Redeemed in Darkness Page 13

  Snagging her arm, Cullen spun her back around. “You don’t know that he has done anything other than show us where my people are crossing into your world. Maybe they tracked him back here.”

  She flinched. “Do you think they’ve…” Her words trailed off as once again she started for the house, this time with stealth and a drawn sword.

  “Let me look first.” In case Joq is dead went unspoken, but she knew anyway. He made a circular motion with his hand. “Why don’t you circle around to see if you can pick up a trail leaving here.”

  “All right, but know that if Joq is…” Her voice cracked. “I will avenge him. Honor demands his killer’s death.”

  If there was one thing a Paladin understood, it was the thirst for his enemy’s blood when a friend died too soon. “I’ll push back my hood if it’s safe for you to come in.”

  “Don’t take too long.” She grabbed the front of his cloak and yanked him close for a rough kiss. “Be careful.”

  “You, too.” He kissed her again before giving her a gentle shove in the opposite direction to the house. When he was sure she was going with the plan, he studied the small cabin, looking for any signs of life.

  Nothing.

  If the bench outside the front door hadn’t been lying in the dirt with two of its legs snapped off, the whole scene would have looked peaceful. With no good cover to offer protection, he gave up caution for speed and ran the last few yards up to the narrow window on the near side of the cabin.

  The interior of the cabin hadn’t fared any better than the bench. He sidled around to the door, almost certain that whoever had done the damage was either gone or dead. For Lusahn’s sake, he hoped that Joq had survived the fight.

  But if the son of a bitch had done something that would endanger Lusahn, Cullen would gut him.

  He spun through the front door, sword at the ready. The inside of the cabin looked as if a tornado had torn through the place, shattering dishes and overturning the furniture. Either there’d been a hell of a fight, or someone had searched the place with violent thoroughness.

  The only good news was that there was no dead body anywhere in sight.

  “Is he all right?”

  Damn it, he’d told her to stay outside until he signaled her that all was safe! “He’s not here, and I don’t remember giving you the okay to come inside.”

  “I couldn’t wait.”

  There was such sorrow mixed with relief in her eyes that he couldn’t stay mad. He let her look her fill while he used a broken table leg to poke around in the debris littering the floor.

  “I wonder what he was looking for.”

  Lusahn did a slow turn around the room. “I don’t know, but I doubt he found it. If Joq had something of value to hide, he wouldn’t have kept it in the house. This place is too small to hide anything bigger than your fist.”

  That’s what he’d thought, too. “Find any interesting tracks outside?”

  “No. Only the one set heading this way, which looked human. The only fresh tracks leaving were made by the same person, which makes no sense.”

  Unless the intruder walked in wearing shoes from Cullen’s world and left still wearing them. Maybe there was only the one set because the wearer was Joq? Always more questions than answers.

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  Lusahn protested, “But he could be somewhere close by! We should look.”

  “All right, but I’m not liking this whole scene. I’ll feel better when we get back to the house and the children.”

  He took off at a slow lope, determined to make quick work of their hunt. The barren countryside offered little in the way of shelter, making the search go quickly. When they met up again near the path back toward town, neither had seen any sign of Joq or the intruder. He hated the defeat in Lusahn’s posture.

  “Let’s go on home and eat something. Afterward, we can make plans.”

  As the cabin disappeared behind them, Lusahn gave it one last look. “If your people have harmed Joq, they will die on my sword.” She brought her chin up in determination.

  He gave her a grim smile. “Your enemies are my enemies; my sword is yours to command.”

  “You are a man who understands honor, Cullen Finley.”

  “I understand revenge even better.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Damn it, Laurel, I need to talk to him.” Devlin could have muscled his way into the lab, but he’d never use his strength against Laurel that way. He had too much respect for her as a healer, and loved her too much as a woman for that. Besides, he had no doubt she would exact revenge if he were to circumvent her authority in her lab. She might be smaller than he was, but she was sneaky, and he had to sleep sometime. Payback would be a bitch.

  Laurel blocked the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told D.J. not more than fifteen minutes ago. Barak’s condition is improving by the hour, and I’m not going to let anything interfere with that. I’ll call you when he’s up to talking.”

  Devlin ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. He’d benefited from Laurel’s fierce protection a time or two himself, but it wasn’t fun to be on the other end of it.

  He tried again. “I only need to ask him a couple of quick questions, and then I promise I’ll leave. He’s the only one who might know what’s happened to Cullen.”

  He’d scored a direct hit. “Cullen? What’s wrong with Cullen?”

  “We don’t know. D.J.’s been looking for him since yesterday with no luck.” He didn’t want to tell her that Barak had been on the verge of returning to his world on a special mission on behalf of the Paladins. She’d skin Devlin alive for endangering her friend.

  “What’s Barak got to do with Cullen?” Her eyes narrowed, her mouth a straight slash of irritation. “And don’t try pulling that top-secret Paladin crap with me.”

  Aw, hell, he might as well ’fess up. She wouldn’t let go of the matter until he did. “Barak was supposed to contact someone in his world to set up a meeting about the flow of those blue stones into our world. Cullen gave Barak a ride to the tunnels. The rest, you already know: Barak took off with Penn to rescue Lacey.”

  “And?”

  “D.J. called Cullen and told him what happened to Barak and that we’d dug him out of the tunnel. As far as I can tell, that’s the last time anyone has had any contact with Cullen.”

  “If D.J. talked to Cullen last, why do you need to talk to Barak?” Her stance was softening, her voice telling him that he was finally making progress in convincing her to let him past the door.

  “I need to know what happened between the two of them while they were waiting in the tunnel, before Penn arrived. I’ve pieced together everything except that.” He reached out to trace the curve of Laurel’s cheek with the back of his fingers. “I won’t stay long, but every minute is important if we’re going to find out what happened to Cullen.”

  She pushed the door open. “Five minutes tops, Devlin. And if you get Barak worked up, I’ll kick you out so fast your head will spin.”

  He couldn’t resist her when she got all feisty. He grabbed her close to kiss her hard and thoroughly. When they came up for air, he took a precautionary step backward, wishing they were somewhere a helluva lot more private and had more time to finish what they’d just started simmering between them.

  “I appreciate this. Five minutes, I promise.”

  Laurel straightened her lab coat, and Devlin followed her into the lab. Damn, he hated the smell of the place. No matter how antiseptic she kept it, the stench of death and pain tainted the air. He’d been strapped down to that steel slab too many times to feel comfortable in the room.

  He sloughed off his unease and concentrated on why he was there. Barak looked like hell, but at least he was breathing. That was more than they’d hoped for when they’d dug through a collapsed tunnel to rescue him.

  “Where’s Lacey?” Devlin asked.

  Laurel was studying the readings o
n one of the machines monitoring Barak’s vitals. “Penn dragged her out of here to get some rest. I give her four hours tops before she’s back.” She adjusted the flow of an IV running into Barak’s arm.

  Devlin edged closer to the bed. “I’m sorry to have to wake him up.”

  Barak’s eyes fluttered open, and his mouth quirked up in a slight smile. “You should be—but then, you always did hate having your woman fuss over me.”

  Devlin laid his hand on Barak’s. “I’m just glad to see you’re still being a thorn in my side.”

  “Devlin!” Laurel gave her watch a pointed look, reminding him that time was short.

  “Okay, okay. I need to ask you about what happened down in the tunnels—before Penn came charging in.”

  Barak blinked several times, trying to focus on Devlin’s face. “Why? What’s wrong?”

  Laurel answered before Devlin could. “No one has seen Cullen since you and Penn left him down in the tunnel. Devlin’s trying to retrace Cullen’s steps.”

  “Do you suspect…what is it they call it? Foul play?”

  “Right now we don’t know what to think. It’s not like Cullen to disappear like this, especially leaving his car in the garage for this long.”

  Barak frowned. “He was proud of his new car when he picked me up. We took the long way to the tunnels so he could show me what it could do.”

  “I hate to push you when I know you’re hurting, but anything you can remember would help.” Devlin snagged a nearby stool and sat down to make it easier for Barak to see him.

  Barak closed his eyes and drew a slow breath. “Cullen played cards…solitary…something like that. And he asked me about Lusahn.” He opened his eyes again. “She’s my sister—the last family I have. Cullen thinks she is the one he fought in the tunnels.”

  “I remember that day. She cut his face and sliced his ribs open. Not the sort of thing he’d forget.”

  “She has considerable talent with a blade. Taught her myself.” Barak’s voice faded to a soft whisper. “Penn came and attacked me before he realized that they kidnapped Lacey because of him, not me. I wrote a note on the envelope meant for Lusahn, telling her why I couldn’t be there at the appointed time, and asked Cullen to throw it across. When I left with Penn, Cullen was still there.”

  “Time’s up.” Laurel dimmed the lights over Barak’s bed. “If he thinks of anything else, I’ll call you.”

  “All right. I’ll be in my office.”

  Laurel followed him to the door, then fussed with the collar of his shirt the way she always did when she was worried. “I hope you find Cullen, and he’s okay.”

  “Me, too.” He smiled in an effort to reassure her, but inside he knew something had gone horribly wrong. His friend was in serious trouble.

  Chapter 9

  T he journey back to town was uneventful, but a growing sense of urgency haunted their footsteps. Something was wrong, maybe even badly wrong.

  Once again the approach Lusahn used was a winding, roundabout route, which left Cullen tired and his teeth on edge. His instincts demanded that he pull his sword, ready to defend against a peril he couldn’t yet see but could sense. Lusahn was feeling it, too. More than once she’d stopped abruptly and backtracked, without offering any explanation other than the worried look in her eyes.

  To distract her, when near-exhaustion demanded they stop to rest by a small creek, he broached the question he’d been meaning to ask since his conversation with Bavi.

  “Lusahn, when Bavi and I were talking before breakfast, he said something that bothered me.” He waited for her to finish her drink, wanting her full attention.

  “What did he say?”

  “He’s been dreaming about his parents and how things were before they left. He said they must be dead. Rather than give him false hope, I agreed that they were gone, because if he were my son, nothing short of death would keep me away from him. My old man wasn’t much of a father, but at least he stuck around until he died.” God, he hated thinking about it. Only after he’d been recognized as a Paladin himself had he found out why his father had been the way he was. And that he’d died strapped down and screaming.

  “Cullen?”

  He shook his head, dragging himself back to the present. “Sorry, I guess I drifted there. I know Bavi’s parents sought the light, but he seems to think it’s inevitable that he and Shiri will do the same thing.”

  Lusahn stared up at the pale star in the sky for several seconds before slowly turning to face him. The pain that etched her face told him he didn’t want to hear what she was about to say, but he needed to know the truth.

  “I told you before that not all of our people have adjusted to the fading of the light. For most, the effect is mild: occasional bouts of depression, irritability, a need to get away from the city. Others have taken to the darkness and actually live in the caves.” She looked up at the sky again. “Barak was one who sought solace near the barrier. For a long time that was enough for him. But the ones like Bavi’s parents gradually worsen until they become like those you kill to protect your world.”

  She took another long drink from the stream. “Those who move away from the city, either to live like Joq or in the caves, function pretty well, and they may be the only one in their family so affected. But when a parent seeks the light, it seems the children are prone to do the same. If both parents cross the barrier, like Bavi’s did, it is almost certain that their children will as well. That is why none of their blood family would take them in. Imagine the pain of raising a child, loving them, nurturing them, all the while knowing that one day they will seek the light, and in doing so, die.”

  A tear trickled down her cheek. She swiped at it with the back of her hand and looked away. His own grief had him wanting to rage out of control, to scream at the gods, to gut someone for not putting a stop to the madness before now.

  He picked up a handful of rocks and threw them as far and as hard as he could. It didn’t help. Neither did the obscenities that poured from his mouth. If he could have offered up himself in their place he would have, and died happy knowing that Shiri and her brother would live long and happy lives.

  “Why haven’t your people found a cure?” It was an unfair question, and he knew it. There were plenty of children in his own world who suffered from illnesses that were beyond mankind’s ability to heal. But he didn’t know those children personally, hadn’t held them on his lap or taught them how to hold a sword.

  Lusahn gave his question the answer it deserved: none. If it killed him, knowing what lay in store for Bavi and Shiri, it had to be eating her alive every minute of every day. Who could imagine that a simple thing like the lack of adequate sunlight could wreak such havoc in someone’s life?

  He was about to reach for more rocks when it hit him. Sunlight. His world had bright, beautiful, glaring sunlight. If that’s what Bavi and Shiri needed to thrive, he could give it to them. Crossing into his world would be a shock to them, but they were young. They would adapt. He’d make sure of it.

  “Lusahn, would more light prevent the disease from taking its normal course?”

  “Nothing we’ve tried has worked. We can light more candles, and a few like Barak have the gift of bringing light out of the blue stones, but none of that has helped.”

  She started walking, cutting straight across country toward the city rather than following the path.

  Cullen caught up with her. “What if I took Bavi and Shiri to my world? If they were given an opportunity to live in the bright sunshine of Earth, would it hold the disease at bay?”

  Lusahn rounded on him, her pale eyes blazing with fury.

  “What are you saying, Cullen? That we should try to sneak our children across, only to have them die on a Paladin’s sword? You might hesitate to kill a child, but would all of your kind feel that way? Or would they hold them prisoner and shove them back across the barrier the first chance they get? That would get us nowhere, and the trauma would likely hasten the progression of
the disease.”

  “Damn it, Lusahn, I’m not talking about saving all of your children! I can’t do that any more than I could save all those who suffer in my world. But maybe, just maybe, I can save Bavi and Shiri by taking them back with me.”

  “You would take them from me?” The anger was gone, replaced by something far more vulnerable. “But I just found them.”

  “Then come with them—with me.” He didn’t know which of them was more shocked by his offer, but he meant every word. When he reached out to hold her, she lurched away, shaking her head.

  “No! It won’t work. Not for them. Not for me.” She whirled away and all but ran down the trail.

  Cullen stared after her retreating back, wishing her rejection didn’t hurt so much. He should be glad that one of them was thinking straight. What did he know about taking care of kids, especially two with so much baggage already? And if he was out of place in Lusahn’s world, she’d be lost in his.

  A small voice in the back of his head argued that he was wrong. Barak had adapted well enough, and he was Lusahn’s brother. He would be there to help Bavi and Shiri. And she wouldn’t be stepping across the barrier praying for mercy. She’d have family there—the children with her, and him.

  It was the only logical solution to the problems they were facing. The stubborn woman wasn’t ready to listen to reason, but he had time to convince her. He set off down the trail, determined to use every moment he had.

  Lusahn could hear Cullen stomping down the hillside behind her. She picked up speed, unable to face him right now. Her emotions were a jumbled mess, her stomach churning with anger and hurt, mixed with a small splash of hope.

  Could he really save Bavi and Shiri from almost certain insanity? If there was even a breath of chance, she should be packing their belongings and planning her good-bye speech. Instead, she wanted to race home and lock them away before Cullen caught up with her.

  They were her family—the only one she had left. If they were to cross the barrier, she’d never see them again. That wasn’t going to happen. It was bad enough that Cullen would leave.