Serafina and the Virtual Man

CHAPTER Fourteen



If Adam had imagined that being shot at by an angry lover and a bunch of ruthless gangsters would make it easier to wish himself out of the game, he was doomed to disappointment.

From the moment he and JK burst butt naked from the hotel bedroom into the wide hallway full of stunned, armed men, he knew it was just going to be too much fun. He blessed his team of programmers for working even this unlikely scenario into the game, for he and JK really did have the element of surprise, which enabled him to get the first shots in, sending the hoods diving for whatever cover they could find behind pillars and flimsy, decorative tables.

JK, in the meantime, seized the machine gun of the nearest gangster, kneed him in the groin to make him release it, and then forward rolled toward the stairs through a hail of bullets aimed far too high to hit her. Adam, not unreasonably distracted by the sight of her deliciously naked, tumbling bottom, left it a shade too late to leap for the stairs and felt a burning sensation in his arm. Ignoring it, he jumped over the rail onto the sloping banister just in time to meet JK, whom he hoisted up behind him. As they careered down the wide, polished banister, they fired wildly at the ceiling, dropping chunks of wood and rubble and a phenomenal amount of dust on the heads of their enemies.

Inevitably, though, the gangsters had left a watchman in the lobby below, and amid the screams of the respectable patrons, Adam felt the jolt of JK twisting and firing behind her before she hit the floor. Adam landed with a thud, narrowly missing her. He rolled backward and came up shooting at the hoods now running down the stairs after them. A few fell. He aimed at the chandelier and, with what turned out to be pretty good timing, let rip a burst of fire that brought it crashing down on top of several of their pursuers.

JK let out a low, delighted laugh as she jumped to her feet beside him and hand in hand they bolted for the nearest door. It wouldn’t budge, but Adam recognised it. This was the carefully guarded door to the speakeasy. “Show your face,” he breathed, just as the blind moved. Since she was their star performer, the door opened immediately, and Adam burst in, punching the door thug in the jaw—which bloody hurt—before he and JK dived as one under the roulette table just in time to avoid a renewed hail of bullets.

There followed a short, hilarious game of hide-and-seek among the tables.

JK said breathlessly, “The cops are bound to come now and catch or kill the bad guys. Must be points for us in that.”

“So many I’ll get a really deadly mission next time.”

The shooting was deafening, as were the screams of the patrons trying to get away, and there was glass and debris and carnage everywhere. This, Adam thought happily, was what computer games were all about. Sheer escapism, exorcising aggression and secret desires for dangerous situations without any of the actual risks. Apart from the sluggishly bleeding, barely noticeable graze to his arm, neither of them was hit. And he couldn’t remember ever having quite so much fun in any game as he did bolting around that room, avoiding bullets and planning their escape. Of course, it all had an extra edge because they were totally naked throughout. When he dived behind an upended table where a young woman was already sheltering, she averted her eyes in even more horror. He grinned and winked at her, and by the time he scrambled out to rejoin JK closer to the back door, the woman was cramming a piece of paper into his hands and saying huskily, “Call me.”

Adam laughed aloud, then landed in a heap behind the bar with JK. The barman already had his hands up. “I’ll have a gin and lime,” Jilly told him and let loose another barrage at the thugs closing in.

The barman’s jaw dropped, but he rushed to obey with shaking hands, grabbing glasses and bottles and ducking with them below the level of the bar counter.

“Two, if you please, my good man,” Adam said cheerfully. “Hell, have one for yourself—you need it.”

The barman didn’t have to be told twice. In seconds, he came up with three glasses of pale green liquid. JK stopped shooting for long enough to grin and grab hers, and clink with both Adam and the barman.

Then the cops burst in through the door. “All right, nobody move!”

The barman said, “We can get out the back door. Come on.”

He crawled through first, just as someone started shooting again. JK rolled through, treating Adam to another close-up of her gorgeous bum, and then, without warning, it all vanished. No shooting, no speakeasy, no JK.

****



It was a good opportunity. The poltergeist was so focused on breaking through whatever barrier kept it from the room beyond that it barely noticed Sera or even Blair until he walked right through the ripple of air it was creating. His hair actually stood on end. Only then did the poltergeist back off, and by that time, Sera already had her psychic teeth in it, pushing and tearing it apart.

She’d got it. She could feel its energy waning, until, with a last-ditch gust of fury, it seemed to hurl itself sideways and into the main part of the room. Sera hung on to the invisible thread linking her to it, walked slowly forward after it. Vaguely, she was aware of Blair leaping from side to side, trying to keep it away from both the computer and the trigger point through which he couldn’t follow. And deeper in the room she could see Jilly jogging on the spot and dodging around as if hiding behind various things no one else could see, except in a curiously slow, almost disjointed way that bothered Sera, even through the effort of her concentration. Was Jilly under threat in Adam’s virtual world?

Even more weirdly, Jilly held her hands out as if holding an imaginary gun, which seemed a bizarre way to protect herself from all the stuff hurling straight at her, courtesy of the poltergeist. Without warning, she suddenly fell over, did an energetic forward roll and came up again holding her imaginary gun in a different direction.

What the f*ck?

But at least the poltergeist didn’t seem to be feeding off Jilly’s fear, for Sera could feel its energy streaming away. The whirling objects had less force; most of them were doing little more than vibrating on the ground. “Enough,” Sera told it. “Go. It’s time.”

And abruptly the connection between them broke, and she staggered back against Blair.

“Got the bastard,” she crowed weakly, just as Jilly rolled across the room and sprang to her feet, staring at her, wide-eyed, a smile of pure fun dying on her face.

“Sera? Blair!” For some reason, Jilly crossed her arms over her breasts, then blinked as if surprised by the sight of her own jacket sleeves. She gave a breath of laughter. “I’m out. Adam?” She whirled around. “Adam? Adam!”

She strode around the room, more panicked than Sera had seen her in years. “He’s not here! Where did he go?”

Sera went after her. There was no green light at the trigger point. “Jilly. The poltergeist’s gone. We dispersed it.”

Jilly stared at her. “It wasn’t Adam,” she said fiercely.

“No, I don’t think it was,” Sera agreed. “But they were connected. Adam killed Killearn. Maybe Killearn’s fury was what kept Adam’s spirit here. I don’t know. But it seemed as if the poltergeist sought him out here as it was dispersing. As if still determined to take Adam with it.”

Jilly dragged her hand through her hair and tugged hard. “No,” she said in clear distress. “No.”

Sera took her by the shoulders. “Jilly, he couldn’t stay here forever. They’ve both gone where they should, where all this stuff doesn’t matter. You have to let go.”

Sera’s heart almost broke at the expression in Jilly’s eyes, and yet it vanished almost at once. Jilly was used to life kicking her in the teeth.

“I know,” she said shakily. “It was just… I was having such bloody good fun.”

Sera took her arm and led her toward Blair and the door, speaking with deliberate practicality. “Suggest we tidy up in here and claim we cornered the poltergeist in the outer study. Since we don’t have Adam to doctor the camera recordings, can you get rid of the evidence of us breaking in?”

“Maybe. But he might have already done it.” Jilly walked briskly to collect her laptop and head out to the outer office. Her shoulders drooped.

Oh Jilly, trust you! All that long buildup of emotion and you give it to a computer program… Helplessly, Sera watched her right Dale’s computer chair and sit in it before opening her laptop. Blair hefted the big desk upright and replaced the fallen monitor in the correct position. Jilly stood up and plugged it in.

“It isn’t the end,” she said intensely. “Adam killed Killearn in self-defence because someone sent Killearn to kill him. And after Adam killed Killearn instead, someone else shot and killed Adam and covered it up with a false trail to Australia. And my money’s on Dale.”

“Why?” Sera asked. “They were friends.”

“But not so close since Petra came on the scene. And Petra had a bit of a crush on Adam, according to Roxy. Plus, even though the Ewans were stinking rich, they were living beyond their means. They needed money and wanted to retire. Splitting the profit from the new system with Adam would have meant waiting. This way, Dale just needs to launch and grab, maybe even sell while things are on a high.”

Sera nodded slowly. They’d already earned their fee, and she was more than happy to collect. But it wouldn’t stop her grassing her client up. She’d rather liked the virtual Genesis Adam. And besides, it mattered so much to Jilly.

“Okay. Find the evidence. We’ll give it to Alex McGowan. Jilly?”

Jilly glanced up, hard-eyed in the way that reminded Sera too much of childhood hurts.

Sera said, “About Adam, you know it’s for the best?”

Jilly nodded and dropped her gaze back to the computer.

Sera returned to clearing up the lab. Half an hour later, there was no trace there of the poltergeist’s depredations. Sera left a little realistic mess in the outer study, and closed the sliding door. Jilly doctored the rest of the camera evidence, switched off Dale’s computer, and quietly left.

Blair went off on his own—hunting, Sera assumed, and tried not to care that he was receiving bodily gratification from some other human, no doubt a young and attractive woman, since he liked those best. He wouldn’t hurt her, whoever she was; she wouldn’t even remember him or anything he did to her. Only Sera had those kinds of memories. Only Sera slept in his bed and made love with him. And there was no denying that he needed more blood than he could continuously take from Sera. So she lived with the downside in her relationship. Everyone did.

As Sera went downstairs, she heard Jilly sifting through stuff in the spare room. Looking for evidence. She really wasn’t going to leave this alone.

Flopping onto the sofa in the downstairs sitting room, Sera left a message on both Dale’s and Petra’s phones to say their problem was dealt with, but that Sera would wait at the house until they came home. It was nearly two o’clock in the morning, and Sera was knackered, so she stretched out on the sofa and closed her eyes.

She hoped the Founder had f*cked off for good. Why did he keep hanging around?

****



Raking through the chaotic mess of the spare bedroom once more, Jilly had no real idea what she was looking for. She just knew there had to be something they’d missed the last time, something that would prove what Dale had done to Adam.

Feverishly, starting at the door, she dug through it all, tossing the useless bits of rubbish aside one after the other and grabbing the next handful or armful. There had to be something, anything to give him away.

She knew Dale had betrayed his friend, paid someone to murder a fascinating, brilliant, funny man who could never ever be replaced. And now even his ghost had vanished, and she wanted to punch Dale’s face in for that too.

She shuffled forward on her knees into the tiny space she’d created and raked through a scattering of pillow feathers to a mattress spring. She flung that aside so hard it hit the wall behind her, and delved deeper, chucking things over her shoulders as she went. But she could no longer see the splintered, broken objects in her hands or anything in front of her at all. They were blurry with the tears she suddenly realised were streaming down her face and dripping onto her hands, onto the mess beneath.

“Oh Jesus.” Jilly gasped, threw herself back against the wall, on top of God knew what, clutching her face in both hands, and let the tears come because she couldn’t stop them. They flowed over her fingers and into her hair while her body shook with silent, heaving sobs.

It was a long time since she’d felt this desolate. If ever. Loneliness, emptiness crowded in on her, drowning the pointless anger. There was only despair and loss. Loss of a spirit that had made her laugh and live and love. And right now it didn’t matter a f*ck that none of that was real. It was real to Jilly, and she knew it had been real to Adam. On some level, Adam was real, and he’d been shut down like a machine, cut off, and killed. Again. How unspeakably tragic to be killed twice…

Shuddering, Jilly dug the heel of her hand into her eye, threw her head back against the wall, and heard it crack. She wanted to hurt herself just to break into the relentless pain of knowing it was over, that she’d never see his infectious, crooked smile again, never speak to him again or even message him again. Because he was dead. He really was dead.

Slowly, she dropped her soaking hands from her face. She’d get the bastard who did it; she would. But that wouldn’t bring Adam back to her…

Only Sera could do that, for a few moments at least.

Then he’d know she was still trying, that she wouldn’t forget about him or what had happened to him. Abruptly, Jilly stood up, took a deep, determined breath that wasn’t quite steady before she wiped her wet face on her shirt and went to fetch the photographs they’d found earlier. Then she ran downstairs and discovered Sera lying on the sitting room sofa, eyes closed. How could she sleep at a time like this?

“Sera?”

Sera’s eyes flew open, focused on the plastic bag full of broken photos clutched in Jilly’s arms.

“Can you reach him?” Jilly asked bluntly.

****



Sera looked exhausted. Jilly almost felt guilty for asking, but she couldn’t leave it there, and they’d never have a better chance of trying to reach Adam than here in the house where he’d died. Sera didn’t complain, just demanded coffee, and Jilly went off to rake in the Ewans’ kitchen.

When she came back with two huge designer cups full of strong coffee, Sera was sitting cross-legged on the sofa with Adam’s childhood photo in her hands, and the others, glass and wood shards and all, resting on her thighs. Her eyes were closed; her lips moved in silent plea.

Quietly, Jilly crossed the room and set down both cups. To her surprise, Sera reached up and took her hand, drawing her down on the sofa beside her. Jilly sat, staring at her friend in hope until Sera opened her eyes.

“Tell him I’m still looking,” Jilly blurted. “Tell him I won’t give up. Tell him I’ll remember.”

But Sera only squeezed her fingers and let her go. “I can’t, Jilly,” she said finally. “I can’t reach him. I’m sorry.”

Sera could reach most spirits. In fact, she tended to take it as a personal failure if she couldn’t, so Jilly tried to smile. The effort stopped her crumbling again. “It’s okay. Thanks for trying. It was just too sudden. I wanted to say good-bye.”

“You really liked him,” Sera observed.

Jilly nodded, fighting back the onrushing tears all over again. “First nonwanker in a long time,” she said with an effort at lightness.

“Plays a mean VR game?” Sera guessed.

“Well, he should do, since he writes them.” She swallowed convulsively, tried to explain without really explaining. After all, this was Sera. “I just felt—a connection. You know?”

Sera nodded, as though she did know. For the first time, Jilly really considered what connection lay between Sera and Blair, whom she’d once so thoroughly disapproved of. She wondered how much Sera would grieve now if someone stuck a stake in the vampire’s heart. She wondered if she would.

Stupid thoughts. Stupid emotions.

Jilly lay down on the other sofa and closed her eyes. Think and plan through the pain until you fall asleep. That was what she’d always done before…

It seemed only moments later that her eyes sprang open. Her heart leapt painfully in her breast.

“F*ck,” she said and stumbled off the sofa. She ran through the house, with sudden, definite purpose, making for the gallery steps. She was at the top before she heard Sera’s urgent voice calling after her.

“Jilly? What are you doing? Blair’s just told me the Ewans’ car is coming up the drive!”

“Stall them!” Jilly shouted over her shoulder and burst into the study. She keyed in the numbers to the lab pad, her heart throbbing like a rabbit’s. “Come on,” she muttered, waiting for the click before she tapped the rest of the numbers. Then the door slid open, and she was in.

“Shit,” she whispered, staring at the nearest computer. She’d been right. It was switched off. Adam’s program had gone with the power. Hastily, she hit the button, listening with half an ear for the arrival of the Ewans. Was that their car?

She threw herself into the computer chair, drumming her fingertips on the desk as the computer came back to life. Apart from anything else, if Dale had discovered it switched off, he might well have suspected they were in here.

The computer desktop came up. Jesus, how did she find the right files? The car engine outside switched off. Voices emerged. Dale’s and Petra’s.

Jilly clicked Recent and found three folders. Interesting—Dale had been in here between her visits. Had he seen Adam too? Why wouldn’t he tell them? Because he knew he was responsible for his partner’s death. This time, he deserved to be haunted. Hell, if he’d hired Killearn, he’d deserved that too and more.

“Sera?” came Dale’s voice.

F*ck, they were in. Fortunately, Sera didn’t seem to answer, and the footsteps went off into the bowels of the house in search of her.

Jilly opened all three folders, scanned the contents of each. Shit but Dale was a secretive bastard. All the files in every folder were identified only by numbers.

In the end, it was the pattern of the list she recognised. And only just in time. Sera’s voice shouted, “Jilly, are you finished up there?”

Jilly brought up the files, closed down the other two folders, and straightened. For an instant, she hesitated. She could step over the trigger point, see if he was back. She needed to. And if he was, she could confront Dale…

With a silly, unbelievable story and no evidence? Before Sera got paid?

Forcing herself, she backed toward the door, then, listening to the footsteps marching along the gallery, she hit the Close button and leapt toward the big desk just in time to be pretending to reattach the monitor to the computer when Dale strode into the room, Petra and Sera at his heels.

“Sorry,” Jilly said apologetically to the Ewans. “I wanted to get this completely cleaned up before you came home. Sera’ll have told you it made a bit of a mess.” She straightened and looked at Dale. “Do you want to check this lot’s still working? I’m afraid your printer’s mince. I don’t know about the laptop—it rattles a bit ominously.”

Shut up, Jilly, you’re talking too much…

Dale was giving the room a sharp once-over. Ignoring Jilly, he spoke directly to Sera. “You cornered it in here? This is where you destroyed it?”

Sera nodded. “We chased it up here from the sitting room. It was pretty violent, as you can see, but we managed to blast it in the end. It shouldn’t bother you anymore.”

“Please tell me it didn’t go into my lab? Through that door?”

“It tried,” Sera said, with cagey if literal truth. She shrugged. “Didn’t do it any good. Any reason it should have chosen this room for its last stand?”

“I couldn’t begin to guess,” Dale said tiredly. He rubbed his forehead. “If it’s really gone, that’s all I need to know.” He turned away, then glanced back at Sera. “Thank you.”

“No bother,” Sera said easily. “I’ll send you my invoice.” She and Jilly walked out of the room in front of Dale and Petra.

They collected their coats and bags, and Sera offered her hand to Dale. “Glad we could help, Mr. Ewan,” she said civilly. He took her hand, and on cue, Sera frowned as if a thought had struck her. “Just one thing. While I was struggling with it, the poltergeist seemed to be trying to implicate you in the death of your partner Genesis Adam.”

Sera’s other arm just brushed against Petra’s. Jilly knew what she was doing and blessed her for it. Dale was left with nothing to say except, “Of course I didn’t kill Adam.”

Sera’s gaze flickered apologetically to Petra, who said wryly, “Neither did I.”

Sera dropped Dale’s hand, grinning as if it was a great joke. “Poltergeists are notorious liars and not very bright. Appreciate your business. Good-bye, Mrs. Ewan.”

Jilly, unable to trust herself, opened the door and left ahead of Sera and Blair. Impatience ate into her bones, made her want to shout at Sera, Hurry up!

She got into the passenger seat of Sera’s car and waited while Sera waved and strolled over, opened the door, and got in beside her. Carefully, she fitted the key into the ignition before glancing up at Jilly.

“They’re telling the truth. It wasn’t them. Neither of them killed Adam.”

****



He imagined he was floating or maybe even lying on something soft. A cloud, maybe. Didn’t his mother tell him that was where angels lived? But f*ck, he was no angel. Maybe he was in the heaven he’d never really believed in. Which was good, wasn’t it? Better, at least, than the alternative.

Only he didn’t want to be there either. He wanted to be back in the game with JK, shooting gangsters by way of foreplay before retiring once more to bed with her. She was the sweetest lover he could remember, and he knew that wasn’t the game. JK was real. He’d intruded on her life, and she liked him well enough to be seduced. Although that probably was the game, he acknowledged ruefully. Despite her disappointment that they hadn’t had sex in the real world, he was pretty sure she wouldn’t have done it at all if she hadn’t known it was only VR. There was a lot of baggage to overcome there. Games were useful therapy.

And f*cking good fun. He smiled on his cloud, visions of JK writhing and passionate in his arms as he pushed deliciously in and out of her, JK hand in hand with him, running naked through the lobby and diving under the roulette table. Dancing with him in a flimsy, floaty dress; in a shorter, slightly coarser dress with a funny little hat, the smell of wine and cigarette smoke in his nostrils—but no, that was another game, after they’d blown up the bridge over the Seine…

Which game to play next? Perhaps he should just sleep first—it was so comfortable just floating, not having to worry or think…

Exodus, where are you? Are you back?

Annoying interference. He needed to sleep.

Adam, are you there? Answer me!

JK. Why wouldn’t she let him sleep? They’d play again after…

Have you really gone for good?

Gone? Gone where? Where could he go except into another game? Another game with her. But they were in the middle of stuff, stuff he really didn’t want to think about and yet had to. Dale and Petra and the man he’d killed. And JK wouldn’t leave it alone. He’d seen to that without realizing the danger he’d put her in. Stupid, stupid…

With a supreme effort, he forced himself awake, shooting past all the games and into the network in search of the test lab. And suddenly it was there. He was there, gazing straight at Dale.