Seth was crashing. No way to halt the downward trajectory. Lights flashing, people talking in loud voices, faceless uniforms asking him questions on which he couldn't focus enough to answer. The McClouds were dealing with it, and he was numbly grateful to them.
At some point, he realized that Novak wasn't dead. Close to it, from the looks of him, but medics were sticking tubes into him. They wouldn't bother to do so if he were a corpse.
Great. He'd failed at that, too. Jesse was still not avenged.
But the part of him that cared was buried under a hundred tons of broken rock. He sat on the bloodstained floor and watched Raine cry. There was a yawning expanse between them. Huge and echoing and endless. She was still crying as they zipped Victor into a black body bag, and he couldn't figure out why. The guy was an icy-hearted murderer who had put out a contract on her father and ruined her life. It baffled him so much he had to stumble closer and ask her. “Why?”
She scrubbed at her wet eyes with grimy hands. “Why what?”
“Why are you crying for the man who killed your father?”
The medic was fussing at her, but Raine ignored him. The two of them were utterly elsewhere, locked in a glass bell of frigid silence. Her wet eyes glittered at him with an unearthly silver brilliance.
“He did not kill my father,” she said. “He is my father. I'll grieve for him if I damn well please.”
She reached inside his jacket, rummaging around. He stared down, numb and unresisting. Whatever. She could shoot him or stab him if she pleased. He didn't have the energy to knock her hand away.
Her grubby hand emerged, clutching the glittering opal pendant. “I'll keep this,” she said “As a memento of my father.”
He stared down at the blue-green fire that flashed beneath the milky surface of the stone. “That was how they found us,” he said.
She nodded and stuffed the necklace into her pocket. “I didn't plant it on purpose. And I followed you because I wanted to warn you. Of course you'll never believe me. Really, I don't know why I bother.”
He shook his head. “Raine—”
“Believe what you want. I no longer care what you think,” she said. “You're a cold, vicious bastard, but I'm glad you're not dead. I wouldn't want that on my conscience, along with everything else.”
The medic draped a blanket around her shoulders and led her away. She didn't look back at him. They must have given her a shot of something really strong, because everything floated away, leaving her all alone in the white mist. Once she thought she saw Seth, but that had to be a dream, because Victor and Peter were standing on either side of him. She reached out, but her hand fell short and flopped down onto the sheet, limp and useless. “Are we both dead then?” she asked him.
“No,” he answered. His eyes looked hollow and sad.
She tried to capture him with the eye spell, as always, but her eyes wouldn't stay open, and it was she who was floating away, not him. She lunged for him, trying to lasso him with words. “I love you. Don't die.”
“I won't,” he said. She drifted back out into the white mist, clutching that promise like a life raft.
The next time she woke, she knew she wasn't dead, because her mother was sitting by the bed. Her expression was that of a cat lying in wait outside a mousehole. Nothing was more earthly and concrete than Alix when she had that look on her face.
“It's about time you woke up, Lorraine. You scared me half to death. You look terrible. Black eyes, scrapes, cuts, sprains, cracked ribs, a dislocated shoulder, torn cartilage. You are a mess. You just had to run out and do every single thing I've been telling you not to do your whole life! Contrary. Just like your father.”
“Which one?” she whispered.
Raine drifted away before she could enjoy Alix's shocked expression.
Chapter 28
He ran the clip back, and played it again. It was from the Colbit that overlooked the floating dock at Stone Island. He'd sneaked out and collected this batch last night. Ninety-six hours of footage. He'd spliced all the pieces with Raine in them into a montage. This six-minute clip was his favorite bit.
She emerged from the trees and walked slowly down onto the dock. The bruises on her face were almost gone. Her hair flowed long and loose around her body. She was wearing a soft, clingy white shirt. No bra, he noticed. Her nipples jutted out. She needed a jacket. It bothered him that she didn't think to put one on. She never took care of herself. If he were with her, he would insist on a jacket.
A gust of wind blew her hair away from her face. She wrapped her arms around herself and stared out over the water, her face faraway. Like she was waiting for something. Or someone.
He heard a car coming up the driveway. He leaned out the open door of the Chevy and peered down the road It was Connor's car. He clicked away the video clip and snapped the laptop shut. Comments from Connor about his obsessive pastime were the last thing he needed.
Connor got out of his car and limped over to the Chevy. He leaned on his cane and nodded. “Hey.”
“What's up?” Seth was having a hard time feigning interest in the mopping-up details, but he tried, out of politeness.
“I just got a call from Nick, down at the Cave. Novak's going to make it. Sean's shot to the chest just hit Kevlar. Paranoid bastard. And your shot to the thigh barely missed the femoral artery. Bummer.”
Seth grunted in disgust. “I should have aimed for his head.”
“Console yourself with the fact that he lost a few more fingers on his left hand, thanks to you. That's going to piss him off no end, once he comes to his senses.”
How about Riggs?”
“In jail, licking his wounds. No bail.”
“And his daughter?”
Connor's face tightened. “Erin's fine. She hates my guts, of course, but that's to be expected. She told me that Georg never touched her, but I rearranged his nice and various other parts of his body anyhow, just for thinking about it. He'll be pissing blood for a while yet.” His lips curved in a small, grim smile. “The big house should be a lot of fun for a pretty yellow-haired boy like him.”
Seth took hold of Connor's cane, and jerked it out of his hand. “Do you use this thing for show, to get workman's comp, or do you just get off on carrying around an extra weapon?”
Connor yanked the cane back and twirled it with eye-blurring speed. “You can do a lot of damage with this baby if you're quick.”
A deer wandered through the meadow, about twenty yards away from them. They watched it stroll by, calm and unconcerned. The world went on. Jesse was still dead. Novak was still alive. The deer munched idly on the yellowed tips of the meadow grass.
The screen door slammed. The buck sprang up and bounded into the trees, swift and silent Sean sauntered over to the Chevy. “Hi, Connor. Yo, Seth, your buddy Kearns just called, for the sixth time. Call him back, for fuck's sake. He’s worried about you.”
“He'll live. Besides, I'm leaving. I'll talk to him when I get home.”
“Sure you will. You've been saying that for eight days. Not that it's a problem. Stay as long as you like.” Sean grinned and stuck his hands in his pockets. “As long as it takes to work up the nerve to go get her.”
Seth slanted him a stare that made most people start stammering and backing away. It had no effect upon Sean. He just flashed his dimples and waited.
“Mind your business, Sean,” Connor said.
“I've been minding my business all week. I'm bored,” Sean said cheerfully. “What's the hold-up? I'd be prostrated in front of that dynamite babe with my tongue rolled out like a red carpet if I were you.”
Seth thought of Raine's parting words. “She's Lazar's daughter.”