Shadowlight

Before Lawson reached her, long copper pipes shot past her on either side, ramming through the windshield of the tanker and wrapping around the tires. If that were not unlikely enough, the pipes began to writhe like snakes and slither over the sides and roof of the tanker as it came to an abrupt stop.

Electricity crackled over the tanker’s cab as Lawson forced open the driver’s-side door and fell out of the truck. One of the pipes, embedded in his chest, came with him, and then wrapped around him like a boa, tightening until he threw out his arms and shrugged it off as if it were no more than paper ribbons.

Lucan got out of the car and started toward them, but stopped in his tracks as a sedan flashed past him. No one was driving it, but it was headed directly for the tanker, Lawson, and the woman.

“You have to stop running away from me, Jessa,” Lawson said as he limped toward the girl, dragging his shattered leg along. “It’s time for us to be together.”

“Not in this lifetime, pal,” Jessa said, taking a short pipe out of her jacket and holding the ends in her hands. She was jerked up into the air a moment before Lawson reached her, and flew over the fueling station just as the sedan hit the back of the tanker and burst into flames. The fire spread to the tanker, which was leaking fuel now on all sides.

White bolts of electricity flared all around Lawson, who shouted the girl’s name as he turned, watching her float down next to the diner. Copper pipes crept up and wrapped themselves around his legs, holding him in place. “Come here, you bitch.”

Lucan would never be sure what ignited the contents of the tanker—Lawson’s power or the fire spreading from the sedan—but the truck exploded into a fireball that engulfed the fueling station and most of the lot around it, and blew out the windows of the diner and every vehicle in the lot by the diner. As burning fuel and parts of the tanker rained down, several cars parked on the far end of the lot caught fire as well.

A vague form struggled in the midst of the flames, and then fell to the ground, its lower limbs encased in melting copper.

Lucan saw no sign of the mortal female who had flown in the air, or what had caused the pipes to impale and imprison Lawson. What he felt was indefinable, unfamiliar. He would have said he sensed another Kyn nearby, but they were not Kyn. They were something else—and they were already gone.

He made sure none of the mortals was injured before he climbed back into the car and returned to the roadblock. Samantha ran to him before he could stop the car, and flung herself at him.

“Is he dead?”

He held her close. “This time, I believe he is.” He saw an old pickup truck, driven by an older mortal with stooped shoulders, approaching the roadblock. His men glanced at the four dark-skinned farmhands sitting in the back and then waved them through. As the truck passed, the mortal’s companion, a kind-faced woman, caught Lucan’s gaze and did something that astonished him.

“What is it?” he heard Samantha ask.

“That mortal who just passed us,” he told her. “She winked at me.”

Epilogue

Lucan squinted as Alexandra Keller blinded him with her penlight. “That is beyond annoying.”

“So are you,” she said as she checked his other eye, “but somehow I manage not to stab you repeatedly in the heart with a copper dagger, no matter how often I am tempted.” She stepped back and showed him three fingers. “How many do you see?”

He folded his arms. “Nine.”

“Do you want me to check your retinas again?” she demanded. “I’ll get the drops this time. I swear to God.”

“Three.”

“Thank you.” She scribbled something on her notepad. “Well, suzerain, it looks like you’re going to live. I’ll break the news to the jardin gently.”

“You have an evil heart. I have always loved that about you.” Lucan pulled on his shirt and began buttoning it. “Was Michael able to learn more about the woman and her friends?”

“Not a lot,” Alex said. “But Lawson’s former employer, GenHance, was very interested in the remains we didn’t recover from the wrecked sedan. They were expecting four bodies. They even gave us names.”

“All adopted orphans, I imagine.”

She nodded. “Looks like we missed meeting some Kyndred by the skin of your corneas. But our human friends in the FBI planted some cremated ash in the wreck and falsified a few documents, and that got the biotech corporation to back off. They think we recovered four bodies, all dead, with no viable DNA. That should give Michael some time to find out exactly who the bad guys are, what they’re up to, and how much they were involved in what happened to Lawson.”

“You did survey his remains?”

She nodded. “Nothing remarkable. Human, normal DNA, extra crispy. Not a trace of pathogen or augmented genes. Whatever was in him, whatever made him so lethal, was burned out by the fire. I’ll continue studying the tissue samples from the remains of his victims. Maybe I’ll find something to explain what he was, and how he got that way.”

Samantha came into the office. “What’s the verdict?”

“I did my best,” Alex said as she closed her medical case, “but sorry; you’re still stuck with him, honey.”

“Could have been worse, I suppose. No, Lawson’s dead.” She laughed as Lucan nipped one of her fingers. “Cut it out. Alex, I can’t find anything on Jessa Bellamy. She simply doesn’t exist anymore; it’s like she’s been erased. If she and these other people involved in killing Lawson were Kyndred, they’re very good at covering their tracks. As good as we are, I think.”

“After what I saw them do,” Lucan said, “I am not convinced we should be looking for them.”

“I was Kyndred,” Alex reminded him. “So was Samantha. We—they—may have been created by the Brethren for other reasons, but they are the only beings in this world like us. And if the Darkyn are going to survive, we have to find them.”

Jonah Genaro stood outside the window to the lab as the latest acquisition was rolled in. Kirchner and two techs were busy hooking up monitors and adjusting the restraining straps, although the pitiful condition of the body in the glass coffin hardly merited either.

Beside him, Delaporte read from the crime scene report. “The remains of the four bodies in the sedan that hit the tanker were recovered. The consulting physician determined that they were too badly burned to offer any viable DNA.”

“Why was a consultant brought in?”

His security chief flipped through the forms. “A Dr. Alexandra Keller. She’s a reconstructive surgeon out of Chicago, doing a study on third-degree-burn patients. The FBI brought her in as a special consultant on the Lawson case. We barely had time to switch out Lawson’s remains before Dr. Keller arrived.”

Genaro nodded. “Riordan?”

“Still at large, but he should surface sometime in the near future. We weren’t able to recover anything from his apartment, but along with the criminal charges we’ve filed, we’ve emptied his accounts and destroyed his credit. After what he did to our men in the park, I’ve issued orders to shoot him on sight.” Delaporte gave him an uneasy look. “I hope you agree that’s the best approach to take with this one.”

“Agreed. File the reports and keep me updated.” After Delaporte left, Genaro switched on the intercom. “Have you performed the microcellular tests?”

“As soon as it was delivered from the morgue.” Kirchner’s iron gray hair badly needed a trim, as it flopped over his glasses. “Cellular regeneration has begun on a limited level, as you can see from the eyes, but there isn’t enough body mass to sustain it. If you want to keep it alive, we’ll have to augment.”

“No, that will not be necessary.” Genaro studied his greatest failure. The black, twisted form appeared to be little more than a mound of charcoal sticks with eyes, which were open and staring up at Genaro’s face. “Will it take much longer for his tissue to begin regenerating?”

“I doubt it, sir.” The geneticist checked the preservation unit’s LED display. “BP and heart rate are beginning to rise. Brain activity indicates consciousness as well. Once I’ve completed the physical and neurological exams, we can begin harvesting.”

Genaro watched as the thing in the coffin opened the hole that remained of its mouth in a soundless scream. It was evident that what remained of Bradford Lawson could not only see, but could hear as well. “Excellent. Be sure when you’ve recovered the cells to dismember the remains before you incinerate them.”

He turned his back on the window and walked away.

Rowan shut off the lights in the bare kitchen and came out into the tunnel in time to bump into Drew, who was hauling out the last of the computer equipment.

“You’re really going to take all that crap with you to California?” she asked as she followed him out. “Why not buy new stuff when you get there?”

“If you’re looking for a fugitive computer genius who just lost all his tech,” he told her, “one way to find him is to monitor specific equipment purchases.” He stepped aside so she could open the hatch to the stairs. “Plus I installed a duplicate setup over at the farm. The boss doesn’t need it anymore.”

Rowan remembered something Matthias did need, and turned around. “I’ve gotta grab something. I’ll meet you at the car.”

When Rowan caught up with Drew, she pushed a book into his hands. “Here. Put this in with your stuff.”

“I didn’t get you anything.” Drew held it up so he could read the cover in the streetlight. “Gourmet Cooking for Two. Hell, Rowan, why don’t you just go with me?”

She grinned. “You couldn’t pay me to move to California, pal. I’m heading north, back to egg creams and civilization.”

Drew tucked the book in the back of his car. “Oh, wait. I do have something for you.” He turned around and caught her in a clinch so fast Rowan had time only to take the kiss that came with it. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">