She stared in shock at the Kurjan. “You killed him.”
“No.” Ronan reached her and wrapped an arm around her waist, lifting her and running toward the exit. She started to struggle. An open doorway to his right caught his attention, and he moved inside a closet with what appeared to be clothing on the shelves. Blue and flimsy.
“What are you doing?” she hissed, pushing against his side.
He set her down, keeping his body between her and the door. Then he grabbed some pants and pulled them on before yanking a shirt of sorts over his head. The pants fell just beneath his knees, and the shirt pulled tight across his chest, constricting his upper arms. “What are these?” The material was unfamiliar but not uncomfortable.
“Scrubs.” She tried to move past him to freedom.
He easily picked her up again and rushed for the exit, kicking open the doors with one bare foot and hurrying outside.
Fresh air hit him first, along with the darkness of night. A full moon glowed down, adding illumination to an area already lit by tall, odd candles. Different sized and colored boxes, some sleek, filled an area next to a sign that read STAFF PARKING LOT. Grass and trees were dotted throughout. One box came to life and he stiffened, growling. Lights sprang alive on its front, and it propelled itself toward them, turning at the last minute and swinging around the building.
“Teleporting devices?” he asked, awed by the thought.
“No. Cars, you dipshit,” Faith muttered, kicking his side as he held her aloft. “They transport.”
Ah. Fascinating. Horses had been replaced. “Which one is yours?” he asked.
“Fuck you.” She kicked him again.
He sighed and shook her. “More Cyst will be arriving soon.” Very soon, if they had some of these transport machines. “We have to go.” He pointed Joe’s weapon at her rib cage, not having a choice. “Take me to your machine, or I’ll shoot you and find it myself.” He’d never harm her, but apparently she didn’t know that. “I don’t want to kill you, Faith. But I will.”
CHAPTER THREE
Faith couldn’t breathe. The arm banded around her waist was unrelenting, and she couldn’t get the right leverage to take out Ronan’s knee. Her lungs seized and she looked frantically around the quiet parking lot. The last car hadn’t even seen her. She opened her mouth and tried to draw in air.
Ronan’s hold tightened. “Don’t scream.”
The gun hurt her side. She looked again. There was nobody around. “Fine. It’s the red Volkswagen.” She pointed. If she could get him to a more public place, she’d find help.
He instantly moved toward her Touareg and set her down.
She opened the passenger-side door and gestured him inside. He pushed her in with one broad hand. Swearing, she moved across the car to the driver’s side, noting her purse on the floor. She’d forgotten to take it inside again. There was a canister of mace in there.
Ronan sat and shut the door. “Go. Now.”
She put her foot to the pedal and pressed the ignition button before carefully backing out of the spot. The police station was about ten miles from the hospital, and at this time of night, there wouldn’t be too much traffic. She drove around the hospital and headed for the main road.
“Extraordinary,” Ronan said, examining the lights on the dash. He kept the gun pointed at her side.
She swallowed, trying to calm her nerves. The guy was crazy and an amazing fighter. “Where did you learn to fight like that?” He’d dispatched the weird-looking guy with no problem. And what about that bullet hole? Was he still bleeding? How was he even conscious? “Kill like that?” Her voice trembled.
He sighed. “I’m sorry you saw the violence. I’ll protect you better in the future.”
Future? Her stomach rolled over and settled hard. “Ronan, you really need help. Please let me go, and I’ll make sure you get it.” She pulled out into the main thoroughfare.
He gasped and looked around at the other vehicles and then at the buildings on either side of the avenue. “This is truly amazing.”
She frowned and switched lanes. “Why were those freaky guys after you?” At first, she’d thought somebody was messing with her or wanted to harm her. Or make her go crazy. Now it seemed that this was some sort of weird cultlike thing with Ronan. “Who are you, anyway? Is this some sort of role-playing game? What are you involved in?” Something seriously creepy and wrong was going on. Had those security guys been in on it?
“I told you.” He gaped at the fifty-story building they passed. “I am Ronan Kayrs, I’m your mate, and I’m mostly a vampire.”
She coughed, her body revolting. “You think you’re a vampire.” The fangs and weird eyes. She hadn’t figured out how he’d done that, but movie props made anything possible these days. “And those Cyst guys—they’re vampires too.” This was taking role-playing way too far.
“Kurjans. The Cyst are the religious leaders of the Kurjan empire. Similar to monks, but evil. They are good fighters,” Ronan answered absently, still watching the world outside. “I hope you’re taking me to your father.”
Anger started to burn through her fear. “My father has been dead for well over a decade.”
“Oh.” Ronan’s voice softened. “I’m sorry to hear that. Then please take me to your guardian.”
She gave him a look and took another turn. “Listen, asshole. I think everyone has a right to live their lives any way they want, so long as it doesn’t hurt other people. But this freaky role-playing cult thing you’ve got going on isn’t okay. You killed that guy.” Just how delusional was Ronan? And those other guys? What was happening to society?
“He was going to kill us, and he should be well in a few minutes,” Ronan said reasonably. “I am sensing you do not believe me. You’re not aware of my people.”
Okay. He was crazy. Fear rose in her again, this time with thick dread. She exited the freeway and drove farther downtown, pulling into a spot right outside the police station.
He looked around. “This does not appear to be a home.”
She turned toward him in the sudden quiet of the vehicle. “No.”
He lifted the gun again, pointing it at her temple. “Take me to your abode, or I’ll use this weapon against you.”
She faced him. “No.” Taking an armed man to her apartment held a lot more danger than sitting here. Everyone knew not to take an abductor to a remote or isolated location. “If you’re going to shoot me, it’ll have to be right here and now.” Drawing in a breath, she planted her hand on the horn as hard as she could. The blare quickly punctuated the silence.
“Damn it, Faith,” Ronan snapped, even as his eyes filled with pride. He looked around and grabbed her purse, quickly shoving himself from the vehicle. He tossed the gun on the seat. “We are not finished.”
Cops started jogging out the front door of the station.
Ronan dodged behind a car and then ran off into the night.
Faith released the horn and sagged, panting several times. A uniformed police officer knocked on her window. Tears filled her eyes, and she shoved open her door, getting shakily to her feet. “My name is Dr. Faith Cooper, and I was just kidnapped.” Shuddering now, going into shock, she pointed toward where Ronan had escaped. “He went that way.”
* * * *
Ronan kept to the darkness, dodging between the mammoth buildings, ignoring the glass and rocks digging into his feet. Where were the horses? Grass? Trees? Just these hard surfaces surrounded him, and he kept running through the night to find something—anything—that was familiar.
He saw other people in the shadows—unwashed, hiding, hunched-over people. They ignored him and he did the same. His body needed to rest, but his mind was on fire.
Ultimately, he came to a treed area with benches. The scent of the foliage grounded him and he stopped running, finally allowing his body to relax. I
gnoring the seating areas, he stalked deeper into the trees and slid down the rough bark of a pine, stretching out his legs and sending healing cells to the cuts on his feet.
The world had changed too much. How would he ever find his people? Were his brothers alive? He rubbed his chest, reaching out with all of his senses to find them.
Nothing.
He knocked his head back on the tree trunk, trying to focus. Then he stared at the myriad of scars on his left hand. Slashes upon slashes to create what he’d become. And now his right palm held his marking.
Very well. He was a warrior and he knew his path. This was a strategic offensive, and the first directive was reconnaissance. Information on the world around him was imperative.
A sound emerged from the bag he’d taken from Faith’s Volkswagen.
Slowly lifting, he turned the bag over, shook, and dumped the contents on the grass. Shiny material in tubes, something called a tampon, a brush, another smaller bag that matched the bigger one, and a flat device making noise. He picked the device up and shook it.
The thing grew silent.
He blinked. “Make that noise again.”
The thing was dark and shaped like a rectangle, but it remained quiet. He gripped it tighter, his thumb pressing in.
The accoutrement glowed.
“How can I help you, Faith?” a woman’s voice asked.
What the holy hell? His hands shook. “I am not Faith,” he whispered.
“I don’t know what that means. If you like, I can search the web for ‘I am not Faith,’” the woman said.
He looked wildly around for danger and saw only trees and the night. “Who are you?”
“I’m Siri. But enough about me…how can I help you?” She had a pleasant voice.
Was there a person in this device? “Where are you?” he croaked.
“Right here,” Siri said.
He coughed. This world was crazy. Reconnaissance was often tedious. Not in this new time, apparently. “I need to find Faith.”
“I’m sorry,” Siri said. Then she was quiet.
He tried to focus. “Okay. Where am I? Do you know?”
“You’re in Denver, Colorado,” Siri said. Suddenly, the glow turned into what appeared to be a map.
Oh, Lord. This was amazing. Siri knew where he was. He tried again. “Do you know where Faith is?”
“Which Faith?” Siri asked, and a list for three Faiths came up on the device.
“Faith Cooper,” he said, finding his Faith. A drawing, or maybe one of those pictures, was next to her name. He pressed on her face.
Siri beeped and then brought up the picture with other drawings. “Here is the contact information for Faith Cooper.”
What was all of this? “Can you take me to her?” he asked.
“Uh-oh, Faith Cooper doesn’t seem to have an address. Tap the name below if you’d like to add one,” Siri said.
His heart sank. An address? Maybe Faith had one in her possessions. He searched through the smaller bag, finding flat cards, currency, and some coins. A picture caught his eye, and he pulled out another card. This one had her picture, birthdate, and…an address. The Saints were with him, finally. He gave the address to Siri and a map came up on the screen.
How spectacular. But how could one keep investigations private if all information was this easily accessible? “You are of extreme help, Siri,” he murmured.
“I don’t really like these arbitrary categories,” she replied.
Oh. New vernacular. Interesting. Besides discovering the changes in the world, he needed to build alliances. He gathered Faith’s items and replaced them in her bag, turning to follow Siri’s directions to Faith’s address. “Siri? Are you an ally?”
“I don’t know the answer to that question,” she said.
He sighed. “Sure? Are you my friend?”
“What a question! Of course, I’m your friend,” she said.
It was comforting to have found a friend in this odd world. His strategic plan was coming together. “Have you heard of the Seven?”
“Interesting,” she said.
He nodded. She hadn’t heard of them. Good. So, it wouldn’t make sense to ask her who’d died. He’d felt their deaths, piercing and painful, while in the shield. Grieving had taken place alone, and wondering who was gone had nearly driven him mad. He had to find whoever was left.
Light was filtering over the looming dwellings, finally bringing dawn. Thank God. The sun killed the Kurjans, so they’d have to find cover for the day. Unless that had changed as well. Hopefully not.
His heart lightening, he moved out of the trees per Siri’s directions, pausing at one of the hard streets. “Siri? I require footwear.”
“Not a problem,” Siri said, and more maps appeared on the device. “Here are some nearby stores.”
“What is a store?”
Lights spun across Siri’s surface. “A store is a retail establishment that offers a range of consumer goods,” she said.
Stores? He’d have to borrow some of Faith’s currency. Once he found her with Siri’s help, he’d find a way to repay her. Surely his family had invested his holdings throughout the years. “Siri? Do you know the Kayrs family?”
“I’m sorry. I’m afraid I can’t answer that,” she said.
“I figured,” he muttered, running across the tough surface. One thing at a time. First, shoes. Then, Faith.
After that, he’d continue reconnaissance and then construct a strategy.
CHAPTER FOUR
Faith finished packing clothes in a bag, her work phone on speaker mode on the bed table. The lunatic had stolen her personal phone. “I’m fine, Louise. Stop worrying.” Truth be told, Ronan had actually handled her rather carefully. Except for the kidnapping and gun to the ribs part. “The guy even left the gun with me.”
“While stealing your purse.” Louise’s voice exploded through the speaker loud enough that both rescue cats jumped off the bed and made a beeline for the kitchen. “He has your address.”
Faith zipped the suitcase shut, only packing two pairs of leather boots and two sketchpads. Her biggest weaknesses: footwear and creating the perfect landscape. “I don’t think this guy could figure out a wallet, much less a driver’s license. But I’ve had two uniformed cops at my door all night just in case.” She wasn’t stupid, for Pete’s sake.
“I’m glad,” Louise sniffed. “I can head home right now if you need me.”
Faith sighed. “I’d forgotten you had that convention in Baltimore, to be honest. Just stay there. I’m going to the cabin and the sun is finally out, so it’ll be a nice drive. If I leave in an hour, I’ll arrive right before it gets dark.”
Louise made a sound of approval. “Good. You’re due a vacation, anyway. And the cabin can’t be traced easily to you, so that’s the perfect place for you to relax until the police catch this guy.”
Which was exactly why Faith was going there. “Agreed.”
“Just please don’t adopt any more animals. Let somebody else rescue a couple.”
Faith grinned. “You like that puppy I found for you.”
“Hmm. Speaking of dogs, was your kidnapper really that hot?” Louise asked.
Faith paused, remembering the hard planes and strong muscles of Ronan’s body. His stunning eyes and fierce jawline. “Yeah. The guy looked airbrushed. Twelve-pack and all.”
Louise sighed. “Why do the sexy ones always have to be nuts? Or brain injured?”
“Amen, sister.” Faith needed a break and it was time to head to the cabin. “Would you please check in with the women’s shelter when you get back? We had a couple of new intakes—one young and pregnant.” She volunteered at the battered women’s shelter every week.
“Of course. Do you need me to check in at the pound too?”
Faith grinned. ??
?No.”
“That’s because you probably already adopted another cat,” Louise said. “You’re a softie.”
Faith winced. “His name is Dick and it totally fits. He already ate two of my shoes.”
Louise chortled. “It’s lucky you have an apartment, or you’d have a million pets.”
Probably. Faith took a deep breath. “Okay. Good luck with your presentation. You’ll do great.”
“Thanks. Love you.”
“You, too.” Faith smiled as she clicked off the call. She and Louise had been assigned as roommates her freshman year in college, and they’d both majored premed and gone to medical school together. While Faith specialized in neurology, Louse had become a thoracic surgeon. Faith had two sisters in life, Grace and Louise. Someday maybe she’d be able to heal Grace so she could have a life again too.
Faith turned and called out for the cats. “Come on, guys. It’s time to load up.” A hissing came from the other room. Jeez. “Give me a break, Dick,” she muttered, taking her suitcase and lugging it into the small living room. Her eye caught on the photograph taken by her sister of the mountains during a rainstorm.
God, she missed her sister.
She shook off the sadness. “It’s time to go, cats.” The animals were hiding in the sparkling-clean kitchen to the far left. She hadn’t been able to sleep, so she’d cleaned all night. Now it was time to seek haven.
Stepping farther into the room, she paused. Instinct rose. She pivoted toward the balcony doors, her body going cold.
Two of the white-faced, black-uniformed lunatics stood there, even their heads covered. They’d both tossed hefty black umbrellas to the side and out of the way. One held a green gun pointed at her.
She gaped. The door was closed behind them. “How in the world?” she breathed. She was five floors up from the ground. How had they climbed that far, and why would they need umbrellas? The sun shone down without a cloud in the way. She edged toward the front door. Were the cops still out front?