A Perfect Darkness (16 page)

So this was what she looked like through the eyes of someone who loved her. That thought startled her. Did he love her?

She was about to put them back when she saw one of those horrid dream sketches stuffed way in the back. She pulled it out and saw a man lying dead on the ground. Why was this one here? She felt darkness descend on her as she recognized the man's features.

Lucas.
He had seen his own death. She searched for more sketches. What was it that Eric had said? He
drew it four nights in a row and then it happened the next day? Only one sketch, though. He had hidden it here. Which probably meant he hadn't told Eric or Petra.

Urgency thrummed through her. He had seen his own death, and he'd been acting as though he would die in that terrible place. He wouldn't last much longer. She had to find him.

I
t was six in the morning, and sitting at the desk in the tiny office, all Amy could hear was the hum of the fridge. She needed her music; working without it was like working without one of her senses. Thank God they had a coffee maker, though no fair trade coffee. Darn Ozzie, making her all socially aware.

Ozzie!
She had to call and tell him where to get his car and to find a home for Orn'ry. She started to reach for her cell phone but realized the charge was dead. Actually, better not to call from here. Maybe she was being paranoid, but she couldn't take any chances. She'd watched crime shows where the perp was caught because of cell calls that linked him to a certain tower.

She'd nuked some popcorn and was tossing them up in the air and catching them when a husky voice startled her from behind, making her miss.

“Hey.” Eric came in wearing athletic pants and a faded, tight T-shirt bearing the words
2002 beer festival
on a stein. He looked like a sleepy little boy with his hair matted down. She remembered how she'd
thought his spiky hair reminded her of flames. How accurate she'd been. He picked up her purple phone. “What's this?”

Seeing his hair made her smooth down her own wild hair. “Uh, they call them cell phones. Very handy devices.”

He smirked. “I mean, you've got to get rid of it. Some of these have GPS chips in them. In any case, they can get a bead on your location by which tower picked up your calls.”

“Yeah, I just thought of that.”

“We bought untraceable phones. I'll get one for you.”

She sighed. No more purple phone. “I think I've got it, or at least a part of it.”

Petra wandered in, wearing velvet pajamas that showed a slice of her flat stomach, her hands wrapped around a mug of coffee. “Got what?”

“I found a document named ‘E-Aruda.' Give me about ten more minutes and I think I'll have it.”

Unfortunately they waited, looking over her shoulder as she worked and releasing huffs of impatience. They eventually flopped on the floor, scarfing her popcorn. Petra got up and left, returned, and Amy smelled nail polish. When she turned, she was shocked to see Eric painting her toenails.

Petra said, “My legs are so long it was a hassle to paint my toes. One day Eric saw me struggling and did it for me.”

It was such a touching gesture it was hard to believe it was Eric doing it. Seeing her expression, he said, “Don't be jealous. I can do yours next.”

She tucked her feet beneath the chair and went back
to work. While the computer did its thing, she itched for parts to glue together. What she would have given for an old motherboard and some pliers.

Okay, maybe it was more like twenty-five and a half minutes. These things couldn't be rushed. “It's a log, like a diary,” she said, bringing them to their feet behind her.

 

March 15
:
EA getting suspicious. Probably that creepy psychic ability. Must be careful. The guy is definitely trouble.

April 24
:
EA followed me; lost him eventually. Official report is that EA will not be cooperative, and in fact, will only create problems. He's volatile, into trouble, and has displayed tendencies that endanger us and others. He has no value at all to the program. My recommendation is to terminate him. Then again, I think they should all be terminated. They're a bunch of freaks, but the boss won't buy that. Getting rid of this one, and possibly Vanderwyck, would be a good start. Think the boss will agree on EA, at least.

 

Petra gasped. Eric said, “Now you see why I had to kill the guy. With Lucas's sketches and now this, we know he was gunning for us. For me, especially.”

“Maybe so. It's just scary to think my baby brother killed someone.”

He touched her arm. “I'm still the same asshole you've always known and loved. But now things are different, and I'm willing to kill to protect myself and my own.” He looked at Amy.

Was he including her? The thought made her flush.

Petra leaned over her shoulder. “What's the deal with all the weird symbols and stuff?”

“That's the part I can't recover. I found another document called P-Aruda.”

“Open it,” she said in a low voice.

“Give me another ten minutes.”

They both sighed and walked out this time, leaving her in peace for the fifteen minutes it took to finagle some data out of that file.

“Not much,” she announced when they returned after her summons. “All I could get was a few random things.”

Beautiful. Too bad she's one of them. No apparent ability. Keeps to herself. Periodic outbursts for no apparent reason.

Amy swiveled around in the chair with a raised eyebrow. “Outbursts?”

Petra narrowed her eyes and jabbed her finger at Eric. “You! Everyone at Hooters thought I was crazy because of you.”

Eric actually looked chagrined as he shrugged his shoulders. It was the first time she'd seen any contrition, and not over killing people but annoying his sister. He was an enigma. “That was your fault for getting so uptight about it.”

Amy took them both in. “'Splain, Lucy.”

Petra said, “He would remote view to me at work. I could always feel him looking at the girls, even in the changing room. Perv. Then I'd get mad at him, and they thought I was yelling at myself.”

“I had a funny feeling when I was on Cyrus's computer,” Amy said to Eric. “That was you watching me,
wasn't it? That's how you knew he was online.” She popped another piece of popcorn.

“Yep. And how I knew you were at Hammond's, too.” He eyed Petra as he tossed a piece of popcorn into his mouth. “And now you know why I'm a
perv.
”

Petra rolled her eyes. “Great, now he has an excuse. Have you seen his room?”

“Hey, it's art.”

“Naked women art.”

Eric took her hand. “Come here, Amy; you tell me if this is porn.”

He escorted her one door down to his room. Oh, brother. When he flicked on the light, she was surprised. She expected boobs and va-jay-jay's, not sepia-toned paintings of passionate embraces, a woman with a towel draped artfully over her body, and an angel leaning over a man on his knees before her.

“Tomasz Rut,” he said with a touch of pride. “I've been buying them at art auctions. Lucas has a few, too.”

“They're beautiful,” she had to concede.

From behind them, Petra said, “And what about the
Playboy
s?”

“I need a diversion. It's not like I'm going to get a chance to do the bump and grind anytime soon.”

Amy returned to the office. She didn't want to pursue that line of conversation. As she printed out the documents, the others in the room with her again, she remembered something. “We have access to a car that's not tied to any of us. Cyrus gave it to me.”

Petra said, “But I like driving Lucas's car. It's like having him with us.”

Eric shook his head. “It's also a good way to get
caught. Even with changing the tags, it's a risk every time we take it out. It's too recognizable.” His expression softened, another surprise. “If you want to feel close to him, just go sit in it.” He told Amy, “But getting Cyrus's car is too risky. They might be watching it. They were probably keeping tabs on Cyrus; they knew he was meeting you, after all. We don't know if they followed him to the car's drop-off location.”

“I
have
to get the car.”

He raised his eyebrows at the emotion in her voice. “What do you mean, ‘have to'?”

“Cyrus risked—and lost—his life to warn and protect me. As much as Lucas's car means to Petra, this car means as much to me.” It would be the last thing he'd ever do for her. “Besides, we need it. Like you said, we can't take Lucas's or our cars.”

“No.”

“I think you just like being contrary.”

“I think
you
like being contrary.”

She slapped her hand on her forehead. Orn'ry had nothing on Eric. “I'm going to get the car, with or without you.”

“If you want to take the chance, go alone. Now, about the hard drive: is there anything else you can scavenge?”

“There's a file on here for Lucas, too, but that one is beyond reconstruction. We won't know what he reported.”

Eric leaned against the rack of car batteries. “Probably not much, since he kept his sketches down here. There were a few times, though, that he was in the middle of doing the four sketches when they were in his bedroom. Gladstone could have seen those.”

“Did you know that Lucas saw his own death?”

By their expressions, they didn't. Petra especially looked scared. “How do you know?”

Amy walked into the bedroom and returned with the sketch. They both studied it with horrified expressions.

Eric said, “He didn't tell us a lot of things.”

Petra's fingers curled around the edge of the paper, her gaze riveted to the sketch. “How could he not tell us something like this? He saw his own death and didn't say a word about it!”

“He was always private,” Eric said. “Even as a kid. But he probably didn't want to worry us. Sometimes I hate that noble son of a bitch,” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Amy ran her hands down Lucas's shirt, which she was wearing, along with Petra's black leggings. “I think he's in real trouble. I connected with him last night, but he wasn't able to hold on. Whatever they're injecting him with is changing his abilities.” Fear welled up inside her. “We have to get him now.”

Eric clenched his fists. “I'll try to remote view him again.” He stretched out on the floor and closed his eyes. “You need to be quiet. And patient.”

“Like you were about the hard drive,” she asked with a slight smile.

“I was
Saint
Patience. You were just taking too long.”

Petra sat next to him. He took deep breaths, his stomach rising and falling in rhythm. His body stiffened and the veins at his temples filled with blood. His face reddened. His fingers twitched. He looked as though he was having a seizure. Amy looked at Petra,
who was watching and seemingly not worried about his behavior. So this was normal. Well, normal for this.

During all this oddness, she felt a surge of joy. It took a moment to figure out why. She belonged for the first time in her life. Not a misfit or oddball; maybe more like part of an oddball group. With Eric and Petra, she was normal.

They waited, watching Eric. He began to mumble, and then little epileptic tremors moved through his muscles. Sweat beaded on his skin, glistening on his upper lip. His breathing quickened. Something was happening.

Please see him.

A minute passed. Two. He opened his eyes, and she could see his frustration. He was drained, and Petra helped him sit up.

“All I see is darkness. I hear nothing. If he's there, he's in a void. Creepy as hell.”

Amy felt something stir inside her. “Once, he said something about being in the dark and someone startling him when they turned on the light. Maybe you've been there but couldn't see anything.”

“Now you tell me.”

“Lucas and I have a connection. What if you and I worked together to reach him? Your ability to go there and mine to connect to him? Maybe I can bring you into his mind with me.”

He banged his hand against the wall. “I shouldn't need anyone else to see him.”

She pursed her lips. “Well, you do, so get it over it.”

He turned to say something, leaning into her face. “You are…you…”

She met his hard glare. Seconds ticked by. Petra cracked her knuckles, and Amy could see in her peripheral vision that she was watching them.

“Let's do it,” he growled, instead of saying what was clearly on his mind.

Petra gave her an admiring look as she brushed her long blond hair back from her face. “Are you strong enough to do this, Eric?” she asked him. “You just—”

“I can do it,” he muttered.

Amy and Eric sat on the floor facing each other, and Petra sat cross-legged in the chair next to them.

“We should probably hold hands,” Amy said. “To make the connection between us.”

They awkwardly clasped hands. His were big and squeezed hers a little too tightly. She didn't say a word about it.

“You go, like you usually do,” Amy said. “Take me with you.”

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. For a few minutes she felt nothing.
Please let this work. It has to work. We need more to go on.

A few more minutes passed.

She felt a tingle go through her body.
Yes, more!
Eric's hands grew hot, creating a dampness between their palms. She put her focus back on the tingling. Something tugged at her consciousness, a strange swirling in her stomach that moved up into her head. Involuntarily she pulled back, but he squeezed tighter and kept her in place. She felt a constriction, something closing in around her, heard a heartbeat and knew it wasn't hers.

One image after another flashed in front of her like a movie trailer, lingering a moment on each scene
before moving on. A young boy and girl, Eric and Petra, and then a burned-out house, and then a teenage Lucas screaming, “
What did you do?”
Flames licked away at another structure. She experienced what Eric did when he saw fire, a deep, erotic sensation curling through her just as smoke curled into the air. She was seeing things from his mind, feeling what he felt.

She saw a man tied up in a chair, looking at Eric with disgust, and felt Eric's frustration and rage. She heard the man say, “You're done for, freak of nature!” The man's face changed as a flame ignited on his pant leg. Eric's satisfaction, his deep hunger for revenge, flowed through her, too. Then the scene changed, and she experienced Eric making love with a woman. Then she saw the paintings Lucas had done of her, and an embarrassed flush rushed through her when she saw him looking at her, her body, and then her in bed sleeping, feeling a different kind of hunger.