Perfect Weapon

by Jade Kerrion

  Reyes and Zara threw themselves at Galahad. Galahad turned on them, hate blinding him. Reyes collapsed, bleeding, cut down by Galahad's blades.

  "No," Danyael gasped, stumbling forward to break Reyes's fall. He cradled the old man in his arms. Reyes's brown eyes were wide, his face ashen. The front of his shirt rapidly soaked with blood. "Reyes, look at me. Stay focused on me," Danyael instructed quietly.

  "He wants what you have..." Reyes gasped. "But he doesn't know how. He tries to take...doesn't understand that it's by giving..."

  "Hush, don't strain yourself---"

  Reyes caught Danyael's hand and held it away from his body. His voice, wavering with impending death, rang with conviction. "No, no healing. You need all your strength. It's my time now..." Reyes reached out and placed trembling fingers against Danyael's chest. "Your love makes you strong. Don't forget that." He shuddered, eyes glazing briefly from the brutality of the pain that must have been consuming him. Reyes smiled one last time. "Proud of you..."

  The tension eased out of Reyes's body as his eyes fluttered and closed. The whisper of his final breath faded into silence.

  Danyael exhaled, the sharp sound dangerously close to a sob.

  Zara's gasp ripped through his shroud of grief. She slumped against a wall, her hand wrapped around her waist. Blood oozed out from between her fingers.

  Galahad, the personification of lethal grace, stepped into a kick. His booted foot smashed into Zara's unprotected face, flinging her to the carpet. Galahad spun around, but Danyael was already moving.

  Galahad's fist swung out. The blade of the knife he held between his fingers dripped with blood. Danyael ducked under the attack, pushing out with the palm of his hand to deflect the direction of Galahad's blow. Skin touched skin.

  In that moment, Danyael's choice seemed perfectly clear, channel the deadly power of emotional anguish past psychic shields and drive Galahad to suicide. Zara needed medical attention, and Danyael could not win the fight any other way.

  An image flashed through Danyael's mind, though, one of white walls and cold white tiles, of a narrow bed, a table, and a single chair. The largeness of Galahad's suite at Pioneer Labs was accentuated by its emptiness. It was stark, sterile, and dehumanizing, and it had been Galahad's home and prison for a quarter of a century. A year at ADX almost destroyed me. How could twenty-five years---twenty-five formative years---not have an impact on him?

  Compassion contained the deadly manifestation of Danyael's empathic powers. His psychic shields never faltered. Nothing, not even a sliver of his emotional heartache, transferred. Instead, physical pain surged out. Galahad's eyes flared wide as his synapses fired, overloading his mind and stunning him into unconsciousness.

  Blood flowed down Danyael's side as he gathered Zara in his arms. Her eyes, glazed with pain, met his. Her fingers grasped weakly at his shirt. "It's going to be all right," he promised softly. His empathic healing powers wove through her body like silken threads, smooth, nearly invisible, yet startlingly strong, repairing the damage from the inside out. He lifted her shirt and trailed his hand over her stomach, and the open wound sealed. Scar tissue turned into scabs and then fell away. Puckered skin smoothed until all that was left was the smear of blood over tanned, flawless skin.

  His touch on her cheek was nearly a caress. He eased away her pain, soothed the swelling around her bruised and bloodied eye, and straightened her broken nose. His body, still numb from painkillers, struggled with the additional burden of healing Zara, but he would have paid any price to save her.

  She sat up cautiously and pressed her hands to her face, to her body, checking for injuries and finding none. "Thanks. Are you okay?"

  "I'm fine," he said, even though he was not certain. He lowered his voice so that only she could hear. "Besides, if I let you die, who's going to kill me?"

  Zara scowled at him. She glanced over her shoulder at Galahad, slumped unconscious on the carpet. "How long will he be out?"

  "I don't know."

  "And Reyes?"

  Danyael lowered his gaze and shook his head.

  Zara was briefly silent. When she spoke again, her voice was brisk. "We need to take care of you. That knife wound in your side is not going to stop bleeding on its own. Shirt off, and sit in a chair. Lucien, do you have a first-aid kit?"

  Danyael peeled off his shirt and sank into a chair in front of Lucien's desk. He folded his arms on the table and leaned forward to pillow his head on his arms. He heard Zara and Lucien moving about the study, but he did not look up. To distract himself from the ache of losing Reyes, he ran through a mental inventory of the medication he had on hand. Another shot of adrenaline would likely get him through the next hour, and if the pain got too bad, he had four milligrams of hydromorphone standing by. And after that---

  Danyael hissed when a cold, stinging sensation set into his side.

  "Relax," Zara said. She held antiseptic wipes between her latex-gloved fingers. Carefully she wiped around the serrated edges of his wound, cleaning the jagged tear of skin and flesh. "Looks like you lucked out with a flesh wound. How bad is the pain?"

  "Can barely feel it," he lied. The pain seeped out from under the painkillers, a dull, grinding ache that promised to escalate over the next hour.

  "You need stitches."

  "Surgical tape will do, and then bandage over it." He spared a glance at the first-aid kit that lay open on Lucien's desk. "If there aren't enough bandages, just cut my shirt into strips. It'll work just as well."

  "It's filthy."

  "From my blood. It's fine."

  Zara frowned at him but did as he asked. When she was finished, Danyael stood, carefully flexing the muscles in his back to test his range of movement. It was limited, but it would suffice. "Thank you," he said, accepting the crutch she held out. He turned slowly and paused, surprised to see Lucien standing directly in front of him.

  Lucien held out a clean shirt. "Here."

  After a moment, Danyael reached out to accept it. "Thank you."

  Lucien glanced around his wrecked study and looked back at Danyael, his blue eyes hard and cold. "I'm not going to say anything I know I'll regret later. I'll be better tomorrow, or whenever Miriya gets around to fixing my head. We'll talk then."

  Or never. Danyael managed a faint smile as he pulled the shirt on. "All right. Goodbye, Luce." He took a final mental picture of Lucien---for luck, for strength, for the sake of life-changing friendships---and turned away.

  Danyael hobbled from the study and struggled down the stairs. Zara had stopped for a short, private conversation with Lucien, but she caught up with Danyael easily. "Where to now?" she asked. "The island?"

  "I'm going to the island after dropping you off with the council. You'll be safe with them."

  Peter was outside the house, pacing restlessly in front of his truck. He scowled when they approached. "Thank God, you're all right. We would have entered twenty minutes ago, if someone called Xin hadn't radioed in on our very private, top-secret military frequency and told us that everything was under control and to stand down. Who is she, anyway?"

  Zara chuckled. "Xin? She's the goddess of anything that has an on-and-off switch."

  "She's a NSA analyst." Danyael supplemented Zara's much-too-accurate description of Xin. "Let's get going. I don't want to be late."

  Danyael followed Zara to their car and slid into the passenger seat. She turned the key in the ignition, and the engine purred to life. "Do you really have to do this?" she asked as she steered the car down the curved driveway and out onto the road.

  "I don't know how else to keep you and Lucien safe from Thomas and the rest of Sakti."

  "We can take care of ourselves."

  "Really?"

  Zara had the grace to blush. "From Sakti, sure, but Galahad's just---"

  "Impossible to beat in a fight?" Danyael glanced at Zara. "He was designed that way, so why are you surprised?"

  "I didn't think he would strike me."

  "He's hurt and
angry."

  "And if you think that excuses him---"

  "He spent twenty-five years as a prisoner and test subject at Pioneer Labs. He's been free for just over a year and a half. That's a steep social learning curve, even for Galahad. He's trying to understand the rules governing relationships---"

  "There aren't any."

  "Of course there are. The simple fact that you take pleasure in breaking all of them proves they exist."

  Zara rolled her eyes. "Do you always believe the best of everyone?"

  "Do you always believe the worst?"

  "Xin sent me to protect you from Galahad. His templates are dying."

  Danyael looked at her sharply. "What?"

  "Eight of Galahad's templates have died in the past year, all under suspicious circumstances."

  "And you think Galahad's doing it?"

  "Xin thinks so. Galahad killed Reyes, and if he could have, he would have killed you too."

  "Reyes's death was an accident." Wasn't it?

  "You're delusional. Do you know what Galahad is feeling? Did you look into his heart?"

  "No, he's shielded, and I didn't push," Danyael lied. Zara did not need to know about the flashes of jealousy and bitterness he had sensed from Galahad. She would pass judgment without considering the other emotions he had also sensed from Galahad: need, longing, and something that might have been love.

  "So your presumption of his innocence is based on your belief in the innate goodness of humanity? Sorry, but that's not going to fly." She was briefly silent, and when she spoke again, she sounded accusing. "You said you loved me."

  "Yes." Danyael sighed. "I didn't intend to make you unhappy."

  "You tell me you love me after you ask me to kill you, and it's not supposed to make me unhappy?" Zara pulled the car to the side of the road, slammed on the brakes, and turned to look Danyael full in the face. "Do you really want to die?"

  "No, but I can't afford to pay the price of succeeding and surviving." Danyael turned his face away from her. His hands clenched to still the trembling. "I wake in the night wanting, needing to scream, but I can't get the sound out of my throat. I count to sixty, waiting for the pain to rip through me. I stand outside a running shower, stare at the water, and wonder how much it's going to hurt. I wasn't perfect before ADX; I wasn't even normal, but ADX took whatever was still normal about me and crushed it."

  Her wide violet eyes appeared black in the darkness before the dawn. She stuttered. "You...don't know that they'll send you back to ADX."

  "I'm an escaped class-five criminal, Zara. I was imprisoned for life without a trial for killing twelve men in self-defense. I know I didn't deserve that sentence, but now I do. I've already killed more than that number today, and if I succeed, I will kill hundreds more. What do you think they'll do to me?" His throat worked as he swallowed painfully. "I've had my second chance---Reyes and the general gave it to me---and if I can save you and Lucien, then maybe it was worth something, but there isn't enough left in me to pay that price again." He looked up, startled to see tears brimming in her eyes. For me? The thought warmed him. He gently brushed away a single tear that trickled down her cheek. "Please help me."

  Zara had no answer for him. She turned away from him and pulled the car back onto the road. Behind them, three idling trucks peeled off the shoulder and continued trailing their car.

  They drove on in silence for a few minutes. Danyael glanced up at the rear view mirror. Their headlights bright, three trucks navigated the gentle curves of the George Washington Memorial Parkway. The waters of the Potomac lapped inky black against the riverbank. In the distance, the familiar outline of the city's buildings gleamed with light. It's beautiful. He inhaled deeply, knowing they were less than five minutes from their destination. Miriya?

  They're gathering. Whatever else you can say about Sakti, they deserve credit for logistics. Within minutes of your hanging up on Thomas, Sakti pulled out of the households they were harassing and started converging on the island.

  Good. Are they all there?

  Possibly. The National Guard and police are setting up a perimeter to keep civilians out of the area, and while they're plenty busy picking up the pieces, they're not reporting any contact with Sakti.

  Are you in place?

  Yes, we're on the Mount Vernon Trail, directly across from the island. I can feel you approaching.

  Danyael glanced out of the window. He saw nothing in the pre-dawn darkness, but Miriya and the council were out there, somewhere. All right. I'm sending Zara and three assault group soldiers to you. Look out for them. "Turn the car around and pull over."

  Zara swung the car into a U-turn and pulled onto the shoulder. The trucks followed. Danyael stepped out of the car and waved Peter and the two other Mutant Assault Group soldiers over. "The council is on the trail. Head down, and they'll find you." He glanced at Zara and then looked back at Peter. "Make sure she gets there."

  Zara glowered at Danyael, but when her eyes met his, the cool challenge gave way to something softer, sadder. "I will take care of you," she promised.

  "Thank you."

  She leaned forward. Their lips brushed in farewell, and then she was gone, moving swiftly toward the Mount Vernon Trail, the soldiers racing to keep up.

  Painkillers could not dull the ache in his heart. Goodbye, Zara. When she and the others were out of sight, he pulled on his body armor and limped to the trucks. Awkwardly he climbed onto the back of the trailer, unlocked the door, and swung it open.

  Scar scowled and snorted a distinctly grumpy sound.

  Danyael smiled faintly. "You didn't miss all that much. The real fun's about to begin. Come with me."

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Zara and her Mutant Assault Group escorts traveled two hundred feet down the wooded path before two enforcers from the council stepped out silently from behind the trees. They nodded politely. One of them said, "Your general and a small team of his men are over the next ridge. I'll show you the way."

  Peter hesitated. "Danyael's orders were to---"

  "I'm fine here. Go back to your general." With a dismissive wave, Zara parted ways with the Mutant Assault Group. She stalked down the path, brushing past the startled enforcers congregating around Alex, Miriya, and Xin.

  Laura Itani, cuddled in an enforcer's arms, cooed a happy greeting, but Zara ignored her daughter in favor of yanking Xin around. Zara's eyes narrowed as she scowled at the clone. Her voice, though tactfully lowered, roiled with anger. "Your little fact-finding trip turned into a fucking nightmare. You better tell me that you got something useful out of the damned video implants in my eyes."

  "Yes, I did."

  "Good." Zara flung her arm out at the small island, tucked in between Virginia and Washington, D.C. "Because Danyael's out there, sick with pain and about to drop from exhaustion, and he's leading a bunch of unruly circus animals into a showdown with Sakti. If this was part of your plan, then your plan sucked."

  "We're improvising on this part," Xin confessed.

  "The next time you improvise, don't run with Danyael's plan."

  "On the contrary, Danyael's plan is tactically sound, the best possible plan, given our limited resources. There is no truly safe place for an alpha empath to cut loose anywhere near Washington, D.C., but Theodore Roosevelt Island was a good call. Sakti is congregating on an island with limited avenues for escape, and Danyael's putting as much distance between him and innocent people as possible. He's giving us a chance to contain the damage."

  "He is going to die fighting his way through Sakti. He'll never get to Thomas."

  "We don't know that, but even if he dies before he gets to Thomas, there's a good chance he'll take out most of Sakti, and possibly Thomas too."

  "So it's a win-win for you? What about for Danyael?"

  "No one twisted his arm. He wanted to do this."

  Zara released her breath, a disgusted snort. "He's walking, eyes wide open, to his death, trying to salvage what he can of a situation that he di
dn't start and can't control."

  "We're controlling the situation, but I need eyes on the ground."

  "I'm on it. Did you bring my gear with you?"

  Xin pointed at a large black box on the ground.

  From the box, Zara grabbed fresh ammunition for her Glock and, almost as an afterthought, picked up an additional gun and the portable case containing her sniper rifle. She gave her pouting daughter a fierce hug, and then she turned toward the road that would take her to the island.

  Miriya pushed her way forward. "I'm coming too."

  Alex shook his head. "No, absolutely not. You're the only one tapped into Danyael's mind. We can't do this without you."

  "We're going to need a split-second response before Danyael drops his psychic shields, and the only way to get it is if I'm on top of what's going on, mentally and physically. By the time he tells me, and I tell Jessica, everyone within a several-mile radius of Danyael could be dead, including us."

  Alex glanced at Xin.

  Xin nodded. "Miriya's right. We have no room for error." The clone looked at Zara, who was waiting expectantly. "Keep her safe."

  "Yeah, of course. Come on." Zara looked up sharply at the sound of footsteps on the trail and was annoyed, but not surprised, to see Galahad and Lucien emerge from the darkness, escorted by enforcers. She bared her teeth in a smile at Galahad. Her voice was a soft purr. "Did you enjoy your nap?"

  Alex's voice snapped with irritation. "Why are you both out here?"

  "He regained consciousness," Lucien said. "Zara told me to deliver him to the council."

  Zara strode up to Galahad. "If you ever again wonder why I left you months ago for nothing more than the memory of Danyael, just think about today."

  "I never meant to hurt you."

  She turned her back on him and on the hand held out imploringly. She spoke to Miriya. "Come on, let's go."