The Cure

by JG Faherty

  In reality, he’d been locked in his office, working out the details of a new business venture.

  Finally finding his voice, Tal asked, “If you think she found me too intimidating, why send me again?”

  As soon as the words left his lips, Tal regretted them. What if Marsh agreed and decided to send someone else? Someone who’d end up reporting DeGarmo missing?

  “Because I want you to apologize on behalf of both of us,” Marsh said.

  Tal wanted to sigh with relief, but he kept his control. “If you think that’s for the best, then I’ll make sure I come across…in a friendlier fashion.”

  Marsh rolled his eyes. “You couldn’t come across friendly if you tried. I just want her to hear you apologize. She’ll understand how hard it is for you to do that. Then give her this.” Marsh handed Tal an envelope with DeGarmo’s name written on it. “That’s my apology, plus my request for her to consider a new arrangement.”

  Pocketing the envelope, Tal stood up. “I’ll take care of it tonight.” Marsh nodded, and Tal hurried back to his office, eager to escape before his true feelings showed themselves.

  Back at his own desk, Tal stared at the envelope and pondered Marsh’s odd behavior. Although he’d have never believed the old man capable of such a thing, Tal knew that sometimes people underwent major personality changes following life-threatening or life-changing events. Hardened criminals found God. Millionaires donated their savings to charities. But even if Marsh was going soft, would it happen overnight? It didn’t seem likely.

  That left two possibilities. One, Marsh was baiting Tal for some reason, setting him up for something. It was possible he’d discovered Tal’s dealings with DeGarmo and this was his way of slipping the noose over Tal’s head. As much as Tal prayed nothing like that had happened, he almost wanted it to be true, because the only other option was so chilling he got a creepy feeling up his spine just thinking about it.

  That DeGarmo had done more than just cure Marsh’s cancer when she touched him.

  She’d infected him with some of her own goodness.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “She’s back in her cell.”

  Del McCormick glanced both ways, making sure no one was near the park bench he occupied, before speaking into his phone.

  “How did they do it?” he asked his informant.

  “They poisoned the cop. She cured him. The most fucked-up thing I ever saw. She tried to go after Nova, but he was too fast for her.”

  Pity, thought Del. That would have made things a lot easier. “Where’s Nova now?”

  “Either in his office or home. He already called to say give her dinner and something to make her sleep, but not too much. Says he wants her to be alert in the morning.”

  “That means he’s got another hit planned. Jesus, he’s working fast.”

  “Maybe he wants to off as many people as he can before Marsh finds out.”

  “Maybe.” The reasons didn’t matter to Del. What did matter was that if Tal had a busy schedule set up, tonight might be the best time to swipe the girl. “Listen up. The operation is a go. Tonight. Three a.m. No more drugs for her, understand? I want her walking on her own, not holding us back.”

  “Gotcha. We’ll be ready.”

  Del shut his phone without replying. He knew the team would be ready. If they weren’t…well, Tal Nova wasn’t the only one who had a ruthless streak.

  Leaning back against the bench, Del closed his eyes and ran through the plan again in his head, imagining every possible scenario and developing a counterstrategy. You couldn’t be too prepared.

  Not when millions of dollars were on the line.

  The cell phone’s strident ring jarred Tal Nova from a dreamless sleep. Instantly awake, he snatched the phone from his nightstand. “Nova.”

  “Boss, we just got word that Mason took an earlier flight. He’s landing at LaGuardia in five hours.”

  Tal glanced at his clock and held back a curse. Two a.m. Elmore Mason was the next target on his list. The plan had been for DeGarmo to intercept him at the airport the following afternoon, as he disembarked his plane. Now that schedule was shot to hell. They had to act fast.

  “All right. Give the cop his injection. I’ll be right in. When I get there, we’ll take DeGarmo to him for the cure.”

  “What if she’s still loopy from the sedatives?”

  “Pump her full of coffee. Give her a hit of speed. I don’t care what you have to do, but I want her awake and walking and full of death when that plane lands, understand?”

  “Yes, s—”

  Tal shut his phone and headed for the bathroom, already calculating the adjustments the team would need to make in order to bring DeGarmo into contact with the target. The original plan had been based on the event taking place in a crowded airport. But at seven in the morning, the terminal would be a ghost town, occupied only by die-hard business travelers. That meant a different mode of dress for DeGarmo so she’d blend in.

  Before he’d even finished relieving himself, Tal was on the phone again, giving terse instructions to his team.

  Fifteen minutes later, he was in his car and heading into the city.

  The bang of the door opening startled Leah from a nightmare-filled sleep.

  “What…? What do you want?” she asked the two guards.

  “Let’s go,” one of them said, grabbing her by the arm. He pushed an armful of clothes at her. “Put these on.”

  Neither of them gave any indication they would let her dress in private, and their gruff attitudes told Leah she shouldn’t ask. Instead, she turned around and quickly slipped into clothes that obviously weren’t hers. The slacks and blouse were a size too large, and the plain black heels pinched her feet, but she kept her complaints to herself.

  The moment she was dressed, the men escorted her out of the room and down the hall. She stumbled a bit in the unfamiliar shoes, and the second guard handed her a large container of coffee. “Drink this.”

  “Why?” The coffee teased Leah’s mouth and nose, and made her stomach grumble. But she was afraid of what else might be in the cup.

  “Boss wants you wide awake. So either you drink it or I pour it down your throat. Your choice.”

  Leah did as she was told, wondering how she could enjoy the beverage so much while being marched toward what was undoubtedly another deadly assignment for Tal Nova. The moment she thought about that, a new fear bloomed in her gut.

  That means they’ve probably done something to John again.

  Sure enough, they rounded a corner and entered a hallway Leah recognized as the one John was being kept in. Her worry grew worse as they approached the guarded door, and then changed to full-blown terror when she looked through the window and saw the sickly green aura surrounding his body.

  They’ve poisoned him again. Sons of bitches. How many times can they keep doing this to us?

  She knew the answer, of course. Nova would continue to use them until he didn’t need them anymore. Then they’d end up dead someplace, just two more unsolved murders in a city full of them.

  “Tal called,” one of John’s guards said. “He’s on his way. We’re supposed to keep the girl out here until he gets here.”

  “Sorry. We’ve got other plans.” Before Leah knew what was happening, one of the men who’d taken her from her cell pulled out a gun and fired two shots. Blood splattered the walls as John’s two guards fell to the floor.

  “Let’s get the hell out of here.” The men grabbed Leah and pulled her away from John’s cell.

  “Wait!” She tried to break free but they held her tight. “He needs my help! He’s dying.” She saw John pressed against the glass, pounding on it with both fists.

  “Too bad. Our orders are to get you out of here, nobody else.”

  Leah kicked and screamed as the men dragged her to the end of the
hall and out a small side door that opened onto what had once been the loading dock. Three more men waited next to an unmarked gray van, their faces cloaked by the night. It was only when she got close that Leah recognized one of them, an average-sized man with mousy-brown hair.

  “You were the one at my clinic that night. With the dog. You work for Tal Nova.”

  “Not exactly,” the man said. “I do jobs for him on occasion; but I work for myself. You might say I’m an independent contractor.”

  “You have to let me go back inside, there’s someone dying in there. I can help him.”

  The man shook his head. “Believe me, Doctor, I know exactly what you can do. That’s why I’m here. You’re going to make me a very rich man.” He motioned for his men to open the back doors of the van.

  Leah muttered a curse as she fought to break free. Did everyone know about her abilities? “If you don’t let me go back, I won’t help you.”

  The man held up his hand and everyone stopped moving. “What do you mean?”

  “You said you know what I can do. Well, you can’t make me do it. I control it.”

  The man shrugged. “Then maybe a bullet or two in the right places will convince you.”

  “And what if it doesn’t? You’ll kill me? I’m no good to you if I’m injured or dead.”

  For the first time, the man’s face showed emotion. His lips grew tight and his eyes narrowed. He stared at Leah for a moment, and then swore. “Goddammit. You did a hit for Nova.”

  Leah stared back at him. “That’s right. Because he injected the man I love with poison. The same man who’s going to die soon if I don’t get back in there. Without John, I wouldn’t have done shit for Nova.” She knew she was putting John in danger again, basically moving from one frying pan to another, but at least he’d be alive.

  “Damn it to hell.” The man signaled his people to move back to the loading dock doors. “Let’s go. This isn’t finished yet.”

  “Del, we don’t need him. We can find someone else—”

  “Quiet.” The man named Del pointed at the stocky thug who held Leah. “Keep her here. Don’t come in until you get the all clear.”

  The man nodded and tightened his grip on Leah’s arm as the rest of the group headed inside.

  Thirty seconds later, the angry sound of gunfire reached them.

  “What’s going on?” Leah asked, her head filling with visions of the mousy-haired man shooting John.

  “Shut up.” Her guard maintained his grip, but with his other hand he pulled out a gun and aimed it at the loading-dock doors.

  “We have to go in!” Panic rose in Leah’s chest.

  “I said shut up!” The man gave her a shake, just as Leah tried again to pull free. This time it worked, and she found herself stumbling away. Before the man could do anything, she found her balance and ran for the door.

  “Hey! Stop!”

  Leah cringed, anticipating a bullet in the back, but didn’t stop running. Instead of the explosion of the gun going off, she heard pounding footsteps behind her. She threw open the door and burst into the hallway, just in time to see one of the stranger’s men turn in her direction, gun in hand. There was no time to stop or yell; she could only watch helplessly as bright light flared from the front of the gun and a deafening roar filled the air. A split second later, something hot stung her cheek, followed by a buzzing sound in her ear.

  “Don’t shoot!” the man behind her shouted.

  After that, everything seemed to slow down to quarter speed. Images clicked through her head like a slide show.

  Someone running past her.

  Raising her hand to her cheek.

  Staring at her blood-covered palm.

  People on the floor.

  A white tile smeared in red.

  The last picture faded to black, and Leah wondered who’d turned off the projector. Turn on the lights, she tried to say, but her mouth refused to move. Something cold hit her face, feeling good against her skin. How did I get sunburned on one cheek? Who’s holding the wet cloth for me?

  Far away, someone called for help. Something about a man being shot.

  I can help him, she thought. That’s my job. I Cure the sick with a touch. My name is Jesus.

  Wait. That doesn’t sound right.

  My name is Leah. I’m here to help someone. Someone named…

  “John!” Leah opened her eyes, saw she was lying on the floor next to a dead body.

  With a gasp, she pushed herself away and sat up. The memory of being shot came back to her, and she raised a hand to her cheek. No pain now, just smooth, undamaged skin.

  No time to worry about that. Have to help John.

  She got to her feet, but someone grabbed her leg. Looking down, she saw the mousy-haired man who’d tried to kidnap her.

  “Help me,” he said, his words coming out in a hoarse gasp. The reason for his pain was obvious; blood poured from a bullet wound in his leg. Based on the flow, Leah figured the bullet had nicked his femoral artery, possibly cut it in two.

  “Please. I…” His eyes closed and his head fell back.

  Damn! All she wanted to do was save John. But she couldn’t let a man bleed to death. Telling herself she was a fool, Leah knelt down and placed her hands over the wound. An electric shock ran through her, and the man’s body twitched as if from an epileptic seizure.

  The moment the pain passed, Leah pushed herself to her feet and ran for John’s door. When she got to it, a sick feeling ran through her. Although he was still standing at the window, watching everything, his face was drawn and pale, and a heavy sheen of sweat covered his skin. Worse, a heavy bilious green glow covered him, a glow she knew no one else could see.

  The poison’s kicking in. Not much time left. “Hang on!” she shouted.

  She grabbed the knob but it wouldn’t move. Her fear kicked up another notch. It wasn’t fair! She was there to save him, but couldn’t get in.

  John banged on the glass and pointed past her.

  Leah turned and looked. All she saw were dead bodies and a couple of the stranger’s men helping him to his feet. Then it hit her.

  One of the dead guards had to have the keys.

  Leah dropped to the floor and tore through the dead guards’ pockets until she located the keys. It took her three tries to find the right key, and even then her hands shook so bad she had trouble inserting the key and turning it. As soon as she unlocked the door, John pushed it open and stumbled out. He went to put his arms around her, and instead ended up clutching at her shoulders as his legs gave out underneath him.

  Staggering under his weight, Leah did her best to lower him to the floor without dropping him. He tried to speak, but she put a finger to his lips. “Quiet. You’ll be better in a minute.”

  She focused on John’s pallid face, thinking only of Curing him. The moment she put her hands on his cheeks, the pain of the Cure hit her like a heavy fist to the stomach. She cried out and nearly fell over. At the same time, John’s body convulsed so hard his shoulders and head left the floor and then crashed down again. Nausea filled Leah’s body, and she barely managed to turn her head before her coffee came up in violent fashion. Before she could regain her breath, a second round of vomit exploded out.

  After her spasms subsided, she found the nausea had faded to a manageable level. She wiped her mouth on her sleeve and turned back to John, just in time to find him pushing himself to a sitting position.

  “Thank God you’re all right!” She wanted to throw her arms around him, cradle her head against his chest, but she knew better than to touch him.

  It never occurred to her that she’d already touched him after Curing the gunman, and nothing had happened.

  “No, thank you. Again.” His voice sounded weak, but the green glow had disappeared and color was already returning to his face. “What about you? A
re you okay?”

  “I’ll be fine. I’m just a little shaky.” She stood up. “We should get out of here before Tal’s men come back.”

  “Sorry, you folks aren’t going anywhere.”

  Leah turned, saw the mousy-haired man and one of his men standing nearby, both with guns in their hands. She silently kicked herself; in her frantic hurry to cure John, she’d forgotten about the men who’d tried to kidnap her.

  The mousy-haired man’s companion stepped forward and took Leah by the arm. “Let’s go, little lady.”

  Before she realized what was happening, the Power surged up inside her, begging for release. Leah grabbed the man’s hand and let the sickness flow out of her. This time the electric shock of the transfer was even worse, wrenching a scream of pain from her that the armed man echoed as they both fell to the floor.

  “What the…?” For a moment, the mousy-haired man just stood there, his eyes wide, as blood exploded from his partner’s leg and vomit spewed from his mouth. But the man’s surprise didn’t last long. He brought his gun up and around, his expression already changing from shock to anger.

  And found John kneeling on the floor, pointing a gun back at him.

  “Drop it,” John said, his voice no longer weak.

  The man’s hand twitched ever so slightly, just enough to point the gun at Leah, who was still trying to sit up. “I’ll kill her.”

  Instead of answering, John pulled the trigger. The sound of the gun drowned out the man’s cry, but Leah saw the effects as the man dropped his gun and clutched his arm.

  “Next time it’ll be in the chest.” John’s hand stayed perfectly still as he spoke. “You’ve got five seconds to get the hell out of here and never come near us again. One…two…”

  Before John reached three, the mousy-haired man turned and ran for the loading-dock door. The moment the door closed, John pulled Leah to her feet. “Let’s get out of here before anyone else shows up.”