I started to take hold of her again, but Deah shook her head and hobbled away from me.
“My ankle is sprained. I can barely stand on it, much less run or try to climb with it. One of us needs to be the distraction while the other escapes. You know it as well as I do.” She stared me in the eyes, letting me see and feel her rock-hard determination. “I’m the one who’s injured, so I’m going to be the distraction.”
“But—”
She gave me a grim look. “I’m Victor’s daughter. You heard what Blake said. My dad won’t kill me . . . right away.” Her mouth twisted. “Not until he has a chance to blackmail me into doing his bidding again. Or to take my mimic magic for himself.”
I opened my mouth, but she cut me off.
“But you, Lila? My dad will throw you into a cage with the rest of the Sinclairs. Or worse, execute you, if Blake doesn’t go ahead and do it for him. So you need to go—right now.” Deah pulled her sword free from a belt loop on her shorts. “I’ll hold off Blake and the guards as long as I can. That should give you enough time to get back to Felix and Devon and tell them about the warehouse.”
“But—”
She shook her head. “No buts. This is how it has to be and we both know it. Besides, Blake and my dad don’t realize that you know about the warehouse. That means you, Felix, and Devon still have a chance to break in and rescue everyone, including me.”
She tried to smile, but her expression twisted into a painful grimace, and she reached out and leaned one hand against the alley wall in order to take some of her weight off her injured ankle.
Deah looked at me again, her blue eyes as bright as Seleste’s always were. “No matter what happens, I want you to know something—that you’ve been more of a friend, more of a family, to me in the last few weeks than Blake and my dad have ever been. I trust you in a way I’ve never trusted them, and I’m trusting you to rescue me, my mom, and all the other Sinclairs. Do you understand, Lila? I’m trusting you to save us all. Promise me you can do that. Promise me you won’t let me down the way Blake and my dad always have.”
Her gaze locked with mine again and I felt every ounce of her cold sorrow and aching regret. But mixed in with those tense, sad emotions was blazing conviction. She really did think I could save her, Seleste, and everyone else.
My heart twisted, but I stepped forward, grabbed her hand, and stared back into her eyes, hoping that she could see my own determination.
“I promise,” I whispered, squeezing her hand tight. “I’ll find a way to rescue you and Seleste and all the others. Count on it.”
She nodded. “That’s all I needed to hear. Now go. Before it’s too late for both of us.”
Deah hesitated, then stepped forward and hugged me tight, just for a second, before letting go. She stared at me another moment, then raised her sword, turned around, and limped back down to the end of the alley. She looked up and down the street, searching for the guards. She froze for a second, then whipped around and started hobbling in the opposite direction. Excited shouts rose up in the distance. The guards had already spotted her.
I bit my lip, guilt, grief, fear, and worry churning in my stomach like acid, but Deah had sacrificed herself to save me, and I was going to honor her choice. So I took hold of the drainpipe and started climbing. A few seconds later, I was up on the roof. Even though I knew exactly what I would see, I still turned around slowly, dreading the sight.
Down on the street, Deah was still hobbling along, moving as fast as she could, with the Draconi guards shouting and running after her.
It took them less than a minute to catch up to her. The guards surrounded Deah, forming a tight circle around her and cutting off any potential escape. Blake swaggered up and said something to her that I couldn’t hear. Deah glared at her brother, but she threw her stolen sword down at his feet. I winced at the harsh clang-clang-clang of metal hitting the sidewalk.
Blake barked out an order, and two of the guards stepped forward and clamped their hands around Deah’s arms. She glared at Blake again, but he made a sharp motion with his hand and the guards dragged her away. A few seconds later, they rounded the corner and disappeared from my line of sight.
Gone. Deah was gone. Captured.
And it was all my fault.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Blake and the rest of the Draconi guards spread out, still searching for me down on the ground, but I kept to the rooftops, so it was easy for me to avoid them. Ten minutes later, I slid down a drainpipe into the alley where Devon and Felix were waiting.
Felix looked up, his dark gaze locked onto the drainpipe, expecting to see someone else come sliding down it at any second. But of course she didn’t.
“Where’s Deah?” he asked.
I swallowed, trying to clear the guilt out of my throat, dreading what I had to tell him. When I spoke, my voice was a hoarse, ragged whisper. “She let herself be captured so that I could escape.”
“What!” Felix yelled, his hands balling into tight fists, his bronze skin turning red with fear and fury. “How could you let that happen?”
I shook my head, tears stinging my eyes. “I’m sorry, Felix. So sorry—”
He snarled, turned away from me, and smashed his fist into the alley wall. Felix winced and shook out his hand, but that pain was small compared to the anguish filling his dark eyes. Devon squeezed his best friend’s shoulder, then gathered me up into his arms, hugging me tight.
“It’s not your fault, Lila,” he whispered. “It’s not your fault.”
I hugged him back, leaning into his warm, strong body, even though I didn’t deserve to be comforted right now. “Yes, it is,” I whispered back. “Yes, it is.”
“Tell us what happened,” Felix growled. “Right now.”
I pulled away from Devon, blinked back the rest of my tears, and told them about eavesdropping on Blake in the Midway, the guards chasing us, and finally Deah twisting her ankle and sacrificing herself so that I could escape. By the time I finished, Devon and Felix both had grim, worried expressions on their faces.
“I’m sorry, Felix,” I whispered again. “So sorry. I tried to help her, I tried to convince her that we could both escape, but she wouldn’t listen to me.”
He sighed, his shoulders slumped, and some of the anger drained out of his body. “It’s okay, Lila. I understand. Believe me, no one can make Deah Draconi do anything that she doesn’t want to. I’m sorry I yelled at you.”
I nodded, although the guilt continued to eat away at my insides.
“All right,” Devon said. “What’s done is done. Now that we know where the warehouse is, we can figure out how to get inside and break everyone out, including Deah. But first, we need to get out of sight. Now that Blake knows we’re still alive, the Draconis will be combing the Midway and all the shopping squares searching for us. We need to get back to the library and regroup. Agreed?”
Felix and I both gave him tense nods. Devon nodded back at us, then crept to the end of the alley and looked in both directions. The street was clear and he gestured for Felix and me to follow him. Together, we left the alley behind.
Twenty minutes later, we were back in the library basement. We trudged down the stairs to find Oscar pacing back and forth on one of the metal shelves, his black cowboy boots clack-clack-clacking in time to his sharp, hurried movements. Tiny was lumbering along the shelf, as though he were also pacing, albeit at his much slower tortoise speed.
“There you are!” Oscar shouted. “I was so worried about you!”
The pixie zipped through the air, landed on my shoulder, and hugged my neck. I patted his back. He hugged me again, then zipped off my shoulder and hovered in the air in front of us. Oscar looked me over, then Devon and Felix. It only took him a second to realize that someone was missing.
“Where’s Deah?” he whispered.
I sighed and flopped down on one of the cots. “She gave herself up and got captured so that I could escape.”
Oscar gave me a sym
pathetic look, flew over, and hugged my neck a third time. “Oh, Lila. I’m so sorry.”
I nodded, my throat closing up with emotion again. Oscar nodded back at me, then flew over to where Tiny was still lumbering along the shelf. The tortoise stopped and gave me a mournful look as well, as though he understood every word we’d said.
“Tell me about the warehouse where my mom and the others are,” Devon said, pacing back and forth across the basement.
I drew in a breath and told him everything I knew about the warehouse, which frankly, wasn’t much. Just that it was close to the lochness bridge, sometimes guarded, and that I’d never been inside.
“Mmm-hmm. Mmm-hmm,” Devon said, absorbing the information and still moving from one side of the basement to the other and back again.
Felix sat down on the other cot. “Hey, man, stop pacing already. You’re making me dizzy.”
Devon finally stopped and looked at me. “If I create a distraction, just like Deah did, do you think you can sneak into the warehouse and free the others?”
“Sure. I can sneak into the warehouse if the guards are looking the other way. It’s nothing that I haven’t done before.” I frowned. “What kind of distraction are you talking about?”
He pointed at the bags of black blades that were lying on the floor. “I’m talking about giving Victor exactly what he wants.”
Felix shook his head. “No, no way, Dev. You show up with the weapons and Victor will just kill you and take the black blades for himself.”
Devon’s mouth flattened out into a harsh line. He straightened up and anger flashed in his green eyes. In that moment, he looked every inch the bruiser, the leader, he was. “I know he’ll try, but he won’t succeed. I’ll meet Victor and offer to give him the weapons, while you and Lila sneak into the warehouse and free everyone. By the time Victor realizes what’s happening, it will be too late for him and his guards to capture everyone again.”
A cold fist of fear wrapped around my heart, squeezing tight. “And what about you? Because Victor will still have you. He’ll kill you for double-crossing him. You know he will.”
Devon looked at me, his eyes softening. “I know he’ll try, but we’ll figure out a way to get the best of him. Trust me, okay, Lila?” His face hardened again. “Besides, I’m the Sinclair bruiser. It’s my job to look out for everyone else. It’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted to be. So let me do my job now, when it matters most. Help me save our Family. Please.”
We all looked at Devon, then at each other. Felix’s eyes were dark and troubled, but he slowly nodded. So did Oscar and even Tiny. Finally, I did too.
I got up from the cot, went over, and kissed Devon. Then I drew back and stared up into his eyes. “I’m with you,” I whispered. “Now and always.”
Devon grinned. “I know you are, just like I’m with you. Now and always.”
He moved over, opened one of the duffel bags, and started sorting through the weapons inside. Felix and Oscar both went over to help him, while Tiny peered down at them from his perch on the shelf. I stood back out of the way and watched them all work, my gaze locked onto Devon as he examined each weapon in turn.
I’d told him the truth—I was with him in his plan to save Claudia, Mo, Deah, and all the other Sinclairs. But I’d also made a promise to Claudia last night in the restaurant, the same promise I’d made to her the very first day I’d joined the Family. It might be Devon’s job to protect the Sinclairs, but it was my duty to protect him, and that was exactly what I was going to do.
No matter what it cost me.
An hour later, we were still in the basement, all of us gathered around and staring down at Felix’s phone.
“Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?” Felix asked, a bit of nervous tension creeping into his voice. “What if Blake is his usual jerk self and doesn’t go for it? What then?”
“Blake will go for it,” Devon said. “I’m sure of it. Besides, he’s too afraid of his dad not to do exactly what Victor says, and we all know how much Victor wants these black blades. So make the call.”
Felix nodded, scrolled through his contacts, and hit his phone, putting it on speaker so we could all hear. A second later, it started ringing. We all tensed when someone on the other end picked up.
“Who is this?” Blake growled. “And what do you want?”
“It’s Devon Sinclair,” Devon replied in a cold voice. “And I want to talk to Victor.”
Silence.
Then Blake let out a low, ugly laugh. “Finally calling to give yourself up? How sweet. You can join the rest of your loser Family in the cages my dad has them in.”
A muscle ticked in Devon’s jaw and it took him a moment to respond. “Tell Victor I have the black blades—the real ones that are filled with magic. Unless you want to be the reason why he doesn’t get the weapons he wants?”
Blake hissed out a breath at the implied threat in Devon’s words. He knew exactly what his dad was capable of.
“Call me back in ten minutes,” he growled again and hung up.
So we waited ten minutes in silence, each minute seeming longer than the last, but the second the time was up, Felix hit Blake’s number again. The phone rang three times before someone answered it.
“Mr. Sinclair,” Victor’s smooth voice oozed out of the phone. “I thought you might call with an offer, but I didn’t expect it to be such an intriguing one.”
“My offer is simple,” Devon said. “The black blades in exchange for the safe return of my mom, Angelo Morales, William Reginald, Mo Kaminsky, and all the other Sinclairs you’re holding hostage.”
“And how do I know you’ll give me the real black blades this time and not just more fakes?”
Devon drew in a breath. “Because I’m the one who stole them out of that secret room in your office. It took me two weeks to get them all, but believe me, I have them. I can send you photos or read off the codes that you put on the weapons, if you like.”
Silence.
“That won’t be necessary,” Victor finally replied. “I assume you want the exchange to take place as soon as possible.”
“Yes. And I want your assurances that you will not harm my mother or any of the other Sinclairs.”
“Your mother is still in one piece . . . more or less,” Victor purred, a note of sly satisfaction creeping into his voice. “Nothing’s broken that a little stitch-sting can’t fix.” He paused. “Well, perhaps quite a lot of stitch-sting.”
Devon’s jaw clenched and his hands balled into fists, but he didn’t respond to the obvious taunt. We all knew that Victor had been torturing Claudia to get her to give up the location of the weapons, but it was still horrifying to hear him talk about it, especially in such a cold, casual way.
“The same thing goes for Mr. Kaminsky,” Victor continued in that same sly, satisfied tone. “Although I’ll admit that I’ve been a little more . . . enthusiastic in my questioning of him.”
I sucked in a breath, white-hot rage roaring through my body, but I clamped my lips shut and ground my teeth together to keep from screaming curses at him. No doubt that was exactly what Victor wanted. He’d hurt Claudia and Mo, and now he was hurting us by bragging about how he’d tortured them. Well, he was going to pay for it—all of it.
Victor laughed into the shocked silence. “The exchange happens tonight. Nine o’clock sharp. There’s a warehouse on Copper Street. Do you know where that is?”
Devon looked at me, as surprised as I was that Victor wanted to meet where he was holding the Sinclairs. But I supposed it made sense. Victor would want to keep his prisoners as close as possible and his forces intact. He wouldn’t want to risk going to another location with his guards and letting a single Sinclair escape while he was gone.
“Mr. Sinclair?”
“Yes,” Devon said, his voice cold. “I know where that is.”
“Good. Then bring the weapons there. I don’t know how many guards you might have with you, but if my men see a single one, so
much as the smallest pixie, then I will execute your mother right in front of you. Do I make myself clear, Mr. Sinclair?”
“Yes,” Devon ground out. “Very clear.”
“Excellent. Then we have an agreement. So nice doing business with you.” Victor paused. “And Mr. Sinclair?”
“What?” Devon growled.
“Be sure to bring the real weapons this time. I would hate for anything to happen to your mother because you were stupid enough to think you could fool me with more fakes.”
Devon opened his mouth, but Victor ended the call before he could respond. Devon let out a tense breath, and Felix turned his phone off.
“Now what?” Oscar muttered, twitching his wings and hovering in midair.
Devon sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Now we try to get some rest before tonight.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
We hashed out our plan, gathered up our supplies, and made sure that everything was ready. Once that was done, there was nothing else for us to do, so we ate some of the bacon-flavored beef jerky and water I had stored in the basement, then turned off the lights and lay down, trying to get some sleep.
For a while, I lay there in the dark with the others, listening to Devon’s and Felix’s soft, even breaths, mixed in with Oscar’s and Tiny’s deep, rumbling snores. But I couldn’t sleep, so I slid off my cot, crept through the basement, and eased up the steps, careful not to make them creak and wake the others. I opened the door at the top of the steps and went into the storage room, then out into the main part of the library.
It was still early, just after six o’clock, and the summer sun was still shining in the sky, streaming in through the windows and illuminating the shelves of books, magazines, and movies. At my passing, a few dust motes swirled through the air like lazy bumblebees before settling back down; everything was quiet, except for the faint hum of the air conditioning system.
I’d been sneaking in here at night for so long that it was strange seeing the library during the daylight hours, almost as if I’d never been in here before. So I wandered through the aisles, looking at all the books and running my fingers along their creased, well-worn spines. The air smelled faintly musty, like the books, but it was a familiar, comforting scent.