Magic Man

by Stone, Wendy

  “Great, how we going to get in?”

  “Mage will get us in, don’t worry. We go in, we free our people and then we get the hell out. We’re going to need something bigger than this Hummer for transport though.”

  “There was a bus,” Drake said softly, pushing past Kit to flip through the pictures. He found the picture of it sitting near the front gate. “Here.”

  “Okay, then. As soon as it gets dark, we’re going in. I want stunners on full. We can’t kill the humans. Also, I want to take the good Dr. Parnell back with us and see what he knows. If possible, we’ll extract his knowledge, destroy any written or computerized information and leave the good doctor wondering what he’s been working on for the past few years.”

  “What about the captives?” Lee asked. “They are going to need help trying to cope with what they’ve been through.”

  “They’ll get it. Shadow has brought a new doctor on the team. She’s a shrink. She’ll help them.”

  “A shrink? Please tell me he’s not going to force team members to go see her.”

  “If he thinks it’s necessary, yes he will. Now, we’ve got about three hours to dusk. Let’s go back to town, get food and get prepared for this mission.”

  Kit was about to close up the back of the Hummer when a loud buzzing sound startled her. She looked up, her eyes narrowing as two people on a low slung motorcycle went flying by the Hummer. The one driving the bike turned his head and looked at her. Even through the plastic face plate, Kit felt a strange sensation. It tingled along her nerve endings and she shivered.

  “Kit?”

  “Get the plate on that bike. I want to know who the driver is.”

  Lee drew a few runes in the air, and then closed her eyes, mumbling under her breath. She rattled off the plate number, her amber cat eyes opening slowly. They seemed to spark with golden light, then she blinked a few times and it was gone.

  “I got it,” Drake said, “but there’s no link with our satellite out here. Too much interference,” he said, glancing curiously around the area.

  “Fine, let’s get somplace where we can.” She slammed the back gate on the Hummer and climbed into her seat, glaring at all of them until they joined her, Drake driving once again as they headed back into Wolverine.

  * * * *

  Terry groaned again as the pain bore down. She was sitting on her haunches now, sweat pouring off of her face as she stared at the midwife. “You want me to what?”

  “Walk. You need to walk. Gravity will help bring the baby further into the birth canal.”

  “Nashe Wolfe, when you get back here, I’m going to tear off parts of your anatomy!” She growled as Marissa and the midwife helped her off the bed. “He’s never touching me again,” she told Marissa.

  “I bet, sweetie.”

  “No, I mean it. He’s not getting that hot bod of his within ten feet of me ever again.”

  The midwife chuckled. “I’ve heard that so many times. But this time, I almost believe her. Of course, with a husband like hers, it would be such a waste.”

  Her assistant, a tiny thing who couldn’t have been more than nineteen nodded. “Yeah, he’s a hunk all right.”

  Terry growled, her eyes glowing an eerie blue as she fought through another contraction. She kept walking, plodding one foot in front of the other even as her body cried out for rest, for a cessation of the pain, for Nashe.

  “Did Lukah find him yet?” she asked Marissa, accepting the ice chips for her mouth. They tasted so good but seemed to vanish so quickly.

  “No. His cell phone is off, sweetie. He’s going to keep trying and also see about getting help from others in locating him. It’s okay, Nashe will be here. He wouldn’t miss this for anything in the world.”

  “He would to help his family,” Terry groaned. She sent out her thoughts, searching for his in the millions of others she could feel. “Nashe,” she groaned again. “I need you.”

  They walked around the room and down the hall to the stairs, then back into the bedroom. Terry sensed that others were in the house as well, but she didn’t see anyone besides Marissa and Lukah, when he poked his head in to find out how she was doing or to let her know any information he’d found about Nashe.

  “I can’t,” she moaned when they went to take her for another circuit of the room. “Please, can’t I lie down for a while?”

  Her face was white and she was stumbling more than walking. Marissa didn’t wait for the midwife to agree, instead supporting her friend and helping her back into the bed. Terry lay on her side, her eyes closed. Shadows darkened the fragile skin under her lashes and she sighed heavily.

  “She’s exhausted,” Marissa said to the midwife. “Isn’t there anything you can do?”

  “Babies come when they will,” the woman said. “First babies especially. If she hasn’t made any progress in a couple of hours, then we’ll reevaluate. For now, she can rest a bit.”

  Marissa could feel the anxiety coming off her friend. She was worried about her husband, worried about herself. Doing the only thing she knew how, she climbed up on the bed behind her and scooted close, wrapping her arm around Terry and holding her gently. She took her friend’s hand in her own. “I’m here with you,” she whispered, trying to comfort her. “I’m not leaving, Ter.”

  “Thank you,” Terry whispered, twining her fingers with Marissa’s.

  * * * *

  Brady woke, his head aching from the drugs, his body lethargic and heavy. He pulled at the bindings holding him to the table, his eyes searching the area around him. He was alone.

  Concentrating, he tried to free his hands. It didn’t work. He could hear the gentle hum of the generators, the ones Parnell said would hamper his powers. Anger grew inside of him like a bubble, quickly filling and starting to press at the sides. It would burst, he knew.

  With a thought, he sent the bubble of anger from him, trying to use his mind to position it over one of the generators. He struggled. It seemed almost beyond his doing, this small thing that he was used to accomplishing effortlessly.

  “Come on,” he muttered. “Come on.”

  One huge shove barely moved the bubble, but placed it right where he wanted it. He filled it full of his rage. “Pop, damn you,” he growled, adding hate to the mix and watching the colors swirl inside. He thought of the bruises he’d seen on Molly, left there by Parnell and saw the bubble swell again. He thought of Tallie, of the petite beauty in the hands of those animals. The bubble grew larger, one side ready to blow. One last thought of Molly, wondering where she was now and if she was safe.

  His worry filled the bubble and it blew, his emotions falling on the generator and shorting it out. Now only three of them hummed around him.

  He was able to concentrate more and he felt the buckles holding him down begin to loosen. “Hurry up,” he growled, low in his throat. “Hurry up.”

  A pulse of joy filled him as he pulled one hand free and he used that to free the other. Sitting up, he saw the IV attached to his arm and he pulled it loose, sending a squirt of liquid to hit the dirt-covered floor. With the IV removed, his thoughts seemed less disconnected.

  A single thought sent up another generator and then the third. The fourth he left running, thinking the hum might cover the sound of his movements. If someone was out there, he didn’t want them checking on him. Of course, the sound of the generator’s shorting out should have brought them running.

  He quickly unstrapped his legs and stood, looking around for his shirt. They’d left his jeans on when they’d strapped him down, but his shirt was hanging on a hook on the wall. Grabbing it, he slipped his arms in and was buttoning it, when he heard a noise at the door.

  Brady quickly slipped behind the opening door, searching for a weapon.

  “Has there been any sign of the girl yet?”

  “No, but the doctor is determined that she’ll be found before nightfall.”

  “That’s only like an hour away.” the guard said, turning his head to glance bac
k at his partner.

  “You know Parnell ... hey, where’d he go?”

  Both men hurried into the room, staring at the empty gurney. Brady stepped out from behind the door, slamming one of the men in the head with the end of the IV stand. The man staggered but didn’t go down. He turned, blood dripping from where the pole had torn into his flesh.

  Brady hit him again, the pole vibrating in his fist. He went down just as Brady felt the first zap of a stun gun hit him. He turned, grabbing the small hand-held device before the guard could hit him with it again. He flipped the small weapon, pressing it against the man’s throat and hitting the button.

  For just a second, nothing happened. Then the man screamed, jerking as the voltage went through him. He fell to the ground, a stain of urine coating the front of his pants. Brady stashed the stun gun in his front pocket, reaching down and grabbing both men. He put them on the gurney, strapping one down by the wrist straps and putting the bigger man’s wrists through the ankle straps.

  With the door open, he grabbed the keys from the first man and then slipped out the door, locking it behind him. He was in a long hallway, the walls painted off white. He counted quickly; twelve doors, six interspersed on each side with the one he’d been in at the very end of the hallway. On the other end, he could see an opening, maybe a waiting room, with a spacious window and the door to the outside.

  “Okay,” he said softly. “Tallie Wolfe, which one of these rooms are you going to be in?” He lifted the keys and went to the first, checking the door and finding it locked. With a sigh, he tried the first key...

  Chapter Twelve

  The door opened slowly and Brady peered inside. It was gloomy and dim; a pile of hay was stacked in the corner and more of those generators were running inside. He went to the generators first, blowing their fuses before turning to see what occupied this room.

  He was a lynx, a beautiful animal; except this one wasn’t anxious for Brady’s company. It hissed and clawed at him as he moved closer, refusing to be cowed.

  “Stop,” Brady said softly. “I’m here to help. I want to get you out of here.” He moved slowly toward the lynx, his hands held up to show he was no threat.

  The lynx cocked his head, seemed to study Brady and then slowly sank down on its haunches. Brady broke the lock that held the collar around his throat. As soon as it slipped off, the lynx started to change.

  Brady watched as the lynx changed into the form of a naked man. He was well built, with long, lean muscles. His hair was the gold of the lynx, with green cat-like eyes that still held a bit of wariness. “Who are you?” he asked.

  “My name is Brady Knight, but we don’t have time for chit chat. We’ve got to rescue the others.”

  The lynx nodded, going to a drawer in one of the many cabinets and pulling out jeans and a tee shirt as well as boots. “They took my clothes when I got here,” he said. “My name, by the way, is Manix. How do you propose we rescue the others?”

  “The same way I got to you,” Brady said, holding up the set of keys. He turned to the door, opening it a bit before sneaking through. Manix followed, close on his heels. They tried the next door. It too was locked.

  Brady used one of the keys and then pushed open the door. On the gurney in the middle of the room was a small girl. She didn’t look past 15 years of age. She had long, curly red hair that fell almost to the floor.

  “It’s Tallie,” Manix said. “They’re trying to figure out what makes her so different from the rest of the Weres.”

  “How do you know this stuff?” Brady asked, as he pulled a needle out of Tallie’s thin arms.

  “When we can, we communicate with each other--telepathically.” Manix started pulling loose the straps that held Tallie down. “Tallie and I have talked a lot.”

  Brady lifted the girl. She weighed almost nothing. “Grab the keys and let’s get going,” he said to Manix.

  They snuck down the hallway, rescuing a Were in every room. Most were in animal form when they found them; only one other woman had been strapped unconscious to a table.

  “Okay, we need transportation and maybe a weapon,” Brady said.

  “On the contrary,” a voice said behind him. “You all need to go back to your cells, now!”

  Brady whirled, his eyes falling upon Dr. Parnell and the guards that were behind him. He laid Tallie down, out of the way of the fighting, before saying anything.

  “I don’t think so,” he said softly. “I think your guards want to put down their weapons and then walk away.”

  * * * *

  Terry’s face was red. Sweat dripped from her forehead as she pushed against the pain, stopping only when the contractions gave her rest. “H-how much longer?” she panted.

  “Not much, Terry. I can see the hair on the baby’s head. Now take a deep breath and push. Hard, Terry. Push.”

  Terry pushed, feeling a sudden burning and then relief as the baby seemingly whooshed out of her. She lay back in relief, until the midwife placed her baby on her stomach.

  His eyes were blue, staring up at her. He had his father’s inky black locks, curled wetly over his head. His face was so serene. “It’s a boy.” She breathed, knowing how excited Nashe would be. She examined every toe, every finger before another pain suddenly took her breath away. “Oh!”

  The assistant midwife took the baby, taking him to be measured and weighed. “Do you have a name picked out for this one?” she asked.

  “Christopher Lukah Wolfe,” Terry said through gritted teeth as she strained to push the next one into the world. That same burning pressure took her breath away and she strained against it. When the gloriously wonderful relief hit, she didn’t know how she could go through this again. The doctor laid the baby on her stomach.

  “It’s a girl,” she said softly, taking care of the umbilical cord. Terry’s eyes rested on the little face. Though red and streaked with blood and other gore, she was still the most beautiful baby she’d ever seen.

  “Abigail Marissa Wolfe,” she said, trailing her fingers through the thick hair on her daughter’s head. “You are going to wrap your daddy around your finger so easily.”

  Christopher was wrapped snuggly inside a blanket, a tiny blue hat on his head. He was placed in a small bassinet and then the assistant midwife picked up Abigail and took her to be weighed, measured and cleaned up.

  Terry watched her babies for a few minutes before she noticed that she wasn’t having any more labor pains. “Shouldn’t the third one follow?”

  Terry glanced at the clock. It was a quarter to midnight. If the other baby was born later, they’d have different birthdays. She felt a faint twinge of pain, but nothing like the labor pain she’d been having. “What’s wrong?”

  The midwife pulled out her stethoscope and pressed it against her belly. She moved it around and then stopped in one place, concentrating.

  “The baby is fine, he’s just pushed up inside you. He has to work his way down. We’re going to give him a bit of help, Terry.”

  “How come I get a bad feeling from you saying that?” Terry asked.

  “Well, it’s not pleasant but I don’t think you’ll have too many problems.” She waited for her assistant to put Abigail in the bassinette next to her brother before starting. They felt along the top of her belly, finding the baby with practiced hands. Then they bore down on her stomach, pushing the baby down.

  Terry grunted at the pressure. She stayed silent, letting them work and do what they needed to do to get her baby out. Her legs were shaking, spread wide upon the bed. When the labor pains started again, she could do little but moan. Tears were streaming down her wan face. She was so tired, so tired and ready to have this over.

  “Okay Terry,” the midwife said, once more sitting between her thighs. “It’s time for you to push.”

  Terry grabbed hold of the assistant midwife’s hand, squeezing as she pressed down against the pain. She pushed until the midwife told her to stop, the burning pain so very fierce.

  �
��I need you to pant, Terry. Don’t push.”

  “Why?” Terry asked, trying to see what was going on. “Is something wrong?”

  “We just have to get the umbilical cord from around his neck, Terry. Pant and then blow it out, okay?”

  Terry did as she was told, panting through the next contraction even though the urge to push was almost overwhelming. She could feel the midwife between her spread thighs doing something, but she couldn’t see what. “Is he okay?”

  The midwife didn’t answer right away. When she did, it almost sent Terry into tears. “Okay, we’ve got to get this little guy out. Push, Terry.”

  The burning pain was quickly finished and the midwife handed the baby to her assistant, not even letting Terry see him first. The baby was blue in color and wasn’t making a sound, unlike the other two who were setting up a howling match in their shared bassinette. “Is he okay?”

  “Terry,” the midwife said softly,” the umbilical cord was wrapped around her neck. It cut off her oxygen. We’ll do everything we can to get her breathing.”

  Terry watched her baby, seeing how the assistant midwife rubbed her back, using a blue bulb to suction out her mouth and nose. “Come on, sweetheart,” she said softly, “Be okay. You can do it.”

  * * * *

  “Tynan Stavaros,” Kit said, staring into the monitor of Drake’s computer. “Great. Just who we need out here with us.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “You’ve heard of Nashe Wolfe, Callie’s half brother? They are related on their father’s side of the family. Callan Wolfe never could keep it in his pants. Tynan Stavaros works for the Wolfe family. If he’s here, Nashe Wolfe is probably here as well.”