“Why did he leave, Mr. Backman?”
“He was a boy, and he did not understand that with our gifts the Backmans behave as we choose, we are not bound by ordinary rules. We fought, always fought. One evening he said I was crazy, that I was using him, and I lost my temper and beat him. It never occurred to me that he would leave, but he did, and that was his choice. That left Grace and Blessed with us, and now only Blessed. I believe Autumn can help him. What she took she can give back. She must stay, Sheriff. Do you wish to live? Do you wish Autumn’s mother to live? If so, you must convince the child to stay here, with her grandfather, with her uncle.”
Ethan said, “Listen to me, sir, you must. You believe her mother and I can convince Autumn to stay. But Autumn doesn’t want to be here, and when she meets you, I doubt she’ll be leaping into your lap. She loves her mother, and if you harm me or her mother, she will never trust you, and she will find a way to leave, or to do you in. You must let her go.”
Theodore’s old voice was shrill. “You will listen to me, Sheriff. I have lost too much to let her go. No, Sheriff. The child will not leave Twilight.”
Ethan laughed. “Twilight? I don’t see any sky. Being in this place is like being buried alive.”
Theodore slammed his fist onto the arm of his throne. “You will be quiet! You are common, Sheriff, and you understand nothing. I am having Autumn brought in, and you will convince her. You will tell her if she does not stay with me, you will die. Do you understand? I am her grandfather. She will come to accept that. If you value your life, you will help us come to terms.”
The old man slowly pulled a gun from the sleeve of his robe, then pressed a button on the arm of his chair.
Ethan heard the door open behind him. He turned to see Caldicot come into the room, his hand around Autumn’s arm, shoving Joanna in front of him. Autumn pulled and pushed at him, trying to get to her mother, but he wouldn’t allow it.
Whistler tightened his hold on the little girl’s arm. Why was she still fighting him? Didn’t she realize how important she was to all their future plans? Didn’t she realize how lucky she was, what incredible power she had, a power they would teach her to use? If only he could do what she’d done to Blessed—he’d prayed for such a talent. “Stop fighting me,” he yelled down at her, and shook her arm.
“You leave her alone, you bastard!” Joanna dove at him, but her hands were tied behind her and she could only butt her head against him.
Whistler wanted to backhand the woman, but he merely shoved her hard, sending her to the floor. He shouted down at the child, “Look, that’s your grandfather over there! Your grandfather! Your daddy’s father! Get control of yourself!”
Autumn’s eyes went blank, her pupils fixed. She became still, no expression at all on her small face.
Whistler grabbed both her arms, shook her again. “What are you doing? Damn you, what are you doing? What are you seeing?”
Joanna jumped up at him.
Ethan yelled, “Let her go!”
Whistler sent his fist into the woman’s jaw, knocking her backward. He saw the sheriff coming at him and grabbed the little girl around her chest and hauled her back against him. He raised his right hand, and Ethan saw a snub-nosed .38. “Stay back, Sheriff, or I’ll shoot you! Or her, I don’t care.”
“Caldicot, don’t harm Autumn!” Theodore yelled. “Bring her to me. Then you can take the mother and the sheriff out. Look at her eyes—her eyes are like Blessed’s, the intensity burns within her.”
She was looking off, away from all of them, seeing something he couldn’t see. “What are you doing, child? What are you doing?”
70
WINNETT, NORTH CAROLINA
Victor heard something, like the rustling of leaves beneath someone’s foot, someone who was trying to walk really quietly. Lissy? He raised his gun and turned toward the sound.
Bernie watched Victor unwind and slowly get to his feet, his gun swinging around him. Bernie hadn’t heard anything.
Was it a cop? Lissy coming back? He couldn’t do anything except wait and work at the damned duct tape on his hands.
From the trees he heard Lissy’s excited voice: “Hey, Victor. Look at what I’ve got me!”
She wasn’t alone. Bernie didn’t want to believe it. Dillon Savich, his leg wounded, his belt wrapped around it, limped in front of Lissy.
She did a little dance. “The macho man told me all the cops in this pitiful town are on the other side of the woods, waiting for us to waltz out. All of them but one. Yep, a young deputy nearly walked right into me before I nailed him. Then Special Agent Savich here comes running to save him. See what I did, Victor? I shot him in the leg.”
Victor stared at Savich, a complete stranger to him, except for his picture in the papers. Lissy was still dancing in place, she was so excited.
Victor said, “It makes sense he’d bring all the local cops in. I’m thinking they probably found our car. It’s going to be tough for us to get out of here.”
Lissy waved her gun around. “Big deal, a bunch of hick clucks, probably as brainless as the one I shot.” She giggled. “Do you know, if I raise my face to the sky and breathe in, I can actually smell cops?” She shoved her gun into Savich’s back. “This is my prize cop. Just look at his leg, he’s not going to kick me anymore. Sit down, pretty boy, next to Bernie with the two little kiddies.” Lissy started lightly rubbing her chest. When she saw Savich looking at her, she dropped her hand.
They were maybe a hundred yards inside the police line, Savich thought, in the thick trees that ringed the area, on high ground. He and Lissy had trekked slowly through the unending maze of oak trees, at least a quarter mile of woods, to this small hollow that sat on a sharp rise. Through the trees, he could see Victor’s apartment building and the front of the ramshackle house where he’d left Sherlock and Cully.
He said to Bernie, “You okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay, I just feel really stupid.”
“Shut up,” Victor said. “I don’t want you two talking, you got that? Sit down next to him and don’t try anything.” Victor pointed his gun right at Savich as he slowly eased down against an oak trunk, stretching out his wounded leg in front of him. He eased his belt loose, studied the wound. It had stopped bleeding. He pulled the belt off.
“Why’d you bring him here, Lissy? Why didn’t you just put a bullet through his head where you found him?”
“Big boy here tells me he’s got lots more juice than poor Bernie with the two little kids, says we need a hostage cops will listen to and he’s the only one who can get us out of here. What do you think?”
Victor looked from Savich to Bernie, then back to Lissy. “I don’t like it, but I gotta admit, he does have more juice. Maybe he could get us out.”
She cocked her head to one side and stroked her long, graceful fingers over her jaw. “When he does get us away, well, then, maybe you should be the one to put a bullet between his eyes, Victor I’m thinking you need the practice. Remember you didn’t have the balls to kill that highway patrol cop, even after I told you to punch her between the eyes?”
Victor’s fist shot out so fast Lissy didn’t have a chance. His fist smashed into her jaw. She reeled back, falling. Savich was halfway to his feet, his leg on fire, when Lissy screamed, “You sit back down to I’ll put a bullet in Bernie! You got that, Mr. Special Agent? He’ll be dead and it’ll be all your fault!”