The Society - Hunter Healer Part 18

"Down!" he yelled, and Rowan threw herself down, rolling with sweet natural grace as he and Henderson peppered the lone tracker with lead. She gained her feet again in a skidding rush, not bothering to look behind her, and he realized just how beautiful it was to see her running again. He'd missed seeing her go all-out. She looked like a cheetah, as if it was no big deal to be moving over the ground so easily.

She almost ran into him, barely slowed, Henderson whirled and took point to lead her out. Del checked the hall, turned on his heel and fell in behind to cover. The crackle of her talent washed over his skin, a lightning storm about to happen. Bullets pocked the wall as they slid around the corner, the guards shooting wildly and uncomfortably close.

As they scrambled down the stairs, he wished he could stop and give her some shoes. When they hit the gravel outside she was going to get hurt.

Yos.h.i.+'s voice suddenly crackled to life in his ear. "Keep moving. You're clear for now, so go. Go, go, go. The timer's set, counting down, twenty seconds. Eighteen. Fifteen. Watch your flank, Del. There's heavy fire coming your way, Henderson take the left turn. Move, guys. Move." A pause sizzling through the comm-unit, Yosh letting them work and keeping his mouth shut when he had nothing to offer. Then, "Five. Four. Three. Two. One. We have liftoff."

A ma.s.sive faraway boom shook the air as Henderson kicked the door open, and then they were outside, cutting across a graveled drive, Del's boots crunching, and more bullets popping and digging into the dirt.

Darkness, movement, and confusion reigned supreme and conspired to make every shot miss. Fire began in the bottom of Del's lungs. He'd abused not only himself tonight but before, with no time to heal between Carson's bodyguard and this little s.h.i.+ndig. But Rowan's pale head in front of him made it worthwhile.

Henderson jerked and skidded, as if he'd been hit. Rowan, right behind him, caught his arm and hauled him upright. And yes, it was official. She had perhaps gone crazy, because she was laughing as she hauled the old man along, her eyes wide and wild and her waxen cheeks slick and s.h.i.+ny with tears Del could feel against his own face.

Then, wonder of wonders, he heard tires on the gravel. A black van, headlights dark and dead, speeding toward them and throwing up chunks of crushed stone. "It's us, guys. We're coming to get you, so continue on present course. Zeke got clipped and Boomer's furious, but otherwise we're at a hundred percent."

Henderson didn't bother correcting him about the hundred percent. Neither did Del. He needed his breath for running. A skidding, smoking half-turn and the side of the van was open, Brew leaning out.

Rowan all but boosted Henderson in and Del was right behind her, crowding her, his hands on her waist.

He fairly threw her into the van and hopped in, grabbing the quick-release catch. Cath floored it. Boomer already had his comm-unit off and was ripping open packs of gauze. Del slammed the door, the noise ofbullets suddenly distant. The blackness pressed like a wet bandage against his eyes despite the faint glow of monitors. The plastic explosive had worked better than even Yos.h.i.+ had suggested. All the lights in the complex were out.

"G.o.ddammit! Motherf.u.c.k!" Cath was swearing, a low steady monotony of obscenities so familiar Del could have mouthed them with her. He ignored them, sliding his guns back into the holsters. The air was suddenly close and rank.

"Rowan? Ro?" I sound like I'm fifteen again.

"How bad is he?" Rowan's voice broke. She sobbed openly. Brew was already sliding into the pa.s.senger seat while Yos.h.i.+ braced himself in the tiny chair, his fingers dancing over the keyboard while he strung code. They weren't out of the woods yet.

"Bad news, Cath!" Yos.h.i.+ yelled. "Front door's closed!"

Cath's only answer was an unrepeatable term that raised even Del's eyebrows and the sudden jolt of acceleration as she smashed the gas pedal to the floor. Del lost his balance and fell, managing to land on something soft and familiar. If I'm going to die, I'm going to die kissing her. He found her cheek against his in the darkness. The van careened over a b.u.mp, and Rowan let out a short cry of pain he smothered with his mouth.

"You're bleeding pretty badly," Boomer muttered. "Dammit, old man, say something."

"You sound like an old woman." Henderson's voice, tight with pain. Del wondered where he'd been hurt and found he didn't care. "Quit it."

"You're stepping on me." This from Zeke, uncomfortably wedged in the back of the van.

Del didn't care who was stepping on Zeke. He slid his fingers into Rowan's hair and kissed her again, savagely, teeth pressing into her lips. She gasped into his mouth, and he tasted the chemical sourness of some drug. Fear smashed into him. Zed? Or something else? There was a slick wetness on her cheeks, and she shuddered so hard it was almost convulsions. Her hip was braced against the door and a small wounded sound rose in her throat.

"I'll be all right. Just my leg. I'll need a f.u.c.king cane." Henderson said, his hand white in the dimness as he reached up to steady himself against the edge of Yos.h.i.+'s console.

"Watch the guns, watch the guns!" Brewster's voice hit a pitch Del had never heard before.

"Get ready!" Cath shouted. "Or this is gonna be one f.u.c.kuva short trip!"

"Oh, cra-" Whatever Henderson intended to say was lost in the impact as Cath barreled through the fence. Bullets chewed along the side of the armor plating on the van, but with the grid down and the backup power disabled, the entire brooding anthill of Zero-Fifteen was critically disabled. By the time the Sigs got their wits about them, the Society ops would be lost in the urban wilds of Taos, scattering to rendezvous back at Headquarters. The van would be abandoned, the bodies of Section 511 would be found at the bottom of a dry gulch, and the Society would have pulled off another hat trick.

Jesus Christ. He kissed Rowan's cheek, her ear, the slippery tangle of her hair. Then communication, as he flooded the link to her mind with his crazed relief at finding her again.

Don't ever do that to me again. Don't you EVER do that to me again. G.o.ddammit, woman, I thought I'd lost you. I thought I'd lost you. You could have been killed. You could have been-"How we doing, Yosh?" Henderson heaved himself up, his voice brittle with pain. Boomer made an exasperated sound and braced him, trying to keep compression on the wound high on the old man's right thigh.

"No pursuit, General. There's some kind of snarl in the chain of command, and nothing's getting done.

Better than we'd hoped." Yos.h.i.+ sounded cautiously optimistic. "Cath?"

"We didn't lose any tires, so I'm happy. Zeke? Zeke, baby, talk to me."

"I think I sprained my ankle, and Boomer stepped on me," Zeke answered morosely. "Great drivin', Cathy."

"Amen to that." Boomer made a short, snorting sound. "How's that for payback? Yeah!" It was the closest to unadulterated joy Del had ever heard from the man.

"Anton," Rowan whispered, and Del's skin went cool and rough with terror and gooseflesh. "He ...

Jilssen..."

"Later," Del promised, taking a little pity and struggling not to crush her. She probably couldn't breathe with him lying on top of her. A spike of frustrated heat went through him, an animal reaction to the adrenaline surge.

Every time I get some time alone with you, something else happens. I swear to G.o.d I'm going to lock you in a room and spend some time getting to know you again in the best way, angel.

It was the sudden rubber-band snap of released tension, postcombat jitters. "You were under a compulsion, Ro. I didn't spot it. My f.u.c.king fault. I'm sorry. I'm so G.o.dd.a.m.n sorry-"

"They're not even scrambling helicopters," Yos.h.i.+ said, wonderingly. "Wow. What the h.e.l.l?"

"Anton," Rowan choked again. "I killed Jilssen. He's dead. I killed him."

Christ. His knee felt bruised, but he wedged it against the floor and dragged her up to a sitting position.

He propped her back against the locked door and started feeling for any damage, mostly to rea.s.sure himself she was still alive.

"Road's clear," Brewster said from the front. "This is fantastic."

"Let's not get c.o.c.ky. Yos.h.i.+, find out what the h.e.l.l's happened. Rowan, what about Anton?" The bite of command in Henderson's voice made her stiffen. Del almost opened his mouth to take the old man down a peg for barking at her, but Henderson was right. They needed to know.

Rowan gulped in air. He touched her collarbone, her arms. Then he felt her knee, her ankle, and spread his hand against her belly. Her tank top had ridden up. He felt warm, soft skin and almost groaned.

"Jilssen." She choked on the word. Delgado realized she was crying, taking in great sobbing breaths and shuddering. "He wanted to breed me. They wanted to breed me. I killed him. I killed him and then Anton came in-"

"Christ." Del caught her shoulders and stopped himself from shaking her by a sheer effort of will. "Did he hurt you? Did he?" His stomach boiled at the thought.

"Let her talk, Delgado." Henderson moved irritably so Boomer could tighten the tourniquet around his wounded leg."H-he had a gun." She held it up, fingers locked on either side of the trigger guard. "T-tried t-t-to use his t-talent on me. I burned him, I burned him out. I wanted to kill him. G.o.d, I wanted to kill him."

You're not the only one, angel. I want to kill him too.

"Burned him?" Henderson sucked in a breath as Boomer yanked on the tourniquet, tightening it.

"Sit the f.u.c.k down, General. You're bleeding on me."

"Bite it, soldier. Burned him, Rowan?" Henderson c.o.c.ked his head.

Dammit, leave her alone. She's just been through the wringer. But he shut up. Henderson needed this information, needed it desperately, or he wouldn't be pus.h.i.+ng her.

"He's not a psion anymore." Her breath hitched in. "I burned his talent out. Then I p-pistol whipped him.

Maybe I killed him. I don't know. I didn't stick around to find out."

Silence rang through the car. Then Cath whistled out through her teeth. "Good f.u.c.king deal," she summed up. "Hope you did kill him. Brew, how we doing?"

"No pursuit that I can see. Yosh?"

"None here, either. Their tails are still tied in a knot back there. Hope you used enough C4."

"Of course I did," Boomer replied irritably. "I used enough to knock out the whole f.u.c.king grid. All the lights were f.u.c.king out."

"Rowan." Del shut out the sound of the others. Acceleration pulled against his body as Cath took a curve. He cupped Rowan's face in his hands. "You all right?" His voice almost broke under the sheer inadequacy of the question. "G.o.ddammit, talk to me. Talk to me."

"I'm not all right." A sob cracked under her words. "I killed him. I used my talent to kill him."

She bent forward, curving into his arms. She cried against him as if her heart was breaking, and he closed his eyes, stroking her tangled hair and tasting bitterness. She should never have had to do that, face that, alone. He should have gotten to her before the Sigs did.

The full horror of what she'd experienced soaked into him. His arms tightened around her, and he held her as tightly as he could. Fortunately, Henderson didn't ask any more questions, just submitted to Boomer's ministrations and started organizing the finer points of their escape.

Chapter Twenty-Seven.

Rowan fell into a thin, restless doze, barely paying attention when the van stopped and everyone leapt out. Justin took care of everything, ushering her out of the van and into the clean chill of a desert dawn.

Wind touched her hair and mouthed her cheek. Her head throbbed, and she knew someone was hurt-probably more than one someone-but she couldn't bring herself to care or offer help.

The empty Sig van, wiped free of fingerprints and cleared of all Society gear, went over the side of the road, down a long sheer fall into a ravine. The crunches, crashes and tinkling broken gla.s.s were very loud in the predawn hush. On the other side of the road, parked far over on the shoulder against the mountainside, were three cars, waiting patiently to spirit the Society team into the distance.

"I'll take care of it," Justin said. "I won't let her out of my sight."

"Good." Henderson sounded tired. "I'd hate to have to do this again."

She winced. It was all her fault, the suffering, the death. Her fault. She was a plague. She tainted everything she touched. All because of her freakish talents.

If I could burn out Anton's talent, maybe I could burn out my own.

But if she did, she would be helpless. Once Sigma regrouped, they would be after her. Who knew who would be in control now that she'd destroyed Anton? Or if she hadn't killed him, would he still be in charge?

Maybe it would be best for everyone if I disappeared. Just ... disappeared.

Her head was heavy. She leaned against Justin, feeling his exhaustion close around her. Exhaustion and grim determination. His arm was around her, solid and warm, accepting her weight.

Someone grasped her shoulder firmly. "Rowan?"

She raised her eyelids with an effort and stared at Henderson. "General." Her voice wouldn't work quite properly. "I'm sorry." Two words, pale and utterly unable to carry the full burden of her guilt. "If I hadn't-"

His steely eyes were softer than she had ever seen them, and his mouth pulled tight, as if he tasted something bitter. He squeezed her shoulder. "We didn't spot the compulsion, Rowan. It's my fault, not yours. I should have known Carson would pull something like that. Listen, Del's going to take you north until everything calms down. Stay with him, all right?" His tone was gentle, gentler than his usual briskness by far. "Don't torture yourself. Do you know why we came to get you?"

She shook her head numbly. Two fat tears brimmed up and spilled hotly down her cheeks.

"We never leave one of our own behind, Ro. You're one of us." He leaned in, and she saw the glint off his wire-rimmed gla.s.ses in the pale gray of false dawn. There was a stain of orange light on the horizon, some desert city. Which one? She didn't know. Justin would know. "You hear me? You've proved yourself time and time again. You're one of us. Understood?"

She gathered herself. "It's my fault," she said dully. "My fault."

Henderson squeezed her shoulder again, his fingers turning to iron. "Sigma isn't your G.o.dd.a.m.n fault. They started before you were born, little girl. The only thing you're guilty of is being a good person, and that'sno crime." He let go of her. "Stay with Del. Listen to him."

She nodded. Henderson limped away, leaning on a silent Boomer.

Cath stepped in and kissed her cheek. The smell of Juicy Fruit, cordite, and strawberry incense clung to the younger girl. "Be safe," she whispered, with no trace of impatience. "I'm glad we got you out. Don't do anything stupid, okay?"

Yos.h.i.+ merely bowed slightly, his almond-shaped eyes glittering. Brew and Zeke had already walked away, Cath following them to the second car. Yos.h.i.+ drifted after Boomer and Henderson. Before he was out of sight, though, his mind brushed Rowan's briefly, a warm friendly touch, as if they were in the middle of an operation again.

You are my very dear friend, Yos.h.i.+ said. Be gentle with yourself for a while, Rowan.

Gentle? Her breath hitched in an unsteady laugh. She didn't feel like being gentle. All she wanted to do was find somewhere dark to curl up and pa.s.s out.

She was left with Justin, standing on the side of the wide paved road. He pulled her back from the edge of the ravine as two car engines roused and their headlights cut a wide swath through the gray. No traffic, but he looked both ways before guiding her across the street and to a cream-colored Volvo.

He unlocked the pa.s.senger door with a sigh. "We'll stop to get some sleep as soon as we cross the state line. Afraid you'll have to wait a little while for a change of clothes. Cath packed some for you and you can change when we stop for breakfast, is that okay? I've got a kitbag for you, so at least you won't be helpless. We can get coffee in Taos and-"

Her shoulders shook. She couldn't seem to stop crying.

"Hey." Now he sounded alarmed. "Christ, Ro. Please. We've got to get out of here, sweetheart. You're safe now. I promise you're safe." He stuffed the keys back in his pocket and stroked her hair, hugged her, kissed her forehead and might have tried to kiss her mouth if she hadn't buried her face against his chest, smelling the clean healthy scent of a male who had just undergone a hard workout. She wasn't sure if he was wounded, couldn't bear to look up. He also smelled like night wind, of cordite like Catherine-of course, there had been a lot of gunfire-and like the only safety she had now. "Shhh, angel. It's all right. I'm here."

Of course you're here. How can you forgive me? I left you there in that horrible place. With Jilssen, and with that ... that filth. Anton. Shudders racked her. She didn't resist when he opened the car door and pushed her down inside to sit, buckling her seat belt. The smell of a new car filled her acid-tasting mouth. Of course, they drained the old resource net, plenty of funding. Newer cars, nice and clean. We can use them for a while before they get hot.

He dropped in on the driver's side with a sigh, settling his kitbag on the console between them. He was pale, his mouth a hard line and his eyes glittering darkly. He slid the key into the ignition and twisted it.

The car started. His hands curled around the wheel, and she saw through the tears that blurred her vision that his knuckles were white.

"I am never going to forgive myself," he said, harshly. "I'm taking you north. Eleanor's cleared out the house in Calgary, but we'll stay somewhere different. Sigma will never find you, Ro, not in a hundred years. I'll make sure they don't. If you still want to come back and run operations for the Society we can do that too. But I am never, ever, letting you out of my sight again. You decide to go on an operation, I'm going with you. You decide to go civilian and disappear, I'm going with you. And if you decide to getout of this car and throw yourself over that cliff, guess who's going to be right behind you."

Her entire body hurt. She closed her eyes, her head moaning and rippling with pain. "I killed him." Her voice was dry as a bleached skeleton. "My mother always said I should use my talent for good."

"It was good." Though there was no traffic, he checked over his shoulder as he pulled out. His leather jacket made a slight creaking sound as he s.h.i.+fted his weight, and he pa.s.sed his hand back over his hair again as if forgetting it was cut short. He looked, as usual, impossibly calm and precise. "You got rid of a f.u.c.king plague upon the earth, angel. Believe me, I know how you feel. I can't touch anyone's mind without killing them or driving them f.u.c.king mad. Anton trained me by hooking me on Zed. I couldn't get my hit until I broke some poor b.a.s.t.a.r.d's mind to some appropriate degree. More often than not, they were used for target practice afterward." The car moved smoothly over the road, tires whispering. "I hope you killed Anton too. I just wish I would have been there to do it so you didn't have to. I am never going to forgive myself, Rowan."

"Forgive yourself?" She couldn't stop the bitter little laugh that boiled out past her lips. "I left you there, Justin! And I ... I..."

I betrayed the Society, she realized. I could have been tortured into betraying Headquarters.

Especially if I was strapped into that chair and Anton touched me. I don't think I could have stood it if he'd gone to work on me.