The Cure

by JG Faherty

  The thought of seeing John again, hearing his voice, feeling his touch, had her so keyed up she hardly noticed Del’s men gripping her arms with bruising force as they led her down the hall and into a different corridor, one that was even colder and fouler smelling than her own.

  The moment they opened the door, she rushed inside, exclaiming John’s name as he stood up.

  “Leah?” The look on his face changed from shock to relief and joy, all in the few seconds it took her to cross the room.

  The door slammed shut, locking them inside the murky room, but Leah didn’t care. All that mattered was John’s arms around her again, his chest pressed against hers, the wonderfully safe, sweaty smell of his body replacing the odor of death in her nose.

  How long they stood there, embracing in silence, she didn’t know, but eventually he stepped back.

  “Are you all right? Did they hurt you? Did they make you…?”

  She shook her head, wishing he didn’t look so gaunt. She doubted he’d slept at all, unless he’d been drugged like her, and she wondered if he’d been fed or had anything to drink.

  “I’m okay. They…they want to sell me to terrorists or the mob!” She hadn’t planned on telling him right away, but everything just came pouring out in a flood of words and tears. Del’s plans, the fact that she had her Power back and could apparently Cure herself.

  “The worst part is he said whoever buys me might not want you, that I might have to convince them to take you too.”

  “Hey, it’s okay.” John wrapped her in his arms again, pulled her close. When he spoke, she felt his words against her cheek. “We’ll figure something out. We’ve come this far, we’re not going to give up now.”

  Leah sniffed back tears and mucous. “Del said…he said they were going to kill us both if I couldn’t Cure anymore.”

  “If you couldn’t… Wait.” He pulled back from her. “Couldn’t cure anymore? What do you mean? Is that…is that why you left?”

  “No.” She shook her head, feeling more tears ready to come on, this time the burning tears of shame. She’d never thought she’d have to explain why she’d run away. “I left because I thought maybe if I was gone you’d be safe. After everything that happened to you, all because of me…I couldn’t bear the thought of you getting hurt again.”

  “I can understand you feeling like that, but, Jesus Christ, couldn’t you have talked to me first before taking off? I was worried sick. You should have known I’d go looking for you. If you’d stayed at the motel, we might not even be here now.”

  “I know!” Leah moved away, wishing there were something she could kick or punch, but the room was barren except for the single dusty light bulb overhead and a large blanket on the floor. “I was stupid and got us in more trouble.”

  “Hey, I’m sorry.” John put his hand out but she stepped away. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just… We work together better as a team than by ourselves. If we’re gonna get out of this alive, we have to stick together, not be selfish.”

  “Selfish?” She turned to face him. “Is that what you think I was being? I was trying to save you.”

  “That’s what you intended, but you were selfish because you weren’t thinking about what I wanted, or how your actions would affect me. You came up with an idea and just did it. That’s not how partners act.”

  “I’m not your partner.” Leah knew she sounded like a petulant teenager, but his “selfish” comment had struck a nerve.

  “That’s right, you’re not.” For the first time, a note of anger crept into John’s voice. “I thought you were more than that. Maybe I was wrong.”

  “You did? Think I was more than that?” Leah’s heart did a happy dance. Did he mean what she thought he meant?

  “Of course.” John reached for her, and this time she didn’t shy away. He took her hands in his, gripped them tight. “I know it’s only been a couple of weeks, but I’m crazy about you. I was really hoping that we could…that this would…you know,” he finished lamely.

  Unable to resist a little teasing, Leah shook her head. “No, I don’t,” she said. “What do you mean?” She tried to hold back a smile but couldn’t. Ever observant, John noticed it right away. He opened his mouth to respond, but she put her finger against his lips, stopping him.

  “I know exactly what you mean,” she whispered, pressing herself closer to him. “I feel the same way. And you were right; I was acting selfish and stupid. I’m sorry.”

  “Apology accepted,” he said, his lips moving against hers as they both leaned toward each other. The kiss went quickly from a gentle pressure to full-on lip-smashing, tongue-wrestling passion. When they finally separated, they were both out of breath.

  “Wow,” John said. “That was—”

  “Nothing compared to what’s coming.” Leah gave him a wink and started to unbutton her blouse.

  “Wait.” John looked around the room. “This isn’t very private. I’m sure they have cameras hidden somewhere.”

  “So let them watch.” She dropped her shirt and reached back to unsnap her bra, part of her amazed she was acting so boldly, part of her too fed up to give a damn. “This might be our last night together. I don’t intend to waste it.”

  Her bra joined her shirt on the floor, and from the look in John’s eyes, she knew he no longer cared about cameras either.

  Then she let her thoughts go blank and lost herself in the magic of John’s hands and mouth.

  And she made sure he couldn’t call her selfish.

  Chapter Six

  Tal Nova had just turned his computer off and grabbed his jacket when the intercom buzzed, eliciting a quick curse. He’d hoped to make a quick exit without talking to the old man.

  He picked up the phone.

  “Hello, Mr. Marsh.”

  “I just got information on where the DeGarmo woman is being held.”

  “If it’s a meat-packing plant in Elmira, I got the same news a few minutes ago and I’m getting ready to lead a team up there.” Another half-truth, but one the old man would be so happy to hear he wouldn’t bother checking the details.

  “Good. This is a top priority, Tal. I want her brought home unharmed and filled with gratitude for her rescue. Don’t let me down.”

  “I never have be—”

  The line went dead, cutting Tal off. He stared at the phone for a moment before setting it softly into its cradle. This was one of those assignments where Marsh would brook no failure.

  Tal smiled. He had no intention of failing.

  Although in a day or so, Marsh would be wishing he had.

  Leah nestled in the crook of John’s arm, doubly comforted by his warm strength and the gentle feel of his chest rising and falling against her back. The afterglow of their lovemaking had quickly faded in the chilly air of their cell, so they’d dressed and lain down on the blanket, ostensibly to share warmth but, for Leah at least, it was also a desperate desire to hang on to their intimacy for as long as they could. She had no idea when Del’s men would come for her, and if she’d ever see John again.

  Well, that’s not quite true, is it? she reminded herself. You’ll see him at least once more. When you have to Cure him.

  They’d talked for a while after snuggling up together, generalities and I-love-yous mostly, both of them avoiding any mention of impending death. She’d sensed John wanted to bring up the subject of escape, but each time he’d hinted in that direction—“I wonder where they have the cameras hidden… How many men have you seen in this place?”—she changed the topic, either by kissing him or mumbling sweet nothings against his neck, until he finally got the hint and stopped trying. Shortly after that, she’d rolled over and pulled his arms across her like a blanket, telling him she wanted to get some rest.

  Even if the threat of death or slavery hadn’t been hanging over her head, Leah doubted she’d have been able t
o fall asleep. The frigid cement was an inanimate vampire, sucking the warmth from her body, even with the rough blanket folded double beneath them. And despite her long exposure to it, the stench in the air still hit her at odd moments, proving you could never really get used to such an awful smell. Not to mention that lying on the floor with an arm as your only pillow was not exactly comfortable.

  An involuntary shiver ran through her, and John’s arms tightened in response.

  “You awake?” he whispered, his breath rustling her hair so that it tickled her neck, sending another shiver down her back.

  “Yes.” She bit her lip, feeling a strong premonition of what was coming next. What was it about lying in a dark room that brought on serious conversations you hoped to avoid?

  “Tomorrow, when it’s time to cure me—”

  “John, I don’t want to think about—”

  “Stop talking and listen. This is important.”

  She was about to interrupt again when she remembered their earlier conversation about selfishness and her promise not to be that way anymore. As much as it was going to hurt her to hear his words—and she knew what he was going to say—she owed it to him to listen. It was the courteous thing to do.

  No, it was the right thing to do.

  After a brief pause, he continued, “When it’s time, don’t cure me. Without me, they have no leverage against you. It’s your only chance.”

  Conflicting emotions raced through Leah at John’s words. On the one hand, she felt like laughing at a police officer who could be so naïve. On the other, she was shocked that he’d surprised her; she’d been sure he’d come up with some desperate escape plan, like for her to Cure him and then they’d attack the guards. Instead, all he had was a weak idea to sacrifice himself, leaving her alone to face the consequences. Talk about selfish…then it hit her that she’d planned on doing the same thing only a few hours ago.

  I guess we’re not so different.

  She took a deep breath before responding, choosing her words carefully so as not to offend him.

  “John, it wouldn’t work. Even without you, they have plenty of leverage. They know where my parents live. Or they could just bring in strangers. Do you think I could stand there and let more people die because of me?”

  She rolled over to face him in the dim light. His breathing sent sour odors her way, and she knew her breath had to be just as bad—two days of nothing but coffee and junk food, with no toothbrush—but she didn’t care. The worst morning breath in the world would still smell better than the air in the building.

  “No, I don’t think that.” His lips turned up slightly. “I guess it was a pretty stupid idea.”

  “Yeah.” She smiled back. “We’ve had our share of those these past few days, huh?”

  “Couple of real idiots, that’s us.”

  “Well, you did have one good idea,” Leah said.

  “What was that?”

  “You asked me out. I was so scared to say yes, but that was the best thing that’s happened to me in years.”

  John’s smile grew wider and took on a wicked glint. “Not as good as your idea.”

  “My idea?” Leah frowned. “For what?”

  “This.” He leaned forward and placed his lips against hers. At the same time, his hand slipped between them to cup one of her breasts. Despite her exhaustion and fear, she felt her body respond instantly to his touch.

  And after he’d brought her to another screaming climax, she actually managed to fall asleep.

  “Damn,” Ken Pollack said to his watch partner, Eddie Spring, “I wouldn’t mind getting me some of that.”

  “Take it easy.” Eddie kept his eyes on the monitor, where grainy versions of the two captives had just gotten dressed and lain down again. “If Del even thinks you got ideas about touching her, he’ll cut you from ear to ear, and he won’t be letting the lady fix you.”

  “Yeah, I know. Still…hey, are they doin’ it again?” Ken leaned closer to the screen.

  “Naw. Looks like she’s havin’ a nightmare.” Eddie laughed. “I’d be havin’ bad dreams too if my ass was gettin’ sold to some A-rabs.”

  “You think that’s who’s gonna buy her?” Ken opened a can of soda and took a long drink.

  Eddie, a swarthy man with a fat ridge of scar tissue down the side of his neck, nodded. “That’s my guess. Goddamn terrorists got more money than the Colombians or the mob.”

  “I’ll take a piece of that action. Ten bucks says the Colombians. They’re always trying to kill each other.”

  “You’re on.” Eddie wagged his chin in the direction of the monitor. “This time tomorrow, that cell’s gonna seem like paradise.”

  “This time tomorrow, I’m gonna be whackin’ off to a copy of that tape,” Ken said, and they both burst into laughter.

  On the screen, Leah continued thrashing back and forth on the blanket.

  Chapter Seven

  In Leah’s dream, Death had her pinned face-first against a glass wall, his bony fingers gripping her neck and arm, his shoulder pressing against the back of her head, smashing her nose and lips against the glass. On the other side of the window, dwarfish imps, their bodies bathed in the green aura of sickness, danced around John’s naked body, poking him with poisoned sticks. Although no sound reached Leah’s ears, she knew he was screaming in pain, could tell by his wide-open mouth and taut neck muscles.

  “Stop it!” she shouted, but Death just laughed and squeezed harder. Sharp nails dug into her flesh and she felt blood running down her back.

  “They’re killing him! I can save him!” She tried to break loose but the skeleton in the black robes was too strong.

  “You can’t save him this time, Leah,” Death said, his ice-cold voice whistling through the bones of his chest and mouth like a winter wind. “Sometimes evil is stronger than good.”

  “I don’t believe that,” she whispered, but doubt colored her words, causing Death to laugh harder until he sounded like a freight train racing towards her.

  “Do you really want to save him?” Death asked, his teeth clacking together right next to her ear.

  “Yes.” She tried to nod and her lips smeared the window.

  “Would you do anything to keep him alive?” Now the voice was as soft as hers, each word an icy spider scurrying across the nape of her neck.

  “Yes.” She meant it too, but the admission brought with it a new fear, a fear that she’d just started a journey there was no coming back from.

  “Good girl.” The pressure against her disappeared. Leah turned around, expecting to see Death gone or retreated.

  Instead, she found him less than a foot away, his fleshless mouth somehow grinning madly at her. Before she could do more than gasp, he thrust his hands forward, the bones of his fingers knifing into her chest as easily as sticks into mud. Leah shrieked in pain, each individual stab wound clear and agonizing. The assault grew worse, Death’s wrists and arms following the fingers’ lead. Talons pierced her lungs, robbing her of the ability to shout or breathe. Wide-eyed and helpless, she watched as Death pulled himself into her through the gaping hole between her breasts, his body deforming and twisting so that somehow the grinning skull remained staring at her while the rest of him raped her flesh. Then, with an impossible wink of one empty eye socket, skull and hood slipped inside her.

  Only then did she have the breath to scream.

  “No!”

  Leah sat up, clutching at her chest. Next to her, John rolled over and got to his knees, hands up, ready to defend them. With his hair sticking up in all directions and his eyes wild with fear, he looked like a crazy homeless man.

  It was that incongruous vision that calmed Leah more than anything.

  “John! It’s okay! It was just a bad dream.” She placed a hand on his knee. He continued darting his gaze back and forth for another couple of se
conds before his eyes narrowed and he looked at her.

  “What? Are you… A dream?” His chest rose and fell in rapid motions, and she realized he must have been shocked out of a deep sleep by her shout.

  “I’m sorry.” Her other hand joined its partner on his leg. “I had a nightmare. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “Wake me?” He took a deep breath and managed a tiny smile. “Jesus. You scared the freaking shit out of me!”

  “Sorry,” she repeated, feeling terrible for frightening him.

  “It must have been a bad one.” He took her hands in his, their warmth a reminder of just how cold she was. He must have noticed, too, because he switched from holding her hands to wrapping his arms around her.

  “I’ve had better,” she said, trying to make light of the nightmare. The attempt fell flat and she shook her head. “I dreamt about Death. A real shock, huh? No shrink needed to interpret that one.”

  John said nothing, just held her tighter, and she appreciated that. Sometimes a person didn’t want words or advice or platitudes when they were upset, just a comforting touch. And one of the things she liked—no, loved—about John was his ability to know when to try and solve a problem, and when to just be there.

  “John, I’m scared.” She hadn’t meant to say it; the words just popped out without warning. Once voiced, though, she felt better. As if admitting the fear was the first step in conquering it.

  “I know,” John whispered, stroking her hair. His touch was at once relaxing and sensual. “I know. Only a crazy person wouldn’t be. But we’ll figure something out. They need you alive, which means we’ll have the opportunity to escape or call for help, or something. Even if you have to…” His voice trailed off, but Leah had a pretty good idea of what he meant.

  Even if I have to use my Power to kill one of them.

  The thought of it brought on a sudden anxiety. She didn’t think John had any qualms about it; he was probably just being careful not to say too much, in case people were listening. Of course, he wasn’t the one who had to consider murdering someone. She’d be the one who’d have to carry that guilt forever.