Red Queen (32 page)

“Fear can help keep you alert,” Cleo said. “But know that
they're not invincible. They should have anticipated that Lara would resent having her mother taken away. They made a mistake when they didn't abduct both of you. I believe that single mistake will lead to their ruin.”

I forced a laugh. “Hell, they can make up for it in a hurry. They can kidnap me tonight.”

“That's another reason Russell is going with you,” Kendor said. “He'll help with your security.”

“Can you come tonight?” I asked him.

“The Lapras are too afraid of me,” Kendor said.

“But I'm heading into their stronghold,” I said.

“Russell can summon us, if need be,” Kendor said.

“So you'll cover my back?” I asked.

“Only in an emergency,” Kendor said.

Cleo shook her head briskly as if she wanted to halt my line of questioning. “We have to move carefully. If we marshal our power and attempt a frontal assault, they'll kill Lara rather than let us have her.”

“In other words,” Kendor said, speaking to Cleo and not me, “our power is not our strength. We must rely on our patience.”

Cleo met his fierce gaze. “Patience and wisdom,” she told him before turning her back to him and taking my hand. “The future is always in flux. All we know is the unexpected will happen tonight. There's a good chance it won't be pleasant. For the same reason we want you to meet with them—to gain
knowledge—they want to meet with you. They suspect you're in contact with us. You'll deny that, of course, but they'll know you're lying. It doesn't matter. It's their hope that through you they'll discover what we know.”

“But you don't seem to know anything,” I protested.

Cleo squeezed my hand and I was suddenly reminded of how my father said she could see in both worlds at the same time. “I'm glad you feel that way,” she said, a mischievous note in her voice. “It means this meeting has been a success.”

AT MIDNIGHT, RUSSELL AND I
stood outside the entrance of the Mirage as per the Lapras' instructions. There were more people coming and going than there would have been in the real world. But their pace was markedly slower, more guarded, as if they were afraid to move too fast lest they call attention to themselves. That was one thing I had noticed about most people in witch world. They were scared.

For that matter, so was Russell, although he had good reason to be. We both did. But he tried putting up a brave front for my sake. He asked what I thought of the Council.

“Very impressive,” I replied honestly.

He nodded. “Ain't that the truth. Especially that Cleo. You might be surprised, but even after all these years, I don't know how old she is.”

“My father said she's more than seven thousand years old.”

“He's just guessing based on things she's said about helping build the pyramids not long after she gained her powers. But the truth is, no one knows how old
they
are, especially the Great Pyramid. From hints Cleo's dropped, it appears Egypt went through three major dynasties. And she said the oldest was the most advanced.” He added, “Cleo said there were many witches alive at that time.”

“Where did they all go?”

“I don't know, she's never told us.”

“Were they killed?”

“Can you imagine trying to kill someone like Cleo?”

“I see what you mean,” I replied. “Kendor's amazing.”

“In a fight, there's no one I'd rather have by my side. He knows every ancient system of fighting, and all modern methods. Not long ago he posed as a Navy SEAL and learned how to operate America's most advanced weapon systems.”

“Somehow I can't see him needing a gun.”

“I hear ya.” Russell tapped his head. “I saw him in action during the Civil War. During Sherman's brutal march to the sea, after his army burned Atlanta, a platoon of Union soldiers was raping and pillaging a small town. Alone, with only a sword, Kendor killed every single one of those men.”

“My father said the Council supported the Union.”

“They did. But Kendor has no tolerance for rapists. To him they're animals, he kills them.” Russell added, “Cleo's the only one who can control him.”

“I didn't mean to insult you when I asked if he could come with us tonight.”

“Are you kidding? I wish he were here.”

I checked my watch. “They're late.”

“They're probably scanning the area, trying to discover if you have Council security in place.”

“Will they be able to tell?”

“Unlikely. But there's one thing I want to warn you about. You made it a condition that they have Lara with them before you'd get in their car. You're going to have to drop that demand. She won't be with them. They'd never risk bringing her out in the open like this.”

“But they will let me see her tonight, won't they?”

Russell nodded. “That's one point you must insist upon.”

“What if they try to keep me prisoner?”

“Let's hope it doesn't come to that,” he said.

“What if they torture me? You know, I just graduated high school, I'm not psychologically prepared to have my fingernails slowly ripped from my hands.”

Russell patted me on the back. “Remember, they know how to think long-term. They want your cooperation. Like Cleo said, they'd be foolish to use violence so early in the game.”

A black limousine pulled up fifteen minutes later. A seven-foot-tall, powerfully built black man emerged and nodded in our direction. He didn't have to speak for me to know it was
Frank, who had sounded like a giant on the phone. He wore a rich dark suit, a red shirt, and a dark tie. His shoulders were as broad as an NFL lineman's, and he had huge, blunt hands, and a massive bald head. He appeared to be forty, although he could have been centuries old for all I knew. He was coarsely handsome, and I had no doubt he had inherited the strength gene.

He raised his arm. “Jessica, Russell, come.”

We climbed in the back of the limo; Frank joined us. There were just the three of us, along with a driver separated by a plate of soundproof glass. The limo turned onto the Strip, for a moment, before it veered onto a side street. Frank sat across from us, his expression serious. Everything about him was oversize. He spoke to Russell.

“Any problems?” he asked.

“I didn't see anyone,” Russell said, talking about the Tar. “It makes me wonder.”

Frank treated Russell's concerns with respect. “How so?”

“They may be preparing to attack,” Russell said.

“What are you guys talking about?” I asked, pretending to be ignorant.

Frank stared at me. “Security matters. We'll explain more later. I must say, Jessica, you're much more beautiful in person.”

I met his hard gaze. “As opposed to what?”

“Feisty, too. Russell warned me you can be a handful.”

“Only when I'm lied to. And you've already lied to me
once. Where's my daughter? She's supposed to be here.”

“We're going to see her right now,” Frank said.

“You didn't answer my question.”

“For her protection,” Frank said, “we're keeping her out of sight for the time being. But you'll see her soon, I promise.”

“Good,” I said.

The tint on the windows was so dark that once we left the Strip behind, I couldn't identify any of the roads we took. We were moving in a long, lazy pattern, one designed to reveal any pursuers. Frank took out his cell and shot off a series of texts. Russell stared straight ahead, ignoring me. Conversation didn't seem a priority with the Lapras.

Twenty minutes went by; it felt much longer. Eventually I saw we were in the desert, on a narrow asphalt road. Suddenly we turned onto a dirt path and I felt the front wheels sink beneath us. A gap had opened up in the path and in the blink of an eye we were heading down a steep ramp. I caught a glimpse of a garage door opening and closing.

We had entered a long, straight tunnel. Had our headlights failed, we would have been marooned. It was like a hole that had been dug on the dark side of the moon. We drove another fifteen minutes at seventy miles an hour before we stopped.

All in the dark. All underground.

Climbing out of the limo, I saw that the tunnel continued in both directions. The air was damp, the omnipresent
silence unnerving. A nondescript door stood before us. We went inside, walked down a white corridor, and went through another plain door.

Suddenly everything changed.

We were in a room as lovely as the one where I had met the Council, only the furniture was distinctly modern and there was no floor above us. There was, however, a wide, circular floor space, totally black, that looked as if it could have been used to teach dance. It didn't fit with the rest of the living area and I wondered what it was for.

The living room, if it could be called that, was replete with glass and leather, its color scheme dominated with gray, black, and white. Even without windows the room felt expansive. The dome ceiling helped, as did the half-dozen vases of flowers spread atop a piano and numerous end tables.

Yet the modern feel didn't translate into a warm one. The space felt as if it was lived in, but I had to wonder at the minds of its occupants. My heart skipped the instant we entered and I felt a dull pressure on my forehead. It was as if my physical body sensed the bad vibes.

To my surprise, Frank told us to make ourselves comfortable and left. Russell and I sat on the sofa and didn't speak. He had given me a look that said we were being watched. Minutes later the door opened and a woman walked in.

Dr. Susan Wheeler. From the morgue.

I gasped, although what I really wanted to do was vomit.
She was dressed in a doctor's plain blue scrubs, as if she had just come from the hospital. At least her outfit appeared fresh—there were no bloodstains on it.

Her smooth mocha skin had not changed, nor her dark brown hair. But unlike last time, she didn't have on a cap and I saw her hair reached all the way to her waist. It was her trophy—it glistened in the light of a nearby lamp. Her dark eyes were as unfathomable as ever, but they didn't shine like her hair. It seemed that whatever light entered Susan Wheeler was not allowed to leave.

Still, she was beautiful.

Most men would have found her irresistible.

“I trust you remember me,” she said as she casually took a seat across from us. She wore white Puma cross-trainers. They looked brand-new. The way she carried herself spoke of someone who was incredibly fit. Who was I fooling? She probably had the strength of fifty men.

I had to calm myself before I could speak. “You're the one who tried to dissect me at the hospital,” I said.

“You mean I was the coroner who was assigned to perform your postmortem.”

“You knew from the start I was alive!”

Susan shrugged. “I played on your fears. That was a gift. I was trying to kick-start your healing ability. You have to admit I was successful.”

“I'm grateful,” I said sarcastically.

“You're welcome.”

I acted impatient. “Frank told me I was going to meet with the leadership of your organization.”

“Yes.”

“Where are they?”

“Sitting in front of you.”

“You?”

“I'm the president of the Lapra Order.”

I cast Russell a glance. He didn't bother to hide his surprise. It was clear he'd never met the woman before and that worried me. Here he was supposed to be close to their inner circle and he didn't even know their leader?

“Are you the one who took Lara from me?” I asked.

“I am.”

She made the admission without hesitation. She wanted me to know how powerful she was. It was possible she was stronger than Cleo. Yet it was hard to imagine she was the source of the strange time-space distortions that had rendered the Council's protection useless. She nodded as if reading my mind.

“I rule the Lapras because no one can rule me. We're a purely hierarchical society. The greater one's power, the higher one is allowed to rise in our organization. That's important—should you choose to remain with us—because you have a large number of witch genes and can eventually occupy an important position.”

“So in your group ‘might is right,' ” I said.

“As it is in nature, so it is with us.”

“Try telling that to the dinosaurs.”

“They ruled the earth for millions of years. I'd be surprised if humanity lasts that long.”

“You think we'll destroy ourselves?”

“Yes. Or a superior race will come along and do the job for us. Life is a temporary condition. Death is our ultimate destiny.”

“You're a cheery character.”

“I'm a realist.”

“If everything is ultimately hopeless, then why did you bother stealing my daughter?” I demanded.

Susan didn't blink much, nor show much emotion of any kind. There was a mechanical quality to her tone and choice of words.

“I was curious about her,” she said. “What she can do. What she might grow into. That's the scientist in me. Lara's something new and different. That makes her interesting.”

“You talk about her like she's a specimen.”

“Compared to her, we may all be specimens. It's interesting to see what powers she's begun to develop, even as an infant.”

I paused. “Has she demonstrated unusual abilities?”

“Spend time with her and you'll see for yourself.”

I didn't bother to hide my annoyance. “I shouldn't have to ask your permission to see her. When she was a few days old,
you stole her from me in the middle of the night. And the only reason you're talking with me now is because you're having trouble managing her.”

Susan studied me. “Who told you these things?”