The Wild Road (22 page)

Lannes made himself breathe. “Find Ed.”

Without waiting to see if Koni agreed, he started walking across the parking lot toward Lethe. Footsteps scuffed, and a strong hand grabbed his arm.

“Wait,” Koni said, “there’s something else. About her.”

Rictor appeared from the shadows behind the car, utterly silent. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Lannes asked, his voice dangerously quiet.

“Don’t,” Rictor said again, staring at Koni. “You’ll cause trouble.”

Lannes grabbed the shape-shifter’s arm and twisted it away. “Talk, or don’t. But make up your mind.”

Koni suddenly looked as though he wished he had kept his mouth shut. Lannes wished the same thing.

“Your lady friend,” said Koni slowly. “Before she lost her memories, she knew a woman, one of us. Kit Bell. Kit can see when people are going to be murdered. She foresaw Alice’s death.”

Disbelief was the first thing Lannes felt, and then gut-wrenching horror. He stopped breathing. “How?”

“You don’t-”

He slammed Koni against the car. “Tell me.”

Rictor stepped close, gaze hooded, his mouth set in a hard line. But he did not intervene.

Koni’s eyes flashed golden. “Stabbed. A knife in the eye.”

Lannes let him go and spun away. He took several steps, stopped and could go no further. “When?”

“Don’t know. Could be tomorrow, or fifty years from now.” Koni’s voice was soft, ragged. “But it’ll happen. Far as we know, Kit is never wrong.”

She will be wrong, Lannes thought desperately. She will be wrong this time.

He fought to pull himself together. He thought of Lethe-Lethe, feeling his emotions-and tried to put a wall between his heart and the bond they shared.

“I don’t know you,” Lannes growled at Koni. “I don’t know this Kit. I sure as hell don’t know why you told me this.” He leaned in, holding the shape-shifter’s gaze. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re wrong. And I will not tell her. I will not frighten her. And neither will you.”

Lannes held the shape-shifter’s gaze for a moment longer, then started walking again toward Lethe. His wings stretched, catching the breeze, and his body tugged backward, aching to fly. Just one good leap was all it would take, but he kept his feet firmly on the ground.

She turned to face him. Alice. Lethe.

It will never last, he told himself. After she finds out who she is, she will either go back to that life or start a new one. And just because she likes you now will mean nothing in the long term. She has no conception of what you are, and even if she had, even if she accepted you, hearts change. If you put too much weight on what you have with her, it will break.

Talking himself out of things before they even happened? His brothers would call him an idiot. Frederick would, as well.

But he could not help himself. He had avoided, by accident and personal choice, most involvement with women, human or gargoyle. Humans, for all the obvious reasons. Gargoyle females, because there were so few, and most of them had used him, during brief courtships, as a means of getting to his brothers, Magnus and Arthur-both of whom were far more powerful than Lannes or Charlie.

So, all these years and he had forced himself to be cold. It was safer that way, easier. Problem was, Lannes could not control his heart. Not with her. Not Lethe. And he realized now that he did not know how to care about someone in any other way except all the way. All or nothing. He had too few friends to be cheap with his heart.

And Lethe…was more than a friend.

Even if her family can never be allowed to know you exist.

Lethe did not smile when he joined her at the water’s edge. “You’ve escaped the male bonding. Any scars to show for it?” she asked.

“I don’t scar easily.”

“Lucky,” she whispered, and leaned against him, hugging his arm. He felt her loneliness, her need for him-her need just for him-and his heart fell apart a little. And then it stitched itself together, encasing bits and pieces of her mind inside his soul. Making her part of him. Permanently. He could not help himself. If the link was lost, and he supposed it might be, one day, he would still feel her. Always.

For good or ill.

“Lannes,” she said, “I have a stupid question.”

“Okay,” he said.

She turned, facing him. “Was I a good person before?”

Lannes dug his claws into his palms. “I believe you were.”

“You don’t seem too sure.” She glanced across the parking lot. “Those two don’t trust me.”

“They’re cautious with strangers.”

A faint bitter smile tugged at her mouth. “They work for a detective agency, right? Same as your brother, who, I presume, is also a gargoyle?”

“True,” he said, reluctantly.

“Which means that Rictor and Koni must know what he is.”

Lannes said nothing, and she drummed her fingers against her leg. “Which means they don’t care. Which also means they are very understanding… or they’re just as different as you.”

“I don’t know much about my brother’s work,” Lannes finally said.

“You know enough. But really, a detective agency? It seems…odd.”

“It’s called Dirk & Steele.”

“Or like a porn movie.”

“They do good work. I think.”

“And they’re all… psychic?”

He shrugged. “I suppose the rest of the world thinks they’re normal. But having the label of detective or bodyguard, even mercenary, allows them to use their gifts in ways that don’t…draw attention.”

“Like you, hiding in plain sight.” She looked once again at the Humvee. Koni and Rictor were nowhere in sight. “I’m not a stranger to them, am I? And if they don’t trust me… I suppose I can guess what that means.”

“It’s not like that. If you want to know-”

“Not yet.” But she chewed her bottom lip, indecision flickering across her face. “Do I have children? A… husband?”

“I don’t know,” he said, feeling as though his heart were plunging onto a bed of knives. “But as for the rest, good or bad… all I can judge is the woman you are now. Nothing else matters.”

She nodded tightly, but her unhappiness made him miserable. “And I suppose you don’t hold hands with people you don’t like.”

“I would suppose you’re right,” he said gently, taking her hand in his.

“Well,” she said, “then do something for me. Please.”

“Lethe-”

“Stop me,” she whispered. “If you get a hint that I’m…losing my mind to the thing inside me… do something. Knock me out. Tie me up. Don’t wait, or second-guess. Just…stop me.”

“I don’t know if I can,” Lannes said. “I haven’t had much luck.”

Lethe smiled bitterly. “I don’t want to die. I don’t want to be murdered by some old man with a grudge who’s poking around people’s brains. But I don’t want to kill, Lannes. I don’t want to kill, and that’s more important to me than staying alive.”

Lannes did not know how to reassure her. He was uncertain he could help, but the fear and dread that hummed around her presence was so acute that he could taste it as though it were his own sin to commit. Murder. Violation.

He pulled her close, wrapping his wings around her body. She pressed her forehead against his chest and felt very small, very fragile. He thought of what Koni had said, that someone had foreseen her murder, and the fear that filled him was crushing. He pushed it aside, though. No time. And it was not going to happen.

He kissed her palm. When he let go, she placed it above his heart, and the warmth that spread between them was so overwhelming that he wanted to kiss her until she begged him to stop.

“I’d like that,” she whispered.

Lannes fought to control himself. “You know I’m not human.”

“Yes,” she said dryly. “You’re worried what I’ll think of you.”

“It’s a concern.”

“Were you burned once?”

“I never let myself get close enough to be burned.”

“What about your own kind? Women, females.”

“I’ve…known some of them,” he said awkwardly. “But they mature faster than us, and I was always a bit…bookish.”

Lethe laughed quietly. “You’re a nerd.”

He bit back a grin. “You could say that.”

She continued to laugh, but it was filled with delight. “And what? What made the others more attractive?”

“You’d have to ask them,” he said, and held her hand against his chest like it was all that was keeping his heart beating.

Lethe stood on her toes. “Kiss me.”

He could not help but tease, mostly to cover his overwhelming emotion at hearing her say those two words. “I suppose that means you liked it before?”

“Kiss me,” she repeated, her smile fading. “Lannes.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her up tight against his body, her feet dangling below his knees. Her scent filled him, clean and warm as a summer day, and he savored, with a great deal of heartache and wonder, the desire she felt for him.

For him.

He kissed her, which felt no different than plunging one thousand feet off a cliff in the Himalayas. She stole his breath in exactly the same way-in a rush-his blood tingling and his body aching in all the right ways. She wrapped her legs around his hips and gasped as he jerked against her, just once, and the sound of her pleasure, the sensation of it rolling through his mind, was so overwhelming it was all he could do not to drag her into the bushes and bury himself in her body. He had never felt such arousal-never allowed himself to indulge this far, this long-and it made him blind and deaf to everything but her.

Which was probably why he did not hear the rumble of an approaching engine. Or Koni’s hiss of warning. He heard nothing until it was too late.

A police cruiser rolled into the parking lot.

A police officer got out of the brown sedan. He did so carefully, with one hand on his weapon and another holding a Mag-Lite, which he shone from Koni-who stood by the Humvee-over to Lannes and Lethe. Rictor was nowhere in sight.

“All right, everyone,” said the officer, his voice sounding young and nervous. “Over to one side, please, and keep your hands in front of you.”

They did as he asked. No bullets had been fired yet, which was some consolation. The officer looked as young as his voice, had clean-cut good looks and short brown hair. His uniform looked immaculate, and his eyes were intelligent. And wary.

“What,” he asked slowly, “are the three of you doing here at this time of night?”

“Actually,” said Lethe, trying to sound very feminine and very reasonable, “we were just out for a drive. It’s a nice night.”

“Your plates are out-of-state,” he said. “Maine. Illinois.”

“We’re staying at the West Baden dome,” Lannes said, his tension rolling keen and fine through her mind. “Tourists.”

“Old friends,” Koni said.

The officer did not look entirely reassured. “Licenses and registration. I’ll want to check your cars, too.”

The blood in the Impala. Shit.

But something happened. The officer shone his light over her face a second time, and the beam stayed there, flicking down an inch so it would not blind her. He stared, as though wheels were turning in his head, and his focus was suddenly so overwhelming that she thought her heart would pound a hole through her chest.

“Alice Hardon,” said the officer. “My God.”

The name sent something cold and serpentine slithering down her spine, a sensation not improved upon by the rolling wave of alarm that pushed from Lannes into her mind like a tsunami crushing the shore.

“Alice,” the cop said again, some of his excitement fading at her silence. “Ms. Hardon. Is that your name?”

“Yes,” Koni said smoothly. “I think she’s just surprised you knew it, too.”

Lethe’s knees almost buckled. Her name was Alice Hardon. But hearing it gave her no pleasure. In fact, it made her want to run far, hands clapped over her ears. She wished she had never heard the damn thing.

Maybe her distress showed; the officer tensed, shining his light again on the two men.

“Ms. Hardon,” he said carefully. “Do you know these guys? Are they friends?”

“Yes,” she said, forcing herself to focus. “What’s wrong? Why do you know who I am?”

The officer did not relax. “You’ve been missing for three days, but the search only began this morning. Your family alerted our local station and said you had been down in this area, so we started asking around. I was at the hotel an hour ago. They said someone fitting your description had been around.”

“I was on a road trip,” she said, fighting for words. “I lost my cell phone. I didn’t think anyone would declare me missing.”

The policeman still looked at Lannes and Koni. “You sure you’re okay?”

This time she found it easier to put a smile on her face. “Positive.”

“Okay, then.” The officer took a step back toward his car, which was crackling with radio chatter. “If you don’t mind, ma’am, I’d like all of you to come to the station with me. I need to let people know they can call off the search. And you should call your parents.”

Parents. Family. She felt dizzy. Terror clawed up her throat.

No, she thought. No.

Lannes swayed toward her, the edge of his wing brushing her arm. “I don’t suppose she could make her calls from the hotel, could she? You can call off the search, but as far as letting her family know… the hotel would be more private.”

“I’m sorry,” the officer said, still moving backward toward his car. “I need to call this in.”

At the back of her mind, the anchor stirred. That voice. Runa.

The dead woman’s presence poured up from the abyss of Lethe’s lost memories like a flower blooming in fast motion, filling her, but this time not in complete control.

Do it, Runa said. Stop him.

No, Lethe replied. I won’t hurt him.

No, the voice explained. Like this.

And then Runa did take control, but only just, and before Lethe could resist she felt herself plunge into the police officer’s mind and rip out his memories.

She didn’t take all of them, just the past ten minutes. It felt like scraping a spoon along the inside of an avocado to dig out the flesh, and it was the most horrifying, damning thing she could have imagined doing to anyone. But in less than three seconds the deed was done. And the officer was down on the ground, alive but unconscious.

Lethe collapsed to her knees, digging her fists into the concrete. She scraped them so hard her knuckles bled, but she did not mind the pain. She wanted the pain.

There, said Runa. You see how it’s done. Again.

Go to hell, snarled Lethe. Fuck you.

I know what you are planning. That you wish to kill me, or break us apart. Do as you wish, but you will not harm me. You cannot. Not until we are done.

Lethe screamed at her, except she was suddenly not screaming in her mind, but with her voice, and Lannes was there, holding her tight. Koni-and Rictor, who had reappeared-were placing the police officer into his sedan.

She could not breathe. Her heart was going to explode. She lay down on the parking lot, pressing her cheek into the cold concrete, sobbing. The sensation of tearing out those memories felt like poison in her brain. Like she was going to choke to death on them.

And for a moment-just one-she realized she could take out those memories. Her own memories.

Again, Runa had said.

Lannes dragged her into his arms. He stood, curling her tight against his chest, his wings draping over her body, and she clung like it was him or death.

“He has a camera in his car,” Lannes rumbled.

“Taking care of it,” Koni said.

Lethe felt herself carried some distance away, and then Lannes set her down just for a moment against the Impala. He opened the door. Helped her in. But she did not loosen her grip around his neck. She could not.

“I took his memories,” she whispered, hardly able to speak past the tears. “I took them. Of us.”

“I know,” he said heavily, kneeling outside the car. He brushed his lips against her brow, and then her lips. “She was inside your mind. I felt her take control.”

“Lannes,” she breathed, drowning in horror. “I think I did this to myself.”

His gaze was impossibly grim. Rictor appeared behind him. “We’re ready to go.”

Lannes did not look at him. “We’ll be right on your tail.”