Cliff’s Descent by Dianne Duvall

Chapter Twenty-Three

Emma stared, unseeing, at the television.

Something had happened.

One knee bobbed up and down much like Cliff’s did when he was agitated.

She didn’t know what had happened, just that it was bad.

Cliff hadn’t come by last night, which meant he’d had a psychotic break.

It always meant that now. And those breaks had been coming closer and closer together.

But this one was different. She didn’t know the details. She could only guess based on the little bit Todd had allowed Cynthia to wheedle out of him.

Bastien and Aidan had taken Cliff hunting last night, and whatever had happened had taken place outside the safety of network headquarters.

Cliff had never had a psychotic break outside network headquarters before.

She bit her lip.

Had he hurt someone? Someone who wasn’t a vampire? Had he…

Had he attacked a human?

Todd either didn’t know or wouldn’t say. But he’d admitted that Cliff had been unconscious when Bastien and Aidan brought him back to the network, his hands coated in blood.

He’d said Melanie had wept. And Bastien’s and Aidan’s eyes had been suspiciously moist.

Emma had been unable to concentrate for the rest of the day, tears of concern hovering just beneath the surface, so she’d left work early. She would’ve lingered in case Mr. Reordon allowed her to see Cliff. But Todd said Cliff had been sleeping heavily all day.

Cliff only did that when they sedated him. So at least he…

She closed her eyes.

At least he was still with them. He hadn’t asked them to kill him, to let him go.

Nevertheless, the fear and dread and sense of impending doom that had nearly suffocated her all day refused to relent.

Opening her eyes, she glanced at the front windows.

Darkness lay beyond them.

Normally she would have already showered, changed, and succumbed to a nap while she waited for Cliff to work out some of his aggression on a hunt and then come to her.

She glanced down. All she’d managed thus far tonight was to shower and change into a comfy T-shirt and yoga pants, too anxious to sleep despite the fatigue that rarely abandoned her.

She needed to see Cliff. Needed to know he was okay. Needed to feel his arms around her and hear him say he wasn’t ready to give up the fight despite whatever had happened.

A tall, dark figure abruptly appeared several feet away.

Yelping, she sprang to her feet.

Oh shit.

Seth, leader of the Immortal Guardians, towered over her. Standing roughly six feet eight inches tall with broad shoulders, a muscled form, and hair down to his hips, he’d been a frequent visitor at the network the past few years.

He held up his hands. “Forgive me for startling you,” he said, face grim. “You’re needed at the network.”

Fear filled her as she hurried toward him, not even pausing to slip on a pair of shoes.

As soon as she was within reach, he clasped her shoulder.

Darkness surrounded her, accompanied by a feeling of weightlessness.

Then light resumed, and she found herself standing in…

Well, she wasn’t sure. A shattered big-screen television and what was left of a sofa indicated it was someone’s residence. But the place had been completely trashed. Overturned furniture—splintered and barely recognizable as such—cluttered the place, forming disjointed mounds and ragged ridges. Fragments of glass caught the overhead light and glittered like diamonds amid the remains of a coffee table with a missing metal leg.

A crash split the air.

Emma jumped.

“Let me out!” someone bellowed, his voice deep and rough as though he’d been shouting for hours.

Gasping, she whirled around. Something sharp pricked her foot. A piece of glass perhaps. But Emma paid it no heed. Instead, she stared at the man who was doing his damnedest to beat his way out of the room with the missing metal leg from the coffee table.

Sweat glistened on the smooth brown skin of muscled arms left bare by his T-shirt. White powder—Sheetrock perhaps?—clung to the perspiration and speckled his dreadlocks.

Unaware of their presence, he continued to hammer away at the wall. “Let me out!” Crash. “Let me out!” Crash.

His violent strikes had succeeded in removing a large chunk of drywall beside the door. What looked like concrete lay beneath. But it, too, began to crack and crumble beneath his powerful blows. “Let me out!” he roared.

Tears filled her eyes. “Cliff?” she called softly. She’d never seen him like this before and wondered if she’d even be able to reach him.

Her pulse pounded in her ears as silence fell.

Cliff wheeled around so quickly he nearly toppled over. His brilliant amber eyes glowed with madness as he regarded them, brows lowered, face full of fury as his breath emerged in jagged gasps.

Emma’s heart broke. No recognition lit Cliff’s eyes as he glared at Seth.

Even when he shifted his gaze to meet hers, she wasn’t sure he really saw her.

“Calm him,” Seth said suddenly. “We need his help.” His hand still on Emma’s shoulder, Seth reached out with the other and grabbed Cliff.

Dizzying darkness swirled around her once more. Then they stood in Mr. Reordon’s swanky boardroom. But this time they weren’t alone.

At the opposite end, Mr. Reordon hovered over a laptop while he spoke rapidly into a cell phone. The immortal Zach was there, too, along with an older man in military fatigues.

Emma had seen Zach around network headquarters a few times in recent months. The gray-haired soldier seemed oddly familiar, like someone she’d seen on the news or something. Wasn’t he a general?

Yes! General Lane.

Seth released them and moved toward the others.

A thunk drew her gaze to the floor. Cliff had dropped the coffee table leg.

When she looked up, his gaze was fastened on her face. He said nothing, breath still coming in harsh gasps. He just stared at her as though he wasn’t sure she was really there.

Reaching out, she slipped her hand into his and twined their fingers together, willing him to know her, to find his way back to her.

He held on tight, the battle he waged palpable.

Her throat thickened.

“I have Scott Henderson on the line,” Mr. Reordon announced. “He’ll have special-ops teams en route in two minutes. My own team is assembling in the hangar.”

“Excellent,” Seth said.

General Lane cast Cliff a wary look before addressing Seth. “My team is on standby if you need them.”

“Thank you.” Seth returned and stood nearly nose-to-nose with Cliff, demanding his attention. “Bastien, Melanie, and the others are being held in a military facility defended by mercenaries.”

Emma tensed. Oh shit.

“We’re about to descend upon it en force. General Lane believes the alarm will trigger fail-safes or booby traps installed in the base to prevent anyone who succeeds in infiltrating it from leaving alive. I need you to help us pinpoint those fail-safes before we trigger them so we won’t lose anyone.”

Her stomach sank.

A muscle twitched in Cliff’s tight jaw before he issued a nod. “I won’t let you down.”

Absolute terror filled her. As soon as Seth turned away, she tugged Cliff over to a corner. Releasing his hand, she cupped his face in both hands and met his glowing gaze, relieved to find it less wild and more lucid. “Honey,” she whispered urgently, “I don’t know what’s happening, but—”

“Gershom took them,” he said, his voice retaining a hint of the roughness that had rendered it unrecognizable earlier. “He captured them all. Bastien, Melanie, Aidan, and every other immortal stationed in North Carolina. He even took Seth’s daughter and granddaughter.”

Shock stole her breath. “What? How?”

“I don’t know. I can’t…” His face tight with frustration, he reached up and fisted a hand in his hair. “I can’t think straight today.”

Releasing him, she gently took both his hands in hers to keep him from pulling his dreadlocks.

“I think I had a break earlier,” he said. “I blacked out. And when I woke up, I was locked in my apartment and everything was trashed.” He shook his head. “There were so many voices. Not just the ones in my head telling me to kill everyone…”

Her blood chilled.

“But others. It was the medical staff in the infirmary. When Gershom captured the immortals, he also injured all of their Seconds. So badly they suffered brain damage. I heard Seth tell Linda that Bastien and the others had been taken. I wanted to help. I wanted to help find them. But no one would let me out. They wouldn’t listen. They wouldn’t let me out. And…” He gripped her hands so tightly it almost hurt. “I-I-I think I lost it. Then you and Seth were there.”

Grim-faced Immortal Guardians decked out in black and armed for war began to fill the boardroom, but Emma kept her gaze on Cliff. “Honey, I know you want to help, but—”

“I have to help them,” he told her earnestly.

“No. You don’t.” It sounded like he’d already had two psychotic breaks today, another terrifying first. If he went into battle in his current state of mind—

“Yes, I do,” he insisted.

And something in his voice made her fall quiet.

His Adam’s apple rose and fell with a hard swallow. Moisture filled his amber eyes. “I fucked up,” he choked out.

She stared up at him. “What?”

Again he swallowed. “Last night I nearly killed one of the missing female immortals Seth has been searching for.”

For a moment she couldn’t breathe. It was what he had always feared, that he would harm an innocent. “Cliff—”

“I thought she was a vampire. A male vampire like the others she was hunting with,” he said, his tone one of desperation and despair. “She had her hair tucked up under a hat and…”

He shook his head. “Seth tried to make me forget it. He tried to make me think I’d helped. But I’m so fucked up in the head now that it… didn’t take or… I don’t know. I still remember some of it.”

Emma sensed the sidelong glances the Immortal Guardians slid their way but ignored them.

“I cut her, Emma.” A tear spilled down his cheek. “Her face. Her arms. I cut her. And I would’ve killed her if Bastien hadn’t stopped me.”

“Cliff,” she forced out, blinking back tears. What could she say to him? “Honey, you thought she was a vampire.”

“If I’d been lucid, I would’ve known she wasn’t.” He shook his head once more, his beautiful face full of anguish. “I can’t be like this anymore, Emma. I can’t hurt innocents. The whole reason I came here was so I wouldn’t hurt innocents.”

Panic screamed through her. This couldn’t be it. She couldn’t lose him. Not yet. She wasn’t ready. She would never be ready.

As if mocking her, she heard Seth ask, “Are we ready?”

“Yeah,” Mr. Reordon responded.

Cliff released her hands and started to turn away.

Her heart shattering, Emma caught his arm, threw her own around him, and drew him close for a last desperate kiss. “I love you.”

His expression softened a little as he gently disengaged her grip and cupped her face. “I love you, too.” He smoothed his thumbs across her cheeks in a last caress. “Thank you. For everything.”

Biting her lip to hold back a sob, she watched him move away to stand with the Immortal Guardians.

“Everyone grab a shoulder,” Seth instructed, his skin now bearing a peculiar glow. “We strike fast and we strike hard.”

A unanimous battle cry filled the room.

Cliff’s eyes met hers through the crowd.

Then everyone vanished.

Silence fell.

Tears blurred her vision, then spilled over her lashes.

Emma sank to her knees on the floor.

Cliff was gone.

And she knew in her heart she would never see him again.

One second Cliff was holding Emma’s tear-filled gaze. The next he stood shoulder to shoulder with a hell of a lot of Immortal Guardians in an airplane hangar. Beyond their grouping, dozens of human soldiers sporting black fatigues, helmets, bulletproof vests, and a shitload of weaponry faced them. Tanks and other large military vehicles filled the space behind them.

Was this it?

When he let go of the shoulder in front of him, the immortal—one he’d never seen before—murmured over his shoulder, “Not yet.”

Cliff had just enough time to grab the guy’s shoulder again before Seth said, “Here we go.”

Darkness and that dizzying sensation teleportation generated struck. Then fresh air filled Cliff’s nose as a breeze ruffled his hair. Massive trees rose up around them. A large base stretched in front of them. And every immortal, human, and military vehicle had made the jump.

Cliff hadn’t even known teleportation on that scale was possible.

Seconds later, Seth teleported them again. Or rather he teleported David, the other Immortal Guardians, and Cliff to a wide hallway inside the building.

Half a dozen guards manning a checkpoint at the end of the hallway gaped at them.

The immortals surged forward, taking out the guards before they could sound an alarm.

Cliff followed close on their heels, unsure of his role. He’d been so focused on Emma that he’d missed whatever instructions Seth had given the others. And the last thing he wanted to do was to hinder their efforts to find Bastien, Melanie, and the rest.

Gunfire erupted outside.

Inside, the Immortal Guardians plowed through another checkpoint. More guards fell beneath the onslaught. The metallic scent of blood filled the air.

The voices in Cliff’s head bellowed for action. But he fought them, determined not to fuck this up, determined to right the egregious wrong he’d committed the previous night.

His last act would not be that of a monster.

An alarm blared suddenly. Several grunts reached Cliff’s ears. The bodies in front of him halted abruptly.

Zach cursed. “The fail-safes have been triggered.”

“So we bypass them,” Jared said.

But no one seemed to move.

Wait. Fail-safes?

Cliff shouldered his way through the immortals until he stood beside Seth. A couple of immortals yanked blades out of their chests. More blades, which looked like five- or six-inch daggers without hilts—littered the floor.

This was why Seth had wanted him join them. To thwart the fail-safes.

Cliff studied the floor tiles carefully, then the walls of the hallway. Who would’ve thought all those years of playing video games that required you to run gauntlets riddled with booby traps might someday come in handy? “I don’t see anything in the floor that looks pressure sensitive, so there must be motion-activated sensors in the walls that trip them.”

He darted forward at preternatural speed. Pain pierced him when two blades impaled him. Grunting, he stopped and yanked them out. Yep. They were definitely motion activated. But… “These weren’t designed to stop humans. They were designed to stop us, or at least to slow us down.”

“How do you know?” Seth asked.

“Watch.” Hoping like hell he was right, Cliff walked up the hallway at ordinary human speed.

Triumph filled him when no more blades struck him.

“Shit,” Zach murmured behind him. “They are for us.”

“Gershom must have had them modified,” Seth agreed.

In the next instant, Seth’s voice filled Cliff’s head, pushing the gruesome ones aside as he addressed the group telepathically. We’re going to teleport ahead.Follow as quickly as you can at mortal speed, but leave every hallway guarded and search every room. We’re going after Gershom.

They nodded.

Gripping David’s shoulder, Seth teleported to Cliff’s side. He caught and held Cliff’s gaze. Guide them.

Cliff nodded. I’ll get them through safely, he vowed, hoping Seth could hear him over the clamor in his head. You won’t lose a single immortal tonight.

Seth looked at something behind Cliff, then teleported away with David.

The other Immortal Guardians strode toward Cliff at a normal pace.

Cliff’s nerves jangled. He didn’t doubt that every single one of them knew he was a vampire. They might have even overheard him confessing to Emma that he’d nearly killed Liora. And they were supposed to follow him?

The big guy in the lead was one of the immortals who had been impaled with a fail-safe dagger. He caught and held his gaze. “You’re Cliff, the vampire.”

“Yes.” The voices in his head surged, balking at being the object of so many piercing stares.

“I’m Mattheus. It’s an honor to meet you.”

The greeting stunned him. “It’s an honor to meet you, too.” He looked at the others. “All of you. But time is short. Seth has tasked me with getting you through the fail-safes, so if you’ll follow me at a distance—”

Boots clomped beneath the wonk wonk wonk of the alarm.

Cliff whirled around just as three soldiers swung around a corner up ahead.

Swearing, the soldiers opened fire.

Cliff shot toward them. Blades flew from the walls, slicing his flesh, two embedding themselves in his side. Bullets peppered him.

Growling, he dove at the soldiers and slew them all.

Pain inundated him.

Gritting his teeth, he turned toward the immortals and motioned them forward. “Move forward at mortal speed.” He drew the blades out and dropped them to the floor.

Mattheus was the first to reach him. “Let me go through the next one.”

“No. I can guide you through safely.” Three doors opened onto the hallway. Cliff nodded to them. “We should check those so we’ll know if the rooms have fail-safes, too.” It only took seconds, and none did.

“Okay. Follow me.” Cliff headed up the hallway.

Behind him, Mattheus ordered two immortals to remain behind and take out any guards they encountered.

At the next intersection, Cliff called a halt. This was taking too long. He needed to find the damn sensors so they could pick up the pace.

Guards at the far end opened fire but only managed to hit Cliff twice before an immortal teleported behind them and snapped their necks.

Cliff darted forward with enhanced speed. Pain struck. He jerked to a halt. Something whizzed past his front, missing him by a hair’s breadth.

He looked down. What looked like a tranquilizer dart—much larger than the compact ones the network had developed—stuck out of his shoulder.

He plucked it out.

Mattheus and the others caught up to him.

“What is it?” Mattheus asked.

A slight lethargy drew Cliff’s notice. He shook his head. “I think it’s the tranquilizer.”

“You think?”

He nodded. “The virus fuels me with so much energy and aggression now that one dose hardly affects me.” He pointed at the hallway at the far end of this one. “Don’t go down that without me doing it first.”

He returned to the primary corridor while Mattheus again assigned men to search the rooms.

“I can see the sensors now,” Cliff announced with relief. They were ingenious, blending seamlessly with the rest of the wall. But now that he knew about where they should be situated and what to look for, he could spy them. “Watch carefully.” After backing up a few steps, he raced forward at preternatural speed, angling toward one side, and—just before he reached the first sensor—jumped up. His right foot hit the wall a foot above the sensor as his body canted sideways. His left foot hit the wall yards away above another. His right hit the wall again and pushed off. Then he landed on the floor at the next intersection, having triggered not one fail-safe.

Yes!

Bullets plowed into him.

Snarling, Cliff swung around to face the soldiers firing at him from the end of the long corridor.

“Rafe,” Mattheus called.

The teleporting immortal appeared behind the humans and took them out.

A river of black flowed up the wall behind Cliff, following his exact path.

Cliff didn’t wait for them. He entered the adjacent hallway. Saw the same sensors. Showed them the path to take. Did the same with the next hallway. When he reached the next, a quick scan revealed no motion sensors. He checked the floor. Nothing. Had they thought the immortals wouldn’t get this far?

He shot toward the opposite end.

Pain lacerated his arms.

Skidding to a halt, he took in the new gashes and the blades that had carved them.

Damn it. What had he missed?

He saw no sensors in the walls. Nothing on the floor.

He looked up. There. “The sensors are in the ceiling on this one.” Sticking close to the wall, he darted forward again and made it safely to the end. “Hug the walls and you’ll get through.” A burning began at the site of the wounds, as if the blades had been coated with cayenne pepper. But the ground began to tremble beneath his feet, a rumble accompanying it, reminding him they needed to hurry.

Wiping it from his mind, he lunged forward.

And so it went. Cliff took the lead in every hallway, racking up wounds while he found routes of safe passage for the others. They could have navigated the hallways at mortal speed, but time was tight. The roar of gunfire filled the air constantly. And they couldn’t afford to give any mercenaries a chance to flee.

The base was big and boasted many corridors, almost every one of which sported fail-safe measures of one kind or another. Every blade that cut or impaled Cliff, every bullet that pierced him, seemed to clear his head more. The pain that buffeted him intensified by the second. But he kept pushing forward, kept clearing paths, showing the immortals how to remain unscathed, hoping every life he saved would redeem him for those he’d taken. And those he had almost taken.

Mattheus tried to stop him, tried to take the lead to spare him. “We can take more damage than you, damn it.”

But Cliff shook his head and continued onward. “It has to be me.”

“Seth wouldn’t want you to—”

“It has to be me,” Cliff repeated resolutely. Because this had to end. Tonight.

He had lost his battle with the madness. But he would win the war. He’d let these fail-safes bleed the monster right out of him and deny it dominion. Instead of killing innocents and having to be put down like a rabid dog, he would sacrifice himself for others. It was the closest thing to a heroic death he could hope for.

So he ran the gauntlet. Again. And again. And again.

And as he did, he stopped seeing the guards who shot him.

Instead he saw Emma’s beautiful face.

He stopped hearing the monster inside him howl its fury over being thwarted.

And instead heard Emma’s off-key singing. The musical sound of her laughter. Her gasps of ecstasy. And the affection that laced her voice as she told him she loved him.

He stopped feeling the cuts, the gashes, and the blades sinking deep into his flesh.

And felt her lips brush his instead.

Too late, he noticed something off about the floor in front of him. The tile beneath his foot sank a millimeter. The wall beside him exploded. Fire scorched him. Agony assailed him as the blast swept him off his feet. So much pain battered him that he couldn’t make a sound as he flew through the air, then hit the floor, skidded across it, and slammed into something hard.

A crack sounded. More pain ricocheted through his head.

All strength left him as he lay there, stunned into immobility.

Blood rattled in his lungs as he struggled to draw breath.

Blurring, dark forms swarmed forward and crouched around him.

His heart strove to beat as a face appeared before him.

Not that of the Immortal Guardian bending over him. But Emma’s.

Instead of large fingers searching for a pulse in his neck, he felt Emma’s delicate fingers caress his face.

His lips turning up in a faint smile, Cliff surrendered to oblivion.