Broken Angels (36 page)

It was more difficult than it would’ve been in broad daylight, but they both managed to get to and move through the higher tree branches while making only a small amount of noise. If anyone had been listening, they would’ve been more likely to mistake the two as frisky owls or insomniac squirrels than as two people on a serious mission. Even with their toys in tow, neither Ava nor Robert managed to rustle the tree leaves any more than a small mammal would have. Robert was keenly alert to how they were moving and the results of those movements; he was impressed with Ava’s skill. It was clear she’d had more than her fair share of practice at doing this—when, where, and exactly why he’d have to learn later.

Within minutes, the two were in view of the three-story house. The front door was on the second story, and the porch in front of it was larger than most backyard balconies Robert had seen—but it had no patio furniture, no flowerpots, and no decorations of any kind. A four-car garage was on the left side of the house, on the other side of the stone stairway leading up to the front door. The property’s driveway, currently empty, was long and wide enough for more than half a dozen cars. All of it was impressive, but the first thing Robert noticed were the large windows. The black rectangles and squares were all tinted with something that prevented Robert’s eyesight from penetrating through. When he tried, he only saw a tiny reflection of the trees.

“Damn it,” he said. “If they have any special optical equipment in there, they’ll see us coming the second we leave these branches. If they haven’t already.”

“It doesn’t look like there’re any lights on,” Ava said.

“Yeah, the better for them to see us.”

“I meant maybe no one’s home. Or they’re asleep. They can’t be expecting us.”

“Always expect that you’re expected,” Robert said. “You may be embarrassed later, but you’ll survive long enough to enjoy it.”

“That’s a delightful little philosophy.”

“Yeah, well, any delightful big ideas on how we can get in there? Front door is clearly out of the question.”

Ava stared at the house for a moment. “There’s a hidden entrance on the right side of the house. It’s the main entrance for the first floor. Very inconspicuous. Even if we were facing the right side of the house right now, dead on, you’d have a hard time seeing it.”

“Me?” Robert said. “I doubt that.”

“I don’t.”

“Well, then, lead the way, Arkangel.”

The two made as little commotion as possible as they maneuvered through the trees to get a view of the right side of the house. Ava was correct. There was no walkway leading to it, and the door wasn’t visible to anyone looking at the house straight on. It was located on the side of a portion of the house that jutted outward from the rest of the structure, evidently an add-on. Robert wondered for what purpose. He then wondered why the light-posts in the yard and the light fixtures on the house were all shut off. The lack of light enveloped the entire property in darkness, a darkness enhanced by the surrounding trees and accentuated by the fact the fading moonlight didn’t touch the house or the grounds.

“Any alarms?” he asked.

“Probably,” Ava said. “But every door and window probably has one. This is the entry point they’ll least likely expect us to use. It’s our best bet.”

“Good thinking; you’re probably right.”

“Quite a compliment.”

“Here’s another one,” Robert said. “You’re taking point. I’ll be right behind you.”

“Wow. You actually trust me to go first?”

“As long as you trust me to have your back.”

Ava didn’t respond.

“Turn invisible,” Robert said. “Your bow too. When we leave the tree, don’t touch the ground. We’ll levitate a few inches above the grass blades and skate over.”

Ava nodded and did as instructed.

As they cautiously approached the door, Robert had a fleeting thought. What if there were motion detectors on the property? Maybe the lights were set to turn on only if triggered.

His fear dissipated when they made it without even a flicker from the lights. He again, briefly, wondered why all the lights had been shut off. He then concentrated on the door. A thorough x-ray showed the only thing of significance on the other side was a stairway leading to the second floor, the primary floor.

“Got a key?” he said, half joking.

“I can get us in,” Ava said.

She did something to the door’s handle while her body shielded Robert’s view of the process. He could’ve spent some energy and concentration to manipulate his vision in order to see exactly what she was doing, but he didn’t. He needed to conserve. For all he knew, she really did have a key. Maybe Zel had given her a tool. Right now, it didn’t matter. Getting in was most important. He trusted her to get them in.

Something clicked, and Ava cracked open the door. No alarm. She opened it wider and stepped aside to allow Robert to go first. He shook his head then pointed at her and the stairway. They’d be better off with her maintaining the point position on the assumption she’d know the inside of the house as well as she knew the outside.

Ava started up the stairs, her feet not touching anything but cushions of air. Robert gently shut the door behind them and followed in the same manner.

The stairs ended at another door, this one already ajar. Regardless, Robert adjusted his vision to x-ray and see if the other side was clear before they moved on. They entered the kitchen. Excepting the dirty wine glasses near the sink, the room was spotless. Ava motioned for Robert to move closer and whispered into his ear.

“There’s another set of stairs on the other side of the house. They go downstairs, to the garage and bedrooms. One of us can go that way, the other can go upstairs.”

Robert didn’t want to repeat his feelings on the idea of them splitting up. He was beginning to think maybe it was a good idea. After all, Ava’s other recent ideas had been good ones. She’d gotten them this far.

“Let’s say we do split up from here,” he said. “Anything else about this place you want to tell me? Any surprises I should know about?”

“Surprises?”

“Booby traps.”

“How should I know?” she asked.

“Same way you knew about the stairs,” he said. “And the side door.”

“Robert, believe me, I’m just going by sight and angelic intuition. A sight of something will push a thought into my head. I don’t know what’s coming next. I’ll be just as surprised as you.”

“Yeah.” Robert took a look around him—peering, measuring, and searching. “Okay. Take me to the stairs that go to the upper level. I’ll go up, you go down.”

Ava looked at him and parted her lips as if she wanted to say something else. But it was only momentary. She closed her mouth, tightened her grip on her bow, and walked into the dining room. Robert followed, searching and measuring each new view with his eye. They both stopped after they left the dining room and entered the foyer. Ava pointed at the stairs. Robert focused on something else.

The mirrors. All of the various mirrors hanging in the corners and running all along the walls of the spacious two-story foyer. There were so many, Robert knew their purpose went beyond simple decoration. How far beyond, he couldn’t figure. He didn’t waste much of a thought on it. The sight of the potentially dangerous reflective glass made him think of a bigger potential danger.

He’d missed his last scheduled dosage.

He was supposed to take his Virus medication every two to three hours. It’d been a few more than that since his last dosage. His last
half
dosage. So caught up in worrying about Darryl, he’d forgotten to get a refill from Sam. He now realized he could be attacked at any moment from within as well as from without.

Ava had left him to his silent speculations and gone into the living room. After a few breathless moments, Robert inhaled, deeply, and started up the winding staircase. When he was two steps from the top, every light within range came on at once.

Robert cursed when the onslaught of radiance made him recoil and almost made him fall down the stairs. As he checked his balance and his eye adjusted to the bright atmosphere, he called to Ava. She didn’t respond. He instead heard another female’s voice shouting “Welcome back!” from the living room.

He ran down the staircase, almost tripping more than once, but not stopping until he reached the living room’s entranceway.

In a split-second’s survey, he saw Veronica Blake dressed in a white cropped T-shirt and denim cutoff shorts; he saw every window in the room had somehow converted into a mirror; and he saw Ava lying on her back on the floor, surrounded by a rectangular coffee table at her head, couches on either side of her, and Veronica at her feet. It seemed the Spryte had gotten the drop on the Arkangel.

Robert saw what he needed to do: run, leap onto the back of the nearest couch, jump off, and kick Veronica wherever he could land his sneaker. He moved.

On just his third step, Vanessa Blight slid out of nowhere. Robert didn’t notice until after her foot kicked him in the ear.

He didn’t go all the way down, but he stumbled; his knees buckled. Robert recovered in an eye’s blink and reeled around to size up his enemy, to figure the best spot to hit her and do it without wasting a breath. Contrary to her partner, Vanessa wore a dress showing very little skin. Only her face, arms, and feet were bare. And even at this close range, in the bright light, Vanessa’s eyes were in deep, deep shadow.

Robert squinted and concentrated to fire an infrared pellet at one of those pale arms, but he couldn’t focus on the target. Vanessa had already moved, dashing for the stairs. Not expecting a retreat, Robert hesitated, then he hustled after her when he realized she wasn’t running away. She was running to hide something.

The first thing Vanessa hid was herself. She slid back into invisibility as she placed her foot on the first stair. Robert kept moving, but with much more caution. He couldn’t see her, couldn’t pick up even a hint of her, but the Spryte could pop back into sight at any moment and shove him down the stairs. She wouldn’t get him that easily.

Ava would have to deal with Veronica alone. Robert hoped she was up to it.

NINETEEN

Darryl was lying on top of a bed. He knew that much. It was his first thought, even though so far he’d seen nothing but a white ceiling and the dull-yellow bare bulb hanging from its center. His second thought was a self-directed question: Why did his left hand hurt so much?

He tried to raise his arm. It wouldn’t move. Stiff, like a board. Like his back. He wasn’t tied down or restrained in any way, but he couldn’t move. Some dark spot in his psyche half encouraged him to laugh at the situation. After all, one should wake up from a nap well rested, invigorated, ready to hop up and hurry about one’s business. Darryl wondered just how long he’d been asleep, how long he’d been unconscious, how long he’d been under…

XynKroma. That’s where he’d been. And he was well aware that excursions in the realm, while seeming to last for several hours or even days, actually took place in the duration of a finger-snap according to the manner of time-flow on Reality’s surface, or at least according to the manner of time-flow on the planet Earth. An exit from the realm always put the traveler into a long, deep sleep. Darryl knew a deep sleep for him after leaving the realm averaged about seven hours. Always a risk. He was supposed to take his medication about every three hours. Something in the back of his mind, though, told him not to worry about it this time. All the drugs to which he’d been exposed recently had probably been formulated to take the place of his usual pills; he would’ve been no good to his abductors dead. And however long he’d been lying dead-to-the-world in this brick-hard bed, now that he was awake, Darryl knew there was work to do, affairs he needed to finish.

He tried moving his left arm again. His entire body was sore. He remembered the how and why of it, but—never mind—Darryl knew he had to get up.

He bent both of his arms enough to get them into a position where they could help him sit up. While grunting, wincing, and taking long, halting breaths through clenched teeth, Darryl imagined and moved as if his bones had been transmuted into eggshells and his skin had been remade from their boiled yolks. His bones felt as if they would crack at any moment, and his skin as if it would do nothing to prevent the broken pieces from jutting through, causing even more pain. But with a sustained effort, and without breaking anything (plenty had already been broken by others), Darryl managed to get to his feet.

A quick self-examination showed the Killer Vees had left him completely naked. His boxer shorts had gone the way of his other clothes, and his watches. His attention turned to his throbbing left hand. It took only a second to locate the source of the discomfort. His middle and ring fingers had a tight new metallic decoration. The Vees had given him a replacement for the watches. Darryl smirked at the sight of it, shook his head, and looked away to survey his surroundings.

He’d been placed in a small and tidy room that had only four blank, white walls, one full-sized bed, a bedside nightstand, and, on top of it, a lamp. The lamp was unplugged, its bulb missing. He spent a few moments looking harder, looking closer, but there was nothing of interest in the cramped quarters. He began to move toward the door, cursing and fearing for his brittle joints with each step.