"Hope? What do you--?"
Jaz followed my gaze. A small noise. An odd noise. Like a tiny chirp of fear. He dropped me and ran for the railing.
"Son--!"
The word cut off with a strangled cry. He ran back to the car, pushed me aside, clawed at the door, finally getting it open.
Where is she, you son of a bitch?
Karl. I swore I could hear his voice. Impossible from thirty feet below, but it was as clear as if he was beside me.
I walked to the railing. Seemed to float, pulled along by the tethers of chaos.
There, on the street below, Karl had Sonny on the ground, one knee on his back, hand wrapped in his hair, head pulled back so far that with the barest tug, his neck would snap.
Karl slammed Sonny's face into the pavement.
Where is she?
I opened my mouth to shout. Then I saw Sonny's hand, sliding from under his jacket. Karl didn't notice, too focused on his task, the chaos waves even from this distance so sharp and hard they stopped the breath in my throat. Sonny's hand slid out. His gun in that hand.
"Karl!" I screamed.
Jaz shoved me aside. He aimed his gun. It was too far. Too dangerous. He let out a strangled cry and jumped onto the railing, as if ready to leap off it.
A growl. A shot. A snap.
The last somehow seemed loudest, though I heard it only in my head. Heard it. Felt it. Saw it. The whites of Sonny's eyes, rolling as his neck snapped. His face going slack. Head falling to the pavement.
HOPE
DEATH WISH
"No." The word was barely a whisper. Jaz tottered on the railing. One lunge and I could have pushed him off. He toppled backward, half falling, half stepping down.
"No."
He collapsed where he was and sat there, clutching the railing bars, Sonny's name on every breath. His grief washed over me, so strong it blocked the death and held me as tight as any binding spell, unable to move.
I looked at the gun on the ground, dropped beside Jaz. I looked back into the parking garage.
"Don't," he rasped.
He still sat there, clutching the bars, face pressed to them, watching his brother's body below.
I took a step back.
"They're coming." He rubbed his hands over his face, swiping at the tears. "Don't leave me here." He picked up the gun by the barrel and held it out. "Finish it, Hope."
"You--you want me to--"
"I killed Paige. Killed Guy. Killed Bianca. Helped kill Rodriguez and Max and Tony. You want to do this."
I stared at the gun.
"And if revenge isn't enough..." He met my gaze. "Maybe pity is. I want to go with Sonny. Don't let the Cabal take me. Please."
I took the gun. Wrapped my fingers around the stock.
"Through the mouth. Or the back of the head. That's the quickest." A tiny, tired smile. "Maybe not the most chaotic, but if you get something from this--" His eyes lifted to mine. "Take what you can, Hope. My last gift to you."
If he wanted to die, all the more reason to say no. Punish him. Turn him over to the Cabal. Make him stand trial. Let them execute him. But standing here, looking into his face, I still saw Jaz, and I still felt something. Maybe only pity, but it was enough.
He opened his mouth. I put the gun in.
"Step away from him now!"
I jumped so fast the gun barrel slammed against the roof of Jaz's mouth. Two men in tactical uniforms approached from my left. Two more from my right. All with guns trained on me.
"You have five seconds to step away from him!" one barked.
Terror filled Jaz's eyes, pleading with me to pull the trigger. For a second, the chaos swirling around me was too much and I stood there, dazed. Then I moved my finger.
"One second!"
A dark shape smashed through the two men on my left, knocking them aside like bowling pins. I saw Karl's face. Saw his terror, felt it, as sharp as Jaz's. He tackled me. I crashed down under him. Heard a shot. Heard him grunt in pain.
The tactical team rushed in, stepping over us to get to Jaz. When my head stopped spinning from the chaos, I realized I was still on the ground, Karl stretched over me, not moving.
I remembered the shot. Felt the weight of him, pinning me down. And then, a tiny whimper, bubbling up from my throat.
"Don't move."
His fingers gripped my shoulder, mouth moving to my ear.
"Wait."
I let out the breath I'd been holding, then found myself flat on the pavement, lungs compressed by his weight, gasping--
"Sorry."
He lifted up, giving me breathing room. Then he slid off me, his gaze fixed over my shoulder, watching the tactical team, as if expecting our first sudden move would bring a gun barrel swinging our way. But they had Jaz cuffed now. Cuffed and gagged as he writhed and struggled, eyes blazing. Then he saw me and went still.
Our gazes locked.
He jerked his head so fast the gag slipped. His gaze swung to Karl, catching his attention, making sure he had it, then turning to me.
"I'll come back for you," he mouthed.
With a snarl, Karl was on his feet. Two officers lifted their guns. I pulled him back down beside me.
"He wanted that," I said. "He wanted you to kill him."
I felt the chaos swirl from Karl as they took Jaz away. Not jealousy but fear.
They can't hold him, Karl thought. He'll escape. He will come for her. She'll never be--
He cut the thought short. His arm slid around my back and he pulled me onto his lap and we sat there, watching them take Jaz away.
"Why didn't they let me kill him?" I whispered. "Do they want to put him on trial? Make him stand judgment?" I looked quickly at Karl. "They don't understand. He can become anyone."
"They know."
"That's why--" I swallowed. "They were under orders to bring them in alive."
I shivered and he rubbed my arms, pulling me against him, sitting on the cold pavement, leaning against some stranger's car--
"Paige." The name burbled from my throat and I scrambled up from Karl's lap. "Oh, God. You don't know. They don't know." I looked up into his face. "She's dead, Karl. Jaz had me lure her in and I thought she'd bring backup, but she didn't and he--"
"Hope?"
A soft contralto voice echoed through the parking garage. I turned and my knees gave way. Karl caught me.
"It's okay," he whispered. "She's okay."
I watched Paige walk toward me, her face tight with worry and guilt, and I knew then that I was dreaming. Still drugged and lying in the back of that car, lost in my thoughts. In my dreams.
"I'm so sorry, Hope," she said. "I'm so, so sorry."
"It wasn't her idea."
Another voice. I looked over Paige's shoulder to see Lucas.
"It was Benicio's plan," Karl said, a growl underscoring his words. "If I'd known--"
"But he didn't. Yes, it was my father's idea, but I agreed with it and I talked Paige into it." Lucas stopped beside me. "We couldn't see any other way, Hope. It was a cruel ruse and I sincerely apologize."
"We had to stop them," Paige said.
I shook my head. "No. I saw you. The hole--That was real. You were dead."
"A glamour spell," Lucas said. "Cast on a Cabal prisoner awaiting execution for murdering her parents. My father--" He inhaled. "We offered her a deal. If she went along with it, and it succeeded, she'd be granted a pardon. If it didn't..." He let the breath out and, in that second, seemed to age a decade. "Then the writ of execution was carried out."
I looked from him to Paige. To sacrifice a life--even to stop a killer--would have taken a lot of soul searching and, from their expressions, the decision still didn't rest easy. For most people, the choice would be simple--the woman had been condemned to die so her death might as well serve some higher purpose. But Paige and Lucas weren't most people.
"You're right," I said. "It was the best way to get to them. The only way probably. It was fair. She'd earned her death a
nd you gave her a chance to beat it."
Neither spoke and I could tell, as sincere as my words were, that they didn't really help.
"Speaking of executions," Karl said. "I trust Jasper Haig is going to be taking that woman's cell, and her slot on the schedule."
Lucas pushed his glasses up and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"You know Benicio's plans, Karl," Paige said. "Lucas argued strenuously against them, and he'll continue to argue--"
"You can't let him live. The man can impersonate his jailer. His lawyer. His doctor, for God's sake. If he comes into contact with any person--"
"I don't think it's that simple, Karl, and we will take every precaution and security measure--"
"He's already pissed on all your security measures! He got into your father's house. Shot his bodyguard. Killed your brothers--"
"Because we didn't know what we were dealing with."
"Do you really think it's going to matter? He's an accomplished thief who can steal any identity. He will escape. And when he does, the first place he's going is--" He glanced back at me and stopped.
"Paige is right," Lucas said. "I will fight this, Karl. I could not agree with you more on every point you've made. Jasper Haig should be treated as a criminal, not as a research subject." His voice dropped. "But getting my father to agree, even under the circumstances, may be beyond even my influence."
AND, FOR NOW, it was.
Lucas argued. Paige argued. I argued. Karl threatened. Benicio would not budge.
All this had begun with one woman's paranoid delusions, convincing her sons that they had to spend their lives running because, if they stopped, the Cabal would pounce on them and they'd live out their days as laboratory rats. In trying to escape that fate, Jaz found himself living it. For now...
Would he stay locked up? Karl didn't believe it. Neither did I. Jaz would never throw up his hands and say "guess you got me." While he could draw breath, he'd be plotting his escape and his revenge. Karl had killed his brother. He'd never forget that.
Lucas had promised to keep us updated on his situation and we'd continue fighting for his execution. For now, though, that had to wait, and I had to concentrate on getting back to the life I thought I'd lost. My job, my family, my home. It was all waiting for me. And Karl. Most of all, Karl.
Hours later, Karl and I stood outside Cortez Cabal headquarters, staring up at the morning sun.
"Another sunny day," Karl said.
"I'm tired of sunny."
"I hear Philly's expecting a snowstorm tonight."
"Good. We'll be just in time."
His hand cupped mine. "Are you sure? You still have a few days. We can get away. I'll take you anyplace you want to go."
"I want to go home." I looked up at him. "I want to go visit with my mother and tell her you're moving to Philly. I want to tour overpriced condos that displaced impoverished seniors, and needle you about it mercilessly. Then I want to take you home, hole up for the storm, then go back to work chasing alien abduction stories and Hell Spawn sightings."
"Are you sure?"
I lifted onto my tiptoes and kissed his chin. "Absolutely."
LUCAS
21
I WATCHED JASPER through the one-way glass. He lay on a king-size bed, eyes glued to a handheld video game. MTV flashed on the plasma screen affixed to the wall. A take-out pizza box rested by his elbow.
This was how the Cortez Cabal treated the man who'd killed two of its top executives and attempted to kill its CEO. This was how my father treated the man who'd murdered two of his sons and plotted to kill the rest of his family.
I knew the room was actually a jail cell. A life sentence with no chance of parole, kept alive only because he could prove useful. But it wasn't enough. For his crimes, and for the threat he posed, I wanted him dead.
My father had decreed mercy. I'd argued for capital punishment. Did I ever think I'd see that day?
I had weighed the factors and decided Jasper Haig should not be allowed to live. How often had my father made that very decision and I'd condemned him for it?
Only twenty-four hours ago, I hadn't hesitated to condemn another criminal. When my father had suggested sending a convicted murderer to meet Hope in Paige's place, I'd agreed, knowing I was sending that woman to an almost certain death.
I'd weighed the factors, analyzed the risks and made my decision. Whatever I felt about the outcome, I still believed we'd made the right choice.
"Sir?"
Griffin gestured toward the door, impatient for me to get this meeting over with so he could return to my father's side. I lifted a finger and checked my cell phone. Three text and two voice messages. None of them from Paige.
She was back at the hotel, working. Work she could have done from any office in the building. But since yesterday--since I'd agreed with my father's plan--there'd been a distance between us that I knew I wasn't imagining.
I'd text messaged her an hour ago, asking her to join me for lunch. No answer yet.
I closed the phone and motioned for the guard to open Jasper's cell.
Jasper sat up, legs swinging over the bedside. Two guards darted past me, flanking him and motioning for him to stay seated. As he settled back onto the bed, one fingered his gun, the other readied his powers.
Jasper's lips curved, amused by the thought that he presented such a threat. If he wanted to strike at me, he'd hardly do it in front of three Cabal guards. Jasper was a plotter, not a fighter.
Even as he reclined against the pillows, smirking, I could feel the weight of his gaze on me, assessing me, then shifting to the guards, judging which he could best impersonate.
I made a mental note to speak to my father about that, and ensure all guards assigned to Jasper were as far from his physical type as possible. That would slow him down, but it wouldn't stop him. My father had bought his docility by promising a necromantic visit with his brother's ghost, but the respite would be only temporary. It had taken Jasper years to plan his attack on the Cabal. He would be in no rush to escape from the consequences. But we could never forget he was planning that escape.
I stepped forward. "You wished to speak to me?"
"I asked for your dad, but you'll do just fine." He scanned me, measuring, assessing, noting my expressions, my idiosyncrasies.
"How's Paige?" he asked after a moment.
I tensed, but he only sat there, expectant, as if simply making friendly conversation, not reminding me that he'd tried to kill my wife.
"That was a clever trick," he said. "The glamour spell. Really clever."
Again, no mockery in his voice. Nothing but genuine admiration, as if complimenting a fellow chess player who'd made a brilliant move. That's all this was to Jasper. A game. And I was only a competitor. Or a pawn.
"You wished to speak to me?" I repeated.
"Hope," he said. "I want to see her before she goes."
"She left this morning."
"Did she say anything? Leave me a message?"
"No."
Dismay flickered, but he bounced back with a smile. "She's still mad. That's okay. She'll come around. She just needs time. When she does want to talk to me, you'll let me know, right?"
"I'm sure you'll be informed."
"Thanks. I'd appreciate that."
As he grinned, I almost expected him to pass me a tip, as if I were a concierge at his new five-star hotel.
"Is that everything?" I said.
"Yep. Thanks."
I started to turn away.
"Oh, sorry," he said. "One last thing."
I slowly turned back.
"About the werewolf. Karl, is it?"
I said nothing.
"Could you pass along a message?" A slow smile. "Tell him I'm thinking of him."
I WAS WALKING from the cell when Carlos strode past the hall door. I resisted the urge to step aside before he saw me.
"There you are," he said, shoes squeaking as he wheeled. "You're a hard man to find these days.
I'd almost think you were avoiding me."
"Hello, Carlos."
"We missed you at the funeral today. Mom was hoping you'd show. She really wants to talk to you."
"I'm sure she does," I murmured.
Carlos laughed. "You know my mother. She takes a big interest in your health."
"If you'll excuse me..."
"Not yet." He stepped into my path. "Someone else has been avoiding me. Dad stood beside Mom and me during the service then he took off. That was the only time I've seen him since he accused me of murdering my brothers and tried to kill me. Think maybe he's feeling bad about that?"
"It was a very difficult situation and--"
"Stuff it, Lucas. Rumor has it he wants to buy me out. Have you heard that?"
"No," I lied. "Where did you--?"
"I have my sources. They tell me he's been asking about my debt and my expenses, trying to figure out how much it would take to make me walk away. So how about I help him out with that? I'll name my price. You give him the message."
"If you wish."
"Oh, I do." He stepped nose-to-nose with me. "Tell our father he doesn't have enough to buy me off. By Cabal law, I am entitled to a seat on the board and stock shares, and my birthright is not for sale. I'm not going anywhere, baby bro. Maybe you don't think I pose much of a threat. With Hector and William around, I knew I didn't stand a chance of sliding into the big seat. But now..." He eased back, teeth bared in a grin. "Now everything's changed."
WHEN CARLOS WALKED away, I didn't follow, but retreated into the room outside Jasper's cell, returning to his window, watching him.
Jasper had no idea what he'd done.
I had no idea what I'd do about it.
"It doesn't matter how hard you stare; unless you've learned a spell for laser-vision, you can't make him disappear."
I turned to see Paige, her face drawn, eyes underscored with dark smudges.
She managed a wan smile. "Still on for lunch?"
"Yes, certainly. I wasn't sure...I thought you might want to be alone."
"I don't. Not anymore." She stepped up to the one-way glass, looking at Jasper. "I had a lot to think about and you have too much on your plate already."
I must have looked worried, because she touched my arm.
"We're okay," she said. "I'm just...struggling with the choice I made."
"You didn't make--"
"Of course I did. I didn't argue very hard. There was no point. Your dad had made up his mind and if I fought it, I'd only be trying to absolve myself of guilt. If I'd had the choice, would I really have said 'Oh, no, please send me instead of the convicted murderer'?" She shook her head. "I just wish we hadn't needed to make that decision. And I have a feeling it's not going to be the last one." A small laugh. "I did say I wasn't going to bother you with it, didn't I?"