Dealers of Light

by Lara Nance

  Desmond wanted them. He craved revenge like a feast after starving. But something about this seemed too easy to him. He paced the room. And yet, there was no way Rolf could know the gun shop owner would report his presence. It had to be a fortunate coincidence. It had to be.

  “Assemble the men. Two should be plenty to pick up the woman, and three can go with you to take Rolf. The rest will stay here in case they escape and come to attack,” Desmond said, turning back to Carlton.

  Carlton licked his lips and started to leave.

  “And Carlton, I want him alive. I want to enjoy his slow, painful death.”

  A smile spread over the younger man’s face. “I’ll make sure you have him.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  “Are you ready?” Rolf asked Sean. The two men stood on the side of Avalon, their forms only darker shadows in the waning light of evening.

  Sean nodded tersely. “Let’s do it.”

  Rolf placed his fingers on the younger man’s nape and found his portal. The tips of his fingers sealed the connection, and he detected Sean’s Light flowing beneath the surface of his skin. Sean’s eyes widened as Rolf began taking the Light.

  He admired his man’s courage in allowing this. Determined to only take the necessary amount to make Sean’s energy undetectable from the other Dimmers in the area, he kept the flow slow.

  “Okay.” Rolf removed his hand. “How do you feel?”

  Sean rotated his shoulders and raised his eyebrows. “Okay, I think—a little dizzy maybe.”

  “Can you think?”

  Sean blinked. “Yeah, I’ll be okay.”

  “Good. Grab your computer and let’s go.” The two men hurried to the car then rushed to Desmond’s. Rolf’s cell rang and he breathed a sigh of relief. “Cara? What happened?”

  “It’s all set. I’m going to meet the others at my house. There will be a diversion in front of Desmond’s house in two hours. Be ready.”

  “Cara?”

  “Don’t worry, it will be okay.” She ended the call before he could ask about her plan.

  He gripped the wheel hard. If her diversion didn’t work, they had little chance of getting into the house with so many Takers still there. He had to trust she knew what she was doing.

  They parked a block from Desmond’s place and crept through the shadows of fences and hedges to the side of the house. Rolf scanned the area with night-vision binoculars then glanced at his watch. Sean knelt on the ground, grasping his laptop to his chest.

  The sound of voices at the front of the house sent Rolf into the protection of the tall red-tips behind him. Car engines roared to life and Rolf peeked. Two vehicles passed down the road, four men inside one and two in the other.

  “It looks like the plan worked so far,” Rolf whispered to Sean. “The two are probably going for Cara, and four for me. That leaves seven or eight here. I hope Cara knows what she’s doing. We need the rest of them out of the house if we hope to get the stone.”

  “I need to find the wiring for the phone and alarm system.” Sean rose from his crouched position.

  “Get to it,” Rolf said. “The others will be here soon.”

  He hoped Cara and her friends were ready. Closing his eyes, he pushed away his fear. Flashes of Sakhet’s battered and headless body popped into his mind.

  It can’t happen to Cara, it can’t.

  ###

  Cara clicked on the overhead light in her living room to battle the reign of thick darkness. The subtle scent of stale air and dust tickled her nose.

  She glanced through the blinds, but the street remained empty. The chill of evening crept into the room, and she rubbed her arms to combat it.

  The crunch of tires on the gravel outside froze her in place. Takers! Her hands trembled as Dusty barked from the bedroom. Taking a deep breath, she gripped the edge of the bar, waiting.

  In only a few seconds, her front door exploded inward and two men rushed in. She forced a calmness to her features that in no way matched the trembling fear in her gut. No way was she going to show them how scared she was. “What are you doing?” She planted her fists on her hips.

  Teeth bared like wild dogs, their eyes were hungry, the Takers crouched in fighting positions, inching toward her. One of them surveyed the room before his gaze came back to rest on her. His muscular arms bulged against his black shirtsleeves and hung at his sides like a gorilla. “You’re coming with us.” He held an arm out to stop the other man from advancing.

  “Really?” She met his gaze and forced herself not to look toward the bedroom door.

  “Don’t be coy, you know what this is about.” He glared. “You can go with us or we can ask again after we torture you.”

  She moved away from the counter, flexing her arms and bending her knees. “Okay.”

  A flash of confusion lit the man’s eyes, and he glanced to the side. Dusty barked from the bedroom. “Who’s in there?”

  “My dog. Want to meet him? He’d like to meet you.” She gave him a defiant stare, inviting him to attack.

  “Bitch,” he growled, eyes sparking with anger. He lunged toward her.

  Cara balanced on the balls of her feet, ready. She evaded his grasp, took his arm and used his momentum to swing him into the man behind him.

  “Now,” she yelled.

  The rest of her group burst from the two doors on either side of the living room and entered the fray. The Takers initially stumbled back in surprise, but one yelled and they attacked, snarling like wolves. Shana got in a blow to one and Marc felled him with a kick to the chin. Tor grabbed the man Cara’d attacked and pushed him into the wall. Dusty rushed in and latched onto his calf, snarling. The Taker staggered until he shook Dusty off, then rushed at Cara. She swung her clasped hands and hit him in the stomach. He doubled over, and she followed up with a downward blow to his neck.

  Cara took a hitched breath as Tor crunched the spine of the man she downed and then struck the one felled by Shana and Marc with precise blows of his foot. No need to take their Light. Marc knelt beside them and confirmed they were dead with a grim nod.

  The group stared down at their work, breathing hard. Amber and Alistair had stayed on the sidelines but stared down at the bodies in horror. Dusty barked at the Takers until Amber grabbed his collar and dragged him outside.

  “Let’s finish this.” Marc frowned. He wiped the sweat from his brow with shaking hands.

  “Sorry, Cara.” Tor gave her an apologetic grimace as he pushed Amber out the door.

  Cara nodded, went into her bedroom and picked up two bags of items she’d salvaged. She gave the house a last survey and followed the others out the back door. Tor remained inside with Marc.

  Amber and Shana put their arms around Cara’s shoulders as flames began to flicker in the windows. Dusty whimpered and pressed against her legs. She turned and buried her face into Amber’s hair, squeezing her eyes to block the tears. Her little house. The remaining piece of her old life, gone. What was she going to do once this was over?

  “Let’s go.” Tor rushed from the back door with Marc and Alistair behind him.

  They hurried through the gathering darkness along the shrubs at the edge of her back yard. Slipping between the tall bushes, they crouched down and ran one at a time to slip into their “borrowed” SUV then sped away into the night.

  ###

  Cara pulled up to the curb a block over from Desmond’s house. Cara’s friends headed to the line of shrubs where Rolf waited for them.

  Nicki and about a dozen of her friends arrived in a beat up van at about the same time and spilled into the street. Mambo snarled and slapped his ball bat into his palm repeatedly. The others carried a variety of knives, chains, and crowbars, ready to have revenge on the people who had targeted their gang and killed a few of its members.

  Cara had brought them all up to full Light while at Nicki’s earlier. “Nicki, over here.” Cara motioned from the side of the SUV.

  Mambo walked up to her. “You helped us.
I don’t forget.” He gave her a quick nod and went to join his friends.

  “Cara! Oh my God!” Nicki ran up to her and grabbed her arm.

  “What?” Cara frowned.

  “He’s one of them, Cara.” She pointed toward the group by the shrubs, to a man who stood off to the right apart from the others.

  Marc? Cara’s heart froze, and her knees went weak. She backed up to the SUV for support. “You…you have to be mistaken. What do you mean, one of them?”

  “A Taker.”

  Cara turned cold all over. “No way.”

  “I’m tellin’ you, he hit on me at a bar a few weeks ago. Don’t you remember, I told you about being attacked by one before the guy that came to my apartment? He had the same crazy look in his eyes. He’s a Taker!”

  “How—how did you get away?” Cara thought the ground had dropped from below her feet and put a hand on the side of the SUV to steady herself. Nicki had to be mistaken. She was just scared. Hyped up.

  “I kneed him in the nuts.” Nicki gave an evil grin. “And I ran away.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive.”

  Cara stood there, mind whirling for a few seconds. But Marc had fought at their sides, killing Takers since they left Norfolk.

  Hand propped on the hood of the SUV to remain upright, Cara stared at Marc. No, he was a Dealer. Couldn’t be a Taker. Nicki was wrong. She turned her focus to the troubled girl beside her. The girl nodded, holding Cara’s gaze. Shoulders wide, Nicki stood tall.

  Oh, God.

  “Okay, I’ll handle it. Don’t worry. You guys just do your part and help us get inside. If it gets too rough, take off. Got it?” She put a hand on Nicki’s shoulder and searched her eyes, but there was no doubt there. Dear God, please, there has to be some other explanation.

  “Got it.” Nicki flipped out a wicked looking, pearl-handled switchblade, six inches of polished steel shining in the moonlight.

  “And, Nicki?” Cara gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Thanks for the help.”

  “Hey, I owe you, and we want to dust these creeps for what they done to our peeps.” She trotted back to her gang, who waited by their rusty van.

  Mambo gave her a two finger salute and the Viper Force jogged down the street to the front of the townhouse.

  Cara took a deep breath and followed her friends, her heart breaking.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Desmond slammed down the phone. “Damn it, Carlton, where are you?” They had better not let Rolf escape or he would slaughter them all.

  He stomped to the front door and reached out to punch in the number of the security code on the alarm system to open the door. The light blinked yellow. An icy fear shot through him. Something was wrong. He keyed in the code but the yellow light remained.

  “Hey, assholes,” a deep voice boomed through the closed door. “Come out and play.”

  Desmond put his eye to the peephole. Scruffy-looking people holding weapons filled the street in front of the house. He jerked back, stunned. Fury exploded white hot fireworks in his head. The people shouldn’t be defiant yet.

  Rolf!

  “Chuck,” Desmond roared. “Get the men. Now.”

  The remaining eight Takers rushed into the room.

  “What is it, Master?” Chuck said, brows pulled together.

  “Take care of the mess outside and quickly.”

  The Takers flew out the door and Desmond slammed it shut behind them. He punched in the code for the alarm again, but it stayed yellow. He beat the pad with his fist.

  He swirled to face the stairs, a shock of fear running through him. The stone! He rushed up the steps two at a time and ran down the hall to the library where the stone rested in its regal gold statue. Frozen in horror, he stood in the doorway and watched an older man and a woman clawing at the stone.

  “You will die for this,” he said in a low snarl. His anger burned like an inferno that urged him forward. He would destroy them.

  ###

  “I don’t think so,” Cara said and her eyes shifted to the right of Desmond where Rolf waited.

  Desmond glared, and he swung around to face Rolf.

  “You,” Desmond screamed, his hands coming up, fingers curled into claws.

  Rolf launched himself forward and landed on Desmond. They fell to the floor, Rolf’s hands clenched on Desmond’s neck.

  “Run, Cara. Take the stone,” Rolf said between gritted teeth as Desmond clawed at his arms.

  Cara pried the stone loose from its holder with shaky fingers. It finally came out, and she shuddered at the absolute coldness radiating from its smooth surface.

  She grabbed Alistair’s arm and yanked him from the room as Rolf and Desmond wrestled on the floor, grunting and cursing. At least we have the stone now. Marc, Tor, Shana and Amber rushed into the hall from the side room housing the computers.

  A car’s tires squealed out front. Cara ran to the window overlooking the street. The gang had taken down about half of the Takers. The Takers lay battered and bleeding on the street, but a car had pulled at an angle to the curb and four men jumped out to join the fray.

  “Bad news,” she said. The front door slammed open and yells echoed up the stairs. “They must have realized the Rolf sighting was a decoy and come back.”

  Cara thrust the stone into Alistair’s hands and pushed him further down the hall. “Get ready to fight,” she yelled to the others.

  Tor didn’t wait. He jumped on the man in the lead coming up the stairs. The impact sent him and the man behind him crashing down to the landing. Cara, Shana and Marc ran after them, down to the foyer and living room. The bodies tangled and flailed, finally separating, and the fighting started in earnest.

  The front door hung open and the fight flowed in and out as Takers struggled between the street gang outside and the Dealer gang inside. Cara kicked and hit, her body instinctively falling into the rhythm of the techniques they’d learned. Amber creeped down the stairs holding a black stone statue in her hands with Alistair behind her. Cara pressed the attack, forcing the man she fought back toward the staircase. Amber brought the stone figure down on his head, and he dropped to the floor.

  Cara gave her a thumbs-up and whirled to help her friends when a few of the outside Takers rushed inside. Tor’s round-house kick lifted his man from his feet and slammed him against the wall. When she saw the man crumple to a heap it gave her a surge of hope.

  Shana punched her opponent in the stomach, and he doubled over. She brought her knee up under his chin, snapping his head back. Cara grabbed the poker from the fireplace and swung it with all her might at the man’s head. She flinched as a curtain of blood erupted from the impact and splattered the walls. The man went down drenched in red. Her stomach heaved, and she staggered backward. Shana caught her arm and kept her from falling, but it didn’t stop her scream of horror at what she had done.

  Marc struggled with a Taker in the doorway and finally flipped the man over his hip to send a blow to the man’s head. The Taker grunted and twitched. Tor and Shana ran to the other Takers and checked to see if they were all dead. Outside, the battle raged on.

  Marc knelt beside his victim who still moved and put his fingers on the bend of his elbow. Marc’s portal.

  “Marc, what are you doing?” Cara screeched, her heart turning to ice.

  Shana and Tor’s footsteps echoed behind her. Amber and Alistair gaped, frozen on the stairs. Marc looked up and the mask of ecstasy melted from his face, replaced with guilt. He jumped to his feet, backing toward the open door, pale and trembling.

  “Marc?” Shana walked forward, eyes wide. She glanced at Cara. “What’s going on?”

  “Tell her, Marc.” Cara crossed her arms, hoping to stop her shivering and keep the contents of her stomach in place.

  “Dude, were you taking his Light?” Tor moved up beside Shana, frowning.

  Shana turned back to Marc, mouth hanging open.

  “Oh, God, Shan!” Marc reached out shaking hands to
her. “I’m so sorry. But you don’t understand. It was the girl in the ER. The one I saved. During the process of saving her, some of her tortured Light passed into me. I saw all those images of what was done to her and I felt what the Takers felt.” He put his hands to the sides of his head. “God help me, but it was addictive. Torture. I had to have it again and again.”

  “You’ve been killing people?” Shana pressed her hands to her face, and tears rose in her eyes.

  He nodded and tears coursed down his own white cheeks as he grimaced. He tugged at his hair, eyes gone wild. “Yes, I’ve killed people. It’s horrible. Me, a doctor. I don’t want to do it, but I can’t escape the need. You don’t know what it’s like. I’m tortured from morning till night. If I don’t have it, I’ll die. Shana, please understand?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Shana’s voice quivered and a sob escaped her lips. “We could have helped you.”

  “No.” Marc shook his head back and forth like a crazed animal. He hugged his arms around his chest. “There’s no help. You heard what Rolf said. I’ll just keep killing until I turn completely evil. I’ll be one of them. A Taker.”

  He sank down on his knees, sobbing, and Shana stepped forward, arms outstretched, body wracked with sobs, but Tor grabbed her elbow. “No, Shan. It’s too late. Stay away.”

  Shana jerked away from him, fire coming back to her eyes. “It’s my Marc. I have to help him. There has to be a way.”

  “Shana, no!” Alistair called from the stairs.

  Everything happened in a flash. Marc came to his feet. A flicker of hope shone in his eyes. Then suddenly his expression went dark, he snarled, and reached for her throat. Shana put up her hands to grab his and screamed. Marc gasped, his eyes went wide and his arms flew out to the sides. He fell toward Shana, taking her to the floor, falling limp over her body. A pearl-handled knife protruded from his back, and blood seeped from the wound.