Heavy Metal (A Goddesses Rising Novel) (Entangled Select) (24 page)

“Yeah, but these names mean nothing to me.” He angled the laptop for Nick to scan the list. The protector shook his head and went back to watching for John.

“We don’t have time to research them. Even if the abductors are rich, they might be smart enough to have rented one of the lower units. Put a layer between their names and anyone looking for them.”

“Too bad we can’t count on them not being smart,” Nick grumped.

“Yeah.” Sam shook his head with a humorless chuckle. “They did get us, after all. How’s your head, by the way?” Nick had insisted he was okay to drive despite the nasty headache the tranq gave him.

“Pounding. But it’ll be fine.”

For a fleeting second, Sam considered trying to heal Nick. At the immediate image of his hand on the back of Nick’s head, while Nick screamed and his brains scrambled, Sam stopped considering.

“There’s John.” Nick climbed out of the car and closed his door quietly. The small thud still echoed in the dark silence, and the figure walking up the entry ramp turned, hesitated, and walked in their direction.

Sam dumped the laptop into its case and opened his door, moving slowly and willing his body to cooperate. Every muscle had stiffened and most ached. He forced himself upright and closed the car door to join Nick and John.

“They could be anywhere.” Nick gestured at the building connected to the garage by a stairwell/elevator combo. “We’ll have to search the whole place.”

“How are we gonna have any clue which unit they’re in?”

“I have an idea about that—” Nick broke off at the scrape of a shoe down the aisle. He and Sam both looked, but John didn’t turn.

Sam understood why a moment later, as Marley walked under the closest light.

“What’s she doing here?” he asked.

“She wanted to help.” John gave him an implacable look. “Quinn’s her sister, and Riley’s her friend.”

She reached John’s side and nodded a greeting. “Have you heard from them again?”

“No.” Sam told himself that didn’t mean anything.

“You still buzzing?” Nick asked Sam.

Sam frowned. “Can you be more specific?” He was buzzing in four different ways.

“From the transfer. The power thing?”

“Some, yeah. I guess.”

“Think you could use it like Riley does, to sense where she and Quinn are? Or the Numina people?”

John grunted at the word but didn’t say anything.

Sam lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. I can try. If I have any power left I can probably detect Riley.” He’d gotten a pulse of her energy at the beach, and something deeper than endorphins had surged when they made love. He could identify that energy if he sensed it again, but he didn’t know how far the range extended or how to seek it, and he doubted he could do it with anyone but her right now.

“So what’s the plan?” John asked. “Just walk around?”

“That’s what it’s going to have to be,” Nick said. “Once Sam identifies their location—”

“
If
I can identify their location.”

Nick didn’t even look at him. “We’ll scope it out and decide how to go in.”

“I’ll go with Sam.” Marley said. When the men all stared at her, she leaned as if to back up, then straightened and squared her shoulders. “It would look suspicious for you three to walk the halls together. Sam and I can blend in better.”

“You don’t have any defenses,” Nick pointed out.

Marley flinched and didn’t respond directly. “If anyone realizes we’re wandering, we can claim we don’t know which apartment we’re looking for. A dinner party or something.”

Sam was skeptical. “It’s almost midnight.”

“Some people have late parties.”

It was better than nothing, and they didn’t have time to argue. “All right, fine.”

“Hang on.” Nick opened the Charger’s door and pulled the pistol out of the glove box. He checked it, then held it out to Sam, who held up his hands and backed away. There was no way he was steady enough to carry that safely.

Nick swiveled to offer it to Marley. She hesitated, then shook her head. “Where am I going to hide that?”

Nick swore and went around to the trunk. He rummaged in it a minute, then came back and gave Marley a switchblade that she slid into her front jeans pocket. He tried to hand Sam a combat knife that would probably be more dangerous to himself than anyone he came up against.

“They haven’t used weapons yet,” Sam told him. “We’re just scoping out an apartment building right now. I’ll be fine.”

He and Marley left a very disgruntled Nick and walked together toward the stairwell.

“Keep us posted,” Nick called. Sam waved acknowledgment and pushed through the fire door. They went down one flight and into a long, narrow extension of the lobby that ran along the side of the building, an access hall connecting the garage and main entrance. It was very white, freshly painted with a gleaming floor.

Sam cleared his throat as they walked toward the front of the building. So much had happened, the few days since he last talked to Marley felt like a lot longer than the year before it. What he wanted to ask her was full of awkward references and emotional minefields.

“Did you, um, back when you still…you know…could you tell the difference between regular people and goddesses?” He braced himself, but Marley only nodded, watching her feet as she walked.

Maybe he could actually do this. “What’s it like? To sense someone? I thought I could feel the life in the ocean, but it was like pulses. I had no idea
what
each pulse was.”

“That part is different for everyone. It was almost like lights for me. Glittery, like the crystals.”

Crystals had been her power source. Since the ocean was the dominant source for the power in Sam right now, and the other part—if there was any left—was the river, he’d guess there was something watery about identifying goddesses. But without having one nearby, he had no guide. And he was no longer close to the power source, so whatever he’d seen in Riley before, he wasn’t sure it would be there now.

He blew out a breath as they neared the end of the hall. “I have no idea how to do this.”

“Try it on me.”

Sam frowned at her and held up a hand as they reached the corner. He listened and heard nothing, so he leaned to check the lobby. Empty. Not even a security desk. The front door had a keycard slide to unlock it, but they hadn’t needed one from the garage.

“Something’s off here,” he murmured.

“What?” Marley stepped up next to him and looked around at the nondescript lobby and glass front door. “Looks normal to me.”

Sam huffed a laugh. “Of course it does. But these guys have money. I knew the building didn’t have much security, but…”

“How do you know they have money?”

He looked down at her. “What do you mean?”

“John told me about Numina, and your theory that this is a splinter group. He and Jeannine have been meeting with a few members of the leadership. It’s been slow going, since Numina haven’t revealed themselves to us in centuries, but he thinks they reached out now because of that splintering. So maybe these are the kids of those disgraced men, and they
don’t
have money.”

“Maybe. Puts a new spin on the ‘luxury’ of those top-floor apartments, too.” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Marley didn’t have the abilities of a goddess anymore, but maybe she still had a signature. It was worth trying.

He focused on each of his senses in turn. He smelled floor wax, a hint of car exhaust, and something sweet that was probably Marley’s perfume or lotion or something. He heard traffic outside, a distant horn, and in here…humming in the walls. Wiring, AC and heating equipment maybe. Metallic clanking in the nearby elevator shaft. He stretched his arm out to press a hand to the wall, and the hum vibrated into his fingers. The wall itself was smooth, glossy enough for his fingers to stick when he tried to slide them along the surface.

Normal senses catalogued, he tried to expand his mind, to “see” something extra. The power in his body surged. He mentally caught on to it, as if grabbing a tendril of smoke, and everything suddenly heightened. He focused outward, and there she was.

But instead of a buzz or golden light like Riley described, or even the shimmery, illusion-type thing he’d imagined, Marley was more of a smudge on his subconscious. Something dark and heavy. Not malevolent, but absent of life or purpose. Null.

He blinked and found Marley smiling sadly at him. “Don’t tell me what you saw.”

He nodded and turned away to hide the expression he knew would only show sadness and pity. He took a deep breath and as they entered the first-floor hallway lined with apartment doors, tried not to think of all the ways this could fail.

Chapter Eighteen

Uncle Martin came for a visit yesterday. He brought friends, which always upsets Mama. She made them sleep in the barn, but they still look at me at mealtimes. I know what they want. It’s not what other girls are afraid of from boys. But those men won’t get it. My power is mine, and I won’t give it to anyone.

—Meandress Chronicles,
compilation of family diaries

Riley and Quinn had powered down the phone and flashlight, so Riley had no idea how long they sat in the dark, planning in whispers in case the room was being monitored. They could hear noise from outside, occasional horns and sirens, so it wasn’t soundproof.

“Can you sense anyone nearby?” Quinn asked. Her voice was weaker than it had been when Riley first got here.

“No, but I still haven’t determined my range.” So they might be alone in the apartment, or there might be a dozen hired goons waiting somewhere close. “How are you doing?” she asked Quinn.

“Not good.” A moan escaped when she shifted position.

“You won’t be able to fight.”

Quinn sighed. “No. The power that’s left, as little as it is relative to the mass I originally held, is draining me. Fighting would be an epic fail.”

Riley got to her knees and ran her hands along the bed frame. “I need metal. I want to be prepared when they come in here.” The room was empty except for the bed, so she found what pieces she could detach from the frame and worked them loose, stuffing curled-up springs, screws, and nuts into her pockets. Digging under the mattress, she jerked on the support posts. One of them rattled.

“Yes! Can you shift down the bed a little so I can work this free?”

Quinn complied, and Riley shoved the mattress up to work at the bolts attaching the post with L-braces. “Ow, fuck,” she muttered. The edge of the bolt hole was jagged, and a couple of nails caught and ripped at the quick, but she kept going until she held a three-foot-long metal club. She hefted it, drawing a little energy, slowly increasing it until the metal warmed under her hand. By shifting her grip to a cooler spot, she could avoid the burns she’d suffered with the chains.

“I’m going to try breaking down the door,” she told Quinn, walking over. “The hinges and deadbolt have got to be metal, so maybe I can—” She touched the doorknob and yelped, yanking her hand away as a shock ran up her arm. “Crap. They’ve got it wired somehow.” She reached again, trying to imagine a shield of energy over her hand. It worked, to an extent. When she neared the doorknob there was resistance—which meant she couldn’t get close enough to touch it.

“Please be careful,” Quinn said from the bed. “Don’t—”

Riley let out a string of curses as her groping fingers found the hinges, and the jolt went through her entire body this time. Furious, she kicked at the door, near the lock, then near the center, thinking she could kick a hole through it at least. But the thing was solid. Probably reinforced. She barely cracked the center, even after kicking several times, and it didn’t even rattle in the jamb.

She limped back to Quinn and dropped onto the mattress. “I need to try to unlock it telekinetically, but I don’t know how.”

“Maybe I can talk you through it. You opened the car door that way, right?”

“Yeah.” But Riley was skeptical. “I know how to pull a handle. It wasn’t easy though, because my abilities are more punch than pull. This is finesse, and I have no idea what the inside of a lock looks like.”

“Rest a minute, and then we’ll try.”

But as she’d expected, Riley was unable to make it work. She thought about melting the metal but needed contact for that, and she still couldn’t push through the pain of the electricity to touch anything near the door, even the latch plate that curled slightly around the jamb.

She paced the dark, empty room, frustrated. “Boosting the phone signal was finesse. Why can’t I do something else that’s finesse-y?”

“It’s different,” Quinn placated. “The phone signal is energy. You just fed it with the energy you pulled through the metal. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

That didn’t make Riley feel better. Despite the new things she’d tried since meeting Sam and John’s training, it still seemed as haphazard as when she first realized she was a freak.

Suck it up, Riley. Whatever you can do, you do. You’re the only one here who can.

“Okay, new strategy. We’ll wait for whoever comes for us first. If it’s Sam and Nick, yay. If it’s not, I have this.” She brandished the metal tubing she’d detached from the bed. “We’ll fight our way out.”

Quinn didn’t comment on her optimistic
we
.

They sat in silence, Riley working to build her strength and the amount of energy she held without doing damage. Quinn’s breathing, beside her, was slow and even, and Riley knew she was gathering her own strength.

Riley waited, alert. Eyes closed, listening. Voices.
People
—a presence she felt an instant before the latch clicked. She had a brief throb of disappointment that the signature wasn’t Sam’s before she jumped to her feet and braced against the wall next to the door, strong and ready, just before it opened. Her breathing was steady, her heart rate normal. Sweat didn’t slick her palms or bead on her forehead. She’d do whatever she needed to protect them both.

She whacked the first guy through the door on top of the head. Not hard enough to kill him, but enough to drive him to his knees.

“Wha the fuh?” He swayed and lifted his hand. Riley kicked him between the shoulder blades and followed him to the carpet.

Everything seemed to happen at a normal speed, though Riley knew it was moving faster. The guy groaned and tried to get up. “Stay down,” she ordered, and pushed him flat with her foot.

Now she faced the doorway and the next guy coming in. He rushed Riley, growling. She swung the pipe like a baseball bat and connected with the side of his head. He fell into the door, knocking it against the wall, and tumbled to the floor.

“Ground rule double,” Riley muttered, and Quinn laughed behind her.

The hall outside was empty, but Riley stood at the ready, waiting, all her senses tuned to high. She got a very light prickle from the two goons on the floor, but still sensed nothing beyond this room.

“Go,” Quinn croaked. “Get out, and get help.”

“No way.” Riley flipped over the first guy, who seemed slightly more coherent than his partner, and yanked him up by his Polo shirt. “What do you want with us? Who’s in charge?”

His mouth stretched in a wobbly grimace that she assumed was supposed to be a grin. “Not telling.”

“Yes, you are.” She raised the metal tube again, gratified to see fear flicker through his eyes, but the feeling was short-lived. She didn’t want to be that person. The bully. Someone who got off on intimidating other people or even hurting them. Was it her power or the circumstances that were making her this way?

Her strength ebbed, and their jailer sagged in her grip. Pain seared through the muscles in the underside of her forearm. Okay, she wanted to be that person, at least until they got out of here. She’d go to counseling later.

She pulled more energy and got right in the guy’s face. “Tell me.”

He tried to shrug and only succeeded in flopping his arms. His speech was clearer, though. “Tournado told us to leech you two. Just enough to get us started. Then we’d have the power to get more.”

“Oh, for God’s sake.” She dropped him in disgust but didn’t bother to correct his understanding of how leeching worked. “How many of you are here?”

“Too many for you,” he mumbled, and she took that to mean none.

“Come on.” She hustled over to Quinn and tried to help her off the bed.

“No, you need to scout the place. I’ll slow you down, and if he’s not lying about having backup, we’re cooked.”

Riley hated that Quinn was right. Leaving her here felt completely wrong, but dragging her blind wasn’t going to get them far. “Okay, but…” She hesitated, then handed Quinn the pipe.

“You need that.” Quinn tried to give it back.

“No, I’m good. I have other stuff. You need something to defend yourself with. It’s hard, and at the very least, maybe you can clang it against the bed frame to call me back if you need help.”

“All right. Thanks.” Quinn wrapped her hand around the pipe and balanced it in the crook of her elbow. Riley was afraid she wouldn’t have the strength to swing it, but…

“Hey, wait a second.” Metal gave
her
strength. Could she channel that? Not just the raw energy as a concussive burst, but the strength itself? Feed Quinn, kind of like feeding the cell signal. She wrapped her hands around Quinn’s, making sure to contact the metal, and closed her eyes to concentrate on infusing Quinn with the energy Riley had already internalized. It was all instinct, maybe applied with a little bit of logic, but unaffected by doubt. Slowly, her body seemed to deflate as Quinn’s skin warmed.

Quinn drew in an audible breath. “Riley,” she breathed. “Wow.”

Riley opened her eyes and smiled. Quinn blinked at her in the light from the hall. “It worked?”

“Yes. Thank you. But you—”

“I’m good.” She got off the bed and dug into her pockets, coming out with fistfuls of small metal parts. The strength she’d lost returned. She pushed it all into her arms and fists and grinned. “Now I just need someone to punch.”

“Be careful. Don’t burn yourself.”

“I won’t.” She couldn’t draw constantly on the energy, especially since she couldn’t let go of the metal and there was no cool spot to shift to. She’d have to perfect quick draws and bursts on the fly until she found something better.

She stopped wasting time and spun away, dashing to the door and peering up and down the hall. It was a standard apartment hallway, though longer than she’d anticipated. There were three other typical flat-panel doors, neutral, high-grade carpet, and off-white painted walls. No art. The ceiling light fixture was ornate, though. A smoke detector sat next to it. Maybe she could set that off, but if it wasn’t wired to the fire department, it would call attention to them without getting help.

She stepped over the second guy’s legs into the hall. Neither punk tried to stop her. They hadn’t provided much of a challenge. Maybe sniveling, greedy weasels didn’t have as much of their ancestors’ influence, and that was why they registered so low to her Numina senses. She didn’t want to refer to them as gods. Before it was a little scary to consider. Now it seemed to be giving them too much credit.

The hall dead-ended to her left, but she went that way first to hurriedly check the other rooms. Having both hands full wasn’t going to work, so she shoved the nuts and springs in her left hand into her pocket again and tried the door handles. All were locked except the one opening into a basic, all-tan bathroom. The gleaming fixtures and new-paint smell made her think this apartment hadn’t been occupied in a while. The vanity was bare, the glass door to the step-in shower very clean.

Riley backed up and listened at the locked doors, trying to feel the interiors of the rooms. She heard no sounds and felt no prickles. She couldn’t assume the rooms were empty, though. She tapped the first doorknob. When it didn’t shock her, she twisted it hard enough to break the lock and pushed open the door. The light from the hall showed it to be as empty as everything else. Ditto the other room.

The lack of…
anything
gave her a chill. Were they planning to abduct other goddesses and trap them here? These doors had been easy to break into, but maybe the reinforced door of the other room was stage one and they hadn’t gotten this far yet.

The two guys staggered into the hallway from the room Quinn was in, blocking Riley’s access to the open end. One of them pointed at Riley. “Get her!”

She couldn’t get enough energy from the metal she held to knock them back from here, so she charged down the hall, braced to plow through them. She pushed the energy out in front of her, hoping to knock them out of her way.

Except they’d gotten smart, or stopped underestimating her, or decided they weren’t scared of her after all. Maybe getting hit in the head had pissed them off, or fear of what Anson would do to them if she got away galvanized them. Also, she apparently sucked at creating a shield. They didn’t budge when the energy she thought she pushed ahead of her hit them. Then, despite her speed and strength, they stood firm and grabbed her, working together to hold on when she immediately kicked and flailed.

“No! Let me go!” She wrenched one arm free, but the metal in her fist wasn’t enough. She couldn’t draw enough power to get away, not with four arms and hands alternately wrapping around her and grabbing her wrists and legs.

“Hold her, goddammit!” one of them growled.

The other cursed and dodged her skull when she tried a reverse head-butt. Her hand stung, the metal heating. She had to change strategies.

She went limp so abruptly it took them by surprise, and her body slid through their hands. Once on the floor, she scrambled away, digging into her pocket for the other metal pieces. This time, she made sure the sharp ends of the springs poked between her fingers, and when they chased after her down the hall toward the main area of the apartment, she spun and scratched one in the face.

“Shit!” He skidded to a halt, his hands pressed to the bloody marks. “Get her!”

The other guy got a determined look on his face and charged. Riley reached the kitchen and dodged around the center island, trying to keep an eye on him and find alternate metal at the same time. The appliances were stainless steel, but it would be too easy to drag her away from them. Unless…

No, crazy idea. Too heavy, too slow if it didn’t work. She stared around, her vision blurring as she tried to take in her surroundings all at once. She wasn’t calm and steady anymore. Her lungs hurt from panting, and her heart pounded, pulse throbbing in her neck and arms. Her palms were burned and scratched. But she had to neutralize these two long enough to get Quinn out. Maybe then they could hide somewhere until Nick and Sam got here.

The kitchen shared an open floor plan with the dining room, separated from the living room by a half wall on the other side. More neutral colors. Brown, boring furniture matched the brown marble countertops, and the same plush carpeting flowed all the way to the front door, save where speckled tan ceramic tile lined the kitchen floor. The rooms were all large, and besides the doors leading to closets and a powder room, that was it. The entire apartment. Like in the bathroom, it smelled of new paint and cleaning products, and Riley assumed it was staged for sale. Or maybe a new purchase, since there was absolutely nothing on the countertops. No cute canisters, no fancy toaster or coffeepot. Nothing that would help her.