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    "Do you see now why I wanted you to stay off the streets and out of sight?"

    She nodded meekly. "Yes."

    "I'm sure you thought I was being overprotective and exaggerating the risk. But I've been proven right, haven't I? Consider what has happened to you since you escaped Henry. You have been living a nightmare, am I correct?"

    Dawn bowed her head. Had she ever.

    "Totally."

    "Home, Georges," he said.

    That reminded her. She looked up. "Where… where's Henry?"

    "Henry has been… sacked. Discharged for dereliction of duty."

    "But it was totally my fault. I—"

    "No"—his voice turned to ice, taking on a tone that pressed her back into her seat—"it was not. He made choices. Bad ones. You will never see him again." His tone softened, just barely. "You almost had the baby aborted, didn't you."

    The car glided uptown.

    He wasn't asking a question. Obviously he knew the answer, so she simply nodded.

    "Do you realize that you might very well be dead now if you'd succeeded? You'd have been no further use to Bethlehem and he would have killed you."

    "I never saw him."

    "Then he would have ordered you killed. And his equally vicious and deranged brother would have done it."

    Speaking of deranged…

    "Who were those monks and why did they kidnap me? I totally thought you'd sent them to rescue me."

    A cold smile flickered. "Me? Send them? I hardly think so."

    "But how did you get me out?"

    "Bethlehem's people came to steal you back, and while they were all otherwise engaged, I simply carried you to my car and we drove away. Isn't that right, Georges."

    "Correct, Master."

    Master, she thought. Here we go again.

    "Was Jerry there?"

    Mr. Osala shook his head. "Unfortunately not. A fair number of his brother's followers were killed, but he was not among them. You can read the details in the paper tomorrow."

    "But what were you doing on the roof of the car?"

    He reached up and turned out the courtesy light. "Be still now. I wish to be alone with my thoughts."

    He turned and stared out the windshield as the car moved uptown.

    Dawn hugged her arms around her. Back to Mr. Osala's penthouse. Another sort of prison, but at least it was safe.

    And safety had a lot going for it right now.

17

    Still.

    Jack lifted his head and looked around. The wind had died and the night was brighter. Stars shone and the cloud was gone as if it had never been.

    His left fingers felt wet. He looked and saw that a pool of blood from the dead shoten's throat had spread to his hand. He struggled to his knees and waited until the roof steadied and the stars stopped spinning. Then he wiped his fingers on the dead man's pants leg, and did the same with the sword.

    He forced himself to his feet and sheathed the blade. As he staggered toward the roof exit he picked up his Glock and Kel-Tec.

    Had to get downstairs and find Dawn, then get the hell out of this building.

    He made it to the first floor, almost falling a couple of times along the way. The first sign of life he saw was the two pseudoguards in the front foyer. They looked dead at first, then he saw their chests move. Alive, but barely.

    Why was he up and about? Less exposure?

    Whatever. They'd stashed Dawn in the basement before, so that was probably where they had her now. Trouble was, how was he going to get her out? If she was in any shape similar to those two in the foyer, he was going to have to carry her, and he could barely stand.

    As he approached the basement door it opened. He stopped, pulled his Glock, and waited.

    For a few heartbeats, nothing happened. And then a shaggy, bandaged head appeared near the bottom of the opening, gradually followed by the rest of a Kicker crawling out on his hands and knees.

    Jack put a foot on his back and pushed him down.

    "Hey!" His voice was barely audible.

    "Where's the girl?"

    "Gotta get help for Hank." His face was against the floor. "He's in a bad way."

    Jack pressed harder. "The girl—she in there?"

    "No. Scary guy took her." It seemed to take all his energy to talk.

    "Who?"

    "Guy with scary eyes."

    Jack had a feeling he knew who he meant.

    "And you just let him take her?"

    "Paralyzed us."

    No doubt about it now.

    Rasalom.

    Shit. What did he want with her?

    No use in hanging around. He pushed his way back up the steps. The guys in the foyer were starting to twitch. Jack reeled past them and out into the night where he found Veilleur's car idling at the curb.

    Jack dropped into the passenger seat.

    "The girl?" Veilleur said.

    "Gone. Your old friend took her."

    When Veilleur said nothing Jack glanced at him and saw a worried look on his face.

    "What?"

    The old man shook his head. "I don't like this."

    "Yeah, well, you can see him being drawn to a super oDNA being, I guess, being filled with a sort of Otherness and all, but what can he do with it?"

    Veilleur's expression turned grim. "I don't know, but I can guarantee without hesitation that, whatever his plan, it is grim tidings for the rest of us."

18

    "You're sure you're all right?" Veilleur said as he pulled to a stop on Sutton Square.

    Beyond the East River, dawn was pinking the sky over Queens. The yellow front of Gia's townhouse beckoned.

    Jack nodded. "Yeah." Then shook his head. "No. But I will be after I get inside."

    Strengthwise he was maybe eighty percent, but emotionally he remained spent. The Kuroikaze had sucked something out of him and he knew of only one place where it could be replenished.

    But that wasn't why he'd told Veilleur to drop him here. He wanted to make sure they were okay.

    Veilleur sighed. "Count your blessings. It's wonderful to have people you love to turn to."

    "You mentioned a wife…"

    He nodded sadly. "Perhaps I should have said, People you love who recognize you when you step into the room."

    So that was it. Poor guy.

    "I guess tonight got to you after all then."

    Veilleur looked at him. "Got to me?"

    "You know—all the blood, death, and dismemberment. It looked like it was just rolling off your back."

    "Why shouldn't it? This was nothing, Jack. Compared to what I've seen, this was a pinprick on a whale's hide. You have no idea, you cannot conceive of the atrocities Ra—the Adversary has perpetrated down the millennia. Too often I've had to wade through the aftermath, looking for him. Multiply what you saw tonight millions of times and you'll have the barest inkling of what we can expect if the Otherness is allowed in."

    Dismayed, Jack shook his head. "You're a buzzkill even when there's no buzz."

    Jack offered his hand and they shook.

    "Thanks for the lift."

    He got out with the katana and watched Glaeken drive off. Then he let himself into the townhouse as quietly as he could. As he closed the door and put the katana in the umbrella stand he heard someone crying upstairs.

    "Vicky?"

    He dashed up to the second floor where he found a terrified-looking Gia cringing on the bed with Vicky. She was wearing an oversized Iowa State T-shirt and little else; Vicky wore shorty pajamas.