Halflings (15 page)

Mace lifted her through, careful of the now-bloody shards. He leapt through after her with the grace of a panther.

After shaking her gaze from Mace, Nikki dropped to the scientist’s side, loosening his tie and attempting to shake him awake. The sixtyish man wouldn’t stir. A rounded, smooth face remained motionless while fat tears formed in Nikki’s eyes. “Don’t die,” she pleaded. “Please.” She shook harder. This was someone’s dad. Grandpa, maybe. People expected to see him
later, laughing and joking. In a feeble attempt to rouse him, she pounded his chest.

Nothing.

Tears blurred her vision, but her eyes drifted up to Mace, who stood above both of them.

“Nikki,” Mace spoke softly. “If it’s his time, there’s nothing we can do to alter that.”

She frowned, anger blending with her despair. “That’s it? You aren’t even going to try to help him? What kind of a monster are you?” Loosening the man’s tie even more, she dropped her head to his chest, listening for a heartbeat.
Angel Boy might give up, but I’m not. Now
breathe!

Mace placed a hand on her shoulder. “We retrieved what we came here to get, now we have to leave. In another ten minutes this place will be swarming with police and firemen. We can’t risk being caught. I’ve found they’re not so understanding when it comes to missions from God.”

She pulled from him and began to give the man CPR. “Do what you want, Mace, but I’m not leaving until I know there’s absolutely nothing I can do. If you were human, you’d understand.”

Silence stretched. “Then it’s a good thing I’m not.” He grabbed her arm, but she jerked from him, her grip tightening on the still man.

Mace sighed and scanned the area. “Where’s the computer?”

She nodded toward the bushes where she’d dropped it.

“I’m taking it to the car. I’ll be right back. That computer is our only link and I can’t risk the police confiscating it. Just — Don’t leave.”

She shot him a look that said
You’re the one who wanted to run away.
Maybe he’d be able to channel that thought.

Mace sensed something wasn’t right. Pausing at the trunk, he lifted his nose into the air and sniffed. Hard to smell anything over the smoke, but hate drifted on the currents surrounding him. The hairs rose on the back of his neck, causing a shiver down his spine and a tingle through his wings.
What would Nikki think of my wings if she saw them? Will she ever look at me with the eyes of her spirit?

The wind shifted with his thoughts, and his gaze shot west to a parking lot where a Hummer perched at the corner and faced the burning building. He scanned the vehicle with eagle’s eyes. No one. Then he saw a flash of light glinting off metal above the vehicle’s bumper. Honing his eyes, concentrating, a man took shape. And a gun.

Tears flooded Nikki as she looked down at the now-alive scientist. “You’re okay,” she said through choked sobs.
And Mace said the CPR was pointless.

His eyes slowly focused on her own. “You came back,” he mumbled almost incoherently. Raising a trembling hand to her cheek, he brushed her face tenderly.

She placed her hand over his.

“You look so beautiful,” he said, voice cracking and rough from the smoke he’d inhaled. “Are you my angel?”

“I’m no angel.” She laughed and considered the irony of the comment. “But we did save you.”

His head tilted toward the building, neck straining. “It’s all gone, isn’t it?”

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“My life’s work. But you … Look at you. So beautiful, so alive. You saved me.”

He took a hold of her hand. “Thank you for coming back.”

H
e’d have to outrun the bullet to get to her in time. The crack of the gun splintered the air, but Mace closed in on his target. When he got to Nikki, he saw the blood.

Mace gathered her into his arms before casting a final look down to the scientist, now dead in the very dirt Nikki had revived him in.

She was wailing. Off to one side, he heard the motor of the Hummer come to life, then saw the truck barrel out of the adjacent parking lot. Rather than risk a leap into the midplane with her in his arms, Mace ran to his car and gently placed her inside.
Why did I let Vine talk me into this car? I might as well write “follow me” on every surface.
He flew over the hood and dropped into the driver’s seat. In less than a heartbeat, he peeled away from the fire.

“Too fast,” she mumbled, trying to wipe the drying blood from her hands.

Mace took the first side road, leaving the building just in
time to miss a police car sailing past on the main road and headed for the fire.

“You’re going too fast.”

Flashes of headlights illuminated the trees as he sped up. He needed to put as much distance as possible between them and the fire, and, even more urgently, between them and the Hummer. “No, Nikki. It’s all right. Halfling reflexes are way faster than a human’s. Trust me.”
Just not amazing enough to get to her before the gunman’s bullet.
He attempted to shove the thought from his head. She could be dead.
Good job, Halfling.
Mace prided himself on his awareness of things. Everything. He considered himself a watchman, not only over his assignments, a watchman over all. That’s why he’d keep an eye on Vine. And though he was conflicted about Raven, he’d resolved to watch out for him too, offering a hand of rescue to pull Raven out if he ever swam too far into the deep end. But tonight had taught him one valuable lesson.

Where Nikki Youngblood was concerned, awareness was a dangerous thing.

Mace glanced at the speedometer, then her as she scrubbed in an attempt to remove the blood. He knew the signs of slipping into panic. Shock would soon follow as her brain caught up to what had just transpired.

He turned down another side street. “I’m going to get you somewhere safe. Somewhere you can clean up.” One more turn landed them on Lake Road 182 in time to hear the siren of a second police car speeding past on the main route.

Rocks crunched beneath the tires, almost soothingly, as they bounced and jostled down the road’s rocky decline. Beside him Nikki moaned, lips white from fear. He placed a reassuring hand on top of hers, now clasped in her lap. Wild eyes shot
to him enhanced by the green shine of the dashboard lighting. The unnatural glow made her appear crazed, feral.

He scanned ahead with keen eyes and locked on water. “There’s a lake at the end of this road. We’ll stop. You can clean up there, okay?”

But she didn’t answer. She stared at him, unmoving.

He’d let her down. Never, ever had he messed up an assignment so badly, yet on this one he seemed incapable of doing anything right. Nikki could have died. The thought shot through him with such force, he nearly broke the steering wheel in his hands, stopping only when he heard it creak and pop. He loosened his grip.

“Mace, that man died in my arms.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” But it was his fault — he should never have left her there. He squeezed her hands lightly and she yelped.

He withdrew his touch. “What’s wrong?”

“My palms.” She searched them. “I think they’re burnt.”

Beneath the dried blood, he could see puffy skin and small white blisters separated by streaks, as if she’d pressed her hands to a barbeque grill. Horror registered in his brain as his glances shifted from her face to her hands and back.
And I was so worried about getting her cleaned up.

“It’s all right.” She tried to smile. “I’m fine.”

But the bewildered look told him otherwise. “Of course you are.” And for a quick moment his heart turned to gelatin. Duty, responsibility, right, and wrong were all blending into a mixture he had little hope of understanding. And no hope of controlling.

Her attempt at bravery didn’t help. It only heightened his awareness of her, and in turn the heightened awareness seemed
to slow his reflexes and shatter his equilibrium. A complication he didn’t need.

“Wha-what about you? You were in the lab longer than me.” She grabbed his arm, winced, and inspected his elbow. “I watched you break glass twice.”

“One of the perks of being a Lost Boy.”

“You can’t be wounded?”

“Oh.” He rolled his eyes. “Believe me, I can. But it takes quite a bit.”

He pulled the car to a stop when they entered a clearing. After opening her door and helping her out, they paused at the front of his vehicle, both halted by the shadowed strip of lake before them. Glistening black diamonds danced across the water beneath a full moon. Nikki stood perfectly still, and Mace followed her example, saturating himself in the landscape’s tranquility. A star-twinkling sky drifted peacefully above as if no horrors had tarnished its beauty. No burning laboratories, no dead scientists, no charred hands.

Taking her by the wrist, careful not to touch the burns, he drew her down a path leading to the water’s edge.

“I’m a little dizzy. Need to sit down,” she said as her knees buckled.

Mace absorbed her fall against his body then lowered her to the ground, where she leaned her weight against a rock.
What to do?

Pulling off his shirt, he walked to the water. Cold wetness absorbed through the toes of his shoes as he sank his shirt, dousing it up and down until saturated. A few feet away she sat like a wounded bird, so helpless, and so in need of rescue.
My specialty
. He’d wrap the garment around her burned hands — and try not to wrap Nikki Youngblood around his heart.

His silhouette at the water made her heart thunder. She watched, now convinced there was a soft soul inside that shell of protection: he’d wanted to leave the scientist, yes, but only to keep her safe. And she did feel safe. Even though a bullet missed her by mere inches.

He returned to her with the dripping fabric. Before laying it on her bloody hands, he knelt down on one knee. “Okay?”

She nodded agreement, but winced when the material met her skin. She trailed each muscle with her eyes as he moved, gently swiping her hands. The pain lessened and his touch stopped her need to process what had happened. There was only him and her at the water’s edge. His full attention was on his task. Her full attention was on him, causing a soothing rain of calm to pour down.

His collarbone shifted in tandem with his shoulders. His skin was such a strange color, now that she could see more of it. Pale but with a subtle warmth, as if he’d been brushed with purest gold. A jewel on a gold chain hung at his neck.

He
was
perfection, more so than any bronze statue she’d ever seen. “Can I draw you sometime?” she said, voice a distant whisper, as if it belonged to someone else.

All of Mace’s movement stopped. His eyes searched hers as if reading much into her words. There was much implied. Did he feel it?

She noticed a bead of sweat above his brow ready to slip down his cheek. His forehead, interrupted by spikes of dark blond hair, tilted into a light frown.

She slid her hand from under the dripping T-shirt and reached to his forehead. Something in her caused a spike of
boldness. Her index finger pressed against the sweat bead. As she did so, water from the shirt ran the length of her arm to her elbow.