“You’re the one throwing wild parties upstairs. What was I supposed to do? Not get laid?” Black scoffed. “Anyway, our friend pulled one of his vanishing stunts at the end, and I’ve hunted his kind long enough now to know it’s a waste of time to try and find him after that. But it doesn’t matter. I know where he’s going.”
“Where?” St. Luke growled impatiently, his blue eyes so bright with anger they almost seemed to glow.
Black smiled at the light. “Remember I told you there was a doctor?” he said casually. “Well, she was a real piece of work. She stopped him from killing the bum and managed to reverse the transformation. But it gets even better.”
St. Luke arched an eyebrow. “Actually better, or better in that it amuses you?”
“Both,” Lincoln said. “The doctor got some of the green junk on her hands, and wouldn’t you know, it didn’t work. Strongest crap we had, and she just shrugged it off. All she got was some burned fingers.”
“That’s impossible,” St. Luke said. “No one can take that much concentrated sin.”
Black spread his arms wide. “Hey, man, I’m just reporting what I saw. But what you’re missing here is that Mr. Holy Warrior saw it, too, and it got him good. He spoke more words to that girl than I’ve heard him say in decades. There’s no way he’ll let her go. Way I see it, we just got a chance to take down two birds with one stone.”
St. Luke saw it, too, but he was already thinking bigger. “Can you?”
“That depends,” Black said. “You’re asking me to take out our oldest enemy and the doctor who impressed him, and move your plan ahead at the same time. That’s a lot more than two birds for this one stone. I can still do it, but it’s going to make a pretty big mess.”
“So what?” St. Luke said dismissively, turning to gaze into the black cube at the center of his lab. “Now you see why I brought Korigan in. Your ‘messes’ are his problem from tonight forward, so do what you have to do. We’ve fought too long and too hard to tolerate risks this close to the end, and a SEE warrior in the city represents a catastrophic risk. I want him dead, and I want the doctor dealt with as well. I don’t know what her story is, but anyone who can shrug off the effects of the Emerald Compound is too good for this world.” He paused, before finally looking up at Black and saying, “I don’t care how you do it, but I want both problems taken care of and all of this pushed into the next phase by tomorrow. Understood?”
Rather than answer, Black just tucked his sword into his belt and reached down, gathering up as many boxes of Z3X—both the concentrated green liquid form and the black powder—as he could fit in his arms. When he was loaded down, he gave St. Luke a final wink and walked off, whistling a cheery tune as he made his way back toward the elevator.
Satisfied that his predator was on the hunt, St. Luke put the matter out of his mind and returned his gaze to the black cube at the center of his lab, staring into its endless depths lovingly before yelling at his lab staff—who were still staring in horror at the massive chunk Black had taken out of their supplies—to get back to work.
They had a city’s worth of orders to fill.
5
False Signs
The coming of the lawless one is by the activity of Satan with all power and false signs and wonders.
Technically, the drive south from Mercy Hospital to her father’s home in Englewood took fifteen minutes. Thanks to the time dilation effect of awkward silences, though, Lauryn would have placed it closer to fifteen hours.
She sat awkwardly in the passenger seat of her father’s car, staring out the window at the dark city. About halfway through, thick, wet snow started to fall, covering everything in a muffling blanket until all Lauryn could hear was the putter of the engine, the soft strains of the ever-present gospel music from the car radio, and the pointed huff of her father’s angry breathing. Even so, it wasn’t until they stopped at the light that marked the entrance to Lauryn’s childhood neighborhood that he finally said what he’d clearly been thinking since they left.
“You should have called me.”
The words were full of recrimination, but Lauryn was too tired to even roll her eyes. “There was no point,” she said. “Everything was under control. By the time I had a chance to call, I was already fine. It wasn’t a big deal, Dad.”
“You were attacked,” Maxwell said, his big preacher’s voice filling the car until her ears rang. “How is that not a big deal?”
“It was scary when it was happening,” she admitted. “But I couldn’t have called you in the middle, could I?”
“So why didn’t you call when you got to the hospital?” he argued back. “I had to find out from someone else!” His hands tightened on the leather-wrapped steering wheel. “I’m your father. Your family. You should have told me.”
“Why?” Lauryn demanded. “So you could be worried, too? I’m twenty-seven, Dad. I’m also a doctor. I know when to call in families, and I can definitively say that a burned hand is not a medical emergency. The only reason I was even admitted was because there was a chance I’d been exposed to narcotics, but even that turned out to be nothing. There was absolutely no medical reason for me to call you and ruin your night as well.”
That was the logical truth, but Maxwell’s scowl just got deeper. “You still should have called,” he growled, tapping the gas as the light turned green. “Grown or not, children should have more respect for their parents.”
Lauryn gave up after that, slumping down as far as she could into the Buick’s cushy seat. Seriously, her father could take offense at anything. The worst part was, she had actually considered calling while she’d been stuck in bed waiting for test results. The only reason she hadn’t was because it was Wednesday. Wednesdays were potluck and choir practice at the church. If she’d done as he’d asked and called, her dad would have scolded her for interrupting his work. As always, there was just no winning with her father, so Lauryn decided to stop trying. Her goal tonight was to get Maxwell off her back, get some sleep, and get back to her normal life first thing tomorrow.
Thankfully, by the time they pulled up to the modest two-story house she’d grown up in, it was late enough to go straight to bed without the usual small talk. Lauryn popped out of the car like a cork the moment it rolled to a stop in front of her dad’s postage-stamp yard. It was a sign of how upset she was that she made it all the way to the porch steps before noticing the other car that was taking up her father’s tiny driveway: a brand-new souped-up electric-blue Dodge Charger.
“What is that?”
It didn’t seem possible after their previous discussion, but her father’s voice grew even more disapproving. “That’s your brother’s car.”
Her jaw dropped. “That’s Robbie’s? But he’s only nineteen! How the hell—”
“Language,” Maxwell barked.
She gaped at him. “Your son is driving around in a car there’s no way he could legally afford, and you’re worried about my language?”
“Lauryn, that’s enough.”
The hell it was. Twenty minutes ago, going home had been the last thing Lauryn had wanted to do. Now she was kicking herself for not checking in sooner. Robert had always loved to party, and unlike Lauryn, who’d had exams and frantic studying to keep her out of trouble, he never missed a chance to have fun. Combine this with his pathological aversion to anything resembling honest work, and she was certain that shiny new car meant no good. Growing up, if someone in the neighborhood had something this nice, it almost certainly came from working a corner. She was about to march into the house and give her derelict brother a piece of her mind when the front door slammed open, and—as if summoned—a young man in a puffy jacket and spotless white sneakers shot out like a bullet.