Free The Ninth Dominion (The Jared Kimberlain Novels) by Jon Land Page B

by qualities we alone share. Doomed to live apart in the shadow of society’s judgments of us. Doomed to grow in power that others don’t understand and thus fear. Accept that and beware of it.”
    “Beware of what, Peet?”
    “The higher we soar, Ferryman, the smaller we seem to those who cannot fly.”
    Librarian sat in the darkened room, gazing up at the camera mounted on the ceiling above him.
    “You disappoint me, Mr. Chalmers,” said a voice through an unseen speaker.
    Chalmers made sure his own speaker was facing the camera before responding. The cord connecting it to his throat dangled limply down to his lap.
    “It was … unavoidable.”
    “Really? Then I am to believe that Hedda’s escape was due to your negligence.”
    “My men should … have opened fire … earlier.”
    “You should have ordered them to.”
    Chalmers remained silent.
    “Do not play me for a fool, Mr. Chalmers.”
    “Do not play … me for one … either.”
    “I’m afraid you leave me no choice. There is, after all, the additional matter of the remainder of your operatives having not arrived at the island yet.”
    “Recalling … them has taken … longer than … expected.”
    “I’m losing my patience, Mr. Chalmers.”
    Chalmers’s hands tightened on the arms of his chair.
    “Your operatives are important to me. I need them. They are vital to my plan. You will send them to the island, Mr. Chalmers.”
    “Yes.”
    “And you will dispose of Hedda.”
    “Yes.”
    “Do not disappoint me again.”
    Chalmers stared into the camera and said nothing.

Chapter 9
    “ARE WE GOING to die?”
    The boy’s question shook her alert, and Hedda tried to sound sure when she answered him.
    “We’ve come too far for that.”
    “I’m scared,” he said as he tightened his pants belt. His leg was stiff and lame from the wound and ached with pain.
    “We’ll be safe soon. I promise.”
    Hedda made herself smile confidently and shook her head. Her mind spiraled backward, struggling to keep the last twenty-four hours clear.
    That was what it had been now, almost to the moment, since she and the boy had taken their plunge from the bridge.
    She had lost her hold on Christopher as they fell, then heard him hit the water an instant after her. He had already slipped below the surface when she reached him. He was unconscious yet trembling, evidence of shock. She knew the Kevlar shirt she had given him had prevented what would have been instantly fatal wounds, but depending on where the bullet had lodged in his leg it might not matter. She swam to the boy and tucked an arm under his throat. The water could not hide the scent of blood, both his and hers. Ignoring her own wound, she began to swim away. She supported the boy so his face rode even with the surface. As for herself, a breath every thirty seconds or so was all she required.
    With the breaths came glimpses of the activity occurring upon the bridge above. The gunmen struggled for sight of her first and then searched for a quick route down to the river bank. By the time they found it, Hedda was well downstream.
    Her own shoulder had begun to throb. Worse, she knew that Christopher Hanley’s blood was still flowing from his leg wound. Immediate action was required if he was to survive the night.
    He was still her responsibility, after all. In Hedda’s mind her assignment had not ended with the bizarre turn of events at the bridge. The plunge into the icy waters might have saved their lives, but it was only temporary. Librarian would know they were alive, she was alive, and respond accordingly. The thing Hedda had to do was seize the advantage the enemy’s present confusion provided.
    The enemy … her own people.
    Why? And why had they lied about the boy to begin with? Deerslayer had kidnapped him, and then she had been charged with getting him back. It made no sense!
    For the moment all that mattered was treating Christopher’s wound. Hedda gently dragged him up on shore into a covering