"You really think she's dead?" Wrath muttered.
"From what I saw she was hit square in the chest. By the time I got back from killing that lesser, the two of them were gone, and so was her car. But… yeah, I don't think she survived."
Wrath looked at Butch, who had been totally silent since coming into the room. "Do you know how to find any of the females he used for sex and feeding?"
The cop shook his head. "Not a one. He kept that part of his life very private."
"So we can't track him that way. More good news. Is there any reason to think he'd go to that penthouse of his?"
"I stopped there on my way back," Butch said. "He wasn't in and I honestly don't think he'd land there. Not considering what he used the place for."
"And there's only two hours of daylight left." Wrath sat behind his Louis XVI desk, but braced his arms against the flimsy chair, like he was going to bolt upright at any moment.
Butch's phone went off, and he scrambled to answer the thing. "V? Oh… hey, baby. No… nothing yet. I will. I promise. Love you."
As the cop hung up, Wrath turned toward the fire in the fireplace and was quiet for a while, no doubt reviewing, as they all were, what kind of options they had. Which were, like… none. Vishous could be anywhere at this point, so if the brothers scattered to the four arms of the compass, they'd be doing the needle-in-the-haystack routine. Besides, it was pretty obvious V had killed the GPS chip. He did not want to be found.
Eventually Wrath said, "The pin's out of the grenade, gentlemen. Now it's just a question of what gets blown."
V picked the place for the car accident with care. He wanted to be close to their destination, but still far enough for discretion, and just when he got within range, a curve in the road offered itself up for use. Perfect. Putting his seat belt on, he stomped on the gas and braced himself. The Audi's engine roared, and its wheels spun faster and faster on the slick road. Pretty damn quick it ceased being a car, morphing into nothing but a fuckload of kinetic energy.
Instead of going with Route 22's sharp turn to the left, V headed straight for the tree line. Like a well-behaved child with no survival instincts, the car flew off the shoulder and held air for a split second.
The landing bounced V right off the driver's seat, knocking his head into the car's sunroof, then slamming him forward. Air bags exploded from the steering wheel and the dashboard and doors as the sedan pummeled through brush and saplings and…#p#分页标题#e#
The oak tree was immense. Big as a house. Just as sturdy.
The Audi's crash cage was all that saved V from annihilation as the front of the car crumpled into an accordion of metal and engine. The shock of impact snapped V's head on his neck, banging his face into his air bag again as a branch pierced through the windshield.
In the aftermath his ears rang like they had fire alarms going off in them, and his body did a self-scan for broken bits and pieces. Dazed, bleeding from cuts left by the branch, he undid his seat belt, forced his door open, and stumbled out of the car. As he took some deep breaths, he heard the hiss of the engine and the wheezing deflation of the air bags. Rain fell with steady, graceful disinterest, dripping off the trees into shallow puddles on the forest floor.
As soon as he could he went around the car to Jane.
The impact had thrown her forward, and her blood now marked the windshield and the dash and the seat. Which was what he'd wanted. He leaned in and released her belt, then picked her up as carefully as if she still lived, arranging her in his arms so she would have been comfortable. Before he started through the woods, he got his leather jacket and draped it over her to protect her from the cold weather.
Vishous began the walk as all walks began. He put one foot in front of another. Then repeated. Then repeated.
He tromped through the forest, getting wetter and wetter until he became as the trees were, just another object for water to fall off of. He took a roundabout way to their destination, until his arms and his back ached from carrying her.
Finally he came up to the entrance of a cave. He didn't bother checking to make sure he wasn't followed. He knew he was alone.
He walked into the earthy well, the sound of the rain receding as he continued farther over the dirt floor. He located from memory the catch in the rock wall and triggered the release. As a nine-foot slab of granite shifted over, he entered the hall that was revealed and approached a set of iron gates. He released the locking mechanism with his mind, and the barrier parted without a sound as the rock behind him replaced itself.
Inside, it was beyond pitch-black, the air denser in this underground place, as if it were crowded into the space. With a quick thought he flamed up some of the wall torches with his mind, then started down toward the Tomb's place of worship and ritual. On either side of the hall, on shelves that reached up some twenty feet, there were thousands of ceramic jars containing the hearts of lessers killed by the Brotherhood. He did not look up at them, as he usually did. He stared straight ahead as he carried his beloved forward, his wet boots leaving tracks on the glossy black marble floor.