Demons are a Ghoul's Best Friend: Afterglow, Book 2 (21 page)

Her mind ricocheted around, desperate, frantic, finally doing the only thing it could. She let out a mental scream of terror, releasing some of her AG energies onto that
other
plane, hoping that someone somewhere could hear it.

And for a brief instant she felt a touch, a light brush of something heated, darting into that place where she hid her AG secrets. It was gone too soon. Perhaps she’d imagined it. But as the monster drew closer, she allowed herself a brief prayer.

Dear God, please—please let it be real—

Cheney’s body stilled, his quiet steps frozen as he felt something, some sensation of pain and terror flitter across his senses.

He’d investigated a few rooms so far, finding nothing that would be of any interest to anyone except possibly an antique collector. But when he walked into what looked like a library, all that changed.

There was a briefcase on the floor. It was Pandora’s. He recognized it immediately and a chill spread down his spine.

Damn the woman. What the hell was she doing here?

A tiny sound attracted his attention and he noticed a bookshelf out of alignment. With a wry grimace, he pushed it, unsurprised at the corridor it revealed. And to think he’d imagined secret passageways had gone out of style. More fool he. If anywhere had ’em, the Larson mansion was as good a candidate as any.

Convinced that he was on the right track, he pushed his fears for Pandora aside. He
had
to focus, not get distracted. Buck was depending on it, and it could well mean the difference between good things and bad things for Pandora too. He’d seen no servants or guards, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there.

Cautiously he crept along the corridor, slowing to a halt as he saw the opening to a large cellar. This must be the underground laboratory. Musty and unpleasant smells made him wrinkle his nose, and he dropped into a crouch as he eased his way between tables and shelving units.

Now he could hear a murmur of voices. Or one voice, maybe. Try as he might he couldn’t hear Pandora.

He unclipped his weapon, holding it low, almost crawling now as he neared some bright lights where the sounds were coming from.

There
. A soft moan. God, what was going on? And how best to approach without being seen? The element of surprise was on his side, and he desperately wanted to keep it that way. A few feet more and he found a patch of shadows—slowly and silently he rose to his feet.

And barely stopped himself from gasping in horror.

Pandora was strapped to some kind of chair, her eyes vague and unfocused, her wings beginning to emerge behind her, delicate traceries of branches and leaves.

But it was the thing in front of her that took the breath from his lungs. Ghoul-like, the bony head moved this way and that, its hands hovering around her face and clasping small metallic discs.

“Stay still now. This won’t hurt. You’ll be amazed at the power, dear. You’ll thank me.”

Whatever it was, Cheney knew it was bad. He could damn near smell the evil oozing off its grey skin.

Pandora’s twitching grew frantic and he saw her chest rise as she sucked in air and managed a muted scream. “Nooooo—”

The sound shattered Cheney’s need for stealth. He rushed from his hiding place, gun held steady and aimed at the creature. “Police officer. Freeze. Stop what you’re doing and get away from her.”

It muttered an oath and turned, shocking Cheney to his core as he got a good look at the face for the first time. “Damn you to hell. I’m so close. Do you really think you can stop me now?”

“Stop you or kill you. Either way I don’t care. Just leave her alone.”

“Too late, stupid beast. You’re too late.” It reached behind itself and grabbed something from a table. Its arm flung wide and there was a brilliant searing flash of light, almost blinding Cheney. Fortunately, he was focused on the creature not the flare. He shot, missing it as it tumbled away from Pandora.

“Too bad.” The creature sneered from behind a large cabinet. “And too late. I told you. My work will go on. You won’t find me so easily next time.”

The cellar began to shake and dust cascaded down from the ceiling, drawing Cheney’s attention.

“It’s all going away.” A high-pitched giggle followed the words. “But I have other places. Other labs. Too bad you won’t be around to see them.” It vanished as the entire room rattled.

Cracks appeared in the concrete floor, large bangs and clatters echoed from beams stressed beyond their endurance—that flash had detonated something in this place that threatened to bring the entire mansion down around their ears.

He rushed to Pandora. “Hey. I’m here.”

She could only nod, tears spilling down over her cheeks. “Drug…” She moaned the word.

“Okay. Gonna get you out.” He fumbled with the wristbands and finally sprung the latches, but not before several beams crashed onto the surrounding equipment, sending shards of glass through the air like savage missiles.

One clipped his cheek but he ignored it. “We have to get out of here.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet.

“Can’t…” She stared at the entrance. It was blocked by debris and the air was getting thicker all the time. “Cheney.” Her hand clawed at his arm. “Tree. Can save us. Hold on…”

He hadn’t a clue what she meant, but in that instant he stared into her eyes and heard her silent plea for his trust and his faith. And what he saw there reassured him. He put his arms around her and held on.

Pandora released her talent.

Chapter Seventeen

Finally,
finally
she could do what she’d been holding back. Pandora released her AG skills with more urgency than ever before, feeling the relief of setting the dryad free. Her emotions were chaotic, the transition was uncontrolled and fueled only by terror and a need to escape with Cheney. To save him if she could.

It took mere seconds for her feet to root through the crumbling cement and only a few more moments for her to become the tree she’d envisioned. Sturdy limbs sprang loose as her trunk thickened. She was vaguely aware that Cheney was clinging to her, but it was all in the abstract. For her there was nothing but the unspeakable thrill of filling herself with her essence, and surprisingly finding other essences there as well.

She grew, thrusting skyward, breaking past the wooden structure above with the ease of a volcano erupting into the empty air. All around her was destruction, the mansion subsiding in a mess of lumber and ruins, but none of it stayed her motion.

She felt no pity, no pain. She simply grew, forcing her topmost branches out into the daylight, rejoicing as the setting sun first kissed the leaves, spreading new ones to grasp every iota of warmth.

There was a wind, a stiff wind, blowing from other trees that had heard her call for help. Willingly they sent her their own special energies, the flexibility of a willow, the strength of an oak, the thick protection of a maple tree’s bark. All merged into the natural wonder that was Pandora, all accepted and used with joy and with pleasure.

She soared into the sky, appreciating for the first time what it meant to be a dryad, to feel this incredible euphoria, this sensation of being part of the earth and the sky above. To live within the cells of such an amazing creation. To be the essence of something so special, so unique.

It was breathtaking, and the part that was Pandora gasped with astounded pleasure. Now she fully understood—and would never be the same again.

From somewhere in her branches came a sound—her name.

Cheney
.

He was still holding fast to her trunk, his legs wrapped around a thick limb. And they both were well above the chaos that was the collapsing mansion.

She stilled her motion, letting her newly formed body settle into place, a massive tree firmly rooted, a safe haven for the man who had saved her. It was a fair exchange.

Except for the fact that he seemed a bit distressed that he was quite some distance from the ground.

Silly man. It was nothing to be concerned about. She held him safely away from danger. Couldn’t he realize that?

More shouting followed and Pandora-the-tree sighed, her branches swaying in response. Time to let go of the dear thing. Slowly she tilted to one side, letting the warm weight slip downward over her trunk and through the thickest of her lower limbs.

As soon as she felt it leave her body, she straightened again. This was amazing. Letting the breeze riffle her leaves, sensing new growth, old growth, arranging the tiny branches so that they could receive maximum sunlight—truly being a tree was a challenge and an intriguing puzzle.

She could have spent years exploring it. She was entranced, willingly going deeper into the mysteries and delights offered by this new form.

But then she felt something. And heard something. A name—
her
name.

Pandora.

And the voice was familiar. It was Cheney, shouting to her, tugging on her branches to get her attention.

“Come back to me, Pandora. Please. Listen to my voice. I need you to come back to me.”

Come back?
Leave this wonderland of sensation? Leave the exciting feeling of touching the sky?

“Pandora, I love you. I can’t do a damn thing without you. Come back, honey. I need you…” There was desperation in his cry.

Love
? She stilled her branches. That was new. Something very new and exciting. Something that touched the human part of her thoughts and warmed them. Love was—unexpected. Love was—good. And love was—
Cheney
.

His name in her mind, his voice beneath her branches—something re-awoke within her.

And finally brought her back.

Cheney was desperate, trying to find any way he could to connect with Pandora on whatever level was open to him. He let his thoughts free into his AG levels, hoping she’d hear them. He beat his fists against the massive trunk that emerged from what was left of the mansion. He wondered if she was hurt, how she’d get back to him.

And all the while his heart was thudding frantically at the knowledge she might be gone from him forever.

Then there was a shudder, powerful enough to shake the ground.

“Jesus.” He stepped back, unwilling to let her go, but knowing if he stayed where he was it might not be good.

The air around the tree shimmered and shivered and there was a sound like a sigh on the wind as the leaves began to twinkle and disappear.

The huge creation vanished before his eyes, leaving Pandora lying on the ground, filthy and still.

“God.” He ran to her, nearly tripping over some bricks and falling to his knees as he reached for her neck to find her pulse. He damn near cried when he felt it, thumping strongly beneath his fingertips.

He gathered her in his arms, cradling her, wrapping her in what was left of her clothing, encouraging her to wake up. “Honey, it’s okay. Pandora. Open your eyes, love.” He brushed hair away from her face in time to see her eyelids flicker and finally part, revealing those teal blue eyes of hers. “That’s my girl.”

“Cheney. Hi.” She coughed and cleared her throat. “Wow. Helluva ride, huh?”

“You remember?” He wanted to squeeze her to bits but restrained himself to a gentle hug.

“Most of it.” She fidgeted. “Ow. I hurt.”

“Where? Is it the drug?” Hurriedly he ran his hands over her, looking for injuries. Although her arms and legs seemed fine, there might be internal damage or something… He looked up and yelled. “
Medic
.”

“No, no.” She reached out and touched his cheek. “I’m fine. The drug’s gone. Don’t know why but I’m okay. Just give me a minute to catch my breath.” She blinked. “You’ve got
medics
here? How long—?” She coughed again.

“We called for backup when we got here. Alerted everybody. Didn’t know you were inside.” He touched her again, reassuring himself she was there. “We’ll talk about
that
later, young lady.” He tried for a paternal frown but couldn’t quite manage it over the relief that was currently turning his knees to jelly. Overwhelmed by that relief he surrendered and tugged her to his chest. “I love you. When I thought I’d lost you, well—damn. Don’t ever do that to me again, okay?”

She nodded against him and chuckled weakly. “Okay. It wasn’t fun anyway.” She lifted her face. “By the way, same goes, Detective.”

Well that just screamed out for a smacking great kiss, but—as was always the case—privacy was hard to come by when surrounded by half the police force, med techs, forensics investigators and one very nosy partner.

Cheney sighed and simply held her tighter.

She wriggled. “I need to breathe here, Mr. Muscleman. And I could use a coat or something…”

“Sorry.” He loosened his grip a little and shrugged out of his jacket, helping her tuck herself inside it.

“Buck? Is he here too?” She twisted her head. “What happened, Cheney? Did you see…?” She struggled more, ready to stand on her own two feet if at all possible.

Yeah, like he was gonna let that happen.

However, he did allow her to rise and steadied her with his arm as she managed to remain upright. And he barely repressed a chuckle as she gasped at the damage surrounding them, a catastrophe for which she’d been largely responsible.

“Good God.” She looked at the debris-filled crater where the Larson mansion used to be.

“How’s she doing?” Buck walked up to them and glanced at Cheney.

“We’re in for some hellacious lawsuits if we’re not careful.” She was still surveying the wreckage.

“She’s fine.” Cheney grinned, knowing his joy was written all over his face and not caring one iota if his partner noticed it or not. “Don’t even say it. Save it for later. We’ve got a shitload of details to clear up here and she needs a pair of pants before she gets arrested for public nudity.”

Buck deliberately looked skyward. “I’ll have the medic bring something over. He’s on his way to check her out anyway. The paperwork on this one’s gonna be a bitch and a half, you know that, right?”

Pandora turned. “Did you—? Is it—?” She tried again. “The thing that was Victoria. Did you get it?”

“It’s dead.” Buck dropped any efforts at humor. “Its escape route was through the sculpture around an old fountain in the back. Which used to be right about…there.” He pointed to a messed-up clump of earth with some shards of granite poking out. “I was hiding behind the sculpture. The thing came out just as my hiding place shattered, but it wasn’t expecting me so the timing worked great.” He looked down in embarrassment. “I hate to say it, but it scared me so much I shot it on sight.”