“What’s she going to kill with? We have her clothes, so I know she doesn’t have any concealed weapons. Besides, if she wakes up feeling safe, it won’t be an issue. She’ll know she doesn’t have to fight. And anyway,” the voice continued. “She’ll be weak and disoriented, and in pain.”
Another pause.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Stay alert. Let me know as soon as she wakes up.”
“Right.”
The quiet click of a door closing.
I took stock as best I could with my eyes closed. I was lying on a soft surface, apparently a bed. I could feel fabric touching me, so if they had my clothes, I must be covered with a sheet. No restraints. That was good. And now I had the element of surprise, and the knowledge that they were going to try to mess with my mind.
I kept breathing evenly, gathering my strength and trying to ignore the pain. The burn on my arm was still stinging, but nothing else hurt as badly as I’d expected. I must have passed out before they really got going.
I counted the rapid beats of my heart.
Nine hundred and seventy-three beats later, I heard the quiet click of the door again. This time, I eased my eyelids open the tiniest crack. Only one blurry figure bent over me.
Now or never.
I grabbed my captor’s wrist and yanked him toward me as I jerked up from the bed. My fist smashed into his nose, and I followed up with a vicious knee to his stomach. He doubled over, and I hit him as hard as I could at the base of his skull with my two hands locked together.
Pain ripped through my left hand as he fell, and an IV pole toppled to the floor with a clatter. My legs felt like rubber when I staggered to my feet. A wave of dizziness swamped me, the edges of my vision darkening. My pulse pounded in my ears, painfully loud. In a couple of stumbling steps, the dizziness began to abate and I was able to raise my head. A hand closed around my ankle, blasting adrenaline through my veins. I kicked free with a cry and fled.
I hadn’t even made it to the doorway when a large black-clad figure blocked it. Nowhere left to go.
I lowered my head and charged with a berserk roar.
It was like tackling a brick wall. Pain slammed through my shoulder into my neck and back. I staggered. Hard arms crushed me. Screams tore from my throat while I jerked and twisted frantically.
A jab in my butt.
Then nothing.
I woke in mindless terror, thrashing uselessly against the restraints while pain hammered my body.
“Aydan, stop, you’re safe.” Kane’s voice. I froze, blinking and squinting, trying to focus while my panicked panting whistled in my throat. I was back in the dentist’s chair. Wearing a hospital gown. Helpless. Kane sat beside me on the chair Richardson had occupied.
“Aydan, it’s all right, you’re safe,” he repeated.
In an instant, I understood. Kane had once told me effective torture was mostly psychological. They must have placed me in a sim while I was unconscious. I had expected them to try to mess with my mind, but I hadn’t expected this.
I lay whimpering and trembling, unable to control either my voice or my body.
“Aydan.” He brushed my cheek with his fingertips, and I jerked away, shuddering.
It was a sim. Only a sim. I concentrated desperately on making the chair and the restraints insubstantial.
Nothing happened, and panic overtook me again while I fought wildly, beyond rational thought.
“Stop! Aydan, stop!” The avatar that looked like Kane grabbed my shoulders. “Aydan, listen to me, it’s over. You’re safe. You’re not with Fuzzy Bunny.”
“Liars!” I shrieked. “Filthy fucking lowlife murdering liars!”
“I’m not lying. You’re safe.” He held my face between his palms and I twisted, trying to bite him.
He clamped down, pinning my head to the chair, and leaned over me. Completely incapacitated, I glared up at the avatar, distilling all my despair and horror and loss into a concentrated beam of hatred. If I could have killed through sheer force of will, he would be nothing but a heap of crumbling ash.
“Nice sim,” I snarled. “How are you doing it?”
“Aydan, it’s not a sim. This is real. You’re really safe.”
I gasped a couple more breaths, grappling for control. “Yeah. I feel really safe. Tied to a chair with your handy-dandy torch all ready to go.”
He followed my gaze to the torch that lay on the floor in the corner. I jerked my head loose to try to bite him again, and he yanked his hands away.
“No,” he said urgently. “Nobody will hurt you, I promise.”
“Well, thanks, now I feel all warm and fuzzy.” I heaved at my bonds again. Had I felt the faintest bit of give? I wrestled them some more, sweat trickling down my body, heart pounding.
“Aydan, if you’ll stop struggling, I’ll undo the restraints. Please, just stop fighting.”
A tiny flame of hope kindled. I went limp, gasping for breath. “John,” I quavered. “Oh, thank God, John, is it really you? Please… hurry… get me out of here…”
“It’s all right, Aydan,” he repeated as he rapidly undid the straps. “I’ll have you out in a minute-”
He broke off abruptly when I put all my strength into a violent lunge, fists swinging. The force of my attack sent him staggering back, and I spun toward the door.
I hadn’t even taken a step when his massive arms wrapped around me. His weight pinned me against the wall while I thrashed and screamed.
I knew I couldn’t win. There was no strength left in my muscles and no hope left in my heart. My attempts grew feebler until I was completely immobilized. I would have spat at him, but I had neither the spit nor the energy.
“Aydan, please! It’s all right! It was a setup. You’re safe. Everything’s okay.”
“Okay?” My voice rose. “Bullshit! The real Kane would never, ever tie me to a chair! The real Kane would never, ever try to tell me everything was okay when his best friend…”
The last shreds of control slipped away and a raw shriek burst from my throat. “Arnie’s dead and you’re trying to tell me it’s okay, you… you…”
Suddenly I was crying and screaming and beating my head against him, the only part of my body I could still move.
Richardson ran in, and a jab in my arm made the room dissolve.
Chapter 38
In my dream, Arnie’s raspy voice growled gentle nonsense while his hand stroked the hair away from my face. I squeezed my eyes tightly closed, willing the dream to continue. Tears prickled the backs of my eyelids and I held them in with fierce concentration.
He brushed a kiss across my forehead, a familiar touch of warm lips and prickly whiskers.
“Hey, darlin’, wake up.”
I lay still. As long as I could hear his voice and feel his touch in the dream, I could pretend I was safe and he wasn’t dead.
The bed dipped as he sat on it, and I felt his arms around me. “Hey. Aydan. Come on, darlin’, I know you’re in there.”
My eyes flew open despite myself, only to be confronted by a nightmare face.
“Sorry I ain’t much to look at.” He chuckled. “But, hell, I never was. It ain’t that much worse’n usual.”
I gaped at the bruises ranging from deepest black through purple to a delicate though unflattering shade of yellow-green. His left eye was swollen completely shut, and his nose was so heavily packed and taped that the rest of his face was barely visible.
I jerked back, wrapping my arms over my head to curl away from the monstrosity they’d created.
“Stop!” I tried to yell, but my voice came out in a broken rasp. “I won’t! I don’t care what you do, I won’t. I know this isn’t real. I know he’s dead.”
“It’s okay, darlin’,” he said. “I ain’t dead, an’ you’re safe.”
I flinched away from his gentle touch. “Aydan,” he persisted, “It’s okay. Ya gotta believe me.”
I coiled up tighter. I couldn’t bring myself to hit the injured const
ruct that looked and sounded so much like him.
“Aw, darlin’,” he said, and I tried to close my ears to the rough-edged rumble I’d never hear again.
“Ya think this’s one a’ those mind control things, don’t ya?” he asked softly. “This’s real, darlin’, an’ I’ll prove it to ya. I’ll tell ya somethin’ only I could know, same as ya did for me this summer.”
I froze. My heart listened with desperate hope even while my mind tried to block out his words.
“I know Steven abused ya. I know ya won’t let yourself need anybody, ever again. An’ I know how to put a smile on your face in the passenger seat of a highway tractor.”
A single sob leaked out as I uncurled to stare at him. His arms closed around me and I touched his swollen, split lips with trembling fingers.
“Arnie?” My voice was nothing but a husky whisper.
“Shhh, darlin’, ya just about blew out your vocal cords.” He pulled me closer, stroking my hair.
“But… I saw Richardson shoot you.”
“Yeah. Trank gun. Bastard. I owe him one for that.”
I started to shake as reality flooded in. “You’re not dead.” My eyes welled up despite my best efforts.
“Not last time I checked. Hey, darlin’, don’t cry. Didn’t think you’d be that disappointed I’m alive an’ kickin’.”
I flung my arms around him, battling the tears that squeezed out anyway, and he cradled me in his strong arms, muttering comfort and stroking my hair.
I fought my way back to control and pulled away, turning to discover a convenient tissue box on the small table beside the bed. I blew my nose and took stock of my surroundings for the first time.
There was an IV in my hand, although it wasn’t connected to the pole that stood in the corner. The bed looked hospital-issue, and a panel in the wall contained various knobs and fittings. There was a small white dressing on my arm. The burn underneath still throbbed.
Arnie’s voice was soft behind me. “Ya okay, darlin’?”
“Yeah. Sorry about that,” I quavered.
“Aydan, ya got nothin’ to apologize for. You’re amazin’, darlin’, an’ a few tears don’t change that.”
“Thanks.” I didn’t turn to meet his eyes. “Did they tell you…” I gulped as my fragile composure threatened to shatter again. “Arnie, Dave…”
“Dave’s okay, darlin’. They checked him out, stress test an’ EKG an’ everythin’, an’ he’s fine, ‘cept for his back still hurts. Nichele’s fine, too. Everybody’s fine.”
I gasped a couple of shallow, ragged breaths, and Arnie’s hands closed on my shoulders. “Take it slow, darlin’. Just breathe with me. Nice an’ slow.”
I turned to burrow into his arms again. To hell with not needing anybody. I needed to feel his familiar bulky body against me, his powerful arms around me. Needed to hear his gravelly voice muttering tenderly in my ear.
At last, I took a few deep breaths, then pulled away and straightened.
“Thanks,” I whispered. Another long breath. “I’m okay now. Where am I? How did you get me out? What time… no, what day is it? Was it… How much of it was real?”
My numb mind staggered in circles, unable to believe this was reality. Maybe it was still a sim. But it couldn’t be. Arnie was the only one who could know about the passenger seat.
Arnie held up his hands. “I dunno much myself. You’re in a private room in the secured part a’ the Silverside hospital. It’s about three o’clock, Tuesday afternoon. I dunno about anythin’ that happened to ya after I got tranked. I woke up here in the hospital, too. Guess they brought us in by helicopter.”
“Where was I? Who got me out? Did they catch Richardson?”
“Richardson ain’t a traitor, darlin’, it was a setup. An’ I dunno about any a’ the rest, you’ll hafta ask Kane.”
I gulped. “Is he here?”
“Yeah, but I only saw him a few minutes ago when he grabbed me an’ said ya needed me.”
“What about James? Is he dead?”
Arnie scowled. “Nah. No such luck. Richardson tranked him, too.”
I ran a shaking hand over my face. “I completely forgot about those damn ballistic trank guns. I heard the shots and saw the casings, and I just believed…” My voice shook and I clammed up.
“Hell, I did, too, darlin’. I really thought I was free a’ that fucker this time.” He brightened. “But the good news is, he ain’t gonna go through the public legal system this time. No fancy lawyers an’ plea bargaining. This time that fuckin’ asshole’s gonna pay his dues.”
I took his hand, wincing at the sight of his injuries. “Arnie, I’m so sorry.”
“Darlin’, what the hell for? Ya ain’t done anythin’ wrong.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through this because of me. I’m sorry for what James did to you. Now, and… earlier.”
He brushed a kiss across my lips. “No big deal, darlin’.”
I held his face gently as he pulled away. “You never let anybody in, do you?”
He went very still, and then one corner of his bruised mouth quirked up. “It’s different when I do it.”
I laughed.
A tap on the door startled me. I shot Arnie an uncertain glance, and he nodded reassuringly.
“Come in.” My voice was still a hoarse whisper.
“Come on in,” Arnie called.
I tensed instinctively when Kane stepped through the door. He stopped immediately. “Did you tell her?” he asked.
“As much as I know,” Arnie said coolly.
A spasm twisted Kane’s face. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t have time to say it before, but I owe you a huge apology. I wasn’t thinking straight. I know you’d never stab me in the back. Or you wouldn’t have, anyway. I don’t deserve your trust now, but…”
“Aw, shut the fuck up,” Arnie rasped. “Ya dumb shit, ya really think a little misunderstandin’s gonna fuck things up between us? You’re the only fam’ly I got.” He stood. “Lemme know when you’re done debriefin’. I wanna talk to Aydan again later.” He limped out, slapping Kane’s back on his way by.
The relief on Kane’s face made me smile despite myself.
He smiled, too, the taut lines easing from his face. “There’s nothing like almost losing something to make you realize how important it is,” he said quietly.
“Amen,” I agreed. “Speaking of which, um… am I going to live to see tomorrow?”
His smile widened. “Yes. Lots of tomorrows. Stemp’s rescinded the order. Everything’s fine.”
“Maybe for you it is,” I said, and watched his smile fade. “Was that really you, earlier? When I was in the chair?”
He eyed me unhappily for a moment, and took a deep breath. “Yes. Aydan, you have to believe I was trying to help you. The restraints were Stemp’s orders. I couldn’t convince him otherwise. I really thought you’d believe me. I thought you knew I’ll always come to rescue you-”
“And Richardson torturing me,” I interrupted. “That was a setup, too? I was here all along?”
“Yes, Aydan, I’m sorry…”
“Save your breath. Let’s just get the debriefing done, okay?” I rose carefully, and he took a step toward me, hands half-reaching.
“Do you need help?” he asked tentatively.
“No.” I grabbed the robe that hung on the back of the door and shakily donned it. “Lead on.”
Chapter 39
After a short, silent trip down the hallway, Kane opened a door for me and I stepped through. The three men around the table rose, and I froze at the sight of Mark Richardson.
His handsome face twisted as if in pain. “Aydan, I’m so sorry, I…”
“Save it,” I interrupted. “First I want the whole story.”
He nodded and shut up, muscles rippling in his jaw.
My gaze skimmed over Spider’s pale, drawn face to meet Stemp’s reptilian eyes.
“So you set me up. Again. That’s getting old.” I p
referred to think my hoarse whisper lent menace to the words.
Stemp shrugged, impassive as always. “Please sit, and we’ll begin debriefing.”
The sound of his voice sent a shock of recognition through my body. “You. You were the one who wanted to keep me tied to the chair.”
He eyed me coolly. “So you were awake then. I warned the good doctor not to underestimate you. Now he has a tangible reminder of the wisdom of that advice, in the form of a broken nose. Please, sit.”
Rage spread its heat through my blood. It would have been wonderfully defiant to remain standing, but my quivering muscles had other ideas. I sank into a chair before my knees could drop me.
Kane swung the door closed and joined the others as they took their seats around the table.
Stemp nodded in my direction. “Ms. Kelly, we’ll begin with you. What, exactly, have you been doing since last Tuesday evening?”
“Hitched a ride to visit my aunt in Victoria. Spent the rest of my time trying not to get dead.”
After a brief silence, Stemp’s eyebrows rose fractionally. “Succinct.”
I shrugged.
He eyed me for a few seconds, then exhaled audibly. “In detail. Day by day.” Another pause. “Please.”
I blew out a breath of my own and began to recount my activities. When I mentioned setting up the meeting with Arnie at Hotel Village, something about Kane’s immobile posture made me study his face. His eyes widened almost imperceptibly, and I trailed to a halt in my narrative and faked a cough.
“Sorry,” I croaked. “Need a drink.”
Spider sprang up to fill a glass, and in the momentary confusion, I met Kane’s eyes. He gave me the tiniest of headshakes.
I sipped my water, stalling and considering. Maybe he hadn’t reported our run-in at the hotel. If he hadn’t, that meant Dave’s possession and use of an illegal weapon against a government agent would never come to light unless I brought it up.
It also meant Kane was covering his ass. Lying and concealing his actions. Sick disappointment dragged at my heart. He might have betrayed me on a personal level, but I had believed implicitly in his professionalism and dedication to duty.
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