Free Doc Sidhe by Aaron Allston Page A

statement: "— or my associates and I will be forced to defend ourselves."
    No answer. Then one of the gunmen dropped his weapon over the side of his table and raised his hands in the air. A moment later two others did the same.
    It was too late for the rest.
     

Chapter Seven
    The shriek rang in Gaby's ears and she sat up, disoriented. In the dimness, nothing looked familiar, not the nightstand beside the bed, not the curtains on the windows; where were her bookshelves? And who screamed?
    The door into the bedroom opened, spilling light over her, and Elaine hurried in, clutching her robe close. Blond, frowzy, busy Elaine; Gaby sighed her relief as she remembered where she was. Elaine's guest room, miles and state lines between her and all that craziness in the city.
    Elaine sat on the bed beside her and brushed Gaby's bangs out of her eyes. "You okay, honey?"
    "Yeah." Gaby shivered and tried to pull the blanket up around her shoulders. "I heard a noise. Like someone shouted."
    "That was you , poor thing. You must have been dreaming. You were shouting something about they're coming, get out of there. You must have been remembering, you know, them . This evening."
    "I suppose." Gaby frowned. The last faint tendrils of her dream were slipping away from her, but she didn't remember being fearful for herself. It was others she had worried about, others she couldn't remember now.
    It must have been Harris. Concern for him ate at her again. "Has there been any word—"
    "No, nothing. Still no answer at his apartment."
    "Damn."
    "Did you get anything figured out? Like why some old guy and his two creeps would . . . "
    "Kidnap me? No. It doesn't make any sense." She lay back to stare up at Elaine's sympathetic, weary face. "I don't think they wanted to rape me. I think they wanted to find something out from me. God knows what. I don't know anything. Anything a program manager knows, they could hire a consultant to find out, right?"
    "Well, you're safe here. We have a security system, Jim has his guns—"
    "I want to learn to shoot."
    Elaine looked startled. "You always hated guns."
    "Still do. Guess what I hate more."
    "Yeah. Okay, I'll tell Jim. He'll be glad to take you out to the range he uses."
    "Thanks, Lainie."
    Elaine hugged her, then rose and patted her hand. "You try to get some sleep. But if you can't, and you want to talk, knock on our door. Anytime. It's okay."
    "I'll do that."
    " 'Night, hon." Elaine left, shutting the door and closing out the hallway light, but Gaby was glad to see the faint glow around the edges of the door. Nice to know that light was only a few steps away, Elaine only a few steps beyond that.
    But if she didn't get good news from the police soon, she'd have to leave all of it. Deep inside, she knew the old man and his two thugs, including the one she'd described as wearing a Halloween mask when she knew that wasn't the truth, would come looking for her again.
    She knew because of the way the old man's face lit up when they caught her. Because of how happy he'd been to have her. He'd be back. She couldn't let Lainie and Jim get caught up in the old man's craziness. And she had to find Harris, make sure he was safe.
    The thought kept her awake as she lay alone in the dark.
    * * *
    Twelve men had appeared to attack them. Three surrendered unhurt. Four, including Harris' attackers, were alive but seriously injured. Five more were dead.
    Alastair set his submachine gun aside, clucked over the dead and did what he could to bandage the wounded; Jean-Pierre bound the hands of the living and took their weapons away.
    Doc gestured at the writhing flame atop the burner as if communicating with it; he frowned, clearly displeased, and closed his fist, a dramatic gesture. The fire snuffed out; the burner beneath continued to hiss until Doc walked up to twist the knob at its base.
    Harris dully looked over the scene of carnage.
    He'd never seen dead men before. Four of them lay in strange poses, blood slowly