by Keri Arthur
“Good,” he said. “It will save us the effort of killing you. But rest assured we will dispose of your body in an appropriate manner—after we’ve dissected every part of you, of course, and gathered every scrap of information we might need.”
Two elevators filled with guards just arrived, Bear said. They’re running toward you.
Meaning my time had just run out.
“Sorry, Sal.” I shifted my grip on the table. “But that’s not happening, either.”
I kicked the second bottle of acid and, as its contents spilled across the floor, heaved the table up and over. Wires and IVs tore from both his body and several of the machines, while other machines toppled over, hitting the floor with a resounding crash. As the table landed with Sal face-first in the liquid, I grabbed a gun and fired at the nearest machines. Sparks flew; then, with a huge whoosh, fire erupted.
Bitch! Sal’s voice was filled with anger. Energy surged, but it wasn’t aimed at me. The table holding his body shifted several feet to the left, but it didn’t stop either the fire or the liquid from consuming his flesh. His ghostly body wavered, fading in and out of existence. He was close to his limits, but that didn’t mean anything. He’d never had much respect for limits when he was alive—I doubted that had changed in death.
The guards are in the main corridor, Bear warned.
As fire alarms began to shriek and sprinklers dropped from the ceiling, I leapt over the table and ran through the fire and the water—not toward the door, but rather the other table. Thick smoke was still issuing from the chemical mix that was now dripping onto the floor, but there were still unbroken vials on the table and they were my next target. Cat, is the fire escape clear?
So far, yes.
I skidded under the table, then rose and braced it against my back. With a grunt of effort, I straightened, flipping the table onto its side. Glass vials and various other apparatus smashed to the floor, their contents quickly mingling with the fluids already there. There was a flash of light and then a huge whoomp, and I was blasted several feet backward. I hit the wall with a grunt and slithered to the floor, my breath a rasp, my throat burning, and my clothes on fire. I swore and scrambled, on hands and knees, under the nearest sprinkler, letting the water douse the flames even as I became aware of the heat in my feet. I twisted around; the soles of my shoes were melting.
The acid.
I swore, but resisted the urge to rip them off and go barefoot. Right now there was an ocean of chemicals between me and the door, and what was left of these boots was all I had between my feet and said chemicals.
The guards are nearing the lab, Bear warned. You need to get out. Now.
I pushed upright and ran for the door. Caught a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye and ducked instinctively. The chair that would have sent me sprawling hit the wall behind me instead and clattered to the floor in several pieces.
I spun, raised a gun, and fired at the ghost trying to stop me. He reacted as he would have had he still been flesh—he flung himself to one side, and the bullets hit several machines instead. Sparks flew, reigniting the smoke, creating a wave of liquid heat that roared toward me.
I swore again and lunged at the door, waving my hand across the scanner, then all but rolling into the corridor. The wave chased me out, boiling the air around me and making it difficult to breathe. Hands grabbed my arms and pulled me clear.
Guards, not ghosts.
I twisted, kicking one in the face before lunging around and biting the other. He swore and released me. As I fell backward, I raised the gun and fired. The two men went down as one, their brains splattering across the wall behind them.
More figures loomed beyond the smoke and fire. I unleashed several more shots and the guards split, some going into the labs on the left, the others to those on the right. I rolled upright and bolted in the opposite direction.
My feet were truly on fire now, but I couldn’t stop. Bullets were pinging off the walls around me, several of them cutting through my stolen uniform and tearing into flesh. Pain was beginning to bloom everywhere, but I ignored it and kept running. I had to reach that fire escape to have any hope of getting out of here.
Bear, is the way clear up ahead?
His energy zoomed past me and then, after a moment, the image of two guards flashed into my mind. They were around the corner, standing between me and the lab that held the fire escape, their weapons at the ready.
A bullet ripped through my thigh and I stumbled, my fingers brushing the floor as I battled to keep upright. I grabbed a second gun, then twisted around and unleashed a barrage of bullets. When both guns were empty, I clipped them onto the belt hooks and pulled one of the assault rifles free.
Bear, create a noise behind the men ahead.
I pressed back against the wall, keeping an eye on the corridor behind me as I listened for Bear. There was a soft clatter, and then something round and metallic rolled toward me. Grenade. Or maybe a smoke bomb. I shot it. The thing exploded, firing sharp shards into the air that thudded into the metal walls and tore into my left calf; a heartbeat later, there was a second explosion down at the other end.
Bear’s diversion.
I ducked around the corner, raised the rifle, and fired repeatedly. The man facing me went down, blood pouring from a shattered right hand and a gut wound. The other man twisted around and returned fire. I was out in the open and had no protection. Bullets thudded into my thigh and my arm. My legs went out from underneath me, and my knees hit the floor.
This was it. I wasn’t going to escape.
A fire ax appeared out of nowhere and smashed across the guard’s head. Blood flew as he fell sideways, his finger still on the trigger and the bullets tearing a path up the nearby wall and onto the ceiling.
The weapon was wrenched from his grasp and flung sideways, and then Bear was next to me. Up, up, he said, his energy on my arm, trying to lift me. The guards are coming.
I can’t—
Try, he growled, tugging at me again.
I took a deep breath, then, somehow, managed to climb to my feet. But there was a roaring in my ears and I wasn’t sure if it was the sound of the approaching security forces or the pounding of my blood as it poured from my many wounds.
I staggered forward. As I neared the guards, I heard a voice scream, “Alive, I want her alive!”
Then something smashed into my back and sent me sprawling. Energy surged, a dangerous force my two little ghosts were gathering in an effort to defend me.
Don’t, I somehow said as the shadows of unconsciousness threatened. Wait. They want me alive, so there’s still a chance of escape.
But what—
I didn’t hear the rest of Bear’s question.
The shadows claimed me and I knew no more.
Chapter 15
Waking was a slow and painful process. Not only because my body was a maze of heated agony, but also because someone was systematically slapping my face.
We can fix that, Bear said. Just give the word.
Not until I’m sure I can move. Where am I?
In Rath Winter’s office, Cat said. He’s the one slapping you.
“Why isn’t she waking?”
The voice was deep, dark, and male. Rath Winter, I knew, simply because I’d heard his voice before, after he’d rung Sal when I was staying with him.
“You’re damn lucky she’s even alive, given the number of bullet wounds littering her body.” The second speaker was also familiar—it was Janice Harvey. “Just be thankful for small mercies, and give the drugs time to work.”
“We may not have time. We have to presume what we’re doing here is—or soon will be—common knowledge.”
“You’ve notified the authorities that there’s been a chemical spill and that the hazmat team is dealing with it.” This speaker’s voice was warm, smoky, and unfamili
ar. “It buys us a couple of hours, at least.”
Winter grunted. “Unless that fucking witch uses her family connections to force the issue.”
“Which I can counter if delay is necessary.”
Winter slapped me again. My face stung and it was all I could do to remain still. To have any hope of getting free and out of here, I had to at least be able to walk. And that meant I needed to heal. Whether that was possible given Winter’s determination to force me awake was another matter entirely.
I tried to concentrate, to ignore the pain in my body, the heat in my feet, the restricting tightness of the rope that bound my arms behind my back, but no matter how hard I tried, I simply couldn’t fall into the trancelike state that was necessary for healing.
My face stung with the force of another blow. I swore silently. Healed or not, I was going to get out of here. But not before I killed the bastard hitting me.
“How much fucking longer is this going to take?” Winter said.
“Going by the vital signs, she’s waking, so not long.”
Meaning I was not only tied but hooked up to monitoring machines.
Via an IV in your wrists and monitors on your chest and temples, Cat said.
None of which I could feel right now. But they wouldn’t provide much in the way of impediment once my hands were free. Who else is in the room?
Winter, Harvey, and the two guards who escorted you up to the twenty-ninth floor, Bear said. There’s also two guards on the other side of the door.
And plenty more between the ground floor and us. To get out I was going to need more than luck, especially in my current condition.
What about the other woman I heard?
She’s watching via a comm unit.
Of course she was. It was too much to hope that all my targets would be nearby. They weren’t that stupid.
And Sal?
Still downstairs, with his body.
Which was something of a surprise. While new ghosts did tend to stick close to their remains in the weeks or even months after their death, I’d expected Sal to want revenge deeply enough to be here, watching. Does that mean the acid and the fire didn’t consume his flesh?
It is mostly destroyed, Cat replied. Just feet, skull, and a few fingers remain.
Which might still give them enough to work with if this place wasn’t shut down. Are the guards here armed?
Yes.
What happened to my weapons?
They threw them on the table along with your clothes.
So I’m naked? Not that it really mattered. Nudity and I were old companions.
Yes—and in your own skin.
No surprise there. With my energy levels so low, my body would have instinctively reverted to preserve strength. Entry and exit points?
Aside from the main doors, there are exits to the right and the left.
Fire escapes?
No. They lead to the rooms that hold the false rifts.
Someplace I did not want to go. Not in this condition. What about the wounds?
You healed your back, calf, and thigh when you were unconscious, Cat said. But there are many more wounds on your torso that still bleed.
That wasn’t entirely surprising, given how many times I’d been hit by bullets and metal shards, but how in Rhea had my body even healed the three worst wounds? I had to be in the healing state, not an unconscious one, for that to happen. Is it possible for one of you to untie my hands without anyone noticing?
There was a slight hesitation, and then Bear said, If you wake and talk to them, their attention will be on you rather than on what might be happening behind you.
Keep an eye on the guards, then, Cat. Warn Bear if they look our way.
Will do.
I groaned softly, let my neck roll back and my eyes flutter open.
“Finally,” Winter muttered.
He stood in front of me, a thin-faced man with shadowed skin, magnetic blue eyes, and a ragged, ugly scar that ran down the side of his face from his temple to his jaw. I’d seen scars like that before, on the remains of those who’d been unfortunate enough to come across a wraith. Winter had been the closest to the wraith when he and the others encountered it in the rift, and the fact that he’d survived was testament to his strength and his courage. It was also a warning that I should not underestimate him.
I looked past him. Harvey was standing slightly to his left, watching the various monitors.
I blinked, swallowed, then said, “Who the hell are you?”
My voice was little more than a rasp of air, the question almost inaudible. Winter raised an eyebrow and glanced at Harvey. She adjusted a dial; cold liquid raced into my veins and the chill sent shivers through my body. I had no idea what it was, but my heart began beating faster and I suddenly felt stronger. How long that feeling would last I had no idea, but I suspected I better make use of it while I could.
Bear, untie the ropes. Cat, go over to the table with the guns. If the guards move, unleash hell.
My pleasure.
I lifted my gaze and met Winter’s. He smiled; it was the sort of expression a cat gave its prey a second before it devoured it.
“I’m surprised you haven’t guessed.”
Energy began tugging at the bindings on my wrists. “Oh, I know you’re one of Sal’s partners. I just don’t know who or what you were before you killed Rath Winter and stole his life.”
He raised an eyebrow. “That is not important. What did you do with the two children you stole from us?”
I echoed his expression, mocking him. “That hardly matters, given you won’t ever get your hands on them again.” I switched my gaze to Harvey. “Why are you helping these people? What do you gain out of giving the vampires light immunity?”
“I get the satisfaction of seeing the shifters annihilated,” she said. “I get to see them torn apart, as my kin were torn apart in the war.”
I frowned. “You’re not old enough to have been alive in the war.”
“No, but my grandparents were war survivors. The things they saw . . . It changed them.”
Embittered them, from the sound of it, and they’d passed it on to their children and grandchildren. “The vampires won’t just kill shifters. They’ll destroy us all.”
“Not us. We have a deal with them.”
Almost there, Bear said.
I glanced at Winter. “How in hell did you get her to swallow that sort of bullshit? Because you and I know once the light no longer stops them, the vampires will run amok.”
He smiled. Chills skidded down my spine. There was nothing pleasant about that look. Nothing human about the light in his eyes.
“It’s not difficult when it’s the truth.” He lunged forward, wrapped his fingers around my neck, and shoved his face close to mine. His breath, filled with dead things, washed across my face. “Where are the children?”
“I don’t know.” It came out as a wheeze. “We were met by mercenaries out on the old City Road, and they were taken away.”
The bastard’s grip tightened. “Who took them away?”
“I don’t know. Nuri doesn’t exactly share information like that with someone like me.” My hands were beginning to tingle as the ties binding them loosened and blood rushed back into my fingers.
Nearly done. There was weariness in Bear’s mental tones. I’d pushed them to their limits today, and it made my heart want to weep. Especially given that it wasn’t over yet.
Winter stared at me, his gaze boring into mine, as if trying to unearth the secrets from my brain. After a moment, he snorted and released me. “No, I guess she wouldn’t. Especially when she’s got shifters on her staff. It’s a wonder you’re still alive.”
“She needs me.” Cat, I added silently. Get ready to toss me one of the assault rifles.
“Give he
r the truth drug.” Winter turned and walked across to the huge desk that dominated the other side of the room.
Undone, Bear said.
Cat, get ready. I waited until Harvey’s concentration was on the monitors rather than me, then ripped the IVs from my arm and threw myself sideways. I was out of the chair and rolling away from it even before it hit the floor. As Winter twisted around, Cat tossed me the rifle. I plucked it from the air, flipped it around, and unleashed at the guards. As they went down, the doors opened and two more men spilled into the room. I shot them as well, then jackknifed around and aimed at Winter. But he’d already disappeared behind the rather old-fashioned but solid-looking wooden desk. A second later, an alarm sounded, its shriek so loud it hurt my ears.
“Help is on its way,” Winter shouted. “There’s no escape for you, Tiger. This time, you will die.”
“Like fuck I will.”
I tore the remaining monitors from my chest and temples and sat up. I couldn’t see Winter, but Harvey was cowering behind one of the monitors, her expression terrified.
“Please,” she said. “I can help you . . .”
“Like you helped the children? Like you helped those women being dissected on the tables?” She didn’t reply, which only increased my fury. “How can you justify what is happening here? How can you even sleep at night, knowing what is being done to those women, let alone to the children?”
“They are shifters—”
“They are children,” I yelled, and, without a second thought, shot her.
As she fell lifeless to the floor, I grabbed the chair and used it as a brace as I forced my battered body upright. It hurt. Everything hurt. But that wasn’t going to stop me from confronting the man cowering behind the desk. Nothing would, not even the guards who were undoubtedly on their way thanks to that damn alarm.
The effort of standing left me light-headed. I sucked in several large gulps of air, then hobbled toward the desk. My two little ghosts joined me, their energy tingling across my skin, offering moral support but not strength. They were too close to exhaustion themselves.
And, Rhea help us all, I still needed their help.