Chapter Forty-Five
Forty-Five
He hated the gallery, especially at night. The maze that filled the interior of the old house made him think of the inside of an Egyptian pyramid—a structure designed to be both trap and tomb.
But Trent was right, Vincent thought. He had to retrieve the weapon. The Alchemist would be furious if he found out it was missing, and the guy was already semi-insane. The problem of Luke Wells could be handled later.
He stood unmoving for a moment, collecting his nerve and heightening his talent.
Thanks to his psychic senses, his vision was keen enough to allow him to make out some of his surroundings, and he had one of the little locators Trent had designed to navigate the maze.
But neither provided much comfort. The sensation that the walls were closing in on him was getting more intense by the second.
Earlier, when he had followed Wells into the maze, he had been powered by rage-induced adrenaline and the thrill that came with the anticipation of the kill. The weapon made him invincible. The takedowns gave him a rush like no other.
During the training process, the Alchemist had explained that every time he fired the Kaleidoscope, the weapon adapted a little more closely to his aura. It was a tuning process. The better the tuning, the more energy he could generate through the gun.
But the failure to kill Wells tonight had shaken him. For the first time he wondered if the Alchemist had lied. What if the weapon was not aligning with his aura? What if it was damaging his energy field instead? Maybe that was what had happened to Orston and Taylor.
No. The Alchemist had assured him that he was much stronger than those two.
He would worry about that later. He had to focus on what he had come here to do. His first priority was to recover the weapon.
He clicked the locator and aimed it at the floor. The otherwise invisible green line glowed in the darkness, marking the path through the maze to the door of the old lab. As long as he could see it, he would not get lost.
He shivered. The unnerving sense of dread was growing more intense. He forced himself to follow the radiant green line.
Relief spiked briefly when he reached the wall. This was where he had found Wells. He had dropped the weapon somewhere in the vicinity. He didn’t spot it with his psychic vision, so he took a penlight out of a pocket and methodically searched the floor.
There was no sign of the weapon. Another wave of panic lanced through him. What if Wells had made it out of the maze with the gun?
He made himself search a little while longer, but reality was setting in. The weapon was gone. Wells must have found it. This was not good news. But Trent would know how to handle the situation. Trent always had a plan. Trent would take care of everything.
He reached the intersection where the route to the lab met the path the test subjects used to tour the installations. He hesitated, and then, unable to resist another look at his masterpiece, he hurried through the gallery.
He stopped when he reached Succubus and aimed the penlight at the sculpture. It was her. He had captured the monster in all her terrifying power. She had tried to destroy him but she had failed. Thanks to the weapon, he was the stronger one now. Soon he would conquer her. Control her.
He was enjoying the little rush of anticipation when he heard the slight movement in the shadows behind him. Startled, he almost dropped the penlight. He spun around to see who had followed him into the maze.
“Is that you, Wells?” he asked, trying to sound strong.
The figure stepped into the light. It wasn’t Wells.
“What are you doing here?” Vincent asked, bewildered.
He never got an answer. The paranormal strobe lights sparked, riveting him to the spot.
Somewhere outside the gallery a siren wailed.
He vaguely recognized it as the emergency evacuation signal.
Back at the start, Trent had insisted that it be installed.
But it was supposed to go off only if something went wrong in the lab.
Before he could begin to understand what was happening, he started the dark slide into unconsciousness. He had a flash of awareness and knew he was dying. Trent would not be able to fix things this time.
The darkness overwhelmed him.