he squared off against her like they were gladiators preparing to strike at the emperor’s command. The lightning’s aura danced along their arms and fireflies swarmed around their heads, causing halo-like glows.
Gabriel? Mason’s mind reeled. His son and daughter, out in this tempest? He was about to call out when he heard something—a footfall behind him.
He turned, but not quickly enough. And glimpsed only an emerald-tipped stick of wood bearing down upon his skull.
Chapter 5
When he came to, it was still raining, but the thunder had dropped to a morose rumbling, like the last protests of an upset stomach after a spicy dinner.
Rubbing the back of his head, wet either from the rain or from his own blood he wasn’t sure, he glanced outside, where it was too dark to see anything. But he was reasonably sure no one was out there anymore.
He turned and stumbled out of the room, glancing first at Shelby’s bed, the bed he had tucked her into for so many nights, hoping that maybe he had just been sleepwalking, dreaming a horrible dream, and maybe he had hit his head. But the room was empty.
Rushing into the hall, he paused, unsure of which way to go—check on Lauren, or race outside? He lingered a moment too long, then headed down, turned into the dark family room, stumbled to the kitchen, heading for the sliding back doors—and froze.
The light over the sink was on.
Someone was standing there, just to the right, in the thick shadows between the refrigerator and the window. Someone all in black, leaning on a cane.
A flash of lightning, and Mason toppled back, hand over his eyes. He shook his head, hoping to dislodge the sunspots and see the room before receiving another club on the head. He leaned on the kitchen table and peered back into the shadows, which were now empty.
But then his attention caught on the objects on the table:
Two glasses, each half full. A can of Dad’s Root Beer. Open. And a business card, that same laminated black card, lying face-up between the glasses.
Mason took a seat, heavily.
He picked up the card.
From upstairs, Lauren was calling softly, then more urgently, asking if everything was all right.
He flipped the card over just as the wind died outside, the cicadas struck up their song and he knew—knew the clouds had vanished and the dark sky again revealed its innocent, speckled tapestry.
Again the image of his children in the rain, but now he saw the scene differently, saw Shelby’s energy fading, Gabriel overpowering her. Or was that only a dream?
What was going on?
He held up the card, turned it over once, twice. The sinewy indentations moved with the light and shadow, and seemed to glide along his fingers, tickling his skin in a not-so tender way.
The longer he stared, the more everything settled in place. The conclusion was inescapable. They—whoever Gabriel worked for—they had Shelby.
And they wanted him to know it.
Chapter 6
Avery Solomon, the head of Solstice Synergistic, Inc., its CEO and founder, ran a company with branch offices in sixteen countries, and with twin headquarters in Seattle and London—both of which Solomon called home. Dual-citizenship, two mansions in each location, and a devoted staff, kept purposely low, composed of only his most trusted personnel, personally chosen.
He was just a shade under fifty, but his fiery red hair coupled with his tanned complexion and satin look of one twenty years younger led to a certain aura of confidence and charm that made his face a natural magnet for the covers of at least four national magazines. Time and Forbes sought him out as much for his stance on global warming—radical even by Al Gore’s standards—as for his methods of combating it: namely through swift and penalizing legal injunctions slammed onto offending companies. The bigger the better. Solomon feared no one. He speared industry and politicians alike, hitting local governments and company executives, making his assaults fearsomely personal, attacking individual lifestyles and credibility, even prying into the lives of spouses and children. Solomon reserved a special mean streak for rogue scientists that dared speak out against the prevailing wisdom: that it was man and his actions alone that were harming the environment.
Four years ago he founded Solstice, solidifying a small private venture he had begun years earlier with unknown backers, rumored to be politicians, Hollywood players and others with very, very deep pockets.
Solomon was a man used to success. To a degree of control other men only dreamed about. And he was rarely