Darksider: Reveler Series 3 (13 page)

Him–not him.
The thought made him dizzy. In the waking world he’d be sweaty and sick.

Maisie had turned back to the conversation. Monsters clearly didn’t interest her, old news, but the proxy did. “And? What did you find out?”

Sera was looking angry, too.

Harlen tried to sit up again and was shaking badly by the time he managed it.

“Well?” Maisie demanded.

“Let him breathe,” Sera cut back.

The women were fighting.

“I thought he might lead me to Sera after she disappeared,” Harlen said. “But he went to a Rêve that looked and smelled and felt exactly like the San Diego Chimera headquarters.”

Coll sat heavily in a chair. “That’s a problem.”

“Lambert shut it down on his own. He thought someone had breached it, but it was just me in his head.”
Him–not him.
Harlen shuddered again. If he could just wake up, then he could throw up and feel a little better. There’d be no drugs to help him through it this time, either. “I can also report that Lambert is working with James Dugan, who is also working with Travis. I don’t think Lambert or James know about what Travis had been doing with Sera. They were irritated when he went missing. Didn’t know what he was up to or where he was. Perks, James called it.”

“And these people are…?” Maisie asked.

“Chimera,” Harlen answered. “We have two dirty Chimera.”

Maisie made a face. “So far.”

Coll leaned forward. “So Lambert doesn’t know anything about Sera.”

Harlen shook his head. “No. Thank God.”

Sera didn’t relax, however. She had her thinking face on, processing everything. The stalker nightmare was over, but that weight hovered about her still.

Maisie cocked her head to get his attention. “Did Lambert say anything about Jordan and Rook?”

“No.” The question didn’t bode well. “Why?”

“They’re missing,” Maisie said.

Coll looked over. “We don’t know that. They could be lying low. Give them time.”

“I know my sister.” Maisie looked like she was going to cry again.

The worry in Sera’s eyes got darker. “She seemed pretty tough to me.”

“Maisie, I swear I won’t stop looking,” Coll said.

But she went back to the window.

Below it, Travis screamed his frustration again.

“What happened after Lambert shut down the Rêve?” Sera asked.

Harlen took a deep breath, tried to focus his slippery mind. “Lambert went into the Scrape and managed to shuck me off. The monsters came after me”—lots of times—“but I guess I got away.”

“Did Lambert know it was you?” Coll asked. “Did he see you?”

Lambert had been yelling in French. “I don’t know.” And Harlen didn’t know if Lambert was aware that he could act as a proxy. What version of his file had he seen? There were other powerful people who wouldn’t want it known that they had condoned such a practice.

Sera put her hands to her face. She was shaking, too. Then she slid them back and gripped her head. She took a deep breath and seemed to exhale some of her tension.

Experience, even years old, told Harlen that she’d decided something and had made peace with that decision.

“So we start with James Dugan,” Coll said. “Follow him. See where he leads.”

Something else itched in Harlen’s memory. A funny thing. “Who is the Sandman?”

Coll twitched. “Where did you hear that?”

“Lambert threatened James Dugan with him.”

“The Sandman.”

“So I’ve said.”

“There’s an oldies song about him,” Sera said, standing. “You might’ve heard it.” Everyone knew the song. “They play it on Rêve Connections commercials late at night.” A dating service. “Can I please get Harlen home now? He did the thing, and now he’s done.”

“Uh. Done for
now
,” Maisie said. “The minute he’s better he’s going to look for Jordan and Rook.”

Sera started to argue, but Coll held up a hand. “They might very well be back by then. Sera, get Harlen topside. Take good care of him.”

That’s when the real shakes would begin. He didn’t want Sera to see that.

“What do I do about the creeper?” She tilted her head toward the window.

An exhausted scream rose from the street below.

Right. Travis.
Harlen figured he had enough strength left to kill him. “I’ll just be a minute.”

Black spots bombarded him when he tried to move.

“I can let him find his way back to the Scrape,” Maisie offered. “Let the monsters take care of him.”

“But if he makes it back to the Agora,” Coll said, “then Lambert will know about Sera and that she visited Maze City. And if the monsters get him, we’re guilty of murder.”

Sera shrugged. “It’d be his own fault.”

“Let me think about it.” Harlen would rather kill him one-on-one than send him out into the Scrape to contend with those cold monsters. “Maisie, how long can you hold him?”

“I’m staying until Jordan comes back.” A glace toward Coll dared him to contradict her. “If I’m not in the waters, my city isn’t either, and she might be like Sera, running from something and needing a place that’s safe.” Her chin dimpled again with worry.

“You can’t stay under indefinitely,” Harlen said.

Coll stood, too. “She can for now. I’ll argue with her if too much time passes.”

Another scream bounced off the buildings.

Maisie managed a strained, wry smile. “One caveat: He’s seriously getting on my last nerve. I may take matters into my own hands, and I want no judgment from anyone.”

“Well, at least make it hurt,” Sera said.

Harlen grinned through another shudder. “What she said.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

When Sera woke, she found herself in bed, though she knew for a fact she’d gone Darkside sitting up on the sofa. He must’ve carried her here.

Harlen was beside her, his breath labored. Sweat soaked his shirt and dripped on his skin. When a tremor hit him, he rolled away from her. “Do you mind if I use your shower?”

She didn’t know whether to grab hold of him or let him be. “Can I join you?”

“I think a need a few minutes, if it’s okay.” His voice was sandpaper rough.

“Yeah.” She shouldn’t push. Stupid to push. The man was clearly ill. “Let me get you a towel.”

By the time she got back, he was holding himself up in the bathroom doorway. Every one of his muscles was tensed. “Here.”

He took the towel, and she got her first good look at his face—ashen with deep shadows under his eyes. But he winked when he took the towel. “Thanks.”

She stood looking at the closed door, fighting tears, and then decided to get busy. Busy was her best way to cope. Busy solved almost anything.

Chimera was corrupt, Didier Lambert was a monster, and Harlen had pissed off him and his minions—they had no time to lose. It was a stroke of luck that Chimera didn’t know about her. Lambert didn’t know about her. They were safe here for the moment, but they had to get moving…and soon.

Rummaging in her closet, she passed over her suitcase and went for a backpack instead. She packed a couple changes of clothes but had no cash on hand. She’d have to stop at a bank as soon as possible, before Lambert connected her with Harlen. She dropped her nicest jewelry in a little silk pouch and hid it deep under her clothes.

She was in the kitchen debating her knives—
maybe just the chef’s knife?
—when she heard the bathroom door open. She restrained herself from immediately going to him.

Space. Give him space.
In the meantime, she whipped up a light lunch.

Finally, he came out, a big dark shadow of the man she loved.

“You need to eat.” She gestured to a covered plate. A Cuban sandwich. “Would you like some coffee to go with it?”

“Thanks, just the coffee though.”

Right. She’d wrap the sandwich to go.

As she poured the coffee, she broached the subject. “I think we should take my car.” They’d have to abandon it somewhere. “Stop by the bank on Third.” It was closest to the freeway. She was thinking of heading north to San Francisco. She had a friend there who’d put them up for a night.

Harlen’s gaze lifted to hers. “Um…where are we going?”

He was really out of it. “We have to leave. We have to run, like Malcolm and Jordan and Steve and Maisie. Lambert will be looking for you.”

His forehead wrinkled in confusion. Not a good sign.

“I’ll drive,” she added. “We have to get the hell out of dodge.”

Maybe the Indirect Surveillance thing cost him brain cells. Good thing he was so pretty.

The coffee steamed in front of him, untouched. “Let me get this straight: you’re prepared to leave your life, your restaurant, your success behind and run away with me?”

“There are kitchens everywhere.”

The confusion on his face deepened. “Are you insane? You’re opening a second place.”

She anticipated these arguments and could do him one better.

“What if you don’t wake up?” Thank you, Maisie, for that piece of glass in her mind.

“I’m awake.” He blinked. “Aren’t I?”

Very funny.
“I mean, tomorrow night. Or the next. What happens when Maisie asks you to do some searching for her sister? What happens when Steve wants you to proxy Lambert again? What happens
to me
worrying every second of every day that you are okay? Didier Lambert and his Sandman aren’t going to just let you go.”

“I don’t even know if Lambert saw me.”

“And you can live with that suspense? Because I even hate suspenseful music.”

His expression finally cleared. “If I have to leave town for a while, then you can just meet me in Maze City.”

She’d thought of that, too. “Did you see how Maisie worried about her sister? She’s waiting in her city right now, doesn’t care how long it takes. One night you won’t show up, either. And I will lose it. No restaurant is worth that. No. I have to be with you. I have to know.”

“You haven’t seen me for years, then in one day, you’re willing to drop the life you’ve built?”

Yes.
“I choose you.”

She’d done this whole argument in her head already. She had every road covered.

He shook his head. “If this is because you learned about the proposal and the note—”

“Do you remember back in the car when I asked if you still had it?”

“God, Sera. The note doesn’t matter.”

Duh.
“I know. I wasn’t asking if you still had the note; I was asking if you still had the ring.”

He stood and reached for his coat. His hand trembled slightly, almost imperceptibly, but she’d been watching for it.

“I don’t have the ring. My brother used it. And I’m not leaving. I’m going into headquarters now. We’ll talk about this tonight.”

“Harlen, no. Please.” This wasn’t in the script.

“There’s someone in trouble there. I have to help her out.”

“Her?” Figured.

He shook his head. “I have to go. Travis is trapped in the city, so it’s safe for you to go into your restaurant and check on things.”

She couldn’t believe he was leaving. “Can I at least drive you?”

“I’m fine. I’m better. I don’t want you going there.”

When the apartment door closed behind him, Sera staggered back.

***

Allison Bright was a hard woman. Her skin might’ve been softening, grooves deepening around her mouth, but in every other way, she was made of granite.

“I don’t have time for you today, Marshal Fawkes. You’ll have to call and set up an appointment. Shut the door please.” She sat at her desk, a 3-D holo of a Rêve on pause.

He had to warn her. “I have one quick question you should be asking yourself.”

She lifted a painted-on eyebrow.

“Do you know if you’re awake?”

The eyebrow slowly lowered. She stood and walked around her desk. “Are you offering to buy me coffee?”

If
coffee
was code for speaking privately, outside her potentially bugged office, then, yes, he was.

“I love coffee.” It seemed he’d caught her interest. She
did
know what he was talking about.

“It won’t help your review.”

“I’ll have to add a scone, then.”

“I like the cinnamon rolls.”

They were out on the lawn before she spoke again. “I don’t know how much longer I’m going to last. I’m exhausted. I try to float here at work, but I’m starting to doubt myself.”

He was relieved she’d gotten straight to the point. He would, too. “You have reason to be exhausted. You’ve been in and out of a Rêve fashioned after headquarters.”

Her brown gaze pinned him. “Do you know who’s behind it?”

He nodded. “I do. He just offered me a job. James Dugan assured him I’d take it.”