Standing in the Shadows (McClouds & Friends #2)(140)

"You are a demon," she said.

He looked hurt. "Not at all. I have a very tender heart. I used to visit Claude from time to time, back when my life was less complicated. I would hold his hand, tell him of my various doings. They say comatose people understand on some deep level. But you know that already."

She struggled up into a sitting position. "You've been watching me ever since Connor was in the clinic. All this time."

"Your devotion gave me the idea," Novak said. "McCloud gave me another when he brutalized Georg. The two of you were destined to destroy each other. Your mother—pah, too easy. Cindy, too. Like your father. But you, Erin. You are the key to that whole family. All that moral fiber and self-control. All that rigorous effort."

She had slipped into a state of surreal calm. "So this is to punish Dad, for failing you, and the McClouds for catching you? That's all?

"Ah, yes, the McCloud brothers. Connor's death and disgrace will set them on the road to ruin, and I will pick them off at my leisure. There are Seth Mackey and his bride to think of, too, but no hurry. Everyone who has dared to affront me will be punished. And not a trace will lead back to me, because I no longer exist. I am transfigured."

"So you have nothing against me personally," she persisted.

"No," he said. "You couldn't cross me. It's not in your nature."

"My nature is changing." Erin struggled up onto wobbling legs, supporting herself against the wall. "I've loosened up quite a bit. I've been leaving my bed unmade, the dishes unwashed. Losing my temper. Using swear words. My tolerance for chaos has risen sharply lately."

Novak laughed at her. "Bravado in the face of doom. It almost moves me to pity." His eyes flicked to Georg. "Almost."

Erin's mind was strangely lucid. Novak was the embodiment of her nightmares, the goad behind her ceaseless efforts to control her world and keep chaos at bay. And all her struggles had led her straight here, into this monster's grasp.

The fear of chaos had controlled her all her life. She may have just a few minutes left to live, but she would be free in them. She would create her own reality for as long as she had the power. She drew herself up as tall as possible. "Your plan is inherently flawed," she said.

Novak looked slightly startled, as if a doll had come to life and criticized him. He gestured politely for her to explain herself.

"You studied everyone's strengths and weaknesses, but you forgot one thing," she said. "Real people grow. They change. But for you, everything is already dead. Inanimate objects for you to move around. Because you're dead inside, Novak. You can't grow. That's why you hate us all so much. If I were a saint, maybe I would pity you, but I'm not. You miserable, twisted, dead thing."

Novak blinked. He looked at Georg. "Hit her again."

Georg lifted his arm. Erin cringed against the table and braced herself.

The lamps flicked off. The image of Connor on the video screen collapsed into a pinpoint of light and vanished into a flat gray void.



* * *





Chapter Twenty-Five





Someone was slapping him. Saying something urgent. Yelling. He wanted to tell them to stop, but his tongue and lips and teeth couldn't figure out the choreography of speech. A haze of black and red and white swam in his vision. It coalesced into a white oval. A face. Emerald eyes. Lips, teeth, moving soundlessly.

Slap, slap. The green-eyed bitch wouldn't leave him alone.

Icy water splashed his face. He gasped into wakefulness. "What?"

"Wake up, you idiot! We don't have much time. Once they get the power back on, they'll be on to me."

He squeezed his eyes shut, opened them. "What the f*ck—"

"It's Tamara. You're Connor McCloud. Novak's got you tied to a bed, and Erin at gunpoint. Does that ring a bell?"

"Erin? Novak?" He surged up, and was jerked back by the duct tape that held him to the bed. "Where is Erin?"

"Excellent. Much better," Tamara said. "Now listen carefully. We don't have much time. I'm going to untie you, and give you a weapon. Then you are going to help me kill Kurt Novak. Are you up for it?"

He nodded, bemused, as she pulled a knife out of a seam in her skirt and set to work on the tape that bound him. One arm came loose, then the other, numb from being pulled so tightly. Her full skirt rustled as she hurried around the bed and started on his feet.

He straggled into a sitting position. "Are you an undercover cop?"

She laughed abruptly. "Hah. Far from it. It's a personal thing."

"What did Novak do to you?" A foot sprang loose, swathed in gray tape. He still couldn't feel it.

"He murdered my favorite lover." Tamara's voice was matter-of-fact. She slashed his other foot free. "Nobody touches my stuff."

"Oh." His brain was so squishy and soft from the drug they'd pumped into him that the pattern just leaped out of the net and broadsided him. "Tamara… Mara! From Stone Island! You were Victor Lazar's mistress. I remember now. I saw you on the vid clips. But you were a brunette. You've changed your nose. And your eyes were…"

"Topaz, smart boy," she said. "Yellow cat eyes. Lucky for both of us you weren't smart enough to figure that out at Silver Fork. You would have gotten your throat slit. Maybe mine, too. Come on, now. On your feet. Move. Get that blood pumping."