Page 86 of Shattering Dawn
There was no time. She sensed the presence behind her, felt the sting of the syringe needle in the back of her shoulder, had a few seconds to understand that Irene had been waiting for her inside the laundry room, and then the bottomless tide of night rose up to take her.
She fought the darkness, trying to focus on Irene, who was bending over her, easing her descent to the floor.
“The coffee,” she whispered, her voice thickening rapidly. “You drugged it.”
“I’m afraid so,” Irene said. “It’s very fast acting. Your bodyguard never knew what hit him.”
“You searched my darkroom while I was gone.”
“Now how did you figure that out? Never mind. After I found the photos from Night Island I knew for sure I had a problem and had to move quickly.”
Amelia heard the front door open. A man spoke.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Yes,” Irene said. “Take her downstairs and put her in the van. What’s the situation with Gideon Sweetwater?”
“Under control. He showed up at the house, like you said. Found the safe room. The gas got him. Weaver is questioning him now. When he’s done he’ll make sure Sweetwater disappears. What do you want me to do with the one in the kitchen?”
“Don’t worry about him. He’ll be out for a while. When he recovers he won’t have any memories of what happened.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to finish him?”
“We don’t have time to figure out how to get rid of the body,” Irene snapped. “Now pick her up. Hurry. If anyone sees you say she’s ill and we’re taking her to the ER.”
Amelia felt muscular arms sliding under her shoulder and knees, hoisting her up into the air. She could no longer fight off the dark. This was how it had been seven months ago when she and Talia and Pallas had been lured to Lucent Springs. Was she going to lose another night of her life? Maybe she would never wake up. Never see Gideon again.
That last thought acted like a shot of adrenaline, rousing her briefly. Gideon was in danger and there was nothing she could do to save him.
Gideon, I love you.
The short flash of energy dissipated. The last thing she heard was Irene’s voice. It came to her from a long way away.
“Really sorry about this, Amelia. Under other circumstances I think we could have been friends.”
Chapter Fifty-one
“We know theenhancement serum requires regular boosters,”the voice said.“How long will you last if you don’t get your next dose on time? A few hours? Days, maybe? I can give you an injection of the drug. I’ve got an extra dose on me. All you have to do is answer my questions…”
Gideon closed his eyes and kept his back planted against the reassuringly hard surface of the wall. He concentrated on the crystal he clutched in the palm of his hand.
He was sure he could feel Amelia’s energy in the stone. Maybe it was the hallucinogenic gas or simply the damned placebo effect, but it was all he had so he leaned into it. He could have sworn the crystal distracted him from the voice and helped him steer a path through the visions. His Sweetwater intuition stirred beneath the smothering weight of the dreamscape. It told him that his only hope was to maintain his silence.
“Fuck this,”the voice said.“The boss will be pissed if you die before I get answers out of you. I don’t have time to wait for you to feel like talking. We’ll do this the old-fashioned way. The unpleasant way.”
The metal barrier slid open. Gideon tightened his grip on the crystal and opened his eyes. A figure loomed in the doorway, silhouetted against the gloom of the bathroom. His face was partially concealed behind a respirator mask. He had a pistol in one hand.
“On your feet, Sweetwater. I need answers.”
A rush of ice-cold rage slammed through Gideon.
“I need information, too,” he said.
Intuitively, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, he channeled the full force of his psychic senses through the crystal.
The stone responded to his energy the way a finely tuned race car did when the driver stomped on the accelerator. He suddenly had more focus, more control, and more raw power than he had ever had.
Instead of hitting the target like a grenade, the psychic blast struck with the devastating impact of a sniper’s bullet. The man in the mask convulsed violently, reflexively pulling the trigger of the pistol as he fell.