by Regan Black
"Hanging suits me fine."
The sooner the better. I already know my fate and my failure. And I don't want to be so far behind this infernal race next time.
Chicago: 2096
By sheer will, Jaden continued to put one foot in front of the next. Her hip ached and was seeping blood again. If she ever saw Brian again, he'd be ticked she messed up his fine work.
If she ever saw Brian again.
The sound of that rib-cracking blow echoed in her ears. She'd left him to deal with the beating on his own. It was the only choice, she reminded herself. The women had no one else. Brian was a big boy. Capable. Inventive.
To keep her sanity, she tried reaching Cleveland again. Finally he answered.
She explained her location. "Can you pick me up?"
"Sure. Hang tight."
As if there were options. She used the time to link up with trustworthy security contacts in Michigan and Illinois to assist the escapees and the engineer's family. The to-do list complete, she tried to empty herself of the sensory overload.
"Someone call a cab?" Cleveland asked upon arrival. He brought her to her feet and opened the door for her.
She looked up into his face, kissed him full on the mouth and then slid into the passenger seat. Cars were still cars, but this was a treasure. "How'd you rate a 1957 Chevy?"
He smirked. "I like the classics."
"Must've cost a fortune to replace the old gas engine."
"Worth it. You know about cars. About history," he added cryptically.
"And you know a lot about the street," she dodged. "What can you tell me about disappearing girls? Under twelve."
"Chicago streets are riddled with underfed, disadvantaged folks of all ages who go missing all the time."
"Cleve," she pleaded, "everyone trusts you. Talks to you. Help me out."
He slowed to accommodate the heavier traffic funneling into the toll lanes as they neared the city.
"I wouldn't hold out like that from you."
"You've never mentioned your home. Or this cool ride."
"They call it bitter for a reason, girl," he teased. "About disappearing kids...there's not much to be heard." He paused while the machine scanned the tag on his window. "What've you been told?"
"There's a standing weekly order for girls under twelve. A guy dubbed 'the accountant' runs supply and demand numbers. All outgoing shipments originate in Chicago."
He moved through the barricade and resumed cruising speed. "That's myth-quality bullshit. No one could keep that quiet."
"Girls are snagged from all over."
He shook his head. "Still. They have to come in. Someone would notice."
"The Judge could pull it off."
"Y'know, I've always been a history buff. A sucker for a good legend. When my sister died–when I was branded, those events made me curious."
She wondered if Brian had been right and Cleveland was repeating life till he got it right. She wondered when she'd get it right.
"My curiosity got me into trouble. My wits got me out. Out of trouble I had more time to research the things that satisfy my curiosity."
"And," she demanded, impatient and tired.
"I searched the infinity symbol."
As had she.
"I found an interesting correlation in several not so recent crimes."
As had she.
"It seemed like Albertson was copycatting older criminals. Then I met you and things you said, reactions you had made me–"
"Curious," she finished for him. "And you researched me too. Found correlations that shouldn't be there."
"Nope. I just rifled your place a couple times." He winked. "I only lifted the one picture. You should keep better track of your secrets, girlfriend."
Jaden shifted in the seat, needing to see his reaction. "You believe in reincarnation?"
"In a few select instances. I don't know how or why, but I believe you are different. Your police chief too."
"You might mention that to him next time you meet." Why deny it? She was too tired to fabricate any sort of believable disclaimer anyway. "Why did you suggest a partner?"
"Everyone can use help. Even you."
She studied her hands, feeling mulish. "Brian makes me feel stronger." It even sounded stupid to her ears.
"See?" He smiled gently. "You're used to being the urban legend. The tough broad no one gets close to." A block from his home, he turned into a dilapidated parking garage. "If a person knows how to unravel it and weave the ends together. There's been three entangled in this battle for a long time."
"I know that," she snapped.
He continued blandly. "The third wasn't me." He posed a pout. Then winked. "I wanted you to keep an eye out."
"So you must know what I've been doing wrong. What I can't find."
"Best I can tell, seeing how I've only lived once, is you're bitter."
The Judge had said as much. But bitterness kept her sharp, kept her focused and enabled her to kill when needed without hesitation. And the judge would never give her anything helpful.
"I don't think full victory rests in your weapon searches. I think the key's in you. What's the only thing you've never done?"
"How should I know? I have memories, but can anyone truly have full recall?"
"Bitter," he pointed out.
"Annoyed," she corrected. Exhaustion threatened and she gladly climbed out of the car. If she could sleep, she'd be out for hours. But it wouldn't be restful. It would be hours plagued by the nightmares of little girls headed to doomed lives, or worse. Little girls in need of saving. "I don't need riddles, I need answers. I have to find them Cleveland. And then I have to stop him."
"You will. After you're rested it'll be easier."
"If I could get a location, make an ID, they'll have to put him away."
"Will those other women come forward?"
"They'll speak with one of my connections and he'll hold the record until needed."
"Larry's funeral is today," Cleveland said as they entered his apartment. "Graveside service at sunset in the Southside Cemetery."
Jaden shifted her aching body. Laid her fingers over the bruising imprint of the Amazon's hand on her neck.
"Thought I missed it," she replied, shifting again to stare out the window. "Where are the kids?"
"Game room. Quit dodging. We'll go together."
"With the kids? Dressed like this?"
"Clothes don't matter and a couple more hours alone won't faze Quinn and Katie, they're safe here."
"How's that working out?"
"I love it. I think they're happy. It's great to have someone to share all this."
Someone ought to be happy, she groused. She'd given up on the golden family at the end of her rainbow. Hell, she'd given up on rainbows. But she said, "They're good kids."
Cleveland combed through her hair with his fingers. "You've been through hell and back. We'll skip it."
"Drop the reverse psychology crap. We'll go."
"You'll be recognized unless we disguise you."
"No more disguises." Jaden made up her mind. "It's past time to commune with the living. A few of them should be there." She had a question or two about the legalities before she brought kidnapping charges against the judge for the women on the train. Maybe the threat would scare him enough to tell her where the young girls were stashed.
"Forget I brought it up. The cemetery will be crawling with cops. You'll get hauled in for violating the house arrest order."
"No house, no arrest?" she offered.
"Too lame."
"We'll just stay in the background. I'll just jog by–"
"Jogging in a cemetery?"
"Less traffic. More people should try it. Give me a ball cap and I'm set."
Cleveland grumbled, but he knew when not to argue with her. "Fine, but no fighting. You've been through enough today."
"Yes, Dad."
"Clean yourself up and we'll go."
Cleveland cal
led a cab service, in the interest of keeping a low profile and respecting her revulsion of the el. After a brief word with the kids, they met the cab and headed out.
"You okay?" Cleveland asked at the cemetery gate.
"No." She croaked and swallowed a sob. "But I'll manage."
"It's natural to miss him, but you didn't kill him."
"Didn't I? He was responding to an alarm I set."
"Oh, that's right. The man only did his job, only took real risks when you were involved."
Jaden felt a shaky smile curve her mouth. "I can always count on you for perspective." Her legs finally moved willingly, carrying her to the people milling around at the graveside.
Larry's will specified no viewing, no wake, no visitation. Music began soft and subtle, then grew into a livelier tune. The faces around her began to smile. It was perfect music for reminiscing about a man people thoroughly enjoyed.
Jaden stayed on the fringe, much as she'd lived so many of her lives. Closing her eyes, she tipped her head toward the one white puff of cloud in the wide sky. I miss you. I'll probably see you soon. Well, with her record, probably not.
"Well look at this. I've never seen so many bodies come back to life at a funeral."
Loomis.
Prepped for the worst, she had to try. "I wanted to talk with you."
"Get the hell outta here."
She blinked and stepped away, swallowing her own sharp grief. "I'm sorry for your loss."
He just kept bearing down on her. "Get out before I haul you in."
"For what, surviving a hit?"
A stirring in the crowd behind Loomis caught her eye. The scene put a tight cap on her horrendous day. Brian, in dress blues and all his glory as Chief of Police, came into view.
And stood at the right of the Judge.
She couldn't breathe. The betrayal suffocated her.
Loomis gripped her arm above the elbow and turned her away from Larry's mourners. He shoved her across the neat lawn as if he wanted to force her to stumble. She wouldn't let it happen.
"Ease up Loomis," she growled.
"As soon as you get what you deserve," he growled back.
At the street he gave her a rough push. "This is a private party, you'd best keep running."
Okay, the man had lost his mind. Grief could do that. Jaden didn't bother with further protest. Legal routes had never worked before, why think this time could be different. If she couldn't even get Brian's help when he was a cop, the answer to ending the vicious cycle of her lives wasn't in a law book.
That left weapons. And the best tangible resource was the museum. With a sigh, Jaden headed off. No one could keep her from a private memorial for Larry at the scene of the tragedy.
Brian knew the jogger had to be Jaden. The slight favor in her stride, the swinging braid, and the fury shimmering around her. There could be no doubt.
Except in her mind, if she'd seen him here.
He eased away from the Judge, knowing the man noted his every move as he carried on politely with the other mourners. Maneuvering randomly took a great deal of planning, Brian mused, patiently waiting to exchange sympathies with Loomis.
Brian suppressed a satisfied smile over the smooth transfer. Now that the tracking device was in place, he'd always know Jaden's whereabouts.
Assuming she didn't throw it away when she found it.
Jaden ran, letting go of her grief with each jarring footfall. Grief from each previous life. Grief for parents, for innocence. For her friend, Larry. For the only woman she'd ever killed. For her only sister, murdered by the same demonic entity that currently wore judge's robes.
She caught a cab to Lakeshore Park and ran until her lungs burned and her hip insisted she slow down. Easing into an achy walk, she blamed her watery eyes and runny nose on the lake wind buffeting her. For lack of anything better, she wiped her face with her sleeve.
And froze.
Then swore, loudly, into the device attached to her sleeve. Loomis wired her–but why?
She began stretching, or rather, pretending to stretch while taking inventory of the people around her. She'd run for miles, lost in her mournful and useless thought. The lakeside greenway was as meticulously designed as the cemetery, but with happier people. None of whom appeared to care about her.
She worked the dime-sized disk off her sleeve and walked until she found an empty bench in an equally deserted clearing. She couldn't go anywhere she wanted to until she'd disabled the device. Slumping into the seat, she wished for the jeweler's loupe in her tool kit. But that was tucked safely away in the suite in Micky's warehouse and she wouldn't go there until she knew who wanted her tracked and why.
Loomis had to be working on orders from higher up. But whose? Jaden found herself wishing for something, someone else she should've left in the suite: Brian.
With an eye out for the likely tail, she rolled the edges of the flat tracking button between her thumb and fingers, jumping when a tiny holographic recording filled her palm. She'd not seen an upgrade like this.
"Keep this close. I'm on your side," Brian said on the wispy recording.
He was in his formal uniform, officially resuming his previous life. The life he missed terribly. The life that put them on opposite sides of the justice versus vengeance issue.
She tried to be happy for him and just couldn't muster the energy.
She played the hologram again, listening for vocal clues. And again, to study his surroundings. But there was only the striking image of him speaking those few words.
She got to her feet and continued on to the museum, pocketing the tracking communicator.
I'm on your side.
She wanted to believe it. To believe he agreed with her than Albertson must die. But that would mean a leap of faith she's not sure she could make in his place. Brian and the Judge had history, good history. It was unreasonable to expect him to throw it aside easily. Unreasonable to expect that killing the judge wouldn't hurt the orphaned, doubtful Brian.
She didn't want Brian to hurt.
Dammit, she wasn't going soft. She'd bypassed soft and dissolved straight into a squishy puddle of emotions. With a final look at the hologram, she cocked her arm and pitched the tracking device into Lake Michigan.
Brian scowled at the dark van sitting across the street. He hadn't ordered the extra protection. And he didn't need the invasion of privacy at the moment. Which meant someone else with enough clout to waste the manpower had ordered this extra watch.
Albertson.
Over a dinner the Judge insisted upon, they'd discussed the good old days. The continued message of loyalty hadn't flown over Brian's head, he just didn't care. The good old days seemed stained after the nasty discovery at the mill.
He walked through his house, nursing a beer. It didn't feel like home anymore. Nothing was obviously disturbed, but Brian understood dinner had been a delay to allow Albertson's men time to search the place. He was sure they'd wired him for sound too.
He checked the receiving unit on his wrist that showed Jaden's location. She was either still in Lakeshore Park or she'd found and dumped the tracer. Had she found the hologram? He tried tapping into a sixth sense, to feel her.
Nothing.
He scoffed at his overactive imagination.
He ached that she'd been right about so much regarding the Judge. At the funeral, he found himself mourning the effective loss of a man he considered family. No more. It was like being orphaned again, only this time he counted it as a blessing. She'd been right about it all. The man was a monster.
A monster in league with a power hungry scientist. He'd like to kill them both for their destruction against humanity and the tragedies on the horizon. The vigilante attitude went against everything he thought he believed about right, wrong and justice. But he felt it to his soul anyway.
Brian needed to get back to Micky's place and see how much progress Lorine had made. If the lady doc could prove Kristoff's fraud, the sting would require precise t
iming. But he wouldn't risk leading the boys in the van into the safe haven the smuggler had created.
Draining the beer, Brian pressed a button to draw the privacy screen across his front windows. He heard the el whisper by and checked his receiver again. The transmitter still hadn't moved.
Well, it was way past time to find out why.
Jaden slipped into the museum and cooled her temper in the massive marble foyer. Her nerves frayed from the day, she took a moment to pull herself together before heading to the weapons gallery. The missing piece of this millennia-old puzzle had to be here. She'd find it and use it to destroy the evil still running free in this world.
She refused to indulge in any more tears. She'd failed. Past tense. It would be different this time. Entering her favorite gallery, she walked toward the scabbard and etched sword of a warrior from the 15th century. It was a narrow, lighter blade, but just as deadly as the heavier broadswords wielded by mail covered men.
Her hand reached toward the case, longing for another touch of the elegant steel. This had not been hers. Her sword had been broken in front of her face as a broadsword split her back for treason in battle.
Jaden closed her eyes and recalled the singing of steel through air, the perfect match of hilt to palm. It hadn't been treason, but justice, if anyone had bothered to inquire. Ah, well, a little late to dispute facts now.
"Reliving the glory days, dearheart?"
Jaden didn't acknowledge Albertson immediately, nor did she open her eyes. She savored the memory of disarming him and running him through.
"Ah, yes. You cheated if I recall," he continued. "Waiting until I was spent to turn on me."
She sighed and faced the Judge. "And still you laughed all the way into your next life."
"You can change the future, dearheart."
She scoffed, turning away to view a model sized suit of armor. She recognized the coat of arms, recalled the captain she'd admired for his compassion.
"I'd settle for salvaging the mess you've made of the present." She viewed a painting of a gauntlet and felt as overwhelmed as the young man facing the challenge. "Where are the children?" she demanded.