Dark Solar Complete Trilogy: Oleander - Wolfsbane - Maikoa

by D. N. Leo

“No, she wouldn’t do that!”

  “Oh, so you do know who I’m talking about. Who is she? If she didn’t do it, she won’t mind having a chat with me,” Ciaran asked.

  “Who are you, Ciaran, apart from being Arik’s friend?”

  “You don’t need to know.”

  “I do, because if you are Arik’s friend, and you don’t have another agenda, it’s not worth risking your life for this.”

  Ciaran’s eyes darkened. “I’m a friend of your children, second son of your ex-wife. I know the family you long abandoned. Now if you don’t tell me who the fuck that woman is, I’m going to dig the information out. There’s nothing on this Earth that I can’t find out.”

  Before Quinn could answer, they heard a crash upstairs.

  “Jett, watch him. If he makes a move, shoot him. Madeline, please stay here and stand behind Jett,” Ciaran said and ran up the stairs.

  15

  The second floor of the building was dark and quiet. Ciaran scanned the area with his ordinary human eyes. He saw nothing unusual. He didn’t have Madeline with him, and her psychic ability wasn’t working anyway. His instincts told him to go back downstairs as he was at too much of a disadvantage in this darkness unless he switched on his eudqi.

  The image of Diana dead in his arms washed over him like a tidal wave.

  She had been the last advocate for peace, the last hope he hung on to. Whenever his wild, violent instinct hit him, he thought about her. That kept him calm and collected. It helped him think about the multiverse and the human race in a more positive light. The thought of her made him feel there was still hope for peaceful solutions in the Cosmos.

  He had avoided making contact with her to keep her out of any trouble he faced. Now, that peaceful corner of his mind was destroyed. He could feel the rage coming back to him.

  He switched on his eudqi.

  The supernatural energy flowed through his system instantly. His senses were ultra-sensitive now, and he could hear a stream of uneven breathing behind one of the wall panels.

  He approached with lightning speed and kicked down the panel. A shadow jumped toward him. Seeing the flash of a blade, he sidestepped, grabbed the attacker’s knife hand, and twisted. He made a swift move and heard a grunt and the sound of the knife penetrating flesh. Warm blood spurted onto his hand.

  A body flopped to the ground. He left it. He knew there were more people because the scent of perfume still hovered in the air, and even though he had just killed a man, he could still hear the ragged sound of breathing.

  Then he heard scuffling and struggling sounds downstairs. He heard Madeline cry out, and Jett was shouting at someone, asking the opponent to drop his weapon. It sounded as if there was more than one male voice speaking at the same time, but none of them was Quinn’s.

  Listening to the sound downstairs was a mistake—a short moment of distraction his instincts would normally prevent. The next thing Ciaran knew, he took a kick to his abdomen and fell backward.

  A large male stormed out from the darkness, following the kick by jumping and landing his knee in Ciaran’s chest.

  Normally, Ciaran would simply swivel and kick the man away. But his fatal eudqi point was on the left side of his chest. The man followed his knee with a punch. Ciaran had enough time to block it from hitting his fatal point, but the man’s fist had still landed close to the spot.

  He was dazed. It felt as if his chest was going to explode. He knew he couldn’t take another punch.

  In a blurred moment, with only a fraction of a second to think, he decided to take a gamble. He dropped his hands limply to the floor, pretending he had passed out from the pain.

  It worked. The man stopped punching.

  He picked Ciaran up by the collar and thrust him toward a wall panel. The panel slid open, and the woman he had seen in the white van and almost shot at that afternoon walked out.

  Something in her eyes looked so familiar. But he was still too dazed to think clearly. Perhaps he hadn’t needed to pretend to pass out—his body wanted to collapse to the floor right now.

  He had underestimated the effect of having his eudqi on. He hadn’t realized it was such as weak point, and it was a significant tradeoff. If he survived this, the first thing he would do when he got back to Eudaiz was make some type of protective gear to shield the fatal points of all those who had Silver Blood eudqi.

  Even in the dark, the shape of the woman was exquisite and elegant. She was the epitome of beauty. She must have been incredibly beautiful when she was younger, because even now she was still overwhelmingly attractive.

  “Who are you?” she asked as she slid her hand into his pocket and pulled out the jar. She glanced at it and then said with a strong French accent, “Cologne?”

  "I believe so.”

  The man who was holding Ciaran raised his other hand in a fist and was about to punch him in the face.

  The woman interrupted. “Don't hurt him. It’s useless.”

  Ciaran tried to listen for anything going on downstairs but didn’t hear anything.

  The woman asked again, "Who are you?”

  "And who are you?”

  "I don't mean you any harm. I followed you because you called Quinn, and we tracked the signal. Then you went into the apartment where the jar of potion was kept.”

  “Which potion? Did you kill Lindsay's family? Did you kill Diana?"

  "No, I didn't kill anyone. And I can’t tell you about the potion.”

  “Then I can’t tell you who I am.”

  “I can find out who you are. But I simply don't have time for that now. If you’re a friend of Arik’s, tell him bad people are coming for him.”

  “For what?"

  “When the time comes, he will know.”

  Ciaran shrugged out of the man's grip and quickly felt the muzzle of a gun against his temple.

  “I don't know who you are. But judging by the resources you can pull in a short period of time, I can tell you are a man of power. If you are Arik’s friend, as Quinn said you are, tell Arik to think about what’s at stake. Think about the bigger picture. If you want more information, it is downstairs.”

  The woman raised a hand and signaled. The man let go of Ciaran and pushed him away, sending him stumbling to the floor. The man and woman then vanished behind a wall panel. Ciaran scrambled up from the floor. He tried to work his way downstairs. Every step felt to him like moving a mountain. He didn't know how long this dazed effect was going to take to pass. He wanted to get downstairs quickly to see what was happening and to be sure Madeline was okay.

  But his body wasn’t cooperating. He would just have to take it one step at a time.

  16

  The pungent stench of blood reached his nose before Ciaran hit the bottom step. He rushed down the remaining stairs and stormed into the room. In the far corner, Quinn's body and the bodies of two unknown men, riddled with bullet holes, lie crumpled on the floor.

  In another corner of the room, Madeline sat on the floor with Jett.

  He raced over. “Where were you hit?”

  “The bullet just scraped my arm. Jett got one in the arm and one in the leg. Are you hurt, Ciaran? You don't look good.”

  “This isn’t my blood.”

  “But you are hurt.” She stared into his eyes.

  He shook his head slightly, silently telling her not to ask. He didn’t want to advertise in front of Jett the fact his body had been nearly paralyzed by the hit upstairs. “Try to rest your injury,” he told her, looking into her eyes until she got the hint to turn on her eudqi to start his healing process.

  She nodded.

  “Can you hang for a bit, Jett? I’ll take you to the hospital.”

  “Sure, I can wait. But there’s no need for me to go to the hospital. I have my own people. They can patch me up.”

  Ciaran went over to the other corner to look at the bodies.

  “They came out of nowhere,” Madeline said.

  He crouched next to Quinn and gently c
losed the man’s eyes. Then he looked over at the bodies of the other men.

  “Madeline, take a look at this.”

  She came over. When she stood next to him, he stood up, raised his gun, and pointed it at Jett.

  Jett scrambled up and stood leaning against the wall.

  “One wrong move and I’ll savage your head, Jett.”

  “What are you doing, Ciaran?” Madeline asked.

  “Who are you really, Jett?” He locked his eyes on Jett, making sure he didn’t make any sudden movements. He disliked nasty surprises.

  “I’m your security guy.”

  “Indeed, you were. And if you meant to kill me, I would have been dead. But I won't give you the chance to make that call again.”

  Madeline touched his elbow slightly. “What are you talking about, Ciaran? Two guys came out from behind the wall. I told them to put their guns down, but they didn't listen. They gave Quinn a gun as well. That made it three of them and two of us. Then they started shooting.”

  “Who fired first?

  “That man.” Madeline pointed at the man at the far corner. “He hit Jett’s arm.”

  Ciaran smiled. “How lucky was that, Jett?

  “Very.”

  “They had to open fire first to give you every reason to shoot in front of Madeline. Then she wouldn’t suspect you. You wanted to keep her safe, so you bent down, pretending you were hurt, attracting the bullet to your leg and thus keeping it away from Madeline. In the meantime, you returned the shot, killing the man who opened fire. The kill shot was right in his temple. The next bullet was one to the head of the man who shot your leg. Those shots came too fast for them to react. Then the third shot was to your main target.”

  “That’s a very good story,” Jett said.

  “That’s speculation, Ciaran,” Madeline said.

  “The three kill shots happened so fast that they got hit but were still standing. You sprayed bullets everywhere to create chaos. If I check the laser marks from Madeline’s gun, it’ll show she barely hit anything. And if I check Quinn’s gun, I’ll find that he didn’t fire a single shot.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. The whole thing was pure chaos!” Jett exclaimed.

  “I promised Madeline I wouldn’t look into your past. But to clear yourself of this situation, I’ll need to scan you.” Ciaran flipped out a screen from his wrist unit.

  “Scan me? Under what authority?”

  “The authority that gives me the right to kill you right now, and nobody would miss you or even find a trace of you.”

  “Ciaran, you promised me,” Madeline said.

  “And I kept my promise. I didn’t look into his past. But he will give me the scan.” He held his wrist out. “It’s a fast scan, and I promise it won’t hurt—unless you have something to hide.”

  “What if I refuse to scan?”

  “Then you’ll have to take my bullet.” He lifted his gun higher. “But unlike these dead guys, I won’t miss.”

  “Ciaran, everyone has something to hide. This isn’t fair,” Madeline said.

  “Diana never approved of violence. What did she do to deserve him shooting her in the back?”

  “I didn’t do it.”

  Ciaran continued, “If you don’t want to scan, fine. Tell me who you’re working for and what they want, and then I’ll let you go.”

  “I work for you, don’t I?”

  “Don’t try my temper!”

  “Look, I—”

  Ciaran shot Jett’s already injured leg. “The next one won’t be in your leg.”

  As Jett grunted from the hit, Madeline charged over, standing in front of him. “He might be hiding something, Ciaran,” she said, “but he didn’t kill Quinn in front of me as you suggest. I would like you to give him a chance to leave.”

  “Madeline, he can’t just kill people without consequence!” Jett exclaimed.

  “He can. Trust me, Jett. So if you have anything to say to save your life, say it now.”

  “I didn’t do it.”

  “You heard him, Ciaran.”

  “I don’t like pointing a gun at you, Madeline. Come over here with me.”

  “You think I’m going to take her hostage? I may not be noble, but I never shoot women in the back or use them as human shields. Madeline, please step aside.”

  “You don’t know him, Jett. If I don’t interfere, you will be dead.”

  “If he thinks he’s God, let him kill me.” Jett started to walk away.

  Ciaran fired into the wall in front of him. “I said don’t move. So if you didn’t do it, tell me who did and I’ll let you leave here alive.”

  Jett stared at him. “I don’t sell people out.”

  He turned to leave, and Ciaran’s finger strained at the trigger.

  “No, Ciaran, I’m asking you to let him leave. Give him one chance. Please.”

  “No.”

  “I’m asking as your wife. I owe him my life. Twice.”

  “I am saying no as the top authority of Eudaiz. I’m asking you to consider your request as First Councillor, Madeline.”

  “This has nothing to do with Eudaiz.”

  “Yes, it does, and if he gives me the scan data, I’ll prove it.”

  “Let him leave. My request stands. I’m asking as your First Councillor, too.”

  He lowered his gun. “As First Councillor, you do have that privilege, Madeline. Are you willing to use it on him?”

  She looked at him, and a tear rolled down her face. She knew what he would say and do next.

  “I have to take him out of here. If he leaves by himself, you’re only one button away from finishing him.”

  “You know me well, Madeline.”

  She wiped the tears from her face and took Jett’s uninjured arm to support him. “Let’s go.”

  “If you walk out of here, Madeline, you are walking out on me, on our family, and on your official responsibilities.”

  “I’ll take Jett to safety, and then I’ll return to you, Ciaran.”

  “No, Madeline. You asked me to let him leave here alive, so I will. But if you walk out of here with him, that will be the end of everything.”

  “Ciaran!”

  “I’ll leave alone.” Jett limped toward the door.

  She looked at her husband. “He won’t survive until tomorrow morning, will he?”

  Ciaran saw the pain in her eyes and was sorry he had caused it. “I don’t have an answer for you right now, Madeline.”

  She nodded, wiped her tears, and walked out the door.

  Part II

  17

  Ciaran slid down to the floor next to the dead bodies. His energy was leaving him in waves. He couldn’t turn his supernatural power on to heal his body because he had been attacked close to his fatal point when he had his energy on. He’d have to heal himself naturally using his human power—which had been reduced to almost nothing.

  His condition was deteriorating rapidly, and if he did nothing, he would soon be dead. For the first time in his life, he felt the powerlessness and hopelessness of being human.

  But in this human form, he still had to follow through with the plan. People’s lives depended on it. He adjusted some functions on his wrist unit, sending off the necessary commands. Then he disconnected with his networks.

  He didn't want to get caught with the dead bodies, so he stood up and worked his way along the wall to exit the room. He saw the car parked outside. Madeline hadn’t let Jett take it. But he didn’t have enough energy to drive.

  As the cold breeze blasted at his body, he zipped up his jacket and followed a dark alley, heading toward a light at the end. He glanced at his wrist unit, which was flashing an alarming red light, telling him about his deteriorating condition and warning him that he didn’t have much longer before his body ceased to function. It was giving him a countdown.

  Being Eudaizian sucked as well. The system treated creatures and bodies as inanimate objects—like cars. And eudqi was like gas. No
gas, and the car stopped working. Ciaran felt the urge to chuckle but was too weak to do so.

  The system clearly wasn’t measuring his emotional energy, which at the moment was causing images of tomorrow’s New York Times’ headlines, reading “Mysterious billionaire Ciaran LeBlanc found dead in dark alley” to flash through his mind. It would be a tragedy to his family, but to the computer system, it would be just another piece of data from Earth’s news to be added to the databank of the multiverse.

  New York’s LeBlanc headquarters wasn’t his turf. The new CEO was in no shape to help him handle any private business. London was a long flight away. He couldn’t call Eudaiz central and ask them to send commanders to rescue him because he was more than sure his signal would be intercepted.

  Arete and his allies were stronger than Ciaran had given them credit for.

  And now, here on Earth, there may be new and unknown enemies. He didn't know which was worse—the known army of multiversal enemies or the unknown Earthly enemies.

  He could call the Daimon Gate and other multiversal allies he had on his side—sticking with the enemies he knew would likely be the safer choice. But in his last moment of clarity, Ciaran chose to remain human and not engage supernatural forces.

  Just before his leg started to give out on him, he saw the subway and the flashing lights of the oncoming train. He didn't know how he got onto the platform and onto the train, but the next thing he knew, he was flopping down on a bench on the train.

  He closed his eyes briefly. Then he opened them suddenly.

  Did I pass out?

  He didn't know how long it had been since he first sat down and closed his eyes. He had no idea where the train was going, but he knew he shouldn't be there. He got off the train at the next stop.

  He reeled along the railway terminal and out into a dark tunnel. He wouldn’t last much longer. He didn't know where he was going or what he was doing. He needed help. That much he knew.

  His knees buckled, and his legs gave up. He collapsed next to a dumpster. Before he closed his eyes, he could see the flashing light of another train coming.