Heavy Metal gr-2

by Natalie J. Damschroder

  “What’s wrong?” Riley got up and leaned closer. “What can I do?”

  “Nothing,” Quinn whispered. After a moment she eased back against the wall again. “It’s the power.”

  Riley tried not to panic. “What’s it doing?”

  “Since I separated the strands, it doesn’t stop moving. It’s like Tanda’s is trying to get back to her—that’s the best way to describe it. Beth’s feels lost and sad, like grief, but it’s fading.”

  Riley tried not to think of what the remnants were doing to Sam right now. And that wasn’t even the worst of what Quinn was dealing with. “And Marley’s?”

  “Sick,” Quinn groaned before taking a deep breath.

  “What’s it going to—”

  Quinn cut her off. “I’ll deal with that when the time comes. When it’s all that’s left, I’ll figure out what needs to be done. I just need to get Tanda’s transferred.”

  Before she was literally torn to pieces from the inside out.

  Riley couldn’t fathom what it would do to Nick if they didn’t get out of here and Quinn died from this. And where would that leave Sam?

  They had to get out of here.

  The first step was to try to let the guys know where they were. Quinn wouldn’t be able to get very far without help, and Riley was afraid she wasn’t enough. “We need to figure out a way to talk to the guys.” She patted the pocket where her phone usually was, but it was flat and empty. Dammit, it must have fallen out somewhere. “Can I see your phone?”

  “Of course.” Quinn passed it over, her hand shaking at its slight weight. “We don’t have a signal in here, though. I’ve tried.”

  Riley didn’t know if her idea would work. Energy was energy, so she should be able to use what she tapped through metal to feed the phone, and if she did it right, maybe she could even increase its receiving ability.

  She needed more metal than the ring on her thumb or the small things in her pocket. She turned and felt the bed, hoping to find some metal pieces, and to her surprise, she found that the whole frame was metal. Like something from a barracks. Were these guys stupid, or just hired guns who knew nothing about the women they’d kidnapped?

  She closed her eyes and concentrated, her free hand curled around the metal bed frame. The faint hum in the phone increased after a minute or two, and it grew warm in her hand. She opened her eyes and checked the symbol. Four bars. “Awesome!”

  “What?” Quinn asked.

  “I boosted the signal.”

  “Wow. Nicely done.”

  “Thanks.” Riley held out the phone. “Do you want to call Nick?”

  Quinn didn’t move. “As much as I want to hear his voice, no. If he hears mine, he’ll know how bad off I am.”

  Riley tried speed-dial number one, smiling when Nick’s name flashed on the screen. But the four bars dropped to three, then two before bouncing back to three. Please let him answer. Please let them be okay.

  The first ring cut off halfway through. “Hello,” Nick said warily, as if he didn’t trust the caller.

  “Nick! It’s Riley, on Quinn’s phone. We’re okay, but we’re being held somewhere. Get Sam to trace this.” She rushed on when he started to ask a question. “Do it fast! I had to boost the signal magically, and it’s already fading.”

  Nick’s orders to Sam were muffled, as if he’d moved the phone away. Sam argued, his voice sounding sweet to her despite the edge of desperation and anger in it. She drew in a relieved breath. He was okay, too.

  Their voices cut in and out for a few seconds. “No no no no!” She pulled the phone from her ear and scowled at the single bar that remained. She tried to focus on it again, but it heated so fast against her palm she stopped, afraid it would stop working. “The signal’s fading already. They might not have time.”

  “Got it!” shouted Nick, loud and clear before the phone beeped the dropped call.

  “Can you boost it again?” Quinn asked, but Riley shook her head.

  “I’m afraid the heat will damage the circuits or something. Hopefully they got the location. But unless they had already guessed what direction we were taken, they’ll still be a couple hours away.” She shifted into a more comfortable position and sighed. “You okay?”

  Quinn didn’t answer.

  …

  Red and blue lights fuzzed into a flashing mess in Sam’s vision. He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his fingers to them. “Cop ahead.”

  “I don’t care,” Nick growled back.

  “Getting pulled over will slow us down.”

  “I won’t get pulled over.”

  “You can’t be reckless. They need us.”

  Nick ignored him, his glare practically burning a hole through the windshield, his hands uncompromising on the steering wheel, and when Sam checked, the gas pedal was mashed under his foot. But he drove smoothly, his reaction time keeping up with their speed. Sam knew he wouldn’t be reckless, per se, but he wondered what was going on in his friend’s head.

  Fucking Anson Tournado. When he got his hands on him again…

  None of what he’d fed them had sounded like bullshit. Sam suspected he was running multiple games, playing different groups off each other. He never would have pegged his old roommate as someone happy to work for someone else, but pretending to, if it would further his own goals? Totally.

  He wished he’d been able to talk to Riley. Nick said she sounded okay, but he wanted to hear it for himself. He’d pinpointed their location in Boston right before the call dropped, but they got voice mail when they tried to call back. By the time they got up there, who knew what they’d have done to her? The car flew over a bad patch of highway, bouncing and sending Sam into the ceiling despite his seatbelt. “Ow! Come on!” He glared at Nick.

  “Sorry.” He motioned to the glove box. “Get the map out, will you? I want the address marked on hard copy. We can’t carry your laptop around while we search.”

  “Yeah, okay.” He dug around Nick’s family photos, a pistol, the plastic envelope with the car’s papers, and a dozen maps from all over the country. “You really need to organize this, man.” He found the map of the Northeast and pulled it out, but the print blurred when he opened it. He squinched his eyes shut again and then blinked hard, trying to make out the route.

  Nick glanced over and frowned. “You all right? What’s the matter with you?”

  “I don’t know. It’s this…the transfer stuff. Don’t worry about it.” He unfolded and refolded the map with the target area facing up.

  “Great,” Nick grumbled. “That means it’s something to worry about. I need you at your best if we’re going to—well, shit. We’re going to Boston. We don’t have to do this alone.”

  Sam watched him pull out his phone and hit a number to speed dial. John’s name flashed in the display. “Come on, come on, come on. Pick up. Crap.” He tapped the steering wheel while the voice mail message played over the speaker.

  “Hey, John. Nick. Got a situation here.” He gave a rundown and the address Sam had identified. “Those people you don’t want to talk about on the phone have Quinn and Riley. We need your help. Meet us there or call me back.” He flipped the phone closed and stepped on the gas again.

  “You think it was a good idea to give him that over a possibly compromised phone?” Sam murmured.

  Nick shook his head. “I don’t know, man. Anson’s got to know we’d try to come after them. He’ll be ready. Can it make it any worse for them to have heard me say it? Even if they intercept John on his way over, the situation can’t get much worse.”

  Sam wasn’t sure he fully agreed with Nick’s logic, but he was sure that Anson either thought he had Quinn and Riley somewhere they couldn’t get to them, or he’d have a trap waiting.

  An hour later—four hours after the women were taken, two after Riley’s phone call—they sat in the Charger in a dark parking garage, waiting. Nick had driven around the brick apartment building a couple of times before settling into a spot where two l
ights were out. John was on his way, but he hadn’t been able to reach any local goddesses capable of fighting, and there were still no protectors close enough to join them.

  All Sam’s symptoms had worsened during the drive, too. Nausea, jitteriness, jagged intensity. He wasn’t sure if there was any useable power left in him, or if he’d burned it all off in the fight. He was too much of a mess to tell. None of the ill effects had resurfaced until they drove inland and away from the ocean. The power in him was totally unlike anyone’s understanding of the goddess/energy connection. When he’d pushed the screw in mid-air and then bent it into a ring, he used what was already in him, rather than drawing on the energy of the ocean. The act had normalized him, and he’d felt even better making love with Riley.

  Immediately afterward, he’d been completely absorbed by her. But with everything that happened after that, he hadn’t noticed when he started to feel fucked up again. Maybe while Anson talked, but it was hard to tell what was physical and what was emotional.

  The apartment building where Quinn and Riley were apparently being held was in Brookline, far enough inland that Sam couldn’t even sense the sea, never mind hope to be calmed by it. The Charles River was a little closer, but he couldn’t sense that, either. Using whatever power remained might make him feel better, but he hated to waste it and was afraid of what would happen when it was gone. He was functional right now—that had to be good enough.

  Sam took a deep breath and concentrated on the building specs on his laptop screen. “Okay, looks like six floors, ten apartments on a floor, with four layout variations.” He flipped a page. “Top floor has the luxury units, only four up there.”

  “Can you access ownership records?” Nick leaned forward and peered across the parking level. He’d backed into the space so they could keep watch and get away faster when the time came.

  “Yeah, but these names mean nothing to me.” He angled the laptop for Nick to scan the list. The protector shook his head and went back to watching for John.

  “We don’t have time to research them. Even if the abductors are rich, they might be smart enough to have rented one of the lower units. Put a layer between their names and anyone looking for them.”

  “Too bad we can’t count on them not being smart,” Nick grumped.

  “Yeah.” Sam shook his head with a humorless chuckle. “They did get us, after all. How’s your head, by the way?” Nick had insisted he was okay to drive despite the nasty headache the tranq gave him.

  “Pounding. But it’ll be fine.”

  For a fleeting second, Sam considered trying to heal Nick. At the immediate image of his hand on the back of Nick’s head, while Nick screamed and his brains scrambled, Sam stopped considering.

  “There’s John.” Nick climbed out of the car and closed his door quietly. The small thud still echoed in the dark silence, and the figure walking up the entry ramp turned, hesitated, and walked in their direction.

  Sam dumped the laptop into its case and opened his door, moving slowly and willing his body to cooperate. Every muscle had stiffened and most ached. He forced himself upright and closed the car door to join Nick and John.

  “They could be anywhere.” Nick gestured at the building connected to the garage by a stairwell/elevator combo. “We’ll have to search the whole place.”

  “How are we gonna have any clue which unit they’re in?”

  “I have an idea about that—” Nick broke off at the scrape of a shoe down the aisle. He and Sam both looked, but John didn’t turn.

  Sam understood why a moment later, as Marley walked under the closest light.

  “What’s she doing here?” he asked.

  “She wanted to help.” John gave him an implacable look. “Quinn’s her sister, and Riley’s her friend.”

  She reached John’s side and nodded a greeting. “Have you heard from them again?”

  “No.” Sam told himself that didn’t mean anything.

  “You still buzzing?” Nick asked Sam.

  Sam frowned. “Can you be more specific?” He was buzzing in four different ways.

  “From the transfer. The power thing?”

  “Some, yeah. I guess.”

  “Think you could use it like Riley does, to sense where she and Quinn are? Or the Numina people?”

  John grunted at the word but didn’t say anything.

  Sam lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. I can try. If I have any power left I can probably detect Riley.” He’d gotten a pulse of her energy at the beach, and something deeper than endorphins had surged when they made love. He could identify that energy if he sensed it again, but he didn’t know how far the range extended or how to seek it, and he doubted he could do it with anyone but her right now.

  “So what’s the plan?” John asked. “Just walk around?”

  “That’s what it’s going to have to be,” Nick said. “Once Sam identifies their location—”

  “If I can identify their location.”

  Nick didn’t even look at him. “We’ll scope it out and decide how to go in.”

  “I’ll go with Sam.” Marley said. When the men all stared at her, she leaned as if to back up, then straightened and squared her shoulders. “It would look suspicious for you three to walk the halls together. Sam and I can blend in better.”

  “You don’t have any defenses,” Nick pointed out.

  Marley flinched and didn’t respond directly. “If anyone realizes we’re wandering, we can claim we don’t know which apartment we’re looking for. A dinner party or something.”

  Sam was skeptical. “It’s almost midnight.”

  “Some people have late parties.”

  It was better than nothing, and they didn’t have time to argue. “All right, fine.”

  “Hang on.” Nick opened the Charger’s door and pulled the pistol out of the glove box. He checked it, then held it out to Sam, who held up his hands and backed away. There was no way he was steady enough to carry that safely.

  Nick swiveled to offer it to Marley. She hesitated, then shook her head. “Where am I going to hide that?”

  Nick swore and went around to the trunk. He rummaged in it a minute, then came back and gave Marley a switchblade that she slid into her front jeans pocket. He tried to hand Sam a combat knife that would probably be more dangerous to himself than anyone he came up against.

  “They haven’t used weapons yet,” Sam told him. “We’re just scoping out an apartment building right now. I’ll be fine.”

  He and Marley left a very disgruntled Nick and walked together toward the stairwell.

  “Keep us posted,” Nick called. Sam waved acknowledgment and pushed through the fire door. They went down one flight and into a long, narrow extension of the lobby that ran along the side of the building, an access hall connecting the garage and main entrance. It was very white, freshly painted with a gleaming floor.

  Sam cleared his throat as they walked toward the front of the building. So much had happened, the few days since he last talked to Marley felt like a lot longer than the year before it. What he wanted to ask her was full of awkward references and emotional minefields.

  “Did you, um, back when you still…you know…could you tell the difference between regular people and goddesses?” He braced himself, but Marley only nodded, watching her feet as she walked.

  Maybe he could actually do this. “What’s it like? To sense someone? I thought I could feel the life in the ocean, but it was like pulses. I had no idea what each pulse was.”

  “That part is different for everyone. It was almost like lights for me. Glittery, like the crystals.”

  Crystals had been her power source. Since the ocean was the dominant source for the power in Sam right now, and the other part—if there was any left—was the river, he’d guess there was something watery about identifying goddesses. But without having one nearby, he had no guide. And he was no longer close to the power source, so whatever he’d seen in Riley before, he wasn’t sure it would be there n
ow.

  He blew out a breath as they neared the end of the hall. “I have no idea how to do this.”

  “Try it on me.”

  Sam frowned at her and held up a hand as they reached the corner. He listened and heard nothing, so he leaned to check the lobby. Empty. Not even a security desk. The front door had a keycard slide to unlock it, but they hadn’t needed one from the garage.

  “Something’s off here,” he murmured.

  “What?” Marley stepped up next to him and looked around at the nondescript lobby and glass front door. “Looks normal to me.”

  Sam huffed a laugh. “Of course it does. But these guys have money. I knew the building didn’t have much security, but…”

  “How do you know they have money?”

  He looked down at her. “What do you mean?”

  “John told me about Numina, and your theory that this is a splinter group. He and Jeannine have been meeting with a few members of the leadership. It’s been slow going, since Numina haven’t revealed themselves to us in centuries, but he thinks they reached out now because of that splintering. So maybe these are the kids of those disgraced men, and they don’t have money.”

  “Maybe. Puts a new spin on the ‘luxury’ of those top-floor apartments, too.” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Marley didn’t have the abilities of a goddess anymore, but maybe she still had a signature. It was worth trying.

  He focused on each of his senses in turn. He smelled floor wax, a hint of car exhaust, and something sweet that was probably Marley’s perfume or lotion or something. He heard traffic outside, a distant horn, and in here…humming in the walls. Wiring, AC and heating equipment maybe. Metallic clanking in the nearby elevator shaft. He stretched his arm out to press a hand to the wall, and the hum vibrated into his fingers. The wall itself was smooth, glossy enough for his fingers to stick when he tried to slide them along the surface.

  Normal senses catalogued, he tried to expand his mind, to “see” something extra. The power in his body surged. He mentally caught on to it, as if grabbing a tendril of smoke, and everything suddenly heightened. He focused outward, and there she was.

  But instead of a buzz or golden light like Riley described, or even the shimmery, illusion-type thing he’d imagined, Marley was more of a smudge on his subconscious. Something dark and heavy. Not malevolent, but absent of life or purpose. Null.