The Man Who Walked in Darkness (Miles Franco #2) (Miles Franco Urban Fantasy) (32 page)

“Yes,” she said. “But I can’t—”

“You can,” he said. “I’ve seen you do complex Pin Holes before. You’re better than I was at your age, and better looking. Look, there, you’ve got some.”

My vision cleared enough to see half a dozen green, transparent crystals floating above my chest, each the size of a small pebble. Then a new wave of pain went through me. My vision went black.

“Miles?” Vivian stroked my face, but I couldn’t see her anymore. “Don’t be an asshole. Look at me.”

I wanted to, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t do anything anymore. At least the pain was fading. It was a nice try. Tania was going to be a hell of a Tunneler someday.

The music started again.

TWENTY-EIGHT

Every time I blacked out, every time I thought I was dead for sure this time, I woke up. I don’t know if that made me the luckiest guy in the world, or the unluckiest.

I woke slowly. I felt like someone had dropped a house on me, which was pretty good, all things considered. My sense of smell came back first. Apparently I hadn’t been moved from the piss-stained mattress. But there were other scents overlaying the acrid dampness. Sweat—Desmond’s probably. Toto’s stink. A hint of flowers that could only be Vivian’s or Tania’s perfume. I breathed in and out, testing my lungs. The pain was still there, but it lacked the knife-like quality it’d had before.

I heard traffic outside. What time was it? Morning? How long had I been out? Was this real? Or was this the last hallucination of my dying brain?

I tried to open my eyes, but my eyelids were stuck together. My mouth tasted like I’d demolished an entire case of bottom-shelf whiskey and then used my tongue as an ashtray. Something shifted against me, and I realized Toto was still nuzzling my side. The spider-dog screeched something as I gave the eye-opening thing another try.

“Water,” I said. It felt like I’d been chewing on sand. “Water.”

There was a whisper and a shuffling noise, then footsteps. I felt the mattress shift beneath me a little. Something cold and wet and delicious trickled into my mouth. I gulped at it greedily, breathed half of it in, coughed, and kept drinking.

“Careful.” This time I recognized Vivian’s voice instantly. Her hand touched the back of my head and tilted my face forward. The water came again, and I didn’t choke so much this time.

My eyes opened. The room was still blurry, but the pain wasn’t so bad. Vivian was sitting on the mattress next to me, a cup in her hands. I turned my head away from the water. Vivian took it away from my mouth and laid me back down. My chest ached with the movement.

“Thanks,” I croaked. “I’ve got a hangover like you wouldn’t believe. Am I alive?”

“More or less. You stink like a corpse, though.”

“You ready to give me that sponge bath yet?”

The punch she gave me was probably playful, but it felt like she’d given me a pile driver.

“Where are the others?” I asked when I could speak again. “Are they okay?”

“They’re fine. Tania’s shattered, but she’s sleeping it off. Your other friend needs sleep too, but he’s being stubborn. He went outside for some air.”

I nodded, then regretted it. “Did they get the crystals out? I guess they must’ve if I’m still alive, right?”

She rattled something in front of my face. It took me a moment to get my eyes to focus on the glass jar filled halfway to the brim with tiny green crystals. “See for yourself.”

I eyed the crystals. They looked so innocent when they weren’t killing me. “That’s all there was?”

“Apparently.”

“They must’ve been vicious little bastards.”

I realized how tired she looked. Her eyelids drooped, and the bags under her eyes had grown darker. I felt a sudden urge to pull her down next to me and fall asleep again. She looked like a good spooning partner. But, mindful of that mean right hook of hers, I kept my hands to myself.

“We still need to get you to a hospital,” she said, putting the crystals down behind her. “None of us know how much damage those crystals did to you.”

I shrugged, pretending the action didn’t make my shoulders want to pop out of their sockets. “I’m fine. You know me. I’m tough.”

She set her jaw and gave me a look. “You died, Miles.”

“What?”

“For a minute or two, while they were still getting the crystals out. No pulse, no breathing, no nothing. The other patients survived thirty minutes or so after they went into comas, but the adrenaline must’ve finished you off faster.”

I tried to make sense of her words, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t even mount an emotional response. How are you supposed to feel about that?
I died, but just for a little bit. Not one of those permanent deaths or anything. More of a holiday.

“How am I alive, then?”

“When they got the last of the crystals out, you just started breathing again on your own.”

Jesus. That was closer than I liked to come to death. I thought about my aching chest, and something occurred to me. “Wait. If Des and Tania were busy Tunneling, then someone else kept me from going completely. Did you give me CPR?”

My eyes still weren’t working so good, and Vivian’s dark skin made it difficult to tell, but I could swear she blushed. I grinned.

“Grow up,” she said.

“Never. Help me sit up, will you?”

She got her hands under my shoulders and pulled. I gritted my teeth and planted my hands on the bed to get the rest of the way. Everything swayed and everything hurt, but after a few seconds I was sitting roughly vertical. Toto trotted back and forth in front of me, hooting. I rested my head against the cool concrete wall of the basement apartment and blinked my eyes into focus.

Tania was curled up asleep in the opposite corner, wrapped in someone’s jacket. Desmond must’ve still been outside. I couldn’t blame him. This place didn’t have much in the way of ventilation. Aran’s head was nodding as he sat against one wall, and his brother was sitting in one of the chairs facing away from me, the machine pistol in his hands.

“Rowdy bunch, aren’t they?” I said. I patted myself down. I was still wearing my jacket and the shirt Vivian had bought me, but they were both wrinkled and smelling pretty funky. As for me, I’d been better, but I felt like after six to eight months of intensive physical therapy I might be able to brush my own teeth again.

“Vivian.” I paused, not looking at her. “Thanks. You guys…well, I’m sure you know how much you saved my ass.”

I tried to stretch, but I couldn’t get comfortable. Vivian shifted her weight as well, and I felt her warmth close to me. I closed my eyes.

“I know I didn’t do this right,” I said. “I screwed up a lot. It’s what I do best. I should have come to you sooner. You and Des and Tania. Hell, I should’ve come to you before all this kicked off, when I couldn’t even get myself out of a glass. What I’m saying is—”

She snorted. I opened my eyes and looked at her. She was curled up on the mattress, eyes closed. Every few seconds she inhaled, sounding like a vacuum cleaner.

“Christ, you can snore,” I said. I touched her shoulder. She murmured something, and without opening her eyes, she adjusted her position so her head rested in my lap. Then she started snoring again.

I watched her for a few seconds. A few of her hairs were draped over her mouth, so I gently brushed them out of the way and smiled. “You’ve got the right idea,” I said. I rested my head against the wall again and let my eyes droop. Toto snuggled up to me on my other side. I realized that I hadn’t seen Claudia since I’d come to, but I was too tired to figure out if that meant anything. I closed my eyes.

Footsteps. Outside, on the stairs leading down here.
Probably just Desmond coming back. Or you’re dreaming.
But something wasn’t right. They were moving too quickly, and they sounded too heavy. I pried my eyes open.

A boom ripped through the apartment.

Vivian jerked awake. A hole had appeared in the door at the level of the deadbolt. Something smashed into the door, sending it flying inward. A tall figure filled the doorway, silhouetted by sunlight. He pumped the short-barreled shotgun in his hands.

Aran’s brother jumped to his feet, the chair toppling over behind him. He brought the machine pistol up. Too slow.

The shotgun roared again, and I caught a glimpse of the man’s face in the muzzle flash. Stretch.

Aran’s brother folded at the middle, the machine pistol dropping from his fingers. He collapsed, blood leaking from the hole in his chest.

“No!” Aran screeched in Vei. He leaped. Stretch pumped his shotgun, but he couldn’t bring it round before Aran was on him. The enforcer slammed the shotgun into Aran’s chest, then put a boot into him to send him sprawling across the rotted carpet.

Tania was screaming. Toto was going crazy, and it took all my strength to keep him from rushing at Stretch. Vivian’s hand was halfway to her pistol. She froze when Stretch turned the gun on her.

“Good,” he said to her. “Hands flat on the ground.”

She complied, looking like she could take a bite out of that shotgun and swallow it. The room got quiet. Tania had stopped screaming, and now the only sound was Aran as he groaned and swore, clutching at the ground like the room was swaying.

Stretch turned the gun to me, his long black coat flapping as he moved. “Glare all you want, Franco. Keep your hands on that…creature. And no Tunneling out of this.”

I did as he said. Toto let out a high-pitched whine and stared at Stretch with all his eyes.

“You look better,” Stretch said to me.

“You ever hear of that show
Extreme Makeover
?”

His face was blank. “You’re coming with me.”

I forced myself not to look at the jar of crystals sitting just beside Vivian. From his position, Stretch wouldn’t be able to see them, but if either of us moved, the game was up. My heart hammered.

“Now, Franco,” he said.

“It’s kind of an inconvenient time. I was about to catch forty winks. Come back in a few hours, we’ll talk then.”

His dead eyes didn’t flicker. “I don’t have time for this.” He turned the shotgun away from me. He pointed it at Vivian instead. “This one looks like she’s important to you.”

I shrugged, but my throat was closing up.

“Is she important to you?”

I glanced at Vivian. She looked braver than I felt. I’d done it again. Another friend dead. I’d say I was cursed if I didn’t know that every death was my own stupid fault.

I opened my mouth to speak, but I sensed something. Chaos. I fixed my expression on my face, praying I hadn’t already betrayed myself, and stared Stretch dead in the eye.

“No,” I said. “She’s nothing to me.”

“You lie,” he said, advancing slowly. “I know what you’re like. You’ll do anything to protect your friends.”

“And look where that got me. People are dead. I nearly died. I’m sick of this shit.” I could feel Vivian’s eyes on me, but I refused to take my gaze off Stretch. “I’m done.”

He stopped a couple of feet from Vivian, the shotgun aimed at her head. There was no way he could miss at that range. “You’re bluffing.”

“McCaffrey said that too. She was wrong.”

“Last chance,” he said.

“Kill her.”

“As you wish.”

He pulled the trigger. The shotgun boomed.

And it exploded in his hands.

My ears rang. Releasing Toto, I lurched forward and put all my energy into a single kick. My shoe slammed into Stretch’s knee. The shock nearly jarred the skeleton out of my body, but it did the trick. He was screaming, probably more from the shrapnel that had shredded his hands than from my kick. But either way, he went down.

Vivian recovered faster than I expected her to. She had her pistol aimed at his writhing form in less than a second. With her free hand, she pulled a pair of handcuffs from her pocket and tossed them on the floor next to Aran, who had managed to get onto his hands and knees.

“I’ll cover him. Cuff his hands behind his back.”

I’d turned to rubber again, but Aran was sprier. He got up, still wheezing, and kicked Stretch square in the gut.

“Hey!” Vivian said. “The cuffs.”

Aran snarled at no one in particular, then bent over while clutching his chest and rolled Stretch onto his stomach. Swearing, Aran slid the cuffs into place and drove his foot into Stretch’s side again.

“Kuroth shit,” Aran spat at the enforcer. “All by yourself, huh? Planning to sell us off to the highest bidder, huh?” He kicked Stretch in the ribs.

Vivian holstered her gun and grabbed Aran by both shoulders. “Leave it. Leave it, I said! See to your brother.”

Aran’s had snapped toward the Vei bleeding out on the floor. I could tell from here the poor guy was dead already. But Aran shook himself free of Vivian and went to his brother’s side.

I pushed myself back up against the wall, trying to calm the hammering in my chest. Stretch’s screams faded. I tore my eyes from him and found Tania in the far corner, still gripping the bottle of Kemia in shaking hands.

“Kid,” I said to her. “You did good. Real good. You can release the Pin Hole now.”

She glanced at the circle she’d scratched on the wall, her cheeks going pink. I felt the chaos slip away. Stability returned.

“Smart, blocking the shotgun barrel like that,” I said. “Your Pin Hole was clean and precise. And you did it under pressure. Desmond’s been teaching you well.”

She flashed a smile, even though she was still trembling. “You taught me that one.”

“I did?”

She nodded. I wasn’t humoring her. She’d done a damn good job. The poor kid needed a hug and a long sleep, but I didn’t think I could stand right now, let alone cross the room to get to her.

The shotgun was a wreck, but Vivian kicked it away from Stretch anyway. She patted him down and found a switchblade and a pistol concealed in his coat pocket. She took out the mag, ejected the round from the chamber, and pocketed everything. She found a revolver in an ankle holster as well. Seemingly satisfied, she stood and met my eyes.

“What I told him before…” I said before she could speak. “I didn’t—”

“I know.” She smiled and nodded, and the knot in my stomach loosened. I couldn’t take another friend pissed off at me right now.