Authors: Lynn Viehl
Frostfire (5 page)
“Not a problem. Keep your chin up.” He touched the brim of his hat and left.
Once she had closed and locked the door, Lilah pressed her brow against it and released a long breath. This wasn’t the worst day of her life, but it would do fine as runner-up. Slowly she turned around. She hadn’t decorated for Christmas yet, and in the last of the sunlight from the windows, what furniture she had looked scruffier than usual. She’d tacked up a few cheap but pretty posters of landscapes on the bare walls, and made curtains from some old tablecloths she’d found at a rummage sale, but the rest of her possessions looked cheap or worn-out. Even her old Toshiba, sitting on the card table she used as a desk, appeared ready for the laptop graveyard.
Although it was risky, she always left her computer out in the front room and switched on, and checked it right before she left and again as soon as she arrived home. Vulcan had sent her an encryption program so complicated that only a genius hacker could access it, and the moment he did, the computer would release a vicious virus that would destroy the contents of its hard drive in seconds.
Now she sat down with the laptop in the dented, slightly rusted folding metal chair she’d rescued from a Dumpster, and clicked on the Internet icon, waiting patiently for her dial-up to connect her. Vulcan thought she was crazy not to install high-speed, but she actually preferred the lag. It gave her time to think, and if for any reason she needed to break the connection, she could simply yank the phone cord out of the wall jack.
No one was in the protected chat room they used, but Lilah knew as soon as she signed on, alerts would go out to the rest of the group. Sure enough, an avatar with a bubbling beaker appeared a few moments later.
Del, everything all right?
Lilah smiled sadly before she began to type.
Not really. Bad day here. One problem after another.
Not really. Bad day here. One problem after another.
Paracelsus typed in a sad face and
Anything I can do?
Anything I can do?
She knew some of her Takyn friends were wealthy; while they kept their real-life identities and locations confidential, and never bragged about their situations, they sometimes let things slip. She knew Paracelsus collected antiques and lived part of the year somewhere on the beach. He was always the first to offer funds to anyone in the group who was in trouble. She was also fairly certain he and the others knew she wasn’t rolling in it, as her most frequent request was for advice on how to fix things she couldn’t afford to replace, like the laptop, her water heater, her transmission....
Del? Serious problems?
She bit her lip. Losing her job and her car in one day was probably nothing more than bad luck and a lousy coincidence, but she couldn’t shake off the sense of unease. And if she’d learned anything since her ability had manifested, it was to trust her instincts.
I’m not sure, but I think I need to take off for a while. Go visit some of the family.
I’m not sure, but I think I need to take off for a while. Go visit some of the family.
He knew she was, like all the Takyn, an orphan.
When are you leaving?
When are you leaving?
The only place she could rent a car tonight was the airport, and she didn’t have enough cash on her to cover the cab fare.
Tomorrow morning, first thing. I’ll probably be on the road for a couple days.
Hopefully her credit card limit would hold out for as long as it took to find a new place to live.
Tomorrow morning, first thing. I’ll probably be on the road for a couple days.
Hopefully her credit card limit would hold out for as long as it took to find a new place to live.
You’ll check in, let me know how you are?
They always kept tabs on one another, especially when they relocated. It wasn’t a matter of friendship as much as it was survival. But as uneasy as she was, Lilah doubted anyone was coming after her now. From what Jezebel and Aphrodite had told her about GenHance, they shot first and never asked any questions. If the bastards at the biotech firm
had
discovered what she was, they would have grabbed her, not her car.
had
discovered what she was, they would have grabbed her, not her car.
Absolutely
, she typed.
, she typed.
Once she signed off, Lilah went to the kitchen and made a peanut butter and banana sandwich and a mug of hot chocolate, both of which she carried back into her bedroom. She switched on the Weather Channel and curled up on her bed, nibbling at the sandwich as she watched Jim Cantore offer details on a massive snowstorm moving inland from the Rockies, and the various ways in which the residents of six different states would be affected by it.
“You should tell them to move to Florida, Jim,” she said to the television. “Just don’t mention the hurricanes, the tornadoes, or the floods.”
The ancient chenille bedspread she’d found at a church rummage sale kept her warm, and the hot drink and the food made her drowsy. Although Lilah suspected her sleepiness was more from depression and mental stress than real exhaustion, she resisted it. She still had some chores and lockup to do before she went to sleep. She didn’t know why she felt so exhausted, but her body didn’t even want to twitch, much less move.
She still had . . .
The dreams she had that she remembered were sometimes a little odd but never frightening; if Lilah had ever had a nightmare, she’d forgotten it the moment she woke. Mostly she dreamed of walking through different places, like through city streets and garden parks, across broad fields, and along empty roads. Wherever she went, it was always night, and she was always alone; no one else populated her dreams. She’d often wondered if it was some subconscious way of retreating from the world of people, the only creatures she really did fear.
What made the dreams seem odd was not the locations but the emotions Lilah felt as she moved through them. Once she passed the front display window of an art gallery, and stopped to examine the featured painting, a lovely and minutely detailed landscape of a vineyard with sun-gilded dark grapes. Normally it would have given her pleasure, as she preferred realistic art, and the artist had done an amazing job, almost to the point of making it look like a photograph. Yet while she stared at it, she felt a surge of uncharacteristic hatred welling up in her, and at one point felt like smashing in the glass with her fists.
Another night she walked through a school yard, and passed some swings that were swaying in the wind. She thought of ghost children, playing in the night, and began to smile at her own whimsy. A wrenching grief struck her then, so hard she almost doubled over. She ended up running away from the playground as if she couldn’t bear the sight of it.
Both times the emotions went almost as quickly as they came over her, but the feeling of wrongness lingered. She had no reason to hate vineyards or kids. She enjoyed a glass of wine now and then, and while she didn’t plan on having any children of her own, she thought they were one of the few universally wonderful things in life, like puppies and kittens.
Because Lilah trusted the safety of her dreams more than she did a bank vault in the real world, the rectangular cube of white walls that closed in around her didn’t alarm her. She reached out to touch one of them and discovered the whiteness was not paint but hard-packed snow. When the icy crystals burned her fingers, she drew back her hand and turned around, looking for a way out.
A black wolf stood watching her, its light gray eyes steady, its muzzle pulled up around long, sharp white fangs. It didn’t make a sound, but its muscles bunched under its frost-covered pelt as if it was prepared to spring.
Lilah reached out with her ability, trying to find a way in, but the wolf’s eyes were as impenetrable as their prison.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” she said out loud. “I’m trapped here, too.”
The wolf lowered its head, sniffing at the ice beneath their feet before regarding her again, this time with slightly less aggression. It still didn’t trust her, but it wasn’t going to attack unless she provoked it.
Lilah slowly dropped down, crouching before the wolf so that she appeared smaller and less threatening, and held out the back of her hand in silent invitation.
The wolf moved then, circling to her right, showing off the lean, strong body of a male in his prime. As he moved behind her, it took all her nerve not to glance back. She could feel the heat of his breath on her neck, the brush of his icy fur against the thin fabric of her nightshirt. Then he moved in front of her, his cold nose first sniffing and then nudging her extended hand.
She turned it palm up, moving her fingertips through the rough silk of his fur. Although he was caked in frost, he felt deliciously warm, and smelled of woodsmoke and cedar. The rare privilege of being able to touch such a creature gave her so much pleasure she almost purred with it.
Finally the light gray eyes lifted to her face, and Lilah tried again to reach into his mind, but this time something pushed her back and then kept coming, passing through her eyes and reaching into her own mind, as if the wolf was doing the same to her.
The presence became a dense shadow, blocking out her senses to everything but the wolf’s eyes.
Who are you?
Who are you?
Hearing speech-thought from an animal shocked and delighted her into replying with the same.
Lilah. My name is Lilah.
Lilah. My name is Lilah.
I am Guide.
Guide.
She knew animals didn’t think of themselves or others as named creatures; even dogs responded to names only as a command word they were accustomed to.
What are we doing here, Guide?
She knew animals didn’t think of themselves or others as named creatures; even dogs responded to names only as a command word they were accustomed to.
What are we doing here, Guide?
You came here. You are like me.
I’m dreaming of this place
, she told him.
It’s not real. Are you asleep somewhere?
, she told him.
It’s not real. Are you asleep somewhere?
Asleep.
He seemed to struggle with the word.
No. I do not sleep. I am injured. Captured.
He seemed to struggle with the word.
No. I do not sleep. I am injured. Captured.
She hadn’t seen any wounds on his body, and had no sense of pain, but she could feel his emotions. Like a human, Guide felt bewildered and vulnerable, unable to understand what was happening to him. But beneath that confusion was something much darker, a vast and snarling rage, unlike anything she’d ever felt from another living thing. It roiled in him, twisting in the cage of his control, struggling to free itself. If it did, Lilah sensed, he would attack anything that moved, even her.
It’s all right.
She tried to soothe him with her hands, stroking his bristling ruff.
Can you wake from this sleep? Can you get away and hide until you heal?
She tried to soothe him with her hands, stroking his bristling ruff.
Can you wake from this sleep? Can you get away and hide until you heal?
I am trapped here.
Guide lifted his head.
There were others. Men. They chained me. They did things to me. But not enough. Not nearly enough.
Guide lifted his head.
There were others. Men. They chained me. They did things to me. But not enough. Not nearly enough.
What things?
They put things in me. Changed me from what I was. I have lost myself.
He had wanted to die, and Lilah couldn’t blame him. To be captured and experimented on was the worst fate for anything born in the wild.
If you’re alive, you still have a chance to get away.
If you’re alive, you still have a chance to get away.
What is there to live for?
She looked around, suddenly understanding why she was dreaming of this frigid, featureless box. This must be how the wolf saw his cage—somehow Guide was projecting his subconscious view into her mind.
You know there is more to the world than this.
You know there is more to the world than this.
Once there was.
The walls of snow melted away, and Lilah found herself standing on a cliff overlooking the sea.
She didn’t recognize the place, although it stirred something inside her, something she didn’t want to think about now.
Is this your home?
Is this your home?
It is where I was before . . .
His thoughts dissolved into a wordless tangle of anger and regret.
His thoughts dissolved into a wordless tangle of anger and regret.
She knelt down beside him, curling an arm around his neck.
Is there another place you can show me?
Is there another place you can show me?
The cliffs darkened and rose even higher, stretching up toward the sky. At the same time the rock they stood on dropped, flattening and spreading into a flower-speckled meadow. Although it was night, and the meadow appeared deserted except for some fireflies, Lilah felt another presence, one that remained out of sight while it watched them.
She stood and turned around, and while she saw nothing familiar, she had a definite sense of déjà vu.
I think I know this place.
She glanced down at the wolf.
Where are we?
I think I know this place.
She glanced down at the wolf.
Where are we?
I have no name for it.
Guide lifted his head and sniffed the air.
There were others here. Outcasts like me. They gathered here to be safe. But they would not let me come near them.
Guide lifted his head and sniffed the air.
There were others here. Outcasts like me. They gathered here to be safe. But they would not let me come near them.
He was lucky that he hadn’t been killed. Pack animals like wolves rarely welcomed rogues into their territory.
Maybe you were meant to gather your own pack.
Maybe you were meant to gather your own pack.
He stiffened, and the mountain valley shrank in on them and became the snow cage.
They have come for you.
They have come for you.
Me?
The abrupt transition made her a little dizzy, and she sat down on the floor beside him.
Why?
The abrupt transition made her a little dizzy, and she sat down on the floor beside him.
Why?
I am not all they want.
Guide nuzzled her hair.
They come for you. You must wake now. You must escape before they take you.
Guide nuzzled her hair.
They come for you. You must wake now. You must escape before they take you.
In her mind Lilah saw through his eyes again, this time through an open rectangle of dark space. She glimpsed the back door of a house, and the two figures standing outside it. The smaller of the two was fiddling with the lock while the other whispered to him. The bigger one was holding what looked like a shaving-kit case and a large black plastic garbage bag. The stock of a handgun protruded from his waistband.
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