Vengeance (34 page)

Another syringe.

"David, don't," Meyer gasped. "I can still synthesize the virus. You can--"

Delacroix drove the syringe downward, stabbing Meyer in the neck so violently I heard the sound of bone snapping. Meyer screamed as Delacroix depressed the plunger. His eyes widened with shock and he started to slowly slide down the wall, leaving a thin trail of blood on the pale green wallpaper. As he reached the floor, his eyes sought out mine. "Haidess," he whispered. "Why? Why choose death?"

I held Lucinda's hand, her life essence fading in my consciousness. "Because life isn't worth living..." without the person you love.

Lucinda's ghostly voice echoed in my mind.
I always will. I'll love you through all time.

Delacroix knelt next to me, tears rolling down his face as he touched Lucinda's neck. "Thank you for killing Meyer," I whispered. "Now kill me."

He squeezed my hand. "What do you mean?"

Despite his words, I saw the understanding in his eyes. "Kill me. I won't live without her. I can't go through it again."

His pale face softened into regret. "I can't. I'm sorry. I only made enough of the antidote to kill Meyer and one backup ampoule. I'm sorry."

"Holy Jesus. Look at that. What the fuck happened here?"

I heard the new voice from the kitchen and smiled despite my pain. Trust Joannie to get right to the heart of the matter. I turned my head and saw her and Sheila come into the room, guns drawn, tiny Joannie leading the way.

"Nico!" Sheila knelt next to me as Joannie held her gun steady on David Delacroix.

"He's a friend," I whispered. "Don't hurt him."

Joannie glanced at me but stayed alert, her bright blue eyes sweeping from Parker, to Meyer, to Delacroix, then back to me, where I lay next to Lucinda on the floor.

"Kat Delacroix sent us," Sheila whispered, her round, plump face anguished. "Homeland Security was investigating Parker. She said you needed backup." Her gaze shifted past me to the floor nearby, where Parker was gasping for breath. "We thought it was him, but we weren't sure. Parker didn't know we were on to him. When he sent me here, it was a chance to find more evidence. And it was a chance to help you. I'm sorry, we meant to get here sooner--"

Her voice started to fade. "Kill me," I whispered. "Cut my throat. It's the only way I can die. Kill me, Sheila."

She pulled back, stunned. I let my head drop to one side and stared at Delacroix. He shook his head. "I can't," he said. "I'm sorry."

I'll do it
, Cerberus whispered.

I jerked my head and looked into his eyes, a few feet away from my own. Pain hazed them, making the pale blue even paler. "What will happen?" I croaked.

His tongue lolled out.
Ask God
. He scrabbled on the wood floor, his claws rasping as he stretched out to me. I struggled to fight past the pain, flinging my hand toward his paw.

We touched.

I heard Delacroix's voice from a far distance. "Take care of my girl."

Cerberus's face blurred in front of me, shifting and changing then I saw David Delacroix again, dressed in faded denims and a blindingly white T-shirt. But this time he was laughing, smiling at me with such a paternal, proud look that I felt healed by the very sight.

"Good work, Nico," he said. "We finally got that son of a bitch, Meyer."

I moved carefully, but there was no pain. I was lying on the grassy lawn that sloped down to the lake at my home in the North Woods. My house was behind me, full of memories from my past. As always, just the sight of it gave me a sense of peace that I felt nowhere else in the world. I was home.

A warm summer breeze rippled through the trees, sending up a scent of grass and honeysuckle. Lucinda stood near the lake, staring at the vast expanse of water that shared a border with Minnesota and Canada. Seeing her there made me realize that I was truly home.

"What happened?" I asked.

Delacroix looked at Lucinda, shading his eyes with one hand. I followed his gaze. A large dog, black and white with feet the size of dinner plates was gamboling beside Lucinda, barking. I laughed when I saw him jump in the air and twist, looking as though he was leaping for joy. He reminded me of the Velveteen Rabbit, who discovered he had real legs.

Lucinda laughed too. "He's such a show-off," she called to me. She wore shorts and a cropped T-shirt. Her skin was brown from the sun and she was barefoot, her feet sinking into the thick, moist grass. Her dark curly hair shone in the sun, glossy and vibrant with life. "Come on, Nico. Let's go swimming." Lucinda gestured to me, racing after the dog as he splashed into the lake.

I looked up at Delacroix then got to my feet. I felt odd. My bones ached and I was bruised, battered. I looked down and saw blood on my side, where Parker shot me. "What's happening?" I touched my throat and my hand came away covered in blood.

"You're dying." Delacroix turned to face me, but it wasn't really David Delacroix, I could see that now. This was some other being, some creature who had temporarily borrowed Delacroix in order to walk among us mortals. His eyes were the color of cold steel and his face was stern, unyielding and full of wisdom. "Do you want to die?"

I heard the question within the question. I looked at the lake. Lucinda stood in the shallows, the water lapping around her thighs. The dog bounced in and out of the waves around her, snapping at the water. "Is she dead?"

Delacroix nodded.

"Can I be with her?" I looked around at the grassy yard, the lake in the distance. "Here? We can be here?"

"We all choose our own heaven. If this is it for you--" He nodded again. "She said if that's what you wanted then she wanted you. You can die with her, or you can both be reborn and come back together, with full knowledge of the past. She served her penance and has earned her redemption. She left it to you to decide what that redemption will be."

The dog barked and surged out of the water. Lucinda laughed, tossing a stick. The dog plunged after it, submerging, then paddling triumphantly back to her, stick in his mouth. "And Cerberus?"

Delacroix smiled, the harsh face relaxing. "Now he's just a dog. We...borrowed that form too. He can stay with you if you'd like."

Sunlight warmed my face and I sniffed at the heady aroma of summer, the smells of grass and flowers and trees. I felt a tug of regret at the loss of all that beauty. Then Lucinda turned to wave to me.
I love you, Nico
.

Cerberus came into the shallows, his tail sweeping the water and sending a shower over Lucinda, who laughed and splashed him back. His tongue lolled out and I know he was grinning at me.
Are you coming?
he called.

I shivered, remembering that feeling.

Someone walked on my grave.

The feeling had been right.

I looked at Lucinda and Cerberus. We had all the time in the world.

I ran after them, the bright light of sun on water lifting me.

Shelia knelt next to the dead man on the floor, tears in her eyes. "Son of a bitch," she muttered. She looked across the room at the slumped figures of Parker Madison and Robert Meyer. "This is a mess."

David Delacroix blinked widely, looking startled. "How do you know Meyer?"

Sheila straightened up slowly, her eyes going to the dead woman and the dead dog sprawled next to Nico Haidess. "Kat sent us. We've known for a time that something was wrong in the Agency. Parker's been acting--" She shook her head.

"Weird," Joannie supplied. "Something was up." She looked down at Nico and winced. "I liked him. What a waste. Shit." Her tiny body seemed to vibrate with anger.

Sheila glanced again at Parker Madison. He was rigid, his face mottled blue and his mouth fixed in a grimace of pain. Meyer was next to him, his hands clenched around the syringe that still protruded from his neck. "I talked to some people I know and they hooked me up with Homeland Security. Turns out they were looking at Parker too. Your granddaughter knew that Parker set up the hit on your daughter and she wanted Nico to have backup, so she sent us. We were too late, though."

"Aunt Lucinda?"

Joannie turned at the sound of pounding footsteps, holstering her gun. "Company," she said, moving to one side.

Kat Delacroix burst into the room, gun drawn, followed by three men. Two of the men moved immediately to Parker Madison and Robert Meyer while Kat and the other man approached Sheila.

"Damn," Kat said softly, looking down at Lucinda's body. "They shouldn't have left. I didn't have anyone in place fast enough." Kat glared at Nico then glanced to the side of the room. "Status?"

The two men straightened up. "Dead."

"Get the recovery teams in," Kat said, holstering her gun. "We need autopsies."

Joannie's hand went to her gun and she shifted position so more of the room was within her field of vision. "What?"

The third man standing next to Kat stared at them, his dark eyes unreadable. "You don't need to know." He gestured to Nico and Lucinda.

Sheila stepped forward. "Not them." She looked at David Delacroix, who nodded wearily. "You don't get them."

Kat started to speak, then saw the look on her grandfather's face. "We have Meyer. That's enough. Maybe if we have his body we can find out what's missing."

The man hesitated. Kat stared him in the eye for a long moment. He finally gave a curt nod and went to join the other men, kneeling next to Meyer and Parker Madison.

Delacroix watched him walk away then turned to Kat. "What do you mean?"

Kat smiled bitterly. "I think you know." They exchanged a long look. "You're lucky, grandfather. Lucky we have Meyer. If we didn't have him, we might have to start asking a lot of very pertinent questions."

"Cut the bullshit, Kat," David said, his voice rough and low. "You know why I'm still alive. I left information with some very influential newspaper people and research scientists. If anything happens to me, it goes public. So don't put on this fake 'take care of the family' act. I won't divulge what I know because of the harm it might do to the world and you won't harm me in case I do divulge it. Checkmate."

"And if you're smart, you'll keep it that way." She glanced behind her at the men talking in quiet voices. "I can't protect you if you talk," she said softly. "The only reason I was able to protect you this long is because we needed the formula. We don't need it now. We have Meyer. "

He smiled, his craggy face suddenly mischievous. "I wouldn't count on that," he murmured. "The infected body synthesizes certain key elements of the virus. I think your scientists will have a lot of research ahead of them."

Kat's jaw clenched. Sheila remained totally still, unwilling to break the stalemate between the two.

"Leave it, Kat," he said softly. "It's not perfect, but it's a balance, of sorts. When I die..." He shrugged. "The knowledge dies with me."

"But we have to have--" Kat's glance flickered to Sheila, who didn't try to disguise her interest.

"Leave it," he repeated. He looked down at Lucinda and Nico, his face twisting with grief. "Now what? Do we just pretend none of this happened? Do we forget them? Does it all get covered up?"

Kat looked down at her aunt's body. "Of course not," she whispered. Her façade slipped briefly and Sheila saw the anguish in the woman's plain face. Then she blinked and the professional mask slammed back into place. "We'll have to handle it. It was a home break-in. Two tragic, senseless deaths. We'll handle it." She nodded thoughtfully then swung her gaze to David Delacroix. "It's time for you to come out of hiding. I can arrange that. Jeff and John will need your help running the company."

"Jeff and--" Delacroix's face twisted. "Cara?"

Kat nodded. "She died on the way to the hospital."

"Dear God." Delacroix's voice was tortured and low. "Why?"

Kat looked at Meyer's crumpled body. "Ask him. He's the one who started it all."

Sheila followed Kat's gaze. The three men were bending over the two bodies on the far side of the room. She moved to stand next to Nico's body as Joannie knelt next to the big dog, touching his body gently. "I don't understand. Why did Nico ask us to kill him?"

"I think..." Delacroix finally looked at his daughter, lying in the arms of Nico Haidess. "He finally found something that was worth dying for and he was afraid to lose it."

"But he did lose it," Joannie said, touching Nico's hand. "He lost it all."

Delacroix shook his head, his gray eyes suddenly the color of harsh, cold steel. Sheila stepped away, startled by the transformation it made in his face. Then the sharp look faded and all she saw was a father's sadness.

David Delacroix smiled. "I wouldn't count on that."

The End

J L Wilson writes mystery novels and paranormal romance novels in addition to the History Patrol series that features romance, reincarnation, and time travel. She also teaches writing in a series of workshops and blogs on a regular basis in a variety of spots online.