Touching Darkness

by Jaime Rush

  The man came at him again, and this time Nicholas was ready. He rammed his elbow into his face. The man’s knee came up and slammed into Nicholas’s balls. Pain wracked him, forcing him to bend forward. He dropped his knife.

  Push past it.

  The other guy’s knife came down. Nicholas grabbed his wrists. They were face-to-face, force against force. He couldn’t lose. Olivia’s life depended on it. She was still alive. Her quick, panting breaths were filled with fear.

  The man tried to knee him again, but Nicholas twisted out of the way. Blood trickled down his arm, and the pain seared down the line of the cut. Both men grunted with exertion.

  The guy spun around, nearly snapping Nicholas’s arm until he had to let go. He lifted the knife. Nicholas spun out of the way. But he wasn’t aiming at Nicholas; he plunged the knife down where Olivia was.

  “Noooo!” The word tore from his throat.

  Still bent, he rammed the guy, sending him to the ground on the other side of Olivia. He landed on him, their bodies colliding. Nicholas tried to get in a punch, but the guy rolled them over and threw his fist into Nicholas’s chin. Stunned, he couldn’t gather his wits to respond fast enough. The guy pounded him again and again, quick as a striking rattlesnake. Nicholas lifted his hands to ward off the blows. Darkness throbbed in and out of his vision.

  The guy leapt up, reached down next to Olivia, and ran off into the night. Olivia. Nicholas couldn’t speak. A wall as black as the abyss swept in. Need to get to her. To help…

  The physical agony was nothing compared to what he felt inside. He had come so close and failed.

  CHAPTER 26

  The sound pulled Nicholas from the depths of darkness into pain and consciousness. Sobbing. He was crying…. because Olivia was dead. Oh, God…dead. How long had he been out? He tried to pull his thoughts together under the onslaught of vicious memories.

  He winced from the pain that ripped through him. Pain beyond his aching balls and the slice down his arm and bruises on his face. Emotional pain tore him to shreds from the inside out.

  Except he wasn’t crying.

  His eyes snapped open. It was a woman’s cries. Olivia! He rolled to his side, the movement excruciating. She was trying to crawl to him, her hands still bound. Her tears glittered in the silvery light.

  “Don’t move,” he said.

  He couldn’t believe she was moving at all. Where had the son of a bitch stabbed her? She mumbled something. He crawled over to her, shoving the gag from her mouth. She spit out more material, and he pulled it out. He held her face. “Don’t move. I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner.”

  “You got here soon enough. Get my hands free.”

  He patted the ground, looking for his knife. He felt the cold metal and found the handle. He gently took her arms and held them in the shaft of moonlight so he could see better. Damn, he wished she’d stop shaking for a second. He didn’t want to cut her. He clamped her arms in his hand and pulled the knife up to cut the material.

  “I’ve got to get you to the hospital,” he said.

  “No, he didn’t…he didn’t rape me.”

  “But he stabbed you.”

  She shook her head, running her hand over her body. Her dark pajamas were askew, the bottoms pulled low on her hips. Without thinking, he ran his hands over her, too. “I can’t tell if there’s blood.”

  “These are dark red. But I’d feel it.”

  His hand felt her bare stomach, the smooth skin free of sticky blood, and connected with hers. He looked at her. “He missed. Must have.”

  Her body was trembling. She nodded, laughing, then crying.

  “Olivia.” He pulled her into his arms. She trembled as she cried. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?”

  “Yes. I just want to go…no, I can’t go home.” Her voice pitched higher. “He came into my home and brought me here.”

  “He broke in?”

  “Broke in…” She looked at him. “It sounds crazy, even though I experienced it. He broke into my dreams.” Her whole body convulsed. “Did you know someone could do that?”

  “Lucas can. He looked like Lucas Vanderwyck.”

  “It’s his twin brother. My father brought him into the program right after you left. He told me he could get into dreams and possess people. I was having these nightmares, and I thought it was because of your warning. I didn’t believe in special skills, not this special! But it was him.” He could hear her disgust and anger. “And my father, he knew, he brought these people, you, together, he…” She trembled violently.

  He held her tighter, feeling everything inside him open up and pour out like a waterfall. Lucas’s twin. He could barely get his head around that. All he really cared about right then was that she was all right.

  She put her hands on his face and pressed his bruised flesh. He held back the gasp of pain. “I thought he’d…killed you. I saw him…beating you.” Now her tears were for him. Her teeth were chattering, cutting up her sentences. “You found me, out here. My father said you were a finder, and well, there’s no normal way you could have found me.” Her words were a rush, her adrenaline, and he knew she was still trying to work it out.

  “I had help this time. Lucas not only sees the future through drawings; he also gets flashes of images. He saw enough to get me here. I couldn’t find you for some reason. I kept getting a block, but I found this place by going above. Lucas and even Eric Aruda had as much to do with saving you as I did.”

  She curled into him, her hands tightening in the folds of his shirt. “Get me out of here.”

  He helped her to her feet. “Do you want me to carry you?”

  “No, I can walk.”

  He led the way to the parking lot, watching their surroundings, hyperalert the whole way. “Your car is gone. He must have taken it.”

  “Can you find him?”

  “I want to get out of here first. He’s going to take off, escape. I’ll be able to alert the police.” His mouth tightened. “Or find him myself.”

  He opened the Camry’s passenger door, helped her in, and jumped in on the driver’s side. She sat sideways, facing him, leaning against the seat. She looked small and vulnerable, another side to this unfathomable woman. Wasn’t that what he loved about exploring, plunging into the depths of underwater caves? He touched her chin, wanting so much to take all this away. He forced himself to start the car and leave.

  “You should call your father, tell him what kind of monster he’s got working for him.”

  She nodded, her hazel eyes wide and slightly glazed.

  “I can’t let you use my phone. I don’t want him to see the number. We’ll find a phone booth.”

  He drove for twenty minutes, wanting to get out of the area. He stopped at a gas station and pulled around back where it was dark. “I’m going to find him.” He sat back and went into the ether. A minute later he shook his head. “As soon as I got close, he kicked me back.”

  “We have to find him!”

  “Your father will be motivated to find him, too. Are you up for talking to him?”

  She nodded again, and he ran around to open the door and help her out. He had to lean back in and dig around in the ashtray for change. When was the last time he’d used a pay phone? He walked her to the booth, his arm around her waist. She looked up and gasped.

  “What?”

  “Oh, Nicholas.” She reached up to his face but faltered. “You’re a mess. Maybe you should go to the hospital.”

  “Too many questions. I’m fine. You’re the one I’m worried about.”

  A man walking to his car did a double take when he passed them; he hurried on.

  Nicholas saw his reflection in the laminated metal on the booth’s wall. Its distortions made him look worse. He dropped the coins in the slot.

  She punched in the numbers with trembling fingers. She stared out the glass, fear in her expression. After a moment, she said, “It’s Olivia…” Her voice broke. “Sayre Andrus tried to
rape me! He lured me out of my condo, in my dreams, he controlled me!” She took a breath. “And now he’s out there…No, it wasn’t Lucas. He had that Southern accent…. check the estate…All right, call me back at this number. I’m at a phone booth…no, check first. I’m safe here.” Her gaze met his.

  She didn’t say she was with him. That was good. “He’s calling the guard posted outside Sayre’s door.”

  He pulled her against him, stroking her hair. Her arms went around his waist, and she settled against him, a perfect fit. God, what he felt for her. The thought of losing her, of nearly losing her…he could admit it now. Soon he’d be delivering her to her father, to safety, and he’d be out of her life forever.

  The phone rang. He picked it up and handed it to her.

  “Yes?”

  Nicholas leaned close so he could hear.

  “Olivia, Andrus is there. Moreover, the guard said he asked for an antacid an hour ago.”

  “No way, he was with me.”

  “I asked the guard to check, and he woke up Andrus. The man is there, Olivia. The man who had you was Lucas. You put yourself in danger by telling Nicholas who you are. Now they’re targeting you. Where are you? I’m coming to get you.”

  She hung up, tears streaming down her face. “He’s convinced himself of his truth. He’s blinded with righteousness the same way I’ve been blind to his darkness.”

  He wiped the tears, but they were coming too fast.

  “I don’t know where to go,” she whispered, more to herself.

  “You’re coming with me.”

  He wouldn’t leave her alone, not now.

  Not ever.

  No, he didn’t have ever. “We’d better get out of here in case he traces the call.”

  With his arms around her, he led her back to the car. She was like a little girl who’d lost everything, and he felt the need to find, to fix, to complete. What she’d lost he could never find. Like his father, hers was gone too, but in a way even more devastating. He pulled her into his arms once again and kissed her temple. “It’s going to be all right.”

  She shook her head. “It’s never going to be all right again.”

  Olivia thought they’d been driving for days, but it had only been an hour. She tried to push away thoughts of the previous hours, of the violation. It all seemed like a nightmare, and for now, she wanted to believe it was. She closed her eyes, but images played like a movie on the screen of her eyelids. She stared into the darkness down where her feet were.

  Nicholas’s hand rested on her thigh as he drove. When a streetlight lit the interior of the car, she felt his gaze on her. She looked up and cringed at the bruises on his face. He’d saved her life but almost lost his own.

  She reached out to touch his arm and gasped. “You’re bleeding!”

  He glanced down. His sleeve was dark with blood, and a fierce slash went down to his elbow.

  “It’s not bleeding anymore.”

  “How…? He cut you, didn’t he?”

  “It’s not that bad.”

  “It needs to be cleaned, probably stitched. You should see a doctor.”

  “I’ll take care of it when we get back.”

  It couldn’t be too bad if he was driving. Still, it worried her. Then she realized she had no idea where they were headed. “Are we going to your house?”

  His mouth tightened. “I can’t go home.” She knew he was too nice to tell her the reason: her father. “I’m taking you to the Rogues’ hideout. You’ll be safe there.”

  Her pulse jumped in her throat. “We can’t go there. You didn’t see what they did to Jerryl. They burned him. I can’t be with those people.”

  “Jerryl was dangerous. I didn’t like how he was killed, but it was the only way.” He turned off the main road into a residential area. Her expression was still set in a stubborn frown. “Livvie, it’s the only place I can take you.”

  No, not to those savages. Nicholas is one of them. One of them, but not.

  “If I take you somewhere else, like a hotel, your father will find us. He’ll grab you, and he’ll kill me. Neither of those possibilities works for me. And I’m not leaving you alone. The hideout has a protective psychic shield over it, so he won’t get to you there. It’ll give you a couple of days to catch your breath.”

  She couldn’t endanger him. And, dammit, she wasn’t ready to be alone, either. “All right.”

  “But,” he continued in a tone of voice that told her she wasn’t going to like what he was going to say, “I can’t let you see where the hideout is. I trust you, but they won’t, and I can’t disregard their need to keep it safe. When we get closer to where it is, you’re going to have to look down or close your eyes. And…I’m going to have to blindfold you when we get there, just for a few minutes. Bringing you to the one place they feel safe without protecting them would be a huge violation of their trust in me. Your father’s hunting them. I hope you understand.”

  She looked at him. He was serious. “No way.”

  He let out a long breath. “I know it’s a lot to ask after what you just went through. I wouldn’t if it wasn’t so important.”

  “No, Nicholas. I can’t.” She twined her fingers. “Do they know I’m Darkwell’s daughter?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. I kind of freaked when I realized you were in danger and slipped. Now you understand why I have to assure them that you can’t lead anyone to the only safe place they—we have.” We.

  “All right. I don’t like it, but all right.” Because she had nowhere else to go. No one to go to but this man who’d saved her life. “How did you come to join them? I don’t understand how that happened. You’re not a guy who storms buildings with guns or kills people. You weren’t even comfortable finding the Rogues for my father.”

  “The Rogues don’t kill indiscriminately. When Cheveyo rescued Zoe Stoker in Key West as an assassin was about to take her out, he could have killed the guy. He incapacitated him instead. Rand Brandenburg had to shoot the guy when he caught them by surprise, and I could see it tore him up. It was kill or be killed.” His voice got soft. “I didn’t think I could ever kill another human being, but seeing that guy with you…” He looked at her. “If I’d had the upper hand, I would have killed him.”

  His words thudded heavy in her chest. She saw what it would have cost him to do that. The emotion underlying the statement scuttled through her body.

  He told her what Petra had said and everything else that had happened since. “Do you understand now why I wanted my father’s folder badly enough to sneak into Darkwell’s office twice?”

  “Now I wish I hadn’t stopped you.”

  He nodded in agreement but didn’t rub it in or even reveal any anger over it.

  She could hardly process it all. “A few days ago I would have thought you were completely crazy.”

  “And now?”

  “This is all so…insane, but I believe you.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “It must be real because there is no other way you could have found me.”

  “I felt the same way before working for your father. I thought I was just really good at finding stuff, though I knew there was something odd about it. With Bone Finders, or my former boss, I had to downplay my preciseness and the speed in which I could locate. Once my boss asked, ‘What, you psychic or something?’ in such a derisive way, I knew I could never reveal just how I find things. I had this conception about psychics. You know, crystal balls and tea leaves, all that hokey stuff. What I did was different. It blew my mind when Darkwell told me my ability is a psychic skill.”

  Nicholas jerked his head to look behind him.

  “What? Is someone following us?”

  “I thought I saw something…never mind.” He settled his hand on the bottom of the steering wheel. “Yes, Eric attacked Jerryl—”

  “While he was making love with his girlfriend!”

  “It was unprovoked in that moment, but he had to take him out when he was vulnerable. Eric and Jerryl had a p
ersonal vendetta.”

  “I heard Jerryl talking about that. He was after Eric, hated him. And he tried to kill Eric’s sister. But Eric doesn’t sound like a good guy, either.”

  He let out a breath. “I have a hard time with him, too. I’m a black-and-white kind of guy. Either you’re good or bad. The Rogues…I’m sorry, Livvie, but they’re the better side. Your father is hunting them down because they’re a threat to his program. He’s crossed the line, now and twenty-five years ago, and he’ll do anything to keep his program secret. He had our parents killed, the ones in the first program. He had me finding the women so an assassin could take them out. These women aren’t cold-hearted terrorists. They heal, they love, they’re scared, and they’re angry.”

  She couldn’t believe her father would kill innocent people. There was more to it, maybe a misunderstanding. Now Nicholas was taking her to the enemy’s den.

  She shivered. “Where are we?”

  “Annapolis.”

  “Is it really safe there? Sayre can’t get in?”

  “Jerryl got in once, when he tried to get Petra to kill herself, but he had a psychic connection with her. I don’t think Sayre will be able to get to you.”

  “I hope not.” The words came out so soft and high-pitched, the fear so audible, Nicholas gave her thigh a squeeze of comfort.

  A few minutes later, he said, “I’m going to have to ask you to look down, Livvie.”

  She lay down, her head on his thigh, and closed her eyes. Dread tightened her chest. She could hear the tires crunch on gravel, then the sound of a garage door open and close.

  “Stay there for a second. I’ve got to find something to use as a blindfold.”

  His regret at doing so was clear. She sat up in the seat but remained in a bowed position, remembering when he had donned a blindfold and jumped from the balcony. Now she knew he’d been using his psychic ability to find that ball.

  He opened her door a minute later. “I found a clean rag in the tool chest.”

  Flashbacks of when Sayre had tied the bonds around her shot panic into her stomach. But this was Nicholas. He wouldn’t hurt her.