Smoke and Shadows (34 page)

“. . . twenty-eight Raymond Dark, twenty-nine Raymond Dark, thirty.” Tony dried damp palms against his thighs and squared his shoulders. “Ready or not, here I come.” He hoped a thirty-second lead was enough time for Henry to take care of things—not that it mattered if it wasn't. The big lamp had to be in place and ready to go when the gate opened.

He thumbed on the flashlight, pointed it at the floor, and headed for the light board.

Not the wizard. A girl, Tony's age. She had the raincoat shoved back and her hands deep in the front pockets of a pair of bib overalls. As Henry stopped at the edge of the open set—she was standing where they needed her to be, he had no need to go any farther—she shifted her weight back and forth from one red high-top to the other. Impatience, not anticipation. She couldn't know he was . . .

When the lights came on, the last thing Henry saw before being flung to the floor was her smile.

Lights?

Tony blinked toward the spill of lights from the dining room set.

Why would Henry turn on the lights?

Answer: Henry wouldn't.

He started to run.

Henry struggled against the shadow that wrapped around him from wrist to cheekbones; his arms held to his sides, his mouth and nose covered. It bulged but held.

When the girl squatted beside him, the shadow squirmed off his ears.

“We left a guard on the gate,” she said conversationally. “It wasn't here, so someone had to have destroyed it. If someone knew how to do that, then that same someone knew way, way too much and would likely be back. Hello, someone. I was waiting for you. You should've checked for traps.” Her smile broadened as she held up the remote switch she'd used to turn on the lights. “You'll be unconscious soon, and then you'll be dead.”

Not soon. Definitely not before the gate opened. Although Henry needed to breathe, the air in his lungs would last him long enough. He could hear cables hitting the floor, the lamp's wheeled platform moving. All he had to do was lie here, listen to the shadow-held gloat, and wait for the gate to open. The shadow would attempt to leave, Tony would hit it with the light, and he'd be released. A slightly less dignified scenario, granted, but it would get the job done. And a good thing, too, since the tensile strength of shadow meant he wouldn't be doing the superman-breaking-his-bonds thing any time soon.

Her smile slipped and her eyes narrowed. “You're different.”

He fought to keep the Hunger from showing, but it was still too close to the surface. Tina had helped but not enough.

“Nightwalker.” One finger flipped a strand of his hair back and forth. “This one doesn't believe in you, but I wouldn't be too upset about that since she doesn't believe in me either. It's all metaphors and symbolism in here.” The plastic raincoat crinkled as she leaned forward, one hand going to the floor beside his head to keep from overbalancing. “What's it like in there, I wonder? I imagine you've got a better grip on what's real. Shall we find out? Besides, it's always smartest to take over the strong. Makes it harder for the weak to stop you.”

From the corner of one eye, Henry noticed a patch of darkness under the huge rectory table. Dark enough? Only one way to find out. Rolling seemed to be his only option.

“Oh, no, you . . .”

He was under the table before she finished her protest. He felt the binding ease—apparently it was
just
dark enough—and he ripped his way free; aware he was snarling as he got to his feet but not really caring.

Her lip curled in answer. “A creature of darkness fighting for the light? That's not how it works where I come from.”

“It's how it works here.”

She flashed him a cheeky smile and turned to run;
Chase me, chase me!
so strongly implied she might as well have shouted it aloud. Henry held the hunter in check, dodged the cast shadow she was attempting to distract him from, and stood in front of her before she could turn again. “Apparently my kind move slower where you come from.”

She stiffened in his grip, her eyes staring at nothing as the shadow within her began to rip free.

Vibration in blood and bone announced the opening of the gate.

“Henry! Close your eyes!”

Even through closed lids the world turned a brilliant white. Tears streaming down his cheeks, Henry threw the girl forward, dropped to his knees and buried his face in his arms.

After a long moment, the light turned off.

“It's okay. You can look up now.” Figuring Henry could take care of himself, Tony ran across the set toward Kate Anderson's crumpled body. She was Mouse's focus puller and that was the only thing Tony knew about her. Muttering, “Not again!” over and over like a mantra against a worst-case scenario, he dropped to his knees, rolled her onto her back, and felt for a heartbeat. Lost it in the screaming pain still vibrating his skull. Found it again.

“She's alive.”

“Yeah.” Tugging the raincoat back into place, he looked up at Henry. “Why did you throw her?”

“I hoped that being right under the gate would activate the shadow's primary function—to return home with information—and keep it from remembering that it was heading for me. Seems to have . . .”

“Not real. Not real. Not real!” One hand clamped around Tony's arm, the other grabbed for the collar of his shirt. Kate's pupils had contracted down to black pinpricks and her eyes were opened painfully wide. “Not real!”

“Sorry.” Tony wasn't sure why he was apologizing; it just seemed the thing to do. Then he remembered. “Henry, we don't have any potion, the cops dumped it. We didn't even stop to buy vodka!” Dropping his ass to the floor, he dragged her up onto his lap. “You're going to have to vamp her!”

Kate's heels began to drum as Henry dropped down by her other side. “To what?”

“You know, touch the primal terror. Convince her you're real and that'll help her deal with the rest!”

His mouth slightly open, Henry stared at him, his expression caught halfway between astonishment and amazement. “And if she can't deal with me?” he asked after a long moment.

“Jesus, Henry, she's twenty-three years old and you're . . . you. Just crank up the sex appeal!”

Shaking his head, Henry took hold of the girl's jaw. “Do you have any idea of what you're talking about?”

“Hell, no! I'm making it up as I go along. Do you have a better idea?” he asked as Henry stared down into Kate's face. “Or
any
other idea?”

“No.”

“Then what can we lose? Damn it, Henry, there's already two people dead!”

Henry looked up at him then, his eyes dark, and, after a moment, he said, “What's her name?”

“Kate.” Tony grunted as a plastic clad elbow drove into one of the bruises Mouse had pounded into him.

“Catherine?”

“Could be.”

“Kate, then.” Henry bent his head toward hers and called her name.

Tony stiffened. Literally stiffened. He knew the whole Prince of Darkness thing was going to affect him, no way it couldn't, not after last night, but this he hadn't expected. His whole body longed to answer the call. Blood was rushing south fast enough to leave him light-headed and he had an erection he could pound nails with pressed up against Kate's back.
Deal. You're the one who told him to crank up the sex appeal.

The good news was, it seemed to be working on Kate, too. She'd transferred her grip from his collar to Henry's and stopped thrashing.

And thank God for that.
Friction, even friction of the spine-encased-in-raincoat variety was not helping.

Teeth gritted, he fought to maintain his hold as Henry's voice caressed them both. It didn't seem to matter that it wasn't meant for him. Kate gasped as teeth met through the skin of her wrist. Tony gasped with her. She moved languidly on his lap. He closed his eyes and barely kept from . . .

. . . didn't quite keep from . . .

Then she was a limp weight against him and cool fingers touched his cheek.

“Tony? Are you all right?”

“Fine. Just a little sticky.” He opened his eyes to see Henry, only Henry, staring into his face. The relief would have left him limp had that not already been taken care of. “You're not all carried away?”

“I've fed twice tonight. The Hunger is replete.”

“I thought too much blood got it going.”

“I didn't take too much. Hardly any from young Kate.”

“Is she?”

“She's asleep.”

“Doesn't like to cuddle, then.”

Henry paused, about to lift Kate into his arms. “What?”

“Never mind.” Tony adjusted his jeans as her weight went off him, saw Henry's nostrils' flare and silently dared him to comment. “I've got to put the lamp back. Why don't you put her in the car and see if she's got her address written in her raincoat or something.”

“Or something,” Henry agreed. He straightened, Kate's head lolling against his shoulder. “You know, eventually we're going to miss one. Or they'll get smarter and all hit the gate at once.”

“Yeah, I thought of that,” Tony said as he got to his feet. Then he frowned. “They could get smarter?”

“The longer they ride their hosts, the more information they absorb.”

“Oh, that's just fucking great.”

They walked together to the lamp.

“On the bright side,” Henry murmured as he turned toward the exit, “that's three down and only four to go.”

Tony bent and began coiling cable. “Unless one's in Arra, in which case we're just generally screwed.”

“So much for the bright side.”

“Yeah.” He sighed as Henry began walking and said softly as he heard the door open, knowing Henry would hear him even at that distance. “I'm thinking there's got to be a better way.”