Guardian Angel (32 page)

Read Guardian Angel Online

Authors: Adrian Howell

BOOK: Guardian Angel
11.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“We’re making good time,” said Terry, using her hook to steer the SUV around a gentle curve in the road. “We might even be in Wood-claw for breakfast tomorrow.”

Sitting beside her, I had been lost in my dismal thoughts as I watched the dark gray countryside drifting by. I turned to her and smiled. “It’d be nice to have a normal breakfast for a change.”

“Agreed, but you know we can’t stay in Wood-claw for very long. We need to find that Royal Gate somehow.”

Terry had said that more than once on the road so far. But “somehow” wasn’t a proven method for finding something.

“I sure hope Mrs. Harding can help,” I said. It wasn’t the first time I had said this either, but it was the only response I could give.

Terry wasn’t just making conversation, though.

“If the Council really had heard of the Royal Gate,” she continued, “and if they knew where it was, then they would have hit it by now. They probably don’t even know of its existence. We can ask, but don’t expect a miracle.”

“I never ask for miracles,” I informed her.

“We may need one before long, Adrian,” said Terry. “Ever since the Meridian folded, our allies are disappearing fast and quiet. Even if the Resistance and the Council don’t surrender, it won’t matter soon.”

I knew that. “What’s your point?”

Terry kept her eyes on the road as she said quietly, “Maybe it’s time to try something crazy.”

“Such as?”

“Not everyone fighting the Angels is allied with the Guardians. If our friends can’t help, then maybe our enemies can.”

I was usually the one to come up with the wild ideas, but it still took a moment before I fully understood what Terry was suggesting.

“No,” I said flatly.

“They may not be psionic, Adrian, but they’re the biggest faction left,” argued Terry. “They have a fairly extensive information network. Maybe not as complete as the Guardians’, but that’s precisely the point. They could have stumbled across something that they themselves don’t fully understand.”

“You really want to ask the God-slayers for help?” I asked incredulously. “You’re insane.”

Terry seemed to smile. “Then I’m in good company.”

“I’m not going to beg the Slayers for anything, Terry. Not ever.”

“Why not?” scoffed Terry. “You made nice with the Wolves, didn’t you?”

“The Wolves are soldiers!” I countered vehemently. “The Slayers are just psychopaths.”

“Well-funded and dedicated psychopaths,” said Terry. “And their cause is not that different from ours anymore. If we offered them the chance to kill the world’s last master controller, I’ll bet they’d help us.”

“No.”

“A master controller, Adrian! You think they wouldn’t side with us for that? Come on, it’s not like you have any real principles left to break anyway.”

I glared at her. “Have you forgotten what they did to me?”

“Have you forgotten what we did to them?” Terry replied evenly.

I looked away. My slightly sunken, mismatching eyes reflected in the window stared back at me.

“Let’s at least try our luck with the Council first,” I said wearily.

“Of course,” Terry replied with an air of victory. “I was just considering options.”

“You mean you were testing my resolve,” I said dryly, finally realizing that she had set me up. “You really think I want this mission to fail, don’t you?”

“I didn’t say that,” said Terry. “I’m just worried about you.”

“Well, don’t worry,” I said. “I still know how to kill people.”

“I hope that’s true.”

Ever since returning from the Historian’s mountain, my mission rules had been pretty straightforward: One, kill the Angel master. Two, don’t get converted. Three, save Cindy. Four, return Alia. And five, if at all possible, get through this alive. But my inability to kill Raider, the Historian’s dream and Alia’s insistence on truth had forced me to acknowledge that I had one more rule: Don’t kill Cat. This one had also been there from the start.

No, I didn’t want our mission to fail, but nor could I allow it to succeed. And I still had no idea what would really happen if I came face to face with my first sister like this. So, in short, yes, Terry was right to be concerned.

Even so, I felt incredibly stupid for stepping into her little trap. But if Terry thought that it was okay to challenge my commitment by bringing up something as painful to me as the God-slayers, then I was going to have my say too.

“Now you tell me something, Terry,” I breathed. “What really happened back in the command center?”

“What do you mean?” asked Terry. She tried to make it sound innocent, but I could tell that she was bracing herself.

“You’ve been itching for a battle all last year,” I said. “I know you wished you were on that Wolf plane with us. And I’ve never seen you miss an opportunity to kill some Angels.”

“What happened in Nonus wasn’t an opportunity, Adrian,” Terry said stiffly. “It was a deathtrap. If we hadn’t retreated, we would have all died in there. Every last one of us.”

“Still, that was a pretty quick retreat.”

Terry shook her head. “When Mark led us to the trapdoor, I thought you were right behind us. I was so sure you had heard James and me calling. We were both yelling like crazy. But when we got down to the twentieth, you weren’t there.”

“So why didn’t you come back? Why did you send James?”

“Are you questioning my honor?!” snapped Terry.

“I’m just curious, Terry,” I said in a monotone. “You gave your gun to James and sent him back in.”

“Because he insisted! Because he wanted to prove something, and…”

“Terry!”

Suddenly Terry pulled the SUV to the side of the road. “You want to know what really happened?” she asked, her voice quivering. “The truth? The truth is that I froze up. I was scared, alright?! It was just a second, but James saw it. He told me to give him my gun, and I did.”

I nodded silently.

Terry looked away as she mumbled, “I tried to justify it by thinking it was a firefight, not a brawl, and since James had two hands to use two guns, he had a better chance. But that’s just stupid. You’re right, Adrian. I should have gone back in with him.”

“I didn’t say that,” I insisted. “I was just curious why you didn’t.”

“I never thought I’d hesitate,” Terry said with a sigh, and then let out a hollow little laugh. “Maybe I’m just getting old.”

I smiled sympathetically. “I think you’re only human, Terry.”

“It won’t happen again. I swear it won’t.”

“Hey,” Ed Regis called sleepily from the back. “What’s going on? Why are we stopped?”

“Nothing,” I replied. “We’re just making sure that we’re both still cold-blooded murderers. Go back to sleep.”

As Terry pulled our vehicle back onto the road, I looked down at my hands and sighed heavily. I wondered if I could ever look at my hands again without remembering the people I had killed with them. I wondered how many more lives I had yet to take.

By daybreak, we had arrived back on the outskirts of Wood-claw’s city. It was much too early to check in at a hotel and we weren’t sure we would need one anyway. Terry parked the SUV on the roadside and swapped places with Ed Regis so that she could sleep a little as we waited for our Wood-claw escorts. I didn’t feel particularly sleepy myself until I heard Terry snoring in the back.

When I woke, it was past noon and we were still parked.

“They haven’t come yet, Adrian,” said Ed Regis, still sitting next to me in the driver’s seat.

Terry, Alia and I had stopped draining ourselves as soon as we entered the city, so Scott should have found us by now.

“Well, that’s Harding for you,” I muttered as I stretched my arms and legs a little. Then I let out a loud, deliberate and annoyed yawn. We had driven all night so that we could deliver our warning to the Resistance as soon as possible, but now we were at the mercy of Mrs. Harding’s excruciatingly unhurried security protocols.

We ate lunch in the car, and then Ed Regis drove us to a nearby hotel.

The layout was basically the same as the last time: Ed Regis got us two twin rooms, and like before, they were side by side on the second floor with balconies that looked down onto the parking lot.

“We’re out of cash,” announced Ed Regis as we inspected our rooms. “We won’t be able to stay two nights here.”

“Don’t worry,” Terry said confidently. “They’ll come today. Who knows? We might even be in Wood-claw in time for dinner tonight.”

Terry had said something similar last night about breakfast. “What makes you such an optimist?” I asked her.

Terry smirked. “Because Scott and the others won’t leave us out here no matter what Harding says.”

The hotel staff had provided a cot for Marion in the girls’ room, but even if we ended up staying the night, I knew it wouldn’t be used. Marion and Alia would share a bed again, which was probably a good thing for Alia too, since she so liked being needed.

Once we were settled, we passed the time with a deck of cards and a few bags of chips. Even Marion joined us, and though she still spoke mostly in whispers, just occasionally, she smiled a little.

Though I would never mourn her father’s passing, I still felt horrible every time I looked at Marion. Terry was far better at guilt management than me. If Terry felt at all sorry for leaving Marion fatherless, she didn’t show it. She could talk to Marion and treat her like a friend. I still couldn’t meet Marion’s eyes. And though I knew that I still had a much harder (and more likely impossible) mission ahead of me, my current primary objective was to see Marion safely delivered back to her Angel mother. That much I felt I owed to her, and to her father. I hoped that Mrs. Harding would agree.

“They’re here,” announced Alia, who had been peeking down from the balcony every time she heard a car pull into the parking lot.

It was still early evening, so it looked like we really would make it back to Wood-claw in time for dinner. That is, assuming we were all going to be taken in together this time. However, my hopes for that were dampened the moment I saw who had arrived to guide us in. Neither Scott nor Rachael, nor any of our former combat students were part of the welcoming party. Instead, Wood-claw had sent four serious-looking men, and to top it all off, they were once again led by the ill-tempered Knight, Hammer.

“Back without warning, I see,” said Hammer as he and his buddies entered our room.

“You haven’t heard anything about the Resistance?” I asked.

“Nothing recent,” replied Hammer.

I wasn’t too surprised about that considering how long it usually took for Wood-claw to communicate with the Resistance. Besides, with the command center down, most of the Resistance fighters were probably still hiding in their safe houses.

Hammer added brusquely, “Whatever your news is, it can wait till we get you back to Wood-claw and you can tell Mrs. Harding yourself.”

“Well, let’s get going, then,” said Terry.

“You two first,” said Hammer, pointing at Terry and me. “The others can wait.”

I shook my head. “If only two are going, I want Marion to go first. She can go with Terry.”

“Don’t you contradict me, young man,” said Hammer, bristling. “I said you and Terry first, and that’s the way it’s going to be.”

I wasn’t worried about leaving Alia behind, but the sooner we got Marion to safety, the sooner I would feel comfortable about this whole nasty mess. Besides, I didn’t like Hammer’s tone any more than he liked mine.

“Might I remind you that we are guests of Mrs. Harding,” I said coldly. “We are not under her command. Nor yours, Hammer.”

Hammer’s scowl deepened for a moment. Then he let out a dismissive little grunt. “Suit yourself, kid. Terry and… who the hell is Marion?”

I pointed her out, saying, “It’s a long story.”

Hammer turned to one of his teammates, a hider I knew by the call sign Jerky. “You’ll stay here with me, Jerk,” said Hammer. Then he said to his two other Knights, “You guys get these girls to Wood-claw and come right back. I don’t want to stay here all night if we can help it.”

Marion was hesitant to leave Alia’s side, but Alia said something into her head and then Terry took her hand and escorted her from the hotel room. I followed them out to the parking lot. Marion refused to get into the Wood-claw van, anxiously looking up at Alia, who was waving to her from the balcony.

“Don’t worry, Marion,” I said as Terry pushed her into the car. “Alia will be right behind you.”

“Thank you, Richard,” whispered Marion, giving me a faint smile. “I mean Addy.”

I nodded and said dully, “We’ll see you soon.”

Then I turned to Terry, but before I could say anything, she said, “Trust me. I’ll talk to Harding as soon as I get there. We’ll get the message out to the Resistance if I have to deliver it myself.”

“See you later tonight,” I said, and watched them go.

“Come on,” I heard Hammer call from the balcony. “Get back up here.”

Back in our room, I asked Hammer, “How long do you think it’ll take?”

“As long as it takes,” he replied gruffly.

“Probably not before midnight,” added Jerky.

I didn’t want to judge Hammer too harshly. I could only guess that Wood-claw, like all the other independent factions out there that were still free of Angel control, was having to take increasingly serious measures to ensure its security.

We didn’t even have any cash left for dinner, but Hammer sent Jerky off to get some takeout, and the five of us resumed our card game after burgers and fries.

I figured that, by now, the advance team would have reached the Wood-claw building. Marion was probably already in Candace’s capable hands while Terry spoke to Mrs. Harding about the possible threat to the Resistance from Raider’s mapping mission.

But once that issue was dealt with, what next? Though I still couldn’t be entirely sure that Terry wasn’t joking about asking the God-slayers for help, I had to agree that the Guardian Council probably couldn’t help us find the Royal Gate. Nor, for that matter, was there any guarantee that the Slayers could help. Were we back to square one, doomed to randomly travel around the country looking for lost clues and hoping for lucky breaks?

Other books

Haunted by Melinda Metz - Fingerprints - 2
Masters of the House by Robert Barnard
No Return by Zachary Jernigan
Aced by Ella Frank, Brooke Blaine
Lost Pueblo (1992) by Grey, Zane
Dream Warrior by Sherrilyn Kenyon