Blacklisted

by Gena Showalter

  "Run," he shouted to me.

  On instinct, I managed three crawl steps. Then I froze. What are you doing? You can't leave!

  "Run, you idiot," Erik growled.

  "No."

  Just then, a stream of yellow fire whizzed past my ear. It didn't touch me, but it was so hot my skin instantly blistered. My stomach twisted painfully and I scrambled behind the passenger door.

  "She isn't fucking armed," Erik shouted to the women.

  "Drop your weapon," someone shouted back. A girl, different from the one who had first spoken.

  "Like hell," he told her. He fired another shot and I heard the girl curse under her breath.

  Yeah, I knew the feeling. I wanted to curse and scream and curse some more. "You have to believe me. We're innocent. Everything that happened tonight was a big misunderstanding."

  "The shot that grazed you was a warning, Camille," one of the girl's said, fury dripping from her voice. "Next time I'm aiming for your heart. You want to live, you'll walk toward me, hands up. We'll go someplace quiet and talk."

  I made to straighten, and a beam hit just above my shoulder. Screaming, I ducked. Were they trying to kill me? "I thought--I thought--"

  "They want you injured," Erik explained. "They'll say anything to get their hands on you."

  "But I am injured!" And I no longer wanted to give myself over to these girls. I think, perhaps, I was safer with Erik.

  "No, you're trapped," a third female voice said, this one a purring rumble. "Much as I'd like to scratch your eyes out, Erik, we have orders to bring you in unharmed. If possible. But I don't care who the hell you are. It's open season on you and your little friend if you keep firing."

  Her words confused me. Who was he to them?

  A second later, bright amber light exploded, consuming the night's darkness, brighter than the halogens, glowing and shining over me and Erik. No shadows remained.

  We were spotlighted.

  "Let Camille go, and I'll give myself up," Erik shouted. "My aim hasn't been off, either, ladies. If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead."

  Someone laughed. Someone else snorted. I reeled. He would give himself up for me?

  "Whatever you say, Erik," the one with the scratchy, purring voice said.

  "We'll let her go, no problem," another said.

  I think she was in charge since she was the first to have spoken to us and had an authoritative ring to her voice that the others didn't have. But even I knew she was lying--though I might have wished otherwise. No one shot at you only to let you go without incident.

  "We really are innocent," I said, trying again to make them understand as I squinted against the brightness of those stupid lights. Well, I really was innocent, at least. I couldn't see the girls, not even a hint of them. I could see only orange and gold spots and the darkness that surrounded them, a darkness I wanted to be a part of. My eyes once again watered and I had to look down at my boots. "The napkin you saw him give me is blank. And I followed him because I was mad at him. I wanted to ask him why he gave it to me. That's all."

  "Sounds like an interesting story and one I'd like to hear in more detail."

  I wish I could see them, judge their expressions.

  "Surely you can agree to come in and talk to us." This new voice was placating, soothing.

  Good cop to the other two bad cops, perhaps. "I tried. You shot at me."

  "Give me another chance. I'll play nice."

  "Don't listen to them, Camille," Erik barked.

  I leaned my forehead against the coolness of the car door. My arm hung limply at my side, useless. My knees knocked together. I couldn't have moved if my life depended on it.

  Maybe it did.

  "You run and hide until everything's settled," he said, "just like I told you."

  "For the last time, I said no!"

  "What are you two arguing about over there?" the leader asked.

  A hand suddenly cupped my shoulder and I gasped. I whipped my attention to the side, breath congealing in my throat. When I saw who was crouched behind me, I almost melted into a puddle of relief. Erik.

  His expression was hard, guarded. "You should have run." He didn't look at me as he spoke, but kept his attention straight ahead.

  "I couldn't. You would be in way more trouble."

  His hand settled on my lower back. "You keep surprising me, Camille Robins."

  I kept surprising myself.

  "I'm getting tired of waiting," the purring one called. "I haven't met my kill ratio this week, and you're seriously pressing your luck."

  "Blow up the car then," Erik taunted. "Our time is up anyway."

  I paled. Had he just told them to blow up our car?

  "Don't tempt me. A lot of people want you dead, Erik. I just want to talk to you."

  If I'd had the strength, I would have slapped my hand against Erik's mouth so that he couldn't respond. As it was, he didn't incite her further. "Give me a moment to think," he called.

  "You don't have any options but death or surrender."

  "Let me think, damn it!"

  Pause.

  "One minute," came the response. "And the countdown begins now. If you haven't made a decision by then, I'll make it for you. I've already given you more leeway than I've ever given any other. The fact that we were once friends is beginning to mean less and less."

  "So why'd you do it?" he said quietly. "Why'd you really stay with me?"

  A moment passed before I realized he was talking to me. "We have one minute and you want to talk about this now?"

  "Yes. So hurry."

  "They already knew my name," I replied, trying to absorb his strength. His hair hung low, covering his eyebrows. There were frown lines around his mouth. And yet, he'd never looked sweeter.

  "You didn't know that until a minute ago. Why?" he persisted.

  He wanted the truth. Fine. I had nothing to lose at this point. "I couldn't just leave you here to die."

  "Even though I ignore you at school?"

  "Even though."

  "Even though you think I'm a drug dealer?"

  I caught the phrasing and blinked. He'd said "you think." Not "I am." In that moment, hope that he was just a regular guy who'd been misunderstood bloomed and spread. "Yeah."

  His expression had become vulnerable. Soft. As hopeful as I felt.

  "Even though."

  "Stupid," he said, but there was a lightness to his tone that hadn't been there before. "Brave." And then he turned toward me and placed a soft kiss on my lips, shocking me.

  The kiss didn't last long, but it shook me to the core.

  Danger was all around us and there was a mental tick-tock in my mind, but I didn't care. Erik Troy had just given me a kiss. Not with tongue, like I'd dreamed of so many nights, but with caring--as if we were about to die and he wanted to savor his last few minutes on Earth.

  Even though the kiss had stopped, he didn't immediately pull away. I breathed in his scent, as warm and crisp as the night, basking in this stolen moment. So badly I wanted his arms to wrap around me, to hold me close.

  But they didn't, and I understood why. He couldn't remove his gun from the girls' sights. A sobering thought. And yet, this still managed to be the happiest moment of my life.

  Maybe because, for the first time in my life, I realized I wasn't promised a tomorrow. Maybe because I'd crushed on him for so many months. Either way, I took comfort from the action. My determination to make it through this ordeal (alive) intensified.

  "I'm not worth staying for," he said. "Ever."

  A few minutes ago, I might have agreed with him. With that "even though you think I'm a drug dealer" comment, I wasn't so sure anymore. "Let me be the judge of that," I replied.

  He studied me for a moment. "I don't know what to make of you. You're--" Suddenly he squeezed off a shot in the girls' direction. "Do not come any closer, Phoenix."

  "Damn it, Erik!"

  "You promised me a minute, and I've got a few seconds left."


  Phoenix. Hearing him say a name reminded me of the familiarity he had with these girls. "You know them?"

  "Yeah. Unfortunately."

  "I'm getting tired of this, Erik," Phoenix, the leader, growled. "You can't hold us off all night."

  "Listen, we both know I have information you want. You're not going to rush in and fight me."

  "You used to be one of us," a new voice proclaimed.

  Erik stiffened. A look of absolute defenselessness passed over his expression. "Cara?"

  "Yeah," Cara said, her voice hard, stiff. "I'm here, too. You almost killed me with your stuntman driving."

  Why had he stiffened? Why the defenselessness? And he'd once been an A.I.R. agent? He did seem to know a lot about them. And I'd never seen anyone use a weapon quite so expertly.

  "You may not want to fight us," Cara said, "but I'd love to smash your face in."

  Ex-girlfriend, I decided with a twinge of jealousy. "How long have you two been broken up?" I asked before I could stop myself.

  Erik shrugged, pulling his attention back to me. "How'd you know we dated?"

  I tapped a fingertip to my temple. "Smart."

  "A few months," he said with a small grin.

  "What'd you do to make her so mad?"

  His lips pursed, destroying all hint of that grin. "Not a good time to discuss that."

  "Just like you know we won't kill you," Cara added as if there had never been a lag in their conversation, "we know you won't kill us."

  "You don't know anything about me," he growled darkly. "Not anymore. Maybe not ever."

  Pause.

  "I'm approaching, and if you singe a single hair on my head I'll kill you the way I've wanted for months," Cara said.

  "Sure you want to risk it, babe?" he said to her. "I've wanted to hurt you, too. I've dreamed of it, in fact."

  Babe? Babe! Did he still have feelings for her? None of my business, it didn't matter, shouldn't matter, but...obviously, he did still care and obviously I did, too. He'd kissed me, after all.

  Plop.

  My brow furrowed. What had made that sound?

  "I dropped my gun," Cara said, answering my unspoken question. "I'm weaponless."

  Erik snorted and peeked over the car window. "But you're never defenseless."

  I, too, peeked through the window and watched as a beautiful Asian girl stepped into the light. She had smooth, caramel-colored skin, almond-shaped brown eyes, and rich, dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was medium-size and lithe, her smooth curves encased in tight, black syn-leather.

  My head tilted to the side and I frowned. She'd been at the Ship. She'd been in that group of girls who had watched Erik so intently. She hadn't watched Erik the whole time, though. She'd mostly watched me.

  Had she suspected me of working with him, even then? Dear God. Maybe the night had been doomed to fail no matter what I'd done. The girls as they'd walked up to the bar replayed through my mind...one of them had a blue trident tattooed on her face, one had pale hair and pretty features. One had brown hair and a sharp gaze. I couldn't recall the others, though. I only knew that there had been others.

  Were they all here? Probably. My stomach twisted with the thought. That meant we couldn't see them all; some had to be hiding. Maybe even sneaking in behind us.

  "There's more, Erik. There's more!"

  He understood what I was saying. "I know. Three have already worked their way in front of the car. The building is keeping them from having a clear shot, though, so don't worry."

  Don't worry? Don't worry!

  If Erik knew these girls so well, why hadn't he left the Ship the moment he'd spied them? I know he'd seen them. He'd stiffened and moved his meeting with Half-Mask to another room.

  To save innocents in case a gunfight broke out?

  "Damn it, Cara," he suddenly snarled.

  Cara continued to walk toward us, maintaining a slow and steady pace. Strands of her dark hair wisped around her lovely face. "That isn't what you used to say to me. You used to be happy to see me."

  No wonder Erik hadn't ever asked me out; he used to date perfection.

  "That was a long time ago," Erik told her.

  "And a lot of things have changed since then. Including your appearance. Thought we wouldn't recognize you with a different hair color? Thought we wouldn't find out you'd had eye surgery, replacing your own peeps with someone else's? You looked better with green eyes, I must say."

  "Stop!" he shouted, gruff. "I don't want you any closer."

  If she reached us...Lord, I didn't know. What would she do? Nothing good, that much was obvious. There was fury in her pretty brown eyes. And what would Erik do? He obviously didn't want to hurt her or he would have fired by now.

  For the first time since this night of terror had begun, Erik appeared deeply and unequivocally scared--and that frightened me all the more.

  I mean, if he was scared, something terrible was about to go down. Every warning he'd given me about A.I.R. flashed through my mind. Pain. Torture. Death. So far, he'd been right about everything else.

  If he wouldn't protect us, I had to.

  Gulping, I searched the area for some sort of weapon. I saw dirt, gravel, brittle blades of grass. A few rocks. Then I saw the handle of a gun sticking out of the waist of Erik's pants. I'd never handled a gun before. They weren't even allowed in my house because my dad abhorred violence of every kind.

  Before I could talk myself out of it, I grabbed the weapon and aimed it at Cara. I didn't fire, just shouted, "I have a gun and I'm not afraid to use it." That's so lame, Robins!

  Erik jerked in surprise, reached out for me, then thought better of it and stilled. Cara, too, froze in place.

  "He might not shoot you," I said, "but I will." Maybe. Oh hell. What are you doing?

  "Innocent, huh?" A look of disgust washed over Cara's delicate features. "Get control of your girlfriend, Erik," she snapped, stepping forward again.

  My hand trembled. "I'll shoot. I will. I just want you to stop and listen to what I have to say. Don't threaten us anymore. All right?"

  "Hand me the gun," Erik said, trying to sound calm but not doing a very good job of it. "Just hand it over and everything will be fine."

  "No." Tears stung the corners of my eyes. "They aren't listening to us! And you were right. They shoot first and ask questions later."

  "Camille," he said.

  "No!"

  Cara took another step, so close I could see the golden highlights in her hair. I could see the matching flecks of gold in her eyes.

  "Camille," Erik repeated. "You don't want to do this."

  No, I didn't.

  He reached out slowly and wrapped his fingers around mine. His touch was gentle; I could feel the callus on his palm, a little abrading. "They'll never believe you're innocent if you start shooting."

  "But--"

  "You don't know the things they're capable of. Don't become their enemy."

  "I think I might already be their enemy," I whispered, desperate.

  "I won't let anything happen to you. Okay? Trust me. I'll take care of you. I've taken care of you up to this point, haven't I?"

  "Well..."

  "From now on then."

  Cara reached the door, her booted feet touching mine. The gun pressed into her chest. "You didn't used to make promises you couldn't keep."

  "Shut the hell up, Cara. She is innocent. I'll come in and explain." Erik paused, his eyes never leaving me. "Camille. Give me the gun."

  A tear escaped and slipped down my cheek. I allowed Erik to take the gun from me. My shoulders sagged in relief. I hadn't really wanted to shoot anyone anyway and I'd never been good at confrontation.

  In the next flash of time, Cara gave her arms a single shake and two blades fell into her waiting hands. Before I could blink, she had the sharp tips at Erik's throat.

  I gasped in shock, in horror. "You said you were unarmed."

  "I lied." She didn't face me. I guess she didn't consider me enough of
a threat. "He's subdued," she called. "Aren't you, baby?"

  Erik remained silent. Our gazes met, and he gave a single shake of his head meant to assure me that everything really would be okay.

  The other girls rushed forward and I saw that I'd been right. There wasn't just three or four of them. There were six of them. Someone, the one with the blue trident tattoo, grabbed me and shoved me to the ground, face-first. Dirt filled my mouth and I tried to spit it out.

  "Don't hurt her," Erik commanded. "I told you. She's innocent in all of this. I gave her the napkin to distract you."

  "She's as innocent as you, I'm sure," Cara scoffed.

  My arms were jerked behind my back and I screamed so loud and long the sound echoed through the night. The action had caused the numbness in my wound to wear off abruptly and I felt every new throb of pain.

  Erik grabbed Cara's wrists and gave a sharp twist. She tumbled to her knees with a yelp, her blades falling to the ground. He dove for me in an effort to free me, but someone--a human cat?--met him halfway and they tumbled together on the gravel.

  "Let her go," he snarled. "You're hurting her."

  Erik and the girl, who had multicolored hair and pointy ears, struggled and rolled on the ground. The girl hissed and lashed out with her nails. Erik didn't punch her, as I would have liked him to do, but he dodged her blows and struggled to pin her.

  "Careful with him, Kitten," Phoenix growled. "I want him alive."

  "Yeah, well," the purring one said. "You want me alive, too? He's fighting dirtier than when we last rumbled with him." She grunted as Erik flipped her over his shoulder.

  She held onto him, pulling him back down. Her orange, red, and black hair formed a curtain around them. Moving with the grace and fluidity of a cat, she arched her back and slid herself up Erik's body. She was a Teran, I realized.

  Captured as I was, I didn't know what to do, how I could help. So I said, "Erik, it's okay. I'm okay."

  Cara had reclaimed her knives and leapt at the dueling pair. Distracted, Erik didn't see her and soon Cara's blades were once again compressed against his throat. Several droplets of blood cascaded down his neck.

  And yet, still he fought to get to me.

  "I'm okay," I repeated, fighting past the pain. "I'm okay."

  This time, he stopped moving. Panting, he moved his gaze over me to judge the truth of my words. I had a feeling that he would have started struggling again if I'd so much as frowned.

  With Cara pressing the knife into his throat, the one called Kitten wound laserbands around his wrists. Laserbands were wound around my wrists, as well, their light bonding to my skin. If I tried to take them off, I'd take hunks of skin and bone with them.