The Vanishing Stair (Truly Devious #2)(73)

“I said get rid of Arganbright,” Nyla snapped.

“Let’s go,” Tony said.

Slater did not move.

“I said move.”

Tony grabbed Slater’s shoulder, jerked him around and propelled him outside and onto the dock.

The physical contact provided the connection that allowed Slater to use his talent like a dagger. When they reached the end of the dock he struck hard and fast, using everything he had to overwhelm the triplet’s aura. This time he had full control.

Tony convulsed, wheezing as he tried to take a breath. But his lungs were locked up by the sudden cold. He collapsed and toppled forward. He squeezed off a shot but it was a reflexive move. The round went into the water. Unfortunately, his gun did, too.

Okay, so not everything was going according to plan, Slater thought. But the plan, such as it was, had been shaky from the start. Sometimes you had to improvise.

He flattened his back against the stone wall beside the doorway. Sooner or later someone would venture outside to see what had delayed Tony. Odds were good that it would be Jared who stuck his head through the doorway.

Catalina and Olivia were screaming now. Their anguish sounded genuine. Their fury and despair reverberated off the stone walls of the lab.

“Shut up,” Nyla shouted. “Shut up, both of you, or Olivia will be next.”

Both women went suddenly quiet.

Finally, finally, Jared realized something had gone wrong outside.

He yelled through the doorway. “Tony? What’s happening?”

When he got no response, he did the smart thing and got nervous.

“Something’s wrong,” he announced to Nyla.

“The boat,” Nyla said, alarmed. “If Arganbright gets into it, he’ll get away. Stop him.”

Jared hesitated and then fired several shots randomly through the doorway. Evidently satisfied that he had provided sufficient cover for himself, he stuck his head and the gun through the opening to survey the scene.

Slater grabbed the arm holding the gun and hauled the triplet through the doorway. Jared grunted and pulled the trigger a couple more times. The shots thudded into the wooden boards of the dock.

Inside the lab the screaming started up again. Nyla this time. Howling in rage and panic and pain. Glass shattered.

“You’re crazy,” Nyla screeched. “What have you done?”

Another surge of adrenaline gave Slater the energy he needed to send currents of ice into Jared. The triplet landed heavily on the boards. He looked up at Slater, his face twisted in horror and disbelief.

“What are you?” he gasped.

“Really pissed off,” Slater said.

The triplet collapsed, unconscious.

Slater grabbed the gun and lunged through the doorway. He slammed to a halt when he saw that Nyla was clinging to the end of one of the old workbenches. As he watched, she lost her grip and sagged to her knees. Her mouth opened and closed. Her eyes rolled back in her head.

“Not like this,” she whispered. “Can’t end like this.”

She crumpled to the floor and did not move.

Catalina looked at Slater.

“Finally found a use for that auto-injector you gave me,” she said.





CHAPTER 34


I understand that the Foundation authorities are not popular here in Fogg Lake,” Slater said.

“Damn right,” Euclid Oaks muttered. “Nothing but trouble.”

A chorus of affirming responses rippled across the crowded room. Unlike the informal gathering that had taken place in the restaurant, this was an official town hall meeting. The venue was the library. It was still early morning, but the place was packed. Catalina was sure the entire population of Fogg Lake had turned out for the event. The future of the community was at stake.

Catalina and Olivia sat in the front row. All eyes were on Slater, who was standing at the front of the room. Euclid, in his role as mayor, stood nearby.

“Your opinion of the Foundation was formed when the Rancourts were in charge,” Slater continued. “It was another time. I’m asking you to give Victor Arganbright and his people a chance to prove to you that things have changed.”

A lot of snorting and murmurs of disbelief greeted that statement.

“Tough crowd,” Catalina whispered to Olivia.

“Small towns,” Olivia observed in equally low tones. “They don’t change easily. One of the reasons we left, remember?”

At the front of the room, Slater continued. “My uncles are working to bring attitudes and policies into the modern era, but the legacy of the Bluestone Project is complicated. There are those in high places who are willing to do whatever they think is required to keep the past buried.”

Jake Crabtree, a thin, intense man of about forty, shot to his feet. “Why is anyone worried about having the truth come out? Everyone who was affiliated with the project is either dead or too old to care.”

“The people who want the program hushed up aren’t concerned with the embarrassment factor,” Slater said. “You’re right. These days no one really gives a damn that, back in the day, the government spent a fortune on paranormal research. Certain clandestine agencies have a long history of investigating psychic phenomena. Most people know that. But the Bluestone Project was different because it produced some results. Everyone in this room is proof of that.”