Night Resurrected (40 page)

their families and going.”

Vaughn looked exhausted. If Wyatt

wasn’t so fed up with the situation, he

might have felt a little sympathy for the

man. But not much. Hell, he’d seen guys

who’d had it much worse: digging

through piles of hurricane rubble to find

corpses that had once been family in

Haiti. Walking through a Baghdad

market after a suicide bomb had

decimated it.

Coming out of a damned cave and

finding the entire world different.

Everything you ever loved,
gone.

His mouth tightened and he drew in a

deep breath.
Calm.

“But even that’s not our biggest

problem right now.” Vaughn looked right

at Wyatt. “She’s gone.”

It took a minute for the words to sink

in. “What do you mean . . . she’s

‘gone’?”

“You know where Remy is?” Jade

interjected. She sounded just as pissed

as Wyatt felt. “What the
hell
?”

Vaughn drew himself up and scanned

the group with cool, no-nonsense eyes.

“I made the decision to protect her and

keep her out of the way until we decided

how to proceed. To be perfectly clear—

Remy was in my custody with her full

agreement.”

Wyatt was aware of a rising fury

bubbling inside him. What the hell gave

Rogan the right to do such a thing? And

to lie about it, to people who knew her?

“It was safer for Remy,” the mayor

said, fixing him with a cold gaze,

obviously reading his mind. “Safer if no

one knew where she was, or
who
she

was. There would be no chance

encounter, no accidental recognition—”

“But what you’re saying now is that

she’s
fucking gone
.” He couldn’t sit any

longer, and now he was eye-to-eye with

Vaughn. His vision went dark, edged

with red fury. “And there are people out

there—a mob—just waiting for the

chance to—”

The knock on the door was probably

the only thing that kept him from taking a

swing at the man—either literally or

figuratively. And Wyatt didn’t figure he

cared which way it would have gone.

His muscles trembled with the effort of

holding back.

Rogan turned with dignity—but not

without measuring Wyatt back with a

dark look of his own—just as Ian Marck

stumbled through the door. Behind him

was Simon, clearly the force behind the

propulsion.

In retrospect, Wyatt realized it was

probably a damn good thing things

happened the way they did. Being able

to grab Marck by the scruff of the shirt

and whip
him
up against the wall instead

of the mayor was doubtless a better

choice in the long run.

“Get your fucking hands off me,”

Marck spat, recovering quickly from the

surprise assault. He grabbed Wyatt’s

arm with strong fingers.

“Not until you tell me where Remy

is,” Wyatt said from between clenched

teeth.

“If I knew, I wouldn’t tell you. But

since I don’t, I don’t even have
that

satisfaction.”

Marck tried to head-butt him in the

face, but Wyatt dodged the blow and

jammed the other man harder against the

wall. It was all he could do not to plow

a fist into his face or gut, and then let the

rest fly . . . but, unfortunately, he

believed Ian. With great reluctance, stiff

with fury, Wyatt loosened his grip on

Ian’s shirt and let his feet rest back on

the floor.

“Last time I saw Remy, she smashed

me on the head with a fucking beer

bottle,” Marck said, twisting sharply

away from Wyatt’s grip. His movement

revealed a lump the size of a golf ball on

his head, and a bright red scar shining

amid matted blond hair.

“Well, that’s a hell of a souvenir.”

Wyatt

nearly

smiled.
Nice going,

sweetheart.
“When did that happen?”

“Last night. Right after all hell broke

loose. What the hell am I doing here?”

Marck glared at Simon, who’d been

watching the proceedings with his arms

crossed over his chest—blocking the

door.

“When did you see her last?” Wyatt

demanded, looking at Vaughn.

“About three hours ago,” he replied.

“And now she’s gone.”

Damn.
Wyatt turned back to the

bounty hunter. “The two bounty hunters

who just arrived in Envy. Do you know

them?”

Marck shrugged, insolence oozing

from him. Had to give the guy credit for

balls. He was up to his chin in a mess,

and he still copped an attitude.

“An albino man and a bleached-

blond woman in black leather,” Quent

said, his tones flat and impatient. “Know

who they are?”

“Lacey’s here? Sonofabitch.” Ian

Marck’s sneer turned disgusted and a

little discomfited. “Thanks for the

warning. I’ll be going now.”

“I don’t think so,” Vaughn said.

Simon hadn’t moved anyway, so

Marck’s retreat was foiled regardless.

“Not until you give us some more

information. We’re working on a damn

timeline here.”

“Yeah,” Marck said with a humorless

smile. “I know. Thirty hours until

everything goes up in smoke. Me

included.”

“You’ve had a big-ass death wish for

years,” Zoë said. “Should be no big deal

for you now. Unless you want to help

us.”

Marck’s response was a dry chuckle,

clearly indicating his position.

There was a knock on the door and

everyone swiveled to look. “Seriously?”

Fence said. “Who the hell is it now?”

Being closest, Simon poked his head

out the door and had a brief conversation

with whoever was there. When he pulled

his head back in, he looked at David.

“Your daughter is looking for you.

Apparently, she has a problem.”

David

frowned

and

exchanged

glances with Wyatt. “What sort of

problem?”

“Apparently, there is a dead body in

your room.”

Chapter 19

“A
dead body? In our room? Are you

okay?” Her father’s reaction was pretty

much what Cat had expected.

“I’m fine,” she told him. But “fine”

was such an inaccurate word to describe

how she was feeling after the events of

the last few hours. Jumpy, fired up,

confused, and determined were probably

better.

Dad had asked the question just as he

came out of the room where he’d been in

some clandestine meeting, probably

having to do with the resistance group

he’d told her about. It had taken her

forever to find someone who knew

where he was, and it was only because

she’d mentioned Ana and George that

she was able to track him down anyway.

But to Cat’s surprise, Dad didn’t

come from the room alone. Her breath

caught when she recognized the man

accompanying him.
The hot guy from

last night, by the stage.
Her cheeks

warmed and her heart stuttered.
Lucky

me.

“Cat, this is Wyatt,” Dad said. He

had a funny expression on his face.

“He’s . . . uh . . .”

“I’m going to help take care of the

body, but quickly. Remy’s still missing,”

Wyatt said. “We can explain everything

else later. What happened?” he asked

Cat, turning his full attention on her.

Intense
. That was the only word to

describe him. Up close and talking to

this guy, she realized there was a lot

more to him than mere hotness. He

seemed barely restrained, like he was

ready to explode into action at any

moment. His eyes were dark and a little

too hard; they kind of glittered, with

some emotion she couldn’t identify. He

was older than her, probably at least ten

years, and looked as if he’d
lived
. Not in

a debauched sort of way, but in a
real

life-sucks sort of way. Like Dad.

Cat realized with a start that Wyatt

and her father were both looking at her.

They had identical expressions on their

faces:

expectant,

impatient,

and

concerned.

“Yeah, right. Well, this blond lady

just kind of showed up at the room,” she

explained, telling the story she and Remy

had agreed upon. As close to the truth as

possible without giving away anything

important.

Not that she really knew much, even

now. Just the little she’d gleaned from

the conversation between Remy and the

woman. And she’d seen the small crystal

apparently known as the Mother crystal

—which Remy told her was causing all

of these problems, and apparently could

be the cause of Envy’s destruction.

“I guess she was looking for help,

because she was knocking on doors. I

must’ve been the only one around

because she knocked on ours and I

opened it. She was sick,” Cat said as

they started to walk out of the offices of

the mayor and city council. “I could tell

that almost right away. She came in and

sat down . . . got all short of breath and

clammy and weak . . . and then she

died.” She spread her hands. “I didn’t

know what to do, so I came to find you,

Dad.”

“That’s unfortunate for the woman

and her family, of course, but I don’t

think it’s an insurmountable problem,”

Dad said. He seemed irritated with the

simplicity of the story, tense in an

unusual way. “I thought something . . .

else . . . might have happened.” He and

Wyatt exchanged glances.

“Well, I figured since she had a

crystal,” Cat added deliberately, “it

might not be as simple as that.” She was

rewarded when Dad and Wyatt both

paused in their steps.

“What

kind

of

crystal?”

Dad

demanded as Wyatt said, “She was

blond? Not dark-haired?”

“Blond,” Cat replied. “Her hair was

almost white. And she’s a Stranger. Or

at least, she’s got a crystal right where

they usually have them.”

“Was she wearing a leather vest?”

“Well, yeah. She was. Is.” How did

Wyatt know that?

He gave no indication, instead saying

something sharp and violent under his

breath. Almost as if they read each

other’s minds, Dad and Wyatt picked up

speed and nearly left her behind.

Hurrying to keep up, Cat admired

Wyatt’s powerful stride and broad

shoulders, the confident, arrogant way he

moved. He had great arms, all muscular

and tanned. Then, noticing his dark,

intense expression, she couldn’t help

wonder if he might not be a little too

much man. Even for her.

“And she’s dead? You’re certain of

it?” Wyatt’s expression made her even

more unsettled as he looked down at her.

“She’s not breathing and there’s no

pulse. I’m guessing she’s dead,” Cat

snarked back as they reached the

stairwell. As if she couldn’t tell a dead

person when she saw one.

Wyatt’s lips twitched a little, then he

said a little more mildly, “Strangers

don’t usually die . . . unless their crystal

is removed.” Then he opened the door

and gestured her through.

“You can see for yourself,” Cat

replied. “Her crystal is still embedded

just below her collarbone. I’ve never

seen one up close, but how many people

have crystals embedded in their skin?”

She started up the steps ahead of

them. She figured it couldn’t hurt for

Wyatt to have the chance to check out

her ass, which, she’d been told, was

quite a piece of art.

When they got to the room, Cat took

her time opening the door as a way to

warn Remy they were returning. The

plan was for her to stay hidden in the

closet while Dad removed the body, and

she was supposed to duck inside when

she heard the sounds at the door.

Everything went as planned: Cat

opened the door to reveal the dead