Line Of Sight Part 15

Heavy footsteps on the stairs. Stefan hadn't taken five minutes, he'd taken only two, and there were still drops of water caught in his curling hair. He was b.u.t.toning up a clean s.h.i.+rt of dark blue silk. He'd changed to a fresh pair of jeans, too.

Katie felt obscenely grubby, suddenly.

"More in common than you think," Stefan said, as calmly as if he caught his dad talking about his relations.h.i.+ps every day-which maybe he did. Katie had no idea how normal families dealt with this stuff. Hers had never been a model to follow. "Katie's a precog."

"No!" Ben's eyes widened. "You're kidding."

"I hope he is," she said. "What's a precog?"

"Precognitive," Ben said before Stefan could get the word out. Stefan, behind his back, looked exasperated, and continued b.u.t.toning his s.h.i.+rt. "Means you sense or see things before they happen. Stefan's always been more an empath than anything else. His mother's precognitive, though."

He said it as if it were factual, as straightforward as saying that Stefan's mother had brown eyes or jogged every morning. Okay, Katie thought, here's where things get strange. And then she had to mentally shake herself. You're on the trail of two supernaturally gifted girls abducted by drug dealers, tracking them with the help of a gypsy psychic. And this is where things get strange?

"Dad, great, but we really have to get going now," Stefan said and moved around to face him. "Thanks for the car."

"Hey, that's between you and your brother. It's a good thing he's halfway around the world, or he'd be coming after you to make you sign some kind of waiver. In blood."

"Say goodbye, Dad."

"Goodbye, Katie. I have a good feeling about you," Ben said. The hedgehog in his hands yawned, displaying a perfect pink tongue, and sneezed again. "Come back soon, will you?"

Stefan kissed him on the cheek. "Yeah, thanks for saying that to me, Dad."

"You come back whatever I say," Ben said. There was so much love in his eyes when he looked at his son that it almost brought tears to Katie's eyes. "Stefan."

"Yes?" He fussed with the cuffs of his s.h.i.+rt, not looking up.

"Come back soon. And come back safe."

Stefan looked up into his eyes, and there it was, that same glow of affection, devotion, connection. Katie realized that she'd never felt that, not really. Not since her mother's disappearance. She had to swallow a lump in her throat.

Without a change in that adoring expression, Stefan asked, "Can I borrow five hundred dollars?"

The elder Blackman's eyes went wider. "Excuse me?"

"The girl outside in the car. I owe her some money. Services rendered."

"What did she do for you for five hundred? No, don't answer that, I'd only have to tell your mother about it later, and I'd rather have plausible denial." Ben seemed to have second thoughts. "Wait...If it was worth five hundred, maybe you should invite her in..."

"Dad! She gave us a ride, I promised her some cash. Please? I'll get some out of my bank later and drop it by."

Ben sighed and handed Katie the hedgehog. She took it, too startled to do anything else, and was fascinated by the warmth of it, the way it turned to look at her, then settled down into the cup of her hands. Cute, she thought. And then she thought, I haven't got time for cute. But it was too late to protest because Ben was already crossing the room, swinging aside a painting on the wall and keying in numbers on a safe. He extracted a bundle of bills, removed some and closed it up.

"Dad must like you," Stefan commented in an undertone. "He never lets anybody hold Pasha."

His father handed him the money and retrieved the hedgehog. "Actually, I never let anybody see me open the safe," he said. "Pasha loves everyone. But you looked like you could use a little animal relaxation therapy. Even a few seconds' worth."

"Animal relaxation..."

"Dad's specialty," Stefan said, counting the bills. "Well, he does vet work, mostly, and he trains animals, too, kind of got a Dog Whisperer thing going-"

"I do not! What I do is completely different!"

"Whatever, Dad. He has a program where he takes animals in for sick kids, seniors, even into prisons. Animal relaxation therapy."

"It helps," Ben said simply. "Maybe sometime you can go with me, see the effect it has on people. It's pretty dramatic."

"Dad, we really have to-"

"Go." Ben nodded. "Yes. I know. I'll tell your mother you said h.e.l.lo. She's out with one of her clients."

"Which one?"

"The blond one."

Stefan grinned and stage-whispered, "We're top secret around here about clients. But her initials are Cameron Diaz."

"Wrong," his dad called from behind them.

"Or maybe Uma Thurman." Stefan guided Katie out the door. She looked back, once, to see Ben Blackman still standing there, the hedgehog nestled contentedly in his hands, watching them go with a frown of concern on his face.

"I'll watch out for him," she promised.

And he nodded. "I believe you will, Katie."

Stefan shut the door behind them, jogged down the steps and leaned in to hand Marine the money. A conversation ensued, which Katie watched closely, and then Marine backed up her Volkswagen and drove off with a cheery wave. The iron gates swung open for her, then closed.

Stefan came back up and took Katie's hand, then kissed her. It was a gentle, sweet kiss, and she leaned into him to savor it, just for a second.

"What was that for?" she asked. Stefan smiled.

"For not laughing at my crazy family," he said. "Come on. Jag's in the garage. And because of my current vision disability, you get the pleasure of driving."

Once the family hacienda gates had closed behind them, Katie felt the pressure close in again. The Jaguar was clean, and looked fast. She knew little about cars, but she knew what she liked, and she liked this one. It was forest-green, very sleek, with a finish like gla.s.s. The interior wasn't roomy, but it was comfortable.

"Your brother likes cars," she said. There had been quite a selection under tarps in the garage, which was actually more of a converted stable, or part of one.... The other half had still housed horses. She s.h.i.+fted gears, and the Jaguar leaped forward with a low growl, pressing her back in her seat.

"No, my brother is insane over cars," Stefan corrected. "Those are just the ones he couldn't stand to part with. He sold off about twenty, I think. Gave the money to charity a couple of years ago. This one's his favorite-a 1968 XJ6."

"Is that good?"

"Very good." He watched as she s.h.i.+fted gears again, and the engine practically purred. "Very fast. And Dad's right, we'd better not scratch it or it's my a.s.s."

He didn't seem that worried, though.... Not worried enough to ask her to slow down. The Jaguar continued to pick up speed, rocketing down the deserted street until they reached an intersection. Katie sent him an inquiring look.

"West," he said.

"You're sure?"

"Sure enough."

The Jaguar's speed didn't serve them particularly well, given the traffic, but its maneuverability did, and they made very good time darting in and out of traffic. Katie's Indy-style driving earned them more than a few honks and finger-flips, but she didn't take it personally. When Stefan's cell phone rang and he took it out, she said, "That may be for me."

"For you?" He checked the number and shrugged. "No ID."

"That's for me."

Katie thumbed the phone on and identified herself. As she'd expected, the person on the other end was Allison Gracelyn. "I've got the van," she said. "Real-time tracking."

"Where?"

"They stopped off at a warehouse, but I didn't spot any girls being unloaded, just a couple of guys getting out, going inside, then coming back. They're on South Hill Street, at the intersection with East Third. I'll give you turn-by-turn for as long as I can."

"As long as you can?"

"I've got exactly twenty minutes before the station-keeping cycle cuts the signal for your part of the world. I can't retask it, not without serious questions, and besides, I'm piggybacking on top of another investigation that's very important. So we're going to have to do the best we can. Do you have any backup plan?"

Katie glanced at Stefan. "Yes."

"Keep it warmed up. Okay, they're turning...East Fourth, heading northwest."

"I'm handing you off to Stefan," Katie said and gave him the phone. "Relay what she says. And tell me how to get to East Fourth Street."

"Forget the side streets. You said northwest, right? Take the 101."

He talked her through to the freeway, a gigantic behemoth of concrete that s.h.i.+mmered with cars. Katie tried not to think about how many traffic laws she was breaking as she dodged through the traffic, speeding by on the shoulder and breakdown lanes whenever possible. Stefan clung to the door handle and looked several times as though he was going to say something-probably "Slow down!"-but then he kept his silence, listening to whatever Allison was saying on the phone.

"They're on 110," he said. "Heading south. Take the turnoff, it should be about five more miles ahead."

Five miles took too long; traffic jammed to a stop, and all Katie's maneuvering couldn't levitate the Jaguar over the blockage. The Angelinos around her seemed accustomed to it; they yawned, drank coffee, read newspapers, brushed their hair.... She was ready to scream. She grabbed the phone from Stefan. "Allison, did you give it to the task force?"

"Already done," Allison said. "They should have air support heading out there, too. Don't break your neck, Katie. They're on top of it."

But there was something wrong; Katie could simply feel it. It wasn't just the frustration of being away from the takedown, although that was undoubtedly eating a hole in her stomach; this had to do with other things. Things that she couldn't define or explain.

Something was wrong.

"Chopper's in the air," Allison said. "They're arranging for a roadblock, but they want to let the van get off the freeway first before they close in. Too many variables on a crowded freeway."

"Allison-"

"I have to put you on hold, Katie." Dead air. She growled in frustration and pitched the phone back to Stefan, who fielded it neatly.

"What?"

"That van. It doesn't feel right."

"What doesn't?"

"I don't know." Katie shook her head impatiently. "I hate to ask, but...is it possible you could...?"

"Plug in?" Stefan finished, so quietly she could barely hear the words. "I can try."

She heard the resolve in it, and the dread he couldn't quite conceal. She reached over and grabbed his left hand with her right and squeezed it tightly.

"I need you to get to her, but stay with me. Don't let her drag you all the way, okay? I need you to relay to me what's happening, minute by minute. You can do that, right?"

"I don't know."

"Please try."

He nodded, then took in a couple of deep breaths, leaned his head back against the seat, and closed his eyes. For a few seconds he looked tense with concentration, and then she felt a tremor go through him.

His hand went slack in hers.

"Stefan?" No answer. He was gone. But that was what she didn't want.... She had no idea how long he'd be gone, and even though he might come back with information, that was of no help to her in real time. She squeezed his hand again, sharply. "Stefan! I need you to talk to me! Talk to me!"

He groaned, a deep and primal sound of pain that s.h.i.+vered her skin into goose b.u.mps. She couldn't stop; there wasn't any place to pull over, and she had no idea if they'd be able to gain ground again if she gave it up now. She had to concentrate on driving, too. What she was doing, weaving in and out of traffic like this, was horrifyingly risky, even though she was trained for it. Any lapse in her concentration could put them in an accident, cost innocent lives.

"Stefan!" She almost screamed his name, and squeezed so hard that she felt daggers of pain stab through her own fingers. "Stefan, you talk to me! Now!"

"Not in the van," he whispered. He sounded so faint, so far away, but he was talking. She caught her breath, and it felt like a sob. "They're not in the van. Switched somehow. Don't know how."

When the van had stopped, probably. The b.a.s.t.a.r.ds had concealed what they were doing from the satellites. They'd known, or at least, they'd suspected that someone might be watching. "Stefan, tell me where they are! Tell me what you see!"

Long silence this time, but she could tell he wasn't gone, not all the way gone. He was fighting to stay with her, and it physically hurt him.... She felt the tremors going through his body. Teal's gift was strong, maybe too strong; she had no experience in controlling it, and Stefan was trying to hold her off.

I'm asking too much. Too much. But she couldn't ask any less, not and live with herself.

"Truck. Some kind of truck. Two small windows in the back."

"A delivery truck?"

"Can't see. It's dark." She risked a glance. Stefan's eyes were still closed, but there were tears leaking from beneath the lids, and he struggled for breath. And words. "She's on her knees, handcuffed. Lena's-Lena's facedown on the floor. They have a gun pointed at Lena's head. I think-they're threatening to kill her. Making Teal do what they want. She's angry, Katie, she's so angry...."

"Focus on what she's seeing. Anything, anything!"

Stefan shook his head, a violent convulsion more than a controlled motion, and then opened his mouth and gasped. His back arched in agony.

"Oh G.o.d-Stefan! Stefan, talk to me!" She kept saying his name because some part of her knew it helped, it helped him remember who he was, where he was. "What's happening?"

"Fighting. Fighting them." His eyes flew open, and they looked strange, so strange that for a moment she couldn't figure out why. Then it hit her with chilling force.... His pupils were widely dilated, as if he was in a pitch-black environment, but he was in full sunlight in the car. Teal was in the dark.

His body was mimicking whatever was happening to her. This was what Stefan had been afraid of, she realized; feeling so intensely, being hurt and being helpless to prevent it.

"What's going on? Stefan!"

His pupils suddenly contracted, and he screamed. It shocked her so badly that she let go of him, grabbed the wheel, jammed the clutch and brake and slewed the Jaguar to a gravel-spewing stop in the breakdown lane. She jammed it into Park, unbuckled her seat belt and grabbed his shoulders to hold him down as he thrashed. He was completely out of control, and he was stronger than she'd expected. She managed to lean her weight on him to keep him from hurting himself too badly, and then suddenly he collapsed into the seat, breathlessly making a sound that was halfway between a whimper and a moan.