The Complete Hush, Hush Saga Page 58

  “You’re going to have to go through me before you get to her,” Scott said, laying his left arm across me and shifting his weight to shield my body. He was breathing rapidly.

  “No problem.” Rixon raised his gun and fired several rounds into Scott. Scott slumped, his body lax against mine.

  Tears streamed down my face. “Stop,” I whispered.

  “Don’t cry, love. He’s not dead. Make no mistake—he’ll be in tremendous pain when he comes around, but that’s the price you pay for a body. Get up and come here.”

  “Screw you.” I didn’t know where my courage was coming from, but if I was going to die, it wouldn’t be without a fight. “You killed my dad. I’m not doing anything for you. If you want me, come and get me yourself.”

  Rixon brushed his thumb across his mouth. “I don’t see why you’re so worked up about it. Technically, Harrison wasn’t your dad.”

  “You killed my dad,” I repeated, meeting Rixon’s eyes, feeling anger so sharp and slicing, it seemed to eat its way out of me.

  “Harrison Grey killed himself. He should have stayed out of the picture.”

  “He was trying to save another man’s life!”

  “A man?” Rixon snorted, rolling his wet sleeves up to his elbows. “I’d hardly call Hank Millar a man. He’s Nephilim. An animal, more like it.”

  I laughed, actually laughed, but it seemed to swell like a bubble in my throat, choking me. “You know what? I almost feel sorry for you.”

  “Funny, I was just about to say the same thing to you.”

  “You’re going to kill me now, aren’t you?” I expected the realization to draw another measure of fear from deep inside me, but all my fear was spent. I felt a certain frozen calm. Time didn’t slow down, and it didn’t speed up. It looked me right in the eye, as cold and unemotional as the gun Rixon was now pointing at me.

  “No, not kill. I’m going to sacrifice you.” His mouth curled up on one side. “Makes a world of difference.”

  I tried to run, but the searing fire exploded, and my body was thrown back against the wall. The pain was everywhere, and I opened my mouth to scream, but it was too late. An invisible blanket suffocated me beneath its folds. I watched Rixon’s smiling face swim in and out of focus while I clawed uselessly at the blanket. My lungs expanded, threatening to burst, and just when I thought I couldn’t stand it any longer, my chest went soft. Over Rixon’s shoulder, I saw Patch move into the doorway.

  I tried to call out to him, but the desperate need to draw air dissolved.

  It was over.

  CHAPTER

  25

  NORA?”

  I tried to open my eyes, but while my brain relayed the message, my body wasn’t listening. A slur of voices drifted in and out. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew the night was warm, but I felt bathed in cold sweat. And something else. Blood.

  My blood.

  “You’re okay,” Detective Basso said as I cried out, my voice sounding strangled. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. Stay with me, Nora. Everything is going to be fine.”

  I tried to nod, but still felt as if I existed somewhere outside my body.

  “Paramedics are taking you to the ER. They’ve got you on a gurney. We’re on our way out of Delphic right now.”

  A few hot tears tumbled down my cheeks, and I blinked my eyes open. “Rixon.” My tongue felt slippery, the words stumbling out. “Where’s Rixon?”

  Detective Basso’s mouth pinched at the edges. “Shh. Don’t talk. You took the bullet in the arm. Flesh wound. You got lucky. Everything’s going to be fine.”

  “Scott?” I said, just now remembering. I tried to raise myself up, but found I was strapped down. “Did you get Scott out?”

  “Scott was with you?”

  “Behind the electrical box. He’s hurt. Rixon shot him, too.”

  Detective Basso yelled at one of the uniformed officers standing off to the side of the ambulance, and he jumped to life, striding over. “Yes, sir, Detective?”

  “She says Scott Parnell was in the mechanical room.”

  The officer shook his head. “We searched the room. Nobody else was in there.”

  “Well, search it again!” Detective Basso shouted, flinging his arm at Delphic’s gates. He turned to me. “Who the hell is Rixon?”

  Rixon. If the police had found no one else in the mechanical room, it meant he’d escaped. He was out there somewhere, probably watching from a distance, waiting for his second chance at me. I grappled for Detective Basso’s hand, clutching it. “Don’t leave me alone.”

  “Nobody’s leaving you alone. What can you tell me about Rixon?”

  The gurney bounced across the parking lot, and the paramedics hoisted me into the back of the ambulance. Detective Basso pulled himself up, taking a seat beside me. I barely noticed; my attention had run off in another direction. I had to talk to Patch. I had to tell him about Rixon—

  “What does he look like?”

  The sound of Detective Basso’s voice yanked me back. “He was there. Last night. He tied Scott in the back of his truck.”

  “That guy shot you?” Detective Basso spoke into his radio. “Suspect’s name is Rixon. Tall and skinny, black hair. Hawk nose. Age twenty, give or take.”

  “How did you find me?” My memory was slowly sewing itself back together, and I remembered seeing Patch step into the doorway to the mechanical room. It was only for a split second, but he was there. I was sure of it. Where was he now? Where was Rixon?

  “Anonymous tip. The caller told me I’d find you in the service room at the bottom of the Tunnel of Doom. It seemed like a long shot, but I couldn’t ignore it. He also said he’d take care of the guy who shot you. I thought he was referring to Scott, but you tell me Rixon is responsible. Want to tell me what’s going on? Starting with the name of this guy who’s got your back, and where I can find him?”

  Hours later, Detective Basso slowed against the curb in front of the farmhouse. It was edging up toward two in the morning, and the windows reflected the starless sky. I’d been released from the ER, cleaned and bandaged. While the hospital staff had spoken with my mom over the phone, I hadn’t. I knew I was going to have to talk to her sooner or later, but the hustle and bustle of the hospital hadn’t seemed like the right place, and I’d shaken my head no at the nurse when she’d held out the phone to me.

  I’d also given my statement to the police. I was pretty sure Detective Basso thought I’d hallucinated seeing Scott in the mechanical room. I was pretty sure he thought I was withholding information on Rixon, too. He was right about the latter, but even if I told Detective Basso everything, he wasn’t going to find Rixon. Patch clearly had, however—or at least had made it known that was his plan. But I knew nothing beyond that. I’d carried my heart in my throat since leaving Delphic, wondering where Patch was, and what had happened after I blacked out.

  We swung out of the car, and Detective Basso walked me to the door.

  “Thanks again,” I told him. “For everything.”

  “Call if you need me.”

  Inside, I flicked on the lights. In the bathroom, I peeled out of my clothes, my progress hampered by the fact that the upper half of my left arm was swathed in bandages. The tang of fear and panic was fresh on my clothes, and I left them in a heap on the floor. After wrapping my bandages in plastic, I climbed into the steam of the shower.

  As the hot water drummed down on me, scenes from earlier tonight replayed in bursts across my mind. I pretended the water could wash away all of it, carrying everything I’d been through down the drain. It was over. All of it. But there was one thing I couldn’t wash away. The Black Hand.

  If Patch wasn’t the Black Hand, who was? And how did Rixon, a fallen angel, know so much about him?

  Twenty minutes later, I toweled off and checked the home phone for messages. One call from Enzo’s, seeing if I could take a shift tonight. An irate call from Vee demanding to know where I was. The police had kicked her out of
the parking lot and closed down the amusement park—but not before telling her they could personally assure her that I was safe, and would she please drive home and stay there? She ended the call by shouting, “If I missed out on some really big action, I’m going to be royally pissed off!”

  The third message was from an unknown caller, but I recognized Scott’s voice the minute he started talking. “If you tell the police about this message, I’ll be long gone before they track me down. Just wanted to say sorry one more time.” He paused, and I heard a smile inch into his voice. “Since I know you’re worried sick about me, I thought I’d let you know I’m healing, and I’ll be good as new in no time. Thanks for the tip regarding my, uh, health.”

  A tiny smile broke inside me, and the weight of the unknown lifted. Scott was okay after all.

  “It was nice knowing you, Nora Grey. Who knows. Maybe this isn’t the last you’ll hear of me. Maybe we’ll cross paths in the future.” Another pause. “One more thing. I sold the Mustang. Too conspicuous. Don’t get too excited, but I bought you a little something with the extra cash. I heard you’ve had your eye on a Volkswagen. The owner is dropping it by tomorrow. I paid for a full tank of gas, so make sure she delivers.”

  The message ended, but I was still staring at the phone. The Volkswagen? For me? I was dazed with delight and baffled surprise. A car. Scott had bought me a car. In an attempt to return the favor, I deleted the message, erasing all evidence he’d ever called. If the police found Scott, it wouldn’t be because of me. Somehow, I didn’t think they’d find him anyway.

  Phone in hand, I called my mom. I wasn’t going to put this off any longer. I’d come too close to death tonight. I was amending my life, cleaning out and starting fresh, and I was doing it now. The only thing left standing in my way was this call.

  “Nora?” she answered in a panicked voice. “I got the detective’s message. I’m on my way home right now. Are you all right? Tell me you’re all right!”

  I drew a shaky breath. “I am now.”

  “Oh, baby, I love you so much. You know that, right?” she sobbed.

  “I know the truth.”

  A pause.

  “I know the truth about what really happened sixteen years ago,” I said more clearly.

  “What are you talking about? I’m almost home. I haven’t been able to stop shaking since I hung up with the detective. I’m a wreck, an absolute wreck. Do they have any idea who this guy—this Rixon—is? What he wanted with you? I don’t understand how you got dragged into this.”

  “Why couldn’t you have just told me?” I whispered, tears brimming my eyes.

  “Baby?”

  “Nora.” I’m not a little girl anymore. “All those years you lied to me. All those times I went off on Marcie. All those times we laughed at the Millars for being stupid and rich and tactless—” My voice caught.

  I’d been brimming with anger earlier, but I didn’t know how to feel now. Upset? Weary? Lost and all in a jumble? My parents had started out doing Hank Millar a favor, but obviously grew to love each other . . . and me. We’d made things work. We’d been happy. My dad was gone now, but he still thought about me. He still cared about me. He would want me to keep what was left of our family together instead of running away from my mom.

  It’s what I wanted too.

  I sucked in some air. “When you get home, we need to talk. About Hank Millar.”

  I microwaved a mug of hot chocolate and carried it to my bedroom. My first reaction was to feel fear over being all alone in the farmhouse, knowing Rixon could be running free. My second reaction was a quiet calm. I couldn’t say why, but somehow, I knew I was safe. I tried to remember what had happened in the mechanical room moments before I fell unconscious. Patch had walked into the room . . . .

  And then I drew a blank. Which was frustrating, because I sensed more to the memory. It danced just out of reach, but I knew it was important.

  After a while, I gave up trying to recapture the memory, and my thoughts took a sharp, alarming turn. My biological father was alive. Hank Millar had given me life, then given me up to protect me. Right now, I had no desire to contact him. It was too painful to even think about approaching him. It would be admitting he was my father, and I didn’t want that. It was hard enough keeping my real dad’s face in my memory; I didn’t want to replace that picture or fade it any faster than it already would. No, I’d leave Hank Millar right where he was—at a distance. I wondered if someday I’d change my mind, and the possibility terrified me. Not only the fact that I had a whole other life hidden away, but the fact that once I uncovered it, the life I currently had would be altered forever.

  I didn’t have any desire to dwell on Hank further, but there was one thing still not adding up. Hank hid me away as a baby to protect me from Rixon because I was a girl. But what about Marcie? My—sister. She had as much of his blood as I did. Then why didn’t he hide her? I tried reasoning it out in my head, but I didn’t have an answer.

  I’d just curled under the blankets when there was a knock at the door. I set the mug of hot chocolate on the nightstand. There weren’t too many people who would be stopping by this late at night. I padded downstairs and peered into the peephole. But I didn’t need the peephole to confirm who stood on the other side of the door. I knew it was Patch from the way my heart couldn’t carry a steady rhythm.

  I opened the door. “You told Detective Basso where to find me. You stopped Rixon from shooting me.”

  Patch’s dark eyes assessed me. For half a moment, I saw a string of emotions play out inside them. Exhaustion, worry, relief. He smelled of rust, stale cotton candy, and dank water, and I knew he’d been close by when Detective Basso found me in the heart of the fun house. He’d been right there the whole time, making sure I was safe.

  He wrapped his arms around me and held me tight, clutching me against him. “I thought I got there too late. I thought you were dead.”

  I curled my hands into the front of his shirt and bent my head against his chest. I didn’t care that I was crying. I was safe, and Patch was here. Nothing else mattered.

  “How did you find me?” I asked.

  “I’d thought for a while it was Rixon,” he said quietly. “But I had to make sure.”

  I looked up. “You knew Rixon wanted to kill me?”

  “I kept picking up clues, but I didn’t want to believe them. Rixon and I were friends—” Patch’s voice cracked. “I didn’t want to believe he’d cross me. When I was your guardian angel, I sensed someone was out to kill you. I didn’t know who, because they were being careful. They weren’t actively meditating on killing you, so I wasn’t getting much of a picture. I knew a human wouldn’t cover their thoughts that carefully. They wouldn’t know their thoughts were transmitting all kinds of information to angels. Every now and then I’d get a flash of insight. Little things that made me look at Rixon, even though I didn’t want to. I set him up with Vee so I could keep a closer watch on him. Also because I didn’t want to give him any reason to think I was onto him. I knew the only reason he’d kill you was for a human body, so I started digging into Barnabas’s past. That’s when I figured out the truth. Rixon was two steps ahead of me, but he must have found out after I tracked you down and enrolled in school last year. He wanted to sacrifice you as much as I did. He did everything he could to convince me to give up on the Book of Enoch so I wouldn’t kill you and he could.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me he was trying to kill me?”

  “I couldn’t. You fired me as your guardian angel. I physically couldn’t intervene in your life when it came to your safety. The archangels blocked me every time I tried. But I found a way around them. I figured out I could make you see my memories while you were sleeping. I tried to give you the information you’d need to figure out Hank Millar was your biological dad, and Rixon’s Nephilim vassal. I know you think I abandoned you when you needed me most, but I never gave up searching for a way to warn you about Rixon.” His mouth tugged up on one
side, but it was a tired gesture. “Even when you kept blocking me.”

  I realized I was holding my breath and slowly released it. “Where is Rixon now?”

  “I sent him to hell. He’s never coming back.” Patch stared straight ahead, his eyes hard, but not angry. Disappointed, maybe. Wishing for a different outcome. But underneath it all, I suspected he was suffering more than he let on. He’d sent his closest friend, and the one person who’d been at his side through everything, to face an eternity of darkness.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

  We stood in silence a moment, both of us replaying our own image of Rixon’s fate in our heads. I hadn’t seen it firsthand, but the image I conjured up was gruesome enough to send a shudder right through me.

  Finally Patch said in my thoughts, I’ve gone rogue, Nora. As soon as the archangels figure it out, they’ll come looking for me. You were right. I don’t really care about breaking rules.

  I felt the mad impulse to push Patch out the door. His words drummed in my head. Rogue? The first place the archangels would look was here. Was he being deliberately careless? “Are you crazy?” I said.

  “Crazy about you.”

  “Patch!”

  “Don’t worry, we’ve got time.”

  “How do you know?”

  He staggered back a step, with his hand over his heart. “Your lack of faith hurts.”

  I only looked more sternly at him. “When did you do it? When did you go rogue?”

  Earlier tonight. I dropped by here to make sure you were safe. I knew Rixon was at Delphic, and when I saw the note on your counter saying that’s where you’d gone, I knew he was going to make his move. I broke with the archangels and went after you. If I hadn’t broken with them, Angel, I physically couldn’t have stepped in. Rixon would have won.

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  Patch held me tighter. I wanted to stay in his embrace and ignore everything but the feel of his strong, solid body, yet there were questions that couldn’t wait.

  “Does this mean you’ll no longer be Marcie’s guardian angel?” I asked.