Invasion of Justice (Shadows of Justice) (20 page)

"No," he grinned, ushering into an old style gated elevator. "I don't juice." He pressed the button for the eighth floor, though Petra had counted at least fourteen floors from her street view of the building. "I don't need to because my victims don't fight back." Again with that damned giggle.

"What did you give the scientist at the lab?"

"His own medicine!"
The giggle morphed into hideous hilarity and Petra shrank away from it.

The elevator stopped, he opened the gate and nudged her out. "I'll wait here. You have fun."

She glanced around the sterile white hallway and proceeded forward.

A thick, barrel-chested man with an unruly shock of white-blond hair stepped out in front of her. Leo
Kristoff, MD, PhD. "Petra, my girl, you've arrived! Oh, and it does my heart glad."

She held her tongue until she had a better read on him. His aura was a white of illness, spiked with vicious intent. It surrounded him so completely she was forced to consider it might be the reflection of the stark environment. Realizing her extra senses weren't affected, it unnerved her to see something so seriously wrong with this man. Was he for real?

"Oh, several people think so, dear."

When she stared at him in silence, he elaborated. "Several people think I am ill. Most of them come to know better, or come to know God!" His laughter was as deep as his pet killer's was shrill. She didn't want to know what defect caused them to find murder and mayhem so funny.

"No defect, I assure you. And it's not the killing I enjoy, so I contract that out."

Petra jerked a thumb over her shoulder toward the elevator. "My escort, the no-name murderer, took out officer Ferguson didn't he?"

"I'll trust you to know the names, but that job was different," he said with a shake of his head. "Tea?"

She silently refused, processing this detail.

"Anything?"

"You could get your contractor out of my head. He's got issues I'd rather not be forced to survey."

"You've become such a genteel and generous counselor." Kristoff smiled. "I can break the connection, if you're sure."

"I'm sure."

Kristoff acknowledged this with a slow nod, then walked to a silver hand bell under a crystal jar on a thoroughly modern black and stainless sideboard. "Simon, to give your friend a name, is a bit of a character. I thought you'd enjoy his company." He traced the curve of the glass with his fingertip.

"Not particularly."

"You felt what he felt, right? Isn't his perspective astounding?"

"Astounding?
Oh sure." Petra's gaze fixed on the bell, willing Kristoff to sound it and rid her of Simon. When he continued to stall, she knew she'd have to elaborate or continue to suffer. "I felt his pride, his anticipation, and his twisted sense of pleasure."

"This did not excite you?"

She held her tongue, certain he knew the truth and unwilling to confirm it.

"Ah. It did." He stepped closer and began to circle her. "The darkness of unacceptable urges calls to even the most virtuous of people. When a lovely girl like you has been pre-programmed to respond...well, there is indeed fresh beauty in discovering one's destiny." His circling complete, he faced her again.

She fumed and wished for all the world that she'd mastered a poker face. Or telekinesis. That would've been useful, but no, she could only empathize. Always feeling with or without purpose and feelings wouldn't get her out of here.

"Why did you choose my family for your experiments?" she blurted, knowing immediately that he wouldn't answer. Instead, he raised the bell and she heard and felt the sound in and out of her head. An involuntary response tingled through her bloodstream.

He smirked, watching his control over her. "Such a simple cue." He set the bell down. "Though for years I wasn't certain it would work."

"You can't make me a Simon. I've no desire to kill."

"Of course not. I don't need you in that capacity." He waved his hand dismissing her flawed theory. "Simon is a specialized weapon. My generalized team grows more dependent on the juice, more subservient to me. For you, the bell is merely a signal to open your mind to new possibilities."

"You sound like a demented villain from an old movie."

He leaned against the sideboard and Petra thought it fitting that he used heavy, metal furnishings. Anything less would've been too soft for such a hard man.

"I've an offer for you, dear. An offer you really cannot refuse, though I suspect you'll try." He came close again, this time taking her elbow and leading her toward the chairs beneath the tall windows.

Eight stories up, jumping might not help her, but it might kink up his plans. She didn't cast the idea aside, but she did continue to look for alternatives.

"Just listen to my offer. Thoughts of escape aren't necessary. I'll give you time to consider your options once you have all the facts."

That sounded way too easy.

"When your parents came to me, they were desperate for a child, as were most of my clients. I gave them their happiest dream.
A son." He leaned forward. "I gave them a gift as well. Their new son had extraordinary talents."

She frowned. Tell her something she didn't know.

"Ah. Sibling rivalry's been a bit of a thorn has it? All the better my offer will sound." He leaned back, crossing his legs as if they were discussing the weather during Sunday brunch.

"Your brother turned out stronger than even I anticipated. A fine young man, but I moved too late and his potential use to me was gone."

"Gee thanks. So nice to be second choice."

He surged forward again, nearly out of the chair this time, thumping his hands on his knees. "Oh, my girl, you're no one's second choice!" He reached toward her. "I need your precise skills. Astral flight can bypass any security system. That opens up a whole new definition of wealth. More important, with the right guidance you can learn to direct your flights, reaching back to reclaim wisdom long lost. Think of the possibilities, the fame."

He stood, arms gesturing wildly. "Can't you see it? Dr. Kristoff National Health Chair, the single most authority on all things beneficial. We could wipe out nasty smugglers. Eliminate hard-core drug runners. Find more natural cures. The world would be a better place."

She wasn't fool enough to believe this was his real story or purpose. "How will you go National with a warrant for your arrest hanging over your head?"

"Simon's already at work removing that obstacle. My men have gone to ground and, with no physical specimens to prove or disprove my research, the charges will drop and eventually the hubbub will die."

It sounded weak to her, but then, she wasn't insane with greed.

"Don't you remember your early years of training? Oh, I miss those days. You would race into my arms, eager to play our games."

She fought to stifle the memory he'd broken loose. When he touched her, stroking her hair, she lived it all again.

They had played cards, but she wasn't good at the guessing. He'd shown her pictures that made her laugh and cry in extremes. They'd shared ice cream–

"Wait! We never had ice cream," she said, disgusted. "Get out of my head."

"My dear girl, I don't believe I can. We are linked as indelibly as father and child. All I've done is show you the way home. Your future is here, with me. Your duty is to help my cause. To resist is weak, futile and honestly, quite beneath you."

Jumping from the window was becoming a more attractive solution by the minute.
"If I say no?"

"You'll have to outrun Simon. I can't let you live, knowing what you do."

Petra concentrated. What did she really know? Not enough to bring him in or relieve him from his post. "I assume you'll order me to sever all ties with my family."

His hand swatted at her concern. "They've never appreciated you. You can at least admit that much."

"They've worried and doted. They love me."

"But they don't see your true worth!"

She bit her tongue. Neither agreement nor argument would help anything here. He was insane and she didn't care if he could see her opinion in blazing neon across her forehead.

He squatted down before her, careful not to touch. "You're getting stronger with every flight, correct?"

She refused to answer.

"Who better to counsel you on these changes, than the man who put them into motion?"

He had a point there.

"Show me how far you've come. Try to see through Simon's eyes."

"I don't care for that particular view."

"Look anyway."

The cajoling tone was gone, she'd pushed his patience to the wall. This was an order she knew she must obey.

Simon watched a young woman and a small boy feasting on pizza in a corner booth. She could feel his excitement, the influx of pleasure in the hunt. She wanted to turn him away from the target, but instead she was being sucked into his darker desire and the urge to kill with him. He ran his fingers along the wicked curves of the
Keris. She felt the metal warm beneath his touch. Tonight was too soon. He was savoring, anticipating, knowing this job was so special to Dr. Leo.

Then the part of her she'd buried realized this must be
Lorine, the scientist, and niece of Kristoff, who'd outed her uncle as a fraud and threat to humanity.

"No!" She shouted it. "I won't be a part of this. Get him out of my head."

"I'll separate you when you agree to my terms. Not before."

Tears rolled freely down her face. "You can't possibly think watching him slay a child will make me comply with your outrageous demands."

Kristoff paused to look at her with such vivid scorn she had to suppress a shudder.

"Don't think to play me, child. I created you!"

"With all your omnipotence you surely know my answer," she sniped.

He smiled, slow and satisfied, revealing that her outburst convinced him she'd do anything to spare the child. "You win." She released an escalating growl of frustration for effect. "Let me put some things together. My parents will worry if I don't leave some explanation."

"I can handle nosy parents," he offered too quickly.

"I can make it so they won't snoop after me," Petra countered logically. "They are rather prominent in their circles. If they simply disappear there will be talk." She tried to gain at least one concession. "If they come to harm our agreement is void."

He waved a hand in dismissal. "Fine. You have forty-eight hours. If you're not here I'll send–"

She raised her palm in surrender. She didn't need to hear what would happen if she didn't show up. Conversation only made it harder to keep him thinking she was cowed enough to join him.

Somehow she managed to walk from Kristoff's presence to the elevator and get herself to the street level. Out of the building and into the night, she took a deep breath of freedom and quickly walled it up so that neither Simon nor Kristoff and his stupid bell could touch it.

She wandered for blocks, shivering, utterly alone in a city she didn't really know. Late traffic on Lakeshore was a remote hum on the night air in Jackson Park. She could head that way and get lost in whatever crowd she might find. With
Kristoff's lethal pet on her trail, that would only put more people in jeopardy. This was her one shot to prevent a crime. She couldn't blow it.

Thinking of Simon reminded her of
Lorine and her son. Petra whipped out her cell card and checked the recording. A moment before she could upload the file to Kincaid, she was knocked to the pavement.

"We'll take that," announced a cruel-sounding voice behind her.

"And whatever else you've got," a second, equally nasty, voice ordered.

Two men against her.
She shouldn't feel like laughing. Wouldn't it be something if she were killed before Simon or Kristoff could use her for their own purposes? But then Lorine's little boy would be another notch in Simon's belt. Not to mention whoever else might get in Kristoff's way.