Darker Things (The Lockman Chronicles #1) (8 page)

With an almost painful suddenness, he found himself back at the night he’d asked Kate to marry him. They had playfully thrown back and forth ideas for their wedding. She became obsessed with having a
Star Wars
wedding where she would dress like Princess Leia and he as Han Solo.

But who’s going to be the wookie?
She’d asked.

I think your mother would be perfect,
he’d said and got a soft punch in the arm for it.

“May I help you?”

Lockman looked up from the display case to a woman in a pinstriped pantsuit that probably cost more than Lockman’s entire wardrobe. Especially considering he now
wore
his entire wardrobe since he had to leave all his things behind.

“I’m looking for Schmitt.”

One of her eyebrows lifted. “I’m sorry, who?”

“Schmitt.” Whether there was such a person, Lockman doubted. This was the code, though, to alert the contact to his association with the Agency.

Only she continued to stare at him as if he had asked her to lick the bottom of his boot. “There is no one by that name here.”

Possible she worked the legitimate side of the chapel’s business without knowing it was a cover. “Is the manager or owner around?”

“Yes. I’m she.”

“Oh.”

“There are a lot of chapels in Vegas. It’s easy to get confused. But I’m sure whatever Mr. Schmitt is offering, we can meet or exceed your expectations. Is the bride close by?”

“I…uh…”

The door banged open and a second later Jessie rushed in from the foyer. Her chest heaved. “I think they’re here. They found us.”

Chapter Eleven

Kate turned on a cheesy soap opera in the spare bedroom and cranked the treadmill up to a comfortable jog. Some sweat and melodrama might take her mind off of how incredibly powerless she felt. But less than a half-mile into the run she lost track of who was pregnant with whose baby and who had returned from the dead. Her mind kept falling back to
him
.

She couldn’t even get herself to think his name.

That’s ridiculous. Why fight it?

She swiped some sweat off of her forehead and adjusted the incline on the treadmill. The burn in her calves started almost immediately.

God, she hated running. But it was the only kind of exercise she could find time for, and part of doing it had to do with the self-torture. Her own private punishment for all the mistakes she’d made along the way.

She said she was going to meet her real father.

Real? As if she had a fake one. Kate had never fooled herself into thinking Alec would fill that void for Jessie. All she had ever asked was that Jessie accept Kate’s own need for companionship. Something she hadn’t even realized she was missing until she bumped into Alec at the grocery store.

Kate dialed up the speed a notch.

The burn moved up her calves into her thighs and buttocks. Her breathing inched toward ragged.

How could Jessie have found out where to find him? How far away was she? How had she gotten there? The questions opened up possibilities that turned Kate’s stomach just thinking about. Hitchhiking? Some seedy bus station? Some older friend with a driver’s license Kate didn’t know about?

After four miles, Kate gave up and abandoned the treadmill and soaps. She got in the shower, let the spray caresses her scalp, and remembered his strong fingers running through her hair, how he could work those fingers over the top of her head and get a near orgasmic reaction from her. He knew exactly how to touch her, no matter where he put his hands.

She stepped out of the shower spray, her naked back pressed against the cold tiles. Jesus, what was she doing thinking about him like that?

Out of the warm water she began to shiver and her skin turned to gooseflesh. She quickly rinsed and got out of the shower. She had just finished toweling off when Alec knocked and peeked in.

Kate wrapped her towel around her. “Hey.”

He studied her face a moment. “You all right?”

She tucked a corner of her towel in to keep it around her, then took up her brush and ran it through her hair. “Worried about Jess is all.”

“She’ll probably be back in time for dinner.”

Instead of looking at him, she watched herself in the mirror while she brushed her hair. She hadn’t told him about her visit to Ryan’s house. Alec didn’t know much about Jessie’s father and Kate preferred to keep it that way. Telling Alec what Jessie was up to would make it hard not to breach the subject. “I’m sure you’re right.”

He came close to her, put his hands on her shoulders and massaged.

She set down her brush and closed her eyes, trying to enjoy the contact. It felt good.

But nothing like the way
he
could touch me.

Kate tried to squelch the thought, but it had already tainted her mind like an oil slick on water.

Alec stopped massaging. “What?”

“Nothing. Why?”

“You went tense. Did I hurt you?”

A deep breath and a conscious effort to loosen her muscles in her neck and shoulders. Somehow she managed. She turned to face Alec, kissed him gently on the lips. “I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

“Who said anything about being without me?”

“I’m just saying you’re really important to me. I love you.”

He smiled. He slid one of his hands down along her neck and then hooked his fingers into the towel along the tops of her breasts. “I love you, too.” He tugged just enough to make the towel drop away to the floor.

She leaned against him and kissed him hard, could feel him responding immediately. They wasted little time getting him undressed. He lifted her onto the bathroom counter and pushed himself inside of her.

Kate closed her eyes and concentrated on the growing warmth below. But in the darkness behind her eyelids she saw
his
face. And when she climaxed, it took every bit of her strength to keep from calling out his name.

Craig.

Chapter Twelve

The wall adjacent to the one with the display case had a window facing the street. Lockman moved to the window and peered through curtains as sheer as wedding veils. A black SUV, tinted windows, sat double parked a few cars down from their stolen Town Car.

“Did they see you?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Probably. I was just standing out there when they pulled up. How could they have found us?”

Lockman ignored the question and turned to the woman in the pinstriped pantsuit.

She looked mildly puzzled, but not the least bit alarmed. This was Vegas. She had probably dealt with all sorts of odd couples. “I take it someone doesn’t approve of the relationship,” she said without a trace of judgment herself.

“You have a back way out of here?”

“Of course. Would you like me to stall for you?”

“It’s probably better if you leave too.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“I’m sure you’ve seen your share of freaks, but the freak show about to come through your door will make everyone else look like amateurs.”

“Please. How bad can they be?”

“They’ll probably be armed.”

One eyebrow quirked up. “In that case…” She moved to a small, ornate desk in one corner, reached into a drawer, and pulled out a nickel-plated .45 almost as big as she was. She racked the slide. “I’ll be ready.”

“Only in Vegas.” Lockman grabbed Jessie by the arm and pulled her with him into the chapel proper, which amounted to six rows of pews and a raised platform at the head of the room with a small podium. Not nearly as gaudy as one would expect, but this was probably the empty canvas upon which to paint the Vegas wedding only true lovers could appreciate.

The chapel owner followed them in and pointed to a door by the podium. “Through there is a small dressing room and a fire exit to the back lot. And don’t worry. Love defies age. I can tell you two were made for each other.”

Jessie made a gagging sound. “Gross.”

Lockman pulled her down the aisle. “You ever get married in a place like this, I’ll deny having any part in your creation.”

“Wouldn’t change much on my end, would it?”

He noticed the bitterness in her remark. More than her usual sarcasm. He stayed focused and led her out the back, both of them squinting in the blazing sunlight.

They stood in a small lot with space enough for three cars. Two of the spots were taken by a red Ferrari and a white cargo van.

“Are we really going to leave her to face them?” Jessie asked.

Lockman guided her to the cargo van and checked the driver’s side door. Unlocked. “She didn’t want to come.”

“She doesn’t know what’s gonna come through her door.”

“And I didn’t have time to convince her.” He climbed behind the van’s wheel and went to work hotwiring. “Get in.”

“You can’t just leave her.”

“Listen to me. I can only save so many lives in a single day. Right now my priority is reconnecting with my people and getting you safe.”

“I didn’t ask for your protection.”

He got the van started. The motor chugged reluctantly at best. “She’s fine. They’ll probably question her and move on. But we have to make sure we’re gone. Now.”

He no sooner said it when the man in the suit stepped out the back door. He looked no more threatening than a salesman. The oddest feature on him was the thick beard and dark eyebrows. The man spotted them at the van and stalked toward them.

Jessie shaded her eyes with a hand and watched him head over.

“Get in,” Lockman said.

“Maybe that’s one of your people.”

“It isn’t.”

“How do you know? Isn’t this supposed to be your contact place?”

“Not anymore.” He grabbed her and pulled her into the van, lifting her over his lap and tossing her into the passenger seat. He threw the van in gear and stamped on the gas pedal.

The man in the suit froze.

Lockman drove the car right into him.

Jessie threw her hands over her eyes. “Oh my God, what are you doing?”

The man clung to the hood even after impact.

Lockman kept on the gas and smashed into the back wall of the chapel, pinning the man in the suit between the front of the van and the building.

The man jerked and spat blood across the van’s dirty white hood.

Lockman kept his eyes locked on the man’s. They stared at each other for a handful of seconds. Then the man gave Lockman a bloody smile and reached forward. His hands bubbled and morphed. Hair the color of steel wool grew over his knuckles and the backs of his arms. His fingertips drew into long talons.

“Great.” Lockman threw the van in park and cut the engine. “Out.”

He flung open his door and dragged Jessie out behind him. She must have caught a glimpse on her way of the shifting creature because she screamed and came along a lot more easily.

“What’s that?” she asked as they crossed the parking lot to the Ferrari.

“No interest in hanging around to find out.”

This time he didn’t have to tell her to get in the car. She hopped into the passenger seat and fastened her seatbelt without further comment.

It took a little longer to get the Ferrari started, but he liked the sound of its engine a lot better than the van’s. Of course, a Ferrari wasn’t the low profile kind of vehicle he would prefer. Beggars, in this case, couldn’t be choosers.

The van started to shimmy and shake on its axles from the beast’s efforts to work its way free.

Lockman peeled out of the lot and didn’t look back. But he heard the squeal of twisting metal echo behind them.

They blew by the parked SUV belonging to their pursuer. Lockman felt tempted to stop and look for some weapon or clue he might use for a counter attack. He wasn’t sure the shape shifting monster couldn’t get free, though. He had no desire to see the thing fully transformed. Sharp teeth probably played some role.

“How did they find us?” Jessie asked again.

He resisted flooring the Ferrari. Last thing they needed was to get pulled over for speeding. But he pushed the speed limit, wanting to get as far away from the chapel as possible.

“Either they somehow knew that address used to be a safe haven—”

“Used to be?”

“Yes. We’re on our own.”

She whispered something under her breath and chewed on a thumbnail.

“They could be tracking us as well. Can’t be the cars. Can’t be anything on me or they would have come long ago.”

“You think it’s me.”

“It’s the only explanation.”

“Like, what? They somehow planted a tracking device on me? How would they even know I exist if you didn’t?”

“I’ve been asking myself that for a while now.”

“What are we going to do?”

“You have to tell me how you found me. No more screwing around.”

She nodded. When she spoke, her voice shook. “Okay, yeah. I hired a private detective. He tracked you down.”

“Tracked me down how?” Lockman took the next right, a random decision, and checked the rearview for any sign they were being followed.

“He wouldn’t say. I had money saved that I’d been planning to use to hire someone to find you. The guy I picked found you after a few days.”

“How did you find this guy?”

“Yellow pages. I chose the place with the office closest to home since I had to walk there.”

None of it made sense. “And he wouldn’t tell you how he found me?”

“He said not to ask because he couldn’t tell me. I figured he might have done something less than legal, so I didn’t push the issue. Whatever he did, obviously it worked.”

“We have to go see this PI.”

“What? Why?”

“I have to know how he found me.”

“Why is that so important?”

Lockman didn’t answer for a moment, troubled by what it meant. He took a few more random turns, always making sure to put more distance between them and the chapel, and always weary of any sign they had a tail.

“Because it means someone gave me up. Someone I know. Someone I trusted.”

He could feel Jessie’s gaze on him, smell the fear in her sweat.

“I have to know who.”

Chapter Thirteen