Ibenus (Valducan series) (28 page)

Monsieur Daigneau, their unseen host that Master Turgen had bribed with a set of eighteenth century porcelain, had given them full run of the building until Allan was ready to leave. Doctor Laroux, the woman who had sawed off Allan's foot, was their only visitor. The woman's perpetual scowl could have been carved in stone. Whatever circumstances led her to being the personal physician to a Paris mobster had evidently left her wearing that eternal frown like a hideous scar. She came by every few hours to check on her patient and was never in the room without an escort armed with a holy weapon. The doctor never asked about the swords. Not asking questions probably came with the job.

"All right." Sam finger-massaged her forehead as she looked up with tired, dark-rimmed eyes. She rotated the laptop around so the screen faced the room. "It's ready."

Malcolm and Chaya quit their work and turned, neither of them sitting. Not willing to leave earshot of Allan's room, Victoria straightened for a better view.

Sam slid the cursor past footage of the knights setting up the first camera in the Ready Room. "Since we set up the cameras as motion controlled, it's real easy to mark when anything happened." The first camera went dark. Shortly after another window appeared, playing footage of the second camera being set up. Then the third, followed by the fourth, where Allan and Malcolm's teams split up. The screen was now divided into four quadrants.

"Okay," Sam said. "Just after fourteen hundred hours was the first radio silence. Ten minutes later, camera one flipped on." She clicked the slide bar and green appeared in the first quadrant. She clicked it again, expanding it until it filled the screen. A man in night vision goggles stood in the door. Despite his masked eyes, the familiar light-colored beard and narrow cheeks only verified what Victoria had already guessed.

"TommyD," she growled.

Malcolm nodded quietly, his jaw tight.

Chaya pointed at the screen. "There. Radio jammer at his belt."

They'd already guessed that, too. Once a jammer was in range of one repeater, the repeater merely boosted the jammed signal, creating a chain reaction for every radio on the network.

TommyD walked into the room, the eyestalk tubes of his goggles tracking around. He stepped off screen to where the lockers were, then returned, scanned the room again, and left through the north entrance he'd come from and down the east passage. A few minutes later, Victoria jumped as Schmidt's voice came through the speakers, breaking the silence.

"…should be there."

"So after Mal swaps camera one," Sam continued, fast forwarding, "we have some time before the next silence. Shortly after that, he comes back into the staging area."

As she said it, camera one came back on and TommyD wandered past. Two minutes after leaving the frame, the camera flipped off.

"Okay." Sam fiddled with the slide bar. "This is where it gets interesting. Camera two flips on as TommyD comes into view. Shortly after that, Gerhard and Allan set off four. They're headed toward each other. Allan and Gerhard made it to three first. TommyD sets off two again, a minute before Allan and Gerhard arrive."

"He was right in front of them," Malcolm said. "He must have seen their lights ahead and just stayed out of their range."

"Yeah," Sam said. "He was back in the staging area less than two minutes before them. I'm guessing he was hiding just behind that wall when they were in there and turned off his jammer while Allan was fiddling with the repeater. After Allan left, he just waited, then turned it back on."

On the screen, TommyD stepped back into the room. In the night vision, the laser appeared as an unbroken tether joining Gerhard to the pistol.

Anger mounted into disgusted rage as Victoria watched tragedy unfold, its conclusion already known. She looked away just as the back of Gerhard's helmet exploded in an arc of blood and brains.

"How the hell did he find us?" Chaya asked, as TommyD rifled through Gerhard's body. "There's no way he just
happened along
."

Victoria's mind flashed to her phone, her computer. Was TommyD tracking her somehow? No. Her mobile they'd left at the chateau. Standard procedure to keep off GPS tracking since her name was linked to it. The computer maybe, but the Order had some serious scans in place for such things.

"He had to have seen the vans," Malcolm said.

Chaya shook her head. "We replaced the van he'd seen."

Victoria nodded. On the screen TommyD stood as Allan crawled into the room. "He might have been watching entrances. Noting which ones we'd likely use." Same trick she'd used in Amiens. Watch for the hunters and they'll lead you there. Bloody stupid to have left the vehicles there. She should have known better.

She shied away as TommyD opened fire on Allan. She saw the first shot strike Allan's ankle the instant before he blinked, then the stumble, the loss of Ibenus, and the final, silent shootout. Finally, the screamers appeared, chasing TommyD off down the west passage from where he'd originally come. Allan's terrible fight with the screamers played out on the screen. The audio came back on, capturing their shouts and Allan's shots, his pleas for help. Then the mantismere came. Ibenus only a yard from his grasp. Allan hadn't stood a chance.

A screamer exploded out from the low entrance and Victoria scrambled out. She watched the scene play out, though more in her mind than the captured footage. The demon fire filled the screen, washing it out, as she dispatched the monster not fully realizing the implication at the time. She squeezed Ibenus' grip. He had known Allan's life as a hunter was finished the moment he'd allowed Victoria to blink? That was the deciding moment, the passing of the torch.

Malcolm traced his finger along the map on the table. "There's a manhole a hundred yards down here. He must have escaped there."

"How do you know TommyD escaped?" Victoria asked.

"The mantismere wasn't bloodied when it returned. If he saw the vehicles at the tunnel, that'd been the closest place he could have accessed the mine."

"We should still check it," Chaya said. "Maybe he didn't make it out. If not, Umatri might still be down there."

"Agreed." Malcolm glanced at his watch. "Doctor Laroux will be back in forty-five minutes to check Allan. We can go once she leaves." He looked to Victoria. "You okay if we leave you for a while?"

"As long as I can stay with Allan. But go. If Umatri is there, bring him back." Victoria stood and started toward Allan's room. She stopped, seeing him there, hoses running in his arms, the elevated stump, short tubes protruding from the rounded end where his foot should have been. She squeezed Ibenus, calming the despair. "If you find TommyD, even if he's dead, shoot him for me."

#

Allan awoke to clouds, soft and pale floating overhead a hundred miles away.
Where am I?
An odd sensation tinged his side as he shifted. Grunting, he blinked and the world slid into focus.

It was a ceiling. Splotchy blobs of water damage stained the white paint.
What is this?

"Allan?"

Then Victoria was there above him, her golden hair tussled and sticking out like she'd just woken up. Were they in bed together?

"Hey," he said, grinning. "You look like an angel." His words came out more slurred than he'd expected. They must have been drinking. He'd had the craziest dream about her and Ibenus.

Excited relief shone in her red-rimmed eyes. "He's awake!"

"Yeah, I'm awake." Allan turned his head to see the bags hanging above him, their clear tubes running down to his hand. Thick bandages bound his shoulder and bicep. Had there been an accident?

He scrunched his eyes trying to recall what had happened. He was in a room. Small. No decoration but a green plastic sheet draped along one wall.

Malcolm and Chaya came inside. He could see Sam back there behind them.

"Hey, brother," Malcolm said.

"Hey."

Malcolm extended his left hand, palm open. "Look at this."

Puzzled, Allan looked at the half-lidded eye tattooed on Malcolm's palm. "Why?"

"He's good." Malcolm lowered his hand.

"Did you just…" Why would he give him the test? Allan turned to Victoria. "Where are we?"

Victoria set Ibenus on his chest and placed his right hand onto it. "You were hurt, baby."

Baby? She knew better than to say that if front of the others. The Masters would have his ass if they found out.

"Allan," she said, her hand squeezing over his. "You were attacked."

"Attacked?" He looked down at the bandages over his arm and around his chest. "When?" The words were no sooner out his mouth than he remembered dragging himself across the floor, screamers closing in and Gerhard's dead eye, the other a bloody hole, staring up at the ceiling. "Gerhard?"

"He was killed." Malcolm said. "Shot."

Allan's mouth felt dry. Images flashed through his mind, lacking context or order like some half-remembered dream. A man in black goggles, doll-faces bugs swarming, a red laser beam slicing the darkness toward him, a pale mantismere diving, its mouth wide. "TommyD."

Victoria nodded.

"He shot me. I remember shooting, then…" He thought of his bandaged arm. How had he hurt that? "I was bitten?"

She squeezed his hand. "Yes. Yes, but you're okay now. The demon is dead. It's gone."

Allan nodded, recalling the fire now, its blue light flickering through half-closed eyelids. "You saved me."

Tears welled in her eyes. "Yes."

"You killed it." He remembered now. Blood pouring from his ankle, the tourniquet, the cold hopeless weight as the demon marked him. Victoria killed it with Ibenus. He felt the blood drain from his face. His head swam and a leaden weight settled in his stomach, threatening to drag him down.

"Yes," she said, the tears coming now. "I had to."

Allan tried to sit up, but Malcolm was there, his hand urging him back down. Allan pushed it away. If Victoria had killed the demon with Ibenus then that meant…

He froze, eyes locked on the white, rounded cast extending down his leg, ending a hand's length above his ankle. Gone. His foot was gone.

Allan stared, his mouth open. He heard voices but they sounded like they were underwater. His gaze lowered to Ibenus. Victoria was still holding his hand against her, but Allan could sense the absence of that love he'd always known. Not gone, not entirely, but diminished somehow. Ibenus had chosen another. He was no longer worthy.

Hands guided him down, returning him to his back.

"Ibenus," he muttered.

"He still loves you," Victoria sobbed. "We both do."

He
. Allan closed his eyes, his heart sinking. That single word sealed it.

"I'm sorry, Allan," Malcolm said. "This is my fault. I shouldn't have let you two go alone."

Allan nodded, not really listening. It was Mal's nature to assume responsibility. Allan squeezed Ibenus. His feeling toward it hadn't changed, but it wasn't the same. He felt as though he should cry but he couldn't.

Victoria's eyes were swollen, pleading for some affirmation. He needed to say something, something worthy of a knight.

"Ibenus is yours now. Take care of him."

Tears ran down the wet paths along her cheeks and she closed her eyes. "I will. I'll take care of you both."

A heavy silence fell, uncomfortable eyes averting.

"I know this is a lot to handle." Malcolm squeezed Allan's shoulder. "We'll head back home in the morning once the doctor checks you out. We have morphine if you need it."

Allan shook his head. He wasn't hurting. Then again, he was probably already on morphine. That'd explain why he was so itchy. "Where are we?"

"Paris. One of Master Turgen's clients set us up."

"I see. Did everyone else make it out?"

"Master Schmidt got banged up pretty bad coming after you. Controlled falls. Pretty much flew the entire way."

"Is he all right?"

"He says he is but…" Malcolm shook his head. "You know Schmidt."

"Yeah."

Malcolm scooted aside, allowing Chaya and Sam access to hug him and tell him how happy there were he was alive. But he didn't feel alive. He didn't feel much of anything. His gaze kept returning to Victoria who was still beside him, holding Ibenus in his hand. Something lingered beneath the grief and relief in her eyes and the corner of her mouth.

"I suppose I can't get on to you for carrying that PPK of yours," Chaya was saying.

Allan exhaled a weak laugh. "First time I ever shot it on a job."
My last job
, he thought, the grin falling away.

If Chaya sensed it, she didn't react. "Well, I have it. I'll get it cleaned up for you. Maybe give it a trigger job while I'm at it."

Allan nodded. If only he'd shot that bastard when he had the chance. He mentally replayed the fight, wondering how it might have gone had Allan only hit him.

"Let's give him some space," Malcolm said, patting Chaya's shoulder. He looked at Victoria. "You two probably want to be alone."

"Yeah," she said, her words barely audible. "Thank you."

Allan was still remembering the confrontation as the others wished him well and made their way toward the door. His eyes widened as his memory came back. "Wait."

Malcolm was already outside the door. He turned back. "Yes?"

"My name. TommyD knew my name."

The others just stared at him.

"Are you sure?"

"He called me Allan. He said he'd never met a knight before." Even if TommyD had overheard Gerhard use his name, when would they have said they were knights? A horrible realization unfolded in his mind. It wasn't chance that TommyD had gleaned Luc's name, not if he knew they were knights. Allan sat up. "He knows who we are!"

"How the hell would he know that?" Sam asked.

Victoria sucked a breath, her face pained. "I'm sorry, Allan. I'm so sorry."

"What?"

"I wanted to tell you. I should have told you before but I was afraid."

"Of what?" Allan asked. "What happened?"

"TommyD," she said. "I told him. I told him everything."

Allan blinked.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked, an edge to her voice. "What do you mean you told him everything?"