The bat stopped performing and hovered in front of Keiko, staring at her with the same look Mace imagined was on his face: one of utter shock.
Her finger shook as she pointed at the bat. “Shoo! Get back where you belong. Right this minute.”
The bat seemed confused, and then Mace felt it smile. She worry about me.
Mace glared at the bat. No, she doesn’t.
It wasn’t listening. It fluttered around Keiko’s head before settling on his shoulder, crawling under his shirt, and merging with him. It also flooded his mind with all the insects it’d eaten. Asshole.
Keiko’s eyes stayed glued to the path the bat had taken. Before Mace could guess what she’d do next, she stalked behind him, pulled down his shirt, and addressed the bat.
“You stay right there until we’re out of this mess, you hear?”
A strange, unfamiliar warmth seeped through him at her words, and he found his throat had tightened a little when he went to talk. “I don’t know why you’re bothering. I need to call it back out when we go downstairs. It has to cover the camera so I can get close to the security hub.”
“And then it goes straight back on you,” she ordered him and the bat.
I like her, the bat cooed.
This summed up his life. His other half wouldn’t listen to him, but he would listen to Keiko. Hoo-fucking-rah for him.
She came around to face him, and she was furious. “It is totally irresponsible of you to let the bat out when it makes you vulnerable. What were you thinking? All anyone needs to do to take you out is attack the bat. Don’t do it again.”
“I don’t exactly have a choice in the matter.” His lack of control over the bat, considering he had the smallest animal on his team, was humiliating.
“You’re bigger than he is. Take control. Stop putting the two of you in danger. I’m serious, Mace. This is stupid. You can’t let the bat off your body again.”
He shook his head and glared down at the angry woman. He was about to tell her what she could do with her orders when it occurred to him that she was trying to protect him. That she was angry at him for taking risks with his life. The wonder of it stole his words from him and left him shocked. Outside of his team and his sister, had anyone ever worried about his welfare? Even then, his team had no problem sending him into situations that risked his life. Which was fine—he was capable of taking care of himself and of everyone around him. Yet here he was, being stared down by a woman who barely made it to the middle of his chest and having her tell him that he mattered, too.
It was too much to process. How could he ever let her walk out of his life? The answer was he couldn’t. He would do everything he could to keep hold of her. She was it for him. He knew it. He belonged to her.
Mate, a smug voice purred in his brain. Our mate.
A sudden suspicion turned his legs to jelly, and he had to lock them in place to stop from falling on his ass. His bat sounded too smug. As though he’d done something to secure Keiko’s position in their lives. And Mace had a horrible feeling he knew what.
Did you bite Keiko? Out on the ledge?
She’s our mate, came the smug answer.
Did you bite her? Mace demanded.
Mate, the bat purred. Had to bite to get my mate.
Fuck.
He ran a hand through his hair when what he really wanted to do was roar. Striker’s snake had bitten Friday, and a tiny matching snake had developed on her skin. Was his bat trying to achieve the same thing with Keiko? He had to know. He reached for the neck of her chopped silver dress and pulled it down.
“Hey, what are you doing? Now isn’t the time to get frisky.” She batted his hand away.
But it was too late. He’d seen what he needed to see. There, on the back of her shoulder, were the telltale teeth marks of a small bat. The air left him, and Mace bent double. He’d never passed out in his life, and now wasn’t the time to start.
“Mace,” Keiko snapped. “Don’t make me slap you.”
She would, too. He pushed the situation into a box in the back of his mind. He’d deal with it later. Once they were out of there. If they got out of there.
“I’m okay.” He stood tall, took a deep breath, and focused. They had to deal with the hub. “Let’s get out of here. We need to take out those camera feeds.”
Her hand curled around his arm to stop him. “Are you going to explain what just happened?”
No.
Never.
“It’s nothing.”
He could have sworn his bat was laughing at him.
“Mace?” She looked like she was getting ready to strike out. So much for keeping her violent streak under control.
“I’ll explain everything later. But right now, we need to get out of here. And we need to concentrate on what we’re doing. We can’t afford any mistakes. Mistakes will get you killed.”
Without another word, Mace turned toward the door.
Save mate, the bat whispered in his mind.
Asshole, Mace replied.
Chapter Thirty-One
They managed to make it all the way down the stairs without incident or argument. It was a miracle.
“Stay here,” Mace told Keiko. “Right here.” He pointed at the spot to ensure she got the message.
“Right here,” she repeated.
“I mean it. You can’t move from here. You have a habit of wandering off when I put you somewhere. Now isn’t the time to do it again.”
“When we get out of here, I’m going to explain how many things are wrong with what you just said, but right now, I’ll stand in this spot until you’re done.”
He still wasn’t convinced, and it must have shown on his face, because she rolled her eyes at him and gave him a shove to get him going.
“Go do your thing, but be safe about it,” she said.
Mace nodded and turned away, hoping that she’d do as she was told, for once.
I go protect her, the bat said, making everything worse.
Mace snorted. You can’t protect anybody.
I am the fiercest of my species.
He’d offended the rodent. Color him remorseful. You’re a two-inch flying rat, that’s what you are. Now get out there and cover that camera.
For my mate. Not you.
The bat separated from him with a snap. He circled Mace once, crapped on his shoulder, then flew off to cover the camera. Mace growled at his other half while, behind him, Keiko smothered a giggle.
As soon as the bat was in place, he blocked him from his mind and focused on his task—clearing the security hub, eliminating the cameras, and getting out of the building before Enforcement returned and launched an attack.
In his mind, the bat nodded in agreement. Keep mate safe.
Shut up. I have to concentrate.
He heard a huff in his head, but there was no more chitchat.
Mace crept up to the doors of the security hub and listened. He could hear the hum of high-frequency communication and the low murmur of voices. But he needed more. He needed to know exactly how many people were in that room and where they were positioned. Otherwise, going in there would be a death sentence.
He opened his mouth and let out a series of high-pitched echolocation pulses that were beyond the normal range of human hearing. The sounds spread out in front of him, bouncing off every object in their path. As he changed their frequency and duration, images began to form in his mind. Like a grainy black-and-white photo, the images didn’t show detail, but they gave him plenty of useful information. They told him there were five people in the room, two of them dead on the floor, as they weren’t moving enough to indicate breathing. Of the living, two sat in front of a wall—the security screens, he presumed. A fifth person was pacing, carrying a large object. From the dimensions, Mace would say it was a rifle like the one he held in his hands.
He continued his echolocation until he’d mapped the entire security hub. He knew that to Keiko it must have looked as though he was just standi
ng, staring at the doors. She, like the people inside the room, wouldn’t have heard the sounds he was making, and no doubt she’d grill him about it later, and he’d get to share more about his freaky life.
Don’t forget to look up. The bat had obviously been monitoring Mace’s efforts.
Although the flying rodent irritated him no end, he wasn’t so arrogant he’d dismiss the advice of a sonar expert. He sent sound waves up toward the ceiling of the room, too. And was glad he’d listened to the advice. There was some sort of mezzanine level in the room, and one more person was standing up there, armed, presumably looking out over the room. Another guard. One he would have missed if he hadn’t listened to the bat. And that was not something he was ever going to share with it.
I’m in your head, the bat helpfully reminded him. You’re welcome.
Gritting his teeth, Mace did one more sweep of the room. Once he was sure he had it mapped, he took a deep, steadying breath. This was what he was built for, trained for. This was who he was. Who he’d been destined to be from birth—a cold, calm killer, just like his father. But, unlike his father, Mace wasn’t evil, despite what his grandfather said. Armed with his gun, he exploded through the door with only one objective.
Four men.
Four shots.
Eliminate the threat.
It was over in seconds. And all four members of Freedom lay dead on the floor. He supposed he should have felt something at the loss of life. Mainly, he felt glad that it was them instead of him. He poked his head out of the door and summoned Keiko, who was standing, staring wide-eyed at the security hub.
To her credit, she didn’t hesitate—she just ran toward him. “Is it over? Are they gone? Is it safe?”
He nodded. “There are bodies. Be prepared.”
“How can I prepare myself, exactly?”
“I don’t know. Just don’t look.”
“Helpful,” she muttered.
“Always.” He flashed her a grin. “You ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
His heart softened at her determination and courage. “I wouldn’t ask you to come in, but I need your fingernails to access the system.” He frowned. “At least, I think I do.”
Her lips twitched. “Friday’s right. You really are clueless when it comes to tech.”
“Friday is a pain in my ass, that’s what Friday is.” The last thing he wanted was for Keiko to side with his nemesis. The world wouldn’t be safe. “Stay beside me and try not to look at the bodies. But if you do see them, don’t vomit.”
“I’ll try.”
“Appreciated.” He held the door open for her.
She hesitated but stepped inside, keeping her head up and her eyes glued to him. He wanted to say good girl, but it would just earn him another lecture on being sexist. Instead, he assessed the room. It was a large space, with a wall of screens split to show views from cameras positioned throughout the building. One screen showed the terrorists on the sixty-sixth floor. There were more of them than he’d expected. It was a small army, jittery with nerves and the expectation of violence. Another of the screens showed the front entrance to the building—it was full of Enforcement and CommTECH security.
“That’s a lot of Enforcement agents.”
“That’s what’s left now that the rest of them are running all over the city, dealing with the diversions Striker arranged for them.”
“I don’t see how we’re going to get past them.”
“I have a plan for that. But first, I need you to stick your fingernail in the control panel and bring up every camera that’s still functioning. I want to see what’s going on before I blow the system.”
He wanted to know exactly what he was up against in getting Keiko out of those front doors and into the hands of his team.
…
Keiko heard Mace, but her focus was on the screens. On the Freedom soldiers as they casually stepped over the dead bodies scattered across the terrace as though they were nothing more than debris in their paths. She was irrationally glad that the camera didn’t show Abigail’s body; she wasn’t sure she could have coped with that. But there were still so many lost lives that it was overwhelming to witness. She stilled, and her breathing became shallow as realization hit her.
She was standing in a room full of the bodies of people who, just minutes ago, were walking and talking and planning for their futures.
Just. Like. Abigail.
Before she could stop herself, her eyes searched for the dead. A man was slumped over a chair at the desk. Another lay at his feet. A third hung over the mezzanine rail, his arms dangling like some forgotten doll someone had discarded there. Two uniformed security team members lay sprawled on the floor, where Freedom had gunned them down. It was a death chamber. She was standing in a death chamber.
Her eyes flew to Mace. He stood, legs apart and arms folded, studying the screens—completely oblivious to the carnage around him. Her heartbeat accelerated. Her breathing became shallow and choppy. She wasn’t like Mace. This wasn’t her world. She wasn’t equipped to deal with this. Her eyes drifted back to the screens, where she could just make out the body of one of the dead scientists.
Abigail was still up there. She was lying lifeless, just one more piece of debris in a war that she would never have understood. Keiko’s eyes went back to the bodies in the room. No. Not bodies. Men who had families, friends, loved ones. People like her. People who’d been left behind because they’d been killed in such a pointless way. People who would have to deal with their deaths for years to come.
Just like she would with Abigail.
She pressed a hand to her stomach as it became hard to breathe. Her fingers tingled, and a strange, tight sensation constricted her throat. Death. Violence. Danger. It was all around her. Swallowing her. Taking her down with it. Into hell.
She took a step back. Ready to run. To flee—and never look back. The only thing that kept her there was Mace. Her eyes were glued to him, as though he were the only life raft in the storm that was swamping her.
Slowly she became aware of a new sensation. A warmth pooling around her bare feet. A stickiness under her toes. As though a part of her brain already knew what she would find, she didn’t want to look down. But she had to. Slowly, oh so slowly, her eyes made their way to her feet. And the closer they got to their target, the more her focus narrowed. Until all she could see was the blood oozing between her toes.
She was standing in a pool of someone else’s blood.
A strange rushing sound filled her ears. The world became unstable. As though the ground itself was roiling beneath her.
Blood.
Red. Sticky. Thick.
Congealed. The word sprang into her mind as though coming from far, far away.
The red blood oozed up between her toes to meet the red polish she’d used for her birthday. The polish she hadn’t been able to remove because she’d been held against her will in the hotel. The polish that now mocked her. Telling her she was frivolous. That she cared about shallow things when all around her people were dying. When Abigail had been dying. The world was being painted red with blood. By Freedom. By CommTECH.
Red. Red. Red. Red…
The word echoed through her body, growing, spreading until it had taken her over completely. There was nothing else. Only the red, red blood. In her mind, she saw it seep over her toes, her feet, her ankles. It was coming to get her, to swallow her whole. To take her down into the same hell as the body that should have contained it.
It was impossible to move. To run. To call for help. All she could do was stand there and watch as the blood consumed her alive.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“Are you listening to me?” Mace said. “We don’t have time to screw around. I need you to stick your magic fingernail into the panel and disable the system.”
His jaw clenched as he watched Enforcement surround the building. There may have been fewer of them now, but that didn’t mean they were any less trapped. No
matter how much he stared at the surveillance footage, he couldn’t see an escape route. He needed to change the camera angles. And for that, he needed Keiko.
“Keiko, get your ass over here.”
With a frown, he turned to see what was holding her up. She’d better not be getting into stuff she shouldn’t. The woman needed a keeper. She caused problems wherever she went, poking her nose in all over the place, taking on people who were twice her size. She had no sense of self-preservation, she…
Fuck.
She was standing in a pool of blood. The body of a dead Freedom fighter lay beside her. Her eyes were glued to her feet, her bare feet, covered in someone else’s blood. She was frozen. Staring. Barely breathing. Trapped in the moment.
He covered the distance between them in the blink of an eye. He’d seen this before, on the battlefield. She was in shock. Her system overwhelmed by the horror she’d encountered.
There was no time to waste. He picked her up and ran, kicking open doors until he found a restroom. Sitting her on the wide black ceramic benchtop beside the sink, he waved his hand for warm water. Keiko stared blankly into space, her mind stuck on whatever horror movie was playing inside her head.
“Hey, princess, come back to me.” There was no response. He wanted to roar, but he kept his voice gentle and his movements nonthreatening.
Brushing her silky hair back from where it’d fallen over her face, he tucked it behind her ear and let his fingers find the pulse in her throat. It was racing out of control. Her pale, almost translucent skin was ice-cold to his touch. He shrugged out of his shirt and wrapped it around her before it lost its warmth. Her breathing was shallow and fast. If it didn’t slow, she’d hyperventilate.
“Keiko, baby, I need you to focus on me.” He kept his tone soft and soothing, when he wanted to shout and rail.
There was no response.
Her pupils were enlarged, her eyes glassy and unfocused. Wherever she was, she was stuck there. His stomach twisted tight, and his hands shook as he picked up a soft cotton hand towel from the folded pile beside the sink. Recalling everything he’d gleaned about shock during his time in the army, he knew he had to calm her, ease her heart rate, slow her breathing, and keep her warm.
Red Awakening (Red Zone) Page 21