Carry On Wayward Son(34)

He grabbed Simon and threw him against the far wall. Simon slammed into the plaster right side first, let out a low cry when impact blew out his shoulder joint. Again. Clutching his arm and fighting to stay upright, he watched his shotgun spin across the floor, out of reach, pretty sure it wouldn’t help him even if he had it.

Zach trapped him against the wall. “You are not protected by Claire’s appeal.” The nimbus of power around him nearly blinded Simon. “You can see it. My essence.” He leaned in, forcing Simon to close his eyes against the fierce white glow. “I have heard of you—those sensitive enough to see through the veil of illusion, to see the real under the mask.”

Fingers slid down his cheek, hot with that pure power. Simon swallowed, feeling helpless, utterly helpless for the first time since he was trapped under a broken Jeep in a blasted out village half a world away. The same shoulder that kept him from fighting his way out from under that Jeep throbbed with every breath.

He let out a gasp when Zach freed him, opened his eyes in time to see the other man clench his fist. Simon tensed, ready to defend himself—

Claire burst into the room, and with a wild cry, body slammed Zach. They crashed to the floor.

“Get out!” Her fist plowed into Zach’s gut. Simon flinched, and admired her technique. “Simon—get out of here! Get them out of the house!”

He felt like a coward for leaving her. But she seemed to be holding her own—she was beating the crap out of Zach.

It took him too long to get down the stairs, his shoulder screaming with every step. He stumbled into the living room, found Annie arguing, as usual, with Regina.

“Out. Now.” Annie glared at him, dialed it down to a scowl when her gaze reached his arm. “Claire’s giving you a window, so take it.”

“You did not leave her alone up there—”

He caught her arm before she could storm past him. “You’ll be about as much use to her as I am.” Annie bit her lip, pain shooting across her face. He slipped his arm around her waist, turned to Regina. “Now go,” he gentled his voice, managing a smile for Regina’s daughter. “I have friends waiting outside for you.”

Nodding, Regina took Hillary’s hand and moved to the door. Simon held his breath; the latch clicked, and she pulled the door open. Holding tight to her daughter’s hand, they stepped through the open doorway—and stumbled backward. Like they’d run into a wall.

“We can’t—” Regina wrapped her arms around Hillary. “It’s blocked.”

“Let me.” Simon eased Annie to the wall, then reached out his good hand to Hillary. “Want to go for a walk?”

She nodded; his fingers engulfed her small hand. Pulling her in tight against his side, he moved to the threshold, and stepped into the same thick, resistant wall. But like before, he kept going through, Hillary clinging to him.

Eric and Theresa ran up the sidewalk. Crouching down with Hillary, he smiled at her. “My friend Theresa will stay with you. I’m going to go back, get your mom and Annie.”

“Thank you, Simon.” She wrapped both arms around his neck, kissed his cheek. The simple act sent a surge of warmth through him. “I like you.” Patting his cheek, she turned and held out her hand to Theresa. “I remember you. Can you tell me more about the rats?”

Theresa’s surprised laughter followed him, fading as he stepped through the resistance. It let him go with greater reluctance, left him gasping for breath on the other side.

“Simon.” Regina touched his left arm.

“Okay. Your turn. We need to hurry—Claire can only distract him for so long.”

She gripped his hand, let him pull her through. It took the last of his fading strength. By the time he forced himself back inside, he knew he looked bad. Annie simply reinforced it.

“You look like hell.”

“Good to know. Let’s move—”

“I won’t go without Claire—”

“I won’t leave her to him, Annie.” He wrapped his good arm around her waist. “But she has all she can handle without worrying about you on top of it.”

“Yeah—rub it in. God, I feel useless.”

He hauled her up, started for the door. “Right there with you, sweetheart.”



*



“Zach—” Claire ducked as his arm flailed out. “Stop—damn it—”

His elbow found the corner of her mouth and snapped her head sideways. Hitting the floor she rolled away from him, the side of her face throbbing. She felt more than heard him behind her and flung her fist out. It hit something bony. They both gasped, too exhausted for any other reaction.