Just before sunrise, Reaper pulled the Jeep into the parking lot of a small motel on the outskirts of Byram.
"I wish we could catch up to Crisa before we rest," Briar said. "I hate that we have to wait."
"I know. I hate it, too, but we can't risk getting caught by the sun." Reaper opened the car door, got out and pocketed the keys. "We'll find her tonight. I promise."
"I hope so."
"How's your head?" he asked.
"Okay at the moment. Just a dull ache. I'm not sure what's better, being able to know where she is, what she's doing, feeling, with the pain raging, or feeling cut off from her entirely, but without the pain."
"Come on." He took her arm, and led her away from the motel.
She glanced up at him with a frown. "We're not getting a room?"
"I'm not comfortable staying here. Dwyer arranged for the car, so he likely knows exactly what we're driving, right down to the plate number. He can move freely by day, and he has the connections to be informed when the vehicle is spotted." He shook his head. "We'll leave the Jeep here. Find a safe place to rest elsewhere."
She nodded. "And at sundown, when we rise and come back for it? Who's to say he won't be right here waiting?"
Reaper lifted his brows. "You're right." Then he turned, walked back to the Jeep and tossed the keys inside just in case they had to abandon it for good. When he returned to her side, he said, "You think like a cop, you know that?"
"I think like a criminal," she told him. "Big difference."
They walked until they found a likely resting place, a warehouse, closed for the night, with an open window on the second story and only one lone security guard lurking outside.
"Ready?" Reaper asked, looking up at the window.
Briar was looking at the guard. "I could use a snack."
"It'll have to wait. Come on." He pushed off with his powerful legs, launching himself into the air and unerringly right through the window, somersaulting onto the floor on the other side. Then he rose and looked back down at her.
She gave one last longing glance at the security guard, sighed and jumped up to join him.
Matt waited until morning, when he and Derry were having breakfast, to ask him about the phone call. He'd lain in bed for the remainder of the night, wide awake. But since Derry had gone right back to sleep, he figured it was best to wait. He'd decided not to run away last night while the guy was sleeping. Not that he trusted Derry or anything, but he thought he would know if the man were getting close to making the decision to kill him. He was pretty sure he was still safe-for now, anyway. Besides, with Derry's bed pulled right across the doorway, it would have been impossible to get out without waking him.
And the lure of the promise that Derry could help him get back to his mother was too much to resist.
Derry seemed better in the morning. Didn't seem so stiff when he came out of the shower, walked a little straighter, his stride a little stronger. And beyond all that, Matt could sense it.
"You're feeling better today," he said.
Derry was pulling on his shirt. It was sweat-stained, even though he'd washed it in the sink the night before and hung it from the shower curtain rod to dry. "Yeah, quite a bit."
"The medicine is helping. That's good. So who is Reaper?"
"A friend."
"Vampire friend or a regular one?"
Derry slanted him a speculative look. "Vampire. But one of the good ones."
"There are good ones?"
The way the man looked at him made Matt think he'd just asked a pretty stupid question. But eventually the guy smiled a little, and tousled his hair as if he were a little kid. "Vampires are just like everybody else, Matt. There are good ones, and there are bad ones. And there are some who fall somewhere in between. Reaper's a good one."
"And my dad's a bad one," Matt said softly. When
Derry didn't answer, he nodded. "It's okay, I know. It's just, I thought they were all like him. He's the only one I ever really knew."
"He's had others with him. Didn't you ever meet any of them?"
"None? of the real ones, no. Dad kept me away from them. I don't think they even knew I was around." He shrugged. "I saw those big dumb ones now and then. They scared me."
"They scare everyone."
"So your friend is coming to see you?"
"Yeah."
"And who's Crisa?"
Derrick's eyes narrowed. "You really were payin' attention to that phone call, weren't you?"
Matt shrugged and averted his eyes, afraid he was giving too much away.
"Truth is, Matt, I've been meanin' to talk to you about Crisa. I don't get the feelin' your dad has taught you a lot about...about what you are."
"One of the Chosen."
"And do you know what that means?"
"It means I'm better than ordinary people. Like a god or something."
Derry lowered his eyes. "No. It just means you can become a vampire if you want to."
"Yeah, but vampires are stronger and faster than everybody else. And they live forever. How is that not better?"
"Elephants are stronger than people. Tigers are faster. Tortoises live longer. Doesn't make them gods, pal."
Matt sighed. "Guess not." He could sense that Derry was thinking other things. He was thinking about telling him that he wouldn't live as long as ordinary humans did if he didn't become a vampire. And he was thinking about telling him that vampires didn't necessarily live forever, either, that they could die like anyone else. Then he decided to let someone else handle all that.
And it crossed his mind that maybe Matt's mom should be the one to have that discussion with him.
The subjects-about dying and stuff-made Matt uneasy, but he forgot all that when he heard that one final thought cross Derry's mind: about his mom. It was the first time he felt sure Derry hadn't been lying to him. His mom really must be alive.
His heart felt like it was swelling up in his chest, and he had to blink fast to keep his eyes dry. "So tell me about Crisa, then," he said, his voice tight and soft, because somehow it was too hard to make it very loud.
"Okay. Well, first you need to know how vampires feel about the Chosen. People like you, who have a certain blood antigen in them."
"They can tell who we are?"
"Oh, yeah. They sense you very strongly. And there's some kind of instinctive urge they have to protect you, kind of watch out for you. Folklore says they couldn't hurt you if they wanted to, though I've seen a few vamps who made me doubt that. But mostly, they're like guardian angels to you guys."
"Cool."
"They usually have a more powerful connection to one of you than they do to any other. And I think the one with the most powerful connection to you is Crisa."
That brought Matt's head up fast. "But I don't even know her."
"Doesn't matter. The thing is, she's not...normal."
Matt lifted his brows. "Is she gonna hurt me?"
"No. She's a grown-up, but she's kind of like a little girl in a grown-up body. You know what I mean?"
"You mean she's mental?"
"Maybe. A little. She thinks you're in trouble, and she's on her way here to try to help you. But you should know that you're a lot safer with me. Like I said, she's not normal, and she's not as sharp as most. Heck, I think you have a firmer grasp on things than she does. So if she shows up here, you can't go with her, okay?"
And now Derry was, Matt sensed, looking out for his own best interests. Even Derry thought Matt might be better off with this Crisa. Deep down. But he wasn't saying so.
"How does she know where I am?" Matt asked.
"I don't know. Senses it, I guess."
"Why does she think I'm in trouble?" Because I am, Matt thought, answering his own question and knowing Derry wouldn't tell the truth.
"I don't know. Like I said, she's not quite right."
"But vampires sense when the Chosen are in trouble. You just said so. So she must be sensing it, right?"
He met Matt's eyes. "You're safe with me."
"Yeah, unless my dad doesn't do what you want him to." Matt lowered his head and shook it. "Does my dad know about her?"
"I think so, yeah."
"And your friend, Reaper? Does he know about her?"
"Yeah. He's comin' up here because of her. She's his friend. He wants to help her."
"Why? Is she in trouble, too?"
Derry looked at the kid. "She's kind of...sick right now."
"Oh." Matt nodded slowly. He'd heard enough of the phone call to put the rest together on his own. Derry was using Crisa to get this Reaper to come to him. Just like he was using Matt to get his father to turn himself in to the authorities. Derry was a user. He hadn't deserved what Matt's dad had done to him, and he seemed like a decent guy, but Matt thought he was reading the man fairly well. He was pretty sure Derry would do anything, hurt anybody, to get what he wanted.
The only difference between Derry and his dad was that his dad's goals were bad-money and power and stuff like that. And Derry's were good, supposedly, because he worked for the government, after all, and he was mostly trying to bring a bad guy-his dad-to justice. Make him stop killing people all the time. That was probably a pretty good goal.
But aside from that, the two of them weren't much different.
Matt wondered briefly what Derry wanted with this Reaper guy. And then he wondered what Crisa was like.
His protector. He hadn't even known he had one, besides his mom, and he'd thought he'd lost her a long time ago. It was kind of cool to think there was someone else who wanted to look out for him. Crazy or not, Matt had a gut feeling that he would be safer with Crisa than he would be with his father or with Derry. And he knew Derry thought so, too.
"When do you think they'll get here?" he asked, suddenly eager.
"Tonight," Derry said. Then he clapped a hand to the back of Matt's shoulder. "Let's go out to breakfast, huh?"
"Yeah. Okay." Matt nodded, as, deep inside his head, he thought about what he was going to do.
By nightfall, Roxy and Ilyana had driven Shirley and her unconscious passengers five hundred miles closer to home. They'd been taking turns behind the wheel. Ilyana was driving at the moment, with Roxy resting in the passenger seat.
When the sun fully set and she sensed movement from the back, Roxy straightened up and hit the button that would lower the sunproof barrier behind the front set of seats, then turned to eye her cohorts as they roused from their deathlike slumber. She hit another button to open the bottom compartment, where Mirabella was already awake and waiting to be let out.
"Well, well, well," Roxy said, as they sat up, one after the other. "You have anything you'd like to say to us?"
"What the hell?" Jack looked around, then faced her again with a grin that made him more handsome than he was already, the devil. "Roxy! You rescued us!"
"Of course I did. I mean, we did." She looked at her fingernails and shrugged. "Imagine that, just a couple of mortals, mostly useless, saving your sorry asses from an army of drones. Who'd have guessed it?"
Jack leaned over the seat, gripped her head and kissed her right on the mouth. "You kick ass, Roxy." And with a glance at Ilyana he added, "Both of you. How the hell did you do it?"
"We went in by day, figuring the drones would be as comatose as you guys were. Used the body bags to haul you and Topaz out to the van, then repeated the whole process when we got to where Seth and Vixen were. And then, after patting each other on the back a few times, we headed east."
"That was dangerous, Roxy" Seth said softly. "Gregor could have had people, mortals, watching, or-"
"Yeah, yeah. You'd have done the same for us."
"Yes," Vixen said. "We would have."
"Thank you, Roxy," Topaz told her. "And you, too, Ilyana. I couldn't have taken another night sitting there, surrounded by those oversized gorillas." She sighed and smoothed her long mink-colored hair with one hand. "How long before we'll be home?"
"Oh, we're not going home. We're cutting north, heading for Connecticut."
"Why Connecticut?" Jack asked. "Is that where Reaper is?"
"Yeah. And Briar-and Crisa, as far as we know.
Also on hand, apparently, is Raphael's former CIA boss, a guy named Dwyer. And according to him, Gregor is there, as well."
Frowning, exchanging glances with the others before returning his gaze to her, Jack asked, "What's going on, Roxy?"
"We're still not sure. But we think Dwyer is somehow behind Crisa's symptoms, and that he's luring her up there as a means to get to Raphael, knowing he would follow. Raphael and Briar are supposed to meet with him tonight."
"Are they nuts?" Seth asked, his voice rising. "Doesn't Reaper realize it's probably a trap? This guy wants to get him back so they can do some more tinkering with his brain, bring him back into the fold, make him their own personal freaking WMD."
"He knows that, Seth," Roxy said. "But it's the only way Dwyer will tell him what's going on with Crisa. He told Raphael he was expecting her to show up tonight, too."
"How could he possibly be controlling Crisa like that?" Vixen asked.
"We don't know," Roxy said. "But she's getting worse. At least, she is if Briar's symptoms are anything to go by."
"She's bad?" Jack asked.
Roxy nodded, meeting his eyes and seeing the worry there. He was more fond of the she-devil than any of them were, except, perhaps, for Reaper himself. Then she shifted her eyes, glancing at Topaz. "She was driving when the worst episode yet hit her.
Blinding pain, Reaper said. I'm afraid your Land Rover is totaled."
"But they're okay?" Topaz asked.
Roxy nodded. "They're okay."
"That's what matters. The car's insured, anyway."
"What's our ETA, Roxy?" Jack asked.
Roxy glanced at the GPS system mounted on the dashboard. "If we drive all night and all day tomorrow, we can make it by tomorrow night. I think Ilyana and I are ready to take a turn napping in the back, though. You guys can take over the driving for a while."
"Amen to that," Ilyana said. "There's a rest stop five miles ahead. I'll pull off and we can switch. Roxy and I need a restroom and some food, anyway."
"I'll drive next," Seth offered. He eyed them both. "You two are something else, you know that?"
"Of course we do," Roxy said.
"Does Reaper know we're coming?"
Ilyana met his eyes. "We're under strict orders to keep our distance from him, in case this is a trap. But I think deep down he must know we won't listen. He can't possibly imagine I'd stay away, knowing Gregor is there." She flipped on the signal and moved smoothly into the right lane, spying the rest stop's lights in the distance. "That bastard has my son."
The vampires in the back nodded. Jack said, "We're going to get him back, Ilyana. Safely."
She frowned, glancing back at him and then at the others, who were all nodding, and something in her face softened. "Thank you."
"No," Topaz said. "Thank you."
Crisa had two desires driving her through the night, on foot, in the pouring rain. The boy, she had to get to the boy. And beyond that need was the evil voice in her head, commanding her to come to him. But the two were not in the same place.
Whenever she tried to resist the voice in her head, the commanding one that ordered her to come to him, the pain grew worse.
When she headed toward him, it eased. And yet, the boy needed her. He needed her. She was compelled by everything in her-everything except that voice in her head-to go to him.
So despite the pain that seemed to increase with every step she took, that was what she did.
She was getting weak. The pain was wearing her down. She could feel Briar coming for her, getting closer all the time. And the man, the boss man, shouting at her, Come to me. Now!
She'd been ignoring him, refusing to reply as she emerged from the brush onto a busy street in the village of Byram. She peered through the rain at the lighted neon sign of a motel, and she knew that was where the boy was.
What are you doing, Crisa? That's not where I am. You have to come to me. The words were accompanied by excruciating pain that made tears spring to her eyes.
"I have to go to him. I have to help the boy." She spoke aloud, knowing, somehow, that the voice in her head could hear her.
And that he could see what she saw, as well, though she didn't understand how. Was he a demon? A ghost? Another vampire?
Who was he, and why was he inside her head?
The boy? The boy is there?
"I think so."
There was a long moment of blessed silence. Then, All right. Get the boy then come to me. Bring him with you.
She stopped halfway across the street. "Why? What do you want with him?"
A horn blasted, and she moved out of the way of the passing vehicle. "I won't do it," she said as she finished crossing and stood in the parking lot of the motel, honing her sense of the boy, finding the room, the door with the tin number tacked to its face. 16.
The six hung crookedly, its bottom nail missing.
You don't have a choice.
She closed her eyes, knowing she did have a choice. She could suffer the pain, die from it, rather than do what this voice demanded.
He's not safe where he is, Crisa. The voice had softened and felt... almost kind now. He is not safe. The man who has him will hurt him. You have to save him. Get him away from that man and bring him to me. He'll be safe here. So will you.
She stared at the door with the numbers on it. "He's not safe?"
He needs you to save him. He's counting on you, Crisa.
"He's counting on me," she whispered, and then she walked up to the door.
Matt was sitting on the floor, watching TV when he felt something tickle its way up his spine and lift his head. It was involuntary, that movement. And the way his gaze speared the motel room door was involuntary, too.
Derry had been getting more nervous and jerky by the moment ever since the sun went down. He would sit still for five minutes, then get up and go from one window to another, peering outside.
Like if there was a vampire coming after him, his looking outside would do a darn thing to stop it.
And one was coming now, Matt thought. His was coming now. He felt her.
Crisa.
The door slammed open as if someone had pounded the other side with a sledgehammer. It hit the wall, and she stood there, kind of hunched up, like a cat with its back arched. She was dripping wet, pale, and she had dark circles around eyes that glowed with a reddish light. Her hair was wet, too and stuck up all over, like the feathers of a bird caught in a windstorm.
Matt was kind of surprised that he wasn't scared. He probably should have been. But he felt certain, right to his toes, that she wasn't dangerous. Not to him, anyway.
Derry had frozen in place in the doorway from the bathroom, where he'd gone to peer out the window again. He just stared at her.
Matt got up onto his feet. "Crisa?" he asked.
The glow in her eyes blinked out. They were big and brown in the room's pale light, and when she saw him, her lips trembled into a small smile, and she came inside.
"You're okay," she whispered.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
She sent a look toward Derry. "You're lucky, mister."
"Hey, I wasn't gonna hurt him."
"Not much," Matt muttered.
Derry sent him a frown but shifted his gaze quickly back to Crisa again. "Look," he said. "I know you've been having pain, odd symptoms, and I can help you with that."
"I don't know you." She held out a hand to Matt. "Come with me. No one can hurt you if you're with me. But we have to hurry."
He looked at her. Then he looked at Derry.
"Don't do it, kid. She's sick. If she doesn't let me help her, she's not long for the world."
"And I' m supposed to believe you?" Matt grabbed his coat. "You've only been using me to get to my father."
"Matt! I've been good to you."
"To keep me from bugging out, yeah. But you've been using me, and I know it. If you really wanted to take me back to my mom like you promised, then we wouldn't have been hiding out in some stupid motel all this time."
Shrugging into his coat, Matt moved toward the door.
Derry lunged at him and grabbed him by the shoulder, as if to pull him back. But Crisa, the drowned bird in the doorway, pounced so fast that Matt didn't even see her move. One minute he was walking toward her as she stood there in the rain, and the next she was straddling Derry, who was lying on his back on the floor, gasping for air. Matt wasn't sure, but he thought she might have punched him in the chest and knocked the wind out of him.
Or broken his ribs.
"Don't touch the boy!" she shouted.
"Uh, my name's Matt."
She rose slowly, her eyes pinning Derry where he lay, never wavering.
"Do you, um...do you think you could help me find my mom, Crisa?"
"I'll help you do whatever you want me to," she said as she backed toward the door. "Do you know where she is?"
"No. Her name's Ilyana, and my father told me she was dead, but this guy says she's not."
That brought her gaze off Derry and onto him in a hurry and she was smiling in a way that made him forget she was a dripping wet mess. "Ilyana? She's your mom?" Her smile got bigger as he nodded, and the look in her eyes seemed to beam a warm, wonderful feeling into him. It was like a big hug, only not one. "I know her," she said softly.
Matt felt his eyebrows go up.
"She's too skinny. And she has really short hair, so blond it's almost white, and her eyes-"
"That's her! That's my mom!"
Her smile became a soft laugh. "I know right where she is. I came from there." Then she frowned. "It wasn't an easy trip, though. It took me a long time and I had to take rides with strangers, and you're a kid, and kids aren't supposed to ride in cars with strangers." She frowned, working through it in her mind. "Maybe we need a car of our own."
"He's got a car," Matt said, looking at Derry.
Derry pushed himself backward, until he could brace himself in a sitting position against the wall.
"Give me your car keys, Derry," Matt said.
"No. No way in hell. You aren't-"
There was a half growl, half bark, and Crisa was holding him up in the air by the front of his shirt.
"Okay, okay!" He fished the keys from a pocket and tossed them to Matt.
"You shouldn't go with her, Matt. She's gonna take you right back to your father."
"Shut up," Crisa said, shaking him once.
"He's controllin' her mind, Matt. There's a chip in her head, and he has the remote. He can make her hand you over."
She slammed Derry into the wall-hard-and his neck snapped back. Then she just let go. He thudded to the floor, his head lolling to one side, eyes closed. There was a smear of blood down the wall, leading from where his head had made contact to where it was resting now.
Matt stared at him and blinked. "Is he...dead?"
Crisa knelt and looked at Derry. She tipped her head to one side, then all the way to the other. And then she stood up. "Nope.
Why? Do you want him to be?"
"No. He was pretty good to me, even if he was lying to me and using me. So is it true, what he said? Is my father controlling you?"
She shrugged. "There's a mean guy talking to me inside me head, telling me what to do. When I disobey, it hurts, and sometimes it hurts for no reason at all. But he can't make me do anything. He can only hurt me if I don't." She frowned at Matt.
"Do you think the mean guy in my head is your father?"
"Yeah, probably. Crisa, I don't want anyone to hurt you. And he will, if he can."
"I don't want anyone to hurt you, either," she told him. "And I won't take you back to your father...unless that's what you want.
Is it?" She seemed a little bit afraid of his answer.
"No way."
Her smile returned. "Good. So let's go. We'll find your mom for you."
She held out a hand.
Matt nodded and handed her the keys.
She looked at them, then smiled widely. "This should be fun. I never drove a car before."
"Uh. Okay, maybe you should give those to me," Matt said. She looked heartbroken, but she handed over the keys.
Matt thought she was just like a little girl, not like a grown-up at all. And that made him trust her all the more. It even made him feel like maybe he was the one who ought to be taking care of her.
He walked into the bathroom, and grabbed a big towel and the oversize terry bathrobe Derry had been using. "Here. Tuck these under your shirt, and once we get in the car, you can dry off and put the bathrobe on to keep warm. Okay?"
"Okay."
Matt stood a little straighter when he saw the gratitude in her eyes and pulled up the hood of his coat so he could stay dry. "His car is over this way, Crisa. It's not far. Let's go."
She nodded and followed. But as she did, she spoke, and for a minute, Matt was startled. "No," she said. "No, he doesn't want to come to you, and I won't bring him!"
And then she cried out in pain. Matt spun around to see her kneeling in a puddle, clutching her head.
"Fine!" she cried. "Kill me, then. I still won't do it. I can't!"
"Crisa? What's going on?" Matt helped her to her feet, opened the car door and settled her into the passenger side. He put her seat belt around her and buckled it, and then he went to the driver's side, got in and pulled the seat as far forward as it would go.
He started the car, found the headlight switch and turned them on. Then he put the car into gear and drove-very slowly-
forward. It wasn't as easy as he'd hoped it would be. Especially since he could barely see over the steering wheel.
"Where's my mom?" he asked.
Holding her head in her hands and rocking back and forth, she whispered, "North Carolina."
"Ahh, heck." He looked at the speedometer. He was going about fifteen, and he was scared to go much faster. "Maybe we'd better find a bus station and see if we can get a ticket. Do you have any money?"
"No." She squeezed her eyes tighter. He knew she was hurting. His dad was doing that to her.
He could probably rob somebody. God knew she could, if the pain would let up long enough to let her. And then they'd have money for the bus. But what if she died before they got there? What if this pain didn't stop?
She'd made it all the way from North Carolina to get to him, to take him away from Derry, all without a car or any money, or even a decent coat. She was soaked and exhausted. And now she was hurting really bad rather than turn him over to his dad, just because he said he didn't want to go.
He was right to trust her, he thought. She was probably the best person he'd ever met, besides his mom. She told the truth when she talked to him and she cared a whole lot, even though she'd never met him. He could feel how much she cared just pouring out of her. It was real. It made his chest feel kind of tight, and it made him care back.
"Let's just go find a place to rest, Crisa. Let's see if we can figure something out. You need a break. And probably something to-uh-drink."
She nodded. "But we have to get away from here a little. My friends are chasing me. And your dad is after me, too. Plus I think that guy back at the motel will be coming, too, pretty soon. We've gotta hide really good."
"We can do that," Matt promised.
She smiled at him through her pain. "I knew we'd be friends."
He knew it, too. He didn't know how he knew it, but he did. There was a warm feeling in his belly for her. He guessed it was partly something to do with her being a vampire and him being one of the Chosen, and maybe that stuff Deity had told him about them having a special connection hadn't been totally bogus, either.
It felt good to have someone who cared about him more than anyone else. He hadn't felt this good since he'd been with his mom.
Maybe, when they got back together, his mom would let him keep her. Like a big sister.
He kept driving the car but took one hand off the wheel long enough to tug the towel from where it was sticking out from under her shirt. "You'd better dry off," he said. "And get warm."
She looked at him, huge brown eyes searching. "Thanks," she said. And then she smiled as she rubbed the towel over her hair.
"Vampires don't really get cold, you know."
"Yeah, well, still..." He looked for the heater controls, figured them out and cranked it up for her as he continued driving, slowly, but a little faster than before, along the town's main road.
