Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Twenty-nine

Gideon put his hand on the injured man’s shoulder. Amelia felt energy shiver in the atmosphere.

“How many?” Gideon asked.

The man rallied as if drawing strength from Gideon’s powerful aura. Or maybe he simply realized there was some hope after all, Amelia thought.

“Three, I think,” he mumbled. “Maybe four. They wanted information before they finished me but one of ’em said he could see the lights of your car. That’s when they took off.”

The effort to speak exhausted him. His eyes closed and his head lolled to one side.

Gideon picked up the informant’s gun, checked it with a crisp, efficient motion that made it clear he knew how to use it, and then grabbed his cane and levered himself to his feet.

He handed the weapon to Amelia. “If you have to pull the trigger, do it. Don’t hesitate.”

“You should take it,” she insisted, fumbling with her phone’s flashlight. “I’ve got a Taser.”

“Don’t hesitate,” he repeated evenly. “Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she whispered. She was way out of her depth now. A Taser was one thing. A gun was something else altogether.

Gideon went to the doorway and turned back briefly to look at her. In the darkness his eyes burned with a silvery energy. Probably just her imagination, she thought. Or maybe a trick of the light.

“Stay here,” he said. “Do not come out until I tell you. Shoot anyone who comes through that doorway who isn’t me. Clear?”

She tried to swallow and discovered she could not. Her mouth was too dry. “Clear,” she croaked.

“Turn off the light.”

She obeyed. He switched off his penlight at the same time. The room was abruptly suffused in the ghostly light of the moon streaming through the empty window. Her senses, already operating in the red zone, shot up another level. The ankle-deep miasma of energy in the space glowed with an eerie radiance. Focus , she thought. Control. She could do this. She had to do this. There was no alternative.

Gideon vanished into the night-drenched hallway. Outside, the heavy vehicle slammed to a stop. Car doors opened. There was a lot of commotion at the lobby entrance and then voices.

“Freeze,” a man shouted. “DEA. Come out with your hands on your head.”

When he got no response, he tried again.

“I repeat. We are DEA. You are under arrest. Come out with your hands on your head and you will not be hurt.”

“Sweetwater and the woman probably took off down one of the hallways when they heard us,” a second man said. “They could be hiding in any of the rooms in one of the wings.”

“All right,” the one in charge said. “Kirby, clear the hallway on the left. Sage, you’ve got the other wing. Deacon, go back outside. If they get out of here they’ll run for the vehicle. Assume Sweetwater is armed. Take him down on sight. Remember, we need the woman alive.”

Heavy boots thundered on the old tile floor. Amelia’s pulse beat wildly. She wondered if she was about to go into a panic attack. Then she wondered if the fear of having a panic attack would bring one on. Focus, woman .

“Kirby,” the boss snapped, “what are you waiting for? I said clear that hallway. Sage, get moving. If we lose her again there won’t be any more boosters for either of you.”

The screaming started then. Horrified yells that could have frozen blood reverberated down the hallway. Amelia shuddered. In that moment it would not have been difficult to believe that the gates to hell had just opened out in the lobby.

The screams stopped abruptly and somehow that was more shocking than the panic-stricken shrieks had been. She heard a heavy thud and knew that someone had fallen hard on the cracked tiles.

“Kirby’s down,” Sage yelled. “What happened? What’s going on?”

“Forget Kirby,” the boss shouted. “Get Sweetwater.”

“Fuck, he could be in any of those rooms.” Sage raised his voice. “Deacon, where are you? Cover me.”

Deafening shots roared in the hallway.

Amelia heard footsteps pounding outside the room where she and the injured man were hiding. Through the partially open door she glimpsed the hot, unstable aura of one of the attackers. That had to be Deacon, she thought. He had entered the east wing from one of the rooms farther down the hall. He was heading toward the lobby.

Gideon was occupied with the boss and Sage. He would not be aware of the man rushing up on him from behind until it was too late.

Gun clutched in both hands, she lurched through the doorway, out into the darkened hall. The attacker was a few steps ahead, moving fast. She raised the gun and then realized Deacon was between Gideon and herself. She was no marksman. If she tried for a shot she could easily hit Gideon by accident.

“Gideon,” she shouted, “behind you.”

She fired into the ceiling, hoping to distract Deacon. The thunder of the weapon deafened her but it got the attacker’s attention. He spun around. Moonlight gleamed on the pistol in his hand.

She had time to realize she was going to die before Gideon loomed in the shadows. His eyes blazed molten silver.

The tsunami of glacial energy struck before she had time to process what was happening. She fell headlong into the hallucinatory world of a nightmare.

The shards of the dream hurtled toward her with the force of a hurricane.

She walks into the shadowed lobby. Pallas and Talia follow her. There are three men waiting inside. She can’t see their faces. One of them is standing back, observing. She gets the impression he’s in charge.

The other two approach. They are smiling but she can sense the energy around them and she knows something is terribly wrong. They move forward as if to shake hands. That is when she sees the syringes.

She screams, trying to warn Pallas and Talia, but it is too late. They are screaming, too. The men plunge the needles into them. She turns to run but the one who greeted them when they arrived wraps his arm around her throat, choking her, as he stabs the syringe into her upper shoulder.

She sinks into the darkness but the nightmare does not end…

She is aware of being lifted onto a gurney. A man in a surgical mask and gown appears…