The Cure. Part 18

Right, Leah. And they'll just let you go. After all, murdering criminals are famous for trusting people.

Not.

More likely they'd simply kill her.

Even with my Power gone, it continues to curse me.

Still, over the years she'd done a lot of good. John was right in that respect. She'd Cured hundreds of animals, made countless pet owners happy. Would she do it all over again, knowing what would eventually happen? Probably. If it weren't for Chast.i.ty's death, and John's life being in danger, it would be more than a fair trade.

A memory popped up from when she'd been shot trying to rescue John. She'd had a dream of being Jesus. Rather than blasphemous, the comparison seemed oddly appropriate. Two people with the Power to Cure the sick. One sacrificed himself so that his followers could be saved. And that was what she was doing now, in a way. Sacrificing her life to keep other people safe. Not that she felt saintly or G.o.dlike, but the situation seemed to prove that "acts of kindness rarely go unpunished." Another of her mother's sayings.

My mother, who I Cured of cancer. And what did that act of kindness get me? Decades of tiptoeing around the truth, one of the few parts of our relationship that isn't perfect.

Secrets. Lies. Loneliness. Sadness. Violence. Death. What a list of consequences from having a so-called Power to do good.

I'm so much better off without it.

A middle-aged woman sat down in the seat across from her and cleared her throat. "Excuse me, miss. Do you have the time?"

Still deep in her own thoughts, Leah looked up at the clock. "Yes, its- Ow!"

A sharp pain in her shoulder made her turn around. Two well-dressed men stood behind her, one of them sliding a syringe back into his jacket pocket. Leah tried to scream but her mouth refused to open. At the same time, her body went limp and she was aware of the floor sliding up to meet her.

It's not the floor sliding, it's me. I've been drugged!

Her entire body felt wrapped in cotton, her senses of touch and hearing dulled and warped by the drugs. Only her vision remained clear, although she couldn't move her eyes to look in different directions. Her body rose again and she caught glimpses of the two men standing at her sides. Then her head drooped forward and all she saw were the tiles of the bus-station floor flowing past in a river of filthy gray.

Garbled voices reached her, some louder than others, the jumbled words disappearing and returning like a poorly tuned radio station.

"...what's wrong with...it's okay, we know...suffers from...escaped...call the...no, we have...be fine..."

Then she was outside, which she could tell because the gray tiles disappeared, replaced by cracked cement. The two men lifted her into a van and laid her on the floor. With her head facing up, she was finally able to see their faces. Neither of them looked familiar. Then the woman from the bus station stepped into view, and she did look familiar.

Even more so when she pulled her hair off.

You, Leah wanted to say, recognizing the man called Del.

He must have seen the comprehension in her eyes, because he nodded. "Nice to see you again, Doctor DeGarmo. Have a nice sleep."

This time the pinp.r.i.c.k in her arm was barely noticeable.

The last thing she saw was Del's face growing fuzzy.

Leah woke up with the worst headache she'd ever felt, worse even than the time she'd done too many tequila shots at a college party. That one had lasted almost fifteen minutes, while her drinking partners had all ended up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning. At the time she'd thought she'd been lucky. It was only looking back, years later, that she understood it was more likely a side effect of her Power that kept her from getting her stomach pumped. And earned her a reputation for being immune to tequila.

This hangover showed no signs of letting up, and she wondered what kinds of drugs she'd been given.

That man. Del. It was him. Dressed like a woman.

Dammit. I should have stayed on the bus.

No, she consoled herself. It wouldn't have made a difference. If they had the audacity to drug her and carry her off in public, in broad daylight, then they'd have had no worries about boarding an empty bus to take her. Which brought up the next question.

Where had they taken her?

At the moment there was no way to tell. She was on a hard, cold floor of some kind, tile or maybe wood, her hands tied in front of her. The only light came from a nearby computer monitor, which showed the swirling, twisting rainbow colors of a screen saver. The monitor sat on a desk, but she couldn't see beyond that, couldn't tell how large the room was or what else it contained.

A scream threatened to break loose from her throat and she clenched her jaw, fighting the urge to give in to her panic. It terrified her that there could be a dozen men with guns not ten feet away and she'd never even be aware of their presence. Adding to her fear was the knowledge that something far worse awaited her, especially when Del found out she was no use to him anymore.

Leah forced herself to take deep breaths, which wasn't easy because the air stank of something foul, something that reminded her of the dissection labs in vet school. Was she in a morgue? G.o.d, she hoped not. Dead bodies all around...

Stop it!

She couldn't afford to freak out, not now. That could come later, if and when she got out of this latest mess. She laid her head against the floor, the chilly surface serving as a cold compress against her temple, bringing a bit of very welcome relief to her aching brain.

After a time, her rapid heartbeat slowed down, bringing a further easing of her pain as the pounding in her skull diminished. With the headache retreating to a manageable level, she was able to think more clearly.

Somehow Del had followed her-had probably been watching her all along-and now that he had her again, odds were he was planning on completing whatever scheme he'd had in mind for her the first time he'd taken her.

"You're going to make me a lot of money," he'd said, or something to that effect. Was he planning on hiring her services to people like Nova and Marsh? Turn her into some kind of hit woman for hire? Or did he have something even more horrible in mind, like selling her to the mob?

Or a foreign government?

Images of being held captive by terrorists raced through her head, and her panic returned full force. Locked in a cell forever, starved, beaten, forced to constantly kill- Wait. I can't Cure anymore. But Del doesn't know that. And if he wants me to kill people, that means I have to Cure someone first... Oh G.o.d.

John.

Del knew about John. He was the only leverage Del-or anyone else-had against Leah. Which meant they probably had him locked away somewhere as well, or were in the process of kidnapping him. And when they found out Leah couldn't Cure anymore, it wouldn't be just her life that was forfeit. It would be John's too because he was a witness.

No! It's not fair!

She'd run away to keep John safe, and she'd still basically condemned him to death.

They're going to come for me, and that will mean John's been shot or poisoned again. And what will I be able to do? Nothing. There's no way I can fake Curing someone. I'll have to stand there and watch him die. And I can't bear to see that happen.

Better they kill me first.

And how to accomplish that?

"I'll find a way," she whispered to the dark room.

Chapter Three.

Del's men came for her sooner than Leah expected. Or maybe she'd been dozing longer than she thought. Between the drugs and being alone in the dark room, her sense of time was completely out of whack.

There was no warning to their entry; one minute everything was gray and silent, and the next a door opened, flooding the room with blinding light. She cried out and turned her head away, blinking back tears until she could open her eyes without pain.

"Let's go," the taller man said. She thought it might have been one of the two who'd pulled her out of the bus station, but she couldn't be sure.

"Where are you taking me?" Not that it mattered. Wherever it was, only death awaited her. Still, as resigned to her fate as she felt, a spark of resistance remained inside her.

"The man wants to talk to you," her shorter captor said.

"You mean Del?" she asked as they lifted her to her feet. The two men glanced at each other, and one raised an eyebrow to his companion, but neither responded.

As they led her down a long hallway randomly lit by fluorescent bulbs, the rotten smell that had a.s.saulted her earlier grew stronger, as if they were moving toward its source. It only took a few breaths for the odor to send her stomach into spasms, especially when she recognized some of the components of the stench.

Blood. Raw flesh.

Jesus, where the h.e.l.l am I?

Her legs started to buckle, and the hands gripping her arms tightened their hold with bruising force.

"Relax, Doc. This ain't that kind of visit. You do what the man says and you'll be back in your little cave all safe and sound."

That's what you think. Leah held back a moan. The two men thought she was afraid of dying. If only they knew the truth-she'd welcome death if it meant John could go free. And they were also wrong about her safety. She'd never be returning to the dark room they'd had her in, not once she showed Del her Power was gone.

A door stood open at the end of the hall and the men steered her through it. When she saw Del sitting at a plain wooden desk, a cell phone to his ear, she knew her worse fears were about to come true. This time she didn't try to fight the whimper that escaped her. One of the men laughed softly as he pushed her into a vacant folding chair, and she felt a moment of indignation that dissipated as soon as it formed.

Let him laugh. What does it matter anymore?

Del smiled at her, held up a finger in an "I'll be with you in a moment" gesture and continued talking on the phone. Although she could only hear his end of the conversation, she got the idea he was setting up a meeting of some kind for the following day.

A meeting she was sure involved her in some way. A demonstration? Or maybe he'd already sold her? Looking at his boyish, nondescript features, she wondered how such an ordinary face could hide such a terrible person. At least Tal Nova had the decency to look like a murdering criminal. This Del person could sit next to you on a plane or bus, and you'd never know you were two feet from a cold-blooded killer.

Which was probably what made him so good at his job.

He thumbed the phone off and turned to her.

"Hi, Doc. Good to see you again. How are you feeling?"

If you didn't know better, you'd think he really meant it.

"I feel like s.h.i.t, thanks to all those drugs." Except as she said it, she realized it wasn't true. Her headache was finally fading as the drugs left her system; all that remained was the nausea from the terrible stink filling the air.

"Sorry about that. But it's a pretty good bet you wouldn't have come with us willingly. What's in Cleveland?"

The question caught her by surprise, and for a moment she didn't understand what he was talking about. Then she remembered the bus ticket she'd bought.

"Nothing. A new life." Dammit, why am I answering him?

"A new life? Without your boyfriend?" Del raised his eyebrows in exaggerated surprise.

The mention of John sent a chill through Leah that had nothing to do with the cool air in the building. Did they have him here as well?

Del's next words confirmed her suspicions.

"I hate to see lovers separated. So you'll be glad to know Mr. Police Officer is resting safely not far from here."

"Please don't-" Leah stopped herself. What good was begging? It was obvious they intended to hurt him. Del already knew John was the key to getting her to use her Power.

"Don't what? Kill him? That's up to you. Play nice and he stays alive." Del's expression grew dark and menacing, as if the killer inside him had surfaced, and suddenly he was very scary indeed. "Try using your powers against me or my men, though, and I'll chop him into so many pieces even you couldn't ever put him back together again."

His words reminded her that she'd killed one of his men, pa.s.sed on John's sickness and Del's own gunshot wound all at once. Did he feel hatred towards her for that?

Enough to kill her right here and now if she gave him the opportunity? She opened her mouth, fully intending to tell him that she'd lost the ability to Cure.

Nothing came out.

The words, so clear in her head, refused to leave her throat, leaving her gaping like a freshly caught fish.

"Don't look so surprised, Doc. You think I'm doing this for entertainment purposes? You're my retirement package, and I'll be d.a.m.ned if you ruin things for me by pulling some stunt like you did the other day. Now, you behave during tomorrow's little presentation, and I'll let you see your boyfriend afterward, maybe even have a little snuggle time. Consider it a reward for a job well done. If you don't, well, then your last memory of him won't be a pleasant one. Do we understand each other?"

Leah's inner turmoil turned into full-blown confusion. John was definitely in the building somewhere! And whatever they had planned for her, it didn't involve him. Which meant she could have a chance to say goodbye, to apologize for destroying his life.

If you do what Del asks.

And if she couldn't do it, he'd kill her.

"I'll take that as a yes," Del said, breaking in on her thoughts. "Have a nice night, Doc. Tomorrow's gonna be a great day." He motioned with his hand and his two men stepped forward and took her by the arms.

The walk back to her makeshift cell was a blur as Leah tried to make sense of the possibilities. Her thoughts were still in a whirl when the men locked the door. A tray sat on the desk, with a sandwich and a can of soda. The sight of them set her stomach rumbling and she grabbed the food as best she could with her hands still tied. The idea it might be drugged crossed her mind, but she didn't stop eating. A drug-induced sleep would actually be preferable to spending the night awake and worrying.

When she finished, Leah sat down on the floor and finally let loose the tears she'd been holding back. Sometime tomorrow she and John would both die. The only uncertainty would be who went first.

She prayed it was her.

She was still crying softly when the sedatives in her food took effect and put her to sleep.

Chapter Four.

Leah woke to find a man bending over her, shaking her arm.