Now You See Him(80)

The light blinded her. Sudden and shocking, it blasted into their faces, and she stumbled backward, breaking free of Cardiff's grip as she put an arm up to her face.

"It's about time," Francey knew that voice. Faintly husky, like her own, with the charming lilt of Ireland overlying it. Enriched with the sound of murderous contempt. "You are a stupid bugger, Cardiff. Did you get lost along the way?"

Cardiff was fool enough not to be frightened. He'd underestimated her sister, Francey knew that immediately. Francey didn't. The moment she heard that voice a flood of memories came rushing back. All of them evil.

"I'm not a boy guide, Caitlin," he said stiffly. "I've brought you the woman. The rest is up to you."

"You're not interested in watching?" The voice was silken, insinuating. "I underestimated you, Cardiff. I thought your tastes were a bit more sophisticated."

Cardiff shrugged. "I want the money, Caitlin, and then I'm leaving. I've told you, there's no guarantee that the Cougar will stick to the plan. He's always been too independent, and I value my skin enough not to stick around."

Francey could see nothing but Cardiff in the brightness of the artificial light. "Boys," Caitlin Dugan said, "pay the man."

Francey saw it coming; Cardiff didn't. She opened her mouth to scream a warning, but it was too late. The gun was silent, wielded by unseen hands, a deadly, snicking sound beneath the rush of surf and wind. Cardiff's bland face creased in sudden surprise as the bullet entered his brain. "Damn," he said faintly. And died.

"Fool," Caitlin Dugan said. "Stupid bloody English bugger." And she stepped into the pool of light.

Except that she didn't step, she lurched. And with sudden sickening horror Francey understood Cardiff's amused remark that they no longer looked alike.

In the hours since she'd learned Caitlin wasn't dead, she hadn't had time to figure out how she'd managed to miss that huge, oncoming car. Obviously she hadn't. The vibrant, determined young Caitlin who'd dragged her across Manhattan in a vain effort to save Patrick was gone, replaced by a malevolent hag with a ruined face and body. Her body hunched to one side, her arm hung useless, her leg a withered stick. The left side of her face had been smashed, distorted in a cruel parody of healing, leaving the unmarked right side of her face an even greater contrast. If Caitlin had hated her legitimate half sister before, her reasons had increased a thousandfold.

"Sister dear," Caitlin hissed, hobbling over to her. "What a joy to welcome you to our humble encampment."

Francey had always been taller than Caitlin, but now she towered over Caitlin's hunched body. She tried to summon up pity, regret, some distant feeling of emotion for the warped soul that was her sister. But the smell of death was all around her as the woman looked up at her out of bright, malicious eyes that were eerily like her own, and it was all Francey could do not to shudder.

"Get it over with, Caitlin," she said flatly. "You've brought me here to kill me, so have done with it."

"I wouldn't think of doing anything so tame," she crooned. "I have great plans for you."

"I'm certain you do." She kept her voice cool as she clenched her bloodstained silk skirt in her fists. "I won't be much fun, I'm afraid. I'm squeamish, and I don't like pain. You won't have any trouble making me scream and cry. If you're going to think of all sorts of nasty things to inflict on me, why don't you get started? You heard Cardiff—Michael's coming. He's going to be quite a distraction for you."

Caitlin smiled. The teeth on the left side of her face were gone, increasing the ghastliness of her expression. "But, sister mine, that's part of the plan. I agree, it would be child's play to torture you. Instead, we're going to sit and have a nice sisterly conversation while we await your sweet Sir Galahad. And he'll come, I promise you. Not at dawn, as he'd planned. But alone, and very soon. You see, I made certain that he'd get word about you. The chain of information is so lengthy that by the time he gets word, he'll trust it implicitly. And he'll come for you. I can't wait."

She sounded like a child on Christmas morning. "What then?"

"Why, then you both die. Slowly, painfully. And I can start concentrating on more important things. My people are getting impatient with me. They follow me because they're afraid not to, but I know they don't understand my decisions. I don't bother to explain—I know what I'm doing. And getting rid of the two of you is imperative if we're to continue our life's work."

"Your noble calling," Francey said with contempt.

But Caitlin wasn't disturbed. "Hoping I'll jump the gun, dearie? Not on your life. I'm looking forward to your lover's expression when he shows up and sees you."