Yes, I thought fiercely. Because I’ll tell them who they really are and all about the world they’ll be able to live in…if they’re brave enough to leave this place.
I had to hope I hadn’t misjudged them, that they’d be able to save themselves when the time came.
And that I’d be able to save myself.
11
Because of the time difference, they didn’t have to plan the raid for the middle of the night Flagstaff time. No, Connor and Jake decided that eleven o’clock should work just fine, since that would make it two in the morning in Alexandria.
“Hopefully, that means we’ll be more on our game,” Connor said. He set down the color laser-jet printout of the image from Addie’s room, and Angela picked it up so she could study it once more.
“Yep, now that Miranda’s three, we’re kind of out of the habit of being up at all hours of the night,” she said with a grin. “My biggest problem will be staying awake until midnight or whatever. These days, we crash pretty early since the kids get us up at o’dark thirty.”
“I doubt you’re going to have too much trouble staying alert,” Lucas put in. They were all gathered at the dining room table in his showplace of a house in University Heights, since Angela and Connor had brought their kids over to spend the night. Ian and Emily and Miranda had been thrilled at the prospect, since they loved coming over to spend time with their cousin Mia. “Considering you’re about to teleport into a secret government facility.”
“Well, there’s that,” Angela said. Her big green eyes were sparkling; Jake could tell Lucas was a favorite of hers. Then again, Lucas was pretty much a favorite of everyone. He just had that knack with people.
Margot entered the room, a plate full of fun, snacky hors d’oeuvres in one hand. “Last-minute fortifications,” she announced. “And the kids are finally asleep, so try not to make too much noise down here.”
“We’ll be silent as the grave,” Lucas promised, then added, as Margot gave him a truly epic side-eye, “Sorry…bad choice of words.”
“It’s going to be pretty simple,” Jake said, figuring he’d better try to smooth things over…especially since it was his girlfriend who needed rescuing. Could he even call Addie his girlfriend? It seemed like such a trite phrase for the woman who’d suddenly become his entire world.
He supposed when you felt that way about someone, the exact words involved didn’t matter so much.
Margot lifted an eyebrow as she set down the plate, and he went on, “I mean, Connor and Angela know exactly where they’re going, and they teleport so fast that even if they’re picked up on the facility’s security cameras, no one will get there in enough time to do anything about it.”
“And Jeremy’s back at Trident HQ, ready to jam those cameras so there’s no chance they can get a good look at any of our faces,” Connor added. He picked up a mini quiche and popped it in his mouth. “It’s going to be totally surgical, Margot.”
“So you’ve said.” None of those reassurances seemed to have mollified her; she had her hands on her hips and was frowning. “That doesn’t mean I like it.”
“You don’t have to like it,” Lucas said reasonably. He, too, grabbed a quiche, but he waited to take a bite so he could add, “You just have to not say no.”
“I already told you I wouldn’t say no,” she returned. “I just don’t like it.”
“I don’t, either,” Angela said. “But we can’t leave one of our own behind. That’s not how any of the witch clans operate.”
Margot’s lips pressed together, but she didn’t protest. After all, what Angela had said was only the truth — clans stuck together and looked out for their own. Otherwise, there was far too great a chance of their existence being discovered, putting them all at risk.
“Besides,” Lucas said, “the whole reason I’m going along is to make sure that nothing goes wrong. So sit down and have a snack, Margot. It’s going to be fine.”
For a moment, she didn’t reply, only stood there looking uncertain, which was definitely not Margot’s usual demeanor. Then she let out a sigh and went ahead and sat down next to her husband. He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. In response, she shook her head…but she also reached for a miniature pig in a blanket, seeming to signal that she’d given up the argument for the time being.
“Is there anything else we need to be watching for?” Angela asked. “I mean, the images off the security cameras make it seem as if the room where Addie is being kept is pretty normal, but for all we know, these people have all sorts of extra security measures in place.”
“I don’t think so,” Jake replied. That was one thing he could feel fairly confident about, considering the way he and Jeremy had spent the last twenty-four hours scrutinizing every square inch of Addie’s prison suite as revealed by the security camera footage. “I suppose there’s always a chance we’ve overlooked something, but other than the surveillance system and the biometric locks on the door, the place pretty much looks like a normal condo. After all, they’re not going to do anything that might endanger a prize specimen like Addie.”
While he hated to think of her like that, Jake knew he had to look at the situation the way Randall Lenz would. And although they had standard security measures in place, it wasn’t as if they’d have her suite set up to belch out poison gas or something at the first sign of an intruder. Anyway, the raid was going to happen so quickly that no one at the SED would even have time to react.
Angela gave a thoughtful nod, and picked up a mini quiche and took a bite. “Well, that’s good to know. At least we don’t have to worry about any kind of wards or traps set out to catch witches and warlocks.”
“I’m sure Agent Lenz doesn’t believe in witches,” Connor remarked. “Which is kind of ironic, considering he’s holding a bunch of them captive right now. But honestly, I don’t care what he believes in. The important thing is that he won’t see us coming, and he won’t know where we’ve taken Addie. It’s going to seem like she’s vanished into thin air.”
Which was exactly the outcome they wanted. Since Angela and Connor had erased all his memories from the time when Jake showed up at Addie’s house in Kanab to the time when Lenz awoke alone in a motel room in that same town five days later, there wasn’t any way for him to connect her to the Wilcoxes in Flagstaff.
Or so they all fervently hoped.
“Vanishing into thin air is pretty much exactly what’s going to happen,” Jake said. He glanced down at his phone, which he’d left lying on the tabletop. Ten fifty-two. Almost time.
God, he wished he was going along. He wanted to be the one to wake Addie, to bend down and let her know help had arrived. But since that wasn’t feasible, he was just glad that Angela and Connor would be there. She knew them, would probably be glad to see that her brother had come to rescue her.
“Getting close,” Connor said. He glanced over at Lucas. “You’re going to teleport with me, since it’ll be easier for me to move someone who’s heavier.”
“Hey,” Lucas said, looking offended. “Who’re you calling heavy?”
“Relatively heavier,” Angela told him. Her lips twitched with amusement. “That’s why I’ll be teleporting back with Addie. Our weights are closer.”
“Ah,” Lucas said. “Glad you’re not accusing me of getting chubby in my old age.”
“Not yet,” Margot said crisply, an amused lift at the corner of her mouth. “Good thing you’ve been playing plenty of golf lately.”
His brows drew together, as if he was working through her remark and attempting to see whether there had been a backhanded insult buried in there somewhere. Then he gave a philosophical shrug and reached for another mini quiche, dark eyes glinting at his wife as if challenging her to comment on his snack choices.
However, she seemed to have decided it wasn’t worth teasing him on the subject any longer, because she reached for a quiche of her own and took a bite. “You’re sure it’s not going to be jarring for Addie to be br
ought back here, a place she’s never seen before?”
“It’ll be fine,” Jake said. “I’ll be here, and she’ll be with Connor and Angela.” He’d already hashed this over with the primus; Connor had suggested that Jake wait at his own house and that he and Angela would bring Addie there, but Jake shot down the plan. There was no way in hell he was going to sit alone at his place, not knowing what was going on. Better to wait here with Margot. At least he wouldn’t be by himself, even if Margot Wilcox wasn’t exactly the most comforting person in the world. “And I’ll take her home right away.”
Those words seemed to satisfy Margot; she nodded and reached for her glass of water, then took a sip.
The alarm on Jake’s phone went off, and he quickly shut it down. “Eleven,” he said unnecessarily.
Connor and Angela looked at each other, and they both rose from the table at almost the same time. Lucas got up as well, his expression not one of worry or resignation, as might have been expected, but almost eagerness. It seemed he was looking at this rescue mission as just another adventure to be experienced.
Well, with any luck, it wouldn’t be an adventure, but instead just a quick trip, no complications, there and back and nothing more…and luck was the entire reason why he was there in the first place.
“Ready?” Connor asked, and both Angela and Lucas murmured a quick assent.
Connor grasped Lucas’ hand, and Angela took her husband’s free one. Her eyes caught Jake’s for just a second, and she offered him an encouraging smile.
“Back before you know it,” she said, and then the three of them were gone.
Margot pushed the plate of hors d’oeuvres toward Jake and shot him a weary smile. “Might as well eat something,” she told him. “If all goes well, they’ll be back before you’ve even finished chewing.”
He picked up a bit of puff pastry stuffed with feta. “I’ll eat to that.”
A quick, worried nod, and then they both settled down to wait.
Randall Lenz had felt restless all evening. Why, he couldn’t really say, because if Dr. Richards’ reports were correct — and he had no reason to believe they weren’t — everything seemed to have gone very well that day. Adara Grant’s weather-control experiment with Dr. Woodrow had surpassed everyone’s expectations, and she appeared to have spent a pleasant day after that, socializing with the rest of the test subjects before it was time for her to return to her suite and settle down for the night.
Absolutely nothing had occurred to cause the unease which prickled the back of his neck, that made him pick up his phone and inspect it multiple times in case he’d overlooked an important message. However, there were no missed calls or texts, and even when he checked the email on his home computer, rather than his work laptop, he didn’t see anything more urgent than an email from his mother reminding him that he needed to RSVP for his cousin Theresa’s wedding no later than the end of next week.
He shook his head, then sent off a quick reply saying that he doubted he’d be able to get away from D.C., but that he’d send a gift and his congratulations. The same back-and-forth they’d shared far too many times over the years, even though Barbara Lenz never seemed willing to admit defeat and accept that her son had no intention of attending family festivities. He tried to go back to New York once a year, either at Thanksgiving or at Christmas, but otherwise, his work kept him in the D.C. area.
That duty handled, he got up from his desk and wandered through the house, fingers kneading the back of his neck as he tried to ignore the low-grade headache that had been plaguing him most of the day. By that point, he was almost used to never feeling quite in tiptop shape, to always having some sort of strange ache or twinge present no matter what he did. The doctors said he should be getting past the worst of it, but Lenz wasn’t sure he believed them.
Eventually, he came to the couch in the family room and sat down, more because he didn’t know what else to do with himself. He rarely watched television, but he picked up the remote anyway and turned on the TV, thinking perhaps he’d catch a bit of the evening news. An exercise in futility, probably, since he knew better than most how filtered and carefully censored that news actually was, but the sound of other people’s voices helped to fill some of the silence in the house. It was a large Colonial-style home that would have been better suited to a growing family than a single man who was rarely there; he’d bought the place because he wanted something close to work, and the house was a steal because the people selling it were going through a nasty divorce and needed to unload it — and their expensive mortgage — as quickly as possible. More than once, Lenz had wondered if he should sell it as well and move to a more manageable condo, but he’d never gotten around to committing to such a course of action.
At any rate, watching the news and the late night program that came on afterward didn’t seem to help much. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d overlooked something vitally important, even though he mentally revisited his day multiple times and reassured himself that there didn’t seem to be anything out of place.
The late night show wound up, and the late late show came on after that. He turned off the television and got up from the sofa, knowing that if he didn’t go to bed soon, he’d pay for it the next day. Many times, he’d been forced to function on only three or four hours of sleep, but such a situation wasn’t optimal. Besides, there was no emergency keeping him awake now, only the sensation that something had gone awry in the world, even if he couldn’t put his finger on what it might be.
He brushed his teeth, splashed water on his face, and headed toward the walk-in closet so he could get out of his dress trousers and shirt — he’d hung up his coat and tie when he’d gotten home hours earlier — and found himself stopping dead in the middle of his bedroom.
You need to go in to work.
The disembodied voice in his head didn’t sound like himself. No, that voice sounded almost like his father, brisk and authoritative. A voice he hadn’t heard for nearly twenty years.
Now you’re hearing things? Lenz mocked himself, but he knew that wasn’t quite the case. No, it was more that he’d heard his father’s voice because he was more likely to pay attention to it than he might to his own.
Go in to work, though? Why?
Something was wrong…or at least, his brain had somehow latched on to the notion that something might be wrong. Which didn’t make any sense. If any of the test subjects had suffered some sort of mishap, then the guards on duty would have reached out to him immediately. Anyway, it was the middle of the night, and they should all be safely in their beds, even Lorna Johnson, who was an insomniac and often got up in the middle of the night to read for a while in the hope that doing so would make her drowsy enough to go back to sleep.
Well, it couldn’t hurt to make a call, just to be safe. Lenz reached for his phone but then paused.
Don’t call. Go.
And what a fool he’d be making of himself, to show up in the dead of night, acting on a hunch he couldn’t explain.
Then again, his hunches had gotten him out of sticky situations more than once. He’d be tempting fate to ignore this one, especially since it had come on so strong.
No point in bothering with a tie, but he slipped his suit jacket back on and put his cell phone in his pocket. Back downstairs, and through the door in the kitchen that led to the garage. Inside was a dark gray Audi RS 5 coupe, his one true indulgence. Right then, however, he wasn’t thinking about the growl of the engine or the way the leather seat cushioned his body, but only of how quickly the powerful car could get him from his home to the SED facility, not quite three miles away.
He didn’t have to worry about being stopped — or rather, he knew if he was stopped by local law enforcement, one flash of his Homeland Security badge would send him on his way. However, even a quick traffic stop would slow him more than he wanted, and so he did his best not to exceed the speed limit by more than ten miles an hour. Soon enough, he was approaching the guard shack at th
e entrance to the facility. He didn’t recognize the man on duty, but clearly, the man recognized him, because he got a startled, “Evening, sir!” and was waved on through the gate without even having to reach for his I.D.
At that hour, the parking lot was nearly deserted. Lenz pulled into his designated parking space and hurried out of the car, barely breaking his stride as he came through the entrance and offered a curt greeting to the two men sitting at the front desk. They, too, looked surprised to see him there, but they knew enough not to ask any questions, but only nodded and gave him a “good evening, Agent Lenz” as he sailed past.
His office was located on Subfloor Two. Nothing amiss there; not that he’d expected there to be. He picked up the phone and contacted Conrad Ostrow, the chief analyst on duty during the overnight shift.
“Anything to report?” he asked.
“No, sir,” Ostrow replied, doing his best to sound brisk, although Lenz could almost hear the questions in the other man’s voice. “All quiet. Is something the matter?”
“No,” he replied. “At least, not that I’m aware of. I just came in to follow up on something.”
He hung up then, and turned on his office desktop computer. It woke up and requested his login and credentials. Once he was in the system, he brought up the feed from the security cameras, figuring that was as good a place to start as any.
The cameras showed quiet corridors, unoccupied elevators. Each of the test subjects was asleep in his or her bed — yes, even Lorna Johnson, who had an e-reader parked on her bedside table but who appeared to be down for the count. There was absolutely nothing here to support the hunch that had brought him back to the SED, to tell him that the strange feelings of unease he’d been experiencing all evening were anything more than generalized anxiety with absolutely no basis in reality.
Except —
The feed shifted to the view from inside Adara Grant’s bedroom, and he watched in shocked disbelief as three strangers materialized out of nowhere to stand by her bed. One of them, a woman, leaned down to shake her awake.
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