“It wasn’t necessary to miss me.”
“You left. I couldn’t find you. I moved on.”
“Irrelevant.”
“I can see things haven’t changed.” Anson’s hand settled against the side of her neck. “I can feel what’s happening to you.”
Her breathing hitched. “And?”
“And I can take it,” he whispered. “All of it.”
She pushed him back. “With your null? The white-eyed woman who cancels out my gifts? She can’t have an effect on me. This is mine.” Her fist thumped against her chest.
Marley cursed.
“She may thwart my goals, but she is incapable of—”
“Not her,” Anson interrupted. “Me. Let me, Cress. I can help you. Just give me a little, and I can take everything.”
“No,” Marley growled.
After a few seconds of silence, Cressida said, “You’re the leech they’ve been talking about.”
Marley cursed again, and Gage heard metal pop, as if she’d climbed off the washing machine. “Stand down, Marley. Those guys are right near you, aren’t they?”
“I’m okay,” she whispered. “But I can’t believe I was such an idiot. That I let him play me like this.”
“How do you know he played you?” Gage was behind but catching up. Anson knew how to leech the goddess. He wanted Cressida to bestow enough on him to allow him to drain her. But he said it like he thought that was what she wanted—to get rid of her power. What was his agenda? Playing them all to gain the power he’d always been after? That was clearly what Marley thought, and she probably knew the man better than anyone. But he could be playing Cressida, not them. If he convinced her to do this, Marley could nullify him. The job would be done.
Assuming any of it was possible. From what Marley had said, it shouldn’t be. But then, none of this should be.
“I was,” Anson admitted. “They defeated me and found a way to return all the power I’d taken. But I’m still capable. And you know you can’t carry that burden much longer.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” The goddess whirled and paced away, spinning back when she reached her chair. “There is no burden. My program gives me everything I could possibly want.”
“Cress, come on. I know you. This whole thing, it’s all about your ego. I know these guys give you a little relief, but you need more. You’re finding the weakest descendants, especially guys whose absences will go unnoticed, and you’re pumping them full of flux. Probably killing a lot of them.” His voice lowered again. “I know you don’t want to be doing that. I know you’re not a villain. Let me help you. You can be happy. At peace. I know you want that.”
Her hand clutched the arm of the chair. “You have no idea what I want. You never have. Get them back.”
Anson remained in place for half a minute. When Cress refused to even look at him, he walked to the hallway and called to everyone else. They immediately popped out of the kitchen and followed him back to the living room.
“Line up,” she ordered. She stood in front of her chair. “You first. Here.” She pointed at Vincent, then each of the rest, lining them up in front of her. Without any further ritual, she held a hand toward Vincent and made an abrupt, small shoving motion. Gage didn’t see anything, not even a ripple in the air, but Vincent cried out, and there was a thud, as if he’d fallen over.
“What’s she doing?” Gage asked. “I can only see in the direction Anson’s facing.”
“Bestowing.” Marley’s voice was very tight. “Small bursts to the weaker ones. Now she’s on one of the older guys.” She hissed. “You can’t see that?”
“Nothing. I mean, I can see her movement but not what it does.”
“It’s slamming into these guys. Not like what happened in the barn.”
“Is it hurting them?”
“I don’t think so. Knocking them over like they’ve been tackled, though. She gave more to the last few.”
Gage had guessed that, since she used two hands. “You can feel how much?”
“Kind of like a nearby breeze. Dammit,” she muttered. “I don’t want them to leave here with it. Did you hear the things they want to do?”
Gage had tuned out a lot of it once he’d gotten the gist. “You’re talking about the personal stuff.”
“Read between the lines. Punishing people who wronged them, defeating competitors, becoming famous. There are no benign ways to use flux to achieve any of that. She’s close to giving them enough to leech. I can feel it. Then it’s just one small step to learning how.”
Gage knew she was the expert, since she’d created Anson, but he was afraid she was going to do something stupid, especially if she was thinking about the addicts. “We’ll take care of them. But—”
He broke off. Cressida faced Anson now, and her beauty had become terrible, lit with fury. Her hair waved in a nonexistent wind that also rippled her shirt. Her hands rose. Her head tipped back. There was no shoving motion, but this time Gage could see the energy. Instead of light shooting from her hand like the first time he watched, it gushed from her entire body, forming a stream that sent Anson staggering back. The picture went staticky, bars and flashes obscuring most of what the camera caught.
“Crap. I can’t see!” Gage wiggled the laptop screen, knowing it was fruitless. “What’s happening to him?”
“Stop,” Marley whispered with horror. “Stop. It’s too much.”
The image jerked and wiggled, as if Anson was having a seizure. Cressida flung her arms back. Anson sagged to the floor, and the camera only showed the carpet. A boot came into view, lifted, and pushed Anson onto his back.
“More.”
Gage didn’t recognize the croak at first. She bent over Anson. His hand clamped around her wrist, and the croak came again. “More.”
“You said you could take it all,” she said with disgust. “This isn’t even a tenth.” She yanked her arm away and sent another gush into Anson, who began to scream.
He wasn’t the only one. “No!” Marley shouted. “She’s going to kill him!”
Gage leaped to his feet. “Marley! Don’t!”
But she didn’t have to. The picture went clear again, the camera motionless, providing a wide view from the floor. Gage could see half of the goddess’s people, all in varying stages of shock at what was occurring in front of them. Cressida, though, was now staring at the mirror. She made a grabbing motion in midair, then jerked her hand toward her. The mirror shattered into the room, Marley’s body the battering ram.
Chapter Ten
Gage Samargo’s driving philosophy seems to be to find a way to do what’s best for everyone, something he admits is impossible but still a worthwhile goal. “Assuming something can’t be done is the only way to ensure that’s true,” he says.
—Wall Street Journal article series
G
age shoved past a young woman in yoga pants, ignoring her shout and the ferocious yelping of the Yorkie he leaped over. The brightly lit hallway narrowed until all he could see was the corner, then the door to Christopher’s apartment. He didn’t stop to think, just lifted his foot and slammed it next to the handle. Wood splintered. Metal clunked. The door flew open and Gage kept going. One of the younger guys stepped in front of him, hands up. Gage wrapped his fists in the kid’s preppy shirt and shoved him to the side.
Cressida stood in the center of the room, Anson unmoving at her feet. Marley swayed by the half-broken food table, her clothes covered in dust and grime. Pretzels and chips littered both the table and floor. Barbecue sauce from the chicken wings smeared the tablecloth and one of her bare feet, and she had popcorn in her hair. A beer lay on its side, the malt pouring out of it with a glunk glunk.
Cressida raised a lazy hand, and Gage lurched into an invisible barrier.
“Are you all right?” he asked Marley, but she didn’t look at him. Her eyes glowed furiously, her chin raised, fists tight, and her body quivered as if it was all she could do not
to attack the woman.
Gage didn’t understand why until he looked at Anson again, and his stomach plunged. He had seen this complete absence of animation before—his mother, and tragic losses overseas. Anson wasn’t simply unconscious.
He was dead.
Gage must have made some kind of sound because Cressida started to flick her fingers in his direction. But Aiden swung in front of her, almost but not quite putting himself between Gage and the goddess.
“No, Cress. That’s my brother.”
Gage’s heart thudded against his breastbone. Aiden wasn’t completely lost to him, but he’d just become a party to murder. They all had, and not a single one seemed to care. The men huddled as far across the room as they could get, but Chris and the others were as steady as if a party guest had drunk too much.
Cressida turned her back on Gage and Aiden to face Marley, who lifted her chin again and balanced on the balls of her feet.
“You would have had him leech me,” Cressida said calmly, clear recognition of who Marley was on her face. “Why?”
“Complicated question,” Marley squeezed out. “Sounded like he thought you wanted it.”
“Men think that a lot.”
Marley gave a half shrug.
Gage tested the invisible barrier, but even with Cressida’s attention away from him, the energy field or whatever it was remained in place. He could back away from it, but not move through it. He slid sideways, his hands pressed forward. Maybe the barrier didn’t stretch all the way to the wall. He kept his movement slow so as to not draw attention and made it all the way across the archway without finding a break in the shield.
“You take from my boys.” The goddess gestured around the room. “They’ve done no harm.”
“That’s debatable.” Marley leaned forward and snarled. “But not the point.”
Don’t tell her we know about the addicts. Cressida didn’t need any more ammunition to kill them all.
He had to get them out of here.
Cressida cocked her head.
“They aren’t supposed to have it. Any more than Anson was supposed to have the power he stole.” Marley didn’t glance down at all, not even a flicker. Gage watched her swallow, saw a sheen in her eyes that disappeared with a blink. Her chest heaved, and he knew she was fighting not to react to Anson’s death.
“Interesting that you call him a thief.” Cressida looked down at him, her expression completely impassive. Whatever history she shared with Anson, she didn’t share his emotions about it. “Isn’t that what you are?”
Gage expected Marley to defend herself, but instead, she deflected.
“Why would you do this?” she asked the other woman. “What do you gain? Even if these guys reach high levels of success like Pettle and Vanrose, no one knows you had anything to do with it. It’s not fame you’re seeking.”
Cressida grinned. “No. It’s customers.” Her emphasis on the word had an odd relish, and Gage didn’t think she was talking about money. There was some reason she wanted—needed?—more recipients.
There was a tiny gap where the energy ended at the molding. He pried his fingers into it. The barrier had just enough flexibility to let him, but then it trapped his hand against the wood.
Aiden slid closer to Gage. “Don’t be stupid,” he whispered out of the side of his mouth. “Cressida doesn’t care about you. Don’t try to be a hero. That’s what gets people killed.”
Was that what got Anson killed? “What are you doing here, Aid?” Gage knew his brother was right. Whether he acted or not, it would probably be a miracle if he and Marley made it out of here without joining Anson on the floor. But his chest tightened when Aiden wouldn’t even look at him.
“It’s just business,” Aiden said.
Yeah, right. “You’re with her. I mean, with her with her.”
Aiden didn’t move, but his cheeks went pink. Gage cursed inwardly.
“This incident might cut into your business,” Marley said. “Once people hear you might kill them.”
Cressida didn’t look concerned. She backed away from Marley, and her four top guys fell in around her, including Aiden. He wrapped an arm around her waist, the first time Gage had seen anyone touch her besides Anson. His brother’s gaze was steady on Marley now, not a challenge, but content in victory.
“My boys won’t tell anyone.” Cress lifted her other arm and they all stood, gathered close. “They’ve had a juicy taste now. It doesn’t matter what they do with it. They want to please me, so they can get more.” She motioned with her head, and everyone moved toward the door.
Cressida twisted out of the group and closed the gap between her and Marley. Gage struggled against the wall, trying to force his way around it, anything to give him leverage. There was no way the woman would leave Marley unharmed.
“You can keep trying to stop me,” the goddess said. “To stop them. But I think you’ll find the sacrifice isn’t worth it.” She sneered and turned away.
For a moment, Gage thought everyone would leave without further incident.
And then Cressida stepped over Anson as if going out of her way to taunt Marley. It worked.
Marley screamed and lunged at her. Cress spun in a graceful circle, picking Marley up and tossing her across the room so fast Gage barely followed the movement. He trapped his own roar in his throat and bared his teeth, trying to shove the rest of his hand and arm through. Cress stalked around chairs and beer bottles toward Marley’s crumpled body.
But when she bent to heave her up again, Marley rolled and took the goddess’s feet out from under her. For the first time, Cressida lacked grace and elegance as she tumbled to the floor.
Gage got his arm through. “Help me!” he ordered Aiden when his brother glanced at him. “Pull me through!”
For a second Aiden’s face tightened in indecision. Then he turned away.
“Grrraaauuughhh!” Gage shoved his shoulder against the barrier and ground his teeth in agony, pushing his way through. This damned wall was going to slice him in half. But clammy palms closed around his wrist and forearm. He opened his eyes and saw Jared and Vincent pulling with all their might. Which wasn’t much, because both alternated panting and keening, their eyes practically rolling back in their heads. In their panic, they seemed to have forgotten about the flux. Or maybe they had no clue how to use it.
“Brace your feet!” Gage ordered. He looked over at Marley. She had her hands around Cress’s throat, her eyes narrowed with intent. But Cress didn’t even look concerned, never mind distressed. Her hands waved in the air around Marley, whose body jerked and rolled. She tilted her head back and whimpered. It was the opening the goddess needed. She circled her arms up between Marley’s, sweeping them outward and breaking the hold. Then she struck Marley in the ribs, just above the knife wound. The crack echoed in the otherwise silent room.
“Goddamn it!” Gage didn’t care that he was no more of a threat than Marley was. He couldn’t stand here, trapped and unable to help her. If he could just get through, maybe he could get behind Cressida and knock her out with a booze bottle or something.
He used the leverage the boys’ hold gave him and pushed with his legs, making progress inch by infinitesimal inch. Marley somehow managed to land a punch under Cress’s chin. Her teeth clacked, the blow enough of a distraction to weaken her hold on the barrier. With a pop, Gage was through.
He’d only made it a few steps when Aiden grabbed him by the shoulders. “No! Let it go!”
When the hell had his brother gotten so tall?
“Leave with us.” Gage barely knew what he was saying. “Help us. Cress is dangerous. This whole thing—”
Aiden shook his head. “You don’t understand. None of this would have happened if that woman”—he pointed at Marley—“didn’t have a vendetta against us.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Aiden looked at him seriously. Not with bravado or denial but a simple question. “Do you?”
Gage stared at him. His silent admonishment for Marley to not reveal what they knew resounded in his skull. He wanted to believe Aiden didn’t know about the depleted addicts, that knowing would make a difference. But that woman had killed a man. She didn’t care. And Aiden was still leaving with her.
Whatever had happened in a few short weeks, his brother was a different person. Cressida had changed him. Love or worship or brainwashing—whatever drove Aiden, Gage had no chance to overcome it. Not here, not now.
His heart broke, and he opened his mouth to make one last-ditch attempt to get through to him. But he had no idea what to say.
Marley cried out, and Gage made his choice. He couldn’t save Aiden right now, but maybe he could save Marley. He twisted out of Aiden’s grip and ran across the room, where Marley curled on her side.
Cressida moved away, her expression as implacable as it had been before everything started. “You.” She pointed at three of the observers, then at Anson. “Take him with us.”
“Leave him!” Marley croaked from the floor. She’d struggled to her knees by the time Gage reached her. He crouched to hold her back. “He’s not yours!”
“He’s no one’s.” Cress’s trilling laughter trailed behind her into the hallway.
Gage gathered Marley into his arms and stood to carry her out. That she didn’t struggle to stop him or even protest was frightening. She was light. Too light for her height and build. Her hands were limp in her lap, and her face pressed into his neck felt feverish. He had to get her out of here, find out how badly she was hurt. He’d take her to the hospital. He turned and jerked to a halt. Christopher hadn’t followed everyone else.
He said to Gage, “You’ll want to be leaving now, before I call the police.”
Gage shook his head. “You won’t do that. No one here is innocent.”
“It’s my apartment. You broke in.”
Hard to argue with that. Gage’s boot print was probably on the door. “I heard screams. Thought someone was in trouble.”
Chris jerked his chin toward Marley. “She didn’t come in through the front door.”
“Can you prove it?” Gage looked around the room. “Pretty obvious you had a party here. How would the police react when I say a murder was committed?”
Sunroper (Goddesses Rising) Page 17