Touching Darkness (27 page)

Little gasps escaped her, almost like high-pitched yelps. Just as she felt that growing sensation, she held off by slow
ing down. He kissed her breasts and dipped his tongue in the hollow between them. She was amazed he held on to his orgasm so long. She knew he'd been on the edge when she'd gone down on him.

His breathing, though, became more labored, deeper and shorter. Those waves of pleasure rocketing through her stole away her breath, too. The orgasm hit her like an explosion, sending her screaming in pleasure. His fingers dug into her back as she felt him throbbing inside her, heard him let out a long groan.

She pulled her head back, her face flushed, her mouth in a smile she couldn't even begin to tame. He had that same kind of smile on his face. Warm aftershocks pulsed through her, and she could feel his heartbeat.

“You were incredible,” he said at the same time that she said, “You were awesome.”

She laughed, hugging him close, loving the feeling of being in his arms. Loving feeling him still inside her, and amazingly enough, still hard. Loving…him? He'd fallen in love with her. He hadn't professed it in a,
I want to be with you forever
way, but that's because he believed he was going to die soon.

She held his face in her hands. “Don't try to protect me. It's already too late. I've fallen for you, too. If you leave my life now, it'll hurt as much as if I lost you in any other way. I'm already in up to my eyebrows. Let me make the choice. Whatever heartache might come, it'll be worth it.”

He looked at her, his gaze intense. “I am so lost.”

She put her palm against his cheek. “Little boy lost. All those missions, that need you feel. For a man who's good at finding things, you never realized you were missing a piece of yourself.”

His voice was barely audible when he said, “You're that missing piece.” His gaze darkened. “But—”

She pressed her finger against his mouth. “Let's just be, no buts.” No way could she let him go now. She sure as hell wasn't going to let him die.

The sound of a twig snapping shot through the air. They both jumped to their feet, and he pushed her clothes at her, his gaze on where the sound had come. The sun was almost gone, leaving only wisps of light in the woods.

They both dressed wordlessly. He palmed his keys and took hold of her hand. He squeezed it and, leaning close to her ear, whispered, “Get ready to run.”

L
ucas spent the evening jumping down everyone's throats. He finally put them out of their misery and went to his room. As agreed upon, Eric moved the desk in front of the door so Lucas couldn't come out during his sleep. He sank onto the bed and tried to calm himself enough to go to Amy's dreams.

He didn't bother to take any nice scenery with him, as he'd done before. He pulled her from a dream about a talking black mouse.

“I want you home
now
.”

She turned around, her expression chagrined. “I didn't think about your coming to my dreams.”

“Either you get home, or I'm coming to get you.”

“No, let me do this. We're waiting to see how the test mouse did with the newest version of the antidote. Lucas, this may be your salvation.”

“Have you found out what it is yet?”

“Not exactly, but it may be a myto…myxo…a slime mold. He's obsessed with them. He said one of them moved—
moved
onto his plate! That's how he accidentally ingested it.”

She did sound excited, but he couldn't get past her deception. Especially since that deception could put her in
danger. “I'm giving you one last chance to either come home or tell me where you are.”

Her expression fell. “Lucas, I can't take the chance you'll come here and kill Wallace. Not on purpose, like Eric might. But through Sayre. I'll be back tomorrow.” She put her arms around his shoulders and gave him a look that threatened to melt him. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” But he was going to have a hard time forgiving her for sneaking off.

He pulled out before he said something he'd regret. Besides, he didn't want to tire himself. He had something else to do.

He pictured his twin brother, focused on him with every cell of his body. The process was faster this time, and he felt his soul fly into the other man's dreams. A dream of violence, Sayre pinning a woman to the floor with his body. He looked up. The woman disappeared, and he came to his feet with a feral smile.

“Hey, there, brother. Nice of you to drop in.”

Lucas had nothing to say to him. He'd read about him on the Internet and knew what kind of monster he was. There would be no reasoning with him.

He wrapped his hands around Sayre's throat. They struggled, Sayre with his hands around Lucas's throat as well.

“Aw, brother, you don't have to give me a hug,” he said in a strained voice. “I know you love me.”

“Leave me and my people alone.”

“But I love my little visits. And your girlfriend, she's cute.”

Lucas brought up his knee and shoved it into his gut. Sayre doubled over, looked up with a snarl, and sent him hurtling right out of the dream.

Lucas woke with a start, his body soaked with sweat.
Hell.
Of course Sayre had seen Amy when he'd possessed Lucas. The crazy part was, she might be safer where she was—away from him.

 

Nicholas pulled the knife out of the backpack, gripping it so hard his knuckles hurt. He knew, somehow, that the sound was either Darkwell or his men. Probably both. Darkwell wouldn't hurt his daughter, but she could get caught in the cross fire. And if he forced her back to the estate, Sayre could get to her.

He did a location on the car. Straight out to the west. With Olivia's hand gripped in his, he led her in that direction. Two figures moved out of the shadows up ahead. He stopped, hoping they wouldn't see their movement.

“Over there!” a man shouted.

Damn. They probably had night goggles or heat-sensing ones. There was barely enough light to see by.

“Sir, they're heading west.”

Sir.
Darkwell.

He led Olivia in a different direction. The two figures separated and disappeared among the tree trunks. He wanted to call a time-out and get her out of there. Footsteps sounded in the distance. He could hear her fearful breathing, see the whites of her eyes as she searched around them. He gave her hand a squeeze of reassurance.

A gun pressed against his side. “Don't move.”

He jammed the knife into the man's arm. The gunman screamed and dropped the gun.

Olivia gasped. Another man grabbed her from behind and pointed his gun in Nicholas's direction. “Drop the weapon.”

Nicholas kept his grip on the knife.

“Look, buddy, our orders are just to bring you in. Unless you cause trouble. Then we take you out. Your choice.”

No way was he going to be a guinea pig like Lucas.

The first guy tore his shirt and wrapped it around his gushing arm.

“You all right, Dan?” the second man asked.

Olivia took advantage of his momentary shift of attention, grabbed the hand holding her, and bit down hard. He jerked his hand away, and she grabbed his gun. He wouldn't let go, and they struggled.

Nicholas felt around on the ground until his fingers touched the cold metal of Dan's gun. He pointed it at the second guy as he wrested his gun from Olivia's grasp.

“Don't move. I will shoot.” He meant it. Something inside him changed, grew harder, stronger. He really felt like a Rogue.

Olivia took the gun from the guy.

Nicholas jabbed his gun into the uninjured man's back. “Move, both of you.”

His heart thudded as they walked toward the edge of the woods. “Be ready,” he told Olivia. “Your father's probably going to be waiting there.”

Her body stiffened, but she nodded. He saw something change in her, too, in the way her shoulders broadened and her chin jutted out.

The second man looked back at Olivia. She narrowed her eyes, holding her gun just inches from his shoulder. “I'm a CIA officer. I know how to shoot.” She winked at Nicholas to indicate she was bluffing. It had worked. The men walked even faster.

They broke out of the forest, the two men first. Darkwell was behind his car, gun aimed at them. His headlights were on, illuminating the area and nearly blinding Nicholas.

“Try anything, and I'll shoot them,” Nicholas said. He'd never shot a gun before, but he'd do it if he had to.

“Go ahead.”

He went cold. The man meant it.

“Father!”

“Olivia, get over here. You're a Darkwell, not a fugitive or a traitor. I don't want you hurt.”

She stepped in front of Nicholas. “You're right, I'm not cut out for this stuff. But I won't let you shoot him. Let us leave, and I'll come back and talk to you.”

“Livvie…” God, that she would shield him from her father's bullet. That she would risk her safety.

“It's okay,” she whispered.

“Olivia, you're acting like a foolish teenager. Get over here
now.
”

“Tomorrow. You'll have to trust me, just as you asked me to trust you all these years. Promise you'll let us leave, and I promise to meet you tomorrow.”

He hesitated.

One of the men began to slowly reach back, and Nicholas jammed the gun into his back. “That son of a bitch doesn't care if you die. Why should I?”

The man relaxed his arm, his mouth tightening.

Darkwell's mouth was pinched, his eyes hard and cold. “All right.”

“I'm trusting you, Father. Don't shoot this man in front of me. I would never, ever forgive you for that.” His stance faltered at that, and he laid the gun on the roof of his car. She stayed close to Nicholas as they walked to the Camry.

“Don't let me down, either, Olivia.”

“I won't.”

She took the guns from Nicholas once he was in the car. They tore down the road, both looking behind them. No headlights followed.

“You could have been hurt, putting yourself in front of me like that.”

She wrapped her fingers around his arm. “I had no choice. I knew he'd kill you, and that scared me beyond words.”

“You can't go back to him. Remember what I said.”

“I have to. I gave my word. A Darkwell always lives up to her word.”

He looked at her, seeing the seriousness of her expression.

“I'm not going to stay.” She turned toward the back again. “I need to confront my father about my mother. I need the truth from him. If he did something to her, I'll
have some leverage. I'm going to use it for you. I can find out the truth about BLUE EYES. He owes me that. And I'm going to reason with him about his mission to kill the Rogues. I'm the only hope in convincing him to leave them alone.” She looked at him. “To leave you alone.”

“He's got a history of manipulating you.”

“That
is
history. I'm not that Olivia anymore. You can't stop me, Nicholas, so don't try.”

His expression hardened, but he relented. He reached over. “If you can't convince him, stay away from the Rogues, from me. I don't want you in another situation like this one.”

“There you go again, trying to protect me. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself.” She gave him a strong, beautiful smile. “But first we go to this place where the eye is. I want to see it, too.” Her smile faltered. “Then I go to my father.”

It hit him. “You're trying to save me from dying.”

Her expression was even more serious. “I know that fire is going to happen because of my father. I'm going to do whatever I can to stop it.”

A
my woke the next morning in the guest suite, anxious to see how Astrid 4222 had fared through the night.

She followed the aroma of coffee to the kitchen, where she found Magnus looking at the courtyard, a dark expression on his face.

He turned when she stepped up beside him. “You'd like some coffee.”

Though he hadn't actually asked more than stated, she said, “I'd love some. It smells wonderful.”

“Comes from the rain forest.” He pulled down a dark brown mug and poured her coffee from a French press. “And yes, it's fair trade.”

She narrowed her eyes. “How did you know I was going to ask that?”

His mouth quirked in a smile. “I'm a mind reader.”

“Seriously?” With anyone else, she would have thought he was kidding.

“Yes, but everyone else isn't like us.”

Point made. “Okay, seriously. How does it work?”

“I just get words here and there. I can't read every thought. Most people's thoughts are noise, repetitive thoughts of worry, running conversations, to-do lists. From you I got:
Mmm, coffee. Fair trade?
”

She started to think it would be quite annoying to live with someone who could read minds but stopped. “That could come in handy with the women.”

His mouth twisted in a sardonic smile. “It's not like I've had much of a chance to try it.”

“Your father has been in hiding for probably your whole life.”

He took a sip of coffee. “Yeah. We've lived here for the last ten years. Home-schooled by Mom, socialized by television. When Lachlan and I were young, we imitated canned laughter whenever someone told a joke or fumbled something.

“Our father arranged for us to get false identities showing that we got our education in Japan to explain why we weren't in the American school system. I had just gotten a job at a record store and hooked up with a band. I was actually beginning to live a normal life…until my father phoned yesterday. Now we're in hiding again.”

He glanced away for a second, then looked at her again. “I saw you roaming around last night, mate.”

“Me? I don't think so.”

“You were heading back to the guest room. What were you doing?”

“Getting a drink of water.” The words came out, but she didn't actually remember doing so.

He studied her, probably reading her thoughts to see if she was lying. “Hope you found it all right.”

“I think so.” She took another sip of coffee. “What do you know about BLUE EYES?”

“Dad told us about the program, what they accomplished.”

She stepped in front of him and tried not to sound too desperate. “What's in the Booster?”

“He says it's best if we don't know. The antidote is the important thing.”

She followed his gaze to the courtyard. Lachlan was sitting on the stone floor, wearing only shorts, his legs crossed. “Is he meditating?”

“He's punishing himself. Come on, I'll take you to the lab.”

They walked through the courtyard, and Lachlan didn't seem to notice them. The goose bumps on his body made her wonder how long he'd been out there. The mornings started out cool.

When they reached the lab, Amy asked, “What's he punishing himself for?”

“Killing our mother.” He opened the door, letting her hang on those horrible words.

It's not nice to drop a bomb like that and walk away, you know.

He gave her an unapologetic look and walked inside.

She followed him to where Richard was leaning over Astrid 4222's cage. She had decided not to tell Lucas about Richard's accusation of murder. That needed to be told to all of them in person.

She leaned close to the cage. “How is she doing?” The mouse was sniffing up at them, bobbing her head.

“Not bad. I've examined the video of her through the night. No seizures, normal sleep patterns.” He looked at her. “Tell me, how many Offspring are with you?”

It was hard to trust anyone, especially someone involved in the program. “A few of us.”

He nodded, as though he understood her reluctance. “You said Lucas was experiencing blackouts and painful storms of images. Does anyone else have odd symptoms?”

“Eric's always been on the edge. One of us can heal, but she's been warned if she heals too many mortal wounds, it could psychically break her down.”

Richard nodded. “It isn't so much what she's doing but the frequency and intensity. That's true for all of you.” He looked at Magnus, who was watching other Astrids in an
adjacent cage. “My sons started showing their abilities when they reached puberty. They had each inherited some of my abilities. I'd told them about BLUE EYES years earlier; I had to explain why we were living the way we were…and what was going on inside them.”

“That sure beats the birds-and-bees talk for complexity.”

Magnus laughed but Richard didn't. “It would have been easier to explain string theory.”

Magnus looked at the clock and left.

Richard picked up Astrid 4222, but not by the tail like she'd seen in the movies. He let her sit in the palm of his hand. “Both boys embraced their skills. Lachlan is the oldest one, by eleven months, two days. He's twenty and one year, two months, four days. Thirteen months, one week, three days ago he had mastered many of his skills. But he was also showing signs I had seen in myself: agitation, no impulse control, blackouts, and sleeplessness.”

“Sleeplessness?” Eric hadn't been able to sleep since he'd burned Jerryl.

“It was maddening. I had been working on the antidote, giving it to myself in various doses over the years, but it proved to be unstable. It decreased my symptoms but also my abilities. I was afraid to use it on my sons. Because I knew the more we used our powers, the faster the insanity came, I warned the two not to use them, at least on purpose. The way you see glows and Magnus's ability to hear thoughts can't be controlled.”

Amy shook her head.

“I can astral project, have since I was fourteen years, four months, and twelve days. The first time, it seemed so natural. I quickly discovered it wasn't natural at all, that, in fact, no one even believed me. I validated my sons when they began showing the signs. I prepared them. Magnus can move things, as I can, at his target location. Lachlan and I could astral project to not only other places but other time periods as well.”

“You can go to the past?”

“It made teaching him history quite fascinating.” He was still focused on Astrid, stroking her back. “We've gone to the Wild West, Victorian England, and even the Civil War period.”

“That's incredible!”

A reminiscent smile crept onto his face. “It was. I have an affinity for time. I can tell you what day it was on any date you give me.” Thus his way of breaking down measurements of time. He sank into his thoughts for a moment.

Amy leaned against the counter. “What's the difference between remote viewing and astral projecting?”

“When we project, we have an astral body. We can interact with people or objects at the target location. And we can be seen as an apparition.”

“An Offspring who's working with Darkwell can astral project, too.”

His head whipped up. “Who?”

“Fonda Raine.”

He got very pale.

It didn't take her long to figure out the timing his mind was calculating. Offspring inherited their parents' abilities. The Booster had made the recipients amorous.

“She's your daughter, isn't she?”

“Possibly. Her mother said the child couldn't be mine, because the timing of ovulation didn't work for our single assignation. She was married, you see. But she couldn't astral project.”

“Which makes Fonda an Ultra. That's what Darkwell calls the Offspring who come from two of the program's subjects. They're even stronger, and more susceptible to all of the side effects.” Which explained why Nicholas heard her and Jerryl having crazy-monkey sex.

Richard put his hand over his mouth, his thoughts deep and dark.

She was thinking, too. “What could her mother do? Fonda may have inherited that skill as well. We need to know, because right now, she's our enemy. Your enemy, too. Darkwell no doubt has her trying to locate you.”

“She could freeze time for a period. Really, it's a matter of changing the perception of time. Time freezes for the other person. So even if a target was being guarded, our assassin went in, shot him, then got out. When time resumed, the target was mysteriously dead.”

“That's wild. And scary as hell. Did Darkwell suspect you'd gotten her pregnant?”

“No. We kept it quiet.”

She was startled to see Magnus walking across the courtyard wearing a kilt and carrying a sword. He walked purposefully over to Lachlan, swung the sword up and then down in an arc to press against his throat.

“Oh, my God. Am I seeing that? Or did I just slip to another time period, too?”

“It's time for practice. Lachlan will stay out there all morning unless Magnus prods him. They've been practicing swordsmanship since Magnus was ten years, two months, and two days and Lachlan eleven years, four months, one week, and two days. I thought they should be prepared.”

Lachlan didn't seem bothered or afraid. He stood, slowly and painfully, with resolve on his face and followed Magnus.

“Magnus said he was punishing himself.”

“Yes, though in a way it was my fault.”

Astrid 4222 squeaked as she ran up Richard's arm and hid under his lab-coat collar. “Lachlan wanted to go to the battlefield of Culloden because of our family history. My wife's history. I didn't think it was a good idea, given his symptoms, but he was twenty and three weeks. Who listens to his father when he thinks he's an adult? I didn't realize he was addicted to astral projection. He
had been covertly doing it every day. It finally caught up to him.

“Lachlan took that trip to Scotland and became mentally trapped there. Magnus came running up the basement stairs yelling that Lachlan was going crazy, slashing his sword as though he were in battle. We all ran down…including my dear Astrid. Lachlan saw not us, but the enemy: English soldiers. And he came at us. He nearly lanced Magnus as he was trying to put his body between Lachlan's and ours. Lachlan turned and stabbed Astrid in the stomach. I would have risked anything, even our safety, to save her, but she didn't want that. She knew she was dying. So much blood. She died within five minutes.”

Astrid darted down his arm and jumped into the cage. She leapt onto the wheel and began running furiously. Richard's eyebrows furrowed, but he continued with his story.

“By then Magnus had brought Lachlan back. He was devastated, still is. I can't hate him, though I know he hates himself.”

He was studying Astrid 4222 with a concerned expression. “Lachlan insisted I give him the latest version of the antidote. He was in a desperate state, and I complied. He slept for twenty-four hours straight. Over the next week, he had no blank-outs, no episodes, slept normally. But he'd lost his ability. He still hasn't regained it.

“I gave the antidote to Magnus, too. I couldn't take the chance. He, however, did not lose his ability. I don't like the instability of the antidote, but seeing what Lachlan went through—what we all went through—I decided I must find the children of the subjects. If my sons were experiencing this, you might be, too. But will your people take it?”

She shook her head. “I don't know.”

Astrid 4222 had worn herself out. She was panting
on the cedar chips. Amy looked at Richard. “You said Darkwell killed our parents. How do you know?”

“Because I projected into their final moments. I saw a man pull the trigger on your father. I saw Francesca Vanderwyck's car get nudged off the highway by another vehicle. I saw a sniper take out Jack Stoker, even though he'd been brought under control after the shooting spree. And I saw two men hanging Wayne Blackhawk Kee.”

Amy's hand went to her mouth. Her heart tore as she imagined her father, a gun the last thing he ever saw. So he hadn't killed himself, hadn't failed to think about his daughter finding his body. She tucked that away to think about later. “Darkwell covered it up.”

Richard continued. “If we went crazy, families would investigate, demand answers. It was easier to take us out. I knew I was next.”

“What about Rand Brandenburg's father? He supposedly embezzled money and killed himself when he was caught.”

“Another cover-up. I doubt he took a dime.” He nodded to a fridge filled with jars of liquid. “I will prepare the antidote for your people. Each syringe will hold the exact amount I gave Lachlan and Magnus.”

“I'll need eight of them.” She was including Cheveyo, though she didn't know if they would see him again.

He walked out of the lab, leaving a soft light on for the mice. Amy heard metal clanging together. Behind one of the glass walls, Magnus and Lachlan engaged in a swordfight, both wearing Scottish regalia. Magnus had his curls tied back in a queue. Lachlan's hair was loose and wild.

She wandered over to watch them, caught up in the magnificence of their moves, the fierceness of their expressions. Magnus was everything she imagined a Highlander would look like, with his bare, broad shoulders and combination of strength and grace. Lachlan was no less handsome, but
his moves were stiffer, angrier. His glow was jagged, even when he'd been meditating.

She could also see Richard in the glass's reflection as he knelt and took in the beauty of his slime molds. At the same moment, he sprang up and Magnus dropped his sword. Both men looked at each other, their expressions stark with fear. All three men walked toward each other.

Magnus opened the door. “You felt it, too.”

“Yes. Trouble. Not Amy Shane trouble.”

“Darker, dangerous,” Magnus said. “We need to get her out of here.”