I can do this. I kept my attention trained on River. "Bring everything we'll need?"
"More than."
Good.
We headed outside.
Frosty threw his arms around my shoulders and whispered, "This is hard for Cole. The situation scares him, that's all."
"He's not the only one," I muttered.
"Yeah, but you're a girl. The braver species."
"This is true."
The lab was just outside of Birmingham. We parked down the street, watching the front doors, taking pictures of the employees who entered and left the building. River told Cole our strategy, and though the muscle below his eye started ticking again, he agreed it was sound.
Finally, darkness fell. Time to get to work. My adrenaline jacked up as we took our places around the building. Only two guards manned the reception desk.
"In five...four...three..." River's voice whispered through the tiny bud in my ear. "Two. One."
Camilla approached the glass doors in front and knocked frantically. Her shirt was soaked with fake blood, and she clutched the "wound" as if she was in terrible pain and even wavered on her feet as if she was about to faint.
Guard Number One popped to his feet. Guard Number Two grabbed his arm to hold him in place. From the shadows outside, I watched as One and Two engaged in a fiery conversation. Ultimately, Two picked up the phone to call...911? His boss?
Taking it up a notch, Camilla fell to her knees, then tumbled the rest of the way to the ground, where she sprawled, still as death. One ignored his buddy and rushed to the door. The moment it was open, and he was leaning down to help her, Camilla shot him point-blank with a tranquilizer gun.
Cole did a mad dash from the shadows to the doorway, leaping over Camilla and the guard to shoot Two with a tranq. He collapsed, and Cole swiped up the phone to listen.
"Hadn't finished dialing," he said.
Frosty and Bronx dragged One inside. The rest of us came in behind them. I made sure to lock the doors. As we tiptoed through the narrow corridor, part of me expected a million guards to rush out of hiding and Frosty to go bat-crap crazy and kill them. When would the visions come true?
We reached a thick, red door without incident. The ID pad on the left was like a neon sign flashing the words You'll. Never. Get. Past. This. Point.
Could I? Even though Helen had said my prints would not be wiped from Anima's system, eleven years was a long time. Anything could have happened.
Chance withdrew a bunch of equipment I didn't recognize, hooked this to that, and that to this, pushed buttons, rewired and boom, it was Open Sesame. No fingerprint ID necessary.
Which was probably for the best. Cole would freak, and everyone else would claim Helen had done it to trap me in some way. To trap us.
We found offices and, under Camilla's direction, copied the hard drives. We found rooms with medical equipment and a vast array of medications and, again, under Camilla's direction, took samples. "We need that. And that. And that," she said, expecting us to grab the items.
As River's sister, she was used to taking charge. I got that. But I wasn't her lackey, and she wasn't my boss. Her commands scraped my nerves raw.
In the back was an unlocked door. I checked behind me. No one paid me any attention. I breezed through and found myself in a hallway. Alone. At the end was another door, but it was locked. Licking my lips, I performed another quick check before resting my palm on the ID screen. Lights glowed between my spread fingers. I waited with bated breath--
And the lock disengaged.
I couldn't... It was... Wow. Just wow. It had worked.
"Ali," Cole barked.
I jolted, guilty.
I raced around the corner, chasing the sound of his voice. Everyone had gathered in the back of the building, where at least fifty cages with grunting, collared zombies lined the wall. We ashed the creatures and stole their collars.
We checked the rest of the building, found nothing, no one, and dragged the unconscious guards outside. Then we did what we'd all been waiting for. Destroyed. Everything.
River claimed to be something of an explosives expert and set a charge. The entire structure imploded, tumbling down, dust pluming in the air without any debris flying out to harm a civilian. A sense of triumph.
At Mr. Ankh's, we poured into the entertainment room to celebrate.
I lost interest, my mood dark.
Cole stood off to the side, chatting with Camilla.
Jealousy prickled at me as I strolled over. I placed my hand on his shoulder. Rising on my tiptoes, I whispered, "Guess Helen wasn't lying after all" straight into his ear.
He stiffened, giving his back to Camilla to glare at me. "Not this time."
"Not ever."
"Why can't you see the truth? She is the spider, and you are the fly. She's just lured you into her web."
My hands tightened into fists, and I looked pointedly at Camilla. "I could say the same to you. Enjoy your time together."
I walked away, hating him...hating myself.
*
Over the next few days, a routine developed. Mr. Ankh tested the samples we'd stolen, becoming increasingly frustrated with the results. Everything was useless. The more tech-savvy people dissected every word on every computer file pulled from the slip disks, but again, there was nothing of value.
It was as if Anima had known we were coming, removed everything incriminating and let us have the lab. Let us waste our time searching for answers that weren't there, either to pacify us or distract us.
If that was true, we had a mole in our midst--which might also explain how Benjamin the assassin had gotten free, despite what he'd said.
The idea sickened me. I trusted everyone in my group; we'd fought together, bled together. And I wanted to trust River and his friends. But could I? I mean, they supposedly had spies inside Anima, and yet, there was never any new information to report.
Cole would say Helen was to blame for all of this. Only Helen.
My stomach twisted, wringing out bile. Oh, glory. What if he was right?
Can't doubt my instincts now. In too deep.
Every morning, the slayers worked out in the gym. Our job was physical; we had to stay in shape. On more than one occasion I noticed Camilla eye-stalking Cole, making it (more) obvious she wanted a piece of him. Today, she even trailed him when he finished on the treadmill. It took every bit of my willpower not to go after them.
Stupid fight. And stupid Cole!
Stupid Camilla!
At least he glanced over his shoulder, meeting my gaze. Every cell in my body lit up. I almost cried his name. Almost. I wouldn't crumble first.
He looked away and continued on. Still no spontaneous visions.
I wasn't sure how much more of this I could take.
Though I wanted to chase after him, I hopped on the treadmill he'd just abandoned, letting my mind explore the visions the other slayers had been having. Just this morning, Frosty had seen himself digging through a pile of rubble, and Bronx had seen himself holding Reeve while she cried.
Gavin had seen himself fighting to reach an injured Jaclyn and an unconscious Justin, and Jaclyn had seen herself taking a bullet to the leg.
Bad, but at least we knew Justin was still alive despite Ethan's lack of communication.
Another point in our favor: no more daylight zombies. However, they did come out every night and cluster around Mr. Ankh's property line. Every night but yesterday, that is, and I wasn't sure why. Still... The frequent attacks had allowed me to practice using the push-ability. I was getting good. I would focus, drawing energy into the center of my being, and then imagine it shooting out of me. And it would! I allowed myself one push, and that was it. So far, I hadn't experienced another leak.
But the frequent attacks were also the reason more and more of River's slayers were moving into the mansion. We needed backup.
The new females were all over Cole. Not just Camilla, but most of her friends, too. A sly touch he
re. A suggestive remark there. I was no longer sure of my position in his life, so I kept quiet. But deep down, rage simmered.
I wasn't just going to make them bleed; I was going to cause permanent damage.
Needless to say, tensions were high. And not just mine. All of the slayers were exhausted. Our current schedule was grueling. Too much so. We kept this up for much longer, and we'd collapse.
But maybe that was Anima's plan. Exhaust us, and after we collapsed, pick us off one by one.
The conversations around me ceased abruptly, jarring me. I focused. Cole had just returned to the gym, his expression dark. My heart rate quickened, and not because of my steady jog.
He stopped beside me. "You've got a phone call."
I wiped the sweat off my brow, smoothed my damp hair from my face. "Who is it?"
"Ethan."
Finally! I jabbed my finger at the machine, and the belt froze. I hopped down and raced out, only to realize I didn't know where to go.
"The cell is still in Ankh's office," he said. Mr. Ankh had it hooked to some kind of tracing device.
I picked up speed. Mr. Ankh was at his desk, and he did not look happy.
"Ethan will only talk to you," he said.
We'd all prayed this day would come.
Just this morning, Kat had patted me on the back, smiled her most wily grin and said, "Let them think we're going their way, while we really go our way...the best way!"
Now threads of nervousness slithered through me; I had to cut them with mental scissors as I reached for the cell phone.
Mr. Ankh donned a set of earphones so that he could listen to the entire conversation. He gave me a stiff nod.
"Hello, Ethan," I said, proud of my seeming calm.
"Hello, Ali." He displayed the same calm.
"Where have you been? Why the delay?"
"A few things came up. Nothing you need to worry about, though. Justin hasn't dropped dead or anything like that."
Sweet confirmation. My gaze scanned the room. Cole had come in behind me and Veronica and Juliana behind him. River strolled in next, with Frosty and Bronx close on his heels.
Jaclyn raced inside, her gaze wide, hopeful.
Word had spread.
I gave everyone a thumbs-up.
"--there?" Ethan asked.
"Yes, I'm here." Steady. "I still want to do the trade," I said. "But I'll need new proof of life."
"You'll get it. But first, there's someone who'd like to speak with you."
Static. Then, "Hello, Miss Bell." A woman's voice. Unfamiliar.
"You have me at a disadvantage. You seem to know me, but I have no idea who you are."
"My name is Rebecca Smith. You may call me Rebecca."
The head of Anima herself. Why not call her Becky?
Or Satan.
"You've caused me so much trouble," she said, "I've decided to deal with you myself."
"You'll understand if I don't wish you better luck, Ms. Smith." My gaze found Cole--his expression darkened further. This was the woman his father and Helen had warned us about. The one known for her interrogation "technique."
She chuckled, as if she'd expected no other reply. "A born rebel. Just like your mother."
As if she knows me.
"We did some jobs together, you know," she continued. "Not the one with your boyfriend's mother, of course. That was all Helen. But others that were equally successful. I'd be on the field now if the antidote hadn't stopped working for me."
Bile...burning up my throat... My features remained relaxed. I wouldn't give anything away to the onlookers. "Why don't we concentrate on the here and now, hmm?"
"Very well." I heard fingers tapping on a keyboard. "As I'm sure you've guessed, you are the key to our success. With you, we can capitalize on all the good zombies provide while discarding the bad."
"How?"
She ignored me and said, "I'm sending Ankh an email. There's a video attached. You'll want to watch it. It's your proof of life."
Okay, good, we were moving right along. "So, how would you like to do this?"
She didn't hesitate. "I would like to send Ethan to your door and make the exchange that way, because it's the easiest solution, but we both know you'll only kill him and take the boy. Instead, I'll expect to see you at--"
"You know what?" I interjected, as rehearsed. "You don't get to arrange this. You'll be at Hearts, the nightclub downtown, in two hours, with Justin, because he's your ticket through the door. Fail to comply and my mission will be the destruction of everything you hold dear." Actually, it already was.
Click.
I wanted to hunch over and vomit. Had I just made a huge mistake, insisting Ms. Smith meet us at Hearts, rather than playing the game by her rules? I hoped not. Mr. Ankh owned the nightclub, and our slayers were used to the building's layout. We'd have the advantage.
We needed every advantage we could get.
"Did you get a trace?" Cole demanded of Mr. Ankh.
"No," he snapped. "They rerouted the signal a thousand different ways. I'm guessing there'll be no way to trace the email, either, no matter how many people I put on the task."
Great.
We waited with bated breath for the telltale ding to sound, signaling the email had arrived. And when it did, we crowded behind Mr. Ankh's desk as he pushed Play on the video.
Justin appeared on the screen--and Jaclyn would have collapsed, if Gavin hadn't held her up.
Justin was huddled in back of a cage. He had on a pair of underwear, nothing more. Around him was a toilet, a sink and a twin bed. He'd lost so much weight, his ribs were visible. There were bruises under his eyes, track marks up his arms.
Was Anima pumping him with drugs, sedating him? Or taking blood?
Heck. Probably both.
Beside his cage were two other cages, and in those were countless collared zombies.
The camera moved away from him, the screen going blank, and Jaclyn cried, "No!"
I blinked back tears.
"I doubt they'll really try and do an exchange," Cole said, checking the magazine in his gun. "We've got a fifty-fifty chance. They'll either try to capture us all or kill us all. Flip a coin."
He was right. I'd known it all along, and yet, here, now, with slayers I'd only ever wanted to protect standing around me, it seemed wrong. "I'll do it, then. I'll trade." No double cross.
"No!" He spun around, glared at me. Except, it wasn't anger I saw. It was anguish. "No."
"Yes! Dang it, yes!" I stomped my foot. "How many times do I have to remind you? One person will give her life to save many. This is what I'm supposed to do."
He got in my face, yelling, "And how many times do I have to remind you that you can't know that for sure? That I refuse to lose you?"
"You have a funny way of showing it!"
He backed up a step, drew in a breath.
I squared my shoulders. "I'm making the trade, Cole."
"No." He shook his head. "Even if you are the one, I won't let it happen. None of us will. So. Not another word from you. Go weapon up. We'll do the same. Everyone meet in the foyer, ten minutes."
"Cole--"
"Not another word! We'll go as if they plan to make the trade. We'll fight, kill as many of them as we can, finally put a dent in their forces." At the end of his control, and with a final glare aimed at me, he left.
Chapter 26
AT THE CORNER OF
MURDER AND MAYHEM
The countdown had begun.
Five minutes, and I was armed and ready.
Six minutes, and I gathered in the foyer with the other slayers and hugged Reeve and Kat goodbye.
"You come back to me, Ali-cat," Kat whispered. "You're nothing without me."
"Um, I think the saying is actually 'I'm nothing without you.'"
"Exactly what I said."
I smiled despite the tense situation. "Love you."
"Love you, too. And you had better be careful, Frosty," she called. "Or else."
/> "Always, baby."
They'd made up. Good. Heart squeezing, I peered at Cole. To my utter shock, his gaze was already sealed on me. Narrowed. Intense. As always, shiver-inducing. There were a thousand things I wanted to say to him, a thousand more I wanted to do.
Look away.
Somehow I managed it.
Eight minutes, and the slayers were striding toward the two SUVs outside.
I headed for the car in front, reached for the handle of the back door. My wrist was grabbed and I was spun around, a hard weight pushing my back against the cold metal. I gasped.
Cole!
My heart squeezed harder.
He cupped my cheeks, his hands warm. His gaze was pure violet fire. "I'm sorry. I'm miserable without you. Haven't been eating or sleeping. Just wanting. And there is no way I can let you head into a situation as dangerous as this one without telling you."
I trembled, overcome. Finally, one of us had breached the wall between us. The stronger one, I realized. "We--"
"I'm not done. I love you," he continued. "I've missed you. I don't like that you're talking to Helen. I'll never like it. I don't trust her, and I'm so afraid only terrible things will come of it. But I trust you and your instincts, so I'm taking it on faith--in you. I'm backing off."
I clutched the collar of his jacket. "I'm sorry, too. I handled things poorly and--"
He shook his head. "Still not done, love. There's one last thing, and it's a bit of a topic switch, so try to stay with me. Ready? Camilla made a play for me. You're just going to have to trust me when I say I turned her down and nothing happened."
"What!" I exploded.
He pressed his mouth to mine. I melted against him. The kiss was a balm. The pain I'd felt these past few days melted away. The sense of rejection. The anger, the bitterness, too. I was swept up in our connection, the heat of him forging me into something greater.
Catcalls. Grunts of irritation. Prods to hurry. They penetrated my awareness as Cole lifted his head. I was too dazed to move, so he spun me around, gave my butt a smack and helped me into the car. He climbed in beside me. We held hands the entire drive.
Camilla was lucky she was riding in the other car. Later we would be having a chat. Maybe with knives. I wouldn't allow her to walk away--she'd have to crawl.
Once we pulled into the club's parking lot, my internal clock kicked back on. We had a little less than an hour and a half before the exchange was to take place.