Touch of Evil (28 page)

The bedroom was a mess from my frantic search for the brace earlier, so I spent a few minutes hanging and folding clothes, but that woke me up again. So I unpacked my suitcase and put a bag of laundry down in the truck to take to the dry cleaners. Nope. Still too wired to sleep. Well, maybe some food and warm milk.

I grabbed a pasty from the freezer and popped it in the microwave. The tantalizing smell told me that I was hungrier than I'd thought. I ate the first one while walking around the living room watering the plants and trimming the leaves that Joe had missed yesterday. I was too wired to sleep, and dreading what I knew I had to do.

The first tasted good enough that I treated myself to a second one. I took another pill and had to admit I was impressed with the little capsule that made the goose egg, and a possible concussion, completely go away

I sat down to start the real searching, the kind I couldn't do with Mike around. He doesn't like to believe that the stuff in my head is real. He knows it is, but he works hard to delude himself, so I try not to beat him over the head with the truth too hard. I sat down in the recliner and took a deep

breath. I closed my eyes and opened my mind. I let it flow outward slowly; carefully. Perhaps the hive wouldn't notice me if I moved slowly. But no such luck. I gasped when I suddenly heard my name in my own head. The buzzing grew louder and louder. The hive was angry; livid, but Monica was smug. You know I have him, Kathleen. Surrender to me or I will bleed him out before you can find him. Come to us, Kathleen . . . come . . . COME!

I realized I was crying, because I knew she'd do it. I knew I wasn't thinking rationally, because I started to wonder where I'd put my car keys and tried to remember where her lair was located. I shook my head hard and tried to back out of the connection. It wouldn't break. So I turned on the stereo and plugged in a loud rock CD. For the first time, it didn't drown out her voice. My head started to pound and my wounds ached in response to the quickening of my heart.

Come to us, Kate. Be our queen . . . take care of us. Please don't let us die.

I turned up the music, but the desperate chorus of voices grew louder in response. A hive of bees was nesting in my skull and I couldn't make them stop! I shut my eyes and threw up shields. I sang old Celtic drinking songs, and played the CD

louder and louder even after I felt vibration underfoot as Tom banged on his ceiling.

. . . we need you, Queen Kate. Help us. I caught myself twice with the doorknob in my hand and tears in my eyes. Finally, I did the only thing I could think to do. I took a sleeping pill, even though I'd never used them before when the Thrall was actually trying to control me. It could work—but it might backfire and make me

susceptible to the hypnotic, sing-song droning. I didn't know how it would interact with the other medicine, and I doubted that Joe and Dr.

MacDougal would approve. But I wasn't sure I was going to win this battle in my current state. I had to get some sleep.

Warmth spread through my stomach in a few

minutes and my arms started to feel heavy. I lay down on the bed and didn't fight the fuzzy

numbness as the drugs quieted the voices and the room faded away.

I felt the cool sheets caress my skin sensuously as Dylan whispered to me in my sleep.

I'm so proud of you, Katie. You're strong and powerful and I've always loved that about you. We'll be together again soon forever. It made me happier than I could remember. I wanted so desperately for him to approve of me; to want me back. But wait—didn't he used to hate that I was stronger than him? Didn't he? I couldn't remember. But I wanted so much to believe.

We'll be together soon, Katydid. I want to touch you again; taste you. I want to be with you and hear you scream my name as I take you again and again. I need to touch you, taste you so bad . . . so very bad. Yes, Katie, let me taste you—

His low, frantic whispers prickled the hair on the back of my neck. I could feel his hunger and lust and need flow through me. A flutter of excitement quickened my heart as his teeth sunk in. The pain in his stomach washed away in a sweet, metallic rush. She wasn't me, but it would be me so very soon. Part of me wanted to swim with him in that

sensation, feel the climax overtake my body, but still I fought to get away.

This was wrong. This wasn't Dylan. No, no, this can't be the Dylan I knew. I struggled against the whispers, screamed again and again, but I couldn't wake up.

We're sending someone and Monica will be gone, and you'll be mine again. Soon now. We're sending someone—

My eyes flew open and I was that someone, stalking Monica in her own lair. She was asleep, surrounded by a bevy of Hosts, when I slid into the room. But I didn't move like I would in real life. The attack on Monica was sudden and violent. Mind and body struck out in unison, but she was ready. I saw her face thin to almost skeletal. Her hiss was unearthly and inhuman. An answering blast of psychic energy hit the dream-me in the chest and knocked me back against a wrought-iron spiral staircase. The metal groaned and bent before the bolts sheared off and the whole works collapsed. So they've sent you to replace me, have they?

The words whispered and hissed through my brain even though her lips never moved. I tried to move, but was trapped in the crushed metal. You fool!

Didn't they learn when I killed the last one? My children will live and they will be more powerful than you can ever imagine. I will not live to see it, but neither will you!

A blinding flash of white light and dark magic and pain that was like a stiletto to the heart: sudden and deadly. My eyes flew open on the bed and I

realized through my pounding heart that it wasn't me that Monica had been fighting. There was abrupt panic in my mind—a fear so strong that it took my breath away. They had been right . . . and so very wrong. The other queens had tried to control Monica by sending one of their strongest to eliminate her. But they had underestimated her. She was more powerful than they had imagined, and now they feared her. Even at the bare ends of her life, she was stronger than the strongest of them. What in the hell was I going to do?

14

Dawn arrived steeped in dreary mist. I yawned wide and long, but it didn't help to clear my fear that still pounded in my heart and flowed through my veins. Sleeping pills always make me feel wooden and fuzzy the next day, but I supposed it was better than terrified. A shower helped a little bit, but it took two cups of coffee before I could think well enough to put up my mental shields. I was just picking up my keys when I heard a knock on the door. I risked a quick psychic search, but all I found was a blank wall of sizzling energy. It wasn't Thrall, but what was on the other side of the door?

I grabbed both knives in one hand and walked to the door. "Who is it?"

"A name from your past and perhaps an ally to ensure your future." The voice was soft, female, and alto. She did sound familiar, but I couldn't place her.

Opening the door always puts me at a

disadvantage, especially now that my shoulder hurt. I unlocked the deadbolt and stepped back to give myself room to move.

"It's open. Come in."

The door swung open easily, as though it was tissue paper, which was my first hint. The minute I saw the woman I started abruptly. I recognized her. We'd played softball together in high school. Mary Connolly had always been a bit butch.

Short and stocky with golden-brown eyes and naturally black hair that she kept just a little bit shorter than any of the other girls in school. It never occurred to me at the time that she might be a wolf, but as soon as she walked through the door, I just knew.

There'd been rumors in school that she was gay and more rumors that we were an item. As far as I knew she wasn't. We certainly weren't. Back then I'd been keeping busy with the pre-broken-nose Michael. But I remembered she was tough as nails. It didn't look like time had softened her. I couldn't criticize. I haven't exactly softened up either.

"Hi, Mary. Long time no see."

She smiled, but there was a hard edge to it.

"Nice to know I'm memorable after all these years. May I come in? We need to talk."

Mary was always one for getting right to the point, which I'd always liked about her. I tucked the knives back in the sheathes, which made one corner of her mouth turn up. I couldn't tell if it was because she was impressed that I'd been ready to fight, or that she thought it was cute but futile, which was a distinct possibility.

I still remembered watching her beat the crap out of one of the boys from a rival school, after he'd nearly raped one of the girls on our team. He wound up in the hospital for a month, and she got suspended for a week. I probably should have too, since I didn't stop her. Heck, I think I remember applauding. While my nickname was the

Terminator, hers was the Enforcer. She could have beat the crap out of me back then. I didn't honestly know who would prevail now.

"I don't have any time to talk right now, Mary. I have to go—"

"Find Bryan," she completed with a serious nod.

"I know. That's why I'm here."

I didn't sit down completely, but I rested my tail on the arm of one chair and swung my hand to offer her the couch. Mary didn't sit either. She stepped forward and mimicked my move. She sat on the other chair's arm, directly across from me. Check. My move.

"This doesn't have anything to do with the wolves."

One eyebrow raised, but then she gracefully shrugged. "So, you know I'm a lycanthrope. No matter. I was going to tell you anyway. But I'm not just a wolf, Kate. I'm the Acca of Denver." It was my turn to show surprise, but not because she was Acca. That didn't shock me at all. Like me, she wouldn't be able to stand to be anything less than the top dog . . . er, wolf. "I thought we already had a meeting scheduled."

She nodded and crossed her arms over her

chest. "We did. We do. But Bryan's kidnapping upped the stakes. I'm here to offer the assistance of my pack to find him."

I pursed my lips and dropped my gaze to the floor for a moment while trying to figure out why she would make such an offer. I jingled my keys in my hand while I thought. Nope. It was beyond me.

"Don't get me wrong, Mary. I appreciate the offer. But why would you care what happens to my

brother? This has nothing to do with the wolves." She chuckled darkly and shook her head. "Well, first—I actually liked Bryan. So, that's one reason. And second, this has everything to do with the wolves. We need Bryan found, and you need our help to find him. What's the problem?" I realized I was tapping one key on my leg as I stared at her blank expression, and stopped. "Just call me suspicious, I guess. I spent the majority of my life wolf-free, and in the last two days I've gotten one for a tenant, been threatened by another at a burger joint, and now the head of the pack stops by my home. You tell me—what's the

problem with this picture?"

Her expression darkened. "Who threatened you?"

I shook my head. "No deal. What does Bryan's kidnapping have to do with Dusty?" I figured she'd know the name. They had to be connected.

Her bright smile was cut short, like turning off a switch. "You always were quick on your feet. Yes, you're right. This is about Dusty. I can't let you have Dusty, so I have to help you find Bryan. I'd rather not get involved at all, but life sucks some days." I shook my head, tiny movements to try to get the little balls to fall into the right holes. "You know, I'm feeling a lot like I missed part of this whole conversation. Let's start from scratch. Why can't you let me have Dusty? Why do you have to help me find Bryan? Why are the wolves fighting with the Thrall at all?"

She slid off the chair arm to land with a soft plop on the overstuffed cushion. "I figured that you were on the same level of knowledge. My mistake." She made a sweeping gesture to ask me to join her. "Sit down. We have time. Monica won't harm a hair on his head for a little while yet."

I glanced at my watch. It was still early, but Mike would probably be calling any time. I

grudgingly sat down on the front edge of the chair, but kept my body ready to bolt if I needed to. She noticed.

She steepled her fingers in front of her chin and gave me her full attention. "Okay, then, I'll make it brief. Monica wants you to be the Thrall queen."

"No duh, Mary. I know."

She made a little annoyed noise. "I'm just setting the stage here, so quit interrupting with what you know and don't know. We don't have time." I shut up, because she was right.

"But Monica knows that you'd rather

die—which I don't blame you for, by the way. Just so you know."

I nodded, but didn't comment, so she went on.

"The back-up choice is Dusty, but that's not why we're protecting her."

That raised my eyebrows.

"We started to protect her because of Matt Quinn. She had evidence that he's been skimming money from the city coffers, and doing bad things with Monica—some big plot that she won't even tell me about. Suffice it to say that Matt wants the evidence back, and her no longer able to testify. Dead is good, being the Thrall queen would be better, because she would have to honor

agreements made by Monica."

"So, Matt is working with Monica in this. I knew he was bad news!"

Mary nodded. "The baddest. Anyway, Dusty told her friend Voneen about the documents she'd taken, and she helped Dusty run away. Dusty knew one of our wolves, Rob, from school. Just casually, but they text messaged and stuff. When Monica offered Voneen the queenship, she knew that Voneen would die. She had no psychic talent to speak of. But Monica intended to follow Voneen back to Dusty, who does have talent. I don't know what Matt is giving Monica to help him eliminate Dusty, but it doesn't matter. We have to ensure that Matt and Monica don't get their hands on her. When I agreed to protect her, I endangered the pack. Matt has sworn revenge against the wolves. In his position as councilman, he can make our lives a living hell. Tom getting kicked out of his place was just the beginning."