Born in Twilight (Wings in the Night #5)

Born in Twilight (Wings in the Night #5) Page 12

Hilary Garner ran. She'd seen them coming, seen them surrounding the cabin that had been the only safe haven she could think of for the child. And God help her, she'd stolen the tiny baby right from under their noses back in White Plains. She'd had no idea if the child's mother was still alive. But her father was.

Tamara had received Hilary's cryptic message, and told her Jameson was on the way.

But it had been impossible to wait for him.

Every day, Hilary had checked in on the newborn. Those big dark eyes, and tiny hands, and satin hair, had enchanted her. And she couldn't wait. DPI's roster of experiments had been finalized, and the first of them had been put on Rose Sversky's schedule. And dammit, Hilary couldn't wait.

So she'd taken her, and she'd brought her here. And the bastards had found her. One of them must have realized she'd slipped away from the cabin, too, because she could hear them coming. Heavy footfalls, crushing the leaves and twigs as they ran toward her.

She hugged the bundled-up baby tight in her arms. "Don't worry, honey," she whispered. "Hilary's going to take care of you, baby. I promised your mama. And I promised myself. I said I'd watch over you, sweetie, until your daddy came for you, and that's what I'm gonna do. I swear, I will." She ran faster, weaving and ducking through the trees. But the footsteps came closer, louder, and then someone shouted.

"No. Please, God, help me keep my promise!"

Shots rang out in the night, and searing hot hammers seemed to pound her in the back, slamming her body forward.

"Jesus Christ," a man yelled. "You'll hit the freaking kid, you idiot!" She tried to keep going, tried to keep moving. But she lost all the feeling in her legs. They buckled, and she fell to her knees. And then slipped lower. And her arms cradled the baby, and she bent her head to kiss the plump cheek. "I'll keep my promise," she whispered.

And even before she finished, the men were looming over her, taking the child from her arms. The one man passed the baby to the other. "Here. Whaley said to radio in when we had her, and then get her into a vehicle headed straight back to headquarters. No stopping. No detours. Got it?" Hilary weakly turned her head, to see the other one nod once and turn to go. She watched the baby disappearing from her sight. "He'll...never...make it back there with her," she managed. "I won't let him."

"You aren't going to be much help to anyone for much longer, Garner."

"I have to," she whispered. "I promised."

He shook his head, his eyes dipping down to her torso, then turning away in disgust. He left her there, shouting to some of the others as he did. "It's all over here. Let's get back to the house and transport the others to The Pit."

"But one is still at large, sir."

"One, we can handle," he said. "Later. Let's be sure the others are taken care of first." And she listened to them tromping away, their footsteps growing fainter, and then fading entirely. Hilary closed her eyes, and let her head rest against a hunk of moss-covered deadfall. "Please, God," she whispered. "It's been so long since I've come to you...I know that. But...but I'm sorry." She gritted her teeth in pain, and drew a breath, forcing herself to go on. "I don't know if you can forgive me for...for all the time I spent working for those monsters. But I didn't know, God. I didn't know." The wind seemed to whisper through the pine boughs. It seemed to be calling her name.

"Forgive me, Lord," she went on. "And help me. I need help to keep my promise." She opened her eyes and looked up at the dark sky. "Send me a sign," she whispered. "Send me an angel, and I'll know I'm forgiven. I'll know you're hearing me now, if you'll just send me an angel." Jameson woke in chains. His mind was groggy, and weak from the drug, but he fought the debilitating effects, blinked his vision clear and tried to survey his surroundings.

He was underground. The smell of the earth surrounded him, even beyond the circular wall made of huge concrete blocks. Jesus, he was in some sort of round dungeon. He was slumped on a hard floor, his legs shackled to the wall behind him, his arms chained up and outspread. Clenching his jaw, he tugged at those chains, but they only rattled in response. He was too weak. Damn, he was too weak to break free.

A soft moan drew his gaze, and he saw the others, chained just as he was. Eric and Roland, Tamara and Rhiannon, her dark hair hanging over her face. But not Angelica. There were other chains dangling from the walls. Empty of prisoners, hanging alone. Angelica occupied none of them.

Thank God. Thank God, she'd gotten away.

Roland staggered to his feet as Jameson looked on. He lifted his head, and their gazes locked.

"Where the hell are we?" Jameson asked, though he was certain Roland had no more clue than he did.

"I can't be sure. Probably one of the safe houses the bastards have scattered all over the country.

They'll bring in reinforcements before they try to move us back to White Plains, I imagine." Jameson could believe it. Armored trucks and armed guards.

And perhaps there was another reason they hadn't been moved just yet. "They want all of us," he said, realizing his speech sounded drunken and slurred. Roland's brows came up. "Angelica got away. And she's the only one left who'll keep trying to rescue the baby."

"Yes," Roland said, nodding slowly. "They'll want to eliminate every possible threat to their keeping that child. She must be considered their most valuable prisoner."

"I don't believe they have her."

Eric was stirring awake now. And then Tamara and Rhiannon as well.

"What makes you think so, Jamey?" Tam whispered.

"Angelica," he said. "I'm not sure what might have happened since, but right up until the moment we were ambushed, Angelica was convinced the child was still safe. She didn't believe them when they said they had her, and I have to cling to that. She senses things about the baby. And she was feeling... almost exuberant. So sure our Amber Lily was in safe hands."

"Maybe," Tam whispered, her head nodding once before she pulled her chin up once more. "Maybe Hilary got away before they found the cabin. Maybe the baby is still safe with her."

"Yes," Eric put in, sounding weak. "They knew we'd come after her at the cabin, so even if they had missed catching her there, they'd have lain in wait for us."

"With all of us in captivity, they'll be sure we don't reach the child before they do," Roland said.

Rhiannon lifted her head, her eyes flashing with anger. "Captivity, my love, is not at all what they have in mind for us. They know better. They won't risk it." She lifted her head, then slowly closed her eyes.

"Look above us," she whispered.

And one by one the others tipped their heads back. Jameson did likewise, and then felt as if he'd been kicked in the stomach. There was no floor above them. This was no basement, no dungeon, but a pit, with its circular stone walls rising high all around them. An arching ceiling towered high above. A ceiling entirely made of glass.

Jameson tugged at the chains with renewed vigor. Damn the drug! He was as weak as a mortal!

Weaker. He pulled until the iron cuffs cut into his wrists, and still didn't loosen their hold on him.

"God, no," Tamara whispered, and then Jameson heard her soft crying, saw her tears. Her eyes sought Eric's, and her hands strained against their bonds to reach his, but too much space separated them. "I love you, my darling," she whispered between sobs. "You've given me so much happiness. So much joy..."

"Tamara..." Eric moaned, straining against his bonds.

Rhiannon's eyes narrowed. "Stop it! Stop with the dying declarations of love. We are far from finished!" But her voice didn't quite ring with its usual conviction.

Because she knew, as they all did, that when the sun rose and filled this hole with its golden light, it would be the end. For all of them.

"Dammit," Jameson shouted. "Dammit, I shouldn't have let you get involved in this. I knew better. I knew I'd just bring trouble to all of you."

"We're family, Jameson," Roland said, his voice level and low. "We couldn't not get involved."

"At least there's still a chance for your child, Jamey," Tamara whispered. "Angelica will find her, take her away to safety."

"There will never be a chance for my child," he said, his rage rising up to envelop his entire being, "Until DPI is brought to ruin. Dammit, when will the rest of you see that? We should have destroyed them long ago. They won't rest until all of our race is annihilated, I know it. And you do as well." They said nothing. But there was guilt in their eyes as they looked at one another. He didn't need to hear them say he was right. Maybe they still didn't believe he was. But Jameson knew. One day, someone would rise up. Someone would lead them in revolt, and DPI would be laid to waste. He'd planned to be that someone. But now it looked as if the job would fall to another.

To his own daughter, perhaps.

Jameson lowered his head, closed his eyes, and focused every fiber of his being on Angelica. Find her, Angel. My beautiful, dark Angel. Find her and keep her safe. I can't be there for her. It's over for me. But you can. You must. Save her, Angel, and tell her about me. Tell her about her father. Tell her... that he loved her .

I stopped running. I was not certain what made me stop, but something did. Some sense. Some feeling.

And then Jameson's voice flooded my mind. His farewell. His goodbye. And my heart twisted and tore and bled. "No!" I cried out, shaking my fists at the night. "Don't do this, Vampire! Don't leave me!" But there was no further reply. I tried to get a sense of where he was, using my mind, but I found nothing. And I sobbed, great heaving sobs that tore through me and left me weak.

I had to find him. And my daughter. And I would. Dammit, I would! I raced through the woods, sending my senses out before me, searching, seeking.

Someone was near.

I halted in my panicked race, and turned in a slow circle. And then I heard it. A soft moan, guttural and pain-racked. And for just a moment, I recalled the night that seemed a lifetime ago. That night when a similar sound had drawn me into an alley, where a nightmare awaited me.

Every nerve in me jangled to life. I came fully alert, and turned toward the source of the sound. I saw only a mass of deadfall. But the moan came again.

Closing my eyes, I sent out my senses, feeling the very air around me. But there was no one else. Only one person. One very weak, pain-racked mortal. Moving silently, I stepped closer. And then I saw her.

She lay very still among the brush, and the scent of blood was strong around her.

My hesitation vanished, and I hurried forward. Brown eyes opened when I crouched beside her, and I knew her. This was the dark-skinned woman with the kindness in her eyes. The one who had been with me when my daughter was born. The one who'd promised, without a word, that she would help my innocent baby.

Hilary Garner. She lay still, and very near death. Her body riddled with bullet holes, and blood flowing slowly from each of them.

"You," she whispered, and it was a tremendous effort for her even to speak.

"I'm here," I said, stroking her hair away from her face. "Don't try to talk. I'll help you. It will be all right."

"No." Weakly, she shook her head. "Nothing...you can do. It's enough...that you're here." And yet I pressed my hands to the wounds in her chest, attempting to slow the ebb of life from this woman.

"I asked..." she rasped, "God...to send me an angel. And...he sent you." I blinked in shock, and looked down at her. Angel. It was what Jameson called me. But surely God wasn't still having a hand in my life. Surely he hadn't guided my steps. Surely it wasn't possible that I was still a part of his plan.

Was it?

"They...they took her. They took...the baby..."

"I'll get her back," I said, and I tore strips of cloth from my dress and packed them into her wounds.

"He'll...protect her," she said softly. "He promised...I promised."

"I owe you more than I can ever repay, Hilary Garner," I whispered.

"White Plains," she said, and she was weakening rapidly. "They're going to try...to take her back...there."

"I'll go for her. Don't worry, I'll find her."

A soft hand came up to grip my wrist as I worked to pack another wound with cloth.

"The...others...first."

I frowned down at her.

"Route...Ten," she gasped and bit her lip. "Twelve miles north. An old...l-logging road...veers east."

"And what is there, Hilary? Is that where the others are being held?" She nodded, her eyes falling closed. But then popping open again, blazing with urgency. "The Pit," she whispered. "Dead... by dawn...all of them..."

My hands stilled as an icy chill swept through me. "By dawn?" My God, how could I do this? How could I, alone, rescue the others before sunrise? I couldn't.

"I...I didn't know," the weakened woman went on. "All those years...worked for them...didn't know...I swear..."

"I know that. You're a good woman, Hilary. A kind, caring woman."

" 'P-pray for me... Sister... pray... for me..."

I closed my eyes in anguish over this woman's pain. And over what she asked of me. "I can't..."

"Yes. You can. God sent you to...find me. He...still hears you." Tears burned in my eyes, because I did so want to believe it was true. Whether I did or not, though, I couldn't deny her this one small comfort. Bowing my head, I gathered her hands in mine. "Our Father," I whispered, "Who art in heaven..."

She mouthed the words along with me for a time, but stopped before the end. A soft smile played at her lips then, and her eyes opened, wide and clear and bright. "Thank you," she said to me. And then looked beyond me, lifting a hand toward something I could not see. "Yes," she whispered. "Yes...I'll keep my promise now." Her face relaxed, and her eyes fell gently closed. Her hand dropped to the ground at her side. And for just an instant, it seemed a soft white glow emanated from her still form. A glow that seemed to rise like mist from rain-damp ground. I blinked, rubbing my eyes. But there was nothing there, when I looked again. Only a still, empty body. And I thought of the abandoned farmhouse not far from here.

I buried Hilary Garner in a shallow grave, which I scraped from the earth with my hands. I gathered what stones I could find nearby to build a cairn atop her. And I knew it was enough. Nothing would disturb this grave. I sensed it, knew it with my heart.

And then I rose on wobbly legs, and turned in the direction that would lead me to the road.

Stiles drove while Special Agent Keller-the rookie who'd come running out of the woods looking spooked with the infant in his arms-rode shotgun in the back seat. He sat beside the kid gun drawn, wide eyes skimming the dark woods they passed. He was scared. Stiles knew scared when he saw it, and the rookie had all the symptoms.

Figured he'd get saddled with a spooky recruit on a job this important. It just figured. If he lost the kid again, Whaley would have his hide.

They were almost to the town of Petersville now. Stiles automatically glanced into his rearview mirror to check on his passengers, and then he did a double-take, because he could see the little one very clearly in the mirror. And she was kicking her blankets away from her and smacking on her fist like any normal baby might do.

His stomach clenched a little as his conscience whispered in his brain. What if the kid was...was normal? What if she didn't turn out to be like those animals who'd spawned her?

He looked at her again, and the tiny fist lowered from her bow-shaped mouth. Her huge, dark eyes seemed to stare straight into his, in the mirror. His throat went dry. He had to look away.

Stiles forcibly tore his gaze from the baby's, and when he did, he shouted an expletive and jerked the steering wheel. The car went into a skid, sliding sideways, throwing dirt and gravel as it scraped the road's shoulders, and finally coming to a jerky stop halfway to the ditch.

"What the hell are you doing?" Keller shouted, righting himself and retrieving his gun from the floor.

"Trying to get us killed?"

Stiles blinked and stared at the road. "There was something...'" he muttered. He got out of the car and walked a few steps from it onto the dirt road, and stood there looking left and right.

Keller came up behind him, gun back in his hand. "Did you see something?"

"Yeah," Stiles whispered. "But..." He gave his head a shake, and turned to Keller. "I don't suppose you saw it, did you?"

"I didn't see anything," Keller said. "What was it? A deer? Or..hey, Stiles, it wasn't one of them, was it?"

Stiles shook his head slowly. "No. Damn, Keller, you can't tell anyone about this, okay? Anyone sees us sitting here, we say we had a flat tire. You got that?"

Keller nodded. "Sure. So long as you're gonna tell me what you saw."

"What I thought I saw," Stiles corrected him. "Because it wasn't real."

"So what did you think you saw?" Keller asked, shoving his gun back into his pocket.

Stiles shook his head, looking at his feet. "There was this light. And then we got closer, and it looked like..."

"Looked like what?" Keller prompted.

Stiles sighed. "An angel. White gown and wings and the works. All glowing with this white light, and standing right in the middle of the damned road." Again, he shook his head, this time with a nervous laugh. "And then it was gone. Stupid, huh? I think I need to get more sleep, maybe take some time off..."

"Or...m-m-maybe not," Keller said.

Stiles lifted his head and saw the rookie's ashen face. His wide eyes and trembling forefinger were both aimed at the car, and when Stiles looked, it was to see that same eerie white glow spilling from every window in the vehicle. It glowed brighter than any man-made light could possibly do, just for a moment, and then the light faded away.

He gave his head a shake, as if he could somehow clear it, and then forced himself to move forward. But he had a pretty good idea already what he was going to find when he reached the car.

He leaned over the vehicle, peered inside, and then straightened and looked back at Keller, who was still rooted to the spot where he stood.

"The baby?" Keller asked.

Stiles blinked, feeling dazzled and shell-shocked. And then he just shook his head. Gone. The kid was gone as if she'd never been there.

Keller was breathing hard all of a sudden. "We gotta get out of here," he muttered, hurrying back to the car. "It might come back here...for us, this time."

Stiles gripped his shoulder and pulled him up short. "Listen, Keller, and listen good. No one is to hear about what we saw here tonight, got that? We talk about this, we're gonna get locked up in a rubber room somewhere. Hell, we might even end up subjects for DPI study." Keller gasped at that statement. "We had a flat," he said slowly. "We got out to change the tire, and someone grabbed the kid. We didn't see a thing."

Stiles nodded, swallowed hard, and, with frequent nervous glances over his shoulder, made his way back to the car.

It had been a miracle, Susan Jennings thought, over and over again. Only twenty-four hours ago, she'd swerved her car to miss a deer, and lost control. God, in heaven, she'd never forget the fear that had taken hold of her as the wheel had been wrenched from her hands and the car somersaulted down the side of that embankment.

Or the utter horror of pulling herself from the ground and realizing that little Alicia had still been inside.

And then, just like angels, those two strangers had appeared, as if out of nowhere. Just like angels, she thought again, smiling as she pushed the rocker into motion, cradling Alicia in her arms and holding her bottle to her lips. They'd saved her baby's life. And then vanished in the night before she'd even had a chance to thank them.

Alicia's gentle sucking slowed, and then stopped as her blue, blue eyes fell closed. Susan got up carefully, and tiptoed across the room to lower the baby into her bed. Then gently tucked the covers around her.

A soft knock sounded at the front door.

Susan turned, frowning hard, and sending a quick glance toward the clock on the wall. Who in the world would be calling at this time of night? She went to the door, opened it a crack and stared out into the kindest brown eyes she'd ever seen.

I raced north on Route 10, driving Jameson's car, which I had located right where he left it, concealed by a stand of pines off the roadside a few miles beyond the now-abandoned cabin. And I did as he had so wisely done then. Hid it from DPI's vigilant eyes. I saw the log road that veered to the east, but drove past it, pulling the car into a grove off the roadside, and then turning back on foot.

And when I found the logging trail again, I did not travel upon it, but cloaked in the shadows of the trees that lined its edges. The darkness was my friend tonight, as it had never been before. And as I drew nearer, black clouds skittered across the face of the low-hanging moon, painting it with velvet brush strokes, and deepening the night still more.

I saw a bubble in the ground, like a clear glass dome. And around it, four men stood like sentries guarding some coveted treasure. All of them armed, I knew. I could not hope to take them on all at once.

One of them would be bound to shoot me with his deadly little darts.

What should I do?

Lure them away, I thought. One by one, if necessary. But Lord, the sun would not be long in rising. And I saw now why that would spell death for the four who must be trapped beneath that clear bubble.

I gripped the lowest bough of the pine under which I stood, and with a twist of my hand, snapped the branch in two. It made a startling sound in the night, and all four guards went stiff and alert.

"What was that?" one demanded. "Who's there?" He lifted his weapon.

"Probably just an animal," said a second.

"I don't think so."

"So go check it out."

The first man shook his head. "Whaley said to do everything in pairs. You know how tricky their kind is."

"Come on, then. We'll both go."

The two men turned toward me, and started forward, moving slowly, weapons aimed. One drew a flashlight into his free hand pointed it my way and clicked a button. I pushed myself off the ground quickly, landing in the safety of the pine tree's arms before that beam of light fell on me. One at a time had been my plan. Not two at once. No matter. I wouldn't give up. Couldn't. Jameson, that vengeful vampire, was trapped like a rat, and when the sun rose...

I shuddered as I thought of the agonizing way in which he would die. Felt a peculiar emptiness growing inside me at the very thought of it, and my stomach tied itself up in knots. And then I stilled myself, and waited. The two did not walk close together as I'd hoped they would. But not far enough apart to suit me either. One of them stopped directly beneath me.

The other stood, perhaps four feet away, his back to me now. I would have to be quick, and smart.

Quicker and smarter than the men were. It shouldn't be hard, I told myself. I was a vampire.

I let myself fall from the tree, landing squarely atop the man who stood there. He emitted a loud grunt before my fists crashed down onto his skull, rendering him unconscious...at least. The other one whirled at the sound and leveled his weapon at me. Using all my speed, I dived to the side, and the dart his gun fired skimmed over my arm, cutting, but not embedding itself in my skin. Its tip sank into the tree beside me. I prayed it hadn't discharged any of that drug into my flesh. In the split second it took for the man to find me again with his sights, I'd plucked the dart from the tree and hurled it at him.

It drove itself deeply into my attacker's throat. His gun clattered to the ground, and his eyes rolled back in his head. Then he fell forward, and did not move again.

But I had not been as quiet at I would have liked. The two remaining at the dome were aware of the commotion, and one lifted a radio to his mouth. I snatched the gun from the ground, pointed it and pulled the trigger. But only a muted "click" came in reply. The gun hadn't been reloaded. "Something's going down," a guard shouted at his radio. And I threw the empty weapon at him with all my strength. "Get us some back-unnnnnhhhh-" The metal dart gun hit him squarely in the face, and he was flung backward so hard he crashed through the glass dome behind him. I heard him hit the bottom, far below, and then I heard no more.

I stood, without shelter, my eyes holding those of the one remaining man. He held his hands toward me, shaking his head from side to side. "Please...just take them, okay? Just-" I must have been quite a frightening sight to this poor mortal. My hair in tangles, and no doubt littered with pine needles and stray leaves. My hands scraped raw and dirty from digging a grave for Hilary. My dress torn from my mad race through the forest, and my arms and chest spattered and smeared with Hilary's blood as well as my own.

Perhaps she'd been right. Perhaps God was directing my steps. Somehow.

I nodded to the gun in the remaining guard's hand, and he dropped it to the ground. I lifted a hand and pointed to the radio attached to his belt, and he tossed that aside as well. And then I moved toward him.

The fear in his eyes reached me, and I almost felt sorry for him. He began to back away, but I didn't want him falling through the shattered dome and dying, so I pushed off with a burst of speed, and before he could have seen me move, I had him by the front of his shirt.

"D-d-don't kill me," he whispered. "P-please..."

I put my arms firmly around him, and jumped through the break in the glass bubble. He howled aloud as we plummeted, but I held him tight when we hit, not falling on my backside as I was so prone to do.

Around me I sensed the stunned expressions on the faces of the others. But I only glanced away from my captive long enough to assure myself they were all there, and all alive. My eyes locked with Jameson's for a long moment. He pulled uselessly against the chains that bound his wrists to the wall, and I felt anger such as I had never known at those who had put him here, left him here to die. But I pulled my gaze free, forcibly so.

"Where is my child?" I demanded, giving the guard a shake.

"I...I don't know...I's-swear-" His wide eyes danced around the room, fear-filled as he saw the fury of each captive vampire, and then horrified still more as he saw the prone form of the other guard, the one who'd fallen through the glass dome. The man's body lay broken in the center of the floor.

I shook him again, snapping his head back and forth with the force of it. "Pay attention to me, you little liar," I said to him. "Where is she? Where is my baby?"

"They were taking her back...to headquarters," he stammered. "B-but they had a flat. Th-they got out to change the tire and-and-and-'"

"And what, mortal!"

"The kid was gone!" he blurted, sobbing now. His nose was running and tears pooled in his eyes. "Just g-gone. S-someone took her right outta the c-car. A radio alert went out-w-we thought it was you!" I believe the man was telling me the truth, or as much of the truth as he knew. Of course, what he said could not have been what had truly happened. The only ones who could have rescued my baby were here, with me. Except for Hilary, of course, but sweet Hilary was dead. I'd buried her among the pine needles, beneath the pungent, sentrylike trees in the forest.

"But I thought...I thought Hilary had the child," Tamara's soft voice asked, filling this dark pit with warmth.

I turned to face her, meeting her wounded eyes. "I'm sorry, Tamara. They...they killed Hilary." She cried out when I said it, then let her head fall until her chin touched her chest, and her tears fell in silence.

"I found her in the forest. Dying. And she told me where you all were being held, that you'd be dead by dawn unless I found a way to help you."

"Thank God for her," Tamara whispered.

"I have," I replied. "I buried her there in the forest. It's a beautiful place, Tamara. She's at peace there." She nodded, thanking me with her eyes, if not with her lips.

"And now DPI has my daughter again."

"They don't," the guard piped up. "I told you-"

"No doubt they've told you this as a ruse," I said. "A ploy, in case I came here and forced you to talk." I looked at the others, the chains that bound them to the walls, and then glanced above me at the sky.

Paling, already. Paling. I gave him another shake. "The keys."

"R-right front p-p-pocket."

I snatched the keys from the man's pocket and pulled him with me to where Jameson stood, bleary eyed, and pale. Holding the guard with one hand, I unlocked the Vampire's shackles with the other.

Jameson stared at me. "You shouldn't be here, Angelica. Dammit, can't you ever do what you're told?"

"I'm saving your life, Vampire," I snapped. "Or hadn't you noticed that yet?" Jameson stepped away from the wall, and I slammed my prisoner up against it and snapped the vacant shackles around his wrists. Then I raced to each of the others, freeing them in turn.

Rhiannon rubbed her wrists, and gave me a weak imitation of her almost smile. "That was very good, Angelica. I might just make a goddess-among-women of you yet."

"Thank you," Tamara said, rushing into my arms and hugging me as hard as her strength would allow. "I thought this was the end. Thank you, Angelica!"

"Some people seem to have more difficulty showing gratitude than others," Eric intoned. "But I, too, thank you, my dear." This he said with a pointed glance at Jameson. And then he took Tamara into his arms and held her hard, closing his eyes tight, kissing her hair.

"Don't be so quick with your gratitude, Eric. We're not out of here, yet." As he said it, Jameson looked upward. "None of us is strong enough to climb, or jump, out of this pit."

"None but me, you mean." I tapped Tamara's shoulder, and when she turned to me, I wrapped my arms tightly around her, bent at the knees, and jumped with all my might. And we sailed past the shattered dome, landing safely on the ground. "Hide," I whispered. "One of them managed to use his radio before I got to him. More might be coming." Then I went back down for the others, and one by one, brought each of them out in the same manner.

Jameson insisted I take the others before him. Rhiannon reluctantly stepped into my embrace. "Imagine," she said. "I'm reduced to depending on a mere fledgling for salvation."

"Even worse," I told her. "You're being forced into a hug." She scowled at me as we soared upward. But I saw her deep affection for me hiding there beyond the scowl. And I wondered how I could come to love a woman more truly than if she were my own sister, in so short a time.

At last only my nemesis remained. We faced each other for a moment. "You shouldn't have come," he said. "I told you to go after the baby."

"I'll stand a far better chance of reaching her with your help," I told him.

"You're stubborn and foolish!"

"You're an arrogant, overbearing jerk," I spit back.

"You could have been killed, coming back for us," he said to me.

"And you would have died if I hadn't," I whispered. "I had to try, Jameson. I couldn't bear the thought." I slipped my arms around his waist. "Hold on to me."

He gripped my shoulders in his hands, and I looked up, into his eyes. "No," I said, and my voice trembled now. "Hold me close ."

He stared down into my eyes for a long moment, and then he pulled me tight to him, bowed his head and kissed my mouth. Feverishly, he kissed me. Desperately. And I clung to him, and kissed him back with the same unrestrained fierceness. When at last, he lifted his head away, I was shuddering with longing for this man I knew felt nothing for me except contempt. But it didn't fill me with disgust and self-loathing as he probably thought it did. I refused to let it. I wasn't yearning for the touch of a monster, or even of a sinful man whom I hated. I yearned for this man, whom I had come to care for, somehow. And I saw no terrible sin in that.

We bent our knees and jumped together, though he was still too weakened by the drug to be of much help, and we landed on the ground, still clinging to each other. He stood, pulled me to my feet and, for some reason I did not understand, he clung to my hand as we ran off into the forest, in the direction the others had taken. We didn't speak again. I saw lights in the distance, heard mortal voices as DPI troops fanned into the woods like soldiers, searching for us. No doubt intent on killing us all, on sight. We went quickly, and quietly, and when we reached the car, we piled inside. Even Roland, though he protested at riding in the thing.

The sky became lighter, paling to purple, as I sped back to the only shelter I could think of. The abandoned house where Jameson and I had planned to stay that first night. But when I stopped the car and got out, Jameson touched my arm.

"We'll leave the car here. If they find it, they'll think we're trapped inside the house, and it might distract them. But I think we should head for that cave of yours."

"There's no time," I said, searching his eyes.

"It's darker in the forest," Rhiannon said quickly. "There will be time, if we hurry." We did hurry, though the others were far slower than I. Twice Tamara told me to run ahead, to leave them and wait for them at the cave, but I refused to leave these newfound friends. I had come, in a very short time, to care for them very deeply. They'd become the family I had never had. The reward I'd always dreamed my goodness would earn for me, as a child. They were all risking their lives to help my baby daughter. And I would lay down my life for any one of them.

But even if it hadn't been for the love I felt for Tamara and Rhiannon, I could not have brought myself to leave Jameson. If the sun rose and began to blister my skin that very moment, I could not have gone on without him.

It was because he was the father of my child, I told myself, as I walked beside him through the gathering light. I was linked to him through the baby. That must be the explanation.

He turned and looked into my eyes then, and something inside me seemed to rouse from a heavy slumber. And I knew that my theory held no water. There was a bond between us. But for my part, at least, it wasn't our daughter alone that had created it.

There was something more. Something I could not begin to understand.

You're in love with him, fledgling, Rhiannon's voice whispered in my mind.

I swung my gaze to meet hers, startled, realizing I'd forgotten to guard my thoughts.

She smiled at me, sent me a wink. And I sensed she spoke to me alone, and kept her thoughts between us, so Jameson couldn't hear them. Yet another trick I'd like to learn. Of course, I knew it from the first time he spoke of you. You'll be good for him, Angelica. Exactly what our arrogant young Jameson needs . Her smile grew larger as she slanted a glance at him. Then she looked at me again, mischief in her eyes. Don't tell him just yet, young one. He needs to suffer a bit longer, I think .

Suffer? Oh, Rhiannon might be wise, but she had no clue about Jameson. He wasn't suffering at all on my account. His only torment came of his longing for our child, and of his craving for revenge against DPI. He might want me with the passion of a madman. But there was nothing beyond that. And as for me, well, I most certainly was not in love with him.

It would be a very foolish woman, indeed, who would let herself love a man who despised her.