fell backward. The propeller was instantly a blur.

Neil’s hand went up. The propeller stopped. His face was ashen, though eerily passive. “Now, that wasn’t fair at all.”

No, no, no.

She pulled the red lever back in case the propeller started again. Neil twisted to the right, reaching out as though to grab something and fling it toward Eric. A pipe flew through the air. She froze time and launched out of the plane’s cabin. How many seconds did she have? At any moment time would resume, and that pipe would slam into Eric’s beautiful face. Fear squeezed her chest. Just one more second, that’s all she needed. She leapt, fingers reaching for the pipe.
Hold, another few seconds.
She grabbed it out of the air, throwing it to the floor where it clanged on the concrete.

Time resumed as soon as she reached the plane. Neil blinked, looking at the pipe.

“No, little girl, you don’t get to use that trick on me again.” He held out his hand toward her, and she ducked out of sight. Nothing happened.

Little girl
, like Eric called her. Bastard had no right to call her that.

The plane jerked, as though a giant had hit it. It didn’t tip over, but she fell against the side door. Before she could right herself, Neil threw Eric against the corrugated metal wall, his hand shaking as he pinned Eric there. Eric’s face was in a painful grimace as he twisted to get free.

“Want down?”

Eric dropped to the floor, landing on top of the tool chest and toppling them both to the floor. Tools hit the floor and scattered. He pushed away the chest and staggered to his feet.

Neil looked toward the ceiling of the hangar and moved his fingers in a clawlike action. The metal tore at the top, like a cut, making a screeching noise. He left it sticking out. Then he pointed at Eric, and like a psychotic orchestra director, waved his hand to send Eric flying toward the jagged edge.

She froze time. Eric kept flying toward it. Neil had disabled her ability, too.
Noooo!

Eric put out his hands as he reached the sharp edge, grabbing onto the opening as his body hit the wall. His hands bled as he held on and pushed away from the sharp edge, physical force against psychic force. She heard his grunts of strain.

Stop!

Neil pulled Eric back, and he lost his grip. Her heart stopped beating, she stopped breathing. Eric’s body slammed toward the edge. He put his hand out, and the metal tore through it. He let out a scream of agony as blood streamed down the metal. He tried to fight the force by using his good hand. It wasn’t enough.

Neil turned Eric sideways, pinning him against the wall just below the edge. The top of the metal peeled farther, curling around him. He rolled, the metal peeling back with the screeching sound, curling around and around him. Only his head and lower legs were visible. It stopped, leaving him suspended halfway up the wall. Trapped. A slice of morning sky showed in the strip of opening above him.

Eric tried to wriggle out but he was pinned tight.

Neil walked closer, looking up at him. “You have a bond with the girl, and I know how it pains you to see her hurt. So you shall watch her die, and I will breathe in your agony, draw it into my cells. I can’t manufacture those feelings myself, you see. I need to experience them through you humans, and you give me such a variety. It seems you thrive on them, too, though mostly the negative ones. Where I am from, the humans self-destructed.” He inhaled deeply and then turned toward the plane. “Watch me explode her. It’ll make such a mess in the plane, but I have time to clean it up before my next mission.”

The Amish village. The children, the innocent.

Neil smiled. “Before you both go, you should know that your friends are, at this moment, being infected with the Essence. My brother is at the ventilation pipe, ready to send it down into the air system. I want you to think about how they’ll turn on each other, become animals, like Sayre, mindlessly killing anyone in sight. You can see it clearly, can’t you? Yes, I feel it.”

Eric’s fury reddened his face and he tried even harder to break free. She started the plane again and pushed the black knob forward like she’d seen Eric do before. It didn’t move. Blocks! She’d seen blocks next to the tires. Dammit!

Neil walked closer to her, their eyes locking. His were blank, empty of anything that resembled being human. He wasn’t human, that’s what he’d implied.

Pain rocketed through her body. She tried to push him out but he was too strong. She curled up, unable to move out of his view. White lights burst behind her closed eyes.
Have to stop this. Stop him.

Pain. I can’t take . . . much . . . more.

Wait. An idea.

She had one last chance. She projected out of her dying body, through the propeller, to stand behind Neil. He walked closer to the plane. One step. Then another. Gathering what strength she had, she pushed him. His energy was dense, heavy. He fell forward, his head turning back to her, eyes stark. In an instant the air from the propeller sucked him in.

She flew back to her body. The plane shook. She rolled to the floor. The unearthly sound of flesh and blood splattering everywhere rocked her senses. The engine gasped and choked, and then ground to a halt. Silence descended like death. She dared to look out the window. Blood and matter covered the windshield. On the outside, not the inside, as he’d intended. Not hers, but his.

Eric!

She scrambled out, sliding on the blood all over the concrete floor, fighting to keep her balance as she ran to him.

“You were fantastic, baby,” Eric said in a strained voice. “You all right?”

She was breathless. “Yes. You? Are you . . . okay?”

“I can’t take deep breaths, but I could be worse. I have no idea how I’m going to get down.”

A low male voice said, “I can help.”

They both looked toward the front of the hangar. A man stood there, extraordinarily tall, shaved head and eerie, light violet eyes. He wore a black trench coat, and his shoes scraped on the floor as he walked toward them.

Eric said, “Fonda, get out of here.”

She didn’t take her eyes off the man. “I’m not leaving you.”

“She’s perfectly safe,” the man said, coming to a stop beside her. He acknowledged her with a nod, his expression blank, neutral. “Nice job.”

“You’re Pope,” Eric said.

The wild card who’d worked with Darkwell. She’d never seen him during her time there.

He hadn’t hurt Nicholas and Olivia. That’s what she latched onto. “You said you could help.”

He raised his hands toward Eric. Her heart tightened. His arms shook with the strain, as Neil’s had. Eric started to roll upward, the strip of metal unfurling, warped and wavy beneath him. Once Eric was free, Pope slowly lowered his arms, and Eric floated down in sync with his movement. The second his feet touched the floor, he ran to Fonda, putting himself between her and Pope, one hand twining around hers and pulling her against him.

He held his other hand, cut and bleeding, out to his side. His face was pale from the pain, and she could hear how it stole his breath away. “Who are you?”

“It seems you already know. We don’t have time to chat. Your friends are in trouble.”

The Essence! “And why does that matter to you?”

“I’m your ally. And you do matter to me, very much. All of you.”

Eric’s body stiffened. “If you’re our ally, why didn’t you step in when that son of a bitch was wrapping me up like a lid on an anchovy tin?”

He smiled. “Because I knew you would succeed here. You won’t succeed in saving your friends without my help.”

Eric said, “Neil told us his brother is infecting my people with the Essence.”

“Yes, that is his plan.”

“Lucas won’t be affected. He’s had the antidote.”

“No, he’ll be killed by the others. They’re sitting there waiting, all armed and ready to kill. Very easy to turn their guns on each other.”

“But you worked with Darkwell,” Eric said.

“I let Darkwell think I was working with him. What I was doing was protecting you. I cleaned the messes that might have exposed you. By the laws of where I come from, I cannot interfere, but I have broken those laws in small ways.”

“Like letting me know that Fonda’s body had to be close to her soul.”

“Yes.” Pope walked several yards away, stopping in front of a smattering of glowing jellylike substance roughly the color of his eyes. Eric stepped to the side to see what he was doing, taking her with him.

“This is Neil Bishop’s Essence. His life force.” Pope turned to them. “This is what Richard Wallace found that day he followed the supposed meteorite. This is what was in your parents, what’s in you.” He turned toward the blob again, reaching his hand toward it. His fingers splayed, vibrated. “I can’t leave this here. He’s not dead until his life force is gone.”

The blob glowed, first white, and then red, and then smoke rose from it. It turned black, drying into a crusty black pile of coal, and then burned down to a black spot on the concrete.

Eric walked toward the door, which was still closed. How had Pope gotten in? “We have to go to Magnus’s place and get the antidotes before we go to the shelter. It’s the only way to save them.”

“It’ll be far too late by the time you drive there. But I can get you there in seconds.”

They both stopped, turning to look at him. “Seconds?” she asked.

“How do you think I got here?”

Or to the warehouse when he found Nicholas and Olivia. He’d appeared like a ghost, they said.

“I can teletransport. If you hold onto me, you go, too.”

Eric looked at her, worried.

“Let’s do it,” she said. “We have nothing to lose.”

Eric’s mouth tightened. “I don’t like it.”

“I can’t do anything to help them,” Pope said. “If I use my power to kill in combat, I will be executed. You’ll have to face Malcolm. And the only way you can reach them in time is to go with me.”

“Okay.” Eric turned to her. “You take the truck back.”

“Oh, no, you don’t. I’m going, too.”

He released a quick, frustrated breath. “To Magnus’s. Then you stay there.”

Yeah, right. He needed her. And she needed to help him save his people. She tried to ignore the fatigue that stole through her, the aftereffect of using her abilities.
No time to be tired now.

Pope said, “Quickly, I must tell you what you’ll be facing when you reach the bomb shelter. Malcolm has a shield over it, so we cannot transport into the shelter itself. We will arrive exactly where Malcolm is, and hopefully we can stop him before he infects your friends. He can’t squeeze your insides or move things, but he can make you see things that aren’t there. He will use that to weaken you. You will have to kill him before you can get into the shelter. It’s the only way to destroy the shield.” He pointed to Eric’s ruined hand. “You’re going to need both your hands.” They watched, she in astonishment, as Eric’s hand healed, and then every bruise, scratch, and cut disappeared, too.

They walked toward Pope, who held out his arms. “Put your hands on me. You’ll feel a whoosh through your body, and everything will go dark for a second.”

The moment they touched him, that’s exactly what happened.

E
ric could see it was exactly as Pope had described. Luckily, he grabbed Fonda’s hand just before they went into the darkness and could still feel her. Thank God he could leave her with Magnus for safekeeping. They appeared in the inner courtyard of the compound, where a fountain in a black pond bubbled. The koi in the pond ducked with several splashes. He felt his body, solid, and he sought out Fonda. She smiled, relief on her face.

Pope looked around.

Eric, his grip still on Fonda, ran toward the front part of the house where a light was on. He banged on the door, and Magnus and Lachlan appeared.

Magnus opened the door, surprise on his expression. “What the hell—”

“I need the antidotes. Hurry, we don’t have time to explain.”

Magnus ran past him to the lab, though he was looking back at Pope.

Lachlan nodded toward Pope. “Who is that? Don’t tell me I have another surprise sibling.”

“He’s someone who’s helping us,” Eric said. Magnus returned, and Eric grabbed the box from his hand. “Thanks. I’ll explain everything later, including what you’re about to see. I’m leaving Fonda here. Keep her safe.”

He ran back to Pope, Fonda right behind him. “You’re
not
leaving me.”

“Yes, I am. You don’t need to risk your life for people you don’t even know.” He kissed her and looked at Pope. “Let’s roll.”

Just before the whoosh and darkness, he saw Fonda grab onto Pope’s arm. Dammit, he was going to kill her.

They materialized behind Lucas’s gallery. He recognized the man standing on the porch from his appearances on television: Malcolm Bishop. He eyed the three of them, his brown eyes narrowing on Pope. Eric took advantage of his focus and set the box of syringes out of sight.

“Pope,” Malcolm said. “I knew you had to be involved in this. But surely you did not kill my brother. That would be against the rules, and you’ve always adhered to the rules.” His smile had a taunt in it, as did his voice. The two men had a history together, obviously.

Eric said, “I killed him.” He didn’t want the man to shift his focus to Fonda.

“And so shall you die as well.” He turned to Pope again. “You destroyed his Essence, didn’t you?”

“It couldn’t be discovered. You know the rules. And I always follow them, as you pointed out.”

“No, you don’t. You brought them here. You are not our Liaison. You cannot interfere in any way. You’ve overstepped your bounds.”

“As have you. I don’t believe infecting people was part of your mission here.”

What mission? What laws? No time to ask.

“You’ve tried to start trouble for us before,” Malcolm said, “but no one believed you. And they won’t now, if you were to try again. Besides, I have diplomatic immunity. I’ve accomplished too much during my stay here, and you, Pope, have accomplished so little. You haven’t even been able to find out what happened to Simeon.”

“I know you killed him. You stole his Essence, didn’t you? He was on to you, and you put him in the receptacle.”

“He was a pest, as you are.” Malcolm heaved a sigh. “I can see this is going to get messier than I thought.” He waved his hand, and a shimmering veil surrounded them. “A little privacy.”

The illusion Pope had mentioned.

Malcolm turned to Eric. “Now, on to you. No, you can’t use your powers on me. I can feel the heat right about . . . here.” He gestured to about a foot away from him.

Eric lunged for him. A flash of white-pink light seared him and sent him to the ground. His vision blurred for a second, but he could see Malcolm wringing out his hand. “I’m a bit rusty at that,” Malcolm said. “Don’t get to use the bolt much. Too flashy.” He shot a look at Pope. “Too bad you can’t use your deadly powers. They’ll know, and you’ll have to explain yourself. You know what they’ll do, and you don’t want them to know about these people.” He flashed the bolt at Eric again.

Eric rolled to the side, ready for it this time. Malcolm shot out his hand and aimed at Fonda. The bolt went right through her, leaving a gaping hole in her stomach. Eric heaved, like that hole was in him. She looked down at herself, her face ashen, and crumpled to the ground.

“No!” Eric screamed.

It’s not real,
Pope said.
Remember, illusion
. This time Pope’s voice in his head was distinct.

His gaze was on Fonda. It looked real. So real. Agony froze her face. She reached for him, her hand trembling. “Eric . . . help me.”

He wants you distracted. Weakened. Focus on Malcolm
.

She was screaming in pain, calling his name over and over. His body strained to run to her. He had to trust Pope. Even if Pope hadn’t warned him about the bolts. He went for Malcolm again, body slammed him to the ground. He rammed his knee into Malcolm’s stomach, shoving the breath out of him. He had to put this guy down. No more.

Malcolm reached out and grabbed his arm. The electric shock sent him flying backward, rocketing through his veins and organs. He jerked and twitched. Whatever the hell Malcolm was doing, he was getting stronger.

Fonda rushed him. Fonda—without a hole in her stomach. If electrical aftershocks weren’t firing inside his guts, he’d have been overwhelmed with relief. She launched herself at Malcolm and he flung her away. She screamed as the jolt went through her. He aimed his hand at her, everything went dark for a second, and then she was several feet away. The bolt struck the empty ground.

She’d frozen time.

“You won’t do that again,” Malcolm said. “You won’t be alive to do that again.” White-pink sparks flew from his fingertips, vibrated along the outer edges of his hands. He was definitely getting stronger.

Fonda was looking at Eric, her eyes wide. “You’re alive. I thought he’d killed you. I saw you dead.”

“Fonda, get out of here!”

He didn’t know why he even bothered, except out of instinct. She never listened.

She rolled out of the way of another bolt that seared the grass and left a black crater in the ground. The blades of grass sizzled, the pungent smell stinging his nostrils. He saw the fatigue on her face, along with the tracks of tears she’d cried thinking he was dead. Her movements were getting slower. Malcolm was playing with her, wearing her out. Eric leapt to his feet and went for him again.

Before he could reach him, however, a white hot glow surrounded Malcolm, washing him out. It wasn’t anything Malcolm was doing, not by the shocked look on his face. He screamed as the light flashed brighter and then exploded in a shower of sparks. The heat blew Eric back. He landed hard on the ground. On the porch where Malcolm had been standing, he saw a charred section of wood.

Eric turned to see Pope standing with his arm out, a resolved, grim look on his face. “You weren’t going to win.”

He had broken some rule. A big one.

Eric ran over to Fonda, who was struggling to get to her feet. He helped her up, and she wrapped her arms around his waist and sagged against him.

“Stay here and rest,” he said. “I’m going down.”

The canister lying on the porch not far from the charred spot caught his eye. The lid was off. He ran over to the ventilation pipe. The screen had been removed. Dread hit him like a wave. The canister was empty.

“He’s already fumigated them!”

Pope was standing next to them, his expression even more grim.

Eric grabbed the box of syringes. “I’m going to stop them from killing each other.” He looked at Pope. “Take me down.”

Fonda put her hand on Pope’s arm. “I’ll freeze time so you can administer the antidotes.”

“You don’t have the strength to do that,” Eric said. “You’re about to drop as it is.”

“I’m not letting your people die.”

He felt the whoosh, and they materialized in the living area of the shelter. If he could have imagined a nightmare, this was it. Nicholas had a gun aimed at Lucas, who looked shocked and sane.

“Nicholas, you don’t even like to shoot the bad guys. What the hell is wrong with you? Put the damned gun down!”

Eric heard a struggle in the back bedroom. Rand pulled the trigger of his gun and nearly shot Zoe, who dropped to the floor and aimed her gun at him. Rand’s crazed eyes shifted to Fonda, Eric, and Pope, and he swung the barrel toward them and pulled the trigger again.

The moment froze, the bullet suspended only inches in front of Eric’s face. Fonda was still holding onto both Pope and Eric. “We don’t have much time,” she said, grabbing several syringes out of the box. “I’ll go down the hall. You take care of these guys.”

Pope took one out and turned to Rand, the immediate threat. Eric injected Zoe and then ran to Nicholas. He didn’t need to inject Lucas, so he ran down the hall.

Fonda called out, “Watch the bullet. Time will resume any second.”

Eric went into Lucas’s room, where Amy, Petra, and Olivia were in the middle of a physical fight. Fonda’s face looked strained as she tried to inject Amy. “I’m trying to hold on, but I don’t think I can do it anymore.”

He took two syringes from her. “I’ll take care of them.”

Amy came to life just as he slid the needle into her arm. She screamed and slugged him. She had the same crazy look as he’d seen on Sayre.

“Get that away from me!” Petra screamed, fighting off Fonda, who was holding the syringe.

Eric threw her to the bed and leaned down low over her. “It’s your little brother, Eric. Listen to me. I’m going to give you a shot, and you’ll feel better. Understand?”

She blinked. Fonda moved up beside him while he had Petra pinned and injected her.

“Nice move,” he said.

Olivia ran screaming from the room. Eric and Fonda went after her, only to find Lucas holding a gun to Pope. Nicholas and Rand looked dazed. Nicholas held up one of the empty syringes. “What the hell did you inject into us?”

Eric held Lucas’s tense gaze. “Don’t shoot him.”

Lucas’s eyes narrowed. “You brought him here. Are you nuts?”

Eric laughed at the irony, which was lost on Lucas, of course. He held up a hand as a signal to wait and joined Fonda, who had pinned down Olivia on the couch.

She was trying the same tactic he’d used on Petra. “Olivia, do remember me?” Fonda said. “You helped me once, after the fire. Now let me help you.”

Her eyes were moving back and forth. “No!”

Fonda injected her. Eric turned around and found Nicholas and Rand pointing their guns at him now, though their eyes were clear. Lucas still had his gun on Pope, who looked oddly unperturbed. Petra and Amy had come out of the hallway, rubbing the spots where they’d been injected, looking lost and confused.

Eric took them all in. “You’re okay now. Everything’s okay.”

Lucas tightened his finger on the gun aimed at Pope. “Everything’s ‘okay’? You brought the enemy here. You, the one who was the most paranoid about that. I saw you just . . . materialize right there with him.”

Petra gave him a betrayed look. “Eric, how could you? They’ve turned you. First you join up with her, and now
him
?”

“This guy just saved all of your asses. And our asses
while
we were trying to save your asses. Remember, I’m the one who shoots first and asks questions later.”

The three men lowered their guns, but their suspicion didn’t lessen.

“ ’Splain, Lucy,” Petra said, using a phrase he’d used on her before.

“Yeah, ’splain.” Lucas leaned against the wall as though all the energy had drained out of him. “Because one minute we’re down here, trapped with the doors jammed but otherwise normal, and the next, everybody starts freaking out and trying to kill each other.”

Petra said, “I felt this horrible anger, like a bolt inside me, and all I wanted was to kill someone—anyone. I don’t remember anything after that.”

“Sit down.” Eric gestured to the long dining table, tugging Fonda down into the chair beside him. “We’ve got a lot to fill you in on. First, everyone, this is Fonda. Nicholas, Olivia, you already know her, but you don’t know her at all. Just like you, she had no idea she was working for the wrong side. So whatever feelings you might have about her being the enemy, drop them now.”

Eric told them what had happened that day, but he still had a lot of questions of his own. “Neil said he couldn’t manufacture emotions, so he got off on ours. He said he needed to experience emotions through us humans. Which means he isn’t human, and also means part of us isn’t human. We already figured out that part is alien.”

Pope actually smiled at that. “No, not alien. This dimension hasn’t quite nailed it down yet, though some of your top quantum physics scientists are getting closer. There are many dimensions besides the one you live in. We—meaning Neil, Malcolm, and I—come from one of those dimensions. It’s a world not completely different from this one in some ways. In other ways, it’s very different.”

All the Rogues sat in silence and listened to the truth they had been wanting to know for so long. Eric squeezed Fonda’s hand and pressed it against his mouth. Petra, across the table, watched with widened eyes but quickly shifted her attention back to Pope.