Heart of the Witch (33 page)

Nick aimed his gun. "Drop it and step away. Now," he ordered.

The man's eyes crinkled as if he was smiling beneath the mask. "If I step away, the girl will die. You see, not only am I her tormenter, I'm her savior."

"Step the fuck away," Nick commanded.

The doctor shook his head and didn't move. Nor did he lower the scalpel toward the girl. "I've opened her up and closed her again twice already." He glanced at a heart monitor next to him. "She's stable at the moment, but just barely. She's open right now. If I don't close her, she will die."

The girl moaned, and her eyes fluttered. Nick's gun wavered, and he muttered under his breath. "For chrissakes. Is she conscious? Can she feel what you're doing, you fucking psycho?"

The Tin Man's eyes crinkled again. "I prefer 'fucking psycho
genius
,' but have it your way." His gaze dropped to his victim. "She's not fully conscious, but she was just a moment ago. Before long the anesthesia will wear off. If you truly want to save her, you need to back away and let me finish my work. I need to close her up."

A strange glow came into those demented eyes, and a thin sheet of perspiration dotted the man's forehead. "I've had her on the brink of death and brought her back. Twice! She's been pain free most of the time, but not entirely." He shrugged. "What fun would it be if I couldn't hear her scream even a little? Of course, too much pain and she would die on me. And that can't happen. Not yet, anyway." He sighed regretfully and shook his head. "Now, with your untimely arrival, maybe not at all. But I've had my satisfaction and I, quite frankly, don't want to die. So, I'm going to do as you wish and anesthetize this young woman, sew her up and save her life. Then you can take me in so I can go through the formalities of a trial before they find me insane and lock me up to live the rest of my days ruminating over the pleasures of the past few years."

His eyes went to Ravyn. "I want you to know, my dear. You were the most exciting of all my experiments. I'd hoped to have you one last time… there." His gaze dropped to the table. "It wasn't to be. But having you here to watch my final act is almost as rewarding."

"What the hell is
wrong
with you?" Ravyn's voice was almost a whisper. She knew the question was pointless, but she asked nonetheless.

"With me?" Those eyes took on a new look, and there was a touch of bewildered innocence in the mask of depravity. "It's not
me
. I was a victim, the recipient of another's heart. I have no heart of my own, so I'm not to blame."

"Good God, you're out of your fucking mind," Nick spat. "The heart transplant had nothing to do with your evil. You blame the man who saved your life by giving you his heart? A heart that could have gone to someone worthy? Someone who deserved to live?"

The Tin Man shrugged. "We're talking semantics, I suppose. Now I must get back to my work."

He turned away, as if Nick didn't have a weapon trained on him. Picking up a syringe, he shot some clear liquid into an IV tube. The girl's eyelids stopped fluttering, and her moans ceased. The Tin Man bent over and began suturing the gaping wound in her exposed stomach.

Ravyn glanced at Nick and saw the uncertainty on his face. Take him down now and risk killing the girl? Or let him finish and still risk his killing the girl—and perhaps somehow escaping?

Ravyn ached with the urge to put an end to the murderer's reign of terror. She could attempt to end his life and save the girl, but she couldn't promise she would be successful. After all, she'd never used her powers to take another's life. What if she made a mistake and harmed the girl in her effort to save her? No. She couldn't take that chance. Her grandmother had told her to trust Nick, and she would. Nick would get them out of this alive. Mortal or not, he would save them. She had to believe.

Nick's arm was steady as he kept his gun leveled on the Tin Man. His gaze flickered back and forth between the maniac and the victim. The room was silent except for the beep of a heart monitor.

"There," the Tin Man announced, tying off the final suture. He turned to face them, and too late, Ravyn realized that although he no longer held the scalpel, his hands were not empty.

Her mind registered his weapon half a second before she saw the muzzle flash and heard the report of the bullet, which whizzed past her. She whirled, and just as Nick fell, screamed his name. Whipping back around, she saw the Tin Man lower his mask and smile widely. He was still holding his gun, and he glanced at Nick's inert body and said, "Not so tough after all, was he?"

He walked toward Ravyn slowly. "Just take it easy. I know what you're capable of, but that's not going to happen this time. I've had the assistance of an old friend of yours, and he assured me you wouldn't attack me again. He says you and your friends are too weak. And he told me I can control you with narcotics." The Tin Man pulled a syringe from the pocket of his surgical gown.

"You killed him." Ravyn's voice shook, tears of rage nearly making the words impossible to say. She began to tremble, and blood pounded through her veins. She could feel the rage taking over, knew what she was going to do and couldn't control it. She had to, though. She had to control it so her powers would stay intact and she could help Nick. Maybe he wasn't dead. Maybe she could still help him.

She used every ounce of willpower she possessed, but still her arm lifted and her splayed fingers pointed at her enemy. The Tin Man was only a few feet in front of her, and she knew what was going to happen, but she couldn't stop. He looked into her eyes, and his own widened.

"You can't!" he screeched. "He told me you can't hurt me! You did before, and you paid for it! You won't break the laws again. He promised me that you won't hurt me!"

Ravyn's glance went to the painting of the austere-looking woman. Mother. Jay Haleck's demon. The source of his terror. Time to put an end to his misery.

"I won't," Ravyn replied. "But
she
will."

The Tin Man lunged forward, and Ravyn whipped her arm around and pointed at the painting. Blue flames shot from her fingertips, and the room darkened, then exploded with a blinding blue light.

"You stupid, spineless little cocksucker!" A voice, female yet deep and gravelly, echoed through the room. The Tin Man whirled and a scream of agony ripped from his throat.

"No, no, no!" He backed away, moaning and whimpering as the apparition slowly stalked him, the satiny mauve pantsuit making a
swish-swish
noise with each movement. The woman held a wrinkled, bony hand out toward her son, and then she threw her head back, cackling shrilly in pleasure.

"You must be punished, you naughty boy. Too long I've waited, and you must be punished!"

It was too much for the Tin Man. Just before Ravyn turned and fell to her knees beside Nick, she saw him shove his own gun into his mouth. The echo of the weapon was more muffled this time, but the red spray on the wall behind him was proof of its deadliness.

Ravyn stared at Nick. Dark red blood ran in rivulets from his chest to the ground. She whispered his name.

His face was chalk white, but his eyelids slowly opened. "I… How's the girl?"

Ravyn swallowed back tears. "She's okay. She's sedated. You're the one…"

He shook his head. "The Tin Man?"

"He's dead." She sniffed. "Don't talk. Hold on, I'm calling nine-one-one."

His lips twitched in a smile that became a grimace. "Too late for that, baby. It's bad. You see all the blood I've lost? But we did it, Ravyn. We got him. We got the Tin Man." He coughed, and as if to confirm his prognosis, a fresh torrent of blood seeped from his wound.

"It's not too late," Ravyn insisted tearfully. "You can't die, Nick. Dammit, you can't die."

His eyes lifted to hers. "Dying ain't so bad. It's dying slow that's a motherfucker." His facial muscles clenched one more time before he went still.

"No!" Panic crowded Ravyn's throat, and her chest ached. She couldn't let Nick die. She couldn't lose him. She
loved
him.

Her numb fingers fumbled into his jacket pocket for his cell phone, then stopped. He wouldn't make it to the hospital. He was dying in front of her eyes. She had to help him herself. But if she did that, he would surely know what she was. Her secret would be out, and she didn't know what would happen next.

It didn't matter. She couldn't let Nick die. She'd deal with the consequences no matter what they were.

Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back and placed her fingers over his wound. She let energy flow from her mind to her heart and through her veins. Felt it pump through her like the blood that pulsed from Nick's chest. Her skin tingled, and a crackling sound filled the room. Strobes of blue light shot across the walls and the ceiling and over Nick's supine form.

Ravyn looked down at Nick, holding out her hands which were sticky with his blood. His upper body spasmed, then rose a few inches off the floor before sinking back down, but the blood began to recede, fading away as if it had never been. The hole in his chest closed, and color came back to his face.

Ravyn went limp, the tingles across her flesh turning into an aching burn. It took all her effort to pull air into her lungs as she struggled to steady the quaking in her limbs. But Nick's breathing was even, strong. He would regain consciousness any second. She had to hurry.

She pulled out his cell and dialed 911, anonymously reporting the girl's injuries and their location. Rising to her feet, Ravyn stood for a moment, willing the trembling in her legs to cease. Then she stared down at Nick and slowly backed toward the door.

"Good-bye," she whispered. Climbing back up the stairs, she fled into the night.

Nick opened his eyes, for a moment unclear on where he was. The ceiling was unfamiliar, and he couldn't think with the pain slicing through his head. He must have been knocked unconscious, must have…

Suddenly, he remembered and rose to a sitting position, and at the same moment he heard sirens above his head. He looked around and saw the lifeless form of the murdering psycho. The white walls behind the Tin Man and his green scrubs were splattered with blood, bone fragments and bits of grayish brain matter. Nothing was left of the top of his head.

Had Ravyn… ?

No. Nick saw the hand still curled around the butt of the gun and knew what had happened. But there was only Nick, the dead guy and the injured girl. Ravyn was gone.

"Freeze, police!" The pounding of feet on the basement steps merged with the squawk of walkie-talkies and the wheels of an EMT's gurney.

Nick stood and faced Carlos Mungia and Scott Harris. Kyle Black followed. The air was ripe with the stench of blood and death. A low moan came from the girl on the operating table.

"I should have known," Harris sneered. "You sorry sonofabitch. What the hell did you do?"

Nick looked at Mungia. "Call off your dog and I'll give you a statement."

Carlos put a hand out and pushed down Harris's weapon. "Cool it, Scott. You know he's not our man."

Nick shook his head and pointed. "There's your man, but he already did your work for you. Killed himself. How is she?" Nick asked the paramedics transferring the girl to the gurney.