Angel's Pain (14 page)

And then she lowered her head and resumed feasting.

 

Briar lifted her head from Reaper's throat when he stopped moving. He was still hard inside her, but he was out cold. Not dead. Not yet. But she'd taken far too much from him. Enough to debilitate him. Enough to render him unconscious.

“Enough to shut you the fuck up,” she muttered. And then she climbed off him, righted her clothes and settled herself back behind the wheel. “Maybe I can drive in peace for a while now, without you picking at my psyche.”

She glanced sideways at him as she drove the car over the uneven terrain and back toward the highway once more, and in spite of herself, a kernel of worry niggled at her. She would have to keep careful track of him, make sure he didn't wind up dead. If he got close, she would have to give him a few drops of her own blood to make up for some of what she'd taken.

She hit the highway and drove north, attuning her mind to his every so often, just to be sure he hadn't expired. He hadn't. He was dreaming about screwing her, probably thought they were still going at it.

She rolled her eyes and told herself that he was ridiculous, even as she shifted in her seat, aroused by the visions had she glimpsed in his mind. Dammit. She slid him a look and pursed her lips. “Fine. I admit it. I want you. I never felt this much attraction for anyone before, and to tell you the truth, I never thought I'd ever actually
want
sex. It was either forced on me, or it was a necessity for survival. A means to an end. I never got off in my
life
…until that time in the car with you.” Her lips pulled into a small smile. “Hey, that makes twice we've done it, and both times in a vehicle. I wonder if that means anything? That esoteric bitch Roxy would probably have all kinds of interpretations for it.”

She drove a little faster, passing traffic smoothly as she came to it. She flipped on the radio but kept the volume low and soothing. “This is kind of nice,” she said. “Talking to you when you're too out of it to hear a word I'm saying, or to try to analyze or dig into my mind or prove to me or to yourself that I'm really some kind of sweet thing, deep down. 'Cause I'm not, you know. I'm a cold bitch, Reaper. You get too close to me, I'll take you down with the rest of them.”

She stared at him for a moment, and a whisper of doubt moved through her mind like a warm breeze. She wouldn't take him down. She knew it. She wouldn't hurt him the way she intended to hurt all the others. He'd done nothing to deserve it. Nothing besides try to find something worth caring about in her. It was a futile search, but she couldn't hate him for trying. Dark and dangerous as he was, he was still one of the good guys. And the good guys tended to think there was good in everyone.

But there wasn't, not in her. Never had been.

Suddenly, out of the blue-black night sky, there came a blinding flash of pain hitting right in the center of her forehead and exploding outward. She shrieked in agony, her muscles clenching tight, hand jerking hard on the wheel in a reflexive response to the excruciating pain. She felt the tires leaving the pavement, felt the car going airborne, but even when the impact came, with its crunching metal and shattering glass, she felt the pain in her head above everything else.

R
eaper, happily faking his state of unconsciousness, hadn't realized anything was wrong until Briar's anguished shriek split his eardrums. And by the time he reacted, the car was already airborne and his grab for the wheel to try to right it was completely useless.

He glimpsed Briar as the car sailed through the night, her head bent forward, her eyes squeezed tight against her tears, her teeth bared in a grimace of pain, hands in a white-knuckled grip on the wheel. She'd opened her eyes briefly, glowing red and meeting his, insane with agony, just before the car hit a tree halfway down the side of an embankment, nose first.

His body snapped forward so hard that it felt as if the seat belt had torn his shoulder from its socket. And then…sudden stillness. Grimacing, Reaper lifted his head and reached down to undo the seat belt, even while blinking his vision into focus and looking for Briar.

Panic set in when he realized she wasn't there. She wasn't behind the wheel. She wasn't in her seat.

Shit, she hadn't put her seat belt back on!

“Briar!” Reaper wrenched his door open and got out of the car. He was hurting but not bleeding. And he was only slightly weakened from her earlier attack. He'd pretended to pass out, knowing she wouldn't stop until he did. And he'd thought himself pretty damn clever, too, when she'd begun talking to him, revealing secrets as if he couldn't hear, when he was listening the entire time.

But if he hadn't been faking her out, he might have seen this coming.

He noted with a wince that the windshield was blown out and realized that Briar had likely sailed through it. He climbed over some brush and finally spotted her. She was lying in a shallow stream just beyond the tree they'd hit. Running forward, he slid his hands beneath her body and lifted her.

“Briar. Hey, come on. Wake up.”

She didn't. Just lay there, limp in his arms. He trudged out of the water, searching in vain for someplace to go, someplace to take her. She was soaking wet, though he didn't smell blood or sense her life force ebbing.

“Dammit, Briar, wake up and talk to me.”

He found a dry spot on the grassy hillside littered in fallen leaves and dandelions, and laid her down, then bent over her, examining her more closely. Her face was bruised and scratched. Her hands and arms, as well, but there were no deep cuts, no injuries that looked serious enough to threaten a vampire's life.

He cupped her cheeks in his palms. “Briar!”

Her lashes fluttered, and then, slowly, her eyes opened, but she quickly squeezed them tight again. “I can't. It hurts.”

“What hurts?” he demanded.

“My head. God, my head.” She lifted trembling hands and pressed them to either side of her eyes.

“Did you hit it in the crash?”

Eyes still squeezed tight, she shook her head very slightly from side to side. “It was before. It's what caused the crash. It's Crisa. Dammit, it's Crisa.”

She furrowed her brows as her eyes parted to tear-filled slits. “What's happening to her, Reaper? What's hurting her this way?”

“I don't know. But we're damn well going to find out.” He smoothed her hair away from her forehead.

“Can you see anything about where she is?”

She closed her eyes again, tried to focus, but he could see that the effort intensified the pain. “She's riding with someone. I can see the headlights, the road…wait…they're stopping.”

“Is there anything around them? Any landmarks that might tell us where she is?”

“She's going north.”

“I know, but—”

“She's getting out. The car's driving away, leaving her there. It has Connecticut plates.”

“Good. Good, that's helpful.”

She nodded. “She's walking now. Her head hurts, too, and her vision is blurring from the pain. She's crying, Reaper. And she's weak. God, we have to help her.”

“We will. We will. Just try to stay with her a little bit longer. What do you see?”

“It's a highway. It looks just like every other highway in the freaking—” She broke off there, and her brows drew together in a tight frown. “There's a sign.”

“What does it say?”

“Byram,” she whispered. “It says Byram.” Her face relaxed, and she released a long, staggering breath. When her eyes opened, they seemed clearer. “What's Byram?”

“Not the boy's name, apparently. I didn't put it together before. It's a town in Connecticut.” He helped her as she tried to sit up. “Is the pain easing?”

“Yeah. Mine is, anyway. The connection is broken. It's getting harder and harder to maintain it.” She rubbed her temples, took a few breaths. “Why is she going there, Reaper? What do you know about the place? What the hell is in Byram that could be exerting this kind of pull over her?”

He shook his head slowly. “I only know two things about Byram. One is that it's the former home of Eric Marquand, though he abandoned his house there years ago, once the government learned of its existence.”

“That could be no more than coincidence,” she said.

“What's the other?”

“It's where my former boss lives.”

She lifted her head, brows raised, staring at him.

“Your former boss…in the CIA?”

“Yeah. And that seems a little bit too coincidental.” He lowered his head. “I'm sorry, Briar. But I think there's a pretty good chance Derrick Dwyer is using Crisa to get to me. Somehow, he's done something to lure her there, knowing I'll follow.”

“How?”

“I'm about to find out.” He pulled a cell phone from his pocket, flipped it open and scrolled through a list until he found the number he sought. It was saved under the initials DD.

 

Derry's cell phone woke Matt up with its ringing. He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. One-thirty in the morning. He opened his eyes wide, his heart jumping into his chest, as he bounded from his bed, ran to Derry's which was completely blocking the bedroom door, and shook the man hard.

Derry opened his eyes. He was still hurting, Matt could tell. They'd met up with some woman earlier, and she'd done a pretty good job of patching him up, even giving him some pain pills, all without asking any questions. But she'd been looking at Matt oddly the whole time. After they'd left her apartment, Matt had asked Derry who she was, and he'd said, “A colleague. One I trust. That's all you need to know.”

Bleary-eyed now, Derry blinked Matt into focus.

“Your phone's ringing. Be careful, it's probably my dad. If he finds out where we are…”

Derry came fully awake and reached for the cell phone, which was on the bed beside him. He made a shushing motion, finger to his lips, glanced at the screen and read the words there.
Private Caller
.

He frowned, flipped it open and said, “Dwyer.”

Matt sat down on the floor close to him, closed his eyes and opened his mind. He had to be careful not to let on what he was doing. It would be better if he never let Derry find out about his gift. But he sighed in relief when he heard the voice on the other end and knew immediately that it was not his father.

“It's been a long time,” the voice said.

Matt opened his eyes to glance at Derry, and saw the surprise in his face.

“Reaper? Dammit, I've been turning over every rock in the country trying to find you. Where are you?”

“I'm tracking a friend of mine who's in trouble. But you know that, don't you?”

“I don't have a clue what you're talkin' about.”

Even without his skills, Matt would have been able to tell Derry was lying.

The man on the phone could tell, too. He said, “Then I've got no reason to talk to you. 'Bye, Derrick.”

“Wait! Wait. Okay, I know. You're talkin' about the girl. Crisa, right?”

“What the hell have you bastards done to her?”

Derry sighed. “Have the headaches started yet?”

“If you can call them headaches, you could call a hurricane a stiff breeze. She's in hell. What did you do to her, Dwyer?”

“Nothin' I can't undo, if I can get to her in time.”

“And what do you want in return?”

“I'll tell you that when you get here. Where are you?”

“I-95, border of Maryland and Jersey.”

“You can make it tonight, then.”

“Not without a car, I can't, and ours is embracing a tree at the moment.”

“I'll take care of that. I'll make a call and have a car waitin' for you at the rental agency in town. I'm assumin' you can make it that far.”

The man Derry called Reaper was quiet for a long moment. Then, finally, he said, “All right. Okay. I'll come in. But if this some kind of a trick, Dwyer, I swear…”

“I've always been on your side, Reaper. I've never pulled a fast one on you, you know that.”

“You never used to be the kind of man who would abuse an innocent to get what he wanted, either. I don't trust you anymore.”

“Then trust this,” Derry said. “I've got a much bigger priority here than bringin' you back into the fold for deprogrammin'. I've got a rogue on my hands, Reaper.”

“One you created and turned loose on the world. This is all your doing.”

“The agency's. Not mine. I was against this project from the beginnin'. But I have to put an end to it before any more people die. And I need your help to do it.”

“I've been hunting Gregor anyway, for reasons of my own.”

“Trust me, that's all I want from you right now. You have my word, I won't try to take you in. You can trust me on that.”

“You want my trust?”

“I know it's askin' a lot.”

“Tell me where he is, then. Where is Gregor?”

Derry shifted his glance toward Matt, so Matt pretended not to be paying attention. “He's here, in Byram.”

There was a sigh. Matt thought the guy didn't believe Derry. Then he said, “You don't need to use Crisa to get me there, Dwyer. I'm coming in. Whatever it is you're doing to her head, stop it.”

“I can't do that until she gets here. But when she does, I promise, I'll take care of it.” He sighed. “That's the best I can do, Reaper.”

“We'll be there by dawn. But we'll be holing up for the day.”

“I can offer you shelter.”

“I'll feel safer resting where you can't find me, so don't bother trying. I'll meet you after sunset.”

“All right. Call me then and I'll give you the address. Are you, um…are you comin' alone?”

“Yes. I'm coming alone.” But Matt got the clear feeling that he wasn't.

 

Reaper hung up the phone, got to his feet and reached a hand down for Briar. She ignored it and got up on her own. “Did you get all that?” he asked.

She nodded. “All except why you're trusting this jerk. And why you told him you were coming alone.”

“I'm trusting him because I don't have a choice. We have to get to Crisa.”

“And Gregor,” she said, lowering her eyes. “He's there, too.”

“If Dwyer's telling the truth, yes.”

She nodded.

“I'm going to kill him, you know. Whether you end up hating me for it or not, it's what needs to be done.”

She met his eyes, held them for a long moment and decided not to tell him that her only objection to that plan was that she would prefer to do the killing herself. And she intended to. But if believing she still had some twisted up feelings for Gregor would keep Reaper at arm's length for the remainder of their time together, it was for the best that he keep on believing it.

“You were faking before,” she said. “In the car, you pretended to lose consciousness when I took your blood.”

“If I hadn't, you'd have kept drinking until I lost it for real. I thought it would be best.”

She nodded.

“That wasn't very nice of you, Briar. Trying to knock me out.”

“I'm not a very nice person. Or haven't you figured that out yet?”

They began walking, heading for the nearby town where Dwyer had promised a car would be waiting. He didn't reach for her hand again. She told herself she was glad.

“You wanted to stop me from trying to see through the mask you wear. From probing your mind with mine.”

“I wanted to shut you up.”

“You screwed yourself over, though. You know that, right?”

She frowned and sent him a disgusted look. “I don't know any such thing.”

“No? Stop walking for a minute.”