"Fine?" I said. "But he was at death's door this morning."
"Oh, he still is. Apparently that doesn't matter."
Before I could ask what she meant, she greeted Clay with a quick hand squeeze and a tired smile. He murmured something I didn't catch, and she nodded.
"Quite the welcoming committee," Jaz said. His grin lit on Clay. "Clayton Danvers. This is an honor."
"Want me to take this trash off your hands, darling?" Clay said.
"Please."
Clay took Jaz by the shoulder.
"Good," Jaz said as Clay led him away. "Your mate? Nice lady, I'm sure, but not very talkative. I'm hoping you're the chatty one, because I have a lot to ask-- Oww."
I shook my head and walked over to Elena.
"We didn't know you were coming," I said.
"Neither did I. Normally, this is exactly where I'd want to be. But right now, I should be sitting at Karl's bedside."
"Benicio made you come?"
She snorted. "Benicio doesn't make me do anything. Sadly, I can't say the same for a certain conniving bastard who happens to be a member of my Pack. I'm not at Karl's bedside because Karl is not in his bed."
She turned to the jet door. As if on cue, Karl appeared, leaning heavily on a cane. A young man hovered anxiously behind him with a wheelchair.
"Sit in the damned chair!" Elena said. "Jasper already knows you're in no shape to fight him, so the macho act is only going to ensure you don't live long enough to meet your daughter."
I expected him to snap something back. Or at least glower and ignore her. But he lowered himself into the chair and let the nurse roll him down the ramp.
"Too weak to argue, I see," I said.
"Oh, he argues just fine. He's playing along now because he already got his way."
"Someone told him about Jaz, I take it."
"Damned nurse. I could have wrung her neck. Or his. Manipulative bastard. He knew something was up. When I slipped out to talk to Benicio, Karl charmed her into telling him what was going on. I come back? He's out of bed and getting dressed. I tried to get them to sedate him, but he's on too many other drugs to risk another dose. They worried about an adverse reaction. So I was screwed."
Clayton came back to meet us, Jaz now secured in the van. "I'd have done the same if you'd been taken."
She grumbled something uncomplimentary under her breath.
"So you're saying you'd have stayed in the bed if it was me?"
She sighed and uncrossed her arms. "It's not that I don't understand. It's that I couldn't stop him. He's putting his life in danger by coming here. As Alpha-elect, it's my duty to protect him. As a Pack wolf, he should have obeyed me. When I was kidnapped and taken to that compound, Jeremy made you stay behind. He was able to make you stay behind."
"Different circumstances. I stayed while we planned. Once the attack was launched, Jeremy wouldn't have tried keeping me back. You tried with Karl because he could kill himself. You could have tried harder, I bet, but you knew that the stress of being stuck in that bed could have killed him just as easily."
She sighed again. He put his arm around her waist and steered her toward the car. They murmured together, too low for Adam and me to hear, and we hung back so we wouldn't.
When they caught up to Karl in his wheelchair, we picked up speed to join them.
"I do appreciate this, Elena," Karl said, his voice quiet. "I know it's not what you wanted, but I'm grateful--"
"Stuff it, Karl. You're here because you didn't leave me a choice. Remember all those years of fence-sitting? Trying to decide whether you wanted to be in the Pack? You never really got over that, did you? Well, I'll make it easy for you. If you survive this, you're out."
Karl didn't respond. He just looked from the van to the SUV. "Where do you want me?" he asked Elena. "And yes, right now I think I know the general answer, but more specifically . . ."
"Up front in the van. Where you will not speak to Jasper. That's the condition you agreed to. Don't forget it. You are here for Hope when we get her out. You will not interfere with the mission. You will have no contact with Jasper Haig. You agreed to all that."
"I did."
Elena pointed at the van and the nurse rolled him off.
"Bastard," Elena muttered as we climbed into the SUV.
"Punish him later," Clay said. "Or really kick his ass out. Your choice. For now, he owes you. Use that to keep him in line."
"That's what I plan to do. Now fill me in. How exactly are we getting inside?"
Elena was not getting inside. A very limited number of people could be smuggled in with Jaz. I was going in--I knew the players and I'd been in this compound before. For backup, I needed a non-spellcaster, in case the wards extended farther than we thought. Lucas debated sending Clay or Elena with me, then decided, as useful as brute strength was, the ability to disintegrate a door might come in more handy. So, too, might the ability to pick a lock and disarm an alarm. So Adam would be my wingman.
Lucas took us aside after that had been decided.
"Will this still work?" he said. "With the change in your relationship, I'm not altogether comfortable putting you together on this."
"Right," I said. "Because couples shouldn't be trusted on dangerous missions. You should tell that to Elena and Clay. Or to yourself and Paige."
"It's not a matter of trust, Savannah. It will be different now. I know that from my early days of working with Paige."
"If you're asking whether we'll slip off midmission to make out, the answer is no."
"I don't think that's what he means," Adam said. "Being partners off the job could affect our priorities." He looked at Lucas. "I didn't just wake up yesterday and realize I have feelings for Savannah. Even before it was this kind of feeling, I cared about her. That hasn't changed. Your situation was different. No offense to Paige, but when you two started working together, she needed someone to watch her back. Savannah can take care of herself."
Lucas paused, then nodded. "All right then. Adam, you go and get ready. Savannah, can you hold on a moment?"
He waited until Adam was out of earshot, then said, "You're angry with me because I'm not pleased with this new development."
"Um, yeah. No one else seems to have a problem with it."
"Because, it seems, they all foresaw this change in your relationship. I thought Paige was mistaken. Perhaps I hoped she was mistaken. Paige may joke about maturity levels, but there is still a significant age difference. He's a year younger than me, Savannah. I'm not comfortable with that. Not at your age."
"And when would you be comfortable with it. In a year? Two?"
He considered the question. "Ten. I would be more comfortable with it if you were thirty-one. Perhaps thirty."
I glowered at him.
"You asked my opinion."
"You're worried about me," I said. "I get that. I don't think you're the only one concerned about the age difference. I know Adam didn't plan to let me know how he felt yet. He thought I'd died in that blast and he kissed me when it turned out I was still alive. The cat was out of the bag. He couldn't stuff it back in and tell me to wait a few years."
I met Lucas's gaze. "Maybe I am too young. Maybe it won't work. But this isn't some random older guy I met in a bar. I've known Adam half my life. We've been friends--really good friends--for years. I think that counts for something. But however young you think I am, Lucas, I'm old enough to make my own mistakes."
"I know." He steered me toward the tent. "I suppose I'll get used to the idea. But if he hurts you . . ."
"You'll sue for damages."
He smiled. "I will."
FORTY-THREE
The plan was simple enough--get in with Jaz, who would impersonate Gordon Scott, then work backward, eliminating security from the inside out to clear the way for the rest of the team to enter without alerting Giles.
Jaz had the most prep work. He had to become Scott. That wasn't just a matter of adjusting his physiognomy to look like the
guy. He had to dress like him, act like him, become him. As I realized what we were asking him to do, the sheer magnitude of the task hit me. He could do it in days, maybe. But we were scheduled to infiltrate in less than an hour. Inside, de Rais was getting anxious. He wouldn't wait much longer.
Turned out the task wasn't as huge as it seemed. Not for a guy who'd learned to flip in and out of identities the way Jaz had. Even before the jet left Miami, he'd told Benicio he needed every scrap they had on Scott. Not just information and photographs, but video. He really needed video.
Luckily, Scott was a perennial troublemaker. Our agency had a file on him. The council had a file. The Cortezes and the Boyds and the Nasts all had files. The Nasts--through Sean--supplied the video. They'd bought information off Scott twice and taped both interviews. Jaz had studied those tapes and the files on the flight.
When Jaz walked out of the tent, I kicked myself--hard--for not checking those photos myself. I'd met Scott. Three days ago. He'd been one of the SLAM members meeting with Giles when Mom and I infiltrated the group. Now Jaz was Gordon Scott, exactly as I remembered him from our one brief encounter. He'd mastered his walk and voice and mannerisms. Earlier, I agreed with Clay that the world was better off without Jasper Haig in it. Now, seeing the transformation, I could feel what Benicio must--that this was an incredible power, and incredibly valuable. Still didn't mean I wouldn't kill the bastard if he got in the way of rescuing Hope or stopping de Rais.
Precautions had been taken to ensure Jaz wouldn't go off-plan. De Rais had already made it clear that he'd love Jaz as an ally. So what was to stop Jaz from walking into that compound, revealing himself, and saying "Here I am. Protect me from the Cabals, give me Hope and I'm all yours."
A little device taped to his side--that's what would stop him. It was a modified insulin pump, intended for diabetics. It even contained insulin. So if Jaz was searched, it would seem legit--Scott wasn't the kind of guy who'd have gone around telling people he was diabetic. But this pump was controlled by a remote, which could dump insulin into Jaz, putting him into a coma.
It was a wickedly clever, diabolical idea. Naturally I presumed it was Benicio's. Turned out it came from Lucas. Proof that as morally upright as he may be, Lucas does have Cortez blood running through his veins.
When everything was ready, we got into an old Mercedes the team had bought at the nearest used-car lot. Jaz drove. Adam and I squeezed into the trunk.
Any other time, I'm sure being curled up together in a trunk would have been deliciously tempting. But we were both too stressed to even joke about it. We spent the short trip testing our communication equipment, which fed to each other, to Jaz, and back to Lucas.
It was only about a mile to the compound gates, but it seemed to take an hour, rumbling along the dirt road. Finally, through the mike we heard Jaz power down his window.
"Hello there, boys," he said. "I bet you didn't think you'd be seeing my handsome face again, did you?"
"Mr. Scott," a young man's voice replied. "We didn't know you were coming."
"No one does, and I trust you'll keep my little secret a few minutes longer? I want to see the old boy's face when I show up."
"Yes, sir. Absolutely, sir. He'll be very pleased."
"I'm sure he will," Jaz said in Scott's smug voice. "Now, if you'll open the garage and let me park this beauty . . ."
They did. Through his open window, we heard the outside guards radio the inside ones to say that Gordon Scott had arrived and it was a surprise for Giles. Then Jaz rolled the Mercedes inside.
"Hello, boys," Jaz said when we were in.
"Hello, sir. You can park right by the van over there."
We knew from my parents' surveillance that one van was parked in the garage, with an open space on the far side. The plan was for Jaz to back the Mercedes into that space so we could hop out, hidden by the van.
"Well, now, boys," Jaz said. "I was hoping I could leave her right here, where you two can keep an eye on her."
I stiffened. Adam clamped a hand over my mouth before I could say anything.
"Um, I'm not sure, sir . . ." one guard said.
"Oh, I'm just joshing you, boy. I'll park her over there by the van."
We waited as he backed it in. Then we cracked open the trunk and confirmed that he'd parked in the right spot.
"Bastard," I whispered.
"Get used to it," Adam said. "He's going to have some fun with us."
As if on cue, we heard Jaz call to the guards. "Hey, boys, do you think you could grab my suitcase out of the trunk?" He waited a beat, then said, "Oh, no, wait. It's here in the backseat."
"Now that he's got us in, we can kill him, right?" I whispered.
"I wish. Just remember, he's hooked up to a death machine. We go down, he goes down."
Which would be a lot more reassuring if we were dealing with a sane man. Knowing Hope was finally within his grasp might be the only thing that kept Jaz from deciding to commit suicide by Cabal and take us along for kicks.
I peeked out of the trunk. Jaz stood there, watching me. I waved for him to look around and give the all clear. He pretended not to understand.
I considered a sensing spell. After all, I was supposed to have my full powers back. Yet I paused before casting, and when I did, I caught the murmur of the guards' voices at a distance. I waved Adam out.
I cast a cover spell on Adam first, to be sure it worked. Aratron said the antimagic ward had been cast only around the perimeter, and Mom's tests supported that, but we needed to be sure. When Adam did disappear, I cast a cover spell on myself.
Then Jaz called, "Actually, I do need help with something in the trunk. Can one of you give me a hand?"
When the guard came, Jaz stuck to the script, leading him to the trunk. "Can you get that for me?"
"Get what?"
The guard leaned into the trunk, squinting to see in the dim light. I cast a binding spell. I was so accustomed to having them fail that I'd already begun a second before I realized the first had worked. Adam injected the guard with a sedative while I held the spell. Then we got him into the trunk. The guy weighed well over two hundred, most of it fat. This was where werewolf strength would have come in handy. Jaz sure as hell wasn't about to help. As we loaded the guard into the trunk, his boot clunked against the side.
"You need help?" the second guard called.
Jaz could have said, no, we were fine. But he just stood there. I zapped the second guard with a binding spell as he came around the car. We sedated him, too. Then we stripped both of their uniforms, bound and gagged them and left them in the trunk, out cold.
Adam walked over to Jaz. He was a few inches taller and about thirty pounds heavier, but Jaz didn't flinch, just stood there, smirking.
"You think it's funny to mess with us?" Adam said.
"Actually, yes."
"Do you know what my power is?"
"Do I care?"
Adam took the car keys from Jaz. He gripped them in his hand. When he opened it, metal dust spilled onto the ground.
"It works with people, too," he said. "Especially useful for body parts. Amputates, cauterizes and destroys the evidence all in one shot. If you screw with us again, Jasper, I'm starting with your fingers." He paused. "Or maybe a small body part that you won't be needing any time soon."
I made a show of turning off my mike and motioning for Adam to do the same. Then I lowered my voice. "Look. We aren't here to fight you, Jaz. If you do this and you get away, that's not my concern. I'm here because I need a cure for my brother. You had a brother, right?"
For the first time since he'd stepped off the jet, genuine emotion flashed across his face. Grief, rage, and pain, quickly reined in.
"Karl killed him, I know," I said. "Believe me, I have no love for that jerk. But I do love my brother. He's all that matters to me here."
Jaz glanced at Adam.
Adam put his arm around my waist. "I want what she wants."
"So cool the games, ok
ay?" I said. "That pump on your side means you're stuck following the script. You might as well make the best of it. Don't blow your chance to get out of here with Hope."
He should have been smart enough to know I was bull-shitting about Hope. But she was his blind spot. Or maybe he just found it easy to believe we'd let an acquaintance be taken against her will if it benefited us. He certainly would.
Adam and I put on the guards' uniforms. They were army surplus, with name tags. Then I cast glamour spells on us.
"I don't think that worked," Jaz said when we were done. "You still look the same to me."
"Because you expect to see us," I said. "The others will expect to see the guards."
He rolled his eyes, smirking slightly at such substandard camouflage powers. I pushed him toward the door to the bunker.
Despite what I'd said to Jaz, I wasn't completely convinced that the glamour spell had worked. The test came quickly. The stairs led down to a secured entrance guarded by two more young men. Jaz pulled Scott's cheerful-condescending routine. They barely looked at us, but they did look, which proved that we passed.
We expected them to say something about us leaving our posts. But Clay had said that these were just kids. More like hall monitors than trained guards. He was right. They let us through without comment.
We did, however, hit a snag of another kind--the "hall monitor" just inside the secured doors.
"I'm going to have to call Giles," she said. "No one's allowed past without a card." She glowered at us. "You guys know the rules."
"It's a surprise, gorgeous," Jaz said. He gave her his lazy, sexy Jaz smile, which I'm sure would have worked a lot better if he didn't look like Gordon Scott, late fifties, pot belly and jowls.
Adam tried charm, too, but his "guy" was about nineteen, chubby, with acne. My "guy" was much cuter, so I tried a sexy smile, but probably looked like I had indigestion.
Damn it. We'd been so close. Now we needed to take all three out before anyone called for help.
I glanced at Adam. He nodded. We could do this. He motioned for me to focus on the girl while he took the guards behind him. I started whispering a binding--
"Hey, Nina," someone said as the door behind the girl opened. "Do you know--?"
Two guys walked in, a young woman behind them. They stopped when they saw Scott.
"Mr. Scott," one of the guys said. "Damn, Giles is going to be happy to see you. Does he know you're coming?"