The Dark Gate (22 page)

One by one, the voices inside his head dropped away until only one remained. A deep male voice he recognized as clearly as his own.
“Hello, son.”

T
he police van rumbled through the city streets, Larsen and a crowd of young women packed into the dark van like cattle. Streetlights flashed through the front windshield, illuminating the expressionless faces of the captives as they sat unnaturally silent, unaware of what was going on, unaware of the fate that awaited them on the other side.

Tight ropes bit into Larsen's wrists. Her body felt battered and bruised, her head aching, her skin stinging as if real fire had shot through his fingers and scorched her.

And all he'd done was touch her.

She concentrated on the pain, so much easier to deal with than the grief and despair.

Jack was gone. And her fate seemed destined to lie in another world, as a guinea pig of a different kind. Torture as they sought a way to break into her mind. Unimaginable pain.

Her breath caught in her throat as crushing fear lanced her chest.

The police van hit a pothole, slamming her head against the metal wall at her back, jarring her out of the spiraling terror. The girls jostled one another, their mindless expressions never changing.

If only she were like them. Not immune. Not a Sitheen. Blissfully unaware the world was about to be overrun by the most evil creatures ever to walk the earth.

Anger bubbled up inside her. She couldn't give in to fear, to the despair. She
wouldn't.
There had to be a way to beat them. All she had to do was find it. For once in her life, she longed for one of her hated death visions. For a clue,
anything,
that might tell her how to stop this from happening.

The van came to a sudden halt, sending Larsen and the girls tumbling into one another. The back doors opened, and a dozen policemen ordered the girls out. One by one, they obeyed.

Larsen dug in her heels, fighting against the tide of unnaturally silent young women, but they pushed her forward until someone grabbed her arm and pulled her out, a man she didn't know. Larsen stumbled into him, then righted herself as he jerked her along.

As she'd seen in her vision, police cars and vans clogged the roadway that was Dupont Circle. Police officers stood in a perfect circle around the cars, guns pointing outward against possible attack. A bit of overkill considering the only ones who could possibly attack were Harrison and Charlie. If anyone else came near, they'd simply be sucked into the Esri's enchantment and stand docilely by while the creature stole scores of young women from the nearby community. And her.

The cop pulled her toward the small grassy park within the traffic circle, in the middle of which stood the high marble fountain like a sacrificial altar, along the path to where Baleris's white hair shone in the moonlight. He had an air of excitement about him, like a conqueror returning with the spoils of war.

Wild terror shot through her limbs at the sight of him, as her mind scrambled from the memory of the molten pain he'd subjected her to. She forced air into her lungs, struggled to calm down.

Beside Baleris stood his two bald minions, Tarrys, looking distinctly unhappy, and the man, Yuillin, who'd elfshot David. No longer were the pair dressed in jeans and T-shirts, but clothing of an ancient design—long shapeless gowns of a grayish color, tied at the waist with a glittering purple sash. Each had a bow slung over one shoulder and a quiver of arrows strapped to their backs. Ready for battle.

Baleris turned as Larsen approached, a gleam of brutal satisfaction in his eyes. He flicked his hand toward Yuillin and the little man made a quick bow and took off toward the fountain in an easy jog.

Larsen's police guard pulled her to a stop several yards from the white murderer, well out of his reach. Relief shivered through her, though she knew her situation could change with a single thought from that inhuman head.

The grassy park slowly filled as two more police vans pulled up, each filled with girls.
Three score virgins,
he'd boasted. Without exaggeration, apparently.

Yuillin returned, holding his quiver steady as he ran. “'Tis time, m'lord. The gate is open.”

Baleris smiled with wicked satisfaction and reached for her. Larsen jerked back like a terrified animal, drawing a laugh from the Esri.

“I've broken you so quickly, have I?”

Not broken. She wouldn't accept that. As the Esri's white hand clamped hard around her upper arm, panic bubbled up inside her, blocking out everything but a single silent scream.

But she felt only the cool pad of his flesh. No searing pain. Nothing.

She stared at him in confusion.

“It only hurts if I wish it.” He chuckled with sadistic delight. “And I always wish it.”

His touch turned to flame. The scream escaped her throat. And then the fire was gone once more and he jerked her forward and held her fast, leaving Larsen to sag against her jailer, tears of pain burning her eyes, terror clawing at her lungs. This was only a taste of what awaited her. How long would she last? How much would she be forced to endure before she died?

Baleris lifted his free hand and the stolen girls began to line up behind Larsen, ready to follow the Pied Piper into hell.

Pain exploded in her head. What new torture had he devised for her now? But then her vision went black and she knew. Her devil's sight this time, not the devil himself. She was thrown into another premonition, witnessing another death she feared would be her own.

Her vantage point suddenly flipped as she watched from above, the scene almost exactly as she'd left it except the procession of enchanted young women was no longer forming, but moving. Baleris, at the head of the line, had almost reached the fountain. Police officers circled the group like soldiers frozen in place.

Then one of the cops moved his hands. A slight movement. The small blade glinted in the moonlight as Larsen watched him slice open his palm. Blood welled against the pale flesh. His knife dropped to the ground and he launched himself forward, straight at Baleris in a running gait she instantly recognized.

Jack.

Shock vibrated through her body.
Jack was alive!
Here. Now. As she watched with tense joy, he lunged at the Esri and grabbed the amulet with his bloodied hand. The chain melted from the Esri's neck as if severed by an invisible knife.
The amulet wanted blood!
How did they know? Around the circle, the enchanted cops and girls collapsed, unconscious. Only two cops remained standing and Larsen quickly recognized them. Harrison and Charlie. The Rand brothers grabbed the two small minions, thwarting their attempt to aid their master, while Jack set the Esri on fire.

Engulfed in flame, his white hair flying around him, Baleris lifted terror-filled eyes to the sky above him and met her psychic gaze.

The vision ended as quickly as it began. Larsen was back in her body, trembling and disoriented, and filled with the purest joy.
Jack was alive!
And the plan was going to work.
The Esri was all but dead.

But as her gaze refocused, she looked up to find Baleris staring at her. Not with the sadistic pleasure of moments ago, but with the same terror that had shone from his eyes as their gazes met in her vision. And suddenly she understood.

He'd seen her watching him in the vision. He must have seen what she had, or at least enough to know what was going to happen…that he was about to die.

As he stared at her now, his hair shining like silver beneath the full moon, the terror in his eyes evaporated in a burst of fury. She knew, in that moment, the battle wouldn't happen the way she'd seen.

They'd lost the element of surprise.

“He knows!” she screamed, her voice echoing through the unnatural quiet. “I had a…” The Esri's grip on her arm turned to fire, sending molten flame shooting through her body, wrenching a scream from her throat. “I had…a premonition. Of his death. He knows what you plan to do!”

Even as her words rang out over the streets of the nation's capital, the enchanted fell to one knee in perfect synchronicity, leaving three cops standing—three fake cops who'd infiltrated the ranks of the controlled: Jack, Harrison and Charlie.

A heartbeat later, in the same eerily perfect move, the enchanted bounded upward and attacked the three Sitheen.

“No!” He'd kill them in the same horrible way she'd watched herself die at the wedding reception a week ago…a lifetime ago.

In a single, desperate move, she lifted her free hand to her mouth and bit down hard, letting the pain rip through her jaws to draw the needed blood. Then she whirled her body toward the Esri and snatched the amulet from his neck.

The pain grew a thousand times worse as the white devil fought to retake the prize from her. Beyond the haze of pain, she saw bodies fall to the ground. The enchanted were out.

But so, too, were Jack and the others. As her gaze strafed the area, she saw no movement but that of two small archers, their arrows aimed at her heart.

 

Jack moaned and tried to roll over. Every bone in his body felt crushed to dust. Son of a
bitch.
He'd never taken such a beating in his life.

Larsen.
The bastard had Larsen.

Fear surged through him, propelling him through the pain and onto his feet. His rattled head took a split second to take in the scene, and what he saw turned his blood to ice—Larsen held fast in the Esri's grip, two arrows flying directly toward her from two different angles.

No!

But at that moment, no more than a yard from their fatal destination, the arrows converged. The one shot from Tarrys's bow collided with the first, knocking it harmlessly into the grass.

Even as relief surged through him, he saw the small male archer pluck another arrow and aim. Jack pulled his gun and fired, hitting him square in the chest and sending the minion sprawling to the ground.

He took off at a painful, limping run toward where Larsen struggled with the Esri, the amulet's chain dangling from her hand.
She'd done it!

Larsen's scream rent the air and Jack launched his battered body at her attacker…and into the fires of hell. Invisible flames licked at his skin the moment he touched the white devil. But Larsen was free. And he knew what to do. The voices had finally started talking to him in an odd, disconnected kind of way. But he had the information he needed and that was all that mattered.

As he pinned the struggling Esri beneath him, he saw movement to his side.

“Stop me!”

Tarrys.
She had another arrow tight in her bow…aimed at Larsen's head. The Esri was controlling her.

“Stop me!”

Jack didn't think. His heart propelled him forward, directly between her and Larsen even as a shape rose out of the dark behind the small minion. Charlie grabbed the girl around the waist with one hand while he wrenched the bow out of her hands with the other.

“Jack,” Larsen cried. “He's getting away!”

But as Jack turned, he saw Harrison tackle the Esri at the base of the fountain and start pounding him into the ground. A father's revenge.

Jack turned to Larsen who was weaving unsteadily toward him.

“I thought you were dead,” she said, throwing herself into his arms.

Jack winced, his body aching in places he didn't know existed, and gathered her tight against him, burying his face in her hair. “Are you all right? Did he…”

“He didn't rape me or anything like that. But he has one mean touch.”

“I felt it.” The fear for her that had been riding him since he'd discovered her gone shuddered out of him. “Thank God you're all right.”

As one, they pulled away. He took her hand. “Come on. We've got a job to do.”

She eyed him curiously, but joined him as he made his way to the fountain and the two men—
males
—locked in a bizarre combat. Harrison was the only one throwing punches, but the Esri was far from the only one feeling pain.

“Drag him away from the fountain, Harrison,” Jack said. “I have some business with him that needs tending to.”

“Can I set you down?” Charlie said to his small captive.

Jack glanced back to see the pair had followed them. Tarrys was slung over Charlie's shoulder, her small wrists gripped in one of the man's hands.

“Nay,” the girl said. “He controls me. He bids me to kill you. All of you. If I am freed, I will try.”

Harrison stood and jerked the Esri off his feet, hauling him into the grass. “This far enough?” The man's words were tight with pain, but he never loosened his grip on the Esri.

“Perfect.” Jack pulled out his lighter and flicked it to create a single flame.

“Nay!” the Esri cried, staring at the flame. “Nay!”

“Go to hell, you bastard,” Jack murmured, then began to chant the odd collection of syllables one of his oldest ancestors had shared with him on the ride over here. The same ancestor who told him the stone could be called with blood. Who would have thought the voices in his head would turn out to be such a valuable source of information?