Angel's Pain

When Gregor returned to his Byram castle, leaving all Dwyer's computer equipment and files in the Jeep, he sensed trouble immediately.



His brow furrowed as he felt the absence of his prisoner. The elation of knowing his enemies were on their way to being delivered to him vanished. Slamming the door and bellowing for the drones, he surged through the mansion, down the basement stairs and into the room where the prisoner had been kept.



Nothing. The manacles lay on the floor, the key still in their lock. And that was all. Dammit!



"Matthias!" he shouted, stomping out of the room and up the basement stairs. "I told you to unchain him, not let him go.



Matthias, where the hell are you, boy?"



No answer.



And suddenly he was aware of the other absence he sensed: that of his son.



As he entered the hallway from the basement stairwell, one of his drones, one he called Brutus, though they all pretty much looked alike, stood there looking at his own feet. "Master, the prisoner and the boy were gone when we awoke from the day sleep. We didn't know what to do."



In his hand, the drone held a sheet of paper with handwriting covering one side.



"What the hell is that?" Gregor demanded.



"It was in the boy's room."



Gregor snatched the sheet from the drone's hand, and read it rapidly.



I have your son.



I won't harm him as long as you do exactly as I say.



Turn yourself in at CIA headquarters in White Plains. I'll tell them to be ready for you. You have forty-eight hours. If you fail, the boy dies.



I can play hardball, too.



D.D.



"You promised I'd be home before dark!" When they stepped out of the arcade and onto the sidewalk, Matt was shocked to see that it was dark outside. The sun was long gone. His father had to be home by now, and he was going to be in big trouble.



Still, it had been the best day he'd spent in a long time-since before his mom had died. Even though Derry had been hurting pretty badly most of the day, he had been fun. Once they got the car, he'd found some medicine in the glove compartment, and that had seemed to make him feel better. He still had to be sore, though.



Their first stop had been lunch. Derry let Matt pick the place, and Matt picked his favorite fast-food chain, one he used to visit with his mom sometimes. Then they'd gone to the zoo. Derry rented a golf cart to drive around the place, probably 'cause he was too sore to walk all that way. He stayed in the cart most of the time, just rested, and he took some more of his pills while Matt was busy looking at the tigers.



Then they sat on a bench in the shade for a long time, sipping lemonade and resting some more. And finally Derry had driven him to the arcade, handed him a whole role of quarters and then sat where he could watch over him and let him play until he could barely move his thumbs.



It had been great. But Derry had been looking more and more worn out as the day went on. And now it was dark.



"I am in so much trouble."



"I guess we lost track of the time," Derry said. He patted Matt's shoulder. "I don't want you to worry about it, though. You're not goin' to get into any hot water over this."



"You don't know my father," Matt told him.



"Actually, I do, Matt. I know him better than you do, I think."



Matt frowned up at the man. "I know he's not a very nice person. And that he hurt you. Pretty bad."



Derry nodded.



"I'd have let you go sooner if I could."



"That wasn't your job, Matt. Don't waste any time feelin' guilty about that, okay?"



"It's just...my father's different. And special. Too special to have to follow the same rules as everyone else."



"Did he tell you that, Matthias?"



Matt nodded. "He said I'm special, too. Not as special as him. Not yet, but I will be someday."



"And is that what you want? To be like him?"



Matt pursed his lips in thought. "Not... mean like him."



"What if you could have anythin' in the whole world, any kind of life you wanted, Matt? What would you want for yourself?"



"That's easy." Matt lowered his head. "I'd want my mom back."



"I don't blame you."



"She wasn't like him. She wasn't mean like him, and she wasn't...you know."



"Yeah, I know what you mean. She didn't sleep durin' the day and have superhuman strength and all that kind of stuff, right?"



"Right."



"And your father told you she was dead, right?"



"Yeah."



"Did he tell you how she died?"



"Car accident," he said.



"Hmm."



Matt tipped his head to one side, looking at Derry and thinking the way he'd said "hmm" was odd. "I never really believed him, though. Not, you know, all the way."



"Why not?"



"Well, we didn't have a funeral. Don't you usually have a funeral when someone dies?"



"Yeah, usually."



"And I saw her car. After. It was in the garage, just like always. Not banged up or anything. I saw it right before Father and I left."



"Where did you go?"



"I don't know. One place after another. Always a great big house someplace I'd never been before. I'm not allowed to go outside or go to school or leave at all, so the house is pretty much all I see."



"How long has it been like that for you?"



"A year. Before that I lived with Mom. Dad left us. I barely even remembered him until he came back. And then they fought, and then she died, and he took me and we left. But one night, I swore I heard her voice, yelling at him."



Derry was silent for a long moment. He said, "You know, I'm sort of like a cop."



"You are?"



"Yeah. And keepin' track of your father has been a big part of my job for the past ten years. We didn't know he was goin' to go back to you and your mom, and end up takin' you away with him. Heck, I didn't even know he had a son. But we knew about your mom, and if there had been a car accident, we would have known about that, too."



Matt's head came up slowly, his eyes widening as he searched Derry's face. "You mean there wasn't one?"



"No, Matt. When your father left with you, your mom was still alive. She disappeared a while later, but I'm fairly certain she went lookin' for you. And I've got no reason to believe she's dead."



Matt felt something huge filling up his chest, something so big he thought he might bust right open. "My mom's alive?"



"Yeah, as far as I know."



Matt's eyes were burning, and he blinked fast to keep tears from spilling over. "You wouldn't lie to me, would you, Derry? Not about my mom."



Matt didn't think the man was lying. The talent he had-the one his mom had called a gift and warned him not to tell anyone about-was telling him that Derry wasn't lying. But he was afraid to trust it about something this big.



"No, Matt. I wouldn't lie about that. Your father lied to you, not me. So here's the thing. I'd like you to stay with me, until I can find your mom for you and get you two back together."



Matt's eyes widened. "But if Dad finds out-"



"We can keep him from findin' us. We'll just have to be careful, and you'll have pay attention to what I tell you and do what I say. But we can do it."



"He'd kill me if he caught us!"



"If he should catch us-and he won't-but if he does, I'll say I kidnapped you. You know, to pay him back for hurtin' me like he did."



"K-kidnapped me?"



"Sure. That way he can't be mad at you. Only at me. Okay?"



Matthias stared hard at Derry; then he narrowed his eyes. "That's what you really are doing, though, isn't it, Derry?" And when Derry looked at him in surprise, Matt went on, telling him what he knew, but not entirely how he knew it. Felt it. "I saw you writing the note, leaving it in my room. I kind of figured that's what was happening."



"You knew I was kidnappin' you? And yet you came with me anyway?"



Lowering his head, Matt sighed. "I guess I figured I'd be better off with a kidnapper than staying with my father. And I think it will be easier to run away from you than it would be to run away from him. You know?"



"You don't have to run away from me, Matthias. You're goin' to be safe with me. I promise."



Matt thinned his lips and slowly nodded his head. But he wasn't nodding because he believed Derry Because he didn't.



That gift of his, the one that Derry didn't know about, let him hear people's thoughts. It hadn't always been as sharp as it was now. Maybe it had gotten better from living in a house full of vampires and drones who spoke more to each other with their minds than with their mouths. But whatever the reason, it had become stronger and stronger, until now, it happened without him even trying. He heard a lot of what people were thinking.



And just now, he'd heard Derry's thoughts.



He's a good kid. I sure as hell hope I don't have to kill him.



Matt hoped so, too. But he wouldn't count on it. If he wanted to survive, he was going to have to be smart, and not trust anybody besides himself. Because everyone else in the world would always put themselves first. His father had been right about that.



Matt wondered if his mom really was still alive, or if Derry had just been lying to him to get what he wanted. It had felt like the truth, when Derry said it. He hoped his gift was being honest with him.



It didn't matter. He would find out. And even though Derry was thinking about killing him, Matt thought, he was better off with him than he'd been before. One step closer to being free. Just like he'd planned from the day he'd seen his father drag Derrick Dwyer through the house and down to the basement. One look into the man's eyes and he'd known: this man would be his way out.



Briar knelt on the back lawn, just beneath Crisa's bedroom window, palms to the ground, feeling.



"Anything?" Reaper asked.



Rising slowly, Briar stared off toward the thick brush at the lawn's edge. "This way," she said, and she started walking. Not running, because it would be far too easy to get off course, lose track of the signal in favor of speed, and that would do more harm than good.



Reaper caught up in short order, and they made their way into the brush and weeds, pushing through branches, limbs and undergrowth. Crisa hadn't left a physical trail, only a mental one, and that was what Briar followed as she moved through the tangled limbs.



"Does she feel close?" Reaper asked.



"You can't sense her for yourself?"



"I can, slightly. But my connection with Crisa is nowhere near as powerful as the one she has with you."



She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, and who's to blame for that?" She shot a look over her shoulder at him as she asked the question and saw an amused look in his eyes, one he hid quickly.



"Someone had to give her blood to save her life, Briar. You were the closest."



"I didn't want to do it. I didn't want-this."



"What? To care about her?"



"It's not caring, it's a compulsion. I don't have a choice but to help her. The damn fact that my blood is running through her veins is what's driving me, nothing more."



"Right. And there's no...feeling behind it."



"None whatsoever."



"So if she died, the bond would be broken, and you'd feel...?"



"Nothing," she said, pushing limbs aside, pausing to look around, to try to sense where Crisa had gone.



"I don't believe that," Reaper said softly.



She spun around to face him. "You're right. I would feel something. Relief to be rid of her. She's like a weight around my neck.



I don't like feeling responsible for anyone besides myself."



She turned forward again, putting her back to him and her nose to the wind; picking up Crisa's essence, she once again began moving toward her.



"That much I understand," he said as they pressed on. "1 didn't like it, either, when I started accumulating this...this gang of ours. I've always worked alone."



"So why didn't you walk away?"



"Same reason you haven't, I guess. I had a bond with Seth, once I shared the gift with him. Then, when we came upon Topaz, she didn't give us a choice but to take her along. We had no option but to rescue Vixen and Ilyana. And Roxy-well, hell, saying no to Roxy isn't really something anyone can do."



She paused and turned to look him in the eye. "And what about me? You can't say you had no choice with me. You kidnapped me, held me by force."



"We were planning to burn Gregor's headquarters and everyone in it. The alternative to taking you was to let you die."



"You ever think I might have preferred it?"



He searched her eyes, her soul, until she had to look away. "Would you?" he asked.



She shrugged and started walking again. "Anyway, you're wrong about us being the same. You may be unable to walk away from your little dysfunctional family, but I'm not. As soon as Crisa is safe, I'm leaving."



"By yourself?"



"Yes, by myself. What do you think I'm going to do, adopt her?"



He sighed but said nothing.



"You don't think I'll do it, do you?"



"I think it's something that's far easier said than done. That's been my experience, at least."



She picked up the pace, feeling Crisa closer than before, and she called out mentally, Crisa! Wait for me. I'm coming to help you. Just stop running, right now, and wait for me.



No! You'll make me go back!



And then she felt the girl's flight take on a new urgency. "Dammit, that was a mistake. Come on." Reaching behind her without forethought, she clasped Reaper's hand and began running through the forest. "I never should have told her I was coming. She's running even faster than before."



"We're stronger," Reaper told her. "We'll catch up."



They raced for several hundred yards, before emerging from the brush onto a barren slope that descended to pavement, a parking lot that surrounded a cluster of buildings: gift shops, a diner-a haven for tourists. There were several vehicles taking up spaces. And Crisa was nowhere in sight.



"Briar?"



"She's here. I know she is." She felt Reaper's hand tighten on hers, a gesture meant to reassure her. All it did was remind her that she was holding on to him and make her wonder why. She immediately released her grip. He didn't try to stop her.



And then she spotted Crisa. She was climbing into the passenger side of a pickup truck with a male driver, and before Briar could shout that she absolutely forbade her to go, the truck pulled out of the parking lot and sped away.



"Dammit!" She lunged as if to run after the truck, but Reaper caught her arm, holding her back.



"You'll be seen. Besides, they'll be off the island in minutes, and if you can't catch them on foot in time-which you can't-



they'll be even farther ahead. We're going to have to go back and get a vehicle."



She lowered her head, sighing in frustration.



"We'll find her. She'll be okay."



Raising her head, she met his eyes and narrowed her own. "Why are you really with me, instead of chasing down leads on Gregor?"



His lips thinned, and he shook his head very slightly. "Why are you chasing after Crisa instead of Gregor? I thought finding him was your top priority."



"I told you, it's the blood bond. I don't have a choice."



"Maybe I don't, either," he said softly.



Briar rolled her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. There's no bond between us."



He was still staring at her, staring deeply into her eyes, and she didn't need to probe his mind to know what he was thinking. He was thinking that there was a bond between the two of them. He was thinking about that night when they'd had sex in a car on the street, and how explosive it had been, how intense. He was thinking that had bonded them, and he was wishing it could happen again.



Her throat went dry. She swallowed against it. "Let's go find a car."



Crisa sat next to the man in the pickup and let her mind, blissfully silent for a moment, float back only a few minutes, to when she'd been stumbling through the forest, almost blinded by the pain in her head. She was being pursued. She knew it. Arms out ahead of her, she moved faster, even while trying to avoid the scratching branches and pummeling limbs in her path. It wasn't easy, with the boy's image in her mind's eye and the voice in her head that kept urging her on.



Come to me, Crisa. Come here. You must come here. Byram, Connecticut. Just come here. You know you have to do this. For the boy's sake, if not your own.



"Yes."



Her face hurt. She was certain there were scratches on her cheeks and arms, and yet she barely noticed the pain, intent only on moving north. Always north.



And then, suddenly, the image and the voice in her mind vanished utterly, replaced by the certainty that someone was closing in on her from behind. No, not just someone. Briar. She realized it even before Briar spoke to her, told her to wait, that she was coming.



She couldn't wait. Briar would try to stop her from doing what she was compelled to do. She ran faster, bursting into preternatural speed, moving more rapidly than any human eye could detect. She stopped only when she burst from the trees into openness, and then stood still for a moment, fighting to get her bearings.



She was on a hill, the woods behind her. Below and in front of her there were buildings and people and... vehicles.



As a man emerged from one of the buildings, heading toward a blue pickup truck while fumbling with a set of keys, she jogged down the small hill toward him, smoothing her still wet hair as she went. "Hey!" she called. "Hey, mister."



He turned in her direction, smiling, but his smile froze in place when he saw her. A frown came instead, and he glanced beyond her, then back again. "Are you all right? Do you need help?"



He was a sturdy young man, with thick dark hair and a whisper of shadow on his cheeks and jaw. He wore faded jeans and a red button-down shirt.



She stopped just two feet from him and nodded. "I need a ride. Do you have room?"



"Yeah. Sure. Here, hop in." He opened the passenger door of his truck and looked, once again, beyond her.



She climbed into the truck and settled herself on the seat, as he stood there holding the door. He said, "You're soaked, and all scratched up. Are you sure you're okay? Did you have an accident or something?"



"I'm fine...but I'm, um, kind of in a hurry."



He nodded. "Okay, then." He closed the door, trotted around to his side of the truck and got in. Within another heartbeat, the vehicle was in motion. "You heading anywhere in particular?"



"North," she told him.



He pulled onto the road, and soon they were picking up speed. "That's not very specific."



"Connecticut."



He smiled a little, then reached past her to flip open the glove compartment. He took a box of tissues from it and dropped it in her lap. "That's definitely more specific. I'm only going as far as Maryland, though."



"Is that the right way?"



He looked at her a little oddly. "Yeah. Maryland is lots closer to Connecticut than you are now."



She nodded, then frowned. "Will we get there before sunrise?"



"Oh, for sure."



"Good. Then I'll go with you to Maryland." She plucked a tissue from the box and dabbed at the sore spots on her face.



"There's a mirror there, above the visor," he said, flipping the visor down as he spoke to show her.



She flipped it back up again, a knee-jerk reaction so fast it made him jump. Vampires cast no reflection. And mortals must never know them for what they were. Rey-Rey had told her that countless times. It was ingrained in her, she guessed. It certainly hadn't come from practice. She'd had very little interaction with mortals since she'd been made over. Other than Roxy and Ilyana, and she'd only known them for the past several days.



The man was looking at her, then the road, then her again.



She covered her momentary panic with a false smile. "I must look a mess right now. I don't want to see how bad."



His frown faded. "Actually, aside from a few scratches on your face and a twig in your hair-" he reached up to plug the offending bit of foliage from her bangs "-you look really pretty."



Her fake smile turned into a real one. "That's nice of you to say."



"Nothing but the truth. What's your name, anyway?"



"Crisa," she, told him. "Yours?"



"Bobby."



"It's a nice name." She settled back in her seat, feeling confident that Bobby posed no threat to her.



"Do you like music, Crisa?"



She nodded hard. "Yes, I do. I like all kinds of music."



He reached over and pressed a button. A country song filled the pickup truck, and Crisa tapped her foot in time, leaned her aching head back against the seat and closed her eyes.



But the boy was right there waiting when she did. He looked lost and frightened, and she knew that he needed her, though she wasn't sure how she knew that. She also knew that if she followed that voice, the one telling her to come to Connecticut, she would find the boy.



So that was what she had to do.