ShiftingHeat (22 page)

Cathy coughed and blood stained her lips. He knew from the
sound that she didn’t have long. Sirens whined outside.

“Sweetheart, call an ambulance, then call Ann. My cell is in
my jacket pocket, downstairs and Ann’s private number is three on speed dial. Do
it now. Let the cops in when they knock. Act panicky and scared and be confused.
Cry.”

Faye raced off, only pausing to grab a navy satin robe from
a chair.

“Cathy? Answer me!”

She forced a smile. Blood trickled from the corner of her
mouth. Her eyes gleamed with a look he knew. Fanaticism. “Why are you with her?
You don’t think she’ll convert you, do you?”

He shook his head. “I’m falling in love with her.” He lied.
He was already there.

“She’ll take you and use you and abandon you.” Her voice was
thready and he had to put his ear almost against her mouth to hear what she was
saying.

“Is that what happened to you? Someone used you?”

The hammering at the door started. He ignored it.

She shifted but he held her down, flattening his hand
against her stomach, trying not to hurt her any more. He’d shot her in the
shoulder and the lungs. They might save her yet. “Stay still.”

“I wanted it, but he used me. Said he’d convert me and never
did.”

He remembered the vampire, Sergiu, talking about acolytes.
“Was it the vampire? Did you become a donor?”

Her lip curled in a sneer. “That idiot. His name is Harry
Johnson. He’s no more a vampire than I am.”

Andros thought she might be mistaken in that, but now wasn’t
exactly the time to question her word. “So who?” What an idiot for not
realizing sooner. “Harken Nordheim.”

She gave him a coy smile, gruesome considering her position
and the fact that blood decorated her features. “Some of us got to where Faye
wanted to with Harken.”

He couldn’t feel sorry for her. She’d tried to kill Faye.
“How did you know where to find her?”

“Been trailing her for years. He knew who she was. Told us.”

“Who? Harken?”

She closed her mouth, stared at him. Grinned. Took a breath
and said, “Him and his friend.” She blinked provocatively, then gasped. When
she coughed, a flood of gore streamed out of her mouth.

He did what he could within his limited knowledge of first
aid and stepped back when, a moment later, the paramedics arrived. But they’d
carry her out in a body bag.

Ann arrived, for once not immaculate, not perfect, but in
sweats, her hair rumpled, without makeup. Strange how a mind in shock noticed
things like that. She forced Andros to go downstairs and sit until the cops
arrived.

And of course it had to be Detectives Abrahams and Holstadt.
They were rumpled and disgruntled, but knowing the crazy hours detectives
sometimes worked, they could have been up all night. Sartorial elegance and
perfect manners would be the last thing on their minds, especially in these
circumstances.

It was getting on toward four a.m. now, and Andros was
feeling the effects of a long night that had started so well and ended so
disastrously. As the adrenaline rush melted away, his eyelids drooped and pain
spread over his body. A pain he recognized. Even though it was artificially
induced, it felt real enough. So when the detective started rattling out
questions, he groaned and asked for his pills before he realized they would
only make him worse. He already had his crutches, propped by the side of his
chair.

The reality of what had happened started to get to him. He
saw the tremor in his hand, recognized the cause was more than the drugs.
They’d put it down to his condition. Correction—two people in this room would
know. Ann Reynolds and Faye McCaulay. Two women who knew him almost as well as
he knew himself. He’d protected her and, ill or not, crippled or not, he could
do it.

Pride warmed his heart. Even in this condition, he’d taken
care of her.

He answered the questions numbly. The detectives probably knew
they were being given the runaround, but there was little they could do. Not
with Ann there, not with Faye using her psi to confuse them. He felt the tingle
and recognized it as hers. He was so proud of her.

Ann turned around, her back to the window, in full defiance
of anyone out there with a weapon who might still bear a grudge. She put her
hands on her hips. “Tell them, Andros. Just tell them.”

The paramedics had gone, bearing the bodies of Cathy and her
yet-to-be-identified male accomplice. Andros frowned up at Ann. “Everything?”

“They’ll have to know. We’re trying to be as open as we can.
If we can’t trust New York’s finest, what can we do?”

Andros had caught the swift exchange between Faye and Ann,
to the effect that Faye had read the cops and they appeared genuinely straight.
Or as straight as they could be, given their jobs and what they had to face
every day. New York had as much of the jungle about it as anything in the
depths of undiscovered Africa or South America. And was far more dangerous.

So he told them right from the start. “I’m a STORM employee.
I’m also a doctoral student at Speke University. So when STORM became aware of
an operation based at Speke that was targeting and kidnapping Talents, then selling
them illegally to unknown laboratories, I was asked to investigate. We
discovered Professor Harken Nordheim was involved, but he was murdered before
we could question him.”

He caught Abrahams staring at his crutches and had to
explain that too. He watched flickers of reaction cross their faces as he
explained the rest but refused to react to their “go on, surprise me”
challenge. How many people had they caught out that way?

Not him. He told his story and watched them as he told it,
leaving it to Faye to read them. She’d stop him if they showed any sign that
they meant him no good. But he never got any message, just gentle support from
her in the part of his mind they shared, deep down where nobody else could
touch. He appreciated it so much, hadn’t realized how much he’d missed
someone’s unstinting support. Ania still supported him, but she had a partner
now, and a different life.

So now they knew, now what?

Ann decided that for him. “Unless you make it impossible, I
want Andros to continue at the university, doing his job for STORM.”

They meekly agreed. Ann left her station by the window and
went to the door. “Nice place,” she said to Faye. “But you can’t come back here
until the operation is done. Consider Andros’ apartment your home. I’ll increase
your security clearance.”

Ironic that Faye got for nothing what she’d stolen from him
in the first place, but he couldn’t feel anything but glad that she could walk
in of her own free will. Ann had obviously decided she was no threat to STORM.

“I have to arrange to have the damage repaired.”

“I’ll see to it.” Ann walked toward the door. “And since I
want you both back at your posts tomorrow as if nothing had happened, you’d
better come with me now.”

Faye glanced at the cops. “Haven’t you done all you need tonight?”
Andros understood. This place was her sanctum where she revealed her inner
self. She’d even gone to the lengths of maintaining a fake address to keep her
privacy, and now all these people knew her secret and had invaded her private
space. His heart bled for her. He’d help her recreate that sense of peace and
relaxation that he’d first felt when he entered if it killed him.

Abrahams scratched his head. “I guess so. We’ll keep all
this under wraps for now, but we can’t promise you more than a few days before
we have to make it official.”

“I’ll liaise with your commanding officer. No need to
explain STORM’s involvement. Not yet. If necessary, we’ll arrange for an agent
to come in and liaise with you, but you’re investigating a murder, right?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Do you need to release the name of the victim right away?”

Abrahams frowned as if puzzled. “It’s not policy to release
any victim’s name until we have contacted the immediate family and informed
them.”

“Of course.” Ann and this seasoned officer understood each
other. Somehow, Andros knew the officers would have some difficulty contacting
Cathy’s immediate family. They were probably on their way to a surprise luxury
cruise in the Mediterranean right now. Or more likely, an adventure holiday in
the Arctic or up Mount Everest. That would make them even more inaccessible.

Ann would have a few days to establish liaison with the
department they worked for and bring them into the mission. Since STORM had, as
yet, no official standing and, if Ann had her way, would continue to be
independent, officers from the various government agencies were sometimes
brought in to work there. Abrahams and his colleague might find themselves
seconded to STORM. Andros wondered how they’d manage with the fantastical
Talents they’d find there. He suspected they’d take it in stride.

They left soon after the officers did, promising to update
Ann in their investigations. As they exited the building to climb into the SUV
Ann had brought, a shadowy figure slipped out of a nearby doorway and joined
Ann in the front of the car. Andros and Faye took the long backseat. Their
hands came together, fingers threaded and they linked.

A wave of exhaustion swept over Andros, but he had to rouse
himself because in a few hours he’d have to go in to the university. Without
looking around, Ann said, “This is Daria Szabó. She will be around to help you.
She’s a virgin Sorcerer, one of the most powerful I have available. She will
not be in the field with you, but in the office. Within range, or within her
range. Link with her now.”

All they could see of her was one long, dark plait, falling
down Daria’s back. When they hesitated, Daria turned around in her seat. “You
see, quite ordinary. Please do as Ann says.” She had a tinge of a middle
European accent. She possessed sharp features and fathomless dark eyes, or
maybe that was because of the uncertain light. Although New York had
illumination to spare, a shadow seemed to wreathe around this woman.

One look into her eyes and Andros knew he had no chance of
fighting this, even had he wanted to. He leaned his head back against the head
rest and relaxed.

Her presence in his mind came as warm and reassuring. He
expected that. He’d met more Sorcerers in the past year than he cared to
remember. They’d put him through a crash course in controlling his psi, and the
more the better, it seemed. He’d learned a little from most and a fuck of a lot
from Chase Maynord. But Chase was his friend and, unfortunately, absent right
now. This woman had an edge he’d never encountered before in a Sorcerer.
Danger, power, excitement—something. Something scary and otherworldly.

He didn’t have to like it. “I’m there.” She’d created a
communication channel. A way she could contact him and he could reach her, deep
down and exclusively theirs. Like the one he shared with Faye, but without the
emotional punch. She could use him as a channel too, to alter and influence
people. Persuade them, right up to the level of compulsion, which was banned.

He squeezed Faye’s hand, sent her friendship and
understanding. She opened her eyes. “Me too.” Then she turned her head and met
his gaze. They smiled. Simple friendship between lovers. Another new experience
for him.

Chapter
Ten

With long-nosed pliers in hand and his head half inside a
high-end computer case, Andros felt at peace. Like a monk meditating or a
scholar poring over an ancient tome, he communed with the object of his desire,
making the interior beautiful and neat. The new keyboard could be a great step
forward or it could tank, but it needed some internal adjustments before he
could try it out. Either way, right this moment, he was content. He thought of
nothing else except the clips he was carefully fitting. Maybe this was what
philosophers meant by living in the now. He didn’t have to consider yesterday,
or tomorrow or any other fucking thing.

He finished fitting the piece and backed up to admire his
work but smacked his head on the bench above him. He slumped back, feeling the
pain in his legs, pain he’d forgotten temporarily. And swore, long and loud.
“Fucking goddam fuck!”

Clapping his hand to his head, he glared at his crutches, turning
his head to avoid the obstruction when he got to his feet.

“Ah fuck!”

At first he thought the voice was some kind of weird echo, a
lighter response reflected back at him, but he saw a flash of bright-blonde
hair, a shining sheet of golden strands. He’d seen hair like that before
somewhere. Frowning, he called out. “Hey! Did you want something?”

The female figure in the doorway sighed. Her shoulders
lifted and fell in a resigned shrug. Then she turned around. “I thought there
was nobody in here. And I wanted my watch back. I knew I should have scanned
first.” She sighed and he cried out as a surge of power went through his head
and flashed through his body. “Go to sleep, Andros,” were the last words he
heard.

Faye stared at the stack of essays before her that she still
had to grade.
Measure for Measure
hadn’t inspired her students to new
flights of elegant argument. And how could she concentrate on this pile of—?

She almost welcomed her new cell phone ringing. She checked
the caller. Ann Reynolds. “Yes?”

“Faye, can you speak freely?”

“Sure.”

“I need you to come down to STORM. Right away, please.”

Surely she hadn’t caught a tremor in Ann’s tone? No, that
couldn’t be possible.

“Should I pick up Andros?”

“If you would.”

All the way to Andros’ lab, she worried. She’d never heard
that tone in Ann’s voice before, had always found her totally in control, never
fazed. It had to take a lot to worry her.

Andros wasn’t there. But he’d definitely been there, the
open computer case and the unfastened cables attested to that. She felt his
presence, a lingering essence, much like a whiff of cologne after its owner had
left. She wanted to stay to enjoy it, to wait for him, but he’d probably taken
an early lunch. Maybe he was on his way to find her. She smiled and pulled out
her cell. After texting him a message to say she was leaving early and she’d
see him at home, “home” in this case being code for STORM, she left, toting her
briefcase full of essays.