Angel's Pain (19 page)

“Then we'll just have to get to him first,” Reaper said.

“Where is he?”

Dwyer swallowed hard. “I'm goin' to need…protection.”

Briar released a bark of disbelief. “Yeah. From me, you bastard.”

He ignored her, staring up at Reaper. “I knew you were comin' here tonight. I didn't have an ambush waitin'. I didn't even inform the agency you'd be here. I've told you things that are highly classified, Reaper. They'll kill me for this. And Gregor—”

“Gregor's my problem now. I'll deal with him. As for protecting you—”

“Don't you even think about it, Reaper,” Briar whispered.

He glanced at her, held up a hand. “You've used and basically tortured one of my own, Dwyer. Crisa's an innocent. You nearly got Jack and Topaz killed in Mexico. Your men tortured Jack so badly I wasn't sure he would survive.”

“I didn't sanction that.”

“Your men. Your responsibility. You've gone too far to ask for my help now.”

“It's more than that, Reaper,” Briar said.

Reaper turned and met her eyes. “Don't—”

“We can't leave him alive, and you know it.”

Reaper closed his eyes briefly, and Briar felt the tiniest stab of regret, knowing this man had been his friend once. But facts were facts, and she was too practical to ignore them. “His cronies will catch up with him before this night is out. He'll tell them where we've gone, what we're doing, and they'll be on us before we know it. Who the hell is going to save Crisa then? What's going to happen to Ilyana's kid if Gregor gets him back again?”

Reaper's eyes narrowed as he studied her.

“If you kill me, Crisa will die,” Dwyer said.

Briar felt her eyes widen, and with a swing of her arm she shoved Reaper aside and gripped Dwyer by the nape of his neck, jerking him to his feet. “I'm getting really tired of listening to your bullshit, you know that?”

“It's the truth!” He didn't struggle, probably knew it was useless to try. His eyes were wide with fear, though. He knew he was staring death in the face. “The chip is beginning to deteriorate, releasing toxic metals into her brain, into her bloodstream. It has to be removed, and soon, or it'll kill her. And I'm the only one who knows how to do it.”

“I'm sure we can find a qualified surgeon to take care of Crisa,” Briar said, and she bared her fangs, tilted her head, opened her mouth.

Reaper's hand landed on her shoulder. “Are you willing to bet Crisa's life on it?” he asked her softly. She hesitated. He felt her wavering and went on. “Briar, we need him. At least until she's safe.”

“If we leave him alive—”

“We'll take him with us,” he said.

“He'll slow us down.”

“It's…not that far. Honestly,” Dwyer said. He was begging for his life, and Briar knew it.

She straightened her head and looked him dead in the eye. “I'm going to kill you for what you did to Crisa. And I'm going to enjoy it. Don't you even doubt that. You're on borrowed time, Mr. Dwyer.” She released her grip on his nape and his head snapped backward, he'd been pulling so hard against her hold.

Fear in his eyes, he rubbed his neck with one hand and said, “If you're going to kill me anyway, then what reason do I have to help Crisa at all?”

“You son of a bitch!” Reaper whirled on him, but it was Briar who stepped in front of him, preventing the assault.

“Because if you let her die, your death is going to be far less pleasant, my friend.”

“I'm no friend of yours.”

Pushing a hand through his hair, Reaper turned his back to them both. He was shaking with pent-up rage and frustration. And something else.

Briar started as she probed his mind and realized what it was. It was fear. He, Reaper, the lone hit man, the most fearless bastard she'd ever met in her life, was freaking afraid of this weak, wounded mortal.

And then it hit her why. Dwyer knew the trigger words. The one that would send Reaper into an uncontrollable rage, and the second one, the one that would pull him right back out of it again. He could control Reaper as surely as Gregor could control Crisa through that chip in her brain.

“Where is Gregor?” Reaper asked Dwyer, focusing again on the business at hand, pushing his own fear aside, though the awareness of it remained at the forefront of Briar's.

“He's staying out at the old Marquand Mansion, on the peninsula.”

“The
Eric
Marquand Mansion?” Reaper asked.

“Yeah.”

Reaper nodded slowly. “All right, then. Let's go.”

“He'll probably be expecting you.”

“Of course he'll be expecting me. That's been his plan the whole time, hasn't it? To get his hands on Crisa in order to lure me to him? Looks like it's worked. But he's not getting out of this alive. Not this time.” Reaper slid a look at Briar. “I'm sorry, Briar, but that's the way this has to end. Gregor has to die.”

She frowned and tipped her head to one side. And another revelation came clear to her. He really believed she cared about that bastard.

Well, hell, that was what she'd wanted him to think, wasn't it? It was a way to keep him at a distance, a way to convince him that his desire for her was never going anywhere. That she would never feel anything for him.

And that was still true. She couldn't feel anything…for him or for any other man. Men had taken that ability away from her. She'd given it up willingly, as her only defense against them. They could take her physically, yes, but nothing more. There would never be anything more.

Not for her.

 

Matt drove as best he could, but he wasn't doing great. He could barely see over the steering wheel, and even at his age, he knew thirty miles per hour wasn't going to get them very far very fast.

Crisa sat in the passenger seat, her head in her hands, moaning more loudly with every mile that passed.

She kept lifting her head every little while and staring into nothingness, saying the word
no
. Like she was having some kind of inner argument with herself.

At length he pulled the car over into a wide spot on the side of the road that looked as if it were meant for that purpose. Not a real rest stop, of course. No restrooms or maps or vending machines. Just a worn dirt semicircle off the side of the road and boasting a beat-up payphone.

When the car came to a stop, Crisa lifted her head. “Why are we stopping?”

“Because the highway is up ahead. And I don't know which way to go.”

“South.” She blinked slowly. “I said
no!”

Matt frowned. “Crisa?”

“God, it hurts,” she whimpered. Tears were streaming from her eyes, flowing like rivers down her face.

“Crisa, I'm sure my mom will be able to find someone who can help you. But we have to figure out how to get there. 'Cause if we take the highway, I think we're going to get pulled over pretty quick. I mean, I can't go faster than thirty or so, and the cops are bound to notice us crawling along when every other car is going seventy.”

“North Carolina,” she whispered.

“Okay, but where in North Carolina?”

She leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. Matt grabbed the road atlas he'd found on the backseat and flipped to the first big map in the thing, a map of the entire United States. He found Connecticut, then looked for North Carolina. And then he blinked.

“Man, it's a long, long ways to North Carolina, Crisa. Farther than I thought.”

“I know.”

“I don't think I can drive that far.”

“I can't drive at all,” she said. “I can barely see. Every time I tell him no, the pain gets worse.”

He frowned and reached out to touch her shoulder. “Maybe you should stop telling him no, then.” He sighed. “Derry says that with vampires, there's always one person—one of the Chosen—that they feel closest to. Sort of connected to, you know? He thought I was that one for you.”

She squeezed her eyes tighter. “That makes sense, I guess.”

“Well, that explains why you knew I needed help. And why you're letting my dad hurt you like that, instead of just doing what he says.”

“He's bad,” she said. “I know he's bad. I can feel it.”

“What's he telling you to do, Crisa?”

She grimaced and began to sob softly.

Matt rubbed her shoulder. “Come on, you can tell me. You have to tell me, right? We're in this together now.”

She nodded, sniffled. “H-he says I have to bring you to him before morning.”

Matt felt his heart trip over itself inside his chest.

“He says he'll make the pain worse until it kills me if I don't. He says he can. He says we're going the wrong way. He says we have to turn around. But I won't. I won't, Matt. I won't take you to the bad man. No matter what he does, I won't.”

Matt's eyes got hot, as he watched her there, suffering. No one had ever cared about him that much, at least no one besides his mom. God, he wished she were there to tell him what to do.

“Maybe we should just do what he says,” he said softly.

“He'll hurt you.”

“No, he won't. He won't hurt me. He'll hurt
you
, though. Maybe you should take me back. Just…not all the way. Just partway, and then you can hide out someplace, and I'll go the rest of the way alone, and maybe—”

“No.”

“But, Crisa, you're sick. You're getting worse.”

She shook her head from side to side, very slowly.

“We can't even be sure it
is
your father. What if Derry was lying? What if it's someone else? Someone who
would
hurt you?”

He drew a deep breath, sighed, and decided to share his secret for the first time ever. “Crisa, I'm kind of…special.”

She opened her eyes wider and gazed at him as if she were looking at the baby Jesus lying in the manger or something. “I know you are,” she said, and she ran a hand over his hair.

“I mean, more than you know. I can kind of…read people's thoughts sometimes.”

She frowned at him. “I thought only vampires could do that.”

“No, there are regular people who can do it, too. I've always known how. As long as I can remember, anyway. Mom knew about it, but no one else. She told me to keep it to myself. So I never told anyone. Not my dad, even.”

“It's probably smart not to tell. People can be…awful…when you're different.”

“Have people been awful to you?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yeah. Before. You know, before I was a vampire, and before I found Rey-Rey. He took care of me. But then he died, and I went with Briar.”

“Briar?” He frowned. He'd only known of one woman named Briar. A vampire, part of his father's gang. And he'd only glimpsed her from a distance, but from what he'd seen, she was dangerous. Evil.

“I was dying, and she saved me,” Crisa said.

“Huh. Must be a different Briar than the one I was thinking of.”

“She and the others took me with them. They looked out for me, the way Rey-Rey used to do. But then all this started, and…I left them.” She lifted her head. “Your mom is with them, too.”

“And they're vampires?”

“All but your mom and Roxy. Roxy and your mom are pretty close.”

“So these vampires…they've got my mom and this other woman? Roxy?”

She frowned at him. “Oh, it's not like that. They're friends. They're all friends.”

He narrowed his eyes, trying to picture friendly vampires and failing miserably. Dwyer had said there were good vampires, but Dwyer had said a lot of things, and he had trouble imagining any such thing could exist. Except for Crisa. But she was different.

“Crisa, since we have this…connection and I can read thoughts, maybe I could listen in when this guy is talking to you. Then we can tell for sure if it's my father. Do you think that would work?”

She blinked at him. “Maybe. Only he's stopped talking now.” She frowned hard. “And the pain has stopped, too.”

“Ever since we stopped the car, I'll bet.”

“Yes! How did you know?”

“He must know where we are, where we're going.” Eyes widening, he asked, “Can he hear what we're saying?”

“Only when I'm talking to him—thinking at him, really.”

“You stopped heading away from him, so he must think you're changing your mind, thinking about taking me to him, doing what he says.”

“Oh.” She thought for a minute. “So if we start driving again, he'll talk to me again. And make it hurt again.”