The Darkness Beyond Page 27

  She fought. God, how she fought. She was sick and tired of being manhandled. This time was the worst because her captor was keeping her from getting back down there to where D.J. lay crumpled and so horribly still. From out of nowhere even more Kalith appeared beside her. Javel lowered his sword.

  Was he going to surrender rather than fight? Then, with a shout, he led the charge down the hillside. Everyone was moving except her and her captor.

  “Let me go! I’ve got to get down there!”

  A deep voice spoke right next to her ear. “Reggie Morrison, if you will stop fighting me, I will take you back to D.J. as soon as it is safe. Those are my men with Javel. I am Sworn Guardian Berk. I’m sure that D.J. mentioned my name.”

  His patient words wormed their way past the panic in her head, stealing away her need to fight. When she went slack in his arms, Berk eased her down to the ground long enough to remove the gun from her hand. Once she was disarmed, he gently lifted her in his arms and carried her back down to where the man she loved lay sprawled in the dirt like a broken toy. She could only pray he wasn’t beyond repair.

  Ten minutes later she knelt in the dust. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t talk. It hurt so bad. The pain just wouldn’t stop coming.

  The Kalith who’d introduced himself as Sworn Guardian Berk had felt for D.J.’s pulse. Then Berk immediately removed his cloak and used it to cover D.J.’s still form.

  Even if the Sworn Guardian didn’t speak English, the message was clear. D.J. was dead. And all because of her. There was so much she hadn’t told him—how he made her feel, how much she loved him. She was a coward two times over. Once for not staying to fight by his side. Then again for not ’fessing up to how she felt about the man.

  He’d died not knowing. Somehow she was going to have to live with that.

  Berk stepped between her and D.J.’s body and offered her a hand up off the ground.

  “There’s nothing left for us to do here. My men will handle the dead. Your people will be waiting for you.”

  “They aren’t my people.”

  But she supposed they were, at least more so than the men and women who now surrounded her.

  “Can you walk or do you need me to carry you?”

  “I can walk.”

  Or would die trying. She almost hoped she would. Berk and Javel flanked her as they started the long trek up the hill. About halfway, she glanced back.

  Four of Berk’s men had spread out a blanket and were gently lifting D.J. onto it. They folded his hands over his chest and placed his bloodstained sword at his side.

  What had she been thinking? She tugged on Berk’s sleeve. “We can’t leave him here. D.J. needs to be buried in our world, not here.”

  Berk flinched and looked horrified. “Why would you do that?”

  She would’ve thought the answer to that question was obvious. “Because he belongs there. His friends will want to say good-bye.”

  Berk appeared puzzled. “You do know that he is a Paladin.”

  “Of course.”

  He stared at her for a few seconds and then looked back down at the slow procession of his men as they started up the path to where they stood. “It is my guess that he never fully explained what that means.”

  She wasn’t in the mood to play guessing games. “What are you talking about?”

  “I believe it is best to let D.J.’s friends explain what happens when a Paladin dies. Suffice it to say that, with luck, all will be well.”

  He glanced up at the suns overhead. “But now, time is running short, and we must get to the barrier if we are going to be there when Barak brings it down again. My own talent for working with the energy is less predictable. If we miss the opening, it could be another twelve hours before you see your homeworld again.”

  Before she could protest, he marched up the path, leaving her no choice but to follow.

  Her eyes, still swollen from crying, had a hard time adjusting to the dark interior of the cave. Berk and another of his men pulled out blue gemstones about the size of golf balls and murmured over them. A spark flickered deep inside the stones, gradually growing in intensity until the stones cast a soft glow throughout the cavern.

  Once again, she stood facing a shimmering panel of light that stretched across the back wall of the cave. This time she didn’t see its beauty or feel any desire to reach out to touch it. All it was to her was a means to get back home. Maybe someday she’d make sense of all that had happened during the past few days. Right now, she was too tired, too shattered, to do more than stare at the shifting patterns.

  Berk and his men hovered nearby, neither crowding her nor offering her platitudes that would do nothing to ease her pain. Berk had told her one last time as they’d entered the cave that all would be well. She’d snapped at him to shut the hell up.

  The familiar sickly green streaks appeared in the barrier as the other colors faded in intensity. She could sense growing excitement in those standing near her. Perhaps they were as happy to see her leave as she was to be going.

  With a quiet whoosh, the barrier disappeared altogether, revealing a bunch of men spread out over the width of a cavern that mirrored the one she stood in. All were armed with swords, but immediately sheathed them as soon as they got a clear look at Reggie and her companions.

  One limped forward. “Berk, I see you found Miss Morrison, but where’s D.J.?”

  Then he spotted the burden that four of Berk’s men still carried. “Oh, shit, no.”

  His eyes immediately sought hers. “Miss Morrison . . . Reggie, I’m so sorry. My name is Hunter Fitzsimon, and I’m a friend of D.J.’s. We all are.”

  A tall silver-eyed man brushed passed them, along with another man who was obviously a Kalith. She’d spent enough time around his brethren in the past few days to recognize him for what he was. They replaced Berk’s men as pallbearers. Everyone stepped aside to allow them to pass. The silence in the two caves became oppressive.

  Hunter then offered her his hand, leading her across the line in the cave floor that marked the border between Kalithia and Earth. He quietly spoke to Berk in a voice that sounded as if his vocal cords had been badly damaged at some point in the past.

  “We’ll be in touch. Thanks for . . . well, just thanks.”

  His words reminded Reggie of her own manners. She sought out Javel in the cluster of Kalith warriors and mustered up a small smile for him.

  “Javel, thank you for your help.”

  Although he might not have understood her words, he clearly understood her meaning, offering her a shy smile in return. Next she spoke to Berk.

  “I appreciate everything you’ve done, even if I haven’t always acted like it. Thank you for bringing me—” She stopped, choking on the words. “For bringing us home again.”

  He bowed his head to her before turning his attention back to Hunter. “I don’t think D.J. ever told his woman the truth of what it means to be a Paladin. I fear she is in for a shock if someone doesn’t warn her about what is coming.”

  Hunter closed his eyes and slowly breathed in and out through his mouth. “I’ll see to it. Tate can help with that. She’s had experience in that area.”

  Reggie let their words flow around her, not really caring what they were talking about. She already knew that she could never tell anyone about what had happened. Most people wouldn’t believe her in the first place, and it was no one’s business what she and D.J. had shared.

  Rather than linger to see what else Hunter and Berk had to talk about, she walked toward the circle of sunshine that marked the opening to her home planet. She breathed deeply, filling her lungs with the heavy, cool air of the Pacific Northwest. It tasted sweet to her senses. The first real step back to her life.

  The one that would have a huge, gaping hole in it without the Knightwalker.

  She stepped out of the cave to find herself perched on a rocky ledge halfway up a cliff. Good thing she didn’t have a problem with heights. Even if she did, sidestepping alo
ng a narrow ledge was small potatoes compared to everything she’d been through the past few days.

  When she reached the main path, she looked at the beach below and the wooded hillside above. Up or down? Seeing that the tide was running high, she opted for up. Maybe she was supposed to wait for Hunter, but if she stopped moving, she wasn’t sure she’d ever get started again. The thread of stubbornness that held back her rage and grief was frayed and stretched to the point of snapping. If she was going to go into a complete meltdown, she wasn’t going to do it out here on this godforsaken hillside.

  As the trail wound upward, the trees gradually thinned out. As she reached the edge of the woods, a familiar figure came into view.

  She screamed his name and took off running. “Cody!”

  When she reached his waiting arms, he crushed her against his chest and she held on with all her strength.

  She was finally home.

  Reggie closed her eyes and counted off the firsts she’d experienced since that night D.J. had appeared at her door. She’d met her first Paladin and visited another world. Aliens had kidnapped her and then she’d been rescued by some more. She’d seen her first fight to the death, and then made love with a man outside, under the stars.

  The list went on and on.

  But as weird as all of that was, the strangest part was listening to Tate Justice explain how Hunter had died out in those very same woods that bordered her backyard. Not only that but he’d somehow pulled through despite being dead or maybe just mostly dead. An image from the movie The Princess Bride kept playing out in Reggie’s head. Who knew, maybe Westley had been a Paladin. He sure had the sick sword skills to fit the part.

  She must be losing her mind. Here she was, being whisked back to Seattle in a helicopter, and all she could think about was a movie. She wished Cody had been able to come with her. There hadn’t been room for everyone, just her, Trahern, and D.J.

  For the hundredth time, she had to pull her eyes away from the plastic body bag stretched out on the floor at her feet. Up until now Trahern hadn’t said more than a handful of words to her, but then he took her hand in his much bigger one. Some part of her mind noticed that his calluses matched the ones on D.J.’s hands. For whatever reason, that comforted her.

  “You’ll be good for him.”

  She whipped around to look at Trahern directly, definitely seeing a lot less ice in his silver-gray eyes than had been there earlier. “What do you mean? We hardly knew each other.”

  That was a lie.

  She studied her companion. He and the others obviously believed D.J. would come back from death. God, she hoped they were right, and not just because if they were delusional, she was surrounded by crazies. But either way, if Trahern was also thinking there’d be some kind of future for her and D.J., he was mistaken.

  Wasn’t he?

  “Don’t play coy, Reggie. We all know that you’ve had our boy there tied up in knots for a while now. Hell, I’ve known him for years, and I’ve never seen him act like that. He took pride in being able to outdance any other hacker out there.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that’s a basis for a long-term relationship—seeing which one of us can outhack the other.”

  Trahern shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. It’s that you get each other. In our little corner of the world, do you have any idea how rare that is?”

  She noticed that he wore a wedding band. “You found someone.”

  For the first time, he really smiled. “Yeah, I did. I know Tate talked to you about what she went through with Hunter. Brenna saw me die, too, only she was also shot in the process. If it hadn’t been for her pigheaded stubbornness, I wouldn’t be here with you today.”

  He looked away, as if afraid of letting too much of what that had meant to him show. Then he leaned to the side to get a better view out of the window.

  “We’re almost there. Devlin’s wife, Dr. Laurel Young, is waiting for us. She’s our best Handler—that’s what they call the docs who patch us up. If anyone can pull D.J. through for you, she can.”

  “Is she the one who brought you back?”

  “Yeah, she was.” He stared out the window, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “I obviously was in no shape to know what was going on, but I have it on good authority that Laurel and my Brenna kicked some serious butt to make that happen. Grown men quivered in their boots and ran for cover.”

  He squeezed her hand one last time. “I have a feeling that you and Laurel will do the same for D.J.”

  The gesture meant more than he knew. “Maybe all that’s true, but there’s no guarantee he’ll want to have anything to do with me after all this. None of this would’ve happened if I hadn’t started poking my nose around in his business.”

  Once again Trahern smiled down at her, humor twinkling in his eyes. “You’re not going to believe me, but you should. Poking that pretty little nose of yours in D.J.’s business is probably the best thing that ever happened to him.”

  It was obvious she wasn’t going to convince the man he was wrong. When the helicopter landed, he was the only one smiling.

  Chapter 24

  In and out. In and out. The sound of air rasping through the bellows in D.J.’s chest was the first sign he was on the long trip back to the living. Underneath the whisper of his lungs was the soft backbeat of his heart, slow at first but then picking up speed, running ragged for a while until it finally settled back into a rhythm.

  Cold, bone-chilling cold. Gradually, his blood remembered the pathways throughout his body and brought warmth flooding back to his extremities. Not to mention pain. Lots of it. Dead men don’t hurt. Men coming back to life do.

  God, he hated this whole fucking process. It never got any easier; if anything, it got worse. They said it beat the alternative. Sometimes he wasn’t so sure.

  Hearing was always the last sense to disappear and the first to come back. The soft rumble of voices slowly translated themselves into individual words. Eventually, he’d remember who was talking and understand what was being said.

  One word stood out: Reggie.

  His whole body jerked and twisted to the tune of rattling chains. No amount of jerking would free him from his restraints, but he fought them anyway.

  “D.J., settle down. You’ll rip out your stitches.”

  Laurel’s voice, calm as always. She wasn’t the one he needed to hear. Not this time. He erupted in another burst of rebellion.

  A pair of heavy hands came down on his upper arms, pinning him down. “Damn it, D.J., cut this shit out. You’re bleeding all over the place.”

  Trahern. Wrong again. With his arms in lockdown, he kicked his feet and tried to force words out of his mouth. No, not words. Just one.

  “Reggie!”

  Success. He whispered her name again. “Reggie.”

  Having had his say, he settled back down and waited for answers. Evidently deciding D.J. was going to behave himself, Trahern removed his hands and stepped away. Someone took his place. Someone who smelled like flowers.

  Reggie.

  “D.J.” She spoke in that hushed voice people used in churches and hospital rooms. “I’m right here.”

  His lungs’ fledgling attempts to breathe deeply drew in just enough of her scent to tease his senses. Her soft hand cupped his cheek, her fingers trembling.

  “This. Scared. You.” Stringing words together was a bitch right now.

  “Not at all,” she whispered as she brushed his hair back off his forehead.

  He could hear the fear in her voice. “Liar.”

  Reggie choked a bit. “Yeah, well, I’ll get over it.”

  Laurel entered the conversation again. “D.J., you know the drill. Everything is looking good right now, but you need to sleep, and so does she.”

  It was early in the recovery process, but maybe he could pry his eyes open. A quick glimpse of Reggie. All he needed. Only one eye cooperated. It was enough. She was crying. Damn it. He hated that, hated himsel
f for wanting Reggie to be there even knowing what it was costing her. The sooner she left, the sooner she’d forget.

  “Go, Reggie,” he croaked.

  She nodded. “Okay, but I’ll be back.”

  Not what he meant. “No! Go away. Home if you can.”

  God, he needed her to leave. Now. Because he didn’t know if he’d ever find the guts to let her go again.

  “But, D.J., I want to be here.”

  When her hand caressed his bare shoulder, he wanted to purr. Instead, he screamed, rattling his chains with every ounce of strength he could muster.

  “It hurts, damn it. Go!”

  Laurel interceded. “Blake, get her out of here before this idiot destroys all my hard work.”

  His Handler sounded frustrated or maybe it was disgust he heard in her voice. He heard the shuffle of feet and the deep rumble of Trahern’s voice. When D.J. could no longer hear them, he gave up, surrendering to the bleakness that was his life.

  Laurel came closer, her cool hands checking his vitals with her usual efficiency. “D. J. Clayborne, I never thought you’d be such a coward.”

  So it had been disgust. That was okay. He disgusted himself.

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s not me you should apologize to. The question is whether you’ll get the chance to apologize to Reggie. After that display, it would serve you right if she actually did what you told her to. Luckily, I’m betting she’s got more gumption than that.”

  Laurel gave his hand a quick squeeze. “By the way, if you need lessons in groveling, I’ll have Devlin give you a few pointers.”

  Rather than respond, he slept.

  Reggie peeked into Laurel’s lab through the small pane of glass in the door. D.J. was sitting up, looking a heck of a lot better than he had three days ago. She’d spent the time since he’d kicked her out resting up and trying to piece her life back together.

  She’d sent an e-mail to Mr. DeLuca explaining that although she was feeling better, she’d been called out of town on an emergency. After apologizing for being out of touch for so long, she’d offered her resignation if he wanted it. She hoped he did.