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  "Yes, yes, he is fine. Under the effects of the same anesthetic as the others. You were the only one I allowed to return to consciousness." Nevan sounded impatient.

  "Will it hurt him? I mean, when it wears off?" Rhythmic movements rippled the fluid in Scott's tank. I prayed it was caused by him breathing.

  "Of course not," Nevan said without even a moment of consideration. "The open air would cause him to awaken immediately." Course, he had absolutely no intention of letting Scott or any of the others get any fresh air, so it wasn't an issue for him.

  I nodded, then made myself turn away. He's safe in there, he's less likely to get hit or set on fire, or his head cracked open, I told myself. But that did nothing to relieve the image now burned in my memory–his pale face floating in a sea of dark blue. I started to follow Nevan again, but then stopped to peer in at Asha. Like the rest of them, she was still, her face serene and her beauty more apparent without the viciousness of her personality showing through. I pounded on her tank in fury, not to break her free. If I didn't believe it was wrong, I'd leave her in there to rot after what she'd done.

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  "Oh, come now, Ms. Mitchell. You should be grateful to her," he said. "Were it not for her insistence that you were responsible for D4751's mysterious condition, you would be dead by now." That surprised me–whether Asha had realized it or not, she'd given me an opportunity, if I could just figure out what to do with it.

  "You care so little for them. What difference does one more or less make to you?" I asked.

  "I am pained by your accusation," he said, smiling. Apparently, he didn't have all the expressions of emotion mastered. "I have been charged with their care. Look at the D462's. They are always well fed, groomed and exercised. That should be evidence enough of my concern."

  "They're not horses, they're people," I shouted at him.

  "No, Ms. Mitchell, they are not," he said. "And you, most of all, should know that."

  I just stared at him–he saw no wrong in what he was doing.

  "Come, I have very little time, if all this is to be accomplished." Nevan started to reach for me, then stopped just short of my arm. I didn't think I could form a connection with him. It hadn't happened at my house when I bit him. But maybe he didn't know that, and he was afraid–good. I wasn't sure if I could use that, but I was willing to try.

  I walked slowly out of the row, following Nevan. Once he reached the front of the room, near Slick and his bunch, he stepped to one side. I didn't know why at first, until I looked down. Caelan lay there, horribly still, crumpled at the Slick's feet. He was so pale that he almost matched the pristine white of the floor. A large purpling bruise marred the left side of his face.

  "What happened?" I dropped to my knees beside him.

  "That is what you are to answer," Nevan responded. "D4750

  claimed you could repair him."

  "No, I mean to his face," I snapped. My mind was working at a furious pace. Asha, D4750, had lied to Nevan by telling him I 225

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  could heal Caelan. She knew full well I couldn't. Why would she... Realization came with a swift and painful twist in my gut. Asha'd done what she did–turning them on me–to save all of us. I would have used up all of Caelan's power to keep them from getting him down here, then he and I would have been dead and the rest of them would have been stuck. But by knocking me out, she kept Caelan and I alive, and by telling Nevan I was the only one to save Caelan, she'd given Nevan a logical reason to set me free, giving all of us a fighting chance to survive. But mine was going to be a short stint of freedom unless I could figure out a way past Nevan and Slick's group.

  "You started a fight and I believe D4751 was injured in the recapturing of the others in his group." He gave a deep sigh, as melodramatic as it was false. "And whatever has afflicted him is preventing his recovery from even a minor injury such as this." I scooted as close to Caelan as possible, laying a hand on his chest and my ear near his mouth. After a moment, a faint breath emerged, brushing my cheek, but it was a long time before I felt another. I touched his face, the bruise on his cheek, then ducked my head and kissed him, seeing my tears land shiny and wet on his skin. He was dying, and the slightest draw on his power from me would finish it. I couldn't use this connection to save us, or he would die.

  I stared down at him, tears blurring his image before me. I wanted him to open his eyes again, to talk to me, to help me figure this out. But that was not going to happen. Caelan had said there was no way to reverse the process and even trying to would involve drawing power, which would likely kill him before I had a chance to save him.

  I buried my face against his neck for an instant, taking in the warm, clean scent of him and the feel of his skin against mine. His pulse throbbed in his neck so slowly against my cheek. "Please don't make me do this," I whispered to him or to God, or to anyone 226

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  who could help me.

  But it was Nevan who responded. "You cannot reverse the effects, can you, Ms. Mitchell?" His voice was tight with anger. I sat up, but kept my hand on Caelan's chest, reassured by that continued rise and fall, however weak. "Let Scott go. He has nothing to do with this." My voice sounded old, dead. "Let him go, and I will stay."

  "If you cannot help me repair D4751, then you are of no use to me, Ms. Mitchell. I will have to hope he survives the process. If he does not, great explanation will be required to the Council, something I had wished to avoid." He backed away as Slick's group rearranged themselves around me.

  In unison and without warning, Slick and two others reached forward and pulled me up. "Caelan!" I shouted, though I knew he couldn't hear me.

  I struggled against Slick and his friends, at first. But when the power, combined with an unhealthy amount of adrenaline, began to pound through me, I stopped fighting. I shoved the power back down before my nose began to bleed.

  Slick and the other two set me on my feet with my back against the wall, a few yards away from where Caelan lay. They kept a tight hold on me, though, as Nevan came to stand before me. "It is good that you now understand fighting is merely a delay to the inevitable, not an escape."

  I laughed, a hopeless, hysterical giggle with a bitter edge.

  "You don't get it, do you?"

  His mouth tightened, but I only laughed harder, until the muscles in my stomach ached as badly as my heart. "We're connected, Caelan and I. According to your expert over there, number D4750, we are joined until death gets a hold of one or both of us. If you kill me, it kills him and vice versa. So, you're screwed. There's no way he'll survive."

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  "What are you going to do, kill me? Kill Scott?" Fury fueled my tongue. "You don't think I know your plan? You weren't going to let us go, not any of us. You were going to make them into these super drones, and then you'd tell one of them, cause you certainly wouldn't do it yourself, to kill Scott and me. You're too scared to let it happen any other way. We were all dead the moment we got here." And we were all here because of me. I tried to laugh again, but something close to a scream emerged instead.

  "You know nothing of me, half-breed, and you step from your place to presume to know my mind." Nevan was inches from me, his face mottled with angry splotches but vacant of expression.

  "Do you think I chose this? To spend my hours hiding like a human criminal, while these inferiors move about under their own command? She did this to me, her private revenge, because of you. The Council didn't care for the idea of raising their warriors from birth. They found it inefficient and too time consuming. So they ordered you destroyed and she blamed me." He stepped closer, spittle flying from his mouth.

  "They chose instead to follow my recommendation to develop technology for rapid growth and mind-control. Because of that, she destroyed my work, created chaos under my leadership by freeing these." He waved his hand back toward the tanks. "A
nd I cannot report it to the Council, or they would take my chance at winning this glory and my life with it. Because of her, I will lose one of those who follows me and the knowledge of the D462's because they will have to be reconfigured like the D475's to keep the Council from discovering what has happened." He paused, then seemed to recover himself, taking a deep breath and straightening his tie in a very human gesture. Being here was rubbing off on him, whether he liked it or not.

  "So, if your intent is to expire cursing someone's name, let it be hers, Ms. Mitchell, for I am as blameless in this as you," he 228

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  said. "My actions in this matter were only to return to rights what she had set askew." He started to walk away toward the door, gathering safe distance, no doubt.

  I wanted to shout to Nevan that I didn't know her name to curse it, but Slick stepped in front of me, blocking my view of Nevan, and closed his hands around my neck, though not squeezing. Not yet. Power surged inside me, almost beyond my control, like some kind of automatic fight response. I tried, but couldn't push it back far enough. I choked on a laugh. Here was a final irony: I had the power, but I was going to die whether I used it or not.

  I strained to see Caelan on the floor. I couldn't tell even from this short distance if he was still breathing. But it didn't matter. I could feel my hold on the power slipping. He would die because Slick would squeeze the power along with the life right out of me. The question now was how to make it count for the most. A void opened up inside me, a spot empty of all my rioting emotions. A strange calm spread through me. I wasn't frightened any more. I had no control over whether I lived or died, but if I planned it right, I could control how I died. And I was going to use it to screw Nevan royally. I held the power back as best I could, feeling the pressure building inside me, like shaken soda under the cap.

  At some signal from Nevan that I couldn't see or hear, Slick turned to his task in earnest, increasing the pressure around my neck. He didn't crush my throat in one move, though he could have. Evidently, Nevan wanted me to suffer some, or perhaps he was still concerned about it looking human. Either way, I waited in that silent emptiness inside myself, let the power build until blood was pouring out my nose from holding back. When the edges of my vision started to go black and my lungs were convulsing in my chest, trying to draw air, I reached for Slick's hand around my throat and held on. Then I let go the dam. Power flooded through me, arching my back. 229

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  I heard the first tank go with a pop of glass and a rush of fluid. Then, like a bag of microwave popcorn, the rest went in rapid succession, two at time, then three, then more than I could count at once.

  Slick was no longer squeezing my neck, but screaming in pain, trying to pull away. His skin was covered in hundreds of tiny cuts that were bleeding profusely. The other two holding me had left to join the other member of their group as soon as the first tank blew. I closed my eyes in concentration and held on, though the blood, his and mine, made our hands slippery. I knew that if I didn't take at least one of them with me, Asha, Thane and Namere would be outnumbered, and they wouldn't make it out. The sounds of fighting emerged over the noise of Slick's screams. Apparently, Nevan had been right. The effects of the anesthesia did wear off in open air.

  "Zara?" Scott's voice sounded much closer than it should have been.

  I struggled to open my eyes. They were clotted with blood and tears. Looking around Slick's arm, I saw Scott approaching us from the left side. I opened my mouth to tell him to stay away, but blood flowed out instead. I saw him jerk in horror and start to dash toward me.

  Asha, stop Scott. I got you out, now you protect him. I didn't know if she could hear me, but if she could, I knew she alone might be able to keep him safe. I might not have trusted her in other circumstances, but right now, I had no choice. Suddenly coming from the right, shoving off one of Slick's females, I saw Asha. She pushed Scott hard against the wall, just a few feet from the door, where Caelan still lay. "Stay," she shouted to him. "Zara said for you to stay." He nodded, looking at me, eyes wide. Asha raised an eyebrow, inclined her head at me, then sent another of Slick's group flying.

  Slick had stopped screaming, but blood still seeped from him. We sank to the floor together. Now, I was just tired, so tired. I wanted to curl into myself and sink into the darkness. Just finish it, God, please. I've done all that I can do, I 230

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  thought.

  But, God, for better or worse, had other plans. The connection between Caelan and I snapped. I felt it go missing like someone had taken my arm or leg. I knew what that absence meant: Caelan was dead. Whatever grief I might have felt was lost in the relief that I would soon be following him. Whatever energy I had departed and I fell on Slick, who was greatly weakened but not yet dead. Then, the strangest sensation, a buzzing in my ears and numbness in my skin, spread throughout my body, taking away all pain and leaving behind only the sense of a faint electrical current.

  The end is not bad, I thought dimly. No worse than that first connection with Caelan.

  It took me a full second to realize what was happening, to understand that this was not yet death. It was a connection. Slick and I were connected, which meant I had power, not much but maybe enough. I moved my eyes, the only movement I was allowed in this kind of connection, toward Caelan's body. If I could just figure out how to get this power into him, maybe that would be enough. I knew I didn't have much time. Slick was heading out of this world at a rapid clip, which at least kept me from being sucked into his thoughts, but I wasn't far behind him. If I could just...

  A leg, covered in gray wool trouser material, appeared in front of my eyes, and Nevan knelt before me, blood dripping from a gash down the side of his face. Apparently, he hadn't been able to maintain his distance completely and somebody had gotten him, just not finished him.

  No, I wanted to shout.

  "Ms. Mitchell, if I do not survive, neither will you." And he leaned forward and closed his hand around my wrist to pull me up. The power flowed from Slick through me and out of the hand being clutched by Nevan. After a long second, I felt Nevan's hand tear off me, but I didn't scream. There was no pain now, only darkness and oddly, the smell of hot dogs cooking on the grill. And then nothing at all.

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  Chapter 21

  "...where are you taking her?"

  "...needs medical attention we cannot provide." Sirens, loud piercing ones, and the cold, biting into my skin, pulled me from the black void but only for a moment.

  "...open your eyes, sweetheart. What's her name..."

  "...non-responsive."

  "...Jesus, did you see her eyes? The blood vessels are shot..."

  "...major blood loss...units of O negative." A sharp pain in my arm, then warmth, then a blissful empty darkness.

  Later, the light and cold woke me. Before I opened my eyes, I could see the brightness through my eyelids. And while the rest of me was warm, my toes were numb with cold. I dragged my feet up to get them warm and then tried to curl up on my side, away from the light. But the pull of something on my right arm kept me from reaching that comfort.

  A sound between a laugh and a cry startled me into alertness. My heart pounded harder in my chest.

  "I told them if I uncovered your feet, you'd wake up." Scott's voice.

  I turned my head in the direction of his voice and tried opening my eyes. They cooperated long enough to give me a glimpse of him in a much too bright room before closing again.

  "Turn off the lights, will you? It's bright enough in here for surgery," I croaked. My throat was dry and sore. I heard him move past me in a rustle of clothing, then the lights dimmed, relief for my weary eyeballs. "Yeah, you know those crazy doctors, wanting to actually see what they're doing in the hospital." I heard him sit down again, the squeak of furniture 232

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  against the floor.

  I opened my eyes
again, and this time, they stayed open. Scott was at the side of my bed, perched on the edge of a chair, hands wrapped around my bed rail. His face was pale, and his glasses accentuated the dark circles beneath his eyes and the red puffiness of his eyelids. The more than five o'clock shadow on his jaw still made a stranger out of this familiar face, though he'd been shaving for more than four years now.

  "What happened? What hospital is this?" I fingered the IV

  line into my right arm.

  "This is St. Joe's in Minocqua, Wisconsin. The ambulance brought you here after...after." He looked down at his hands for a moment, tapping his forefinger against the rail. "You looked dead. I...I couldn't find a pulse, but they, the ones that knew you, they said you were still in there. They carried you to this old hunting lodge and gave me a phone to call the ambulance. Then, they left." He shook his head. "Zara, what's going on?"

  "Did they say where they were going?" I clutched at his hand. He jerked his head up, staring at me. "No, they didn't."

  "What happened to Nevan? Did he get away?"

  "Who?" Scott's body tensed up like he was going to leap up and ring for a nurse at any second.

  "The guy in the suit, the one that took you from home," I said impatiently.

  An odd expression crossed Scott's face, and he pulled his hand out from underneath mine. "He's dead, Zara. You charbroiled him." He swallowed hard, staring at me. "He grabbed you and flames started shooting out from your hand. You burned him until there was nothing left." He crossed his arms around himself, tucking his hands underneath, looking down at his feet. "You want to tell me how you did that, Zar?"

  Slick must have been a fire carrier, like Namere. I sank back into my bed, relieved. "It doesn't matter. What about Caelan?" 233

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  "You mean the other guy that died?" The words, delivered with such innocence, drove a hole through me. Breath escaped from me in a cry, which I stifled, but not before Scott heard it. He scooted his chair away and stood, his back to me, looking out the window.