Nic wasn’t about to let some psycho-freak be the one to defeat her.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” she singsonged.
A loud creaking echoed through the timber. Nic counted her breaths to five before she peeked around the tree.
Cassy stood a few feet shy of the roof overhang, her head tilted to the side and a drunken slump to her body. Her hair hung in oily strands around her face, and her clothing looked rumpled and streaked with dirt. From her vantage point, Nic couldn’t tell if anything worse had happened to her sister, but her condition set Nic’s blood to boiling.
A shadow lingered in the doorway behind Cassy. As expected, Patrick was using her sister as protection.
“What did you do to her, Patrick?”
He tsked. “Patrick is such a childish name, don’t you think? It seemed befitting my role here in Eider, but I prefer The Priest.”
“Patrick, Priest, whatever, you might as well give yourself up. It’ll make it easier on you.”
“That’s not how this works, Nicolette. There are steps you are expected to take to accomplish your atonement.”
Nic had to smile at his arrogance. “Just how do you think you’re going to make me do it when you can’t control me like you did the others?”
“Your resistance to the drugs is unfortunate and unexpected. But Cassandra isn’t so lucky.”
She had to get his mind off of Cassy and on her. Shift the focus and maybe she could get him out from behind her sister.
“What makes you think I need to atone for anything?”
The Priest chuckled, such an odd, old sound from someone who was ten plus years her junior. “Sinners abound. Some are unrepentant, like you. The commandments you’ve broken justify your death; it’s the only way to cleanse your soul and prepare you for your salvation.”
“Who says I’m ready to die? I’ve lived through countless tours with some pretty hairy situations that should have killed me, yet here I am. So what gives you the right to put an expiration date on my life?”
“I’ve been given the authority.”
“By who?”
“God.”
Ah, hell, he truly was the picture of a mental basket case. How had he managed to hide this deranged thinking from them for as long as he had? Not once in her talks with him had he ever spouted any of this mumbo jumbo.
“I think you’ve been sniffing too much holy water, Priest.”
“Mock me all you wish, Nicolette, but your atonement will come, and it will come today.”
Cassy made a startled gasp, which brought Nic to her feet, weapon in hand, and around the tree. She froze. The camouflaged canvas had been dropped to reveal what it had been hiding.
Wrists lashed together by rope and suspended by his arms from a thick tree branch hung The General. His naked torso glistened under the sunlight, and his feet skimmed the ground. Thin streaks of blood ran the length of his arms. The gag in his mouth showed dots of blood against the white. Pain etched into his features, making Nic’s stomach cramp.
She tried not to envision Aiden hanging there by his neck. She had to keep focused on the present. Her father wasn’t Aiden; he was hanging by his arms and not his neck. He was still alive.
“Quite the family reunion we have here.”
Nic tore her attention from her father, leveling her gun at her unseen foe. “You sick, twisted bastard.”
“I found it prudent to bring all parties involved in this cleansing.”
A hand appeared on Cassy’s shoulder, making her jerk. Her sister couldn’t drag her drugged gaze off of their degraded father.
Nic refused to look at him again. Some horrible part of herself wanted to be vindicated in his humiliation. Seeing the great and mighty general taken down by some lowly criminal. But she wouldn’t celebrate it; she refused to cater to The Priest and his game.
“What? No questions? No demands?”
Swallowing, Nic inched her way right, hoping to get a clearer shot of him.
“Stay where you are, Nicolette. I’m aware of what you’re trying to do, and believe me, it won’t work.”
“Maybe you are and maybe you aren’t. I know this setup is meant to keep you in charge. And I know at some point you’re going to start spouting some religious BS and tell me what I should do to feed into your fetish.”
“This is no fetish; this is my calling. The good I do here will have lasting benefits to everyone I’ve helped.”
“You’re not helping anyone. You’ve aided in the deaths of three people, and God knows how many before coming here. I had a nice, long chat with Father Evans yesterday, and he revealed an interesting counter to your screwed-up philosophy.”
That got to him. He moved out of the shadows and closed what little distance was between him and Cassy, making sure to hide his vital parts.
“That man has no right to the priesthood. He soils the church with his leniency and blind eye to the sins running wild among his flock.”
“But you see, he’s come to a higher understanding that you’ve failed to recognize.”
“There is no higher understanding than what is laid out before us in the commandments. None!”
She was getting to him. Keeping her gun leveled on that all-important spot to the left of Cassy, Nic mentally prepared for the shot. “That’s where you’re wrong, Priest. Everyone breaks the commandments, even you. Thou shalt not murder. You should have looked further into your Bible and read the part that says, ‘whoever takes a human life shall surely be put to death.’”
The Priest laughed. “You want to compare what I do for God with what you’ve done on your own? The difference between me and you is that I have not put my hand to any who have perished, whereas you have been instrumental in the deaths of many.”
Guilt nipped at Nic’s mind. She had killed so many, but that was in war.
“Not so confident in your Father Evans now, are we?” The Priest’s taunt jarred Nic.
How had Seth Moore died? By a gunshot wound to the head. Nic mentally ran through what she knew of those cases. Giselle! Giselle had bruises on her legs where someone had restrained her. The Priest was lying.
“Actually, I’m more confident in the evidence.” She needed to head the other direction, toward her father. First rule of combat, keep your enemy in sight, and second, always keep him off guard. “You claim you didn’t lay a hand on any of the victims, but Giselle Tomberlin’s body says differently.”
The Priest stiffened then shifted behind Cassy. “Falsehoods. Guilt won’t sway me.”
“Won’t it? The bruising on Giselle’s legs point to you holding her under the water. She had a blood condition that caused it. Bet you weren’t aware of that, or you might not have grabbed her.”
She was closer to her father, could smell the fear pouring from him and see the whites of his eyes. It was unsettling seeing him like this. All those years he’d been larger than life, hardened, callous. A man not moved by any emotion, willing to sacrifice the lives of men for one single mission. In the end, she was the one in control.
“I’ve had enough of this banter. It’s time to proceed with the atonement.”
At The Priest’s prodding, Cassy stumbled forward, her upper body bending forward enough for Nic to glimpse the Sig—her Sig—in his hand. He had been there that night and had taken her gun, probably after he bashed in her head. Nic’s eyes narrowed as he pushed Cassy closer to her and The General, but The Priest kept himself safely hidden behind her sister’s body.
“Cassandra, you know what to do.”
It was like a light bulb went on inside Cassy’s head. Nic could only watch in horror as The Priest transferred the Sig to Cassy, who leveled it at Nic. Panic shot through her, but her training kicked in and she adjusted for the change in threat.
“Cassy, put it down.”
Muffled noises came from The General, churning Nic’s panic into a frenzy that was shutting down her training. Yet the sounds didn’t faze her sister. Cassy advanced on Nic, fo
rcing her to backpedal, attempting to keep at least seven yards between them and failing horribly as Cassy moved faster.
“Put it down. Don’t let him control you.”
“I warned you, Nicolette,” Patrick called out, “your atonement would come. It won’t come by your own hand, I’m afraid.”
“Damn it, Cassy, snap out of it!” Nic dared not look behind her to check for debris that would trip her up. In her heart, she knew that as soon as she took her eyes off Cassy, her sister would shoot.
As they moved further from the shelter of the cabin, The Priest kept close proximity to Cassy, still using her as a shield. It was possible that he suspected Con’s presence out there and wasn’t taking any chances.
“She hasn’t been around you long enough for you to get control over her like this.”
“You underestimate the power of the drugs. Cassandra’s anxiety and guilt over you made it so easy to sway her.”
“Guilt? If anyone would have been an easy sway it’s me. I’m just chock-full of guilt.”
“If it were only that easy. It seems you’re too strong-willed. Try as you might, Nicolette, you could never find it in yourself to end your life now. You found a lifeline, a reason to live. And that was the powerful motivator to help you resist the drugs at the dosage most women need.”
“But Cassy hasn’t?”
“Seems not. Guess the final blow that led to her disillusionment was Brigadier General Rivers’s greatest sin. Ah, she told me more than you would like to know.”
If they got out of this alive, Nic was going to beat the shit out of Agent Asshole for putting Cassy in this position.
Nic’s heel smacked into a length of wood, nearly upsetting her. She shifted to the left, circling back to her father. If she could expose The Priest’s back, maybe Con could take a shot. Their perp seemed to anticipate her thoughts and said something in a low voice to Cassy, who then sidestepped and forced Nic’s back to the spot where she wanted Con to set up the rifle. Nic’s heart rate jumped, and the calm she’d held on to for so long was quickly evaporating.
“Cassy, come on, listen to me. He’s the enemy, he’s going to make you kill me, then Pop, and then he’ll tell you that you’ll have to die, too. Don’t let him win.”
“You’re not going to get through to her. She’s mine.”
“Cassy, stop this.”
The Sig trembled in her sister’s hands. Nic could see the war waging across her face. Somewhere inside, Cassy was trying to fight off his influence. With that realization came another. Nic stopped moving and lowered her weapon. If it was atonement The Priest wanted, atonement he’d get.
Con, it’s up to you, you crazy Irishman.
Releasing her hold on her weapon, Nic let it swing on her finger by the trigger guard and then spread her arms out. Her actions brought Cassy to a halt, and from behind her, Nic spotted the surprise on The Priest’s face.
“Do it. Send me to my atonement.” Closing her eyes, she let her head fall back. “Release me.”
“No, this isn’t how … Cassandra.”
Muffled screaming came from The General’s position, but Nic ignored it, bracing for the bullet’s impact. When it didn’t come, she peeled her eyes open to see Cassy wavering, tears streaming from her eyes.
Nic gave her a smile and then nodded. “It’s okay,” she whispered.
The gun went off. Nic jerked as fire ripped through her body and blood spattered against her face. She clutched her armpit just above her breast, felt the slick heat seeping between her fingers, then collapsed.
Through the blinding pain robbing her of her breath, Nic heard the yelling and screams, then the echoing boom. Her head lolled to the side, spotting her sister’s arm flying up and the pink spray misting the air behind her. Two bodies hit the ground feet from where Nic lay. She raised a bloodied hand toward Cassy, crying out her name.
Weakened, Nic’s hand dropped as the darkness yanked her from the world.
• • •
Con abandon Nic’s rifle and ran. Sweat coated his skin, and his heart was trying to make an escape from his ribs. He couldn’t believe what he’d done. What Nic had done.
He reached her side and fell to his knees next to her body. Her eyes were closed, and her breaths were shallow. “Nic, what the hell were you thinking?”
Ripping his shirt over his head, he wadded it up and pressed it against her wound. He rammed his fingers under her chin and found a pulse, but it was fluttering at best.
The heavy fall of running feet brought his head up. Shane and Agent Hunt exploded into the yard, Hunt going straight for Cassy. Con wanted to throw up. He’d hit Cassy in his attempt to kill Patrick.
“Oh, holy saints, let her be alive,” he breathed. Shane knelt next to Con. “Is Nic … ?”
“Barely. We’ve got to get her out of here.” Shane cued the radio on his shoulder, calling for an AirVac unit.
Con bowed over Nic’s body. “You stay with me. Don’t you dare die on me.” He cradled her head in his free hand and let his forehead rest against hers. “I’m not losing you. Not after I just got you.”
She’d sacrificed herself in order for him to get the shot. She’d trusted him enough to end it and save her sister. But he wasn’t about to let her be a martyr.
Lifting the bloodied tactical shirt, he ripped it open, exposing the wound. It was high enough to miss her heart, but he was afraid the bullet clipped something vital. He returned the makeshift medical dressing and silently begged the chopper to hurry up.
A shadow fell over Nic’s body. William, freed from his bondage, fell to his knees and stared at his wounded daughter. He glanced at Con. “Is she ... Why’d … ?” He stuttered over the words.
William Rivers looked like he wanted to throw up, if the loss of color in his face was any indication. Con felt nothing for the man. Despite all the pain William had inflicted on Nic, she’d still sacrificed herself for him. Had she made that decision when she released her weapon and threw her head back, begging Cassy to shoot her? Had she been thinking of her father, too?
More importantly, had the prick realized what Nic did?
Con glared at the man. “Nic won’t die. I won’t let her.”
“Con, the chopper is en route!” Shane hollered. “We need to get Nic to a clearing so they can pick her up.”
William fumbled backward, rising to his feet in an awkward stumble as he tried to get out of the way. Con grabbed up Nic under her arms while Shane took her legs. With her head resting against his chest, Con gave Shane a nod, and they hurried to the landing spot.
“You’ll make it through this,” Con whispered in her ear, “and I’m going to put an end to your loneliness.”
Chapter Thirty-seven
The first thought to hit Nic: she was alive.
The next was: she hurt like hell. She grimaced and moaned.
“She’s awake.”
At the sound of Emma’s voice, Nic pried her eyes open.
Her stepmother hovered above her, her strained features relaxing into a smile. “Welcome back, Nic.” She smoothed back tangled strands of hair, stroking Nic’s forehead. The warm hand felt good.
“What happened?”
“Don’t you remember?”
Nic scrunched her face, trying to access her memories. Images she couldn’t put together flashed through her mind’s eye. “Not really.”
A damp hand took hold of hers. Slowly, she turned her head.
“Oh.” The General’s normally stone facade was missing. He looked down at their joined hands, rubbing his thumb over her sore knuckles. The uncustomary tenderness sent chills coursing through her. She resisted the urge to remove her hand from his, but it didn’t stop her from tensing.
“You saved Cassy.”
Of course, his first thought would always be for Cassy. Wait. Nic blinked. He’d never, as long as she could remember, used their nicknames. He was stringent about using their given ones.
He met her shocked gaze. “And you saved me.”
Suddenly her head was flooded with the memories. She’d taken away The Priest’s control and let Cassy shoot her.
“She was shot—”
“Detective O’Hanlon hit her when he killed the other man. She’ll have a scar on her face, but she’s fine,” her father assured her.
She considered him her father. The realization lifted a weight from Nic she’d been carrying for so long. She weakly squeezed his hand. “Pop.”
A tepid smile appeared. Nic wanted to weep from the sight. He was smiling at her. God, she couldn’t remember the last time he’d done that.
The smile faded, replaced by the expression of a confused man. “Nic, I … was wrong.” He almost choked on the admission.
Emma had slipped around the bed and placed her hands on his shoulders.
Nic swallowed to loosen the tightness in her throat, but she couldn’t stop the tears from escaping. Damn it, she’d never been weepy. What the hell was he doing? She’d been resigned to the fact that he would always despise and reject her. This wasn’t The General.
“I just wanted you to know.”
Turning her head away, she stared at the wall.
“Let’s let her be, William.” Emma squeezed Nic’s leg in farewell.
Her father lingered a moment, stood, and placed a gentle kiss on her hand. Her body went cold at the show of affection. He set her hand back on the bed and left.
Once she heard the door click shut, Nic released a sob. He’d done something so out of character for him, she couldn’t wrap her head around it. She still wanted to hate him. Admitting he was wrong was as close as she might get to an apology, but it wasn’t enough. Not after all those years of agony. She didn’t know where to begin to allow him back into her heart. It had been too easy to hate him, but if she had to admit it to herself, that little girl deep inside was the one who helped her make the decision out there in the woods. It wasn’t just Cassy Nic was saving from The Priest.
Pressing her hand to her mouth, she let the wrenching sobs control her, even though they hurt her wounded body. Her crying jag was so all-consuming, she didn’t hear him enter until he knelt next to the bed and soothed her.
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