Born in Twilight (21 page)

But not as near as she should be.

My heart plummeted to my feet. All that exuberance rushed out of me like air rushing from a punctured balloon, leaving me weak and devastated. “She isn't in that cabin,” I whispered. “Jameson, we're too late. We've missed them.”

He looked into my eyes, shaking his head hard and fast. “No. Look, maybe Hilary just went out for supplies or something. Eric and Tam probably followed her.”

Hope seemed to run from his eyes to mine, filling my heart. “You think so?”

“My best guess, Angel. Let's go in for a closer look, okay?”

I nodded, drying my tears, and we crept closer, out of the cover of the trees and into the open. The house seemed devoid of life, utterly deserted.

Until a blinding spotlight glared into our eyes, and a loud voice boomed, “Take another step, and we'll kill the child!”

Panic rooted my feet to the very ground. But not Jameson's. He quickly stepped in front of me, pushing my body behind his in a gesture that was so protective it left me breathless with amazement.

“Back up slowly,” he whispered.

I did exactly as he said, knowing it was the protection of the trees he sought. But I clung to his waist, pulling him with me as I backed toward shelter.

“I said stand still. Don't move, or the child dies!”

“Liar!” I shouted. “You don't have my baby!” But despite my brave words, I stopped moving, doubting my own instincts.

“Not here,” the voice replied. “But we have her. Go ahead and run, and you'll find out.”

Only by squinting into the blinding light could I make out the shapes of several men standing just beyond it. And then one of them stepped forward, and I cried out. Because he was holding sweet Tamara in his arms. Her head hung limply forward, and it seemed it was her captor rather than her own legs keeping her upright.

“Tam!” Jameson shouted, lunging forward, but freezing again when the man lifted a blade to her throat.

“Stay still, or watch her bleed like a pig!”

He did as he was told, and I felt his anguish. Shared it. “Don't hurt her,” Jameson said, his voice strong and clear. I was convinced only I could detect the waver that lingered beneath his words. He adored Tamara. I'd known they were friends, but not the extent of their closeness. Not until now. He would die for her. Gladly, he would. “Let her go,” he went on, taking a wary step forward, holding his arms out at his sides in a nonthreatening posture. “Let her go, dammit, and take me instead.”

I gasped in horror. Then bit my lip.
Please, Jameson, don't!
“We'll be taking all of you.” The DPI thug lifted a gun, one I recognized, and my stomach lurched in fear of the tranquilizer I knew the weapon held. And I could see now, from where I stood, better than I had before. I could see the slumped forms of Eric and Roland lying on the ground. Unconscious…or perhaps dead. And just beyond them, Rhiannon, that most regal of all vampires, as several men slung her limp body onto the back of a truck.

I took a single step forward, as an unbelievable fury rose in me.

Run, Angelica!
Jameson's mind screamed out to mine.
You can get away. Go, find the baby and take her as far away from them as you can get!

“I can't leave you like this,” I whispered, automatically speaking aloud, too frightened to think clearly enough to do otherwise. “I can't—”

Go! You're the only chance our daughter has now! If they catch all of us, she'll be theirs forever, Angel. Do this. Run!

Trembling from head to toe, I turned and started for the trees. I heard the shot, and glanced behind me in time to see Jameson, the man I'd once thought of as a monster, leap into the path of the dart that was flying toward me. I saw it plunge into his chest, and saw him sink to the ground. I screamed.

Run….
His thoughts were weakening as the drug did its work.
Run, for the love of Christ, run….

And I ran.

I raced through the forest, heedless of my direction. Limbs slapping my face and tearing at my clothes and hair. I ran, pouring all of my vampiric strength into getting away from them. Jameson was right. I had to stay free, I had to find Amber Lily, and take her from those beasts! But there was another thought, too, whirling in my terrified brain as I plunged through the wilds of the forest. I had to stay free so that I could go back. For him. I had to go back for that arrogant vampire. I couldn't go on if he died at their hands. And the others, as well. I'd go back for all of them.

H
ilary Garner ran. She'd seen them coming, seen them surrounding the cabin that had been the only safe haven she could think of for the child. And God help her, she'd stolen the tiny baby right from under their noses back in White Plains. She'd had no idea if the child's mother was still alive. But her father was. Tamara had received Hilary's cryptic message, and told her Jameson was on the way.

But it had been impossible to wait for him.

Every day, Hilary had checked in on the newborn. Those big dark eyes, and tiny hands, and satin hair, had enchanted her. And she couldn't wait. DPI's roster of experiments had been finalized, and the first of them had been put on Rose Sversky's schedule. And dammit, Hilary couldn't wait.

So she'd taken her, and she'd brought her here. And the bastards had found her. One of them must have realized she'd slipped away from the cabin, too, because she could hear them coming. Heavy footfalls, crushing the leaves and twigs as they ran toward her.

She hugged the bundled-up baby tight in her arms. “Don't worry, honey,” she whispered. “Hilary's going to take care of you, baby. I promised your mama. And I promised myself. I said I'd watch over you, sweetie, until your daddy came for you, and that's what I'm gonna do. I swear, I will.”

She ran faster, weaving and ducking through the trees. But the footsteps came closer, louder, and then someone shouted.

“No. Please, God, help me keep my promise!”

Shots rang out in the night, and searing hot hammers seemed to pound her in the back, slamming her body forward.

“Jesus Christ,” a man yelled. “You'll hit the freaking kid, you idiot!”

She tried to keep going, tried to keep moving. But she lost all the feeling in her legs. They buckled, and she fell to her knees. And then slipped lower. And her arms cradled the baby, and she bent her head to kiss the plump cheek. “I'll keep my promise,” she whispered.

And even before she finished, the men were looming over her, taking the child from her arms. The one man passed the baby to the other. “Here. Whaley said to radio in when we had her, and then get her into a vehicle headed straight back to headquarters. No stopping. No detours. Got it?”

Hilary weakly turned her head, to see the other one nod once and turn to go. She watched the baby disappearing from her sight. “He'll…never…make it back there with her,” she managed. “I won't let him.”

“You aren't going to be much help to anyone for much longer, Garner.”

“I have to,” she whispered. “I promised.”

He shook his head, his eyes dipping down to her torso, then turning away in disgust. He left her there, shouting to some of the others as he did. “It's all over here. Let's get back to the house and transport the others to The Pit.”

“But one is still at large, sir.”

“One, we can handle,” he said. “Later. Let's be sure the others are taken care of first.”

And she listened to them tromping away, their footsteps growing fainter, and then fading entirely. Hilary closed her eyes, and let her head rest against a hunk of moss-covered deadfall. “Please, God,” she whispered. “It's been so long since I've come to you…I know that. But…but I'm sorry.” She gritted her teeth in pain, and drew a breath, forcing herself to go on. “I don't know if you can forgive me for…for all the time I spent working for those monsters. But I didn't know, God. I didn't know.”

The wind seemed to whisper through the pine boughs. It seemed to be calling her name.

“Forgive me, Lord,” she went on. “And help me. I need help to keep my promise.” She opened her eyes and looked up at the dark sky. “Send me a sign,” she whispered. “Send me an angel, and I'll know I'm forgiven. I'll know you're hearing me now, if you'll just send me an angel.”

 

Jameson woke in chains. His mind was groggy, and weak from the drug, but he fought the debilitating effects, blinked his vision clear and tried to survey his surroundings.

He was underground. The smell of the earth surrounded him, even beyond the circular wall made of huge concrete blocks. Jesus, he was in some sort of round dungeon. He was slumped on a hard floor, his legs shackled to the wall behind him, his arms chained up and outspread. Clenching his jaw, he tugged at those chains, but they only rattled in response. He was too weak. Damn, he was too weak to break free.

A soft moan drew his gaze, and he saw the others, chained just as he was. Eric and Roland, Tamara and Rhiannon, her dark hair hanging over her face. But not Angelica. There were other chains dangling from the walls. Empty of prisoners, hanging alone. Angelica occupied none of them.

Thank God. Thank God, she'd gotten away.

Roland staggered to his feet as Jameson looked on. He lifted his head, and their gazes locked.

“Where the hell are we?” Jameson asked, though he was certain Roland had no more clue than he did.

“I can't be sure. Probably one of the safe houses the bastards have scattered all over the country. They'll bring in reinforcements before they try to move us back to White Plains, I imagine.”

Jameson could believe it. Armored trucks and armed guards. And perhaps there was another reason they hadn't been moved just yet. “They want all of us,” he said, realizing his speech sounded drunken and slurred. Roland's brows came up. “Angelica got away. And she's the only one left who'll keep trying to rescue the baby.”

“Yes,” Roland said, nodding slowly. “They'll want to eliminate every possible threat to their keeping that child. She must be considered their most valuable prisoner.”

“I don't believe they have her.”

Eric was stirring awake now. And then Tamara and Rhiannon as well.

“What makes you think so, Jamey?” Tam whispered.

“Angelica,” he said. “I'm not sure what might have happened since, but right up until the moment we were ambushed, Angelica was convinced the child was still safe. She didn't believe them when they said they had her, and I have to cling to that. She senses things about the baby. And she was feeling…almost exuberant. So sure our Amber Lily was in safe hands.”

“Maybe,” Tam whispered, her head nodding once before she pulled her chin up once more. “Maybe Hilary got away before they found the cabin. Maybe the baby is still safe with her.”

“Yes,” Eric put in, sounding weak. “They knew we'd come after her at the cabin, so even if they had missed catching her there, they'd have lain in wait for us.”

“With all of us in captivity, they'll be sure we don't reach the child before they do,” Roland said.

Rhiannon lifted her head, her eyes flashing with anger. “Captivity, my love, is not at all what they have in mind for us. They know better. They won't risk it.” She lifted her head, then slowly closed her eyes. “Look above us,” she whispered.

And one by one the others tipped their heads back. Jameson did likewise, and then felt as if he'd been kicked in the stomach. There was no floor above them. This was no basement, no dungeon, but a pit, with its circular stone walls rising high all around them. An arching ceiling towered high above. A ceiling entirely made of glass.

Jameson tugged at the chains with renewed vigor. Damn the drug! He was as weak as a mortal! Weaker. He pulled until the iron cuffs cut into his wrists, and still didn't loosen their hold on him.

“God, no,” Tamara whispered, and then Jameson heard her soft crying, saw her tears. Her eyes sought Eric's, and her hands strained against their bonds to reach his, but too much space separated them. “I love you, my darling,” she whispered between sobs. “You've given me so much happiness. So much joy…”

“Tamara…” Eric moaned, straining against his bonds.

Rhiannon's eyes narrowed. “Stop it! Stop with the dying declarations of love. We are far from finished!” But her voice didn't quite ring with its usual conviction.

Because she knew, as they all did, that when the sun rose and filled this hole with its golden light, it would be the end. For all of them.

“Dammit,” Jameson shouted. “Dammit, I shouldn't have let you get involved in this. I knew better. I knew I'd just bring trouble to all of you.”

“We're family, Jameson,” Roland said, his voice level and low. “We couldn't not get involved.”

“At least there's still a chance for your child, Jamey,” Tamara whispered. “Angelica will find her, take her away to safety.”

“There will never be a chance for my child,” he said, his rage rising up to envelop his entire being, “Until DPI is brought to ruin. Dammit, when will the rest of you see that? We should have destroyed them long ago. They won't rest until all of our race is annihilated, I know it. And you do as well.”

They said nothing. But there was guilt in their eyes as they looked at one another. He didn't need to hear them say he was right. Maybe they still didn't believe he was. But Jameson knew. One day, someone would rise up. Someone would lead them in revolt, and DPI would be laid to waste. He'd planned to be that someone. But now it looked as if the job would fall to another.

To his own daughter, perhaps.

Jameson lowered his head, closed his eyes, and focused every fiber of his being on Angelica.
Find her, Angel. My beautiful, dark Angel. Find her and keep her safe. I can't be there for her. It's over for me. But you can. You must. Save her, Angel, and tell her about me. Tell her about her father. Tell her…that he loved her.

 

I stopped running. I was not certain what made me stop, but something did. Some sense. Some feeling. And then Jameson's voice flooded my mind. His farewell. His goodbye. And my heart twisted and tore and bled. “No!” I cried out, shaking my fists at the night. “Don't do this, Vampire! Don't leave me!”

But there was no further reply. I tried to get a sense of where he was, using my mind, but I found nothing. And I sobbed, great heaving sobs that tore through me and left me weak.

I had to find him. And my daughter. And I would. Dammit, I would! I raced through the woods, sending my senses out before me, searching, seeking.

Someone was near.

I halted in my panicked race, and turned in a slow circle. And then I heard it. A soft moan, guttural and pain-racked. And for just a moment, I recalled the night that seemed a lifetime ago. That night when a similar sound had drawn me into an alley, where a nightmare awaited me.

Every nerve in me jangled to life. I came fully alert, and turned toward the source of the sound. I saw only a mass of deadfall. But the moan came again.

Closing my eyes, I sent out my senses,
feeling
the very air around me. But there was no one else. Only one person. One very weak, pain-racked mortal. Moving silently, I stepped closer. And then I saw her. She lay very still among the brush, and the scent of blood was strong around her.

My hesitation vanished, and I hurried forward. Brown eyes opened when I crouched beside her, and I knew her. This was the dark-skinned woman with the kindness in her eyes. The one who had been with me when my daughter was born. The one who'd promised, without a word, that she would help my innocent baby.

Hilary Garner. She lay still, and very near death. Her body riddled with bullet holes, and blood flowing slowly from each of them.

“You,” she whispered, and it was a tremendous effort for her even to speak.

“I'm here,” I said, stroking her hair away from her face. “Don't try to talk. I'll help you. It will be all right.”

“No.” Weakly, she shook her head. “Nothing…you can do. It's enough…that you're here.”

And yet I pressed my hands to the wounds in her chest, attempting to slow the ebb of life from this woman.

“I asked…” she rasped, “God…to send me an angel. And…he sent you.”

I blinked in shock, and looked down at her. Angel. It was what Jameson called me. But surely God wasn't still having a hand in my life. Surely he hadn't guided my steps. Surely it wasn't possible that I was still a part of his plan.

Was it?

“They…they took her. They took…the baby….”

“I'll get her back,” I said, and I tore strips of cloth from my dress and packed them into her wounds.

“He'll…protect her,” she said softly. “He promised…
I
promised.”

“I owe you more than I can ever repay, Hilary Garner,” I whispered.

“White Plains,” she said, and she was weakening rapidly. “They're going to try…to take her back…there.”

“I'll go for her. Don't worry, I'll find her.”

A soft hand came up to grip my wrist as I worked to pack another wound with cloth. “The…others…first.”

I frowned down at her.

“Route…Ten,” she gasped and bit her lip. “Twelve miles north. An old…l-logging road…veers east.”

“And what is there, Hilary? Is that where the others are being held?”