26
You are a damned nuisance.” Greene’s voice was only slightly distorted coming through the speakers into the room. “The drugs in the pizza were supposed to keep you out for twenty-four hours.”
I’d been drugged. That explained the taste and the bindings. I’d never have let myself get in this situation otherwise. The pizza was delayed, cold, and tasted like crap. You’d think I would have been suspicious. Sheesh. And while I was still a little thickheaded, I was starting to be able to think through the sedative-induced fog. Let’s hear it for the vampire metabolism. Or maybe siren. Or both. Whatever, I was awake. But I couldn’t do anything. Yet.
“They haven’t even had time to get to the church yet, let alone link it to you and declare you a danger. I haven’t had time to meet with Dr. Scott.” She gave an exaggerated sigh. She stood behind the window in her sensible gray suit, arms crossed over her chest, fingers drumming absently against her arm. “Personally, I’d rather just kill you outright. But that would bring your werewolf into things and my employer has been very clear about not wanting him involved until after sunrise tomorrow.” My werewolf? Kevin wasn’t anywhere close to mine. Her fingers drummed faster. “We’ll try another shot. Perhaps a higher dose—” She turned and walked from the observation room.
I didn’t have long, perhaps only a minute or two. “Ivy, Vicki, are you here?” I tried to keep my voice a bare whisper so that it wouldn’t get picked up by the room’s monitoring equipment. Of course Greene had talked freely, so she had probably turned it off. But I decided to be quiet, just in case.
The temperature of the room dropped until I could see my breath fogging in the air. I wasn’t surprised. Ghosts are more likely to manifest when the person they’re attached to is in a strong emotional state. Can’t get much stronger than life-threatening terror. I could almost feel the adrenaline bubbling through my veins. “Find Dr. Scott. Tell him what’s happening. Then warn Reverend Al. Get Gran and Mom out of there.”
I rolled onto my back and began pulling against the confining straitjacket with all of my might. I’d had enough strength to strain the metal of the table back in the lab. It should be easy to Hulk my way out of a contraption of mere canvas and leather. Assuming, of course, it wasn’t bespelled. Which it probably was. But it wasn’t like I had a glut of options. So I struggled, and I pulled, and succeeded in just about pulling my own arms from their sockets. But spelled or not, the fabric was starting to give. I strained harder. To hell with it. My shoulders would heal. I wanted, needed, this damned thing off.
As if from a distance I heard the crash of waves, the call of gulls. And suddenly I knew. I had called power when I fell asleep at the office, had influenced Dr. Scott. And I could do it again. I concentrated as I pulled, thinking of Dr. Scott, of Gerry and every other male I knew who worked at Birchwoods. I didn’t know what time it was, didn’t really know what I was doing, but I had to try. Because here came Dr. Greene, carrying a needle, her sensible heels clicking briskly against the linoleum.
I pulled harder against the bindings, adrenaline roaring through my system, giving my senses the hyperfocus they’d had the other morning. Her breathing, harsh and loud. And, fainter, in the distance, but closing fast, running footsteps.
She lunged at me, syringe at the ready, but I was too quick for her. Moving with unnatural speed, I rolled, kicking at her knee with both feet. The blow connected hard, and with the extra strength behind it her knee didn’t just give, it tore, the bone breaking through the skin with a spray of blood.
Screaming, she fell to the floor, her lower leg nearly severed. Blood was everywhere, the scent nearly overpowering. She grabbed her leg, trying to apply pressure, but it wasn’t working.
My stomach growled, my eyes started to bleed red. I could see the needle, far from her reach. Hear the sound of her racing pulse as she stared at me in horror and growing fear. My arms were free, the straitjacket torn apart, but I couldn’t remember doing it. Couldn’t think past the roaring in my ears and the hunger that had drool running from the corner of my mouth.
She tried to back away, shoving herself with her good leg, a trail of smudged blood shocking red against the stark white linoleum.
I fought not to follow, fought every instinct with the one remaining shred of humanity left to me.
The door to the observation room slammed open. Gerry and Dr. Scott burst into the room, both panting hard from exertion. They took in the scene on the other side of the window with a single horrified glance.
“Thank God!” Greene shouted. “Save me. She’s gone feral!”
“Liar.” My voice sounded not the least bit human.
“Dr. Greene, please. Don’t antagonize her.” Dr. Scott’s voice was still a little breathy, but calm, and I could feel him using his talent to try to reach the part of me that was still human, to soothe and calm me. “Celia, you must stay calm. Vicki told me everything. The police are on the way here and to the church. You’ve done nothing wrong, and we’ll find proof of that. But you must hold on.”
I turned to look at him, the movement difficult and disjointed, as if my body were unwilling to follow the orders my brain was giving it. My skin was glowing.
“I’m going to send Gerry to get you some food, and then I’m coming in to treat Dr. Greene’s injury. I can’t let her die. Can you let me do that?”
“Yes.” I forced the word through clenched jaws.
“Good. Now if you’ll back up to the far corner, please.” He moved past Gerry, who was standing, pale and shaking, in front of the door. He’d switched off the intercom before turning to leave, but with my heightened senses I could still hear them as clearly as if we were in the same room.
“Are you insane? You can’t mean to go in there with that … thing.”
“I would remind you that Ms. Graves could easily have killed and eaten the doctor. She hasn’t. In fact, she’s shown admirable self-control. But it would be foolish to push the issue by leaving her in there with a bleeding woman. So go to the kitchen and get her some food. Now.”
Gerry left. I heard his footfalls going down the hall at a jog that was not quite a run. And I heard Dr. Scott’s gentle knock on the door.
I managed to make it through the next few minutes without killing anyone, but I don’t know how. It was one of the hardest things I’d done in my life. I wanted to kill Greene. Not just the beast in me, but the human part as well. Because a part of me felt she’d deserved it. Reverend Al was dead—the cops arrived in time to protect the people in the church from the bad guys, but the drugs in the pizza had reacted with the pain meds he was on for an old football injury. I knew all this because Vicki had Alex make some calls.
I’d been kidnapped and set up for a perfect frame. Even if I was proven not guilty in a court of law, I was a monster. I’d be locked up in one of the state institutions, probably never to see the light of day again.
But it didn’t happen.
Everything worked out exactly the way I needed it to. To the sound of ocean waves and the call of gulls. It wasn’t subtle, and there’d be a price to pay. But I did what I had to do.
Was it wrong to manipulate everyone I dealt with? Hell, yeah. Did I care? No. Because I was running out of time. Everything, from start to finish, was tied to the plots against King Dahlmar. Good people were dead, I’d been turned into a monster, and demons were loose in the city. While it seemed to me to be a lot of trouble just for a pool of natural gas under Rusland, there could well be things I wasn’t aware of yet.
Tonight the king would go to the World Series game. Tomorrow, first thing, he was scheduled to fly back home with his sons and entourage. Security before and after would be incredibly tight, but there’s only so much you can do in a crowded public venue. It was all going down at the game. I’d have bet my life on it. Greene’s comment about Kevin had just confirmed what I already suspected.
Gibson pulled up to the door of Birchwoods administration building in the same midsized Buick sedan I’d ridden with him in earlier. I was climbing into the front seat almost before the vehicle had come to a complete stop. I didn’t dare dawdle in case the mojo wore off. That was entirely possible, since I didn’t really know what in the hell I was doing.
I pulled the seat belt tight over my oh-so-chic gray Birchwoods sweats. At least they were clean, and better than the stuff I’d borrowed from Bruno, even if I was liable to die from heat prostration. “Did you get everything?” I reached into the bag on the seat next to me and began rifling through its contents.
“Yeah.” Gibson pulled the car around the circle drive, heading toward the gate. Gerry was there, but he didn’t smile or wave. No surprise.
“I’ve got to tell you, that little toy of yours is worth damned near as much as this car.” He didn’t bother to keep the disgust from his voice.
“Yeah, well, I’m the one paying for it. And if we need it, it will be worth twice the price.” I pulled out an assortment of gaudy holy items and a pair of mirrored sunglasses that I slipped on. Next were an Angels cap and a new denim jacket. I pulled the former onto my head and yanked the price tags off the latter, unbuttoning it to reveal the lining. Sure enough, tacked pockets. Perfect.
I slid a pair of single-shot squirt guns into the slots made by the stitching and began unwrapping the replacement sensor car. This time I’d splurged on the deluxe model. It looked exactly like the one Matty used. Taking it from the hinged jewel case it came in, I tucked it into my pocket and began skimming the directions. It worked basically the same way as my previous one, but with a few added features. Good to know.
Last, but not least, I grabbed the small blue water bottle with a sponge on the end that you can buy at any office supply store to seal envelopes. Twisting off the cap, I filled the bottle with holy water. Sealing it closed, I tucked it into the right side pocket of my jacket, the opposite side from where I’d put the gizmo. Taking a deep breath, I told myself I was ready.
