The Keys of Solomon (22 page)

He glanced down at his feet and saw the corner of the book sticking out from beneath the sofa. Then he recalled the tiny circle drawn around the city of Casa Grande.

Does this have anything to do with a Veil?
said Sam.
I mean, if it does, I really don't want anything to do with it. Please, Joriel. Please …

Joriel's answer was slow in coming. When she finally spoke, her tone was calm yet distant, as if she was still lost in the memory of Michael Collier's final seconds on this earth.

No, this doesn't involve a Veil, Sam. It involves something of much greater importance.

“More important than a friggin' Veil? You're kidding, right?” Sam didn't realize he had spoken aloud until both Falco and Enrique turned to stare at him.

Joriel continued and Sam thought she now sounded hurried and farther away.
When it's time for you to go, take these men with you. They'll help you reach Katherine and your mother. They'll not harm you, Sam, you have my word. Events are moving very quickly now, and you're wasting time. Show them the map. Please.

The room spun as it often did whenever Joriel withdrew abruptly from his mind. As the vertigo passed, he heard Falco calling his name. The man's voice was stern and filled with genuine concern. Enrique said nothing as he looked on, though Sam was certain he, too, was concerned, though not for the same reasons as Falco.

The bastard is just waiting for me to turn into the bogeyman.

“I'm fine. Just low blood sugar or something.”

Enrique stood up and glanced at his watch. “Is there anything else you'd like to say? Something besides ‘You murdering bastards'?”

Sam bent over and retrieved the atlas from beneath the sofa. “While you're deciding whether or not to have me shot or thrown off a bridge, you may want to look at this.” Sam reached across the coffee table and passed the book to Enrique.

Enrique examined the front and back covers, then thumbed through the pages. “I assume there's something special about this atlas?”

Sam nodded. “Very special. The maps in that book led me halfway across the country, all the way to Abbotsville.”

Enrique held up the book, showing the cover to Falco. “Have you seen this?”

Falco shook his head. “Not until now. I didn't know it was in the suite.”

“Okay, Sam,” said Enrique. “It's a road atlas. Lots of people use maps when they travel across the country. What's so special about this one?”

“Turn to the map of Tennessee and tell me what you see,” said Sam.

Enrique did as Sam instructed and studied the map for several seconds. “I see some handwriting in red marker. The writing is smudged as if it's been wet. Can't make it out. I also see where you traced your route from Knoxville with a highlighter and … and the circle you drew around the town of Abbotsville.”

Sam slowly shook his head from side to side. “I didn't trace the route, or draw the circle. The marks and notations were already there when I found the book inside my bedroom, a little more than two years ago. At first I didn't understand, so I laid it aside and tried to forget about it. But I … I couldn't. It was on my mind from the time I woke up until I went to bed at night. After a while I even started dreaming about it. It's like I was being pulled and pushed to a place I'd never heard of before I found the atlas. Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore. I figured I was either already crazy or heading in that direction in a hurry. Not much to lose when those are your only options, so I packed a duffel bag and headed out. I never found out who marked the route to Abbotsville. I have a hunch, but you'll have to wait for that story. You're not ready to hear it, and I'm not ready to tell it.

“So, after—after I got home from Tennessee, I left the book in my bedroom, in the bottom drawer of my dresser. It was still there months later when I moved into the dorm in Tempe. It turned up in the back seat of my car today. I found it laying on top of my laptop case in the back seat.”

Enrique studied the map of Tennessee in silence for a moment and his wry grin said it all. When he finally spoke, he sounded less than impressed. “All very interesting, Sam. Maybe it was there all along and you just forgot about it. I'm sure there's a plausible explanation,
if
you're even telling the truth.”

“
If
my ass! If you're half as smart as
you
think you are, you know goddamn well I'm telling the truth. But if you want further proof, turn to the map of Arizona.”

Enrique sighed and shook his head, now clearly exasperated. “What's the point, Sam? It won't prove anything about what you are—or aren't—or what you did or didn't do. In fact, I think I already have most of that already figured out.”

“Then looking at the map of Arizona won't hurt anything, will it?” Sam shot back.

“Just do it, Rikki.”

Sam and Enrique both shot startled glances at Falco. The big man had been quiet for much of the exchange, and Sam had almost forgotten he was in the room.

After a moment, Enrique shrugged and turned to the front of the atlas and searched until he found the map of Arizona. It took only a few seconds for the surprise to register on his face.

“See the circle around Casa Grande? I didn't draw it, just like I didn't draw that circle around Abbotsville. Does it mean anything to you?” As Sam waited, he sent a message to Joriel,
From the look on his face, it means
something
to him. Now, would you mind letting me in on—

“How did you know about Casa Grande?” demanded Enrique. “Who told you?” He turned to Falco. “You? You told him? Wait…” Enrique paused as his anger gave way to puzzlement. “No, you couldn't have told him anything, could you, Thomas? You knew we would make the extraction, but you knew nothing about the airport.”

“Wait a minute,” said Sam. “What extraction?”

Falco's disgust was evident in his tone. “You know better than to suggest that I would tell the boy anything about an ongoing mission, Rikki. If I haven't earned your trust by now, then fuck you and the organization.”

“Now wait, Thom—”

“There's no wait. I don't even discuss missions with other Swords unless they're directly involved, and I resent the hell out of your suspicion. But we'll come back to this issue in a moment. We
are
talking about relocating his sister, aren't we?”

“My sister? Relocate?” said Sam, standing up. “Whaddaya mean, ‘relocate'?”

Enrique turned in his chair and locked eyes with Falco. “I'm sorry, Thomas. I wanted to bring you up to speed before now and give you the details, but … well, until I had a chance to speak with you and Sam, I couldn't chance it. I was under orders to divulge nothing until I had an opportunity to assess the situation here. I trust you understand.”

“So make
me
understand, goddamn it!” shouted Sam. “What the hell does this extraction thing have to do with my sister? And where's my mom?”

His eyes never leaving Falco, Enrique said, “Your sister and mother are fine, Sam. A team is moving them to a safe location. In fact, at this very moment they're en route—”

“To the goddamn airfield in Casa Grande,” Sam finished. “You stupid…! Get dressed, Thomas. We've got to hurry!”

Enrique motioned for Sam to take a seat on the sofa. “Just hold on, boy. You aren't going anywhere. Not yet. I told you Katherine and your mother are safe. The escort team is very competent.”

“Safe? Competent? I've seen your idea of competent, in case you've already forgotten about Falco's buddy. Man, you've got no idea what you're up against! Thomas, do you remember earlier when I said we had company?”

Falco, already up from his chair and moving toward the bedroom, called back over his shoulder, “Yeah, I remember. You said they were five or six miles away.”

“Yeah, well those were just the advance scouts or whatever you wanna call them. The real threat is a little farther south. In Casa Grande.”

Falco emerged from the bedroom with his shoulder holster and a fresh shirt, but stopped in his tracks. “You've got to be kidding. That's a good thirty miles from here! You said you couldn't detect them beyond five or six miles.”

Enrique stood up and faced Falco. “Now, wait a damn minute. I read your report, Thomas, but do you really believe this boy can sense demonic entities over five or six miles?”

This time it was Sam's turn to ignore Enrique. “First of all, Casa Grande is closer to forty miles, Falco, and what I said is that I can
pinpoint
the Enemy out to five or six miles. At that distance I can tell you exactly what shithole they're hiding in, and what—or who—they ate for breakfast. But I can sense their general presence over a much longer distance, and I'm telling you, you've sent your team and my family straight into a nest!”

Enrique looked at Falco and said, “I can't fix what's been done, but maybe I can give you a hand in Casa Grande.”

Falco studied Enrique for a long moment. “I'm not sure I'm buying your sudden reversal, but if it's legit, I'm thankful. But as for going to Casa Grande, you're out of your mind, Rikki. I can't allow that. You're too valuable to the organization, and there's no guarantee anyone's coming back from this trip.”

“It isn't for you to decide, Thomas. I can read a map just as well as you can, so we may as well ride together. Have you got a spare gun?”

Falco laid a polymer gun case containing a compact .40-caliber Glock on the coffee table, along with four loaded magazines.

“This was William's spare. He also left a twelve-gauge riot gun under his bed, and a mixed case of sabot slugs and 00 buckshot. You do remember how to shoot, don't you?”

Enrique gave him a “Go to hell” look and Falco laughed. “Since you're determined to give us a hand, you might want to notify the surveillance team that we'll be leaving the hotel in a few minutes.”

Enrique stared at Will's handgun for several seconds, then reached for the cell phone on his belt. As he dialed Malcolm Reading's secure line, he said, “We'll take my rental car.” Looking over his shoulder at Sam, he added, “While we're on the road, maybe you can tell me how the hell you do … whatever it is you do.”

*   *   *

“Do exactly as you're told, when you're told, and we'll all get along just fine. Do you understand?” The woman at the wheel spoke in a calm manner but something in her tone clearly said
Obey or pay
.

Kat and her mother both mumbled acknowledgments. One of the men in the front seat, thickly built and menacing even without the gun, looked over his shoulder and snickered.

He has a mean, mean spirit,
thought Kat.
The others are almost robots, cold and indifferent. But that one … Mr. Snickers, he's just mean.

Her mother kept her eyes focused straight ahead as she and Kat had been instructed, but Kat didn't need to look into Amanda Conner's eyes to see the woman was afraid. The odor of fear mingled with those of confusion and anger made the confines of the vehicle extremely uncomfortable for Kat. Her supernatural senses were choking on the raw emotions pouring from her mother.

Amanda Conner had never been a strong person, and since the death of her husband she had demonstrated time and again her inability to function in the midst of a full-blown crisis, even with the aid of those tiny, pink, heart-shaped pills. And if ever an event qualified as a full-blown crisis, Kat figured this was surely it. Not that Kat wasn't also afraid. But she knew the burden of acting like the adult was, at least for the moment, squarely upon her fourteen-year-old shoulders.

Her own fear, however, wasn't so much for their dire predicament as it was for its root cause. Kat somehow knew the bizarre abduction had something, perhaps everything, to do with Sam and the events in Abbotsville. She also sensed that the kidnappers, highly efficient and well organized, were acting on orders from some higher authority. Katherine and Amanda Conner were little more than bait or barter material. Of course, that also meant they were of value, for now anyway. No, they wouldn't be harmed, unless …
That Mr. Snickers has a real mean spirit.

As for the others, they were merely following orders. Behind the steering wheel of the Escalade sat the young blonde who, with her partner, had come to the Conner front door posing as canvassers for a local church. Kat noted she didn't seem so friendly now. However, to her credit, the woman had glared across the front seat at Mr. Snickers when he laughed at the hostages, then cast a quick glance at Kat via the rearview mirror. A “Pay that idiot no mind, kid” kind of glance.

Kat and her mother were seat-belted into the back seat of the large SUV and pinned between a woman dressed all in black and the man who had come to the front door with the driver. Neither of them spoke or paid any attention to their prisoners. Instead, they maintained a constant vigil through the rear windshield and side glass. Kat knew they were both watching for signs of pursuit, and that was probably a very good thing. She could feel that pursuit was gaining ground.

While Kat didn't have Sam's ability to detect the Enemy at long distances, she did possess her own set of unique gifts, some of which she kept hidden even from Sam. It wasn't that she didn't trust her brother. On the contrary, he was the lone person in her life whom she trusted implicitly. However, she had always figured some secrets just weren't meant to be shared, not even with an older brother. Perhaps especially an older brother.

As the SUV weaved in and out of mid-evening interstate traffic, Kat felt the arrival of a familiar travel companion: carsickness.
I don't have time for this! Not now!

Riding in the back seat always made her carsick, but tonight, an upset stomach was the very least of her problems. Her supernatural senses detected the sickening presence of the Enemy. However, this was more than a mere presence. The SUV was surrounded, the Enemy converging on the Escalade from every direction.