Heavy Metal (A Goddesses Rising Novel) (Entangled Select) (26 page)

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Authors: Natalie J. Damschroder

Tags: #goddesses, #Natalie Damschroder, #Romance, #heavy metal, #Goddesses Rising, #urban fantasy

BOOK: Heavy Metal (A Goddesses Rising Novel) (Entangled Select)
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And then those eyes rolled up into the guy’s head, and he slumped to the floor. Riley stood behind him, her hand still raised where she’d done…
something
to the kid. Her lower lip was split, and a three-inch bruise bloomed above her left eye. Her chest showed scratches where the bastards had torn at her shirt.

“You were taking too long,” she said. “I got bored.”

Sam engulfed her, unable to get her close enough even though his arms could have wrapped around her twice. “You scared me,” he murmured against her hair. His turmoil eased further with each moment of contact. Craving replaced it, a need to bury himself in her—physically, emotionally, forever. The terror he’d felt outside the apartment spiked for a second and then slid away, no match for the richer, stronger emotion that welled up after it.

“Are you okay?” he managed to ask.

She pulled out of the embrace and gave a half-hearted nod. “Okay enough.”

Sam pulled himself together and concentrated on the here and now. “What the hell did you do to him, the Vulcan nerve pinch?”

That got a smile out of her, though it immediately became a frown when she spotted the crowd on the floor. A couple of the boys were trying to extricate themselves.

“Something like that, I guess. I just applied energy to a particular spot and willed him unconscious.”

Sam stared at her. “You are incredible.” She didn’t look at him, and he was afraid she read the wrong thing in his voice. “Seriously, Riley. Look at me.” He pinched her chin and tilted it until she had to look at him. “I’m sorry I didn’t get there sooner. But you are amazing.”

It didn’t help. Darkness clouded her eyes. Guilt, maybe, or an echo of his earlier fear.

A shout came from the front room. Sam tried to hold Riley back, but she shook him off. Whatever had knocked her out before didn’t seem to be affecting her now. She leaped across the pile of Numina kids—landing on some of them as she went—and dashed down the hall. Sam followed but froze when he reached her side at the end of the hall.

The room was almost completely empty. The three Numina men and the protégées who hadn’t been in the hall were gone, and so was John, if he’d ever arrived after Nick did. Marley crouched next to where Nick was on one knee, supporting her sister. Quinn opened her eyes, and Sam went icy cold at how pale they’d become. She’d been leeched—not completely, but anything was too much.

“God, no.”

Nick looked up. “Anson. The shit got away.”


No
,” Sam repeated, louder. He whirled toward the front door, hands in fists, fury pulsing in every muscle. As long as Anson was out there, free, he could do this. Not just to Quinn, with whom he had a unique connection, but now that he’d gotten some power back, he could do this to anyone. To Riley.

Nick’s voice stopped him. “Sam. It’s too late. And we have to take care of Quinn.”

Sam hauled back on his rage, his driving need to chase down the enemy and stop him for good. “What do we do?”

“I don’t know.” Nick’s voice shook. “I’ve never seen her so weak.”

“Water,” Quinn croaked.

Marley jumped up. “I’ve got it.”

Riley limped over to them. “I think I can help.” She knelt to put her hand on Quinn’s and raised her eyebrows in question. Quinn nodded and closed her eyes.

Sam couldn’t tell what happened, but a few moments later, he caught Riley as she swayed back. Quinn sat up.

“That’s better.” She sounded a little stronger. “Thank you, Riley, and I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be stupid.” Riley tried to stand, but Sam held her down.

“Give yourself a minute.”

Cupboard doors banged in the kitchen several feet away. “There’s nothing here!” Marley cried.

“In my pack.” Nick indicated his bag on the floor inside the door. “There’s a flask in there. Empty.” He helped Quinn sit up and, when she shifted to stand, locked his hand around her wrist to gently pull her upright. “What do you think?”

She nodded. “I can get to the car.”

“Downstairs. I’ll bring the car to you.”

“No time.” She took the flask Marley handed her and drank deeply, nodding her thanks. “We have to get out of here before John comes back with the cops.”

Sam and Riley stood. He kept his arm around her as they all moved toward the door. “That’s where he went?”

“He called the cops from the elevator when Marley told us what was going on,” Nick explained. “If we’re lucky, they intercepted the Numina fuckers on their way out. They hauled ass when John and I came in here. We’ll deal with all of that later.” He lifted Quinn into his arms. “This is faster,” he bit out to cut off her attempt to argue. Marley grabbed Nick’s bag and followed them out the door, Sam and Riley taking up the rear.

“Where are we going to go?” Riley asked once they were in the elevator. She pressed the button for the lobby while Sam positioned himself in front of the doors. “Portland,” Quinn said without lifting her head from Nick’s shoulder. “Tanda’s next.” She coughed and closed her eyes.

Sam checked behind him in the reflection on the elevator’s highly polished doors. Nick stared at the numbers flashing above, as if willing them to move faster. Sam thought he might shatter if he loosened up even a fraction. Marley had moved close to her sister and kept making reassuring touches to her hair, her shoulder, her hand. Quinn rested her head on Nick’s shoulder and smiled at Marley.

Still without looking, Sam reached over and threaded his fingers through Riley’s. He shouldn’t give in to the clawing need. Shouldn’t take them closer to something that could devastate them both in the end. But the comfort and stability that came with touching her was worth it. For now.

No matter what happened next, he’d do everything in his power to make it all right.

For everyone.

Chapter Twenty

Failure is never defeat, but simply a reminder to see alternate paths to your destination. Sometimes, failure actually indicates that you are on the wrong path altogether. Recognition of this can lead to enlightenment, and even peace.

—Millinger.com

Rain clattered against the apartment window. Normally a comforting sound, today it grated on Sam’s nerves. He shifted on the hard wooden chair and sighed before plugging another database into the browser. His finger came down harder on the “enter” button than he’d intended.

“Nothing yet, huh?” Riley dug her thumbs and fingers into Sam’s shoulders.

“No sign of him.” He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. She was trying to soothe him, to help ease his tension, but need seeped into him with every stroke of her hands. He’d tried everything he knew to track Anson, to no avail. “Nick call?”

“Not yet.”

“Fuck.” He scoured both hands over his face and left them there, for a few seconds not fighting the comfort and pleasure she gave him. Not giving over to the guilt that permeated everything. Riley felt him give in and sighed, digging deeper, leaning into him so her body pressed against his. And Sam let her, for far longer than he should have.

Every time he closed his eyes, his senses ignited—with the power residue inside him, making itself at home instead of making him sick. With Riley’s power, a beauty that made him ache with longing and more. And with the awful mess of Quinn, asleep in Tanda’s guest room, where she’d been for most of the last three days.

Tanda’s elegant living room told the tale of those days. The cushions of the plum-colored love seat and plush chairs were all askew, half of them covered with old papers and books. The cherry wood coffee table was barely visible under dirty dishes and their pizza box left over from lunch. More books and papers littered the card table where Sam worked, surrounding the laptop that now beeped in annoyance when he tried to enter information into the database search box. The table was set up next to the wide windows and sliding doors that opened to her concrete balcony, which was now saturated with the rain that hadn’t stopped since they arrived.

With rain, Tanda’s source, the conditions for transferring her power back to her couldn’t be more perfect.

Tanda had taken them in without question, and without caring that they couldn’t make her whole again. Yet, Quinn had said. Many times. Except the more time that passed, the more it looked like “yet” meant “never.”

John turning the Numina gang over to the police had been a bold, confusing move. The police had held everyone except Danner and Lilling, experts at self-preservation. They’d thrown the kids under the bus and disappeared. John’s story and the condition of the apartment had meshed, so they’d held the kids while they tried to figure out what had happened. But since Riley and Quinn hadn’t stayed, the stall tactic expired about a day and a half ago.

Quinn hadn’t been fully leeched. In fact, Anson hadn’t taken much at all—Sam and Riley had both confirmed that. But it was enough to leave Quinn too weak to initiate the transfer. Marley had spent the previous three days caring for her sister, and Riley infused Quinn with strength several times a day. Otherwise, Sam was afraid she’d have died under the strain…and taken Nick with her. Sam had never seen the guy like this. He’d always been one to hold everything inside, to keep his most personal emotions locked in a lead box. Now, Sam wasn’t sure at any given moment if Nick would snap at them, blow up, or burst into tears.

Okay, probably not the tears.

But the worst part was Anson. Sam had heeded Nick’s plea not to go after him, and it turned out they needed the asshole anyway. The power he’d taken had included Quinn’s and Marley’s and Tanda’s in one entangled mass. Even though he hadn’t gotten it all, Quinn wouldn’t be able to do a clean transfer until it was all restored. And they couldn’t find him. He’d gone completely off the grid. The Society had their entire security team looking for him, too, and John had shuffled protectors to the closest and most vulnerable goddesses in case Anson went straight for a new source.

Riley stayed by Sam’s side as she’d promised she would, her very presence maintaining his equilibrium, even without much physical contact. But the limbo applied to them, too. His feelings for Riley had become relentless. Everything he’d worried about when he first met her, first started to fall for her, had been rendered insignificant. His real feelings entwined with his energy need until he clung to control with his fingertips. Every night he lay on the floor in the living room, staring at the ceiling, dying to go into the guest room she shared with the other women and lie with her, propriety be damned. But he didn’t want to hurt her, and there were so many ways he could.

“Sam, take a break.” Her soft hands pried his gently off his face, and she sat in the folding chair next to the table. “You haven’t slept in days.”

“No one has.” He pulled his hands away and blinked hard, staring at the computer screen. With a few keystrokes, he set the site back to the initial entry and got it working.
Searching…
flashed on the monitor. “It’s all right. I just need more coffee.”

“We’re out. Tanda went to get some—and groceries—so we can have a real meal. Marley went with her.” Riley frowned at Sam. “I talked to Quinn about the transfer this morning.”

“Yeah?” The search results filled the screen. Sam skimmed over them.
Here’s a promising one.
A credit card charge in California. He highlighted, copied, and pasted the data into another search engine.

“Giving Tanda back her ability isn’t going to be enough,” Riley said.

“Yeah, I know… Crap.” Dead end. “I think Anson might have been in Sacramento yesterday, but I can’t find anything to back it up.”

“Beth’s power is almost gone. So she thinks that won’t be a problem.”

“Right,” Sam agreed. “And whatever tiny bit is left can stay in me until it fades naturally, like it has since she died.”

“But Marley’s power can’t stay in Quinn. It’s strangling her.”

He pulled up a folder of bookmarks to see what resources he hadn’t tried yet. Medical care, but Anson hadn’t been hurt in the confrontation. Though… Sam thought about how sick Quinn was. There was a slim possibility the power Anson stole was making him sick, too. He shrugged and clicked a bookmark for a site that he knew was completely illegal.

“Sam!”

He jumped a little at her near shout and turned his attention away from the computer. “What?”

“I don’t want you to do it.” Her hazel eyes were as dark as he’d ever seen them, tired and filled with worry. And something else that set his heart pounding.

“Do what?”

“Take Marley’s power. It can’t go anywhere, and it’s poison. That’s the word
you
used.”

Sam stretched his arms over his head and winced as his back cracked. “We don’t know how it will affect me.”

“We know how it’s affecting Quinn. Why would you be any different?”

“I can’t leave—” He stopped. He didn’t want to talk about this. He
had
to take that power from Quinn. He was the only one who could. There were no other options. No point in debating it.

That was the problem. He knew it might leave him completely debilitated. He was willing to accept that, to make that choice. The uncertainty of what would happen kept him from telling Riley how he felt. The last thing he wanted was for her to think she had some obligation to keep taking care of him afterward, even when he had nothing to give her.

“I know, Sam.” She put her hand over his, her voice soft and hurt. “But you can’t keep it. Transfer it to me.”

“What? No!” He lurched to his feet and moved away a couple of paces. “What’s the difference between leaving it in Quinn or putting it in you?” Wow, that hadn’t come out right. “I won’t do that to you, Riley. I won’t deliberately do something to hurt you.” He said it significantly, not looking away from her eyes, hoping she understood.

“But—”

The apartment door slammed open. Riley jumped up and Sam spun, half expecting a battered Marley or Tanda to fall through.

Never in a million years would he have expected Anson.

He looked horrible, like patient zero in an epidemic movie. His face was pasty, with shadows around his eyes so dark they were almost black, the eyelids red, the blue glow of his eyes almost visible turmoil. His lips were cracked and dry, his clothes rumpled and stained, his hair standing on end—and, Sam was pretty sure, missing tufts.

“Sam,” he croaked. “I’m sorry.”

And then he passed out on the carpet.

Nick appeared in the doorway. “Where the hell did he come from?”

“I don’t know.” Sam leaped the two steps up to the foyer area and stood next to Nick, looking down at Anson. “What a mess.”

“This had better not be another fucking ambush.” Nick checked the hall, then closed and locked all six locks. “Where are Tanda and Marley?”

“Store,” Riley said. She’d stayed right where she was, on the far side of the room. Her expression bore no sympathy for Anson. “He’s sick like Quinn.”

“What?” Sam focused to view his energy, and sure enough, the power he’d taken looked like Quinn’s…with Tanda’s silvery tendrils gliding around the furious, thrashing power that had been Marley’s. “Good,” he stated with grim satisfaction. “Serves him right.”

“Maybe.” Riley took a few steps closer. “But he’s here. We can take it back. Complete the transfers, so Quinn can get better.”

“Yes.” Sam suddenly felt lighter than he had for days. Weeks, even. “Nick—”

“I’ll get her. Call Tanda,” he ordered Riley, but she already had her phone out.

Sam bent to slap Anson on the face. “Wake up.”

It took a few more slaps, but he blinked awake. When he saw Sam looming over him, he lunged upward, clutching his flannel shirt in both hands. “I’m sorry. I know you won’t believe me, and I know you’ll think it’s because it’s killing me, but I am sorry. I promise, if you help get this out of me, you’ll never see me again.”

“Don’t worry. We’re way ahead of you.”

In a short time, Sam had Anson strapped down on a cot next to Quinn’s bed. They weren’t taking any chances. Quinn lay on her side, a hungry look on her hollowed face as she watched them get everything ready. Riley stood behind her, one hand on a tall brass lamp, the other on Quinn’s shoulder, feeding her strength again.

“All right. What do you need?” Nick asked Quinn.

“Nothing. This part I can do myself.” But she didn’t reach for Anson. “Why didn’t you take more?” she asked him.

His mouth pressed into a line. Sam assumed the answer would piss them all off.

“I couldn’t. I mean, I
could
. I always wondered if I could get it from you, even though I couldn’t get it from anyone else, because I’d had it last. I could have taken it all. I just…knew that was a very bad idea.”

“But instead of sending it back, you took off like a coward,” Sam accused.

Anson nodded. “That’s about it, yeah.”

Sam rocked on his heels, unable to think of anything else to say.

Quinn set her hand in the center of Anson’s chest. Neither one moved. There was no surge like Sam felt in the Numina apartment, no crackle of electricity in the air. And no evidence, thank God, of pain or sickness. After a moment, Quinn rolled up to sit, then stand.

“Where’s Tanda?” Her voice was strained, but her body straight, her manner calm and determined.

“She should be here any minute,” said Riley. “She and Marley were already on their way back.” She’d barely finished speaking when they heard the front door locks snapping open. Those who weren’t cot-bound moved to the living room, and Tanda burst in, super-pale eyes bright and face flushed.

“I’m ready,” she said breathlessly. She handed a paper bag to Marley, who’d come in quietly behind her. Marley took it and slipped into the kitchen while Tanda met the rest of them in the sitting area.

“We don’t have time to set everything up right,” Nick said. “We’re doing this the down-and-dirty way.” He dragged the side chair closer to the sofa while Sam and Riley lifted the coffee table and moved it across the room. At Nick and Quinn’s direction, Tanda lay on the couch. After Quinn healed her damaged vessel, eliciting the same reaction Jennifer and Chloe had both had, Sam settled into the chair next to her, his stomach churning.

Relax. You’ll fuck it all up if you’re not relaxed.
This had to work. It was so close to being over. But what came after? He tipped his head back, and Riley, standing behind him, smiled encouragingly while she brushed his hair off his forehead.

“We’ll talk,” she said. “After.”

The tender promise in her eyes, deepened by conviction, gave him hope. He nodded at Quinn, who stood next to him and took his hand. She closed her eyes, and Sam tried not to tense.

The surge came so fast and hard he didn’t have time to react. Pure, silvery energy gushed into him as if being chased. Quinn yanked her hand back with a gasp as Sam flinched away from the burning touch of the rest of the power. Marley’s power.

“Now!” she yelled, and Sam grabbed onto Tanda. There was no ecstatic rush, no clawing pain, just a smooth glide of power into the other goddess.

“Quinn!” Nick shouted.

Sam turned back in time to see Nick catch his collapsing fiancée. She shuddered with suppressed convulsions.

“What the hell?” Nick’s voice was high with panic. “What do I do?”

Sam lurched out of the chair and crouched over Quinn. “Give it to me, Quinn.” He used the soothing, implacable voice of her old assistant, the voice he’d used to get her to rest, to stall clients who’d take everything she could give and more. “I can handle it.”

Liar
.

He ignored the voice in his head that was now strictly his own, and captured Quinn’s hand in both of his. He reached for the power but had no ability to take it. Quinn had to give it to him.

“I won’t do that to you,” Quinn groaned, her jaw clenched so tight they could barely understand the words. She tried to pull her hand away, but Sam held on.

“You have to. You’ll die.” His voice broke. An echo of the sound made him look up, and his gaze locked with Riley’s. The longing and despair there took his breath away, but he didn’t know how to fix it. “Riley,” he whispered.

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