Her eyes closed briefly, serenity overcoming her perfect features as she swung her arm backward, slicing through Harlow’s throat in less than a second, and ran.
He fired again and again, not hitting her once. Adelaide would be caught, but right now he needed to focus on trying to save a man’s life.
Voices filled the silence of the warehouse, growing louder the closer they got.
He couldn’t uphold his promise anymore.
Adelaide was on her own.
* * *
The alley passed in a blur as she ran between the warehouses. Police vehicles surrounded the area and Adelaide’s only hope of escape led her to the roof.
She ran with the agility she’d trained for over the years, and for now she stayed in control. The monster had had its fun, leaving her to deal with the consequences.
Slowing her run, she turned toward the fire escapes of an apartment building and climbed up hastily. Just as two officers rounded the corner of the warehouse, she forced herself onto the roof.
Adelaide didn’t know how long Marcus had watched her from the shadows but knew he hadn’t purposefully missed when he shot at her. The flash of light she’d seen from across the warehouse had to be a cell phone. It hadn’t been a coincidence the police showed up less than two minutes later.
Don’t worry, the monster said, running beside her. We always punish the traitors.
She ran blind across the rooftops and collided with a vent. It didn’t hurt. Adrenaline made sure of that, but she’d feel it later and the mistake slowed her retreat.
“She’s on the roof!” voices shouted up from the ground, and the officers steered their flashlights upward.
There, her monster said, pointing out a chimney just big enough for her to fit down. As fast as you can.
She ran, pulling herself up the brick siding and straight down into darkness. She fell without knowing whether she’d survive or not, but death seemed better than prison. The ground rushed up to meet her, her legs taking most of the shock. She rolled out of the fireplace and into darkness.
Ash clung to her skin. It clouded her vision, and after rubbing her eyes it grew worse. She tried to steer herself toward the kitchen, feeling the layout of the apartment with her hands. She relaxed at the feel of cold steel and found a faucet.
The water felt nice against her face, and when she could finally see, Adelaide noticed the water running down the sink was tinted with more than ash.
Harlow’s blood.
Her hands.
She stared at them, trying to remember every detail of the last few hours.
It was perfect, her monster sang. Just what I needed for a bit of closure. Now we can move on.
Adelaide had forgiven Harlow, but she wasn’t strong enough to handle her own monster. Exhaustion pulled her down. Pathetic. Weak. Flashes of the knife sliding across his throat forced a numbness through her body that she’d never felt before.
No guilt. No remorse.
The idea scared the shit out of her.
Harlow’s death had been meant to free her and she’d failed.
Turning the water off, she dried her face on a hand towel next to the sink and exhaled in relief. She was safe for the time being. She moved into the living room, tracing the furniture with her fingertips and wondering if she’d ever have a place of her own, with furniture like this. She smiled at the thought.
The apartment’s front door slammed open.
“Don’t move!” a voice said, followed by a rush of movement.
She could hardly see, the apartment was too dark and the ash too thick to completely wash off. Adelaide froze, counting the number of footsteps surrounding her.
“Now put your hands behind your head!” another voice shouted.
She wasn’t sure how to proceed. She needed to get out of there, to run with what she’d stashed, but she counted too many of them.
They surrounded her.
“Do it!” the voice demanded and moved into the moonlight. An overweight man with a handlebar mustache pointed a gun directly at her head. His uniform told her she’d become a prime suspect in ATF’s eyes and she wondered if Marcus knew him. The agent held his weapon with one hand and a pair of cuffs in the other, slowly making his way closer.
She felt claustrophobic as the footsteps grew closer. Her breathing grew rapid, her skin crawling with goose bumps. She’d never been caught before. Fear gripped her hard. Her mind registered eight men in the room, all with guns and ready to shoot at the first chance they got. Her monster screamed louder than ever before.
Get out! it shrieked directly into her ear, willing her to do something, to fight back.
Adelaide moved her hands to cover her ears in hopes of drowning out the sound, but disappointment weighed heavily in her chest. The voice had always been inside her head.
“Hands behind your head,” the fat man ordered, his voice slightly lower with her hands over her ears.
Her mind went blank, refusing to fall into her safe haven, and she couldn’t bring herself out of the shock she felt. She pulled her hands behind her head, lacing her bloody fingers together.
“Down on your knees!” he shouted, and Adelaide complied. Gripping one of her wrists, the agent pulled her hand to her lower back, placing a cuff on her as he moved for the other. “Adelaide Banvard, you are under arrest for the murder of Harlow Vicente. You have the right to remain silent . . .”
The words didn’t register. The life she’d been forced to live pulled her down, made her compliant. Being sentenced to prison warranted death, but for who, Adelaide didn’t know.
Chapter Twenty-two
Christian watched her behind the one-way glass, careful not to let Adelaide discover his presence. The room he occupied remained dark, giving him a clear view into the other side.
She’d paled since the last time he’d seen her. Keeping her eyes glued to the table in front of her, Adelaide had perfected her emotionless expression and he could only guess what went on inside her mind.
There wasn’t any way to communicate with her.
“How long does she have to stay cuffed?” he asked Captain Howard.
The captain watched Adelaide with her arms crossed. “Tell me,” she started, “what makes her so special?”
“Not now, Beth.” Christian moved closer to the glass, placing his hand against it.
“She’ll stay as long as I want her to.” With that, the captain took a seat on the other side of the room. “One of our agents is going to question her in about three minutes. Until then, she stays cuffed.”
Christian exhaled in frustration. He squinted into the adjoining room, trying to decipher the words Adelaide mumbled to herself. There would be no sound, but even her inner conversations kept him on guard.
Less than two minutes later, the interrogation room door opened. A large man, two hundred plus pounds, with short brown hair and a mustache entered, keeping his eyes on his suspect.
Adelaide didn’t move, didn’t even seem to register the man’s presence.
“Can we hear them?” Christian asked, looking at Beth over his shoulder.
She pointed to the control panel beside the glass.
Turning the knob on the left side, Christian waited. If he hadn’t been able to get any answers from her, perhaps this ATF agent could when he threatened a prison sentence. Adelaide had never been held in an interrogation room before and curiosity sparked when he imagined how she’d handle the situation.
“My name is Agent Needle,” the overweight man said, taking a seat across the table from Adelaide. “Now, I’ve heard you are mute of your own free will and choice, but we’re not going to get anywhere if you won’t talk to me.”
Christian turned to Beth. “You know she won’t say a word, don’t you?”
She nodded, watching him closely. “That’s not my problem.”
“It’s not going to do anybody any good keeping her here. You won’t get an answer.”
“Tell me why you’ve chosen her over me.
” Beth stood as she crossed her arms over her chest.
Christian ignored her, turning back toward the glass. He didn’t have time for these games.
Beth’s heels clicked against the tile floor as she made her way beside him. “She can’t even talk, Christian. You know I would never do that to you.”
“Not now, Beth,” he repeated between gritted teeth.
Wrapping her slim fingers around his bicep, Beth turned him toward her. “If not now, then when?”
He pushed his expression to show she’d meant nothing to him, that he’d used her as a means to an end.
Beth’s face fell, her eyes darting to the floor as she shook her head gently with a smile. “I should have known.” She stepped away without another word and Christian felt the disappointment radiating from her body. He didn’t care.
He wasn’t here for her.
“So what’s it like to murder someone?” the agent asked. “I’ve heard you’re quite good at what you do.” He paused. “That it’s easier after the first.”
Christian flipped open his phone, found the number he needed and hit the call button. When the line on the other end picked up, he didn’t bother with a greeting. “Where the hell are you?” He listened closely, his patience running thin. “You’re her lawyer. I don’t care what you’re doing with your family. Get your ass down here in the next ten minutes or look forward to never seeing your family again.” Slamming the phone closed, he turned on Beth, his fingers digging into her forearms as he pulled her closer. “Get her out of there.”
“Why?” Beth asked, her eyes determined, expression grim.
“Because you don’t know what she’s capable of.” He released her and turned back toward the glass. “She will kill him, Captain. You will lose another agent if you don’t get him away from her.” Faintly, Christian noticed Adelaide’s erratic breathing. It wasn’t a shock to him. She’d always had a different breathing pattern from the sedative. Her sedative, Christian thought. “She’s not on her medication. You need to let me in the room.”
“No,” Beth snapped, waltzing directly up to the glass. “She is the only suspect in Harlow Vicente’s murder.” She looked directly at him. “She isn’t going anywhere until Homicide decides what to do with her. Now, if you’d please let ATF do its job, Mr. Wren, I’m sure this can be handled by morning.”
“What did Mr. Vicente ever do to you, Ms. Banvard?” the intercom asked, Agent Needle continuing his interrogation. “Why did you need to kill him?”
“Beth, you don’t know what you’re doing.” Christian inhaled deeply to calm himself. “I don’t want her up on another murder charge, but that is exactly what you will have if you don’t let me in that room.”
“Be quiet. We’re getting somewhere.”
He followed Beth’s gaze, afraid of what he might see.
Adelaide’s eyes blazed with anger, their green depths growing brighter the longer she stared at the agent sitting across from her. Her hands had formed into fists behind the metal chair, visibly shaking.
Christian watched her eyes narrow into slits and the anger take over her expression as her other half began to show its ugly head.
The handcuffs wouldn’t stop her.
“Tell him to stop talking,” he told Beth, pulling his cell phone from his pocket. He dialed another number as fast as he could, waiting for the line to pick up. “Get down to the ATF headquarters right now. Bring two doses.” He hung up.
“Two doses of what?” Beth asked, confused.
“Sedative.” Christian removed his suit jacket and set it on the table. He readied himself for the upcoming disaster as he pushed Beth behind him.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
He caught a glimpse of Adelaide before she stood. “I warned you.” He picked up the chair Beth had been occupying.
Adelaide stood, jumped straight up and then swung her cuffed hands under her feet.
The agent stood in surprise, too slow to draw his weapon.
Already behind the agent, she wrapped her cuffs around the fat man’s throat.
“What the hell?” Beth shouted, ducking to the floor as Christian swung the chair over her head and into the one-way glass separating him from her. Pieces of glass twinkled in the bright lighting and crashed to the floor.
Adelaide wasn’t fazed, keeping her leverage with the cuffs. She’d wedged her knee into the agent’s back, trying to pull the cuffs through his neck.
“Adie!” Christian yelled, throwing his legs through the window, but he couldn’t get her attention.
Agent Needle made small helpless sounds, trying to breathe. His hands wrapped around hers, but he didn’t have the strength to fight her off.
“Adie, let him go!”
The door behind him burst open again, revealing Marcus in its frame. “Damn it!” he shouted, half running toward her.
Her head snapped up, her eyes boring into Marcus’s. Smiling at the new arrival, Adelaide tightened her hold, daring anyone to move closer if she didn’t get what she wanted.
Agent Needle’s pleas for help interrupted the silence.
“Adelaide,” Marcus said, his hands up in surrender, “you don’t want to do this. You’re already in enough trouble. Remember? You hate to kill. You hate what Harlow made you do.”
Her head tilted to the side, studying him.
“I know you’re in there, Adelaide. I know you can hear me.”
Christian watched as her body visibly relaxed, her hold on the agent loosening, and he froze in surprise. His mouth went dry, his mind void of the right words to express the anger, and he didn’t know what to do. Adelaide belonged to him. He should have been the one to calm her, not a federal agent, not his enemy.
Agent Needle fell to the floor but didn’t move.
Christian extended his arm. “Give it to me,” he demanded, taking the needle from Marcus without taking his eyes off Adelaide. “Adie,” he whispered, slowly making progress toward her with the syringe in hand.
She backed herself into the corner, sinking to the floor.
Close enough to touch her, he pushed the needle into her arm. He tilted her head back away from her knees, trying to see the green depths of her eyes.
Void of everything, her eyes held no intelligence, no fire and no life.
The sedative had taken effect.
With a quick evaluation of the situation, he reached into his inner jacket pocket and withdrew the device he’d hoped he wouldn’t need but carried at all times. Planting it behind Adelaide’s weak form took little effort, cementing his plan for escape.
He slid his arm beneath the backs of her knees, wrapping his other behind her neck. Standing, Christian motioned Marcus toward the door. A memory from all those years ago threatened to take hold, but he pushed it back. Finding Adelaide caked in her own blood in a Mexican alley hadn’t been the happiest day of his life.
“Now wait a minute!” Beth shouted, interrupting Christian’s thoughts. “She is a suspect in over four murders and three robberies. She isn’t going anywhere.” She’d placed herself in front of the exit. “And I’m not letting you leave with her.”
He stepped closer to the door, forcing Captain Beth Howard to draw her weapon.
She pushed it directly into his chest. “I can’t let you leave.”
The look in her eyes resembled fear, not courage. Fear he’d leave her behind. He didn’t have time to argue with her. “Get out of my way, Beth.” He pressed himself further into the cold steel of the gun, daring her to pull the trigger.
“No,” she said, tears falling down her face. “Tell me why you’re choosing her over me. You saved my life once, doesn’t that mean anything?”
Christian pondered his next words carefully. “Not anymore.” He pushed past Beth and into the hallway, where ten other agents waited, guns drawn, ready to fire.
“What now, Christian?” Marcus asked from beside him. “You can’t run forever.”
“I’d get down if I were you,” he answered,
but didn’t get a response as the interrogation room exploded in flames.
Chapter Twenty-three
Christian tried to breathe deeply, tried to calm himself, but could only focus on the fact Marcus had ruined not only his plans but the life he’d worked so hard to build. Pulling into the dirt and gravel driveway, he stared at the dilapidated house in front of him. Adelaide had killed Harlow. The drug lord wouldn’t be home, but Christian could still get his answers.
He pushed himself into the stinking night air and around the SUV, noting the dead dog in the yard.
Adelaide.
The front door wasn’t hard to pry open and soon he stood in the middle of a small kitchen, holding a knife against some kid’s throat. “Let’s have a talk,” he said, leading the teen into the living room. He pushed the boy onto the couch.
“Hey, man! What the hell—”
Christian interrupted his protests. He didn’t have time for nonsense and didn’t care how he achieved his goal. “You’re going to tell me everything you know about Harlow and the relationship he had with a certain ATF agent.”
The teen pushed himself off the couch, confronting him. “I don’t know any Harlow or that dude Marcus. Now, you better get up on out this house before I gut you.” The kid pulled a knife of his own, brandishing it in front of Christian’s face.
One quick move put the teen back on the couch, gasping for air. “I didn’t tell you the agent’s name.” Bending over, he made sure his eyes leveled with the boy’s. “Up until now, I planned on staying calm, but if you don’t give me what I want . . .” He smiled for effect. “Well, you can imagine.”
A half hour later, he stepped out into the warm clean air of Los Angeles with everything he needed and more. Cleaning his blade free of blood, he slowly walked back toward the SUV and wondered how long Taigen and Marcus had been plotting together behind his back.
A plan formed in his mind. He only needed Adelaide to play her part as she had for the last nineteen years. He told himself it’d be easy to convince her, but doubt dug its cold fingers in deeper. After all, Taigen was her own flesh and blood.
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