Dirk And Steele: The Wild Road Part 18

"Huh." She leaned against the door, watching his human profile, which was craggy, weathered, and effortlessly masculine. Same as his touch, which still made her s.h.i.+ver. Jesus. She could not imagine what he looked like beneath the mask, and wondered if she would feel the same way if he ended up having horns sticking out of his head, scaly skin, or teeth like a piranha.

"Has any of your kind ever been caught?" she asked him.

Lannes gave her a sidelong look that was distinctly uncomfortable. "Occasionally. In the late eighteen hundreds, some cowboys in Arizona managed to kill one of us. Staked him to the side of a barn and took pictures, for money. He had family, though. Some human friends. They managed to get his body away, and the photographs."

"I'm sorry," she said. "Have your...people been around for a long time?"

"A long time," he replied. "We were warriors once, and there was a battle between the creatures of this world. It resulted in a great cataclysm, and afterward we scattered and never fought again."

"But you hide. All of you."

"Some. Others have jobs, and families. We pay taxes. Most of our work can be done from home. Bookbinding, writing, artisan-type skills." Lannes waved his very human-looking hand at her. "We hide in plain sight. And for those of us who can't wear a mask, human deformity can explain the rest. It's the twenty-first century. As long as you can pa.s.s, most people won't say a word. And if they do, it won't be to call you monster. Just ugly as h.e.l.l."

She hesitated. "Is it lonely?"

"Sometimes," he admitted, and smiled. "Not now."

Lethe bit her bottom lip, trying not to return his smile, but it was impossible. Something about the warmth in his eyes, the kindness, made him irresistible.

Or maybe she was just desperately lonely. So lonely that anything-anyone-looked good.

That's a disservice to Lannes, she told herself. He's better than that. So are you.

Maybe. Or maybe it was better not to think too much about these things. She had a lifetime of memories to make. No doubt some of them-quite a few, at this rate- were going to be unpleasant.

Take the good while you can. Even if it turns out to be a mistake.

She was going to have a lot of those in her life, mistakes. Chances were good she had lost her mind over one.

"You travel much?" she asked Lannes, trying to make conversation-a distraction from her thoughts.

He shrugged. "Not anymore. But Frederick needed me for something."

She thought of the old man, so elegant and proper, and felt an odd affection that took her off guard. "How did you meet?"

"Our fathers knew each other. How they met..." Lannes hesitated. "It happened during the first World War. My father was in Germany helping to relocate some of our kind who had become trapped near the fighting. He came upon a child who seemed to have been abandoned. My father took care of him. Found a family in Scotland who was willing to take the boy. Alex Brimley. Frederick's father."

"Was Alex aware of your father's...differences?"

"He was when I knew him," Lannes replied. "No one ever explained how that happened. My brothers and I always took it for granted that we never had to hide from Alex or Frederick. Their wives were another matter."

He stifled a yawn, and Lethe said, "You really do need to rest."

"We're almost there," he replied grimly. "I'll rest then."

"If you get a chance."

He shot her a look that was so very human, she wanted to reach out and touch his face to see if his mouth moved the same way beneath the illusion.

Lannes said, "I'm more worried about you."

I'll be fine, she almost said, but that would have been slightly ridiculous. She was not fine. But she was still standing. Still ready to fight. That was something.

She glanced over her shoulder at the Humvee. It was trailing them. Neither vehicle had stopped in the two hours since leaving the accident outside Martinsville. And thankfully, no cops had seen fit to haul either aside for questioning. She figured someone would, eventually. These were distinctive cars, and there had been a lot of witnesses.

It's not personal. You're just a tool.

Lethe closed her eyes, remembering those words, tasting them. Anger stirred. She felt Lannes glance at her-felt it even though she was not looking at him-and his concern flooded through her unbidden, warm and enveloping. Safe. Protected. Being around him felt the same as standing on a cliff edge but knowing she could fly.

He can fly, she guessed, trying to imagine such a thing. Not easy to do. There was still so much about him that he had hidden.

Except his heart. His conflicted, lonely heart. Mirror twin to her own.

At the intersection just before town, they pa.s.sed a small used car dealer. It was little more than a white square with some vehicles parked out front. Lannes turned left onto a road that curved past a lush tree line now burning with autumn. On the other side, to the right of the road, the land unexpectedly opened, revealing an immense green meadow covered with yet more trees. And just beyond that, surrounded by evergreens...

"Wow," said Lethe, staring. "I was totally not expecting that."

"That" being an immense dome. It was rather astonis.h.i.+ng in size, with a red top that almost glowed in the morning light and four white turrets arranged in a half-moon design around the structure. Yellow walls and brick formed the base, which was mostly obscured by trees. It could have been a castle rising from the hills: an improbable sight, which should have been gaudy or bizarre, but instead was oddly enchanting.

"There's the entrance," she said, pointing to an arched gate on the right. Lannes pulled past, driving down a long cobblestone road. Workers were already out gardening, and some of them waved as Lannes drove past. The Humvee hugged the Impala's b.u.mper.

Up close, the hotel was even more astonis.h.i.+ng. Giant white columns framed an immense curving promenade lined in rocking chairs and the hanging boughs of old evergreens. The b.u.t.ter yellow of the bricks and walls glowed in the half shadows and sunlight of morning. On the left of the cobblestone drive was a wild garden filled with fountains and pavilions and paths that meandered into the trees, while in front of them, in the circle of the drive, was another stone fountain surrounded by flowers. Copper posts capped with the carved heads of horses lined a narrow walkway.

They parked on the far side of the hotel. The Humvee pulled in beside them. It was Etta's car, Lethe was certain of it. She sat still, suffering a moment's trepidation at having to face new strangers.

"I know how you feel," Lannes said.

She stared at him, startled. "Did you hear my thoughts that time?"

"No." He looked uncomfortable. "Just your emotions."

Knuckles rapped against her window and she flinched. A man stood on the other side of the door, dressed in a tight black s.h.i.+rt and black cargo pants. His skin was smooth and brown, and his green eyes were sharp with intelligence, much like the rest of his face, which resembled stone more than flesh.

A dangerous man, she thought, and opened her door, forcing him to step back-which he did, grudgingly. No shoes on his feet. She had noticed that last night, as well.

Behind him, leaning against the Humvee, was the tattooed man. Golden eyes glimmered, the sight of which stirred something deep inside her.

Koni, she remembered him being called. He stared at her with unnerving intensity, his mouth turned down in a frown.

"What?" she asked sharply. Her feet hurt, but her shoulder was better.

His golden eyes narrowed. "Nothing."

Lannes walked around the Impala to stand beside her. His craggy face looked grim, as did his eyes, and his invisible wings brushed against her arm like the whisper of a breeze. The belt he had bound them with was probably still in the parking lot of the Wal-Mart in Martinsville.

"Nice illusion," said the man in black, who then settled his gaze on Lethe. "You have a talent for making people dead."

"It's been a busy couple days," she replied coldly.

Lannes leaned forward, looming over the other man. "Are you here to help, or are we going to have a problem?"

"Rictor always has problems," said Koni, still leaning against the Humvee. "And I'm not much better. You're stuck with the a.s.sholes of the group, I'm afraid."

Lannes appeared less than pleased. "I suppose my brother filled you in?"

"Second-hand knowledge is s.h.i.+t," said the green-eyed man. Rictor, Lethe reminded herself. She found him familiar, and could not put her finger on why, which was maddening.

Rictor added, "We need to talk. Just us."

Just us. Lethe was obviously not included, a certainty that intensified when she glanced at Koni and found him staring at her dead on. Golden eyes. Suspicious eyes.

Trust, she thought. It always came down to trust. She had not trusted Lannes when she first met him, and now it was her turn to be on the receiving end of someone's suspicion.

Lannes brushed up against her arm, creating a link between them. They have secrets to keep, he whispered inside her mind. All of us do.

And I can rely on them? Lethe replied, falling easily into their mental connection. It had not surprised her as much as it should have; it was as though this was something she knew, like those random aberrant facts crowded in her brain. Do you trust them?

He never answered. Above their heads, a murder of crows swooped down from the trees, cawing raucously. Koni gave them a sharp look, and his eyes seemed to glow for the barest instant. Or maybe that was the sun, his irises catching that light. It sent s.h.i.+vers down her back, either way.

Lethe limped around the men and started strolling across the parking lot to the hotel entrance. A moment later, she heard three sets of footsteps behind her.

"Never mind following me," she called back, "since you obviously have things to discuss."

"Don't be ridiculous," Lannes muttered, easily catching up with her. She turned, hobbling backward to study Rictor and Koni openly.

"So," she said slowly, "you're...detectives."

"I suppose," Koni replied. "Though you could try not to say it like you're vomiting in your mouth."

"Why not?" Rictor muttered, glancing at the tree line with disgust. "This is humiliating."

Lannes and Lethe stopped walking. Koni gave the green-eyed man a dirty look, but the crows flying overhead began screaming again, and a similar expression of resigned dread pa.s.sed over his tanned face. Lethe thought that the two men were very weird.

"Have you heard anything from Charlie about Etta Bredow and her brother?" Lannes asked them. "How about this Simon?"

"Nothing," Rictor said, still staring at the trees.

Lethe frowned. "Are you an investigator or not?"

"Rictor is what he is," Koni replied, giving his companion another hard look. "I suppose that's true of all of us."

There was something in his tone, something in the way he suddenly looked at her, that made Lethe narrow her eyes. "Why do I get the sense that you know me?"

"I don't know," Koni said. "That would be impossible, wouldn't it?"

"I don't know," she replied, "seeing as how I can't remember a G.o.dd.a.m.n thing."

"Enough," Lannes rumbled, his gaze roving between the two men his brother had sent. "We're here to check things out. Let's stick with that plan."

Stick with a plan. Easier said than done. Especially as Lethe had no idea what she was looking for. She forced herself to take a deep breath, and the air smelled good and green, the cold wind on her face so sweet she wanted to close her eyes. It was good to be alive.

She noted Koni b.u.t.toning his denim s.h.i.+rt as they walked inside the hotel. All of them, except Lannes, appeared slightly rough and bedraggled. She certainly felt like something that had been dragged under a car, which was closer to the truth than she was entirely comfortable with.

Inside was another mystery of architecture. A pa.s.sage from shadows and dark wood into a room that felt like it was made of air and light, a vast expanse echoing with every footstep and whisper. Above them, the dome. It was freestanding, floating, with nothing but arched and delicate steel girders holding everything in place. Immense gla.s.s panels allowed a cool radiance into the room that seemed to make everything, from people to furniture, appear impossibly delicate.

The walls rose six stories high and curved around the interior in a perfect circle lined by Grecian pillars. Dark windows filled the s.p.a.ces in between, gazing inward like hundreds of dark eyes. A beautiful s.p.a.ce-perhaps pretentious, certainly grand. Wild beyond any human purpose except, Lethe supposed, to prove that such a thing was possible.

She walked several steps away and swiped a brochure left on one of the chairs. She thumbed through it and shook her head. "Larger than the Pantheon and Saint Peter's Basilica in Rome. Built in 1902. Biggest freestanding dome in the world until 1965."

"So, why are we here?" Lannes murmured. Rictor and Koni stood behind him, scanning the small groups of people ranged across the ma.s.sive atrium. Cameras flashed and some children laughed, chasing each other.

Children. Laughing.

Dizziness cut through Lethe, and for a moment her vision blurred, windows and people running together like pieces of a black web. At first she thought her eyes were dry, or that perhaps she was just tired, but she glanced at Lannes and he was clear as crystal-as were Rictor and Koni, though their skin seemed to s.h.i.+mmer.

Her neck ached. Her head felt heavy, tired.

This is where it began, whispered a voice inside her mind, and everything around her s.h.i.+fted as if a camera were panning sideways, fast. Lethe staggered...and the world changed. Like a snap.

She found herself alone beneath the heart of the dome, standing in the center of the cavernous room. Everyone was gone. Even Lannes. The air was dark. It must have been night. She turned, searching for anything familiar, but all she saw was empty floor and hundreds of black windows, which made her skin crawl. As though behind all that gla.s.s were eyes, staring.

Lethe heard uneasy laughter. Children. She tried to turn, but her feet refused to budge. Terror clawed up her throat. She felt a presence bearing down on her body, fat as a slug, and again the children squealed with delight.

They thought it was a game, whispered the voice. They told my daughter it was a game, but it wasn't.

The laughter of the children grew stronger, closer, and those dark windows s.h.i.+mmered as though made of water. She heard the slow shuffle of something immense directly behind her shoulder. Hot breath puffed against her neck, followed by the scent of blood, loose bowels.

The children began chanting- -and Lethe woke up. She was stretched on a cold hard floor. It was day instead of night. Lannes crouched over her, holding her face between his hands. His eyes were impossibly grave. Nausea crawled up her throat, her nostrils still burning with that awful scent. Her ears rang. Lannes did not say a word.

"What happened?" she croaked, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth. Her throat hurt, her nose ran. Everything felt raw.

Lannes trailed his knuckle across her cheek. "You fell unconscious."

Lethe dragged in a deep breath. "How long?"

"Less than a minute."

Voices clamored, and she realized there was a crowd. The giant bulk of Lannes' body blocked much of it, and Rictor and Koni stood on her other side, imposing figures, keeping people back.

"Don't mind everyone," Lannes murmured, his hand smoothing back her hair, his touch so gentle that she hardly felt it. "You're okay now. You're fine."

She heard children laughing, but couldn't tell if it was real or an echo from the darkness. It was chilling either way. She tried to sit up, but Lannes scooped her into his arms. Faces pa.s.sed in a blur, and then she was set down again, on a long couch.

"Incoming," Rictor murmured, somewhere on her right. She looked up and saw a very young woman in a dark suit running toward them. She carried a walkie-talkie, and her brown hair, pulled back into a sensible ponytail, bounced furiously.

"I'm fine," Lethe said before the woman reached her, and then louder, "I'm fine, really. Blood sugar. Happens sometimes."

The walkie-talkie crackled, and the woman frowned with a concern that seemed genuine and very sweet. "Are you certain? We've already called an ambulance-"