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Dragon Moon

Page 15

by Unknown


  When she finished, she wiped her mouth with the cloth.

  “Come with me,” the guard said.

  With no other option, she stood and followed her escort out of the room. She thought she was going back to Vandar’s private residence.

  Instead, they walked into another part of the cave. As she stepped through a doorway, she gasped, feeling a wave of sadness and wonder. She was standing in Talon’s kitchen.

  “How?” she whispered as she hurried toward the counter. As she approached the stove, she realized that it wasn’t real. It looked like the appliance she remembered, but on closer inspection, it seemed to be a wooden box with painted controls and burners.

  There was a drawer next to the stove, and she pulled it open to find knives, forks, and spoons. When she picked them up, they felt real.

  In the cabinet underneath were pots and pans but not exactly like Talon’s. Above the counter were plates, cups, and bowls, similar to his.

  Moving to her right, she came to the sink. When she turned the faucet, no water came out. The refrigerator was similar. Although the door did open, the interior was not cold. And the “food” on the shelves was only a representation of the expected packages.

  Taking out a loaf of bread, Kenna held it up to the light and saw that it was made of some kind of composite that she guessed wasn’t even edible. She had just put it back when she heard a noise behind her. She whirled around.

  Vandar was standing in the doorway, dressed like a man from the other universe: he wore jeans, a button-down shirt, and running shoes. Although she wanted to cringe and turn away, she straightened her shoulders.

  He tipped his head to the side, studying her. “You’re looking well.”

  “Thank you.”

  “What is this place?” he asked.

  “The kitchen in Talon Marshall’s lodge.” She pressed her hands to her sides, then said, “If you don’t know what it is, how did you build it?”

  “From your memories. I know it’s his kitchen. I want you to tell me about it.”

  She dragged in a breath as she remembered the terrible sucking sensation before she’d blacked out. He had dragged this picture from out of her. Not just a picture. It was more like . . . She thought for a moment and came up with the words: “stage set.” And workmen must have scrambled feverishly to construct it.

  Before she could think more about it, he went back to asking questions.

  “What is a lodge?”

  She struggled to put the word into context. “It’s like a house, but bigger. He has a lot of spare bedrooms because he has guests,” she answered, thinking that he had gone off on an expedition without the guests assembling at his headquarters.

  Had her presence altered his behavior?

  Before she could ponder any more about Talon, Vandar made another demand. “Tell me the functions of the furnishings of this room.”

  She looking around. “Everything?”

  “Yes.”

  As she thought about the daunting task, he crossed to the sink and pulled the lever up, then pointed to the spigot. “Water comes out of here?”

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  “There are pipes under the sink. They bring the water. I don’t know where it comes from.”

  “I suppose not. Long ago there was something like that in this universe. In the houses of the rich.”

  “There was?”

  “Yes. And toilets that flushed. Like the ones at Talon Marshall’s house.”

  She nodded, wanting to ask about the past of her own world but knowing that Vandar wasn’t here to give her information. Instead, she went around the kitchen showing him the various appliances and smaller things like the packages of food and cans of soup.

  She fumbled to explain the microwave. And the dishwasher.

  Finally, Vandar waved a hand to cut her off. “I wanted to see the kitchen for myself. As I thought, the other universe is a better place to live. Much more comfortable, with all sorts of conveniences like running water, central heat, and air-conditioning.”

  He continued, sounding like he was speaking to himself, not her. “And the population will be completely unprepared for anyone like me.”

  She couldn’t stop herself from asking, “How do you know?”

  “It’s obvious the other universe developed differently. With machinery instead of people with paranormal powers.”

  Kenna nodded. There were a few psychics in Talon’s world. Occasionally, she’d seen TV shows about them, but they seemed to have no revered place in the society. They might try to help the police find a missing child or solve a murder, but they were as likely to be wrong as right.

  As she thought about that, Vandar turned to her. “You’ll be going back there.”

  She went very still, suddenly filled with hope and at the same time with despair. “I thought . . .”

  He waved her to silence. “I’ll want some more artifacts from you. Not random objects. Things that will be useful for the invasion. I have my powers, but it will be better if my men are armed. With some of those guns.”

  She swallowed. “Guns?”

  “You saw them on television programs. Talon Marshall has a lot of magazines that feature them. And someone shot at him one night.”

  “How . . . how . . . would I get guns?” she asked, hearing the quaver in her own voice.

  “You’ll figure it out. I want fifty of them. The small ones. Handguns, they’re called. And the bullets.”

  “Fifty.”

  “You’ll get Talon Marshall to buy them for you.”

  She was about to tell him that wasn’t possible, when the coldly calculating look on his face stopped her.

  “You fucked him.”

  Kenna felt her cheeks heat as she lowered her gaze. That certainly wasn’t how she’d put it. But Vandar must have pulled that from her mind, too. Did she have no privacy from this monster?

  He was speaking, his voice a buzzing in her head. “Fucking with a man is a good way to control him. If he questions you about where you have been, take him back to your bed.”

  She wanted to refuse, but there was no way to defy Vandar’s wishes. Not if she wanted to survive.

  He laughed, obviously enjoying her discomfort. “You called his member his ‘rod.’ Probably, he calls it his ‘cock’ or his ‘dick.’ When it gets hard, that’s called a hard-on. Use the right words.”

  He had stopped speaking, yet she felt information pouring into her head—the reverse of what he had done before. He was giving her more orders. Orders that would destroy her relationship with Talon—if she still had a relationship with him.

  Yet she must obey.

  TALON and his group finished stowing the canoes on the top of the van in the Cooksburg parking lot.

  “Fantastic trip,” Trent Dalton said. “You know the river like the back of your hand, and you know a lot about the wildlife in the area.”

  The others voiced their agreement.

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

  “When’s the next time you’re running this trip?”

  “Probably in the fall.”

  “I’ll definitely be coming back—with my son,” Jake Presley said.

  “That’s a good idea,” James Fitzgerald said. “Maybe Billy and I can do it with you all.”

  He and Dalton began discussing times they might get together with their sons.

  The group of men had bonded on the expedition, and Talon had promised to provide them all with an e-mail list so they could keep in touch. He knew they were savoring the last few minutes together, but his own anxiety was reaching critical levels. He had to get home.

  To make sure Kenna was still there—and make sure that everything was okay. Because he couldn’t fight the bad feeling that something had gone terribly wrong.

  Struggling not to transmit his anxiety, he cleared his throat. “We’d better get back to Ridgway.” That was the town where the men had left their cars. Too bad they weren’t parked at his hous
e because then he wouldn’t be facing a three-hour drive.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  THAT AFTERNOON, AFTER answering more questions about things like television programs, Kenna stepped through the portal, this time with a mixture of eagerness and sadness. She wanted to come back to Talon’s world. She longed to repair the breach between them. But she was under orders from her master, and there was no way to stop herself from following them.

  Although she had been anxious about her last trip here, this time would be far worse. This time she was supposed to get Talon to buy her guns, although she was sure he wasn’t going to do it. Vandar had a long history of people following his commands, but he didn’t know what he was dealing with now. Talon was a man who took orders from no one.

  She shuddered. Unless Vandar got control of his mind. Gods! She couldn’t let that happen. Not to Talon. She had to figure out a way to stop it.

  As she started down the hill toward the lodge, she wondered what she would find there. Talon had been about to leave on a trip. Was he back home, or was he still away? And what would she say to him when they saw each other again?

  She fretted about that as she walked toward the lodge, her pace slowing as she approached.

  Just as she was about to step out from under the trees, something brushed against her—something powerful—and she gasped. Jumping behind a tree, she pressed tightly against the bark and peered into the woods, probing the shadows with her gaze, half expecting to see Vandar come swooping down out of the sky.

  She saw nothing.

  Closing her eyes, she went very still, trying to calm herself and figure out what had happened. Something had reached out toward her, but it was far away.

  Vandar? She didn’t think he could actually reach through the portal so directly. Unless the deeper contact with her mind had made it possible.

  Goose bumps rose on her flesh, and she went very still, listening. But she heard nothing with her ears. It was like the presence had been waiting for her and found her almost as soon as she’d stepped through the portal.

  As suddenly as it had touched her, it was gone, leaving her standing with her pulse pounding.

  Had she imagined it, because she was so off-kilter? Or was it something real?

  She looked back over her shoulder, toward the portal which was now hidden by the trees. Going back to her world wasn’t an option. So she dragged in a breath and let it out before starting down the hill again.

  When she peered into the open space around the lodge, she thought she saw a male figure standing in front of the building, and a surge of joy went through her.

  Talon!

  Unable to contain her feelings, she ran forward, drinking in the details. He wore the kind of clothing Talon favored: running shoes, jeans, and a T-shirt. And his hair was dark like Talon’s. But as she drew closer, she saw that it was longer and greasier. And his body was shorter and chunkier.

  It wasn’t him.

  Should she stop before he saw her?

  But it was already too late for that. He’d heard her coming and jerked around to confront her.

  As they faced each other, she saw that the look in his blue eyes was wary.

  “Who are you?” he demanded.

  Wondering what kind of response he expected, she answered, “A friend of Talon’s.”

  “Oh yeah? Where did you come from?”

  “The woods.”

  “You’re just dropping in on him?”

  She nodded, thinking this was a very strange conversation, and not just on her part. Studying him, she asked, “Who are you?”

  “A friend of Talon’s,” he answered. But the way he said it sent a shiver down her spine.

  “What’s your name?” she asked.

  “You don’t need to know.”

  A large rounded can with a spout sat a few yards away on the ground. When she looked at it, she recognized the kind of can that Talon used to fill his chain saw and other equipment. With . . . gasoline. He had told her it was dangerous, that it could catch on fire. And she was supposed to stay away from it.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, keeping her voice even when her heart had started to pound.

  “Nothing you need to worry about. Talon’s not home. This isn’t a good time to visit.”

  “He’ll be home soon.”

  “Oh yeah?” As he spoke, he lunged toward her, but she reacted instantly, using her mind to put up a stumbling block near his feet. He tripped, sprawling on the ground. “What the hell?”

  Her breath came fast and hard as she stared at him. She hadn’t intended to use her power so openly, but when he’d attacked, she simply reacted.

  “Stay away from me,” she whispered, hoping he wouldn’t realize she had tripped him. She’d had no real plan when she’d stopped him, but now she was thinking that she would run back into the woods and hide—with the gas can that was still on the ground.

  Snatching up the can, she turned and sprinted toward the trees. But before she had gotten more than a few feet, something hit her square in the back, and she went down, knocking the breath from her lungs.

  Seconds later, the man was on top of her, grabbing her by the hair and slamming her head against the ground.

  She saw bright splotches in front of her eyes. Then everything went dark.

  KENNA’S eyes blinked open. For a long moment, she struggled to figure out where she was. She was lying on her side, on a bed. Facing a wall.

  She closed her eyes, letting herself drift. Her head hurt. And . . . and, when she tried to push herself up, she realized that her hands were tied behind her back. Looking down, she saw that her legs were also tied at the ankles with thick cord.

  Gods! Had Vandar brought her back to her world to sacrifice her?

  Her heart started to pound as she stared at the wall. It was smoother than any wall in the cave.

  “Calm down,” she muttered to herself. “It’s not the cave. It’s not that.”

  Swiveling around, she saw a chest of drawers that she recognized.

  She was inside Talon’s lodge. But she didn’t remember coming inside. How had she gotten in here?

  Teeth gritted, she struggled to dredge up her most recent memories. Vandar had sent her back. She’d come down the hill from the portal and found a man at Talon’s house. A man with a gas can.

  They’d talked. Then . . .

  The last part was fuzzy, but she knew he’d lunged at her, and she’d tripped him before turning and running toward the woods.

  But she’d never gotten there. Moving her shoulders, she felt a renewal of the pain. She hadn’t been facing him, but she was pretty sure he’d hit her with something hard.

  Lying on her back hurt her arms, and she eased to her side again. But she knew she couldn’t stay in the bed. The man was here to do something bad. She was sure of that, and she was the only one who could stop him. Except that she was tied up, and he was probably the one who had done it.

  Closing her eyes, she focused on her wrists. They were held together with some kind of restraint, but she couldn’t see what it was. And she didn’t think it was the same stuff as the rope that bound her ankles.

  Could she manipulate the wrist cords without seeing them?

  She’d never done anything like that before. How could you move something when you had no idea what it looked like?

  She didn’t know, but she had to try.

  Moving her arms, she felt the way the restraints rested against her skin. There wasn’t much play in the stuff, which made it hard to figure out what she needed to do.

  Her mind spun as she lay with her fists clenched. Then she swung back to the chest. A mirror hung above it. If she could get to it, maybe she could see her wrists.

  By wiggling her body, she inched to the edge of the bed, careful not to dump herself onto the floor. Sitting up, she swung her legs over the side, then eased her feet onto the floor.

  Now came the hard part. Carefully, she stood up, fighting a wave of pain as she changed t
he angle of her head.

  Thrown off balance, she flopped back onto the mattress and sat breathing heavily. She longed to lie down again, but she didn’t have that luxury. More carefully this time, she stood. When she felt steady on her feet, she took short, hopping steps to the dresser, where she braced her hips against the front. Then she slowly turned so that her hands were facing the mirror.

 

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