Opal

Chapter 21

My heart leaped into my throat. As I managed to lift my head, I expected to see a fleet of DOD officers converging on us.

I saw nothing.

“What are you talking about?” I asked in a hushed voice. “I don’t see—”

“Quiet.”

I bristled but remained quiet. After a few seconds, though, I was convinced he was just getting a cheap thrill or something. “If you don’t get off me, I’m going to really hurt—”

And then I saw what he was talking about. Creeping along the side of my house was a man in a black suit. Something about his appearance looked familiar, and then I remembered where I’d seen him before.

He had been with Nancy Husher the day the DOD showed up, while Daemon and I had been at the field where we’d fought Baruck.

Officer Lane.

Then I saw his Expedition parked farther down the street.

I swallowed thickly. “What is he doing here?”

“I don’t know.” Blake’s breath was warm against my cheek, and I gritted my teeth. “But he’s obviously looking for something.”

A second or so later, movement at Daemon’s house caught my eyes. The front door opened, and Daemon stepped outside. To the human eye, he vanished from the front porch and reappeared in my driveway, a few feet from Officer Lane. But he just moved so quickly that he couldn’t be tracked.

“Is there something I can help you with, Lane?” His voice carried over the distance, even and without emotion.

Surprised by his sudden appearance, Lane took a step back and pressed his hand to his chest. “Daemon, God, I hate when you do that.”

Daemon didn’t smile and whatever the Officer saw in Daemon’s eyes got him straight down to business. “I’m doing an investigation.”

“Okay.”

Lane reached into the breast pocket of his suit and pulled out a small notebook, flipping it open. His jacket got stuck on his gun holster. I wasn’t sure if it was on purpose or not. “Officer Brian Vaughn has been missing since before New Year’s. I’m checking all possible leads.”

“Crap,” I muttered.

Daemon folded his arms. “Why would I know what happened to him or care?”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“I haven’t seen him since the day you guys showed up to do your check-in and you all wanted to eat at the disgusting Chinese buffet,” Daemon responded, his voice so convincing that I almost believed him. “I still haven’t recovered from that.”

Lane gave a reluctant grin. “Yes, the food was terrible.” He scribbled something down and then slid his notebook back into his pocket. “So you haven’t seen Vaughn at all?”

“Nope,” he said.

The other man nodded. “I know you two weren’t big fans of each other. I didn’t figure he’d make any unauthorized visits, but we have to check every avenue at this point.”

“Understandable.” Daemon’s gaze landed on the trees we were hidden behind. “Why were you checking out the neighbor’s house?”

“I was checking out all the houses,” he replied. “You still friends with the girl we saw you with?”

Oh, no.

Daemon said nothing, but even from my prone position, I could see the way his eyes narrowed on the Officer.

Lane laughed. “Daemon, when are you ever going to loosen up?” He clapped him on the shoulder as he headed past him. “I don’t care who you…spend your time with. I’m just doing my job.”

Daemon followed the Officer’s movements, twisting toward him. “So, if I decided to exclusively date humans and settle down with one, you wouldn’t report me?”

“As long as I don’t see undeniable evidence, I don’t care. This is just a job with a good retirement, and I hope to make it to that point.” He started for his vehicle but stopped, facing Daemon. “There’s a difference between evidence and my gut. For example, my gut told me that your brother was in a serious relationship with the human he disappeared with, but there wasn’t any evidence.”

And of course, we knew how the DOD found out about Beth and Dawson: Will. But was this guy insinuating that he knew nothing about Dawson?

Daemon leaned against Lane’s SUV. “Did you see my brother’s body when they found him?”

A tense moment followed, and Lane lowered his chin. “I wasn’t there when they said they found his body along with the girl’s. I was only told what happened. I’m just an Officer.” He raised his head. “And I haven’t been told any differently. I’m nothing in the big scheme of things, but I’m not blind.”

I held my breath. I felt Blake do the same.

“What are you saying?” Daemon asked.

Lane smiled tightly. “I know who’s in your house, Daemon. I know that I was lied to—a lot of us have been lied to and have no idea what’s really going on. We just have jobs. We do them, and we keep our heads down.”

Daemon nodded. “And you’re keeping your head down now?”

“I was told to check on Vaughn’s possible whereabouts and that was about it.” He motioned at his car door, and Daemon stepped away from it. “I know not to address anything unless told so. I really want that retirement plan.” He climbed in, closing the car door. “You take care.”

Daemon moved back. “See you around, Lane.”

Tires wheeled and kicked up gravel as the Expedition pulled back onto the road, puffing out exhaust.

What the heck just happened? Better yet, why was Blake still on top of me?

Throwing my elbow back, it connected with his stomach and a grunt followed. “Get off me.”

He rolled to his feet, eyes sparkling. “You like to hit.”

I scrambled up, glaring. “You need to get out of here. Right now, we don’t need to deal with you.”

“Good point.” He backed off, his grin fading. “See you later tonight.”

“Whatever,” I muttered, turning back to where Daemon was walking up the driveway. I trotted out of the woods and over to his side. “Is everything okay?”

Daemon nodded. “Did you hear any of that?”

“Yeah, I was heading back when I saw him.” I figured if Daemon didn’t know about Blake being all Creepy McCreepsters before we raided Mount Weather, it was a good thing. “Do you believe him?”

“I don’t know.” He dropped his arm over my shoulders, steering me toward his house. “Lane has always been a decent guy, but this doesn’t sit well with me.”

I wrapped an arm around his waist and leaned into him. “Which part?”

“All of it—this whole scenario,” he said, sitting down on the step one from the top. He tugged me into his lap, keeping his arms around me. “The fact that the DOD—even Lane—knows damn well that Dawson’s back, and that they have to realize we know they lied. And they’re doing nothing.” He closed his eyes as I pressed my cheek to his. “And what we’re doing tonight—it can work, but it’s so insane. Part of me wonders if they already know we’re coming.”

Smoothing my thumb along his jaw, I pressed a kiss against his cheek, wishing there was something I could do. “Do you think we’re walking into a trap?”

“I think we’ve been inside the trap the entire time and we’re just waiting for it to spring closed.” He captured my dirty hand in his and held on.

A breath shuddered through me. “And we’re going to still do this?”

The determined set of his shoulders was answer enough. “You don’t have to.”

“Neither do you,” I reasoned softly. “But we both are.”

Daemon tilted his head back, eyes meeting mine. “That we are.”

We weren’t doing this because we had a death wish or that we were stupid, but because there were two lives at stake, probably more, that were worth as much as ours. Perhaps this whole endeavor was sacrificial, but if we didn’t go through with it, we’d lose Beth, Chris, and Dawson. Blake was an acceptable loss.

A tendril of panic seized my chest, though. I was scared—frightened out of my mind. Who wouldn’t be? But I’d gotten us to this point and now it was bigger than me, bigger than my fear.

Drawing in a shaky breath, I dipped my head and kissed his lips. “I think I’m going to spend some time with my mom before we leave.” My throat felt thick. “She should be awake soon.”

He kissed me back, his lips lingering. The touch was part yearning with a hint of desperation and acceptance. If things went badly tonight, there really hadn’t been enough time for us. Maybe there’d never be enough time, though.

Finally, he said in a rough, raw voice, “That’s a good idea, Kitten.”

…

When the time came to pile into Daemon’s SUV and start the drive to the Blue Ridge Mountains, the mood was strained. And for once, it really had nothing to do with Blake’s presence.

There were outbursts of laughter and curses, but everyone was on pins and needles.

Ash was getting into the passenger seat of Matthew’s vehicle. She was decked out in all black—black tights, black sneakers, and a skintight black turtleneck. She looked like a ninja. Next to her, Dee was in pink. Apparently Dee had gotten the memo about staying in the vehicle. Unless Ash planned to blend in with the seat cushions, I wasn’t sure why she was dressed that way.

Other than the fact she looked insanely hot.

On the other hand, I wore dark sweats and a black thermal that no longer fit Daemon. It must’ve been from his preteen years, because it wouldn’t even fit over his head now, and I looked like I was going to the gym.

I was a total fail next to Ash, but Daemon said something about me wearing his clothes that sent blood rushing to every part of my body and I didn’t care if I looked like a hunchback next to her.

Dawson and Blake were riding with us, the rest with Matthew. As we pulled out of the driveway, my eyes were glued to my house until it faded out of sight. The few hours I had spent with Mom had been great…really great.

The first thirty minutes of the trip wasn’t bad. Blake stayed quiet, but when he started talking, things went downhill from there. A few times I thought Daemon was going to stop the vehicle and throttle him.

I didn’t think Dawson or I would’ve stopped him.

Dawson shifted, dropping his head into his hand. “Do you ever stop talking?”

“When I’m sleeping,” Blake replied.

“And when you’re dead,” Daemon threw back. “You’ll stop talking when you’re dead.”

Blake’s lips thinned. “Point taken.”

“Good.” Daemon focused on the road. “Try shutting up for a while.”

I hid my smile as I twisted around. “What are you going to do when you see Beth?”

Awe crept across Dawson’s features, and he shook his head slowly. “Oh, man, I don’t know. Breathe—I’ll finally be able to breathe.”

Moved to tears, I gave him a watery smile. “I’m sure she’ll feel the same way.” At least, I hoped so. The last time I had seen Beth, she wasn’t all there in the head. But if I knew anything about Dawson, I knew he could handle it, because he loved her—he had my mom and dad’s kind of love.

Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Daemon’s lips tip up at the corners. Something deep in my chest fluttered.

Sucking in a soft breath, I focused on Blake. The side of his head was against the window as he stared out into the dark night. “What about you?”

His gaze slid to mine. For several seconds, he didn’t answer. “We’ll leave here and head west. And the first thing we’re going to do is go surfing. He really used to dig the sea.”

I turned around, staring at my hands. Sometimes it was hard to hate without feeling sorry. And I did feel sorry for his friend. I even felt sorry for Blake. “That’s…that’s good.”

None of us spoke after that, and at first, the mood was somber and heavy with memories and probably a thousand what ifs and a dozen scenarios of what tonight would be like for Dawson and Blake, but as we passed Winchester and crossed over the river and could see the darker shades of the Blue Ridge up ahead, the mood shifted.

The boys were tense, throwing off testosterone in buckets. Antsy and ready to just do this, I glanced at the time. Twenty till nine.

“How much longer?” Dawson asked.

“We’ve got time.”

The SUV slipped into a lower gear as we started up the mountain. Behind us, Matthew followed closely. He knew the directions. The access road was supposedly about a half a mile before the main entrance. Daemon had typed it into his GPS, but it pretty much spewed the request back out.

A cell phone dinged and Blake pulled out his cell. “It’s from Luc. He wants to make sure we’re on schedule.”

“We are,” Daemon answered.

His brother popped between the front seats. “Are we sure?”

Daemon rolled his eyes. “Yes. I’m sure.”

“Just checking,” Dawson grumbled, sitting back.

Now Blake was between the seats. “All right, Luc’s ready to do this. He wanted to remind us we’ve only got fifteen minutes. Anything goes wrong, we get out and try again later.”

“I don’t want to try again later,” Dawson protested. “Once we get in, we’ve got to keep going.”

Blake frowned. “I want to get them out just as badly as you, man, but we have a limited gap of time. That’s all.”

“We stick to the plan.” Daemon’s gaze met his brother’s in the window. “That’s it, Dawson. I’m not losing you again.”

“Nothing’s going to go wrong, anyway,” I interjected before it turned into a royal rumble in the car. “Everything will go as planned.”

I focused on the road. The highway was four lanes and heavy trees crowded the roads on the south and north lanes. It was a blur of shadows. I had no idea how Daemon would find this road, but he started to slow down and merged into the left lane.

Pressure settled on my chest as he turned onto a barely visible road. There were no markings—nothing signaling that there was even a road there. Two headlights followed us up the narrow opening that was more dirt and gravel than pavement. About two hundred feet in, under the pale moonlight, an old farmhouse sat to the right. Half the roof was missing. Weeds choked the front and sides.

“Creepy,” I murmured. “I bet your ghost guys would say this place is haunted.”

Daemon chuckled. “They say every place is haunted. That’s why I love them.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Dawson said as we parked and Matthew pulled in beside us.

Both cars killed the lights and engines and with no other source of light, it was black as oil. My stomach pitched. Five till nine. There was no backing out now.

Blake’s cell went off again. “He’s just making sure we’re ready.”

“God, he’s an annoying little kid,” Daemon muttered, facing where Matthew parked. “We’re getting ready to do this. Andrew?”

He slipped out, murmuring something to Dee and his sister. Then he turned, throwing up what I’d swear were gang signals. “I’m ready steady.”

“Geez,” Blake muttered.

“We stick to the plan. At no time do any of us”—Daemon directed this at his brother—“deviate from the plan. All of us are coming back tonight.”

There were murmurs of agreement. With my pulse racing into cardiac arrest territory, I opened the door.

Daemon placed his hand on my arm. “Stick close to me.”

My vocal chords seemed to have stopped working, so I nodded. Then the four of us were out of the car, breathing in the chilled mountain air. Everything was dark—with slices of moonlight cutting across the access road. I was probably standing next to a bear and had no idea.

I moved around the front of the vehicle and stood next to Daemon. Another moved beside me and I realized it was Blake.

“Time,” Daemon said.

There was a quick flash of cell phone light, and Blake said, “One minute.”

I drew in a shallow gasp, but it got stuck. I could feel my heartbeat in every part of my body. Out of the darkness, Daemon found my hand and squeezed.

We can do this, I told myself. We can do this. We will do this.

“Thirty seconds,” Blake said.

I worked on my mantra, because I remembered reading something about the laws of the universe and believing in something will make it happen. God, I hoped they were right.

“Ten seconds.”

Daemon gave one more squeeze, and I realized he wasn’t going to let go. I would slow him down, but there was no time to protest it. A shudder rolled through my arms. I felt the Source rattle and wake up. My weight shifted back and forth.

Beside me, Blake bent forward. “Three, two, go!”

I kicked off, letting the Source rush through, expanding each cell with light. None of the guys were glowing, but we all were running, practically flying. My sneakers skidded over the road. Up we climbed, sticking to the side of the road, avoiding the streams of light. In the back of my head, I realized that keeping up with them had never been the issue.

It was seeing where to go.

But Daemon’s hand remained in mine and he wasn’t pulling me, more like guiding me through the night, around potholes the size of craters, and up the twisting mountain road.

Seventy-five seconds later, because I counted, a twenty-foot-tall fence came into view under spotlights. We slowed down, coming to a complete stop behind the last stand of trees.

I dragged in air, eyes wide. Red and white signs marked the fence as being electrical. Beyond them was a football-field length of open space and then a massive structure.

“Time?” Daemon asked.

“One minute after nine.” Blake ran a hand through his spiky hair. “Okay, I got one guard at the gate. Do you see any others?”

We waited for about another minute to see if any were patrolling, but as Luc had said, it was shift change. Only the gate was covered. We couldn’t wait any longer.

“Give me a second,” Andrew said, slipping away from the trees, creeping toward the guard dressed in black.

I was just about to ask what the hell he was doing when I saw him dip and place his hand on the ground. Blue sparks flew and the guard started to twist toward him, but the surge of electricity reached him.

A violent tremor ran up the man’s body, and he dropped the gun. A second later, he was lying beside it. The boys headed forward and I followed, sneaking a glance at the guard. His chest moved and fell, but he was out cold.

“He doesn’t know what hit him.” Andrew grinned as he blew a breath over his fingers. “He’ll be out for about twenty or so minutes.”

“Nice,” Dawson said. “I’d have fried his brain if I tried that.”

My eyes widened.

Daemon was on the move, approaching the gate. The white keypad looked unassuming, but it was the first test. We could only hope Luc took the cameras down and had given us the right codes.

“Icarus,” Blake said quietly.

Nodding, Daemon’s shoulders tensed as he quickly typed in the code. There was a mechanical clicking, a low hum followed, and then the gate shuddered. It swung open, beckoning us like a rolled-out red carpet.

Daemon motioned us forward. We sped across the field, taking a couple of heartbeats to reach the doors Luc and Blake had confirmed. I came up behind Daemon as they searched the wall.

“Where’s the damn keypad?” Dawson demanded, pacing between the doors.

I stepped back and forced my gaze to move left to right slowly. “There.” I pointed toward the right. The pad was small, stuck back behind the overlay.

Andrew jogged to it, glancing over his shoulder. “Ready?”

Dawson glanced down at me and then at the middle door in front of us. “Yes.”

“Labyrinth,” Daemon murmured from behind us. “And please, God, spell it correctly.”

Andrew snickered and keyed in the code. I wanted to squeeze my eyes shut just in case we ended up with a dozen guns leveled at our faces. The door before us slid open, revealing the space beyond inch by inch.

No guns. No people.

I let out the breath I was holding.

Beyond the door was a wide orange tunnel and at the end were the elevators. Not even a hundred feet and all we had to do was get to those elevators and go down six floors. Blake knew the cells.

We were seriously going to do this.

The door was wide enough for two people to move through at once, but Dawson stepped forward first. Understandable, considering what he had to gain by night’s end. I followed behind. As he moved under the doorframe, there was a sound of air releasing, a small puffing noise.

Dawson dropped like he’d been shot, but there’d been no blast. One second he was standing in the doorway and the next he was on the other side, withering on the floor, his mouth opened in a silent scream.

“No one moves,” Andrew ordered.

Time stopped. The hair on the back of my neck rose. I looked up. A row of tiny nozzles, barely even noticeable, faced down. Too late, I realized in horror. The puffing sound came again.

Red-hot pain seared through my skin, as if a thousand tiny knives were slicing me apart from the inside, attacking every cell. Every part of my body erupted as I dragged in a scorching breath. My legs crumbled and I went down, unable to even ease the fall. My cheek smacked off the concrete, that flash of pain nothing compared to the fire ravaging my body.

Brain cells were scrambled and twisted. Muscles locked up in panic and pain. My eyelids were peeled open. Lungs tried to expand, to drag in air, but there was something wrong with the air—it scalded my mouth and throat. Somewhere, in the distant part of me that could still function, I knew what this was.

Onyx—airborne, weaponized onyx.