Touch of Darkness (36 page)

I was nervous; fidgety. I tried to meditate. But while I’d been getting better with practice, I was just too tightly wound to get into the right state this morning.

Maybe I should call Carlton. But what could he remember that I didn’t already know? Dylan is fiercely paranoid. Always was. And he always had to be in control. It was one of the things that nearly broke us up when we’d been together. But like a fool, I’d given in … let him run the show. That had been a big mistake and I didn’t plan to repeat it. It might have helped if Tom had been home. Logically, I knew how important it was that he help patrol the building to make sure nobody snuck anything in. Just like it was important that Joe and Bryan make the neck and chest guards for the police officers Brooks was bringing to the party. But that didn’t make me miss him any less. Was that a weakness? Maybe, but I didn’t think so. Over the past two years I’d learned that our strengths complemented each other. There are things I can do that Tom can’t; and others that he does better than I do. As a team we can do more, better, than either of us could individually.

I heard a car pull into the driveway and heavy footsteps coming up onto the front porch. I glanced at the clock again. If it was Dusty she was running early. But it didn’t sound like her. I sent a thought outward, just as the doorbell rang.

It was Elaine. I could tell that much. Unfortunately, I couldn’t sense her thoughts. Then again, I never really could. She shielded better than anyone I’d ever known, including Henri.

Well, hell. Wasn’t this just what I didn’t need. I set the knives on the kitchen counter and went to open the front door.

“Good morning, Kate.”

“Elaine.” I glanced toward the car, looking for her driver. I didn’t see anyone, but the trunk lid was open, so I couldn’t get a good look inside the vehicle. Apparently the driver was going to stay outside. That meant Elaine and I got to talk alone. Oh goody.

I shifted my gaze to the woman on the front porch. She looked tired, standing in front of me wearing the same dark jeans and simple white blouse she’d had on when she left here with us yesterday morning, and while she’d obviously freshened her makeup and combed her hair, there were dark circles under her eyes. It didn’t look as if she’d been crying. Then again, maybe she had, but her werewolf healing had gotten rid of the evidence—the kind of chapped nose and lips I get.

“I came by to get my things.” She gave me a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. It was a politician’s smile meant more for the sake of politeness than anything else. “Since the police have Janine in custody, there’s really no point in my staying here. I think we’ll all be more comfortable if I check into a hotel near the convention center.”

Since I couldn’t honestly deny that, I didn’t try. Instead, I held open the door for her to come in.

“Janine’s failure to appear for the federal charges in Las Vegas will make things go badly for her. That she attacked the police officer who tried to take her into custody here will make it worse.”

“I’m sorry.” The words were automatic, but I meant them. Unfortunately, she didn’t believe me. She glared at me and I felt the power of her magic pressing against me like a living thing. “Don’t lie to me, Ms. Reilly.”

“Fine. I’m not sorry she’s in custody. I think she’s unstable, dangerous, and needs serious help. I am sorry that it came to this.” It was the absolute truth. Janine was a wolf, but that wasn’t why I disliked her. It was her human side that had issues. A good psychiatrist might have been able to help her before things got this far out of hand. As it was, she was probably going to prison. Most likely, she’d be there for years. For a wolf, being caged like that would be a form of torture, a type of hell. I knew it was necessary, but that didn’t make me happy about it. Elaine gave me a long, hostile look from half-lidded eyes glowing golden with power. “You can’t actually mean that.”

I threw up my hands and turned my back on her. It was pointless trying to talk to her. There are people who hold their belief in their own rightness so tight to their chests that there is no room for anything else, no room for new ideas, other opinions, nothing. Elaine was one of those people. I was too strung out this morning to deal with her diplomatically. More, I didn’t want to.

“Whatever. I’ll let you pack. I need to start getting ready.” I walked down the hall to my bedroom and began viciously ripping the price tags off of my new clothes. After tossing the tags into the waste bin, I started rummaging in my drawers for a pair of thick socks and some clean underwear that would allow for comfortable movement. Sexy is well and good when I’m trying to impress Tom, but today I needed something I’d be able to fight in. I was interrupted by Elaine’s voice, sounding tense and strained, calling me from down the hall. “I’m finished packing, but I could use some help carrying my bags to the car. If you don’t mind.” That last just dripped sarcasm. Not if it will get her out the door quicker, I thought. What I said was, “Sure. No problem.”

I tossed my sweat socks onto the bed and shoved the dresser drawer closed before walking out into the living room. She had three bags. Two large suitcases and a cosmetic bag. All of them high end, high quality. All together I couldn’t imagine they weighed enough to cause her trouble. She could have carried them out by herself if she wanted. But she was being petty. She was the bigwig. I was the peon. I was supposed to carry her bags, kiss her heinie, and act happy to do both.

I am so not good at politics. But I am fond of my sister-in-law, and I love Tom, and this bitch could make either or both of their lives hellish if she really put her mind to it. So I forced my face into a semblance of a smile by reminding myself that she was, at least, leaving and grabbed the cosmetic bag and larger suitcase. Kicking open the screen door, I walked down the steps to where a mid-sized sedan had been backed into the driveway. The trunk was standing wide open. I set the cosmetic bag in first, leaving both hands free to wrangle with the big suitcase. I was bent over double when I heard a high-pitched buzz, felt a blur of movement behind me. I tried to turn, but it was too late.

I felt the prongs jab into me through the thin fabric of the robe, and at the same instant a shock of electricity jolted through my body. Pain, intense enough to steal my breath and make me sweat. She kept the prongs pushed against me, the charge surging into me for seconds that seemed to last an eternity. My whole body spasmed, my legs giving out beneath me. I couldn’t seem to breathe, couldn’t think. She caught me easily and tossed me bodily into the trunk of the car and slammed the lid closed.

I’m claustrophobic. In those first few moments, had I been able to think, I’d have been terrified. Instead, I lay on the thinly carpeted surface, my muscles still quivering and spasming, unable to think clearly or do much of anything. Time passed; how much time I don’t know. I vaguely felt the car moving beneath me, heard the sounds of traffic. Not much later, we pulled to a stop.

The trunk opened. I could see Elaine standing outlined against a background of tall grass. In the distance there was a playground set and the sound of geese.

I should move. I knew that. But neither my mind nor my body was capable of it. I could only watch, distant and detached, as she reached into the trunk and removed her makeup case. Setting it onto the ground, she hit the latches and flipped open the lid. I heard it, but I couldn’t see. Couldn’t stir so much as a muscle. When she came back in view she was wearing latex medical gloves and had a syringe in her hand. She grabbed the arm without the cast and turned it sharply to expose the bend of my elbow, where the veins are near the surface and easy to find. Pinning my unresisting flesh between her arm and body, she used her free hand to jab the needle home and hit the plunger. The world went dark.

KATIE! KATIE! WHERE are you? A frantic female voice cut through the fog muddying my mind, prodding me. Dusty. It was Dusty. I knew it, but vaguely. Everything was muddled. I couldn’t seem to think. What’s happened to you?

I knew I should be frantic, should try to shake off the effects of the drag, but it was just too hard. I let myself drift downward, back toward oblivion.

TOM! THEY’VE DONE IT TO KATIE TOO. YOU HAVE TO HELP ME.

I felt a second, familiar presence join the woman, felt his absolute terror when he realized what condition I was in. Katie, baby, you have to fight this. You have to let us help you. He used his thoughts as a hook, trying to pull my mind free of the drug and shock-induced lethargy. Every time I started to slip away I felt him dig in further, shoving more of his consciousness into me, forcing me to stay.

Dusty, can you see where she is, what happened to her? I heard Tom’s voice as clearly as if he were here with me, we were that connected.

I felt Dusty’s consciousness brash against mine lightly. A moment later, another touch. This time deeper. It was …

odd … as though my mind was a door that she could walk through, my memories and consciousness rooms for her to visit. I’d done it before, but from the other end. Experiencing it as the person being probed was both weirdly intimate and profoundly disturbing. Each memory she touched, each thought she brushed against brought me closer to consciousness, closer to being myself.

She was healing me.

When I was coherent enough to realize that, and to realize the incredible danger she’d put herself in, I started to break the connection.

No! Don’t! I’m okay. WE’RE okay. Dusty’s voice was clear in my mind. How?

I’m linked to the pack, and some of the other Accas, the ones who believed. They’re helping me to do this without getting hurt. Now, what happened? Where are you?

I don’t know. I didn’t tell her what happened, I showed her, and through her Tom, and all of the wolves linked to her. I showed them everything, including that small glimpse of tall grass, a playground set, and the distant sound of geese.

The Accas were horrified, furious at Elaine’s betrayal. But it was Tom who gave me hope. Because now that I was conscious, I was aware of being confined in a small dark space. My pulse began racing, thundering loudly in my ears. I closed my eyes, trying to keep my breathing even, keep the panic at bay.

I know where you are, Katie. Hang on, baby. We’re calling the cops now and I’m on my way. Inhale, count to ten, exhale. I made myself concentrate on every breath. If I didn’t I would hyperventilate. I hated the fact that my fear had that much power over me. It wasn’t sane, it wasn’t logical. But that’s the definition of a phobia in a nutshell. Unfortunately, breathing deeply gave me a good, long whiff of what I smelled like. It wasn’t pretty. Panic-laced sweat and urine. I wasn’t sure when I’d wet myself. Maybe the electric charge had done it. Or perhaps I’d been close to death when Dusty “found” me. The body usually lets go of everything in that last moment—

which is why so many people die on the toilet. As an old friend once observed, there’s a reason “the king” died on “the throne.”

Stupid, thinking of that. But thinking of anything was better than letting the fear have its way. I could hear sirens in the distance, growing louder as they came near.

Kate, are you still there? There was a hint of fear in Dusty’s mental voice. Are you all right? The police are on the way with an ambulance.

I’m okay. Stop by the house and get my clothes. I’ll need to change. I didn’t elaborate. It was too embarrassing. Either she knew from my thoughts, or just guessed, because she agreed. I’ll try. Tom’s pretty frantic. After what happened with Mary he wants to see for himself that you’re all right.

My heart sank. I swallowed hard, afraid to ask, but unable not to. What happened to Mary? The sirens were almost here. I could distinctly hear both the ambulance and police sirens, closing in fast. I rolled over as much as I could, fighting to position myself so that I could kick against the trunk. I wanted them to hear me, wanted them to get me out. I might not be able to get enough leverage to do any damage to the trunk, but I could make noise, and as soon as I heard the crunch of vehicles stopping on gravel I did just that. Kicking, screaming, and pounding against the closed trunk lid with my fists.

She’d been everywhere around here, working her ass off. Then she just vanished. Everybody figured she was running an errand, maybe went to the restroom. But she was gone too long. So I looked for her the way you always talk about doing. She’d been given an overdose of paralytic and shoved into a closet. She was almost dead. Her heart kept stopping. I tried to do what I did with you, but—

I shuddered. Oh God, Mary. She wasn’t dead. I’d be able to feel it if she was. But it was bad. I knew that without even trying to reach out to her, or to Joe.

They took her to DG. She’s not dead…but it doesn’t look good. When we found her like that, Tom tried to call you on the phone. When you didn’t answer, he panicked and had me look for you too.

I heard car doors slam, and male voices. “Shit, would you look at all those crows.”

At the sound of them talking I pounded and kicked with renewed vigor, screaming for help at the top of my lungs. I heard them pause, and swear. Seconds later I heard running footsteps approach the trunk of the car.

“Hang on, lady. We’ll get you out.”

I stopped kicking, stopped pounding. They were here. They knew I was here. They’d get me out. It was going to be okay.

“What’s your name?”

“Kate Reilly.”

The cops are here. Tell Tom I’m all right, and I love him. And get me some clean clothes. Right.

“Ms. Reilly, are you hurt?”

“I’m all right. She drugged me, but I’m okay now. Just get me out of this damned trunk!” My voice cracked as I shouted that last bit and I forced myself to take more deep breaths. Not long now. Easy. Easy. It was going to be all right. Oh, God. Mary. Breathe. Inhale, count to five, exhale.

I heard the scrape of metal against metal, saw the rubber of the trunk lip shoved back as the edge of a crowbar was shoved beneath the trunk lid near the lock. With a grunt, and the screaming protest of metal, the lock gave. The trunk popped open and I was blinded by beautiful, glorious sunlight.