Choices (7 page)

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Authors: Cate Dean

BOOK: Choices
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“Just do as I say.”

“I won’t leave without you.”

“Damn it, Maura.” He glanced down at her, briefly, his eyes as vivid and furious as the day they met. The enraged god was back. “You have to―”

A familiar, high-pitched whine cut off his protest. He let go of the hook, twisting to avoid the lase blast. It snapped through the air like a fire whip and sliced into his left shoulder.

“John!”

Cowering bodies cushioned his fall, rolled him, unconscious, against the railing. Maura grabbed for him. Still clenched in his hand, the pistol snagged itself in the crush of limbs, dragging him out of reach.

“No―John―”

She crawled forward until she came up beside him, dug her fingers into the front of his uniform and hauled. His hand jerked free, minus the pistol. Momentum threw him off the sidewalk and into the well. Right on top of her.

The shock of impact ignited every injury. In the excruciating minute it took to recover her breath, she heard their pursuit, preceded by screams of pain, of fear.

“John.” She spoke into his ear, prayed he could hear her above the chaos. “Wake up―oh God, please wake up.”

“Maura.”

His voice barely crossed the space between them. Turning her head, she met his eyes. “Can you move?”

He answered by pushing himself up, his right arm trembling as he shifted his weight off her and sat, hunched over his bleeding shoulder. “Go.”

“Not without you.” He closed his eyes. “John, please.”

After an endless second he nodded, inched his left arm up.

Her heart constricted. “Sweet heaven―”

“Not the time for—gentleness.”

Swallowing, she knelt under his arm, eased it across her shoulders. He used the rail to lever himself up. Maura supported him, cringed at every breathless gasp. They moved forward, John clutching the metal bar like a lifeline.

A hindrance before, the crowd became their ally—a shifting, panicked mass that spilled into the well behind them, a barrier against the AO cops literally crawling after them.

John slipped when they reached the marble floor leading to the terminal. Only his grip on the rail saved them from a fall Maura knew would have destroyed any possibility of escape. Just inside the entrance he released her, leaning against a flared pillar.

“No, John.”

“You have―a better chance, without me.”

She studied the pain-taut face.

“This has been your goal since you learned about your friends, hasn’t it? You planned to get us this far, then sacrifice yourself for me. Redeem yourself.” The coldness, the bitter anger now made sense. He had been trying to distance himself. Give her no reason to stay with him. “Sorry, John. It’s not going to happen.”

“Maura―”

“I owe you my life. I owe them the same.” He flinched, stared past her. “Did you think I would forget? That I would repay you, repay them, by running away, leaving you here to die?” She moved to him, twisted her fingers into the front of his uniform. “It didn’t work. I still care.”

“Damn it.” Swallowing, he laid his hand over hers, finally looked at her. “Let go of me, and get over here.”

Relief left her lightheaded as she obeyed. She was afraid she was going to lose that battle. John hooked his right arm over her shoulders, stepped past the pillar and into the main terminal.

Orderly, neverending lines shuffled through the soaring, cathedral-quiet space. Maura locked her arm around his waist as John moved between the lines and picked up speed. His harsh, uneven breathing scraped across her heart, his weight grinding deeper into her bruised shoulder with each step.

Ignore it―we’re almost there―

“Clear the terminal!” Darwin’s voice shrieked through the PA, exploding the silence. “Daniel is here! Clear the way for AO!”

The robotic humanity surrounding them erupted into a panicked mob.

John pulled Maura to the nearest pillar, used it to shelter them from the chaos. She looked up at him; blood stood out like carnival paint on his shock pale face.

“Take the corridor to the left. I will hold our pursuit.”

“I’m not―”

“Follow the corridor until you reach the lavatories. I marked your door—yours has been removed, but mine will remain untouched. Look for a black chevron in the upper right corner. No, Maura.” Shaking fingers brushed her lips when she started to protest. His touch stilled her. “It has to be this way.”

He cradled her cheek, studied her face with those vivid eyes.

Blind and in a crowded room she would know the caress of that gaze.

“John, please―”

He kissed her, gentle, heartbreaking. It tasted of goodbye.

“Go.”

Dropping his hand he stepped away, swept out of reach by the human turmoil.

“John—” She started to go after him—and got caught in the surging crowd. Someone shoved her and she lost her balance, her scream drowned by the panic around her.

Strong hands caught her, lifted her, and led her to the relative safety of the wall. When she turned her breath stuck in her throat. It was the woman she had seen outside the terminal her first day here.

“Maura―” Soft brown eyes scrutinized every inch of her face. “Oh, sweetheart, I’ve been frantic.”

“Who are you? How do you know—”

“I am Celeste.” She pushed hair off Maura’s forehead, fingers shaking. “Anthony was my son.”

Oh, God—
One hand covered her mouth, tears blurring her vision. “I am so sorry—”

“You have no reason—I know what was done, and why. Anthony would shout my ears bloody if I didn’t help you.” A gentle smile crossed the older woman’s face. Anthony’s smile.

“How did you know I was here?”

“We have been building a network for years. They found you and John, at a great cost.”

Maura swallowed, well aware of the price those courageous people paid. “Can you help John?”

Celeste closed her eyes briefly, but not before Maura saw the flare of anguish. “I am here to get you home―

“I’m not leaving until I know he’s safe.”

Celeste cradled her face, and Maura braced herself for bad news.

“What you can do for John, what he wants, is to know that you are out of this. I understand how difficult it is for you, but this is not your fight. And now,” she shifted, wrapped one arm around Maura’s waist, moving slowly along the wall. Maura was surprised to see that only a few people remained in the terminal, scurrying to the exit. “It is time to get you home.”

“Not until I know John—”

“There are others here, Maura. People who care about him, and will see that he is safe. Now I’m going to do the same for you―”

Her voice choked off when they rounded the corner.

Darwin stood in the empty corridor.

“Go!” Maura pulled out of Celeste’s grip and ran straight at Darwin, giving her time to escape. He yanked her off her feet, muffled her shout with one hand and dragged her down the corridor.

More angry than scared, she lashed out, tired of watching him hurt without retaliation. Her foot whacked his shin. He cursed, loud and furious. She added to injury and bit his hand.

With an echoing roar he threw her against the wall. She slammed right side first into cold steel, slid down the length of the wall. Agony clawed her bruised shoulder.

“You chose the wrong side, little girl.” He closed his hand over that shoulder—and it took all the control she had left not to scream at the contact. “Help me trap Wolf, I’ll let you go.”

He would sooner let John walk free. He knew she was a writer.

“I will—never help you.”

She braced herself for rage. He gave her resignation.

“He’s got to you.” One hand brushed through his hair, pulling the short strands into water-tipped spikes. “Don’t you see? He’ll poison everyone who’ll listen, turn them away from order, away from the law—”

“Your law is wrong.”

He grabbed her chin, ice-grey eyes staring into hers. They revealed an anguish she had not seen before, knowledge of what he did, every day, to uphold his law.

“It saved my world.” Cold anger swallowed the anguish. Darwin caught her arms and pulled her up. She fought back the nausea that burned her throat, her head throbbing from the movement. He let her go, left her to stand on her own. Only desperation and the wall at her back kept her upright. “You’re gonna help me stop—”

A flying blur slammed into him. Maura clutched the wall as both bodies hit the marble floor. Tangled and dark with sweat, blonde hair curtained John’s face as he pinned Darwin under him.

Darwin freed one arm, drove his fist into John’s bloody shoulder. With a choked gasp, John recoiled, losing his grip. It gave Darwin the moment he needed—his gun cleared the holster, the barrel smacking against John’s left cheek. John arched backward, collapsed on the floor and lay still. Blood puddled under his left shoulder, ran from the gash in his cheek.

Darwin leaned over him, pressed the pistol into his chest. A horrifying, familiar whine split the air.

Maura pushed off the wall, shouting as she fell.

“JOHN!”

He jerked his left arm up and slammed it against Darwin’s wrist. The pistol fired over his head, a deadly arc of gold that blasted the far wall instead of its intended target. They both grappled for the pistol, John hampered by his injured shoulder.

Maura crawled forward, terrified she wouldn’t reach him in time. John lost his grip and Darwin punched him, knocking him backward. Panic nearly swamped her when he pinned John to the floor.

“You have to die, Wolf.” He pulled a knife from his belt. “Need to set an example, stop you before you ruin everything we made.”

Maura kept moving, closing the distance between them. Her body punished her for every inch.

Darwin raised his hand, aimed the blade at John’s chest.

She shoved herself upright, yanked her other shoe out of her pocket—and with a hoarse cry smacked Darwin across the back of the head as he thrust the knife down.

Darwin slumped forward. John caught the arcing blade with his left hand. Inches from his chest. Dropping her shoe, Maura braced her shoulder against the unconscious man, and pushed until he rolled sideways.

“John—”

Bloody fingers spread across the marble floor as he levered himself up. She wrapped her left arm around his waist. He shook so hard against her she could feel it in her bones.

Between them they found the strength to sit, John’s impaled hand trembling where it rested on his thigh. He looked at her, then reached out with his good hand, gently brushing her temple. She gasped at the contact.

“You are bleeding again.” He caught her hand when she tried to investigate, pressed his lips to the jumping pulse at her wrist. “Thank you, Maura.”

Heat flushed her cheeks.

Letting her go, he pried open his fingers, grabbed the knife hilt and jerked the blade free. Fresh blood pooled in his palm. “I want you to go now.”

“John—”

“I will be fine.”

“Fine—you look like death four days cold. I’m not going to leave you here—”

“You will go. Now.”

“I won’t―”

“No arguments.”

“I won’t leave without you.”

John stood, pulled her up with him and toward the door.

“Yes, you will.” He tightened his grip on her arm when she resisted. “I’ll not let the pain of my world touch you again. It does not belong to you, and you do not belong here.”

Anguish broke across his voice, halted her struggle. She looked up, met the vivid blue eyes.

“John―”

He hauled her to the door. It opened at the touch of his hand, revealed three white, empty, undamaged walls. The mangled chair was gone, as if it had never been there. No gold light reached for her, no grasping, sucking air. Nothing but a dead end. She wasn’t going home.

A charge-up whine echoed behind them. Before they could react a stream of fire burst against the pristine steel just above John’s shoulder. With a desperate shout he threw her at the narrow doorway just as a second blast streaked past her left ear, close enough to scorch her cheek. She caught herself on the back wall, impact jarring all the way to her feet. Furious, sharp with pain, Darwin’s gravel voice drove through her.

“Move an inch, Wolf, and the next one cuts her in half.”

Maura turned in time to see Darwin step forward, shove his pistol against John’s left knee and fire.

“John!”

Stumbling out of the cubicle, she dropped down beside him. Blood pumped out of his leg. She applied pressure, felt him jerk under her hands. A long, pale scarf appeared in front of her.

“Tie it up. I don’t want him dying. Not yet.”

“You bastard.” The strength of her anger surprised her, steadied her hands as she wrapped John’s knee. Finished, she kept pressure on the wound, glanced up at Darwin. “I’m the one who knocked you out.”

The ice-grey eyes narrowed, but not before she saw the flare of rage, shame almost hidden behind it.

“Seems I cut you short, little girl. Never thought you had the nerve.” He moved toward her. Maura saw him flinch, saw the blood creep down his neck. “His life is mine now.”

One hand snatched out, caught her wrist and dragged her to her feet.

She wrenched at the grip, ignored her screaming body. Without John she had no ally against this man who handed out death like candy―without John she had nothing―

Gold light exploded out of the cubicle, spun them around. Dr. Lang hadn’t screwed up after all.

Darwin shoved her toward the opposite wall, followed after her, the narrow, heated barrel of his pistol digging into her ribs.

“No escaping this time.” He leaned in, his breath warm on her cheek. “Wolf’ll die, while you watch. Then I get to decide what to do with you.”

She closed her eyes, fought the exhaustion, the grinding pain, with more anger. Darwin had threatened her one time too many. She wasn’t going to stand around while he destroyed the only man able to touch a heart that had refused every attempt, who cared enough to risk his life, his future, for a stranger―not John―not this time―

With strength dredged out of only God knew where she punched him in the stomach with her left fist, hard, methodical, in the moment. Her only thought, her only intent, was survival―just like she’d been taught in another life, another place. Darwin crumpled at her feet.

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