Vigilante Mine (25 page)

Ryan stopped outside the door to Zach's suite. Closing his eyes, he could almost see the audible threads of sound, each wavelength like a sliver-thin battering ram. Above, below, behind, left, right. Front. He tugged, seeking beyond the heavy wood and glass barrier.

Slow, even breathing.

Sleep was a rare enough occurrence he hesitated to open the door.

In the dim bath of light from his entry, both of his brothers looked unearthly pale, Zach under white sheets, hooked to blinking lights and intermittent, damnedable beeping things, and Jay curled on his side on a too-short chairbed. The door closed and darkness swept around him even as the ambient hallway noise fell away. Ryan tried again to drop the extra white noise from his headset, winced, and put the filters up. His power spiraled beyond them, stretching further into the room on its own. What the hell had Romeo done to his ears?

A flash of silver, Jay's supernatural eyesight homing in on him in the dark.

"Worried about you," Jay said.

An understatement. Zach's extreme response to impending danger would have made their youngest brother assume the worst of Ryan's silence. He made another adjustment to his hearing, careful to loosen his grip on his ability only enough to focus on Jay's voice.

"Worrying is my job," Ryan said. "Mind if I cut on the light?"

"'S fine." Jay shifted, and the telltale glimpse of silver began to fade. "To your right. Dimmer switch."

He fumbled until his fingers found the dial and turned it slowly. After a moment, Jay gave him a thumbs-up and he spun it the rest of the way. Turning the lights on full-bore without warning crippled Jay the same way yanking out Ryan's earpiece laid him flat. He swung a chair from the table to Zach's bedside and dropped into it. Ryan was disappointed to see the shade of gray pounded into his brother's skin hadn't brightened, the deep, dusky shade mimicking the snow clouds outside.

Zach didn't stir. No quips, no guarded smile, all evidence of his usual, fiery spirit drained from his features.

What Ryan wouldn't do to protect them. A useless sentiment, but he wished it anyway as he stared down at the hospital bed. Not for the first time, he wished for some way to help Zach manage his talent, like the earpiece usually helped control his hearing. Instead, Zach's ability was killing him slowly, Jay's faith in humanity was wearing a path to oblivion, and Ryan couldn't function without fighting his own head.

They understood; he was grateful he wasn't alone. He hated himself for that gratitude.

"Tell me what happened, Jay."

"Amanda got him thinking. We double-checked and some of the invitees don't have high-end security teams. He sent some of our guys out to cover them, told our personnel to stay at the office if they could. Lilah, too."

"Good thing, with the new curfew. What does this have to do with his seizure?"

"I'd finished the last call on the list and he'd returned to tracking the lines about the murders, looking for more bodies. He made a grab for his pain meds and collapsed. He stopped breathing." The stricken expression on Jay's face ramped up Ryan's guilt. "I tried to keep him from hurting himself, but he took some cuts and bruises anyway."

I should have been there.

Ryan clenched his fists. How could he fix something that threatened to rip his brother up from the inside-out?

"The timing of this, I thought, hoped . . . " Jay rubbed the back of his neck. "There's got to be a trigger for his pain. There has to be. Something he heard, saw
—
"

He shook his head. "None of our abilities are simple."

"This was different," Jay said. "I know it was. He went down right after they announced the other body. Right before your accident."

"Stop." Ryan pointed to his forehead. "Tiny scratch. Nothing worth a seizure."

"Does that mean something bigger is coming?" Jay's voice came out roughened with concern. "What is this zealot capable of?"

"He's a killer," Zach put in from the bed. "That about sums it up, genius."

Ryan's lips twitched. "Hey, Z. I know you hate fancy shindigs, but you could have just told us you didn't want to polish your shoes. Saved yourself the ambulance bill."

No smile, the look in his eyes bleak.

He spotted a can of ginger ale on the rolling tray and shoved it into Zach's hand. "Tell me what's going on in that thick skull of yours."

"I was flipping through channels on the bugs we planted around town. Typical syndicate traffic." The can crinkled. "Drak was flying around my head and then the little guy just dropped."

"That doesn't sound good." Jay hadn't mentioned the little brown bat that followed their brother around like a shadow. "Is he
—
"

"A little shaken." Zach jerked his chin to the left and Ryan spotted the familiar, mousy lump roosting on a far corner of the curtain track that surrounded the bed. "Landed limp in front of me. I've never seen that before. Well. Your girl, this afternoon."

Ryan frowned. Amanda had collapsed because she'd tapped in to his abilities. Not Zach's. The certainty of that thought ripped through him like lightning. It didn't make sense. He hadn't yanked her consciousness somewhere else. Romeo had. Romeo, with whom Ryan had forged a bond of spirit and soul, who could have hurt the woman he . . . cared for. Deeply. He sucked in a ragged breath. Amanda. A woman whose every word, breath, heartbeat resonated through his filters, in perfect tune with his supernatural hearing.

"Go on," he said, and his voice betrayed an emotion he prayed his brothers didn't catch.

"My brain went haywire. Pain . . . I woke up here. You know I get 'something', but that's all I get. No images, no direction. This though?" His voice cracked. "I thought I'd lost you."

Ryan retrieved the ginger ale can before Zach could crush it. "I'm fine, Z."

"Won't be lucky forever," Zach said.

"McLelas's aren't lucky." Ryan tipped a smile at him. "Just stubborn."

Zach cracked a weak smile for the first time since Ryan had entered the room. He stretched his limbs and Ryan eyed the bandages wrapped over his bicep and down his forearm. Hell of a lot of tape for a couple of "cuts and bruises".

Then he spotted the tube jabbed into Zach's other arm. "Tell me that's not what I think it is."

"Oxycodone didn't do shit." Zach thumped his fist down on the mattress. "It's saline."

"Good."

"Easy for you to say."

Ryan blew out a breath and shoved his head into his hands, simultaneously thinking and trying not to think.

The ringing in his ears, Amanda, Romeo
—
all of it took a back seat. Zach was down. It meant Ryan lost his personal backup for the fundraiser, but Jay would be outside, a lookout. Eyes. But not force. Ryan had planned to be the ears of the operation and listen for the zealot during his social mingling, but the wild fluctuations of his hearing shook his confidence. Zach wouldn't be there to counter an attack if he or Jay missed something vital. If Ryan voiced the doubt, his brother would blame himself. So Ryan lifted his head and put on a smile instead.

The burnished hue of Zach's eyes flashed bright against his pale skin, suspicion mingling with agony. "The fundraiser?"

Too perceptive.

"It's too late to reschedule, and you're not going anywhere, so don't even ask. We'll change up the plan. We will be fine." Ryan shoved himself out of his chair and gripped his brother's unwounded bicep. Zach squeezed his in return and Jay followed suit, a gesture of solidarity, a silent vow to protect each other, their secrets, their city. "I'll make sure this serial killer doesn't surprise us."

Zach grimaced. "You need me."

"We will be fine," he repeated. "You're staying right here until
—
"

"You don't get it." Zach tugged them both closer. "I don't want to lie around until one of you gets killed. I'm supposed to be your bodyguard
—
"

"It doesn't seem like you have much choice." Ryan gave his hand a pointed look. "Your arm is shaking."

Zach tried and failed to grip harder, then dropped his arms to the mattress, staring bleakly at the ceiling. "This sucks. I'm fucking worthless."

"Don't you
ever
say that again," Jay yelled.

At the same time, Ryan slammed his hands around the bedrail and leaned into his brother's face. "I don't give a damn if you're bedridden. I will punch you."

Zach met him glare for glare, his eyes snapping hot. "Try it."

"A worthless man wouldn't have the balls to lie there and still think he could take me hand to hand." Liar. With how dizzy he felt, he'd try to dodge the punch from Zach's bad arm and land on his ass. What would happen if he couldn't get his hearing under control?

Ryan forced a grin as Zach growled. "That's better."

"I can't watch your back," Zach said. He yawned, rubbing the back of his hand over his forehead. "Jay can't watch your back without compromising civilian security. How good a shot's your cop girlfr
—
"

His chest gave a jerk and his eyes flew wide.

"You okay?" Ryan leaned in, concerned. Had he had a fresh bout of pain?

Zach flicked a surprised look at him. "You're taking Amanda, right?"

"Of course." He raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

Zach ignored the question. "Let's make sure the new plans won't get you killed."

Hijacking notebooks from the nurse's station, they drew up contingency plans. Much still depended on their abilities, but with a man down keeping the event secure meant heavier reliance on local law enforcement. Ryan hoped he was right about the 16th, that Lieutenant Dale would be up to the task. When Zach had fallen into a restless sleep, Ryan and Jay slipped from the suite.

Ryan's temples pounded, his power pushing its limits for too long. "I need to hunt down some hot water. You want coffee?"

Jay gave a weary nod and sagged against the doorjamb. Ryan empathized, but some luxuries weren't his to indulge. His public face locked around him like a suit of armor. Sharp blue-gray eyes watched him and saw too much, Jay's lips suddenly compressing.

Ryan shrugged. "You in a sugar or straight-up kind of mood?"

His brother stepped forward, his movement and his eyes cautious in a way that made Ryan's eyebrows dip. Jay stopped with a nod at Ryan's weather-beaten suit pants.

"Leave it. The state of my wardrobe will get the rumor mill off Zach's behind. I'll change at the office."

"Your cell phone is ringing."

Icy realization slid down his spine. Ryan pulled the device from his pocket and though it lit with an incoming call from the office and the ringer was set to full volume, he couldn't hear it ring. He didn't dare meet his brother's piercing look, so he answered.

"Evening, boss." Lilah's voice echoed hollowly in his ears as though he were standing in a tunnel. "How's our security chief holding up?"

"He'll make it," Ryan said.

"I hate to drag you away from them, but Miss Leblanc is here." A ruffling sound came over the line, like she was shaking her head. Then silence.

"Brennan's there?" His stomach took a tumble as he eyed the door to Zach's suite. What did she want at this hour?

More silence.

"Lilah?"

" . . . and who knows what they'd do," Lilah finished, her voice creeping back into his ears.

Ryan's jaw tightened. She'd said more, but either the phone had cut out or
—
more likely
—
his filters and his power were broken to the point where a whispered word no longer reached him.

Great.

"The weather might slow me down, but I'll be there soon." Ryan hung up and nodded to Jay. "Keys?"

Jay dug into his pockets. "Zach's never wrong." He released his grip on the car keys, mumbling something under his breath.

Ryan dipped his chin in defeat. The Mustang's keys jangled as he pounded the fingertips of his right hand into his left palm.
Repeat.

"You need to rest." Jay's concern was plain even in rapid-fire sign language. "I'll wear the mask. You get an earpiece that works. And sleep."

"She'd know you're not me. We stick to the plan."

"I don't like the plan."

"Tough."

Jay sighed and flung his hands skyward. "Then be careful. Please, Ry."

"Scare up some cards. I'll thrash you both in poker after my appointment," Ryan said with a confident smile he hoped would set his brother at ease.

If Zach had a premonition bad enough to cause a seizure, one of them was going to be on the other end of some serious hurt. Ryan didn't want to think about what that could mean for Klepto's chat with Murphy.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Lilah had mint
tea ready for him when he emerged from elevator, but he wasn't the only one with a steaming mug. Sporting a short, arrow-straight cut of platinum blond hair and a troubled pitch to her lips, Brennan leaned on his assistant's desk. What could have brought her out after curfew?