Dark Embrace. Brenda Joyce
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He was working again. The “witch” burnings in the city were on the rise. His latest intelligence debriefing had indicated that Bloomberg was seriously considering calling in the National Guard, and he thought it was about time. Pleasure crimes still dominated the murder rate, but those random demonic acts were almost unpreventable—like suicide bombers. The “witch” burnings were another matter. He knew in his gut that the gang leader of these medieval crimes was a great demon from the past. His gut was always dead-on.
Now he was immersed in medieval history, looking for any references to such burnings in past times. HCU had software to look for coincidental data, but he didn’t trust the damn programs and he never would. The program wasn’t that sophisticated, only matching words and phrases. A single isolated burning of a heretic, a traitor or a witch didn’t interest him, nor did the burning of a thirteenth-century peasant’s home or a baron’s castle. He was looking for a series of the violent crimes, probably committed by a group of adolescents but run by a single, very clever entity.
His cell buzzed.
Nick picked up at the first ring. A woman he did not know spoke. “Brie Rose needs medical attention, ASAP!”
“Who the hell is this?” he demanded, alert but annoyed at her commanding tone. He was wary, too. She could be a crank or even something else.
“Her cousin Sam Rose, and if you don’t want her going to Emergency, you need to send your people in. Hurry—she may be dying.” The phone went dead.
Nick was already speed-dialing his own medevac people while pulling up Brie Rose’s file on his HCU screen. In thirty seconds, he had sent his medical team to her loft and was pulling on a T-shirt, seizing his Beretta, car keys and shoes. He ignored the sleeping blonde as he left his condo, stepping into his shoes in the elevator. A minute later he was peeling out of the building’s underground garage in his black Expedition; eight minutes later he was leaping out of the vehicle, an ambulance marked Cornell Presbyterian already in front of Brie’s building. The ambulance belonged to CDA, and was deliberately mismarked.
He went up with the paramedics, growing aware of Brie’s struggle. He could feel her fighting for her life, and her fear of dying. Alarmed, he searched the perimeter but did not sense evil nearby. He couldn’t discern what had put her on the brink of death.
A beautiful blonde who looked like a rock star met him at the door. he felt her power and instantly knew she was a vigilante warrior. Glancing past her, he saw Brie, unconscious on the floor, in another beautiful woman’s arms. That one had power, too, but it was not that of a Slayer’s. He didn’t have time to try to identify it.
Although he knew the gossips nailed him as cold and uncaring, it wasn’t true. He’d hand-selected every single employee at HCU and considered them all his personal responsibility, especially mousy Brie. He was even a bit fond of her—and not because she was brilliant. He felt sorry for her. She was a recluse, with no life outside of work. He had sensed her powers before he’d hired her. It had taken him a moment to decide what they were but he could read minds whenever he chose and he was fairly conscienceless about it if it was in the line of duty. He didn’t expect her to come clean. He knew that her unusual perceptions were often used on the cases he sent to her and that worked fine for him.
As the medics went to take her vitals, he said grimly, “What happened?”
The woman holding Brie in her arms looked up at him. He felt his interest quicken. She was elegance and beauty personified. She said hoarsely, “She’s empathic, and someone we know was being tortured. She felt everything they did to him. She’s hurt.”
“No kidding.” He was wary. These women were outsiders. How much did they know? And vigilantes always messed up his investigations. He looked at his watch. It was 3:24 a.m. “When did it start?”
“Eight minutes ago,” the blonde with the body said. From her voice, he knew she was Sam Rose.
“Frank?” he asked.
“Her pulse is weak and her blood pressure is low,” the medic said, administering oxygen.
Brie’s eyes fluttered. Nick knelt beside her, smiling. “Hey, kiddo. We’ll take care of you. Tell me about your friend.”
She gasped weakly, “I think they’re slowly killing him, Nick.” Tears fell. “Please help him. He’s one of us.”
He stared at her, lurking. His eyes widened; Brie had met one of the Highland warriors? He was her friend? His agents had been hoping to bring in a Master for a long, long time.
“She had an episode earlier,” Sam said tersely. “That was when she called us.”
Nick absorbed that. “What do you know about the Highlander?”
Sam Rose was good, he had to hand it to her. Her eyes didn’t even widen, not a drop. “I’m worried,” she said. “If this person is being tortured, Brie might go through this again when they start in on him.”
“She won’t make it,” the other blonde cried. “I’ve never seen her like this.”
“Take her to Five,” Nick said. Because the agency was covert, CDA had its own medical facilities known simply a Five. But as Brie was loaded onto a stretcher, he pulled Frank aside. “Can an extreme empathic reaction kill her?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is it a safer bet to keep her sedated until we can remove the source of the empathic reaction?” When Frank nodded, Nick said, “Do it.”
The Town & Country blonde said, “I’m staying with her.”
Nick seized her shoulder, staring as coldly as he could. It wasn’t hard to do; he was getting pissed. How much did these women know?
“Lady, you are not cleared to stay with her. You and your friend are coming with me, now, to my office.”
She stared at him, close to tears. “After we tell you what we know, I beg you to let me stay with her.”
“I’ll think about it.” He looked at the warrior, Sam; and because he didn’t like the look in her eyes, he read her mind. “You’re coming with me, but I’ll put all my agents in the field. If your friend is in the city, we’ll find him.”
Sam stared at him, clearly unhappy with his decision. He was aware she wanted to hunt. “Yeah, well, I hope you find him alive,” she mocked.
BRIE STRUGGLED TO SWIM THROUGH the thick, heavy darkness. She heard voices, but they seemed impossibly far away; still, she wanted to reach them. Some of the darkness shifted…lifted. Her mind flickered. She needed to think. There was something happening, something she had to do. She didn’t know where she was, but she sensed Tabby and Sam were nearby, and there was relief in the comprehension.
“Brie? It’s me, Tabby. Can you hear me?”
Tabby sounded closer now. Why was she so heavy, so groggy? Brie fought to swim to her cousin. Light began shining against her closed lids, and she somehow opened her eyes. Instantly, she blinked against the sterile white light of an office or a hospital