Revelations: Book One of the Lalassu (31 page)

He smoothed his oiled hair, his thousand-watt politician’s smile beaming at full power. “Persuasion is always more powerful than force. My mother taught me that.”

He’d done something to her at the police station—tried to cloud her mind. But she’d shrugged it off. Vincent and Eric should have been able to do the same. They must be playing along to protect Gwen. But the three of them together could surely take out one posturing sack of bullshit and beat him to the ground. She kept silent, trying to read her brothers’ signals. Eric slumped and hung his head in defeat and Vincent seemed oblivious.

“She worked a similar job as you, back in the day. She took pride in it, said it gave her access to some of the most powerful men in the country.” Dalhard took a healthy swig of the drink he’d poured from the bar. “It was only a matter of time before she persuaded one to marry her. Quite the romance story: stripper with a heart of gold marries wealthy businessman.”

“Touching, yet boring,” Dani sauntered through the office as if looking around. It brought her closer to Eric.

Dalhard continued. “I’m telling you this so you won’t worry about me looking down on you because of your former profession.”

Former? Look down?
His brazen arrogance reminded her of dozens of preening alpha males, all believing they were entitled to whatever they wanted, regardless of who it hurt. The young lords of the football field from college, the drunken tourists who thought a girl showing a little skin entitled them to a free grope. Dalhard was no different from any of them. He just had more money to back up his desires.

Dalhard continued his monologue. “With my mother’s help, my father turned his profitable shipping enterprise into a multinational corporation with a dozen different businesses under our umbrella. She always told me it would be mine—that my father wouldn’t stand in my way. He was quite the fool. Searching for supernatural powers everywhere and never recognizing the ones in his own home.”

Eric kept shaking his head as she got closer. Keeping her body angled so Dalhard couldn’t see, she tried to signal him to join her attack. Behind him, she could see Vincent watching the conversation as if it were a slightly dull movie on TV. Michael and the others must have Bernie by now, and she didn’t want to listen to one more second of Dalhard’s narcissistic droning. “I’ve heard about your dad. I’d like to have a word with him.”

“Sadly, he died in a convenient yet tragic car accident once I was ready to take over.” Dalhard poured another drink and held it out to her.

“That’s a pretty big chunk of information to toss out there. Mom was a stripper and you killed dear old Dad.” Dani breathed in carefully. Still no fear. “You’re not worried about me knowing. Why?”

“Because you will be my partner, and a husband should never have secrets from his wife. Bad for the relationship.”

His wife? This guy was further down the road to Crazytown than she’d thought. The possibility was laughable. If only she didn’t smell a sharp spike of fear from Eric, as if this loon actually had the power to enforce his delusion. Time to end this. “Sorry, already taken. And speaking of taken, I’ll be taking my brothers home with me now.”

“What makes you think I’ll let them go?” Dalhard smiled as if her words were terribly amusing.

“What makes you think I’m giving you a choice? This isn’t audience participation, and you have no chance of stopping me,” Dani retorted.

“Perhaps not. But I do believe he does.” Dalhard pointed behind her.

She turned just in time to see Vincent’s fist flying toward her face.

Chapter Forty-Two

Michael wanted to stop and make sure Dani was all right, but Joe and Nada both hustled him along, pulling him out of sight of the lobby cameras. He didn’t like her playing the part of bait. Maybe it was his inner caveman, but letting her go into danger without him felt wrong. The fact that she was entirely capable of dealing with a physical threat didn’t matter.

Watching her engulfed in flame still haunted him, even if it had been in a mystical dream-space. The only thought that floated to coherence during his mental agony had been that he encouraged her. If she died, it would be his fault. After their rude awakening, he couldn’t stop himself from touching her, reassuring himself on every primal level. It had often moved past simple reassurance—a memory that quirked his lips and brought a stirring to his groin. Joe shot him a warning look, tapping his eye to indicate Michael needed to focus.

He nodded, repeating to himself that he had a job to do and a vital role to play. Now that he was here, it seemed much less James Bond glamorous than before. He faced the reality of being in Dalhard’s stronghold and trying to take away people the man had worked very hard to procure. They all knew Dalhard was dangerous. If he found them, he wouldn’t launch into a monologue or create an improbably complex villainous scheme. He wouldn’t hesitate to kill them all, including Joe. He’d take away Dani and Bernie and make them vanish into European shadows.

Michael couldn’t deny a certain high of geeky enthusiasm in spite of his worries. This was the situation he had always dreamed of. Being the hero. Saving the girl. All the girls: Bernie, Gwen, and Dani.

It was the right decision to bring Joe in
, he repeated to himself. Dalhard needed to be taken down publicly, in a court of law. It was the only way to keep everyone safe. But if Joe were caught, this could be a career-ending moment or worse—a life-ending moment. Michael could only hope that breaking open a massive kidnapping operation would be enough for Joe’s superiors to overlook any questions about the chain of evidence.

“You know where this girl is?” Joe asked quietly as they climbed the stairs. His gun gleamed softly in the dim lighting.

“Third floor. Room 3-52,” Michael answered.

“Too much talking. I can only do cameras, not voices,” Nada said, hushing them.

The door to the third floor had an electronic keypad. Nada stared at it for a moment, and it popped open without a sound. Joe made a faint sound of dismay but recovered quickly. Michael hid a smile at his friend’s discomfort. It was nice not to be the only one facing world-changing information.

The third floor was empty, built for industry instead of intimidation: linoleum flooring and dull gray doors lining the hall stretching the length of the building. Cameras stared down at regular intervals, red lights gleaming in the artificial dusk. He trusted Nada would do her part and crept along as silently as he could.

To his surprise, Bernie’s door was unlocked. But even if it hadn’t been, the latch for the deadbolt was on the exterior, making it easy to open and telling Michael far too much about the intentions of those who designed this place. Once inside, he saw she was curled up under the thin blanket, whitened knuckles clutching the teddy bear he’d given her. She looked exhausted, dark bruises under her eyes. Michael knelt down beside her, stroking her hair. Immediately he sensed Bernie’s despair and fear. A deep sense of abandonment sucked at her energy. She didn’t even bother opening her eyes to see who had come.

“Bernie always likes this song,” he whispered. “But Michael always sings it wrong.”

The child’s eyes fluttered open in surprise, and she smiled, whispering. “Are you really here? Or is this a dream?”

“I’m really here. I’m going to take you home to your mommy. She misses you.” Michael sensed Bernie’s bone-deep exhaustion pulling at her efforts to stay awake. He wondered if she’d been drugged to keep her quiet during Dalhard’s trap.

“She’ll need some warmer clothes for outside,” Nada instructed. Joe stepped inside and grabbed the sweatpants and top from the chair beside Bernie’s bed.

“Chuck said something big happened. He wasn’t sure you would come,” Bernie said quietly, clinging tightly to Michael.

“I promised I would. And I’m sorry I didn’t understand Chuck was real before. He helped me to find you. He’s a real hero.” Michael picked Bernie up, grateful for the pressure of her thin arms around his neck. Triumph left his worries far below as his spirit soared. “Let’s get out of here, Bernie-pie.”

“What do they have her on?” Joe asked.

“No idea. Hopefully it’ll wear off with time.” Michael couldn’t help wondering if Dani was okay. He’d heard her ask Joe to watch his back. It still made him smile. She might want to portray the consummate devil-may-care badass, but he knew how much she cared about her family, about him, about doing what was right, no matter the cost. Neither of them had many illusions about the world—she’d asked Joe to keep him safe because they both knew the danger.

“Where are the others?” Joe closed the door carefully behind them.

“3-20—”

Michael’s reply was cut off by a ragged shout from another room. “Hey!”

A man popped out from another room further down the hall. He should have looked ridiculous in old sweatpants and a T-shirt, but something about him demanded respect. “What are you doing with her!”

“Hi, Ron,” Bernie breathed softly. “These are my friends.”

Ron did not seem to be convinced.

“It’s true,” Michael added hastily. “We’ve come to get her out. Take her home.”

The man’s expression softened immediately. “You’re the friends she told me about. I’m Corporal Ron McBride, army.”

“Michael Brooks.” Michael hastily introduced everyone. “You can come with us, but we have to get Dani’s brothers out, too.”

“But they’re not here,” Bernie murmured sleepily. “Chuck says they went downstairs.”

Downstairs. Their simple rescue plan suddenly got a lot harder. Michael took a deep breath. “Did Chuck say anything else?”

“Mmm-hmmm. He said I had to be careful because the bad guys used plastic to make the building go boom,” Bernie yawned. “And Mr. Dalhard is mean. He makes your mind go funny when he touches you.”

“They’ve wired the building with plastic explosive.” Ron paled. “Did they know you were coming?” Nada and Joe’s breath hissed out in identical exhalations.

“Yes. No. Sort of. It’s a long story. Is there anyone else here?” Michael demanded.

“No one on this level. But they were holding me in a cell in the basement before.”

Horrible, guilt-ridden inspiration struck Michael. “Bernie, is Chuck here?”

Bernie nodded against his shoulder.

“Can you ask him to go to the basement and see if there’s anyone down there. And then can he find Dani? The lady I was with? Can he find her and her brothers and come back and tell us where they are and what’s happened?” He hated questioning her like this, hated using a child for her gifts the same way her captors had. But he needed to know, and his available resources were limited.

“He’ll do it,” Bernie whispered.

“We should get out of the building as quickly as possible.” McBride spoke the last words so quietly that Michael barely heard them.

“It’s a plan.” Michael shifted Bernie in his arms. How long did it take for a ghost to search a building? Could Chuck find them again if they started down the stairs? Michael wished he’d taken the time to ask before sending him away.

“We need to get moving. Get the corporal and Bernie to the car.” Joe’s fingers were flexing against the handle of his gun.

“Chuck says there isn’t anyone else in the basement and the lady is with her brothers,” Bernie announced suddenly. “He says we should go.”

“Smartest plan I’ve heard all week,” Nada muttered.

They ran for the stairs, not bothering to worry about silence. Michael huffed under Bernie’s weight. “Nada, you take them to the car, get them safe.”

“They’ll see you,” she warned.

“I have to warn Dani about the explosives.” The original plan called for her to lure Dalhard outside, but if he suspected they were about to leave, he might blow the building for a pyrrhic victory.

“No! I want to stay with you!” Bernie clung to him.

“Bernie, I have to go and save the other people here, too.” He held her tight, trying to reassure her.

“From the mean man?” she whimpered.

“Yes. He’s a very bad man and he’s trying to hurt a lot of people.”

“Then you have to stop him.” He could feel the moment she accepted it. For her, this was as clear as any story. Michael was a hero, and heroes saved people.

“Let me take her,” Ron offered.

Michael reluctantly handed her over. “Bernie, can you ask Chuck what the lady and her brothers are doing?”

Bernie glanced up a few steps. “He says they’re fighting.”

“Who’s fighting?” Michael asked.

“The lady and her brothers,” she yawned.

“Who are they fighting? Guards?” he demanded.

Bernie looked again at the empty patch of air before shaking her head. “No. Each other.”

“Vincent, what the hell!” Dani ducked his punch. Barely. His knuckles grazed the side of her cheek.

“I’m not going back to hiding and running!” Vincent roared, swinging at her again, his dark eyes flaring in a definite disconnect with reality.

Eric jumped at Vincent, trying to pin him down. But Vincent twisted out of Eric’s grasp, dropping to the floor. “Vincent, you’re not thinking straight. He’s done something to you—”

“Figured it out, did you?” Dalhard interrupted Eric’s plea, wrapping his hands around Eric’s head. “I thought you might have succumbed a little too easily.”

Dani charged at the two of them, planning on knocking Dalhard aside.

Vincent apparently objected to her plan. He leapt off the floor and tackled her.

“Don’t hurt her, Vincent,” Dalhard cautioned, his fingers biting deeply into Eric’s skin. Eric hung limply from the grasp, his face blank. Dani’s horror stiffened her muscles.

“You got it, boss.” Vincent used his weight to pin her to the floor.

Dani struggled but couldn’t get the leverage to get free. “Let him go!” she screamed.

“He’s quite stubborn and needs persuading. Doing it this way will temporarily scramble his memory and make him incapable of doing anything without my permission. I prefer not to use this level of persuasion but it is occasionally necessary.” Dalhard released Eric, who dropped to the ground as if tranquilized.

Dani remembered the horrible sensation when he’d touched her in the police station. He was a
lalassu
who hunted and abused his own kind. The thought of him crawling inside her brain, turning her into some kind of remote control toy gave Dani renewed determination.

“It needn’t be permanent. But I can’t allow him to disrupt our plans together.” The condescending bastard smiled, like he thought he was being soothing. “Eventually his mind will wear itself out and submit to my control. I’ll renew the persuasion as often as necessary until it happens.”

He’d do it to her, too. Make her into a plaything. Trap her worse than the Huntress could ever have done. She wouldn’t even have the freedom of her own mind.

“I see you understand.” Dalhard stepped over Eric’s body to tap on a side door.

“You’ll see, Dani. It’s everything we wanted,” Vincent said, his weight shifting slightly off her.

Dani took advantage, twisting her fingers to reach Vincent’s inner thigh, right above the knee. And pinched. Hard.

Vincent yelped and jumped in an involuntary reaction. Dani rolled and used her elbow to smash his face on the way out. Coming up, she saw the red drip of blood slashing across her brother’s mouth. He glared at her, rubbing his leg and nose ineffectually.

“Very impressive,” Dalhard smirked. “Vincent, hold her.”

Her brother launched himself at her. Dani steadied herself and timed her reaction. There would only be one shot at this.

Vincent’s weight was forward, well ahead of his feet. Fully committed to his attack, he had no option to dodge or change plans.