Limitless (34 page)

“Oh.” I’d definitely forgotten about that. I tried to find a way to say it without sounding stupid, but came out with, “Well, I don’t know if that makes up for getting his apartment bombed…”

“His flat?” she scoffed. “That dreadful place? They probably would have done it anyway, since he was on the investigation. You saved his life.”

“Maybe,” I said, almost shrugging it off. “Doesn’t feel that way to me, though.”

She didn’t take her eyes off me. “That’s just guilt talking. I watched that interview with that awful Roth woman, the one you did a few months after things changed?”

I thought I tasted something sour in my mouth. “You and the rest of the world.”

“She was a perfect representation of the worst of people,” Marjorie said. “The absolute dregs of our nature. She turned everything around on you, and I’m glad you didn’t just sit there and take it. They live to see heroes fall, you know. It’s what makes them money—the tabloids and the telly, those vultures.”

I pursed my lower lip. “I don’t know how much of a hero I am, Marjorie.”

“Nonsense, dear,” she said, and reached out to pat my arm. “Can I get you some tea and biscuits?”

“Hello, there.” Matthew Webster’s voice chimed in, and I realized he’d slipped into the kitchen without me noticing.

“Uh… hey,” I said, before I could come up with something cooler.

“I’ve just realized,” Marjorie said, rummaging through the cupboards without looking back at us, “I’m all out of biscuits.” She shut the cabinet door and I saw her disappear toward the side of the house. “I’m off to the supermarket. Do either of you need anything?” She didn’t wait more than a second for our answer before I heard the door close, and I met Webster’s eyes as he smirked while we listened to the garage door go up.

“I got the guy,” I said, maybe with a little pride in a job well done.

“I heard about that,” Webster said. His arms were folded in front of him, and the way he was leaning against the door frame I noticed that he was wearing a pretty tight t-shirt. “Well done, carrying on in my absence, breaking the case. I’m a little confused, though—was he a terrorist with schemes of revenge?”

“A robber using revenge as his cover,” I said as he crossed over to me. “Very Hans Gruber. It was pretty clever on his part, but he got overconfident toward the end. It was his downfall.”

“Overconfidence can lead to that, I’ve heard.” He leaned against the back of the chair next to me. “And, uh… not to wade into those waters, but… it would appear I missed our date for yesterday.”

I stared into his eyes. “I think… we could probably reschedule. You know, since you had a concussion and all that.”

“Oh, well, the doctor has cleared me for duty,” he said, knocking a hand against the side of his head and grimacing. “Though I imagine it would have been a slightly different story if someone hadn’t carried me out of my flat before it exploded.”

“Any restrictions?” I asked, looking at the way he leaned. It was… kind of a suggestion all of its own.

“I am fit for anything,” Webster said, assuring me. “Though I’ll admit, I’m a bit curious about this whole… touching without touching thing you mentioned.”

“Ah,” I said. “Well…” I turned my head to indicate the direction his mother had gone. “How far away is the supermarket?”

“Oh, she’s gone for the afternoon,” he said, waving a hand behind him. “She’s got a reserve of biscuits to cover the end of the world. She left for our privacy.”

I felt a newfound respect for Marjorie blossoming in me, but it was somewhat quickly replaced by something else, a desire to fulfill a promise I’d made—quite eagerly. “Well, then, Detective Inspector,” I said, “in addition to the normal materials, I have to ask you… do you have any latex gloves?” I pulled out my most mischievous smile.

It turned out he did have some, by strange coincidence. We kept busy with each other until well after nightfall, and I fell asleep with him next to me, fully re-dressed. For safety’s sake, you know.

Chapter 86

Karthik listened to Janus shudder well into the night. He didn’t speak, just shook, making almost no noise. An occasional quiet groan escaped his lips, echoing in the dark. The smell of blood was still heavy in the air, neither of them in a fit state to clean. Karthik could taste it on his tongue, dripping down his throat. He lacked the will to fight his injuries and do anything about it. He could only watch, feeling his strength fade, until finally he passed out somewhere in the night himself.

He was awakened by Janus shaking him, the old man’s breath heavy with blood. Or was it his own body, still healing, that gave off that smell? Either way, Janus was shaking him awake, murmuring quietly.

“What?” Karthik found himself asking. The gentle jarring was only enough to disquiet him, not enough to distress him. “You’re safe now, Janus.” He had a feeling this nightmare would recur. He’d seen the look in Janus’s eyes when Sienna had brought him back, knew a haunting lay within. But now they were different. Wild.

“Did you tell her?” Janus asked, barely speaking audibly.

“You mean the woman with the knives?” Karthik asked, still feeling the pain of his wounds and the bleary edge of the sleep he’d happily embraced.

“No,” Janus said, shaking his head. “No, not her. She’s dead, what do I care if she knew? No… I’m talking about Sienna. Did you tell Sienna?”

Karthik listened carefully, processing the older man’s words until the light came on for him. “No, no, I did not tell her. Not a word.”

Janus’s posture sagged, and the fire that burned in his wide eyes died down. He relaxed, sliding back to the concrete floor and huddling there, arms around his knees like a child. “That’s… that’s good. She can’t know. Not about this.” Karthik watched him stare off into the distance, at the red splotch on the concrete wall where the woman with the knives had died, and listened as Janus continued to mutter to himself, that breath of lucidity gone as quickly as it had come.

Chapter 87

I left early the next morning. I thought about checking on Janus before I left, but I’d burned more time in England than I had available, so there wasn’t time to say goodbye. Besides, I wasn’t a psychologist, and whatever damage he had experienced wasn’t something I could easily fix. When I’d parted ways with Karthik before I’d returned to New Scotland Yard to make my report, I’d told him I’d check in on them via phone when I got home. I already knew that I’d offer to bring Janus to the Agency for care, and if Karthik wanted to take the offer, I’d be fine with it.

It was the least I could do for Janus after all we’d been through.

I’d parted ways with Webster on good terms. The best, really, since we’d had a repeat the morning before I’d left. He was a quick learner, and he dealt with the constraints against direct skin-to-skin contact like a champ, figuring out exactly what to do to maximize the experience for both of us. If the United Kingdom hadn’t just happily kicked out my entire species, I might have already been planning my next trip back.

If I could find the time in my schedule, I might have to come back regardless.

I headed southeast out of London, flying until I saw the channel, and crossed before the sun was fully up. I kept low, not chancing setting off radar for most of Europe. I had one last nagging thing that needed to be dealt with, and I meant to do it before I blew back across the pond.

I took my time, stayed subsonic, and dipped down to look at road signs when necessary. Air navigation without signs or GPS isn’t exactly the easiest thing in the world to manage. I crossed the border into Switzerland sometime around mid-morning, and by the time I’d found my destination, it was getting close to noon.

I made my landing in an alley just down the street from a lovely old building in Vaduz, Liechtenstein. I checked the blood-stained scrap of paper that I’d kept in my coat’s inner pocket, just to be certain I had the right place. Once I was sure, I walked in through the lobby of one of the nicest banks I’d ever seen.

It was pretty impressive, I must say. It wasn’t full opulence on display or anything, but they had nice paintings on the walls, the furniture in the lobby was top notch, and the man waiting to greet guests at the door wore a polite smile even for me, and I suspected it wasn’t because of how nicely I was dressed, with my coat still riddled with holes and all.

“Madam Nealon, if I am not mistaken,” he said with a thick German accent.

“You know me,” I said, nodding as I took in my surroundings.

“I do indeed,” he said, with a subtle nod of the head. “And I know you are with American law enforcement. I welcome you to Liechtenstein, and hope you will have a wonderful stay with us. My name is Nils.” His smile now looked forced. “What can I do for you?”

I held up the blood-stained scrap of paper that had his bank’s name on it with an account number. “I don’t know if you heard, Mr. Nils, but I had a little trouble in London yesterday with the owner of this account.”

His face did not waver, though his smile slightly dimmed. “I’m afraid I cannot discuss matters regarding any of our customers with American law enforcement officers, not even to confirm or deny. We prize confidentiality about all else.”

I stared into his smoky eyes. “How do you verify the identity of your account holders?”

That got him to raise an eyebrow. “As I said, we prize confidentiality.” He fidgeted slightly. “However, speaking in a general sense, many of our account holders are anonymous, interacting with us via the internet, making transfers as necessary. It has been a boon, I think you would call it.” His smile grew flat. “This has left us in the unique position of not always knowing our clients’ identities.”

“Who owns this account?” I asked again, pointing at the account number.

His lips wavered, just the slightest bit. “I am afraid I cannot cooperate with you. It is nothing personal, but we do not discuss our clientele with outside parties, especially law enforcement officers for foreign countries, and our laws do not compel us to—”

“You know who I am,” I said, dull intonation ringing out. “You know what I can do, yes?” I leaned closer, and he did not flinch away, though I saw he had to try mightily not to. “What I could do to you?”

He held himself straighter than I would have thought he would have. I could see guards easing out of the wings, and he looked with me, shaking his head to warn them off. “
Ja, Fraulein
. I know who you are. I know what you could—and would—do to me were you to turn loose your wrath. But I cannot give you what you want.”

I stared him down, looking for a hint of weakness. There was none, not a bit, not even beneath the plain, vanilla fear that covered him from head to toe.

“Fair enough,” I said and relaxed, easing back from him a little. I saw his posture change, the fear dissolving just slightly. “I need to talk to you in private.”

He grew stiff again. “I am sorry, Ms. Nealon, but I cannot give you the information you ask for. To compromise our clients by cooperating with foreign law enforcement is anathema to—”

“I’m not here to talk to you as a law enforcement officer, Mr. Nils,” I said, shaking my head. I felt a tingle of nerves as I drew slow breath.

“Oh?” His eyebrow raised again, curiosity plain as he prepared to reach for the bait I dangled in front of him. “Then what are you here to talk about?”

I reached into my coat again and pulled out the second part of the blood-stained paper I’d taken off Philip Delsim’s corpse. The one that contained his password to access his account. “Retirement planning,” I said, staring at the banker. “I’ve got a future to consider.”

Chapter 88

I left Liechtenstein hours later, the sun already down and with a few dollars and euros in my pocket after I’d made a quick stop and gotten some clothes. Nils had done me a favor in this; we’d had a discussion that went very late, and he’d had the owner of a local boutique open her doors just for me. I’d gone simple this time—black pants, a dark tank top, and a watch I’d picked up on my way out. Figured it’d help to gauge my flying time if I strayed off course over the North Atlantic.

I went supersonic over the Alps and went “feet wet” over the Atlantic a little while later. I could only tell after I’d caught the moonlight reflecting on the surface of the ocean below. I was hauling ass, going about as fast as I wanted to be traveling. The air was cold, but I didn’t care. I kept Aleksandr Gavrikov close to the surface of my mind and let my skin heat up to near-flaming whenever the chill got to be too much.

I made landfall somewhere over Virginia late. I was racing sunset, trying to see if I could catch the glowing edge of the horizon before I made it to Minneapolis.

Looking at my watch, I figured I’d missed it by a half hour or so when I landed outside of town. I stopped somewhere in Dinkytown, pausing for a breath on top of one of the big residential buildings on the east bank of the Mississippi as I stared into the downtown skyline, lit up for the night.

My town. My city.

I’d failed to place the proper limits on myself and I’d ended up dragging my ass all over hell and gone for some really stupid reasons, exhausting myself and completely burning down to nothing.

But here… this was where I was supposed to be. Minneapolis was the city I owed my debt to. Not like I wanted to see anyone else in the world get hurt, but I needed to start doing a better job of focusing on what mattered. I needed to stop seeing how much of myself I could roast off before there was nothing left.

My city.

My life.

It was time to recognize my limits.

With a last look, I vaulted back into the sky and flew over downtown on my way home.

Chapter 89

I landed on the roof of the dorm because I didn’t want to break my own sliding glass door to get into my apartment. Stupid, I know, locking it when I knew I was going to be out, but I was obsessive compulsive that way. It’s not like it would even prevent a halfway dedicated meta from gaining access to my quarters, but I still locked my doors anyway. Call me crazy.