Dark Protector Read online

  She knew better than to hope that her mother would accept defeat. At best, she would withdraw to regroup.

  “Well, we’ll talk more when you get here. Let me know when you can come.”

  “I will. Tell Dad and the others that I love you all.”

  Her mother’s voice softened. “We know you do, honey. We love you, too. Oh, look at the time! I’d better go get dinner started. Take care.”

  Laurel set the phone back down in its cradle. She wondered what her family would make of Devlin Bane. They certainly respected those who served in the military, which was the closest thing in their experience to the Paladins.

  For a few seconds, she imagined what it would be like to take Devlin Bane home to meet her family. She couldn’t quite see him sitting in her parents’ small living room, spending a Saturday afternoon watching college football with her dad and brother.

  Then her cellphone from work rang.

  Laurel’s heart sank, knowing it could only mean one thing: somewhere, Paladins were fighting and dying.

  • • •

  Everyone at Research was on high alert, waiting for the onslaught. Laurel had restocked her supplies, the stainless-steel table had been freshly disinfected, and the chains and straps checked for weaknesses.

  Now all she could do was wait, trying not to think about what had almost happened the day before. She shivered, remembering the near disaster.

  Going strictly by the rules, she should ask to be replaced as Devlin’s Handler, but she wouldn’t do so unless she was forced to. Her role was to decide what was best for her patient. How could another Handler, one who only saw him as another case file and not as an individual, make more informed decisions about Devlin’s welfare? None of his previous Handlers had ever commented on the fact that his slowed progression toward the inevitable madness didn’t fit the usual pattern. Since she couldn’t believe that they hadn’t noticed, she had to think that they had seen the numbers and either didn’t care, or didn’t bother to question them.

  There was no time like the present to begin her campaign to take a more clinical attitude toward Devlin Bane. Her intense interest would only be because of the scientific value in knowing what made him different from the other Paladins. If it were a genetic anomaly, there might not be much she could do to extend his inborn resistance to the others. But if it were due to some chemical change in his bloodstream, that could lead to a world of possibilities. And maybe it would extend beyond the Paladins to normal human beings, as well.

  The scientist in her took over as she began poring over his chart, comparing previous results against the most recent ones. The blood chemistries had remained constant for the three years she’d been his Handler. Measurements of his physical strength and endurance followed the same pattern, reflecting changes so minute as to be statistically insignificant.

  But more interesting were his brain scans. She began to review the various markers on yesterday’s scan, and with relief noted the beginning numbers were similar to his last scan.

  About halfway through the test, though, the readings spiked and then dropped lower and stayed there. What would have caused that? By that point it was to be expected that he would have relaxed, but that didn’t account for such dramatically lower scores.

  She circled the ones that seemed most significant to puzzle over when she had time to compare those specific numbers against his readings over time. Once she had them all charted and lined up in neat little rows, she’d get Dr. Neal’s opinion. Maybe they meant nothing at all, but a small voice in the back of her mind told her she was on the right track.

  A shrill alarm screamed out a warning as lights began flashing. Laurel automatically closed the file and shoved it out of the way. She had only minutes before the first patient would come through her door. Her handpicked team of nurses and technicians streamed in to take their triage positions.

  When the double doors burst open, a sense of calm settled over her. Pulling on a pair of surgical gloves, she took her place at the head of the examining table.

  “All right, people, let’s get him moved, and then we’ll see what we’re dealing with.” Experience had shown her that if she reacted calmly to the horrific wounds they all saw on a frequent basis, her staff would do the same.

  “On a count of three: One…two…three.”

  They grunted with the effort to slide the Paladin from the gurney to the table. Someone slapped the initial chart into her hand. She reviewed the preliminary findings as the others began hooking their patient up to monitors and cleaning away the blood-soaked bandages. She drew comfort from the fact that he was still bleeding; it took a heartbeat to make that happen.

  For once, her patient wasn’t dead, at least not yet.

  “Get him on IVs and then let’s get him stitched up.”

  “Which one is it?” Dr. Neal had just walked up behind her.

  She glanced at the name and shuddered. Everyone thought Devlin Bane was scary, but in her opinion, he didn’t hold a candle to Blake Trahern.

  “It’s Trahern. Get those restraints in place.”

  Judging from the speed with which her tech responded, she wasn’t the only one who found Trahern and his cold gray eyes unnerving. His test scores weren’t as far along as Devlin’s, but they were getting worse faster. She secretly thought he was the most likely candidate to be the first she had to put down. As a result, she hated each and every time he came in.

  “Does anyone know what happened?”

  Dr. Neal had moved into position on the far side of the table. Working in tandem, they’d get the wounds closed and begin the healing process that much faster.

  He looked up from the gash he was stitching shut. “I’ve heard it’s bad, maybe really bad.”

  “The barrier?”

  “According to the preliminary reports I saw, it was just flickering, so the Others were coming through in small bursts. The Paladins were doing cleanup, making sure no one got away. Then a large stretch of the barrier went down altogether.”

  “How many did we lose?”

  “Enough that we’re going to have trouble making room for them all.” The worry in Neal’s eyes sent a chill through her. “I had to release Devlin Bane to take charge at the breach until reinforcements arrive from other sectors. I warned Colonel Kincade that Bane wasn’t at full strength yet. He’s risking losing Bane for good if his leg gives out while he’s under attack.”

  Paladins were hard to kill permanently, but it could be done if they went down under an onslaught of swords and axes.

  “But it wasn’t Colonel Kincade who asked for the release; it was Bane himself. If I hadn’t signed off on him, he would have gone underground into the breach anyway. I only made the inevitable easier for everybody involved until reinforcements arrive later tonight.”

  The doors slammed open again as a group of the guards came through carrying another pair of heavy examining tables, the straps and chains rattling with each shuffling step the guards took. The patients to fill them wouldn’t be long in arriving, and Laurel braced herself for a marathon.

  For Devlin Bane, all she could do was pray.

  Chapter 4

  The jarring ring of the phone woke him out of a sound sleep; a harsh voice whispered, “Now is your chance. There are enough of the Others coming through to serve as a smokescreen for you.” The line went dead.

  He stared at the phone in his hand, wishing like hell that he had let the machine answer. It took two tries for his shaking hand to set it back in its cradle. There would be no going back to sleep now, not with his stomach churning as he tried to think of a reasonable course of action. By all reports, things were bad enough along the barrier that no one would think it too odd if he were to voluntarily show up in the underground passages, weapon in hand.

  It wasn’t all that unusual for the Paladins to request backup when the numbers of Others escaping across the barrier were higher than normal. He had some skill with a sword, although nowhere near the level achieved by the
Paladins. Of course, they’d each had several lifetimes over which to hone their skills.

  At least Trahern and a couple of the other scariest Paladins were already out of the game. That was something to be grateful for. Bane was bad enough, but he still registered some human emotions. Trahern’s eyes were dead and all the more chilling because of it.

  His own chances for success would greatly increase if he could score official orders to cover his reason for going underground. That way no one would question his presence. Having Bane die for good, though, could have one of two effects. Either it would leave the Paladins in temporary disarray with their leader gone, or else they would unite to hunt down Bane’s killer.

  It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the Paladins would devise a particularly nasty death for anyone who had betrayed one of their own, especially if it were Bane. Son of a bitch, how was he going to handle this? He was poised at the edge of a slippery slope that led straight to hellfire and disaster. If he didn’t want to sign his own death warrant, he’d have to tread carefully each step of the way.

  Why had Bane been singled out for execution? His Handler would eventually have to pull the plug on his existence anyway. Not that it mattered now. The long-lived Paladin had obviously stepped on some pretty powerful toes somewhere along the line.

  No matter how he looked at it, planning an execution was a hell of a way to start the day.

  • • •

  Devlin stood in the front of the elevator because he tolerated it better than some of the others. Lonzo, especially, needed his back against the wall until the fighting actually started. As the elevator hurtled downward, they all automatically checked their weapons, making sure that swords slid easily from their scabbards and that throwing knives were snug in their sheaths. A few of them used more specialized weapons. Lonzo carried a double-bladed ax he was particularly fond of, and a throwing hammer hung from D.J.’s belt.

  “Any news on the numbers yet?” Lonzo asked from the back of the elevator.

  Devlin shook his head. “Not since earlier this morning, but there will be plenty to go around.”

  “Hell yeah.” D.J. loved a good fight, whether it was in cyberspace or up close and personal.

  There was no group of men in this world that Devlin would rather have at his back. He glanced over his shoulder to see how the others were handling the tension. D.J. had a wad of gum stuck in his cheek as he hummed something off-key. Lonzo shifted from foot to foot, adrenaline making it impossible for him to stand still.

  Cullen scanned his handheld computer, no doubt checking the most current data on the condition of the barrier so they’d know what they would be facing when they reached the bottom of the shaft.

  Their mission was to shore up the defense of the barrier. He and Cullen would check it for weak spots and do what they could to strengthen it. From all reports, Trahern had been trying to stabilize it when he went down under almost overwhelming numbers of Others.

  Luckily, reinforcements had arrived in time to drive back the attack. They’d managed to get the barrier stabilized again before evacuating their injured comrades. The last word Devlin had from Research was that Trahern had been badly injured, but they’d gotten him back in time to keep him from having to go through the strain of being revived again. Laurel and Dr. Neal would have him up and around within a day or two.

  As thinly as the Paladins were deployed, Devlin was glad that the casualties were no worse. Unless the barrier flickered again, he and the others would begin mopping up the pockets of the enemy trapped in the passages. Until nightfall, the Others couldn’t leave the safety of the relative darkness of the underground. It took them a fair amount of time to adjust to the intensity of Earth’s sun, a weakness that the Paladins didn’t share.

  He could feel the hum of the high-energy barrier through the floor of the elevator. It danced along his nerves with a sweet taste that he and the other Paladins craved. From the restless sounds he heard coming from behind him, he wasn’t the only one who was feeling its effect, making them all anxious to be about their business.

  “Showtime, gentlemen.” Devlin flexed his grip on the sword. “Let’s send the bastards back across the barrier or straight to hell.”

  The elevator coasted to a stop with a soft thud. When the doors slid open, Devlin jumped forward ready to defend himself and the others, but the passageway appeared to be empty. The others fanned out behind him.

  Something was wrong. The elevator was never supposed to be left undefended whenever the barrier had been breached. The last thing they wanted was for the Others to gain control of the main access point. Devlin held up his hand to signal his companions to freeze, then he closed his eyes and let his other senses take over. The ambient temperature felt right, hovering between fifty and sixty degrees. If the barrier had flickered or come down it would be a lot hotter, as the heat from the bordering world came pouring through. The air tasted stale and smelled heavily of damp rock. Again, nothing to be concerned about.

  One by one, he identified the sounds that surrounded him. The elevator machinery, the pumps that kept the atmosphere breathable, the barely detectable rasp of air as his friends breathed in and out.

  The sound of shuffling feet as their owners felt their way along the unfamiliar passageway…definitely Others. Devlin lifted his sword in one hand as he held up three fingers and motioned toward the left. Lonzo, Cullen, and D.J. headed off in that direction as the others moved right.

  Devlin smiled. Gripping his weapon with two hands, he followed the curve of the passage, keeping the wall close to his back. Every few steps, he stopped and listened. Some of the footsteps had faded, telling him that the enemy was using their favorite tactic of splitting into smaller and smaller groups until each Other was on his own.

  He’d always wondered what their world must be like, that they avoided one another’s company so diligently. Or perhaps they operated under the theory that as long as they spread out, the Paladins would have a harder time tracking each of them down. The truth was, very few Others lived long enough to find their way into Devlin’s world.

  As the passages split off, so did the Paladins until Devlin was alone. The memory of the last time he’d tracked Others made him more cautious, taking his time to listen. When the tunnel ahead of him curved sharply to the left, blocking him from view of whoever was ahead of him, he sprinted forward to gain ground on his quarry. Just around the bend he knew the tunnel split in half, one side climbing upward toward the street overhead, the other winding back around toward the barrier.

  He paused to listen.

  Nothing.

  He eased back a few steps and waited quietly. After a few seconds, his patience was rewarded. The low murmur of voices drifted down the passage. He cocked his head to listen. As the sound faded away, he crept forward, ready to charge as soon as he identified his target.

  When he reached the split, he had to make a decision. If the enemy had gone to the right, they’d find themselves right back where they started. If they’d gone left, they could eventually find their way outside to the streets of Seattle. One or two escapees wouldn’t have too much of an adverse effect on the environment, but over time the accumulated damage could be devastating.

  He turned left and began the long, slow climb upward. About halfway up, he felt the air behind him stir as someone else moved into the passage. Whoever it was moved wrong to be one of the other Paladins, but he had no choice but to continue going forward until his mysterious companion revealed himself.

  Rather than wait around, Devlin sped up in an attempt to gain ground on the Others. He was about to turn another corner when the battle cry of his enemy rang out in the narrowing passage. He’d managed to trap them between himself and the painful sunlight outside of the underground passages. Cornered and desperate, the Others turned to fight.

  It was a pair of males, both heavily armed. Had they timed their escape better, there would likely have been a rash of murders before tomorrow morning in the city
above. The two of them fought with the desperation of the about-to-be dead, intent on taking Devlin with them on the final journey into the afterlife. Devlin smiled grimly. Did they have any idea how many of their kind had fallen beneath his sword over the decades? Even if they managed to inflict a mortal wound, he would come back to fight their kind another day.

  As they closed in on him, he did his best to avoid exposing his back to the open tunnel behind him. There was no way of knowing if their unknown companion was friend or foe.

  “Why are you here?” one asked. The Others who crossed the barrier spoke a version of English, but the words sounded harsh and guttural to the ear.

  Devlin’s smile was wicked and his tone was nasty. “To send you back across or straight to hell. It’s your choice.” He brought up the tip of the sword to emphasize the idea.

  “But we already paid.”

  Paid? Paid what? “I don’t get paid for killing the likes of you. I do it for pleasure.”

  “I knew your kind couldn’t be trusted!” Then he bellowed, “Die, human!”

  The bigger of the two Others charged at him, swinging a long sword up and over his head, bringing it down at an angle meant to separate Devlin’s head from his shoulders. It wasn’t easy to kill a Paladin for good, but that would definitely work. Devlin danced backward and then lunged forward again, narrowly missing his chance to run the bastard through.

  In a flurry of blows, the two of them fought with cold, calculated grace until both were breathing hard. Devlin counted himself lucky that he wasn’t having to fight both Others at the same time, but the passage was only wide enough for two to maneuver. If the second one joined the first, they would only hamper their own chances at success.

  Despite the chill in the air, sweat poured off Devlin’s face. His bad leg ached with the strain of the fight. His enemy quickly noticed that Devlin was favoring one side and kept attacking so that Devlin put the most weight and strain on his weaker leg. The steel of his blade rang with the repeated blows to his enemy’s weapon as he tried to stay out of reach.