Touching Darkness (25 page)

S
ayre's phone rang. He was lounging on the couch watching
Judge Judy.
He waited for the fourth ring before answering. “'Lo, Pete's Pizza, where our sausages are the longest and spiciest.”

Silence for a moment. “Sayre?”

“Yes, sir.” Man had no sense of humor.

“Keep working on finding Braden. We were close, but he was already gone.”

“That early? Man, the guy must'a been up at the crack of dawn.”

Darkwell had tasked him with finding Braden, who, as it turned out, was the son of a bitch who'd broken up his little date with Olivia. He'd gotten into Braden's dreams and had the guy walk outside and identify the motel. He might have had the guy do himself in if Darkwell hadn't told him to hold off for now. Darkwell gave him free rein on these Rogue people, but most of them were in a protected place. Lucas, though, he could get into because of their twin connection, or that was Sayre's best guess. Unfortunately, his girlfriend woke him up before he could finish his task. Lucas was going to have to take her out first, then blow away the rest of them.

“I want you to find him again tonight. He'll be with a woman. Don't hurt her.”

Don't hurt the woman. Hm, intriguing.
“And Braden?”

“I'll take care of him myself.”

He hung up without so much as a bye or thank-you or howdy do. Fine manners for a guy who lived in a big house.

Now if Sayre only knew what was really going on. He figured Olivia had snitched on him because the guard checked to make sure he was in residence. Darkwell must think it was Lucas who attacked her. Sayre couldn't wait to see if the woman with Braden was Olivia.

 

Amy's heart pounded so hard she thought it might burst out of her chest. The man, whose iron-hard arms wrapped around her, actually lifted her off the ground. Her feet kicked at his shins but didn't budge her captor.

He leaned close to her ear. “Who are you and what do you want?”

“My name is Amy Shane. I'm an offspring of the people in an experiment Richard Wallace headed up twenty-five years ago, and I have some questions for him.”

The man said, “Did you hear that?…All right, will find out and advise.”

Another man stepped out from the cover of woods, a rifle aimed in their direction. He was tall and wiry, with a prominent Adam's apple. Maybe it was his longish, wavy brown hair, but he reminded her of a British rock and roller. And, most shockingly, he had the Offspring glow. It was jagged, matching his dark, fierce expression as he approached.

“You armed?”

“No.” Coming in armed didn't seem like a good idea. Not that it would have done her a lot of good, as it turned out.

The man holding her, who felt as big as Eric, set her down. “No fast moves. Lachlan's been practicing his shot since he was five.”

He patted her down while Lachlan held the rifle on her. He wore a headpiece like the cell phones that reminded her of
Star Trek
. He said, “She's not armed.”

“But are you alone?” said the man behind her. He stepped around and took a good look at her.

“Yes.”

Her captor
was
as big as Eric and just as muscular. He was probably six-two, with a boyish face and a Cupid's bow mouth. He also had an Offspring glow.

“We're bringing her in,” he said.

He clamped his hand on her arm and led her down the road.

She tugged to free herself. “There's no need to manhandle me.”

His mouth quirked, but he didn't release her.

They came around a corner and upon an earthen-colored wall with an ornate gate in the center. Beyond were a lush garden, then the house. Copper scrollwork, now turned verde, adorned the top of the wall. The gate opened as they approached, and she saw a camera pointing at them.

This garden was different than anything else she'd seen. Mixed among the flowers were oddly shaped and colored specimens that were neatly labeled with scientific names. A network of copper webbing covered the courtyard like a dome, and the roof as well. They followed a curving path to a stained-glass door, and the walls on either side were glass.

A man was waiting for them: Richard Wallace with…an Offspring glow? But he couldn't be an Offspring. She stared at his calm halo of colors.

Richard's light green eyes were sharp with both interest and a hint of wariness. His hair was short and bright white. He tucked his earpiece into his lab coat pocket. “Amy Shane, daughter of Henry Shane?”

Hearing her dad's name from this man's lips shot anger
through her. “Well, at least you remember your victims' names.”

His white eyebrows rose, and he almost looked amused. “You've come to accuse me?” He had a languorous, almost theatrical way of speaking. “Well, I suppose I was, in part, to blame. But I was a victim as much as anyone else. Magnus, you can release her.”

Yeah, like she was going to believe
he
was a victim. The guy holding on to her finally released her. She crossed her arms in front of her. “I've come to find out what you put in our parents that made them crazy. Because it's in us, too.”

He smiled. “Funny you should come here. I was about to go looking for you. All of you.”

“Why?”

“Because I've been working on the antidote.”

Could it be that easy? No, nothing was that easy.

He stepped aside, gesturing for her to go in. She did, taking in the narrow hallway that stretched left and right, with an exterior wall comprised mostly of glass that looked out into yet another courtyard. A black pond was the centerpiece, with junglelike growth around it.

He led her to the right, where a small sitting area was intimately lit by small, silver lights that dangled from long cords. He pressed his hands together and bowed toward her, then gestured for her to take a seat. “May I get you something? I have lychee tea shipped in from China. Or perhaps a soda?”

“Nothing for me.” She sank down onto the modular chair. Tea from a botanist with a predilection for fungi…no frickin' thank you. “You were—”

“Tut-tut.” He lifted a finger to quiet her. “Must never talk while making tea. The vibrations permeate the tea and ruin the taste.”

He walked into a gourmet kitchen just beyond and went through a meticulous process of getting out an exotic teapot and preparing tea. She turned to the two men, who were
still standing and watching her. There was a slight resemblance between them, at least in eye and hair color and the sensuous shapes of their mouths. Both men had brown hair, though Magnus's was rich with curls and Lachlan's was merely wavy. Neither looked a thing like the man in the kitchen.

Richard returned, setting the tray down on the coffee table. “I brought you a cup in case the aroma changes your mind.” He sat down and gingerly dropped two pink sugar cubes into his tiny teacup. “How did you find me?”

Amy stuffed her annoyance that he had stopped her from asking questions but then had launched into his own. Shades of those first few encounters with Petra and Eric. That didn't mean she had to answer him, though. “Darkwell is looking for you, too.”

He stopped stirring. “You're here on his behalf?”

Amy had to stifle a horrified laugh. “God, no. You were in the program, too, weren't you? You took the Booster.”

“The Booster.” He shook his head. “Terrible name for it. No romance, no resonance. Darkwell's name. Yes, I took it. How did you know?” He especially drew out his
yes
es.

“Because I can see your glow, your aura.” She turned to the two men. “Your sons?”

He smiled with pride. “Lachlan and Magnus.”

That was a good sign, that he was introducing them, wasn't it? “You passed it on to them.”

“Passed…
it
?”

“The Booster.”

His expression darkened for a second. “Yes. Tell me about this glow you see.”

“They usually indicate moods, but Offspring—that's what the children of the people in BLUE EYES are called—have a mixed glow, like static on a television.”

He took a sip of tea and set down the cup. “I see. Well, I
don't
see the glow, but I see what you mean. Your father had the same ability. And many more.”

Her throat tightened at the mention of him. “Like what? I know he could remote-view.”

“The best I've ever seen. He could read documents, hear everything.” He raised a brow at her. “Can you do that?”

“No. Could he channel the dead?”

“Yes.” He'd drawn out the word again. He took another sip, his pinky extended. “And you?”

She nodded.

He set his cup down and sat back in his chair. “How did you find me?” His expression remained merely curious, but she saw a spark of fear in his eyes.

“One of us can locate.”

His face got even paler than it already was. “The copper didn't keep him out.”

“Copper?”

“Copper has protective qualities, especially when it's charged in energy vortexes. It keeps out psychic eyes. It has been protecting us for many years. Until now. I felt one of you here.” He looked at his sons. “I told you someday our protection might not be enough.”

Lachlan hoisted his gun in an automatic gesture. “We'll be ready.”

Richard's face was like a mask, stiff and calm. “We don't know what they have.”

“We do.” Amy planted her hands on her knees. “Darkwell has two Offspring working for him, trying to hunt us down. But I'm not telling you any more until I have what I came here for. We inherited our parents' boosted psychic ability. And some of us have inherited the mental instability, too. My boyfriend is…he's breaking down. Darkwell captured him and put more of that stuff into him. I'm afraid Lucas is going to die if I don't get him help.”
Dammit.
Her voice had broken. “You said something about an antidote.”

“He injected Lucas with more of the Booster? But…how? It was destroyed. I made sure of that.” He stood. “Come with me, daughter of Henry Shane.”

She swallowed hard, wishing now she'd taken some of that liquid. She accompanied him out a glass door that went into the courtyard behind the house. His sons followed.

“I knew Darkwell two years, four months, and ten days before BLUE EYES started. He was fascinated by psychic abilities. He wanted to use them to help our country, but his vision grew out of hand. I admit to being narrowly focused, but he far surpassed me.”

The house was a large square that encircled the back courtyard, which was covered like a greenhouse. It was warm and humid, steaming the Plexiglas panels that made the roof. Huge koi swam in the dark pond, ducking from sight as the four of them came near. Tiny birds flitted from branch to branch, chirping in alarm.

“I heard a scream,” she said.

“Peacocks. Years ago this was an animal sanctuary. It's mating season.”

More of those odd-shaped growths filled this area. He paused, tilting his head and gazing at one particular grouping. Amy wanted to push him for more answers, but she intuitively sensed pushing would get her nowhere.

So she would engage him, gain his trust, whatever it took, because she wasn't leaving until she got the antidote. And answers. “I understand you're a biologist and mycologist. And that you're very talented.”

His smile deepened momentarily and then faded. “Yes, I was.”

“Was?”

His focus, though, was on some small, pink balls growing on a fern. “Did you ever see such beauty?” He waved his hand over the centerpiece island. “Such variety? These are myxomycetes. Slime molds, my favorite type of fungus. I have always been fascinated by the odd, especially when it comes to nature. Especially that of the psychic nature.” He bent down and bounced his finger gently on top of some spongy red growths that reminded her of something from
a Dr. Seuss book. “But these I could see, touch. Others could see and touch them, too, though most people were repulsed.”

He picked up a rotted branch and held it up to her. “This one is named after me.” The wood was covered by something that looked like a lacy red sea fern. “People walk past these every day and don't even notice them. But these are life-forms, as lovely as any flower. Just because we classify them as fungus does not make them less valuable.”

His voice became impassioned on those last words, and his gaze was on the specimen in his hand. He gently set it down, giving it a look of fatherly love.

What did this have to do with—? “Was the Booster one of these?”

He gave her an odd smile. “You think I'm some mad scientist who sampled one of my specimens?” He laughed, shaking his head. “I did, but by accident.”

“How could that have happened?”

“It moved onto my plate.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Moved?” She looked at the specimens with trepidation now. “These things can
move
?”

“Some can. Afterward, my abilities increased tenfold. Darkwell wanted to know what had made the difference. He wanted a sample, and to my everlasting regret, I brought one in. I suffered no side effects, for a while, anyway. It took time for them to manifest. Darkwell thought it was safe, and I…I'm afraid I didn't object enough. Before I knew it, he was giving the subjects the so-called Booster, though they didn't know exactly what it was. We were getting amazing results.”

She followed him down the path, wondering if one of these specimens had been in the Booster. Some were amazing and so odd she would have definitely stopped to check them out. They were in such an array of colors and shapes, some stalks, others round balls or clusters, white and blue and yellow and red, and for a moment she could understand his being smitten by them.

He walked to a door in the far right corner of the house. She followed him into what appeared to be a lab, with glass cages filled with mice, refrigerators with containers of substances, and beautifully framed pictures of more fungi. These looked more like gelatinous blobs in fluorescent blue, purple, and bright yellow.