Touching Darkness (20 page)

He helped her out of the car. “Time for our date, sweetheart.”

N
icholas had been driving around Woodbridge all day, back and forth between the two lakes he'd found on the satellite map, feeling helplessness and frustration building to an explosion point. He had as much of a chance of finding her in the right place at the right time as hitting the lottery.

He kept trying to remote-view her but ran up against the same block. Why couldn't he see her now?

“Dammit!” He pounded the steering wheel. What good was having psychic abilities when he couldn't use them to help someone he cared about?

His phone rang. “Yeah?”

“It's Eric. Lucas got a storm. He saw a sign: MacArthur Street.”

“Did he see anything else?”

“It's not good. He saw her getting raped. He's passed out now. He usually comes around in about fifteen minutes, and I can ask him for more, but that's what we've got now.”

Nicholas focused only on the street, not Olivia. Thank God, something to go on. Except…there was no MacArthur anything in Woodbridge. He expanded his search and found it in Potomac. “MacArthur Boulevard runs along the Potomac River for miles, terminating down near Washington.” The north end was up near the estate.

“Yeah, but remember, Lucas said it was a lake.”

“I know, but I didn't see any lakes in that area. I'm going with the river. It's all I've got. Thanks, man.” He was especially grateful since Eric made it clear he saw Olivia as the enemy.

He threw the car into gear and tore out onto the road.

 

Olivia was in the middle of a nightmare. She recognized this. The man had his arm clamped around hers as he led her over a bridge that crossed a canal and down a wide path washed white in the moonlight.

Wake up.

“No, stay in the dream, Olivia.”

The voice lured her back to the depths of the dream. Just a dream. But something was very, very wrong. Why couldn't she wake up?

They walked for a couple of minutes, then he led her down a narrow path into the woods. She stumbled, but he never loosened his grip. He pulled her to a small clearing next to what looked like a lake, its surface glittering in the moonlight. She felt the cool air against her cheeks and the cracked ground beneath her bare feet. This felt so real. Real and…not. Just a dream.

He set down a duffel bag and pulled out several strips of material from his pocket.

“We're going to play a game called tie-up-and-tickle.”

He took her wrists and bound them together. She pulled away, or thought she had. Her body wasn't moving to her will, only to his.

“Good girl,” he said, as she held out her wrists.

The seductive way the accent wrapped around his words, the way it compelled her to obey, wound a tendril of panic through her.

He guided her to the ground and knelt over her, pinning her down. His hand cupped her breasts, and he let out a ragged sigh. Somewhere deep inside, repulsion rippled through her.

“We're going to make love, darlin', and you're going to touch me and suck me and let me do whatever I want with that beautiful body of yours. And then when we can't take anymore, we're going to go for a little swim.” His hand crept across her stomach. “You
can
swim, can't you?” He chuckled.

This isn't right. I need to wake up.

His mouth came down on hers, and his tongue probed inside. “Kiss me back.”

Her mouth moved robotically, even as something inside her shriveled in disgust. He stopped, and she saw his face hovering over her, his eyes narrowed. “Olivia, sink down into the dream. Sink deeper, deeper…”

She held on to a thread of resistance.

He pulled more material out of his pocket and stuffed it into her mouth. Then he wrapped a long piece around her head and tied it tight.

“On the just in case. Now, where were we? Oh, yeah.” He ran his hand along her inner thigh, moving closer to…

Wake…up…now!

She'd been unable to come out of the nightmare before, but she was stronger now. She fought her way out, clawing to consciousness. Her eyes blinked open. No bedroom! She was still in the nightmare, but awake. Not a dream. Sayre! He was on top of her, and beyond him was a canopy of leaves. Trees. The smell of earth and pines. The moon, barely visible. How had he gotten her to the woods? Oh, God, he was out. She gasped.

“Aw, man, now you've gone and spoiled it.”

She started fighting, wriggling, trying to push and finding her hands tied together. Her scream came out muffled.

He shook his head. “And we were about to have us some fun in a cooperative kind of way. Tsk, tsk.” He reached behind her and started tugging down her pajama bottoms. She kicked, but he patiently kept working on them. “Now it's gonna have to be wham-bam, kill you, ma'am.” He
shook his head in disappointment. “And I was really looking forward to spending some quality time with you.”

She pushed, kneed him in the groin. He rolled away, spitting out expletives. She jumped to her feet, fighting to gain her balance with her hands tied. He came up behind her, his hands around her throat and threw her to the ground. He leaned close, his breath warm against her cheek. His fingers tightened against her throat. Like the nightmare. “Once you lose consciousness the first time, I bet you'll cooperate.”

And he pressed.

 

The only person you can trust is yourself
. Nicholas pulled off the road and looked at the map again. What did his instincts say?

Look.

Well, that's what he was doing.

He could keep driving MacArthur Boulevard and look for…what? He didn't even know what the psychopath who had her drove. From what he could see of the map, the entire road was bordered by woods and then the river.

No,
look
.

Remote-view. But he'd tried that. He shoved the map onto the seat.
Stay calm. Getting upset only hampers your skills
. He felt anything but calm. His chest hurt, every muscle was rock hard, and his hands were clenched into fists.

He took a deep breath and tried to zero in on her. He hit the block again. As he rocked his head back and forth in frustration, a thought shook loose:
remote-view the area, not her.

He had done that for Darkwell, learned how to remote-view from above, where the Rogues weren't able to sense him. Even in the dark, he could see details.

He yanked the map in front of him and stared at the path the road traveled. The map shook in his hands. He took several calming breaths, aware of every second ticking away.
Aware of those sketches in the backseat, of what might be happening to Olivia right now.

Focus.

He closed his eyes and imagined the road as his target. In a few moments he hovered above it. As though he were flying, he started moving north from where he was, looking down. The trees, though, hid anyone who might be in the woods.

Find a car, then, parked in some odd place, maybe tucked in to the woods off the side of the road.

Traffic was light. Was she in any of those cars? He kept searching for anything out of the ordinary.

What he found was a lake.

Not exactly a lake. A small creek spun off from the main river and spilled into what looked like a lake. It then became small again as it remerged with the river.

It looked like a lake. That was what mattered. He pulled back onto the road, punched the gas pedal, and raced to the end.

He found a park entrance. The cones blocking traffic were thrown to the side. He tore into the parking area, empty except for a blue BMW parked next to the closed concession stand. He threw his car into park, jumped out, and as he was about to close the door, saw the knife.

Anger and fear raged inside him. He closed the door and followed the path, listening for any sound that didn't belong there. Soon he came to a bridge that crossed a narrow canal. His heart picked up its pace even more, and he turned to the right.
Please don't let me be too late.

He ran to a platform that looked out over a larger body of dark water—the lake. He searched it and the perimeter for movement. Was she already at the bottom?
No, don't even think it.

He wanted to shout her name but couldn't give himself away. The element of surprise would be crucial.

He spun around at a sound to his right, senses alert. Quiet now. He stared into the variable shadows of the
woods. The sound came again, like an animal digging in the dirt. A grunt.

He gripped the knife in his hand and raced toward it. A path led into the woods. Next to the water's edge, in a small opening, he saw two people on the ground. He might scare the hell out of two lovers. Small price to pay.

The woman made a sound again as he approached. A sound of terror. Desperation. The man was straddling her, pinning her to the ground. Nicholas raised the knife. He couldn't tell if it was Olivia, but his heart boomed in his ears and felt like it would explode.

A twig broke beneath his shoe. The man's head snapped up. The woman tried to scream, but her voice was muffled. In the shafts of moonlight, Nicholas saw something tied over her mouth.

The man sprang to his feet, and in that second Nicholas saw his face.
Lucas.
“You're gonna regret being a hero.” Lucas's face. Not his voice.

In that second of hesitation, the man rushed him. He saw the flash of a knife. He pushed the man away and felt the knife slice his arm.

Get to Olivia, make sure she's all right.

The man came at him again, and this time Nicholas was ready. He rammed his elbow into his face. The man's knee came up and slammed into Nicholas's balls. Pain wracked him, forcing him to bend forward. He dropped his knife.

Push past it.

The other guy's knife came down. Nicholas grabbed his wrists. They were face-to-face, force against force. He couldn't lose. Olivia's life depended on it. She was still alive. Her quick, panting breaths were filled with fear.

The man tried to knee him again, but Nicholas twisted out of the way. Blood trickled down his arm, and the pain seared down the line of the cut. Both men grunted with exertion.

The guy spun around, nearly snapping Nicholas's arm until he had to let go. He lifted the knife. Nicholas spun out
of the way. But he wasn't aiming at Nicholas; he plunged the knife down where Olivia was.

“Noooo!” The word tore from his throat.

Still bent, he rammed the guy, sending him to the ground on the other side of Olivia. He landed on him, their bodies colliding. Nicholas tried to get in a punch, but the guy rolled them over and threw his fist into Nicholas's chin. Stunned, he couldn't gather his wits to respond fast enough. The guy pounded him again and again, quick as a striking rattlesnake. Nicholas lifted his hands to ward off the blows. Darkness throbbed in and out of his vision.

The guy leapt up, reached down next to Olivia, and ran off into the night.
Olivia.
Nicholas couldn't speak. A wall as black as the abyss swept in.
Need to get to her. To help…

The physical agony was nothing compared to what he felt inside. He had come so close and failed.

T
he sound pulled Nicholas from the depths of darkness into pain and consciousness. Sobbing. He was crying…. because Olivia was dead. Oh, God…dead. How long had he been out? He tried to pull his thoughts together under the onslaught of vicious memories.

He winced from the pain that ripped through him. Pain beyond his aching balls and the slice down his arm and bruises on his face. Emotional pain tore him to shreds from the inside out.

Except
he
wasn't crying.

His eyes snapped open. It was a woman's cries.
Olivia!
He rolled to his side, the movement excruciating. She was trying to crawl to him, her hands still bound. Her tears glittered in the silvery light.

“Don't move,” he said.

He couldn't believe she was moving at all. Where had the son of a bitch stabbed her? She mumbled something. He crawled over to her, shoving the gag from her mouth. She spit out more material, and he pulled it out. He held her face. “Don't move. I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner.”

“You got here soon enough. Get my hands free.”

He patted the ground, looking for his knife. He felt the cold metal and found the handle. He gently took her arms
and held them in the shaft of moonlight so he could see better. Damn, he wished she'd stop shaking for a second. He didn't want to cut her. He clamped her arms in his hand and pulled the knife up to cut the material.

“I've got to get you to the hospital,” he said.

“No, he didn't…he didn't rape me.”

“But he stabbed you.”

She shook her head, running her hand over her body. Her dark pajamas were askew, the bottoms pulled low on her hips. Without thinking, he ran his hands over her, too. “I can't tell if there's blood.”

“These are dark red. But I'd feel it.”

His hand felt her bare stomach, the smooth skin free of sticky blood, and connected with hers. He looked at her. “He missed. Must have.”

Her body was trembling. She nodded, laughing, then crying.

“Olivia.” He pulled her into his arms. She trembled as she cried. “Are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital?”

“Yes. I just want to go…no, I can't go home.” Her voice pitched higher. “He came into my
home
and brought me here.”

“He broke in?”

“Broke in…” She looked at him. “It sounds crazy, even though I experienced it. He broke into my dreams.” Her whole body convulsed. “Did you know someone could do that?”

“Lucas can. He looked like Lucas Vanderwyck.”

“It's his twin brother. My father brought him into the program right after you left. He told me he could get into dreams and possess people. I was having these nightmares, and I thought it was because of your warning. I didn't believe in
special skills
, not this special! But it was
him.
” He could hear her disgust and anger. “And my father, he knew, he brought these people, you, together, he…” She trembled violently.

He held her tighter, feeling everything inside him open up and pour out like a waterfall. Lucas's twin. He could barely get his head around that. All he really cared about right then was that she was all right.

She put her hands on his face and pressed his bruised flesh. He held back the gasp of pain. “I thought he'd…killed
you
. I saw him…beating you.” Now her tears were for him. Her teeth were chattering, cutting up her sentences. “You found me, out here. My father said you were a finder, and well, there's no
normal
way you could have found me.” Her words were a rush, her adrenaline, and he knew she was still trying to work it out.

“I had help this time. Lucas not only sees the future through drawings; he also gets flashes of images. He saw enough to get me here. I couldn't find you for some reason. I kept getting a block, but I found this place by going above. Lucas and even Eric Aruda had as much to do with saving you as I did.”

She curled into him, her hands tightening in the folds of his shirt. “Get me out of here.”

He helped her to her feet. “Do you want me to carry you?”

“No, I can walk.”

He led the way to the parking lot, watching their surroundings, hyperalert the whole way. “Your car is gone. He must have taken it.”

“Can you find him?”

“I want to get out of here first. He's going to take off, escape. I'll be able to alert the police.” His mouth tightened. “Or find him myself.”

He opened the Camry's passenger door, helped her in, and jumped in on the driver's side. She sat sideways, facing him, leaning against the seat. She looked small and vulnerable, another side to this unfathomable woman. Wasn't that what he loved about exploring, plunging into the depths of underwater caves? He touched her chin, wanting so much to take all this away. He forced himself to start the car and leave.

“You should call your father, tell him what kind of monster he's got working for him.”

She nodded, her hazel eyes wide and slightly glazed.

“I can't let you use my phone. I don't want him to see the number. We'll find a phone booth.”

He drove for twenty minutes, wanting to get out of the area. He stopped at a gas station and pulled around back where it was dark. “I'm going to find him.” He sat back and went into the ether. A minute later he shook his head. “As soon as I got close, he kicked me back.”

“We have to find him!”

“Your father will be motivated to find him, too. Are you up for talking to him?”

She nodded again, and he ran around to open the door and help her out. He had to lean back in and dig around in the ashtray for change. When was the last time he'd used a pay phone? He walked her to the booth, his arm around her waist. She looked up and gasped.

“What?”

“Oh, Nicholas.” She reached up to his face but faltered. “You're a mess. Maybe
you
should go to the hospital.”

“Too many questions. I'm fine. You're the one I'm worried about.”

A man walking to his car did a double take when he passed them; he hurried on.

Nicholas saw his reflection in the laminated metal on the booth's wall. Its distortions made him look worse. He dropped the coins in the slot.

She punched in the numbers with trembling fingers. She stared out the glass, fear in her expression. After a moment, she said, “It's Olivia…” Her voice broke. “Sayre Andrus tried to rape me! He lured me out of my condo,
in my dreams,
he controlled me!” She took a breath. “And now he's out there…No, it wasn't Lucas. He had that Southern accent…. check the estate…All right, call me back at this number. I'm at a phone booth…no, check first. I'm safe here.” Her gaze met his.

She didn't say she was with him. That was good. “He's calling the guard posted outside Sayre's door.”

He pulled her against him, stroking her hair. Her arms went around his waist, and she settled against him, a perfect fit. God, what he felt for her. The thought of losing her, of nearly losing her…he could admit it now. Soon he'd be delivering her to her father, to safety, and he'd be out of her life forever.

The phone rang. He picked it up and handed it to her.

“Yes?”

Nicholas leaned close so he could hear.

“Olivia, Andrus is there. Moreover, the guard said he asked for an antacid an hour ago.”

“No way, he was with me.”

“I asked the guard to check, and he woke up Andrus. The man is there, Olivia. The man who had you was Lucas. You put yourself in danger by telling Nicholas who you are. Now they're targeting you. Where are you? I'm coming to get you.”

She hung up, tears streaming down her face. “He's convinced himself of his truth. He's blinded with righteousness the same way I've been blind to his darkness.”

He wiped the tears, but they were coming too fast.

“I don't know where to go,” she whispered, more to herself.

“You're coming with me.”

He wouldn't leave her alone, not now.

Not ever.

No, he didn't have
ever.
“We'd better get out of here in case he traces the call.”

With his arms around her, he led her back to the car. She was like a little girl who'd lost everything, and he felt the need to find, to fix, to complete. What she'd lost he could never find. Like his father, hers was gone too, but in a way even more devastating. He pulled her into his arms once again and kissed her temple. “It's going to be all right.”

She shook her head. “It's never going to be all right again.”

 

Olivia thought they'd been driving for days, but it had only been an hour. She tried to push away thoughts of the previous hours, of the violation. It all seemed like a nightmare, and for now, she wanted to believe it was. She closed her eyes, but images played like a movie on the screen of her eyelids. She stared into the darkness down where her feet were.

Nicholas's hand rested on her thigh as he drove. When a streetlight lit the interior of the car, she felt his gaze on her. She looked up and cringed at the bruises on his face. He'd saved her life but almost lost his own.

She reached out to touch his arm and gasped. “You're bleeding!”

He glanced down. His sleeve was dark with blood, and a fierce slash went down to his elbow.

“It's not bleeding anymore.”

“How…? He cut you, didn't he?”

“It's not that bad.”

“It needs to be cleaned, probably stitched. You should see a doctor.”

“I'll take care of it when we get back.”

It couldn't be too bad if he was driving. Still, it worried her. Then she realized she had no idea where they were headed. “Are we going to your house?”

His mouth tightened. “I can't go home.” She knew he was too nice to tell her the reason: her father. “I'm taking you to the Rogues' hideout. You'll be safe there.”

Her pulse jumped in her throat. “We can't go there. You didn't see what they did to Jerryl. They
burned
him. I can't be with those people.”

“Jerryl was dangerous. I didn't like how he was killed, but it was the only way.” He turned off the main road into a residential area. Her expression was still set in a stubborn frown. “Livvie, it's the only place I can take you.”

No, not to those savages. Nicholas is one of them. One of them, but not.

“If I take you somewhere else, like a hotel, your father will find us. He'll grab you, and he'll kill me. Neither of those possibilities works for me. And I'm not leaving you alone. The hideout has a protective psychic shield over it, so he won't get to you there. It'll give you a couple of days to catch your breath.”

She couldn't endanger him. And, dammit, she wasn't ready to be alone, either. “All right.”

“But,” he continued in a tone of voice that told her she wasn't going to like what he was going to say, “I can't let you see where the hideout is. I trust you, but they won't, and I can't disregard their need to keep it safe. When we get closer to where it is, you're going to have to look down or close your eyes. And…I'm going to have to blindfold you when we get there, just for a few minutes. Bringing you to the one place they feel safe without protecting them would be a huge violation of their trust in me. Your father's hunting them. I hope you understand.”

She looked at him. He was serious. “No way.”

He let out a long breath. “I know it's a lot to ask after what you just went through. I wouldn't if it wasn't so important.”

“No, Nicholas. I can't.” She twined her fingers. “Do they know I'm Darkwell's daughter?”

“Unfortunately, yes. I kind of freaked when I realized you were in danger and slipped. Now you understand why I have to assure them that you can't lead anyone to the only safe place they—we have.”
We.

“All right. I don't like it, but all right.” Because she had nowhere else to go. No one to go to but this man who'd saved her life. “How did you come to join them? I don't understand how that happened. You're not a guy who storms buildings with guns or kills people. You weren't even comfortable finding the Rogues for my father.”

“The Rogues don't kill indiscriminately. When Cheveyo
rescued Zoe Stoker in Key West as an assassin was about to take her out, he could have killed the guy. He incapacitated him instead. Rand Brandenburg had to shoot the guy when he caught them by surprise, and I could see it tore him up. It was kill or be killed.” His voice got soft. “I didn't think I could ever kill another human being, but seeing that guy with you…” He looked at her. “If I'd had the upper hand, I would have killed him.”

His words thudded heavy in her chest. She saw what it would have cost him to do that. The emotion underlying the statement scuttled through her body.

He told her what Petra had said and everything else that had happened since. “Do you understand now why I wanted my father's folder badly enough to sneak into Darkwell's office twice?”

“Now I wish I hadn't stopped you.”

He nodded in agreement but didn't rub it in or even reveal any anger over it.

She could hardly process it all. “A few days ago I would have thought you were completely crazy.”

“And now?”

“This is all so…insane, but I believe you.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “It must be real because there is no other way you could have found me.”

“I felt the same way before working for your father. I thought I was just really good at finding stuff, though I knew there was something odd about it. With Bone Finders, or my former boss, I had to downplay my preciseness and the speed in which I could locate. Once my boss asked, ‘What, you psychic or something?' in such a derisive way, I knew I could never reveal just how I find things. I had this conception about psychics. You know, crystal balls and tea leaves, all that hokey stuff. What I did was different. It blew my mind when Darkwell told me my ability is a psychic skill.”