Panic Room Read online

  She really was getting paranoid. And was clearly bored enough to turn something innocuous and explainable into a followable offense.

  She slipped her heels free, barefoot on the grass outside, wishing she had a gun. Not that she really believed she needed one or anything. But she would have felt better with a weapon in her hands. Like Gerri would ever let her have one. Still. She found a garden rake in one corner and hefted its weight. Even then, makeshift weapon at the ready, she didn’t expect to have to use it. In fact, was half grinning, slightly concerned she’d run into the tech and scare the crap out of an innocent man, followed by a hasty apology and hideous embarrassment.

  Or did she?

  Adrenaline coursed through her, heating her up until she was sweating not just from the California humidity. She kept the young tech in sight, ducking when he stopped, looking up. Checked his watch again.

  Waited.

  All her senses tingled. The doubt she had in her instincts faded into total focus at the sight of his odd actions. Kinsey retreated when his head turned, panting behind a bush, hands clutching the rake. She peeked again, found him missing. There was no reason for him to be out here, not when he claimed he’d needed something from his truck. Lying was a bad sign. Damn it, where did he go? She crept forward, listening, barely breathing. Reached the spot in the back where she’d last seen him.

  And froze at the pressure of something small in the center of her back.

  Kinsey dropped the rake, turned slowly. Her eyes settled on his hands, realized she’d missed a detail, the small ring on his thumb, with what looked like iron with a symbol carved into the metal painted red.

  A dervish symbol.

  “They said you might give me trouble.” His voice had changed utterly, one hand grasping her upper arm and pushing her roughly forward. Surprisingly strong for the weak young man with too much weight on his small body she’d first assumed. She’d clearly misjudged him. Kinsey let him guide her, the gun hurting as he jabbed it into her side. “Say one word or try your Nightshade power on me and I’ll pull the trigger.”

  It was so hard not to speak. She bobbed a nod instead.

  Damn it, she was such an idiot. Why didn’t she tell anyone where she was going? Trust herself enough to just open her damned mouth? Benedict. He might find her. Not that she needed rescuing. She glared at the tech. Likely he had brands marking symbols on his chest.

  “Collective,” she said.

  “I said no talking.” He didn’t shoot her, though. “And none of your damned business.”

  Collective.

  “You realize,” she said as he pushed her against the wall of the house, “I’m working with your boss, Gideon Orter.”

  “Good for you.” He gestured with the gun for her to step to the side. She did without argument. “My orders don’t come from him.”

  How interesting. He looked shocked, like she’d forced him to talk, but Kinsey raised both hands, shook her head. Made the universal turning key at her lips and tossing it gesture.

  “Just let me do my job,” he snapped, “and no one else gets hurt.”

  The tech shuffled forward, keeping her in sight even as he approached the wall. He fumbled around a moment, fingers exploring the stone before he found what he was looking for. Something clicked and shifted, a doorway opening, stairs leading upward.

  “To the panic room, I assume.” Kinsey clamped her lips together, but he didn’t seem to care.

  “I’m really sorry I have to do this.” He pivoted, free hand winding a silencer on the barrel of his gun. “But we can’t have witnesses.”

  “I thought you said no one else would get hurt.” Okay, this was bad and getting worse. Kinsey couldn’t help herself. Stared into the barrel of the gun. Tried not to hyperventilate.

  Failed.

  “I lied.” He shrugged. “I’ll apologize to Orter when I see him.”

  Damned Gideon anyway. She’d find a way to come back and haunt his ass for letting his little minions loose like this. Despite the danger she was in, despite her fear, Kinsey was surprised to find she was more offended than anything.

  Something lunged from the darkness, a shadow with a face as pale as death as the lights of the house went out.

  ***

  INT. – THE PANIC ROOM – NIGHT

  Gerri had to rush Alan and take the gun. That was her only option. He’d likely shoot her and she’d probably die from the wound, but she couldn’t just stand here and wait for him to decide it was the right time according to his fucking watch.

  “Late for something?” She couldn’t resist prodding him. He looked nervous momentarily. So, was he late? Or, was someone else late… “You have a way out.” That had to be it. The lie of safety in a panic room built to serve who? Not the victim, clearly. “A back exit.”

  He snarled at her. “Shut up.”

  Not this time. “Who’s your contact?” Wait, it could only be one person. The tech who was working on the front door. Damn it, she needed to use the phone, but no way he’d let her. “Tim Sanders out there your partner in all this? You sealed the door.”

  He shrugged. “No court of law here, Detective,” he said. “Nothing to prove to anyone.”

  “I want to know,” she said. Waited. The bad guys, they had this thing about talking when they thought they had the upper hand. And she really wanted to know.

  “Fine, yeah. I did it. I locked us in.” He grinned. “I knew Meredith had a gun. It was only a matter of time before she fucked up and I was in control.” The older woman sighed. “Not like it matters. She screwed this royally from the moment she killed the congressman. It was supposed to be a public assassination, the day he dropped the legislation. Legislation we would replace with our own.”

  The fanatical light in his eyes, the way spittle flew from his mouth... this kid was losing it. If he hadn’t lost it already.

  She had to take him out. But what if the bullet went wide? She just couldn’t risk anyone else, or that the projectile would embed in the concrete again. More likely it would bounce around the interior before striking at random. Her own life, fine. But she was a body away from Alan and his gun, would have to leap across the dead congressman to get to him. The chance of a wild shot in the small space meant collateral damage.

  She’d just have to convince him to shoot her and only her.

  Great. She was contemplating suicide. Stupid, stupid.

  The phone rang, making them all jump. Gerri glanced at it, shrugged. “Someone has to answer.”

  He shook his head. “They can’t get in anyway,” he said. “Just stay where you are.”

  Gerri’s whole body rippled with tension every time the phone rang. She counted the tones out, jaw jumping. When the number hit five, it finally went silent.

  Alan's head turned. A small, innocuous motion. Distraction. She sniffed, smelled a change in the air, subtle but present and understood. Time was up. His ride was here. The back door was about to be revealed.

  If you’ve ever really had my back, she shot at the bheast inside her, make this happen.

  It growled at her, surged through her, filled her. She’d never seen so clearly, smelled so acutely, felt even the most brief of brushes over her skin as air rushed toward her through a crack in the wall. A crack that whooshed wide.

  The power went out, the room plunged into darkness at the very moment Alan turned toward the exit. She registered the fact she could still see even as the bheast grabbed control of her body and threw her across the intervening space. She felt herself float, weightless and yet with the power of a juggernaut behind her, straight at her prey.

  He must have sensed her there, even in the dark, turned with the gun pointed at her. Too late, the muzzle flashed, aimed high as she hit him full in the chest with all the weight of her body and forward motion.

  Alan crashed through the opening behind him, cracking his head on the stairs leading out even as the power surged on once more and the front door opened.

  Gerri barely had time
to leap into a crouch, both fists holding the unconscious young man firmly in her grip, before the room was flooded with giant men in black suits.

  ***

  INT. – CONGRESSMAN BARNES’S OFFICE – NIGHT

  Gerri stood outside the panic room in the congressman’s office, bheast under control but temper running so hot she was sure steam poured out of her ears. The black suited men were hard at work, their own techs in ebony rubber jumpers sweeping the room of all evidence while two of them talked quietly with the mayor and Captain King in the far corner.

  Ray and Kinsey hovered next to Gerri, scowling about as darkly as she, though Jackson seemed amused by the whole thing. She’d punish him for that later.

  Alan Jenkins was already gone, dragged off by the black suits. And no amount of protest from Gerri made a fucking shit bit of difference. The captain’s furious glare she met with one of her own, but she finally backed down and let the big boys clean up the mess while she fumed in silence.

  The Collective. The League. The Purists. The Fucking Asshole Society of Assholes.

  Benedict seemed to know some of the suits, so these had to be League members. Gerri would be telling the tall vampir what she thought of his associates in a very short order, right after she punched the motherfucker in the face. Mind you, he’d saved Kinsey, from what her friend told her. The anthropologist had almost been shot by Tim Sanders downstairs. Alan’s partner in crime was Collective. The joke was on the Purist kid, after all.

  Belle stood off to one side, with her mother. The suits had already talked to them and they both seemed eager enough to put this behind them. Though, the unattractive girl met Gerri’s eyes for a moment, sadness and her own fury buried there.

  Maybe it wasn’t over for Belle. Gerri hoped the young woman didn’t get herself in trouble. Then again, if she did, Gerri would make sure she was there to help her out. Just out of the goodness of her heart and a desire to stick it to the League.

  Benedict left his huddle, heading for Gerri. She hadn’t uncrossed her arms for at least a half hour, her heels killing her feet, one hip cocked in physical protest of her anger. When he stopped in front of her and her friends, Gerri’s sneer was automatic.

  “All cleaned up, then?” She glanced over his shoulder as the suits filed out. “All covered up, swept under the rug, neat and tidy?”

  He sighed, shook his head. “I’m sorry, Geraldine,” he said. “This is the way things have to be.” He looked around at the three of them, quiet voice sad as he spoke. “And I think you all know that.”

  Like hell. And yet, Gerri’s previous imaginings of a world on fire, of death and mayhem and murdered paranormals came flooding back. And with a sharp exhale of frustration, she nodded once.

  That was all he was getting.

  “I take it there will be an official story?” She wondered about Doug Divers as Benedict nodded.

  “Of course.” His smile was fleeting in his pale face. “The congressman’s murder will be blamed on the technician, a set up to robbery, nothing more. His accomplice will be detained by those who can help him keep his mouth shut,” Gerri grunted and thought about the black suits, “and Mrs. Barnes and her daughter will retire gracefully somewhere they can live out their lives in peace and comfort.” Gerri felt her shoulders tighten further and further as he went on in his deep, precise voice. Wrapped up all right, neat and tidy.

  Not really, though. Not for her. “And the TV host?”

  “Monetary compensation is a powerful motivator for people like Mr. Divers.” Benedict shrugged, a clean gesture that made her shiver at its preternatural perfection. “Whatever the rest of the story, Geraldine, everything we do preserves the safety and security of our races.”

  No doubt.

  Benedict nodded to them, turned and left. Jackson chose that moment to join them, still smirking.

  “Feds,” he grinned. “Gotta love ‘em.”

  ***

  INT. – CAPTAIN KING’S OFFICE – NIGHT

  It was harder to stand in her captain’s office than in the congressman’s. Harder to face Dominic King and Mayor Price knowing what they were. But better to have Kinsey and Ray beside her, the three of them support enough as the pair of men laid out the letter of the law.

  “No one is to discuss this case ever.” Captain King’s deep voice held an edge Gerri now recognized as bheast. Her own grumbled she should have paid attention. It tried to tell her all along. She told it to shut the fuck up. “If we find out anyone has brought this case to the outside world, all three of you will be held accountable.” Yeah, that was fair.

  “You realize we weren’t the only three involved,” Kinsey said. She sounded pissed. Felt it, too, vibrating next to Gerri like a tiny tornado looking for a trailer park to flatten.

  “I don’t give a god damn if the three of you are the last people living on this earth!” King’s voice carried, shaking the glass of his office. Good thing the bullpen was empty. Gerri didn’t need this reaming to be public. “You are to keep your big mouth shut, do you understand me, Dr. DanAllart?”

  Kinsey shrugged, an angry gesture, looked away. Gerri knew that resistance, felt it in herself. Knew as soon as the three of them left the room they’d be talking.

  Naturally.

  “You’re lucky we’re telling you anything at all.” King backed down, head lowering, a giant bull of a man with a wolf inside him. Gerri was shocked she’d missed it before. It was so clear on his face, in his mannerisms, in the depth of his voice now she knew what she was looking for. A mimic of her own. “No one can know what really happened tonight. No one.” He looked up again, grief in his tone as the mayor sighed.

  “All evidence of the legislation, of Barnes’s legacy, has been destroyed. As far as we know.” He sagged, his own paranormalty showing, though not a bheast. Gerri had no idea what the hulking mayor might be, found she really wanted to know. Like he’d come out and tell her if she asked. The bloody hole in his shirt showed only healthy, dark skin beneath. What kind of paranormal could survive a bullet? Made her wonder—could she? “He was my friend. I’d hoped to talk him out of this foolishness. And now he’s gone.”

  Gerri wasn’t sure what to say to that.

  “Out.” Captain King waved at the door. “Go the hell home and don’t darken the precinct’s doors for at least a week.” He glared at Gerri. “Get on a plane and go to Boston. Your father won’t stop calling me.”

  Like hell.

  They turned and headed for the exit, but didn’t miss King’s parting words.

  “Be grateful you have the freedom to do your jobs,” he said, soft this time, his own frustration showing through. “We’ll do what we can to protect you. To keep you out of the politics of who we are. But don’t for a moment think you’re irreplaceable.”

  Ray tossed her head. “Sounds like you and Victoria had the same teacher.” She stormed from the room, shoulders tight. Kinsey glared at the pair, eyes narrowed.

  “My grandmother can think what she wants,” she said. “And try to keep me in the dark. But I’m not going to stop digging, gentlemen. Not until I have all the information I need to decide if I’m with you. Or against you.”

  That surprised Gerri, enough she let her friend leave ahead of her.

  “Meyers.” She didn’t want to turn back, but the compelling tone of her captain’s voice pulled her around. His black eyes were empty, face a mask. “Watch her. Protect her. And, if the time comes…” He drew a deep breath. “If the time comes and she becomes her mother, kill her.”

  “Captain,” Gerri said, showing him her middle finger, “fuck you.”

  He didn’t fire her. But she wasn’t sure she wanted this job anymore anyway.

  ***

  INT. – JULIAN BLACK’S MANSION – NIGHT

  Simone’s blood boiled in her veins, her dervish heritage beating itself against her insides as her fury shattered her normal control. With a trio of decisive power snaps, she shattered all three walls of the solarium, crushing the living,
thriving plants under the scythe of falling glass. A tiny fragment broke free, slicing over her cheek, drawing out a line of blood which she dabbed with a startled fingertip.

  Enough of a surprise to break her out of her rage, to turn her on her polished heel and move her forward, into the house. She examined the cut with critical eyes, wondering where Julian was. Even as she fumed in a cold and calculating slow boil, allowing her Nightshade blood to take over.

  The congressman was a wash. But this failure was only a setback. She had to believe that. And yet, as she struck yet another wall in her plans, Simone stared into her own eyes, seeing the battle of races raging visibly in her gaze while her body shook for control.

  She would persevere. If the Nightshade League and the man who was her father taught her anything, it was to continue forward even when faced with insurmountable odds. They would not break her, stop her, keep her from her goals. And when the weak and pathetic humans of this world finally bowed down to their masters, she would be their queen.

  Simone licked her finger, wiped away the blood, brought her hand back to her mouth. Tasted the coppery salt of herself. And smiled.

  They might think they’d stopped her. But, as her clever mind turned, she realized they hadn’t even slowed her down.

  Laughing, she turned toward the door. “Clarence!” The butler appeared, bowing to her. “Fetch Cici Panther for me. I have a job for her.”

  ***