Angel's Pain. Maggie Shayne
just got too busy. I’m sure he found shelter in time.”
“Would you be terribly upset if he didn’t?”
Matt paused on the stairs and stared up at the man. “Well, I’d be an orphan then, and I don’t really want to be an orphan.”
“He told you your mother is dead, then?”
“Yeah.” They reached the top of the stairs and entered the main level of the mansion. “What should I call you?”
“You can call me Derry, if you want.”
“Derry. I like that. You can call me Matt. It’s what Mom used to call me.”
“All right, Matt. I don’t want you to get into trouble for this, you know. Are you sure you won’t?”
“He’ll never know.”
Derry nodded. “Well, first things first, Matt. I think we’d better tend to these wounds. Some ointment, some bandages, a nice washup, and maybe some pain relievers, if you have any in the house.”
“We have all that. I’m in charge of making the shopping lists. Father never lets me go out to the grocery store, but I make the lists. It’s one of my jobs. The downstairs bathroom will be easier for you. It’s this way.”
The man was smiling at him as they made their way into the bathroom. “Does your father ever let you go anywhere, Matt?”
“Oh, he takes me out sometimes. But only at night, of course, and never around other people.”
“It must get pretty borin’ and lonely.”
“Yeah. Well, you know, I have tons of stuff. An Xbox and a PS3 and a Wii, and every game they ever invented for any of them. So not so much boring, but yeah on the lonely, and I get crazy being in this house all the time.”
“Hmm.” They entered the bathroom, and Derry took a seat on the toilet—lid closed, of course. Matt got all the first-aid supplies from the cabinet and laid them out on the sink counter for him. He soaked a gauze pad in peroxide and handed it to Derry, then soaked another and kept it for himself. “You work on those wrists. I’ll get started on your back.”
“Okay.” Derry turned, then winced as Matt began cleaning the welts and cuts with the soaked pad. Matt tried to be careful, but he knew it had to hurt like mad.
“I…wonder,” Derry said, in between sucking air through his teeth in pain.
“What?”
“Well, if you’re sure your father won’t be back until nightfall…”
Leaning around to face him, Matt said, “He can’t come back before nightfall. Vampire, remember?” He grinned and was happy when Derry grinned back. Then he tossed the gauze pad in the garbage pail and grabbed the tube of triple antibiotic ointment. “This won’t hurt as much,” he promised. He tried to dollop it onto the hurt places without too much contact, then handed it to Derry.
“You know, we could sneak out for a while. Maybe go to the zoo, a fast food joint for burgers and fries, a game arcade, a park. We could have fun, Matt.”
“Are you sure you feel up to it, Derry?” Matt laid the strips of gauze over the wounds, then stuck them in place with adhesive tape. “I don’t know why you didn’t just tell him whatever he wanted to know to begin with.” He shook his head sadly. “It’s always best to do what he says.” Then he finished and came around in front. “You really feel good enough to go out, Derry?”
“Well, I don’t of course, but…you helped me. I owe you one. And this might be our only chance.”
“Yeah, that’s for sure.”
“If only there were a car…oh, wait, there’s my car. Your father brought me here in his, but I heard him tell the drones to bring mine. I wonder if he still has it?”
“Sure he does,” Matt said. He was wrapping gauze around Derry’s ointment-covered left wrist now. “It’s around back.”
“Really? That’s great. I love that car.” Then Derry frowned. “Still, I don’t imagine you know where he keeps the keys.”
“Of course I do,” Matt said. He finished the first wrist, taped the gauze in place, then began wrapping the other.
“So what do you think? Should we do it? Should we get out of here for the day?” Derry asked.
Matt frowned hard, taped off the gauze, then turned to the counter to shake three tablets out of a pain reliever bottle. He handed them to Derry and spoke sternly, making his eyes very serious. “All right, but if you start feeling weak or sick or anything, we’ll just chuck it and come home, okay?”
“Of course that’s okay,” Derry said, and patted Matt on the head.
“And my father can never know.”
“Absolutely,” Derry promised. “You have my word on that.”
So Matthias carefully gathered up all the items he’d used and put them away, and then he took Derry’s hand and led him through the house in search of some clean clothes.
Derrick Dwyer admired the boy. He was mature for his age, probably because he’d been forced to learn to fend for himself. He was smart as well.
Not smart enough to realize, though, that he was about to become a hostage.
Derrick had been pushed beyond the edge of his endurance, and while he liked the kid, he wouldn’t hesitate to use him.
Or even kill him, if necessary.
4
When she woke at sundown, Briar rose instantly. She’d never been one to linger in bed. When the sun sank and the power of the day sleep vanished, it happened, for her, all at once. Her eyes opened wide, her mind came sharply alert and her senses automatically scanned her immediate surroundings for any hint of a threat.
She found none and sat up, flipped back the covers, got out of the bed and listened. But the house remained quiet. The others were likely a bit slower to rouse than she was. And as for the mortals, Roxy and Ilyana, they must be napping or in some other part of the mansion.
There was no reason to hurry, but Briar always felt as if there was, always felt in a rush to do whatever there was to be done, always felt a vague sense that if she slowed down or relaxed at all, something would catch up with her. Something bad. She never bothered to analyze that feeling. It was just the way she was.
Besides, there were things to be done. Important things. Roxy and Ilyana had planned to spend some time on the Internet during the daylight hours, scanning the news for any signs of where Gregor might be. Locating him was her only goal right now, and she was entirely focused on it.
The sooner she knew where he was, the sooner she would be able to go after him. Alone, without this gang of white-hats weighing her down, probing her psyche, trying to find some kind of redeeming quality in her soul.
They never would. She didn’t even have a soul.
Briar chose clothes from the duffel bag she hadn’t bothered to unpack, seeing as she didn’t intend to be here that long. Then she headed into the bathroom to clean up and dress and run a brush through her hair. By the time she finished, she sensed that the others were up and active. They were gathering now in one of the rooms below. She could feel their energy there. There was a sense of excitement that perked her attention. Roxy must have found something, then.
Briar hurried from her bedroom, then stopped in the living area of the suite, her attention drawn to the closed door. She wasn’t sensing Crisa. Could she be sleeping? The thought that she might have expired during her rest niggled at the back of Briar’s brain like claws scratching at her mind, drawing blood. Swallowing hard, she faced the door, lifted her chin and strode forward to fling it open.
Crisa’s