Unbounded - The Escape Part 7

"They're at least a hundred years old. Maybe two hundred. Definite antiques."

"Funny, they don't look that old."

"And very valuable."

"Good thing Unbounded have a lot of money." I started walking again, telling myself the cost of the sai didn't mean a thing. I would have a fortune myself someday, once the modest monthly allotment Ava, as my ancestor, had given me matured in the stock market. A century or two did wonders for the pocketbook.

Keene hurried to catch up with me, and I slowed my pace slightly. No use wearing the man out before we arrived at the townhouse. "The point is that he gave them to you."

I lifted a brow. An odd emotion emanated from his surface thoughts, something that seemed an awful lot like jealousy. Yet it wasn't like Keene to exhibit such emotion. In fact, one of the reasons I liked him so much is that he didn't push or expect more from me than I was willing to give. Not like Ritter. I didn't have to lose myself in him. But Keene was mortal, which added complications while at the same time taking others away. I had to admit that in the months Ritter had been gone before our mission to Mexico, I'd started thinking that maybe it would be a good thing to fall in love with a mortal instead of an Unbounded. No worries about staying together for centuries or bitter breakups. Of having dozens of children and even more posterity to look after.

Of course, losing out to death was the end play of such a relationship, and I didn't think I'd ever come to terms with that finality.

Keene grinned suddenly, as if at a private joke. "Never mind. I'll show you some moves with the sai later, if you'd like."

Relief ran through me. "Sounds good. Provided you can still walk after we're finished here."

"Oh, I'll be able to do a lot more than walk."

His word flirted with desire, though his emotions were unclear, and I didn't want to decipher them. Instead, I pushed out my thoughts along the streets, searching for anything unusual. I could sense the life forces inside the buildings as we pa.s.sed, and I hadn't always been able to at this range, which meant my nightly practice had paid off.

"Man, it's so stinking cold," Mari said, pushing up her costume gla.s.ses.

I had to agree. "At least there's no snow. We're almost there."

Another minute and we reached the outside stairs. Keene rang the doorbell as Mari and I waited tensely, ready to act. Mari wasn't too skilled as a fighter, and once she'd actually fired a gun, she'd taken a dislike to pistols, but unlike me, she was good with knives. In part because she could shift within inches of her target, shove in the knife, and shift instantly away. It was a close and personal way to kill-and it made me appreciate even more the ballistic knife that allowed me more s.p.a.ce. In fact, next to my nine mil, it was the most useful weapon Ritter had ever arranged for me.

The door opened to reveal the woman from last night with the gray-blond hair. Charlaine Emerson, according to Stella, Davis Emerson's wife. No purple dress today, but a comfortable yellow pantsuit that gave her smile added cheerfulness. The outfit was still an expensive piece like the plaid monstrosity, but the designer had opted for comfort rather than flash.

"Yes?" she asked, her wide-set eyes falling across us. Her forehead was also wide, perhaps a little too wide, but her hair swept low to cover it, kept in place by several yellow clips.

"I'm KC Farrell," Keene said. "I have an appointment with your husband."

"Oh, yes, he's expecting you. Come on in."

Heat rushed out at us as we stepped inside. The entryway wasn't vaulted, but was high enough that I didn't feel the ceiling would fall on us. Elegance called attention everywhere I looked, from the travertine on the floor to the gilded picture frames, but it all appeared new, as though no one really lived here. I wondered what Charlaine's house in the country looked like and guessed it would be more casual.

"Please let me take your coats." Charlaine opened a door to the left, which revealed a large walk-in closet, perfect for entertaining. Only a few coats hung on the metal bar, and one on a coatrack in the corner.

Mari cast me a triumphant look as she shrugged out of her coat. With brief hesitation, I gave mine up as well because already the heat of the house threatened to strangle me. There were only five life forces inside, and as long as they weren't all Unbounded, Mari and I could handle them with the weapons we carried in our jeans and boots.

Charlaine led us down a hallway to where the Unbounded bodyguard stood outside a doorway. "They're here," she announced unnecessarily. To us, she added. "Brody will take care of you. I'll bring in some coffee and croissants in a bit. I hope you enjoy them. My grandmother was from France and the croissants are a family recipe." She turned, leaving us alone with the Unbounded.

Brody stuck out his hand toward Keene, and they began a series of handshakes, occasionally exchanging a whispered phrase or two. Something about good hunting and three pa.s.ses of a sword.

No doubt about what that meant. I pushed my thoughts toward Brody, prepared to break through his weak shield, but today he wasn't even blocking. Nothing important stood out in the sand stream of his thoughts except making sure we were legitimate. He finished with Keene and his eyes met mine. He was handsome with deep blue eyes, blond hair and sideburns, and broad across the shoulders like someone accustomed to working out in a gym.

The men finished their strange ritual and turned to us. "This is Jessie, my girlfriend." Keene put his arm around me and pulled me close.

I blinked at him. What? He gave me a tight grin. I looked at Brody and said in a flat voice, "Yeah, we're practically engaged." Next to me, Mari bit her lip as she tried not to laugh.

Brody nodded solemnly. "Good morning." He held out his hand. I really hoped he wasn't going to repeat that whole rigamarole because I wouldn't be able to do it. "It's great that you're both Hunters. I hope I find the right girl someday."

That was laying it on a bit thick.

"Nice to meet you." It seemed the polite thing to say.

"You were there last night." He held my hand longer than necessary, as if trying to remember something he couldn't quite grasp. For the first time I wondered what his ability might be. Probing his mind for the answer brought up nothing, yet he'd picked me out of a crowded room last night, and it was more than a man simply noticing a woman.

"Yes, I was." I noted the pistol at his side, probably a .45 by the size. Pushing closer to his thought stream, I could see nothing that told me he was lying, and no hint of the Emporium. There wasn't any shiny black snake hiding in his thoughts, either.

Yet I was sure he'd singled out Patrick Mann last night, and Patrick was definitely working with the Emporium. So either he knew Patrick, somehow suspected Patrick was Unbounded, or he'd discovered some other way to hide his thoughts from me.

Stop, I told myself. While it paid to be open to new ideas, constantly second-guessing my ability would only get me into trouble.

Brody led us into a sitting room-or across it, rather. The room was large and connected to a library with floor-to-ceiling shelves on three walls. Unlike the other areas we'd seen, the library was more inviting and appeared lived-in, if rather overheated by the roaring gas fireplace nestled between two windows on the only wall without books.

Davis Emerson was seated on a leather easy chair facing us, his brown cowboy hat still perched on his head, but he arose as we approached. Brody nodded at him subtly, and one side of Emerson's mouth twitched in a brief acknowledgment.

"Welcome, friends," Emerson said, sounding a bit loud like the cattle rancher he was. He had an average build and was even shorter close up. His pale, freckled face wasn't remarkable, except for the blue eyes that glowed with intelligence. I pushed out my thoughts and saw that he was shielding and doing a better job at it than he had the night before.

"Thank you." Keene shook hands and made the introductions, giving me a last name I'd never remember and calling Mari his friend Laurie, which at least rhymed.

Emerson nodded at us. "Please sit." He waited until we dropped to the couch before retaking his chair. "So, did I hear Brody say you were at the fundraiser last night? That must mean you're fans of Vice President Mann, as I am."

"Well." Keene glanced at me, and I remembered my demand to be the one who led the conversation.

"Actually," I said, "after last night, we're not sure."

Emerson's brows rose so high they disappeared under the brim of his hat. "What do you mean?"

"Didn't you catch the news? There was a problem last night, and our sources say it involved Unbounded."

"Emporium or Renegade?" Emerson asked.

I didn't bother to hide my surprise. "You're the first Hunter I've ever heard make a distinction. Unbounded are Unbounded, right?"

Emerson leaned back in his chair, his hands folded over his stomach. "Why don't you tell me what happened last night?"

"We identified Emporium agents, who seem to also support the vice president. In fact, we witnessed a run-in they had at the hotel with agents we believe to be Renegades." Nothing like a little truth to give credence to a lie. "We are now in the process of identifying any Unbounded who might be close to the vice president." This last I added in case we needed help with Patrick Mann. For many years the Emporium had used Hunters against us. Maybe it was our turn to reverse the trend. As I finished speaking, I pushed harder at Emerson's mind shield, having found no apparent hole. Nothing left but to use brute force. Harder, harder, I pushed until it crumpled and vanished. Not nearly as thick as most shields I'd seen.

"Ah, honey, thanks," he said, as his wife and another woman I recognized from his mind as their live-in cook and housekeeper entered the room with trays.

"Never too early for croissants," Charlaine said. "And you'll have to try Josi's coffee. Everyone loves it." The women set down the trays, and Josi began pouring. There was a cup for Brody as well, which I thought was strange, despite the love of croissants prominent in his mind. Did bodyguards eat with their employers?

Concentrate, I told myself. Back to Emerson, who didn't touch his cup but was staring at Keene. I set down my coffee and laid my hands unfolded on my lap, my right just a bit closer to the top of my boot.

"Eat up," Emerson invited.

"I'd really like to hear why you think there's a difference in Unbounded," I said as the others reached toward the plate of croissants. Emerson's suspicion of Keene was clear in his mind, but Keene's shield was up and strong, so I could only warn Mari without becoming too distracted. He suspects, I told her.

c.r.a.p. She frowned at her croissant but didn't look at me.

"I think KC here can tell us that," Emerson said.

Keene's eyes rose to his as Emerson smiled. I noticed one of Emerson's hands was no longer on his stomach but had fallen to his side near his pocket where his thoughts told me he had a gun. Behind the couch, Brody stood ready, his hand moving toward his own weapon. Slowly, as if reaching for a mint.

Mentally, I reached for Mari. Emerson has a gun. Can you take care of him when I tell you to? Seated, he would be the weakest target, and I trusted Mari to be able to disarm him. We'd practiced a million times. Brody would be more dangerous. I didn't even want to think about him getting a bullet into Keene.

"You see," Emerson continued, "I've been doing a little research on you, KC, and discovered that while you've been involved in several Unbounded captures, only a few resulted in their deaths, and those were only Renegades, as far as I can tell. Is this a coincidence, I ask myself? I don't think so."

He hesitated before adding, "In fact, quite a few captured Unbounded have gone missing under your command, the last being at a raid here in New York almost three months ago. We lost one of our good operatives, and a new Hunter came back to us with no memory of the event." His words were almost casual, but his mind screamed with accusations against Keene, whom he considered responsible for the crime.

Keene scooted toward the edge of his seat. "I asked your Hunters here for help because I wasn't able to get to New York in time. I sent someone later for the Unbounded, and I can vouch that she and her human helper were taken care of. I'm sorry about your operatives, but we all know it's a dangerous line we walk."

"I don't believe you." Emerson's pistol was in his hand now, though not in plain sight. "Not about that or about last night."

Keene lifted the front of his T-shirt, revealing the bandages. "This is what those Unbounded b.a.s.t.a.r.ds did to me last night, and regardless of the conclusions you've come to, this is why I'm going to work against the vice president. Something doesn't smell right. He's somehow connected with the Unbounded. I know it."

"So you say." Emerson regarded Keene's bandages with interest, and while he didn't sound impressed, doubt wedged its way into his mind. "Convince me further," he invited.

I glanced at Keene. "If you take off that bandage and the bleeding starts again, I swear, the engagement is off. I'm not watching you bleed to death to prove anything to this man." I was serious about not standing by to watch him bleed. I'd shoot Emerson first.

Emerson's mouth twitched as mirth entered his thoughts.

"Why don't we address something more important?" I said.

Emerson inclined his head, urging me on.

"I'm talking about the records from the days before Hunters separated from the Emporium."

"You mean when we were abandoned?" His voice rose with each word. "Kicked out with no money and no homes when we didn't undergo their precious Change?"

"You're not old enough to remember," I countered.

"No, but my dad and grandaddy remember, and I learned from the day I was born what happened. There is no doubt we have to get rid of the Unbounded-all of them. They think of mortals as little more than intelligent monkeys." Bitterness laced his voice. "If we let them live, they will take over and only heaven will be able to help us then."

"I agree with you-for the most part." I did, at least as far as the Emporium was concerned. "But about the records? You have access to them, don't you? You and a few others? You're the ones we get orders from. Who to watch, right?" We meaning Hunters, of course, though saying it left a nasty taste in my mouth.

Emerson didn't answer, and I felt his finger go to the trigger of his gun. "I do have access," he said shortly, "but I won't let you see them. I give out names only to heads of chapters."

"We didn't come here for that." Without looking, I felt Brody step closer to the back of the couch, seeming as fascinated at the idea of the records as I was. Of course, he'd want to take them back to the Emporium. "I think the Emporium has been infiltrating our organization," I added, "and I think they're planning a move to get the records from you." To Mari, I silently said, Get ready.

"Ridiculous." Emerson gave a sharp jerk of his head. "All my people are thoroughly investigated. Even my own relatives. Because as much as we love them, we know their genes give them the possibility of becoming monsters."

"You're sure you have no Unbounded working for you?" I pressed.

"Absolutely." He was finished with us. I could see his decision even as he made it. He didn't trust Keene, and he was realizing that having a copy of the records in his safe here at the townhouse might put him in danger. His gaze rose to Brody, giving him one steady blink. A signal.

Now! I pushed the word mentally at Mari as I reached for my ballistic knife, whipping it around to point at Brody, leaving my back exposed to Emerson's pistol. I felt a slight suction of air as Mari shifted at the same time a solid click signaled my knife had left its housing. This close, I wasn't worried about accuracy. I'd have to be way off not to hit him.

The knife left my hand at a slightly upward angle, coming at Brody even as he brought out his gun. It slammed into his throat. He gave a m.u.f.fled, wet gurgle, his eyes staring at me in disbelief. As he fell, I was already diving to the side, reaching for my backup .380 in my other boot. I twisted toward Emerson, whose gun was on his lap, but useless as Mari's knife pressed against his throat. His cowboy hat had fallen to the side, revealing longish pale red hair that swept to the side and tried to hide a receding hairline.

"Show offs," Keene muttered.

Emerson let out a sob. "Brody!" His eyes went to me. "Please let me go to him." His pistol slid off his lap and onto the floor.

I stared at him. The emotion he felt threatened to overwhelm both of us. Not the ordinary feeling of an employer for a bodyguard but something far deeper. I looked into the sand stream and there it was, the information that might have prevented this entire confrontation.

I nodded at Emerson, mentally kicking myself for not seeing the connection earlier. "Mari, let him go."

"What?" This from Keene.

"Let him go," I repeated. "It's his son."

"KEENE, WATCH THE DOOR. I'LL cover Emerson." All we needed now was for Mrs. Emerson to return. Keene nodded and moved across the library into the sitting room, a pistol in one hand, the other over his bandaged stomach.

Mari released Emerson, who arose and shakily came around the couch, stumbling as he reached the fallen Unbounded. "Brody, Brody," he wept, his hand going to the knife and hesitating. "Please, let me call the ambulance. Oh, my son, my son. G.o.d, help him. Help my son!"

Mari shifted and appeared on the other side of Brody, her face solemn. No doubt remembering when she'd found her husband with his throat slashed by the Emporium.

"There's no need for an ambulance." Pa.s.sing the gun to Mari, I knelt by Brody and pulled out the knife, stanching the blood flow with a pillow from the couch. "Hold this here," I told Emerson, taking back my gun. "Mari, if you could get my coat."

Nodding, she shifted, leaving me momentarily breathless as the air around her also vanished. Emerson didn't even notice. He was shaking and crying and praying. I felt terrible, even though I knew Brody was fine. I had to remind myself of how many Renegades Emerson had killed. He deserved this for every spouse or child or parent who had lost their loved one to the Hunters. Wiping off my knife and replacing it in my boot, I shut my mind against his pain.

Mari popped back into the room, handing me my coat. I traded the gun for it, and from the pocket, I retrieved a syringe full of curequick.

"What are you doing?" Emerson tried to stop me, as I removed the pillow, but I was stronger. "You'll kill-" He broke off as he saw that the blood flow had already decreased.

I slid the thick needle under the flesh and slowly pressed in some of the liquid, removing it and beginning all over again in another place near the wound.

"He's not breathing," Emerson said, still sounding panicked.

"He doesn't need to. He should be around soon enough." Finishing with the needle and syringe, I squeezed together the edges of his wound.

"Who are you?" Emerson asked.

I snorted. "Not the Emporium, if that's what you're thinking. Or you'd be dead. No, we're Hunters like you. But your son may be with the Emporium."

"He can't be . . . he wouldn't have . . . will he really be okay?" Emerson had relaxed since my a.s.sertion that we weren't Emporium, which told me he knew there was a difference between Unbounded groups. Yet over the years he'd continued to condone the murders of all Unbounded.

We sat watching Brody in silence until Keene whistled from the sitting room. "Someone's coming," I guessed. I waved my pistol at Emerson. "Better get over there and stop them or things could get ugly."

He staggered to his feet, and I followed. "Drag him over there a bit, if you can," I told Mari over my shoulder, worried that even in the next room we'd see Brody's legs and feet.

Charlaine Emerson appeared in the doorway to the sitting room, puzzled to find most of us standing by the door instead of seated in the adjoining library where she'd left the coffee and croissants. "Is something wrong?"

"Not at all, dear," Emerson said. "Just showing them around. But we have some sensitive Hunter matters to discuss, so we'll be closing the library door."