Weaken the Knees (The Immortal World Book 6)

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Weaken the Knees (The Immortal World Book 6) Page 12

by Shannon A. Hiner


  Finishing with the gun, she finally glanced up. Those indigo eyes were a winter sunrise, frosty and unwelcoming. “Something you’d like to say, William?”

  He was saved from attempting to answer that by a sound behind them. A door shut somewhere deeper in the building. Light flashed in the hall. Rene didn’t wait for him. She was sprinting down the hall and around a corner before Will could even blink.

  Doors slammed and locked through the building. Their quarry was always two steps ahead no matter how many locks Rene busted, how many doors she flattened. It dawned on Will too late.

  Circles. They were going in circles through the labyrinthine building. His wristwatch buzzed at him, but he ignored it.

  “Rene!” he called to her. “Something’s not right. It’s a goose chase.”

  She waved him off, frantic. Will growled under his breath and kept right behind her. Damned if he was going to leave her on her own. Her judgment was clearly not what it needed to be at the moment. A glimpse around a corner showed they had gained ground on their quarry. The man turned at a door to look back at them. He didn’t appear worried, however. He grinned at them, white teeth flashing in the darkness, and closed the door. A heavy metal door with industrial locks, by the sound of them sliding home.

  Rene growled and hurled herself down the hall, crashing into the door and leaving a girl-shaped impression in it. It dented, but otherwise didn’t budge. She went after the lock with an animalistic rage. The handle bent beneath her onslaught, but the door wouldn’t open. Finally, she turned on him and Will found himself in a narrow hall with an angry panther.

  “Open it. You’re stronger.”

  All the years he’d been waiting for her to ask for his help, this was what it took? Absolute, blind, desperation. Actually yeah . . . that sounded about right. Will approached the door, ignoring her erratic movements, ushering him closer to the door, urging him to hurry up. He stared at it and remembered the grin on the man’s face.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “Dammit all, Will.” Rene pushed him toward the door with more strength than was necessary. Her eyes were wild, uncontained. Honest to God, she was scaring him. This wasn’t Rene. Something else, someone else, had taken charge of her mind and body. “Hurry up, I need to get him.”

  “Who?” he asked, voice soft.

  She growled and gnashed her teeth like an animal.

  “Who, Rene? Who is it?”

  Blood dripped from her fists where her nails bit into the skin of her palms. She made to throw herself at the door again. Will caught her around the shoulders and kept hold of her. “Stop this, Rene. Stop.”

  She fought him, but Will wouldn’t let go. Her nails tore open his own skin, reached for his eyes, but he couldn’t let go.

  Then he smelled it. Curls of smoke reached under the battered door. Heated the metal from the outside.

  Fire.

  He swore. Pieces were starting to fit together and he didn’t like the picture that was forming. Whoever was playing cat and mouse with them was one clever mouse. A rat, more like. Will glanced down at his watch and swore even louder. Rene still fought him, but finally she smelled the smoke. She moaned. “Will, he’s escaping!”

  “Yes, he is,” he said matter-of-factly. “And we can’t change that today. However, if we manage to survive what comes next, I’ll most certainly help you kill the son of a bitch. Now, can you be good a moment?”

  She was breathing hard again. Totally unnecessary to any vampire function, but it seemed to be some sort of regressive coping mechanism. Her shoulders shook and he thought she might cry, but she wasn’t fighting him.

  “Good. We need to get away from this door, and find somewhere safe to hide.”

  “Hide? Hide!” The look of pure disgust on her face was almost comical. “I do not hide.”

  “You do from the sun, and this place is about to be filled with it.” Smoke was choking the corridor and the only thing stopping him from shimmering them both to safety was the knowledge that the sun was just peeking over the horizon. This was what he got for ignoring the alarm on his watch. “Come on.”

  Will grabbed Rene’s hand and pulled her back down the hall and deeper into the building. Smoke was pouring in from every direction and he could see the flicker of flames around a few corners. Rene tried to wrest her hand from his grip, but he wouldn’t let go. In her current state of mind he had no idea what she might do. A terrifying thought. Normally he could predict her every move.

  A vague memory of Kendra’s research on the building came back to him as he pulled Rene along. There was an industrial kitchen toward the back. Running at top speed, he led them through the maze of halls hoping he hadn’t imagined the feature, praying it had what they needed. A cracking in the drywall above their heads spurred him on faster. Heat clawed at his skin and smoke filled the top half of the hallway.

  Finally they rounded a corner and found themselves in a room filled with stainless steel counters, rows of wire racks, and cool tile flooring. Best yet, a large insulated metal door stood at the other end of the room. Will sped for it, wrenching open the door clasp and shoving Rene through the opening into the cool room beyond. Just in time too, as a portion of the ceiling caved in behind them and morning sunlight streamed through the opening.

  Will hissed as it burned his eyes and threw himself after Rene, catching the door’s inner handle and pulling it tight behind them.

  Cold, produce-smelling air circled them, filled the air with fog as it reacted to the heat pouring in with their entrance. He rested against the door with a sigh of relief. Across from him, Rene was lying on the cold ground, exactly where she’d fallen after he shoved her in. Her back leaned against a rack of food, dazed indigo eyes on Will, or the door . . . or maybe nothing at all.

  After a few minutes, the overhead light flickered out, and the motor cooling the room died.

  Pitch black silence engulfed them, only the sounds of the fire without met them now. Crackling hungry, angry, it ate at the building until the bones ached and groaned, falling inward and burying them alive.

  Chapter 13

  The silence was pressing in around her, squeezing her eardrums and liquefying her muscles. Her vision started to swim. Bright sparks of color exploded everywhere until it all started to go dark.

  “Rene.” His soft even voice was at her ear. She felt him close and her body reacted as if he was a snake. Shuddering, she huddled against the headboard. She needed to get out of sight, needed to hide. There was nowhere safe. There had never been anywhere safe. The silence remained unbroken. Until it was cracked wide open by his voice once more, just as she feared. “Rene, what is it?”

  Sarah. Where are you?

  It whispered along her spine and the sound that escaped her mouth sliced open the room. Too quiet. It was too quiet. He would hear her breathing, he would find her.

  The presence moved away, but she knew better than to hope by now, knew not to breathe too deeply, not to move a muscle. He would find her.

  Seconds passed and a sound began to fill the air. Tinkling keys, followed by deep thrums, they laced and weaved together to form a melody. Like a stream flowed into a creek, flowed into a river, the sound rose and built. Calm and comforting. It seeped deep into her, loosened her bones, rebuilt her muscles.

  An entire song passed before she opened her eyes. A new one started, similar to the last. She searched the room and found no one, the sound came from without. Slowly she rose from the bed and paced out into the hall.

  Her life, her new life, was slowly coming back to her. She wasn’t Sarah anymore. He wasn’t coming for her, because he could never find her. Safe. She was safe. The music filled her, chased away the silence and the sureness that he was just around the corner.

  In the main room, Tanner was seated at the piano, his long tapered fingers flowing over keys and bringing the melody to life. Bringing her back to life, as he’d already done once before. He looked up as she entered the room, a smile tugg
ed at the corner of his mouth. Crossing the room, Rene sat next to him on the bench, leaning her shoulder against his and feeling the way the music sounded within him first, then flowed through fingers to keys and out of the piano to become real.

  Tanner finished the song leisurely, letting the last notes have their breath and say, filling the air and floating away as if carried by an invisible breeze. He watched them go, his eyes lifting to follow them from the room and down the hall. Leaning back into her, he said nothing, just offered the steady support of his shoulder and understanding. Her throat was too tight. Not that vampires cried, but she could have, would have, had she still been alive.

  There were no words for what he’d done for her, continued to do for her. She could never repay him. But all he asked was that she live, live on, even in death.

  ∞∞∞

  Long minutes passed, maybe hours, before Rene’s breathing began to slow. Her chest ached, lungs burned. Not used to the workout. Why was she breathing? Why couldn’t she stop? It took so much concentration, too much, to make her chest cease its rise and fall. To convince her mouth to close, her nose to stop sucking in that stale, unnecessary oxygen.

  The air was heavy. Condensation and unspoken accusations weighted every molecule. She ran through it in her head again. One moment she thought she killed Will, the next she nearly did. Speeding through the building, following that eerie laugh, the familiar shadow. She had to prove it wasn’t him. Had to face the fear and know it to be false. And Will stopped her. Slowed her down like a pebble in her shoe. Dry sand on a beach. A two-ton manacle around her ankle.

  She hated him.

  He’d always annoyed the shit out of her. Always. From the first day she met him—him trying to be all sly by pretending to like the same music as her—he’d been a constant presumptuous irritant. But this . . . this surpassed every irritating thing he’d ever done. This put him squarely in a whole new realm.

  She despised him.

  She wished she had shot him.

  Sitting in front of the door with his knees bent in front of him and his arms casually resting atop, Will had the gall to close his eyes and lean back against the rack. So calm and resigned to the fate he’d assigned them. To sitting in a molding, sweating, stinking, man-sized refrigerator all day long.

  Rene ground her teeth together. She still had her gun. Her fingers caressed it idly; she didn’t even remember reaching for it. Tracing her index finger over the smooth barrel, she imagined Will’s face when she pulled it up and aimed it at his heart. Imagined how his disbelief would turn to shock as the blood blossomed across his chest and stained his jacket.

  He sighed.

  Yes, he would sigh . . . as his heart bled out and he came to terms with his death. But not before he was shocked, surprised, and broken-hearted over what she’d done to him. Finally.

  Will shook his head. “If you’re going to do it; do it now. I’d rather get it over with.”

  Beelzebub’s by-blow, had she said that aloud?

  He cracked one eye open and stared across the refrigerator at her. Even in the dark of the fridge she could see the gentle humor in his warm brown iris. The color that took her home—before this second life, before her first life had become a waking nightmare—to the long walks through the chestnut groves at dusk with her father.

  “Besides,” he murmured. “The way you’re stroking that gun is making me feel all sorts of confused inside.”

  Her hand ceased moving immediately and she glared at him. Will just grinned and closed his eye again.

  “I hate you,” she muttered under her breath, folding her arms across her chest while angling her body away from him. It made her feel like a petty child though, and her jaw clenched against the instinct to unfold from the position.

  He sighed again.

  A twitch started in the back of her neck, just above the shoulder blade. Fingers clenching into her palms she had to force herself to be still and not react.

  “The truth is you’re scared.” The words came soft but sure. For a moment Rene thought she’d imagined them.

  Glancing at him, she found he hadn’t moved a centimeter. His eyes were still closed, as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

  “Very few things scare me, William,” she said. “You are not one of them.” Good, her voice was firm, assured. For a brief moment, she felt like herself. It was a bit of a shock. How long since she’d felt like herself?

  The refrigerator was silent so long Rene thought he wouldn’t respond. Fine by her. The last thing she needed was to spend the day trapped in a tiny room arguing with William Rynquist. Unbending slightly from her pouting pose, she rolled her neck and finally managed to stop breathing. Her lungs burned slightly, and her throat was raw. She needed blood, but her body would hold until nightfall. She’d just be uncomfortable.

  Just as she was beginning to relax enough to sleep she heard it: one word. Quiet and assured, like everything he did.

  “Liar.”

  ∞∞∞

  Rene fell asleep before midday. Will let her rest. Once she was well asleep, he opened his eyes and watched her. Judging by the circles under her eyes and the gaunt quality of her cheeks, she should have been hunting dinner the night before, not the Venor. Will rubbed his own eyes and shifted so that the food rack behind him would dig into a different part of his back.

  He would have liked to sleep as well, but couldn’t let himself. The sounds of the fire still carried on outside the refrigerator, but they had lessened over the hours. A new fear was growing on him. If the firefighters were able to put out the blaze, how soon before they uncovered the metal box that was currently the only thing between Will and Rene returning to dust and ashes? The fear weighed on him long and hard.

  After a while he stood, careful not to disturb Rene, and took hold of one of the food racks. Peeling back the metal bars like putty, he snapped one off and wrapped it around the door handle. He used a few smaller pieces to secure the hinges so they wouldn’t turn easily. Anything to give them just a little more time.

  As he turned to settle back in, Rene’s sleep-thick voice asked, “What’re you doing?”

  “Locking you in with me.” He couldn’t help the teasing smile. No matter how many times she lashed out at him, he couldn’t help it. God, but he was a sick one. “You’ll never escape me now.”

  Her brows drew together in a considering frown before one rose in a perfect, beautiful arch.

  Will laughed as he sat down next to her. She must be truly exhausted, because she didn’t move to put extra space between them.

  “You’re ridiculous,” she muttered without any sting, blinking her eyes shut again.

  It was official. He liked sleepy Rene. “Will you tell me something?”

  “Something.”

  Will rolled his eyes. “Thanks, smartass.”

  She gave him a sloppy salute, eyes still closed.

  He considered his next question carefully. He couldn’t ask the one he really wanted to, not yet. Vague would be the best route, innocuous. “What state were you from? As a human?”

  “Massachusetts,” she said, shrugging.

  “Virginia,” he offered back. “What year were you born?”

  She opened her eyes slowly, frowning. “Are you trying to steal my bank account information or something?”

  “Maybe.” He grinned.

  “My first pet’s name was Sissy. Mother’s maiden name Becker. My favorite color is—”

  “Black. I know.”

  “You aren’t going to tell me yours?”

  “You don’t know?” he teased.

  Rene rolled her eyes but didn’t respond.

  “Indigo,” he said without thinking, then winced and avoided looking into her eyes.

  “That’s an oddly specific shade.” She watched him too closely. “Should I correct mine to onyx?”

  Will sighed. He wouldn’t take the bait. He wasn’t in the mood to play one of her games at the moment. Deciding to let his line of question
ing fall by the wayside, he remained silent and settled back against the food rack once more. Rene, having got what she wanted—him to shut up—didn’t press for an answer. Peeking through one barely raised lid, Will saw her close her eyes as well and, presumably, go back to sleep.

  How many times had he come so close, only to give up at the last second? It was never the right time. She was never in the right mood. He cracked a smile. Rene really didn’t have a right mood, he supposed. Oh well. It would hold. They had forever, after all. Especially if they survived tonight.

  ∞∞∞

  Too quiet. The sounds of the fire had died away. Only the occasional piece of falling plaster or swaying beams gave sound to the outer world. Within the refrigerator it was unbearable. No breath, no movement, not even heartbeats to fill the stale, damp air with sound. Rene was starting to fear she was going deaf. Every so often she twitched one of her feet just to make sure she could still hear, that the fridge wasn’t some sort of sound vacuum. If she got out of there alive, she’d never travel anywhere without an MP3 player again.

  Will hadn’t moved in hours. His eyes were closed, but Rene had the distinct impression he was still awake. The way he’d placed his body between her and the door, the metal he’d used to secure it, she knew what he was doing. What he always did. Protect. Normally it grated on her nerves. Currently she was too tired and hungry to care.

  Too hungry also to sleep, she was stuck in her state of exhaustion with no chance of relief. Rather than thinking of what she would do the second she got out of the refrigerator (go home, drink cold disgusting hospital blood, and put her earbuds in), Rene found herself mulling over Will’s strange bout of personal questions earlier.

  What was he up to? Why should he care where or when she was from as a human? That life was dead and buried, just the way she liked it. She’d never let anyone resurrect that scared, weak, human girl. She was dead. Rene had risen from the grave and every connection was severed.

  Her leg twitched of its own accord, connecting with Will’s shin. Raised brows turned on her. Why was the room so small? She was already pressed up against the food racks, but stretch one leg too far and she was practically on top of Will. “That was an accident, I swear.”

 

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