The handcuffs weren't much deterrent to the Amazon's fighting skills. She'd turned them into an asset, and Jaden had to work to avoid immediate strangulation.
She spun, bringing their faces so close Jaden could smell the copper on her breath. She was in deep with this one. Buying an ounce of time, she snuck her fingers between the Amazon's crushing arm and her throat. Gulping air like a drowning woman, she made a dive to the floor.
Pressed between steel floor and juiced Amazon, Jaden didn't have the luxury of strategy. She whipped her head up and back. The crack of bone to cartilage, the squish of blood, the Amazon's outraged shriek blended into a sweet symphony. Jaden tucked her chin and rolled, escaping the shocked Amazon and shooting to her feet.
They squared off, each re-assessing the other. Blood dripped from Amazon's smashed nose, but her eyes still glinted with relentless determination.
When she lunged, Jaden was ready.
The dagger slid neatly between Amazon's ribs, her momentum pushing her body onto the blade. Her lung pierced, she choked on her own blood as she bled out at the feet of her men.
She steadied herself, wiping the blade on her pants before sheathing the knife. Her hands were steady, though her soul quaked with the burden of taking a female life for the first time.
"Okay." She came back to Mr. Talkative. "You were saying?"
* * *
"A better egress," Brian said to his reflection. They should have planned a rendezvous time and place. His mind roamed back to the recent hours in the suite.
How quickly things change. Only yesterday he'd itched to return here, to his home, and all the comforts that implied. Today, with Albertson waiting out front, he thought he might suffocate from the familiar. Or be crushed by the weight of his formal uniform.
He tucked his cell card into an inside pocket and was halfway to the door when a better idea occurred. If even remotely possible, she'd be at Larry's funeral. If she knew about it. A lot of ifs. He turned back anyway and gathered his best tracking equipment from his secret stash. Then he went to resume the charade of a man mentored by greatness.
Sliding into the judge's car, he had to wonder at the irony of attending a funeral with the devil himself. If he could only have one more night with Jaden in that damned suite. One more night with her anywhere. If she lived through whatever she was doing on that train, he'd tell her everything.
Everything.
Chapter Twelve
Time Stamp: 1826
The sheriff halts between me and the lifeless body on the floor. I can feel his suspicions as if they are my own. Can't blame him. Who wouldn't suspect a female able to remain upright in the middle of such a horrifying sight?
A purpled, strained face and a vivid red ring above the clerical collar leaves no room to doubt the cause of death. Strangulation. The strap in my hand leaves no room for defense.
"Death was too good for him."
"No, Sarah! Take it back. He's a man of God. He founded this orphanage."
The sheriff's plea is lost on me. As are the growing voices crying out for my hanging. They don't understand what he was. Is. He fooled them all. All but me and the little girl cowering in the pantry.
"Hanging suits me fine."
The sooner the better. I already know my fate and my failure. And I don't want to be so far behind this infernal race next time.
Chicago: 2096
By sheer will, Jaden continued to put one foot in front of the next. Her hip ached and was seeping blood again. If she ever saw Brian again, he'd be ticked she messed up his fine work.
If she ever saw Brian again.
The sound of that rib-cracking blow echoed in her ears. She'd left him to deal with the beating on his own. It was the only choice, she reminded herself. The women had no one else. Brian was a big boy. Capable. Inventive.
To keep her sanity, she tried reaching Cleveland again. Finally he answered.
She explained her location. "Can you pick me up?"
"Sure. Hang tight."
As if there were options. She used the time to link up with trustworthy security contacts in Michigan and Illinois to assist the escapees and the engineer's family. The to-do list complete, she tried to empty herself of the sensory overload.
"Someone call a cab?" Cleveland asked upon arrival. He brought her to her feet and opened the door for her.
She looked up into his face, kissed him full on the mouth and then slid into the passenger seat. Cars were still cars, but this was a treasure. "How'd you rate a 1957 Chevy?"
He smirked. "I like the classics."
"Must've cost a fortune to replace the old gas engine."
"Worth it. You know about cars. About history," he added cryptically.
"And you know a lot about the street," she dodged. "What can you tell me about disappearing girls? Under twelve."
"Chicago streets are riddled with underfed, disadvantaged folks of all ages who go missing all the time."
"Cleve," she pleaded, "everyone trusts you. Talks to you. Help me out."
He slowed to accommodate the heavier traffic funneling into the toll lanes as they neared the city.
"I wouldn't hold out like that from you."
"You've never mentioned your home. Or this cool ride."
"They call it bitter for a reason, girl," he teased. "About disappearing kids...there's not much to be heard." He paused while the machine scanned the tag on his window. "What've you been told?"
"There's a standing weekly order for girls under twelve. A guy dubbed 'the accountant' runs supply and demand numbers. All outgoing shipments originate in Chicago."
He moved through the barricade and resumed cruising speed. "That's myth-quality bullshit. No one could keep that quiet."
"Girls are snagged from all over."
He shook his head. "Still. They have to come in. Someone would notice."
"The Judge could pull it off."
"Y'know, I've always been a history buff. A sucker for a good legend. When my sister died–when I was branded, those events made me curious."
She wondered if Brian had been right and Cleveland was repeating life till he got it right. She wondered when she'd get it right.
"My curiosity got me into trouble. My wits got me out. Out of trouble I had more time to research the things that satisfy my curiosity."
"And," she demanded, impatient and tired.
"I searched the infinity symbol."
As had she.
"I found an interesting correlation in several not so recent crimes."
As had she.
"It seemed like Albertson was copycatting older criminals. Then I met you and things you said, reactions you had made me–"
"Curious," she finished for him. "And you researched me too. Found correlations that shouldn't be there."
"Nope. I just rifled your place a couple times." He winked. "I only lifted the one picture. You should keep better track of your secrets, girlfriend."
Jaden shifted in the seat, needing to see his reaction. "You believe in reincarnation?"
"In a few select instances. I don't know how or why, but I believe you are different. Your police chief too."
"You might mention that to him next time you meet." Why deny it? She was too tired to fabricate any sort of believable disclaimer anyway. "Why did you suggest a partner?"
"Everyone can use help. Even you."
She studied her hands, feeling mulish. "Brian makes me feel stronger." It even sounded stupid to her ears.
"See?" He smiled gently. "You're used to being the urban legend. The tough broad no one gets close to." A block from his home, he turned into a dilapidated parking garage. "If a person knows how to unravel it and weave the ends together. There's been three entangled in this battle for a long time."
"I know that," she snapped.
He continued blandly. "The third wasn't me." He posed a pout. Then winked. "I wanted you to keep an eye out."
"So you must know what I've been doing wrong. What I can't find."
"Best I can tell, seeing how I've only lived once, is you're bitter."
The Judge had said as much. But bitterness kept her sharp, kept her focused and enabled her to kill when needed without hesitation. And the judge would never give her anything helpful.
"I don't think full victory rests in your weapon searches. I think the key's in you. What's the only thing you've never done?"
"How should I know? I have memories, but can anyone truly have full recall?"
"Bitter," he pointed out.
"Annoyed," she corrected. Exhaustion threatened and she gladly climbed out of the car. If she could sleep, she'd be out for hours. But it wouldn't be restful. It would be hours plagued by the nightmares of little girls headed to doomed lives, or worse. Little girls in need of saving. "I don't need riddles, I need answers. I have to find them Cleveland. And then I have to stop him."
"You will. After you're rested it'll be easier."
"If I could get a location, make an ID, they'll have to put him away."
"Will those other women come forward?"
"They'll speak with one of my connections and he'll hold the record until needed."
"Larry's funeral is today," Cleveland said as they entered his apartment. "Graveside service at sunset in the Southside Cemetery."
Jaden shifted her aching body. Laid her fingers over the bruising imprint of the Amazon's hand on her neck.
"Thought I missed it," she replied, shifting again to stare out the window. "Where are the kids?"
"Game room. Quit dodging. We'll go together."
"With the kids? Dressed like this?"
"Clothes don't matter and a couple more hours alone won't faze Quinn and Katie, they're safe here."
"How's that working out?"
"I love it. I think they're happy. It's great to have someone to share all this."
Someone ought to be happy, she groused. She'd given up on the golden family at the end of her rainbow. Hell, she'd given up on rainbows. But she said, "They're good kids."
Cleveland combed through her hair with his fingers. "You've been through hell and back. We'll skip it."
"Drop the reverse psychology crap. We'll go."
"You'll be recognized unless we disguise you."
"No more disguises." Jaden made up her mind. "It's past time to commune with the living. A few of them should be there." She had a question or two about the legalities before she brought kidnapping charges against the judge for the women on the train. Maybe the threat would scare him enough to tell her where the young girls were stashed.
"Forget I brought it up. The cemetery will be crawling with cops. You'll get hauled in for violating the house arrest order."
"No house, no arrest?" she offered.
"Too lame."
"We'll just stay in the background. I'll just jog by–"
"Jogging in a cemetery?"
"Less traffic. More people should try it. Give me a ball cap and I'm set."
Cleveland grumbled, but he knew when not to argue with her. "Fine, but no fighting. You've been through enough today."
"Yes, Dad."
"Clean yourself up and we'll go."
Cleveland called a cab service, in the interest of keeping a low profile and respecting her revulsion of the el. After a brief word with the kids, they met the cab and headed out.
"You okay?" Cleveland asked at the cemetery gate.
"No." She croaked and swallowed a sob. "But I'll manage."
"It's natural to miss him, but you didn't kill him."
"Didn't I? He was responding to an alarm I set."
"Oh, that's right. The man only did his job, only took real risks when you were involved."
Jaden felt a shaky smile curve her mouth. "I can always count on you for perspective." Her legs finally moved willingly, carrying her to the people milling around at the graveside.
Larry's will specified no viewing, no wake, no visitation. Music began soft and subtle, then grew into a livelier tune. The faces around her began to smile. It was perfect music for reminiscing about a man people thoroughly enjoyed.
Jaden stayed on the fringe, much as she'd lived so many of her lives. Closing her eyes, she tipped her head toward the one white puff of cloud in the wide sky. I miss you. I'll probably see you soon. Well, with her record, probably not.
"Well look at this. I've never seen so many bodies come back to life at a funeral."
Loomis.
Prepped for the worst, she had to try. "I wanted to talk with you."
"Get the hell outta here."
She blinked and stepped away, swallowing her own sharp grief. "I'm sorry for your loss."
He just kept bearing down on her. "Get out before I haul you in."
"For what, surviving a hit?"