Guardian (33 page)

But the man did something unexpected. He reached to the ground and lifted a butterfly into his hands. Palm flat, he studied the insect. With a fingertip he nudged it to the edge of his hand until the butterfly tumbled downward. He caught it; this time its wings spread to show the injury that kept it from flight.

Nikki squeezed her eye shut, willing the man into motion. Smash it, her mind screamed. Smear it on your pant leg or grind it into the dirt, anything to make me able to do this!

But he didn’t. Her eye opened when he carried the butterfly toward her and sat the wounded creature in the crook of a tree.

It was such a human thing to do, and it turned her inside out.

Her teeth clenched. She hated herself for not being able to get vengeance on the man who took her world. A stupid, stupid wounded butterfly was all that kept her from pulling the trigger. And not pulling the trigger was all that kept her from hell.

As the man got in his Hummer and drove away, Nikki sat down in the grass and cried until nerves that had been taut with adrenaline and fear melted into emptiness.

Several minutes passed, but she remained there with the sounds of the forest blanketing her. Strange that she felt no fear now that the man was gone. But the whine of a far-off engine triggered her attention, and she brushed the tears from her face as if an approaching vehicle meant she’d be caught in her moment of frailty.

The small white car approached slowly. She craned her neck and watched it entering the park from a different road. The vehicle doused its lights, and she had to chuckle. Like anyone wouldn’t see the glowing white car on a surprisingly bright halfmoon night. It slowed to a crawl, so excruciating she wanted to scream at the driver, It’s all clear, he’s gone.

This was no expert bad guy.

After an eternity, the man stopped the car and eased the door open. Dressed in a long coat and a misshapen hat, he approached the trash can like it would explode if he moved too suddenly.

He looked of average build. And something about his gait seemed familiar to her.

He dug in the bin like a hobo, then came up fast, eyes darting in all directions. Halfway back to the car he broke into a run, and the added momentum coupled with a bit of wind stripped the hat from him. His hand clamped onto his head, trying to grasp what had already escaped. The man spun around, ran a few steps toward the hat, then stopped, his feet doing a confused little dance as he turned and headed to the car again.

But Nikki felt as if her platelets congealed, stopping her systems and shutting them down. No oxygen entered her lungs, and she didn’t feel strong enough to encourage any. Because from fifty yards above, Nikki stared down into the eyes—not the face, not the body, but certainly the eyes—of her father.

It took several breaths before she could process what she’d seen. It wasn’t her dad. Her dad was dead. And the man’s body size and facial structure were all wrong. But he had her dad’s eyes. Bile rose in her throat as her mind concocted gruesome scenarios inside Omega’s laboratory, and all the horrific things that must go on there.

But this wasn’t like that. The guy looked like a … relative … of her father’s. A brother or a cousin, maybe. Which was impossible, because her parents didn’t have any relatives. Or did they? Vessler knew her parents well enough to know every detail of her life. And he was tied to the man in the yellow Hummer, and the man in the Hummer killed the scientist as well as shot her mom and dad. Vessler had manipulated her life. And in doing so, maybe he’d forced her parents to deny her the rest of her family.

Every trail led back to Vessler. Nikki’s hatred stirred. Seeing the man run to the trash bin like a mouse hoping for a few morsels of food made her despise Vessler even more. She hadn’t been able to kill the man in the Hummer. But she was certain of one thing. It would be her pleasure to pull the trigger on Vessler. As soon as possible.

Nikki waited until the car was gone before she stood. She stretched, ignoring the pain in her body, and reached down to pick up the gun before starting the long walk back to town. When she took the first step, her eyes focused on something in the dirt. At the edge of her shoe, the butterfly lay dead.

She walked a lonely stretch of road with only the moon to guide her. A small green sign assured she’d gone in the right direction. Halfway back to Vessler’s house, a pick-up pulled over.

A door opened and a young man stepped out. “Hey, are you all right?”

Nikki kept moving forward, closing the distance.

“Are you okay? Did you have an accident or something?” She watched him look beyond her, searching for a car. “Did you break down?”

Purposeful steps carried her onward, ignoring the tension in his tone.

“Nikki, is that you?” His words loosened with more than a little relief.

She recognized the voice from somewhere far away. Red taillights shined in her eyes, making his figure appear tall and broad, cartoonish. She didn’t answer, but kept moving toward him. Her steps neither slowed nor sped.

He stopped a few yards away. “It’s Michael, from school.” He lifted his hands and dropped them. “What are you doing out here?”

She continued her approach and didn’t stop until they were face-to-face. She searched his eyes, the curious bend of his mouth. Had Vessler sent him? Her gaze narrowed.

No. He’d approached weaponless, yet she had a handgun strapped to her shoulder. Besides, Vessler didn’t know he was being hunted.

His eyes trailed to the holster. “Are you … okay?”

Fear and concern laced his voice. Concern for her, or for himself now that he knew she was armed. Her hand covered the weapon. He’d asked a question. What was it?

“Nikki, are you okay?”

His gaze was split between her face and her hand, now petting the gun in the holster. The metal felt cool to her fingertips.

“Your car break down?” he asked.

Her mouth started to form the word no, but her voice had slipped away in the night. She shook her head.

He offered a nervous smile. “That thing loaded?”

Her eyes fanned down to it. Was it loaded? She couldn’t remember loading it, but it was ready for Vessler’s lackey, so it must have been. Then she remembered clicking the button to red. “Safety’s on,” she mumbled.

This seemed to satisfy him. He offered a hand. “Come on, I’ll take you wherever you’re headed.”

She climbed into the cab of his pick-up.

“I was camping down on Bull Shoals,” Michael said.

She glanced over her shoulder to the back of his truck: camping gear, a cooler, lanterns, and a stack of firewood. “That’s good,” she said.

He gave her a long look with brow raised. “Uh, yeah. It was good. Where to?”

“Damon Vessler’s mansion at the edge of town.”

“So, the girl can string an entire sentence together. I was starting to wonder.” He’d relaxed. Heart rate slowed, breathing normal, scent of fear and confusion leaving him. I really am a freak.

“It wasn’t a sentence.”

“Huh?”

“No verb. It was a fragment.”

Michael nodded.

“And stop looking at me like I’m crazy.”

“Sorry, Nikki.” He nodded toward the gun. “You just don’t find a lot of hot teenage girls walking alone late at night with a handgun.” He laughed. “Well, there was that dream I had once, but uh, I’m pretty sure stuff like that doesn’t happen.”

It settled into her bones how far she’d sunk, the depths of melancholy she’d disappeared into. After tonight, there was no going back to so many things. Least of all school and friends. Yes, she’d graduated early, but that didn’t exempt her from football games, bowling nights, pizza and movies. Why hadn’t she appreciated those opportunities when she possessed them? Nikki dropped her head to the dashboard. Why was she always so busy telling Krissy no, like all that stuff was beneath her, when right now she’d trade her Ducati for a night with friends and laughter and fun. And really, wasn’t she trading much more for much less? Revenge wouldn’t fill the hole in her heart. At best, it was a rotten patch filled with too many faults to be useful for long.

She was doing exactly what Vessler had taught her.

The truck seat squeaked as Michael reached over and patted her shoulder. She felt the closeness of his hand as it hovered above her back. But he didn’t touch her again, must have decided against it.

As instructed, he dropped her off a block from Vessler’s house. “Do you have any blankets in the back?” she asked as Michael opened the door for her.

“Sure. A sleeping bag and a quilt.”

Without asking why, he fumbled around the bed of the truck and held them out to her.

She took the sleeping bag. “I can pay you for it.”

He placed his hand over hers. “Don’t worry about it.” He grabbed a small pillow from the bed and rested it on top of the sleeping bag in her hands. The motion brought him close, and her eyes locked with his. “Nikki, I’ve always admired you. Wow, that sounded cheesy, didn’t it?”

Admired her?

He nervously brushed a hand through his hair. “If you need some help …”

Her feet carried her a step back, head shaking, steamrolled by his words and the honest offer in them. She’d prefer to deny it, but there it was. Undeniable humanity in all its glory. She skittered farther away.

“Okay, okay.” Michael held his hands out in surrender. “Just … Well, if you need anything, give me a call. Maybe my dad could do something to help.”

Nikki’s heart sank. His dad. The sheriff. She’d just had the sheriff’s son drive her to her crime scene. “I don’t need any help,” she said, but her hands had tightened on the sleeping bag and pillow.

He nodded, studied her with sheriff’s son’s eyes, and finally gave a tiny smile. “Well, if you need me to do anything for you, my number’s on the tag on the sleeping bag.” He turned to walk around the truck.

“Michael, wait.” Such a pathetically weak little voice. He stopped and rested a hand on the bed liner.

“Promise me you’ll do one thing.”

“Okay.”

“Tomorrow morning after ten o’clock, tell your dad you gave me a ride here and I took your sleeping bag, okay?”

He stared up the hill at Vessler’s house for a long time. “Any thing else?”

No. But she heard herself saying, “Then go to the Victorian house on Pine Boulevard and let them know …” Let them know what? “Tell them everything is going to be okay. Tell Mace …” But no more words came. Her throat squeezed and pinched them off. Besides, there were no words that could express what she felt, and nothing that could excuse her actions. She shook her head. “Scratch that last part.”

“All right, Nikki.”

“Promise you’ll wait until morning, late morning.”

He crossed his arms.

“Promise!”

“I promise.” He headed to the driver’s door. “Don’t get into any trouble, Nikki.”

Into trouble? Oh, she couldn’t possibly get into more than she was already. She painted on a cheery smile. “I won’t.” As an afterthought. “I promise.” And the lie didn’t even taste bad on her lips.

She slept curled up in a corner of the garage, with the scent of tires and grease keeping her company. She wouldn’t dare try to do anything to Vessler at his house. Too many bodyguards and servants, too much could go wrong. She’d have to follow him. And this morning—with a shipment of whatever coming in— was the perfect opportunity. After all, he’d told the Hummer driver there was no threat.

She wouldn’t be able to hide in his vehicle, because he had three different cars he could choose depending on his mood. She’d follow on her Ducati. Good thing she’d tossed that whole “drive it into a lake” thought. What had changed her course of action? Oh yes, finding the man who killed her parents while visiting her so-called godfather.

Vessler appeared in the garage, and her heart started kicking against her ribs. She was hidden from sight, and he seemed to be alone. He chose the red Porsche, and it was all she could do not to plug him right there.

She followed from a safe distance until they reached a small airfield about thirty miles from town. The shipment must have come in by plane. Near a white metal hanger, a tractor trailer rig sat at the ready. A dark cargo plane—looking like something that belonged to the army—sat at the base of a landing strip as if it were ready to take off again. Vessler was alone. No one had come with him, and from what she could tell, no one was meeting him.