The Last Twilight (16 page)

“Someone with an eye for making a weapon?”

“Exactly. We didn’t tell anyone of our findings. We were afraid to until we knew more. The CDC, the military— people talk. They overreact. So we went back to map the area. To get a fix on just how big this thing might be. We told folks where we were going, just not why.” Rikki looked down. Collecting her thoughts, he believed, until he noted a faint shudder. Amiri reached out and grabbed her hand. Rikki squeezed it, and kept on squeezing.

“We were attacked on the way there. Some rebel militia out of Kivu. There had been problems for some time, but we’d managed to avoid them. This was different. The UN convoy was running late, an hour behind us, and we were too eager. We left without them. We had some guns, but that was laughable. We were scientists, not soldiers.”

“But you survived.”

Something flat and empty entered her gaze. “I was the only one. The only reason I did was because that UN convoy was coming. The commander of the militia got afraid. Worried about retaliation. Thought it would be useful to have a hostage, someone to use as a bargaining chip.”

Amiri controlled himself, barely. Fought for his voice. “How did you escape?”

“I almost didn’t. I was close to death. One of the men we had hired to take care of us had also been running late that day. Another person we left behind. Jean-Claude. He caught up. Found us. Me. Then he went back, met the UN convoy, and they devised a rescue plan. People died saving me.” Her eyes were still empty, her voice cold and soft and neutral—like reciting a shopping list, algebra, the name of a textbook. Like it was nothing.

But she began to shake again, and this time Amiri moved. He stepped over Eddie, behind Rikki, and cradled her inside his body, curling so close each shuddering breath felt like his own.

“Jaaved,” he whispered. “He wants the location of that reservoir.”

“Given what’s happened, it’s the only thing I can think of that would make me valuable. But it doesn’t make sense, either. If what killed those people is part of some biological weapon, he already has what he needs.”

“Someone
has it, yes. But not necessarily him.”

“So, what? Broker gave him the weapon? Sold it? And now the other guy wants to make his own?” Rikki shook her head. “We have two parties here. Unequal footing. Broker was the one in control today. Jaaved needed
him.”

“Broker was using the man.”

“Not to get me. He could have snatched me off the street any time he wanted.”

“He nearly did,” Amiri said, thoughtfully. “In Kinsangani. He wished to make a show of it.”

“Fuck that,” Rikki muttered. “Why?”

Why, indeed. “Who else knows of the bats?”

She faltered. “Just one person. Larry. Not the location. Only what we discovered.”

Something cold settled in his heart. “Wouldn’t he have informed others?”

“He understood the dangers. We felt like the scientists who built the atomic bomb. I destroyed all the records. I filed false reports stating the area was clean. The rebels moved in soon after anyway, so we didn’t have to worry about settlements becoming infected by close contact with the bats. We just… let the whole thing die.”

“You trust Larry.”

“He’s the only one who knows. I’m sure of it.”

That was no answer. Amiri exhaled, slowly. He thought of Max. “Larry asked us to protect you. Why would he do that?”

Rikki stiffened. “Does he know what you are?”

“No.” He brushed his nose against her hair. “The agency I work for appears quite normal. It is a good cover, one that allows us an outlet to help others. To not… let ourselves go to waste.”

“Bunch of do-gooders?”

“Oh, yes.”

“It sounds crazy. All of this, insane.” And then, quieter: “Broker doesn’t care about the reservoir. He said I had something.”

“Something in your blood.”

“I have a feeling that’s only part of it.”

Amiri’s arm tightened. “Broker is an old enemy.”

“You met him before.”

“No. But I have had…encounters…with his organization.”

“An organization that would have an interest in people like you and Eddie? And what about me, those other doctors you said have gone missing? The refugee camp. The
disease?”

“I do not know how the puzzle fit together,” Amiri said. “Only, that Broker’s interests, and those he works for—the Consortium—rest with money and power.”

“And you?”

“The Consortium has a history of collecting our kind. Kidnapping us, killing us, using us. They are…proficient at such things.”

Rikki sat up, turning. Studying his face. “They hurt you, didn’t they? They took you.”

He remained silent for a long time. Then, so softly he could hardly hear himself: “I was not the only one.”

She squeezed his hand. “How long has it been?”

“Two years.”

“Two years.” She laughed, a bitter sound. “Are they part of some government? The military?”

“I would not discount the possibility of such ties, but in essence, they are a rogue corporation. Business people.”

“And they find it in their best interest to keep your existence a secret?”

“To protect themselves, as well. Because they
are
us.”

“I don’t understand.”

He sighed. “‘The world is far more strange than you can dream, Rikki Kinn. Monsters are afoot, every creature of legend. Hiding before your very eyes.”

“And what happens when you stop hiding?” Rikki leaned close. “What happens, Amiri?”

He said nothing, but he did not need to. There were words in her face, living words breathing in her gaze, and he could hear them, already knew them by heart. She understood—the isolation, the fear—loneliness devastating as death, marching through the heart with a thunderous ache. She suffered it, too. He saw it in her eyes.

Amiri could not help himself. He touched her, his fingers gliding along the high round bones of her cheeks. She closed her eyes, leaning into his touch, and when his thumb caressed the corner of her mouth, her lips parted and the heat of her mouth washed over his skin, soft as night. Rikki barely breathed; and he could not move. He savored—so warm, so unhurried. Marveling that something so small could feel so thrilling.

He was hard for her. Hard and aching. And it frightened him.

“I am not safe,” Amiri whispered, almost desperately, foolishly. “Women are not safe with me.”

Rikki exhaled sharply, then smiled. “Are you sick? Grossly malformed? An
animal
in bed?”

A strangled laugh rose deep from his throat. “How can you make such a joke?”

“I have no idea,” she confessed, resting her head against his shoulder. Low quiet laughter escaped her. “But it feels good.”

And it did, Amiri thought. It felt too good.

And some hearts did not find each other, ever.

Amiri walked into the darkness. He listened, but heard nothing but the buzz of insects and the distant mournful cry of some prowling leopard. Scents charged the air, none of them human. Nothing dangerous.

And nothing that felt like home. Amiri could not even see the stars. He tried, and was hit with a longing for hot dry nights and the open grassland that stretched as far as the heart could fly. For the first time in years he wanted to see his father. Just one glimpse of that old golden gaze, his grim smile tough as leather and nails.

Enough.
Amiri closed his eyes. “Rictor, I know you are there.”

Air whispered across his neck, this time followed by the faint scent of something rich and green, like an early spring rain—a weighty presence, which made the cheetah stir uneasily, one animal to another.

I need your help,
Amiri thought, unable to say the words.

“My help,” rumbled a low voice. “You want a miracle.”

Amiri opened his eyes and looked into the shadows. “Eddie deserves one. He did not ask for this.”

“No one asks for death. Not even the ones who think they want it.”

Amiri swallowed his pride. “Help him. Please.”

Rictor said nothing. Amiri’s claws pushed through his fingertips, fur rising up his arms. The taste of blood still had not left him, and fury only made it sweeter. “You can save him. You can save us all. You have the power.”

“I have limits. I can’t interfere.”

“So you say. But I have found you do what you wish when it suits you. I am certain
Elena
would agree.”

“Leave her out of this.”

“How can I? She is the only reason I do not call you a monster.”

Something hard slammed into his gut. Amiri doubled over, caught his breath, then came up fast, claws flashing. Rictor appeared from the shadows. Caught his wrists mid-strike, holding him with a strength like mountain stone. Amiri had forgotten what that felt like.

“Good that you remember.” Rictor’s fingers tightened with crushing strength. “Hypocrite. Calling
me
monster.”

Amiri snarled. “I never tortured anyone.”

“You would have. Afterwards, you would have done anything they asked.”

“Like you? Licking their boots every time they commanded you?
Little pet? Mon petit meurtrier?”

“Do not call me those names.”

“Or what? That was what we were to them. What we still are. Murderers. Animals. They are here even now, hunting us. Nothing has changed.”

“You’re more of an asshole,” Rictor said. “Elena should have left you in that cage.”

“The same could be said for you.”

Rictor spat, grim-faced. “I killed the last man who went so far. Don’t think I’ll do any different for you.”

Never,
Amiri promised silently, but memories rose: the doctor, the lab, that woman who ruled them all with her black unending eyes. Too much, the thoughts were so real he could still taste the pain and humiliation of his imprisonment being shoved down his throat.

Rictor made a choking sound, and let Amiri go with a shove that sent him down on his knees. Both men stared at each other, breathing hard.

“Help him,” Amiri whispered.

“And if your woman becomes sick?” Rictor asked, hoarse. “Or you? If you had to choose, who would you give a life to?”

My woman. Mine.
Amiri thought of Rikki curled asleep in their camp, and his heart ached so hard he had to close his eyes to steady himself. Dangerous. He was a fool. He had to end this now before he fell too hard, too deep to run.

“Wishful thinking,” Rictor whispered, with such pain it brought Amiri up short.

But he had no time to respond. Behind him a low cry filled the night, so full of terror, so heartbreakingly agonized, the cheetah burst through Amiri’s knuckles, splitting skin with fur, claws cutting into his palms. Amiri did not think—he ran, tasting blood in his mouth, plowing through the tangle of jungle plants.

He found Rikki still curled beside Eddie, no guns pointed at her head, no jaws at her throat. Instead, her slender body shook with violent tremors, like her bones were trying to rattle free of her flesh. His heart died a little, looking at her—the entire world shrank to one floating spot in his swimming vision—and he fell to his knees at her side, staring, inhaling.

No scent of sickness. No fever rising off her body. Her eyes were merely closed, eyelids twitching wildly.

Just a nightmare.
Amiri’s relief was as painful as his grief, and he fought for breath, reaching out to touch her hand.

Rikki jerked awake, screaming. Amiri was unprepared, caught stunned, and only when her fist lashed out, slamming against his jaw, did he come back to himself. Sparks cracked behind his eyes. His head snapped back. He felt like his neck would break. Her strength was immense, uncontrollable; she moved like a caged animal, eyes open but still lost in nightmare. The scent of her fear, an all-too-familiar poison.

Amiri twisted, reaching out to haul her across his lap. “Rikki.
Rikki, wake up.”

She stiffened in his arms, still caught in the dream— and just when he thought he would be treated to another demonstration of her strength, Rikki let out a faint sigh and sagged against his chest. Tremors wracked her body, heartbeat fluttering, wild and small. Amiri felt like a giant holding her.

He felt other things, too. A raw desire to protect her that ran so deep from his heart to the cheetah it was more than instinct: primal, in his blood, burning down, born again in fury and desire and pain. He could not have let Rikki go to save his life, and it made him realize, with a jolt of pure fear, just how entrenched his feelings truly were.

Your woman. Your mate.

Amiri closed his eyes, fighting himself. Blindsided. Drowning. Shape-shifters mated for life, and the bond went deep as the soul; inexplicable, inescapable. Once found, never lost—rare as butterflies whispering Shakespeare. His own father had never found a true mate. Never just one woman, one heart to call his own. He had fought viciously against the idea, called it weakness. Madness. And it was, Amiri realized. All of this, madness.

“Hush,” he murmured shakily, pressing his lips against Rikki’s short hair. “It was a dream.”

“No,” she breathed, and her hands clutched the front of her shirt, knuckles pressing hard against her breasts. She turned and peered up at his face; he thought he saw tears, but her gaze slid sideways, over his shoulder, and her expression shifted into alarm.

Amiri looked. Rictor stood behind him. His gaze was hooded, his mouth set in a hard flat line. Rikki began to push away; Amiri tightened his arms, holding her close.

“Rikki Kinn,” he said quietly. “Meet Rictor. He is … an acquaintance of mine.”

“An acquaintance,” she echoed, sounding baffled, shaken. But she stared, and he watched her surprise slide into something sharper as she analyzed what little she could see of the man.

Rikki Kinn was no fool. She did not look happy. She did not smell relieved.

“You found us,” she said, voice flat. “How?”

Rictor’s mouth tilted. “No jumping for joy? No hugs and kisses for your savior?”

“You’re no salvation yet—and I don’t know jack shit about who you are. Answer my question.”

“Magic,” Rictor replied, with enough dry humor to make Rikki’s frown deepen. “Something you should start getting used to.”

“Rictor,” Amiri said sharply. “Enough. See to Eddie.”

Rictor gave him a long look. So did Rikki. Amiri ignored them both, reaching out to pat the young man’s hand. His skin was hot, even more so than before—and it seemed, almost, that the air around him shimmered.

Rictor knelt beside Eddie. He began to touch him and Rikki said, “No, don’t.”

He ignored her. “The boy’s already dead. His body just doesn’t know it yet.”

Rikki made a low strangled sound. Amiri swallowed hard. “You must save him, Rictor.”

“And if I do? Are you willing to pay the price?”

Amiri said nothing. He had little to offer but his own life, and that was something he could not give—not unless Rictor offered to protect Rikki, as well. And he knew better than to ask.

“You’re still choosing him over her,” Rictor said, and studied the woman with a cold scrutiny that made her stiffen in Amiri’s arms. Amiri stifled a growl, shooting the man a warning look that was completely ignored in favor of Rikki, whose scent turned hard, brittle.

“What choice?” she asked him roughly. “What are you talking about?”

“You.” Rictor’s mouth slanted once again into a cold smile. “Matters of the heart.”

Amiri would have attempted murder, but just at that moment, Eddie’s head moved; a restless jerk, followed by a twitching hand. His eyelids fluttered. Relief surged, though short-lived. Blood trickled from the young man’s mouth; a small stream, then wider, thicker. His throat gurgled with an ugly wet sound that cut Amiri to the bone.

Rikki lunged, reaching for Eddie. Amiri held her back. She twisted, struggling. “Let me go. We have to turn his head or he’ll choke.”

Amiri said nothing, still staring. Temperatures were rising, heat washing through the air, shimmering and rolling over his prickling skin like an open roaring oven— crowding the air in his lungs until it was hard to breathe. Rikki stopped fighting him.

Eddie began to twitch. Violent, restless, eyes still closed. Another nightmare. Death, idling.

“He’s losing control,” Rictor snapped. “Go, now!”

Amiri was already on his feet, Rikki in his arms, but it was too late. The world collapsed into a shower of sparks, foliage crisping golden and hot with veins of fire—the air itself etched with webs of heat and light— nowhere to run, no place to go. Eddie cried out behind them, a hard wordless yell of utter misery, and flames exploded from the ground as though they stood on the surface of the sun. Rikki screamed. Amiri felt a flash of pain.

And then Rictor was there, his arms around Rikki, his fingers digging hard into Amiri’s shoulders. The air became a vacuum; fire and smoke curling against an invisible shell, which turned green as sun-washed emeralds, pulsing with the same hard light that Amiri found in Rictor’s eyes; burning, unforgiving, cold as the air that soothed the pain radiating from the soles of his feet. Blood roared. Rikki shouted. Rictor closed his eyes, and Amiri stared into the maelstrom, searching for Eddie.

Then, nothing. Fire, light, all of it gone. Amiri found himself trapped inside a void, senses stuffed, and the only thing he could feel was Rikki in his arms, trembling. His knees buckled; he almost dropped her, and the both of them sank to the ground. Limp, boneless, sagging against each other. He hugged her close, pressing his lips into her hair. She buried her face in his neck.

Amiri’s sight returned slowly. The world was so quiet he would have thought himself deaf had it not been for the sound of Rikki’s harsh breathing…Smoke curled through the air, burning his nostrils and eyes. Nothing but thick snowy ash remained of their scant belongings and the surrounding jungle. No vines, no trees, no guns. The fire had cut an incinerating swath, spreading outward in a circle at least several hundred feet wide.

And in the middle of it, Eddie. His clothes were in burnt tatters, but his skin was pink and unharmed. Rictor knelt beside him. Amiri stared, unable to speak, too afraid to know. Rikki twisted, following his gaze.

“Eddie,” she said, hoarse.

“He’s still alive,” said Rictor. “Barely. He has minutes, at most.”

Rikki broke free, scrambling across the charred smoking ground to Eddie’s side. She touched his face, smoothing back his hair with a tenderness that broke Amiri’s heart.

“I’ll pay the price if you can help him,” she said, tearing her gaze from Eddie to look at Rictor. Amiri was too shocked to protest. Rictor also appeared surprised. Both men stared, and her eyes sharpened. “Don’t play dumb. Don’t you dare. Not after what I’ve seen and heard.”

“You’re putting too much faith in a stranger,” Rictor replied. “Not your style, Doctor.”

Rikki’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll give you whatever you want. But that’s assuming you have a cure, a way to get Eddie out of here. And if you do, then you’re
shit.
Shit to let that boy die. Shit to let all those others—all of
us
— lose our lives from this disease.”

“Careful,” he said. “Keep talking like that and I might just begin to like you.”

She gave him the finger. A grim smile touched Rictor’s mouth, and he looked down at Eddie. Spread his hand over the young man’s chest.

“This will cost,” he said, but so quietly it was almost an afterthought.

“I will pay,” Amiri said, moving close to Rikki’s side.

Rictor shot him a hard look. “No.
You
won’t.”

He and Eddie vanished.