Kneeling so fast I slammed my knees onto the floor, I carefully slipped my arm through the Scarlet Steel bars and hooked my index finger beneath the ring. Slowly lifting it up, I began bringing my arm back in the cell.
“Hurry!” Paris shouted over the noise.
“You’re. Not. Helping,” I said through gritted teeth. My whole body was stiff with the effort of trying not to touch the bars, which I knew would burn through my flesh in less than five seconds. This close, the bitter, acidic smell wafting off the metal was so sharp it burned my nose, like swimming in a pool that has too much chlorine.
I couldn’t help the sigh of relief that slackened my shoulders once the keys were safely inside, and I rose, moving in front of the lock. My stomach twisted with dread. There was no way I could avoid touching the bars if I hoped to unlock the door.
“Quit being a pussy and do it!” Paris growled.
“If you’re going to talk smack, maybe you should unlock your cell first and then help me out!” I shouted at her with equal fervor.
That shut her up. I didn’t know whether to be disappointed she’d declined my offer, or relieved to get her off my back.
Pulling the sleeve of my sweater down as far as it would go, I used it to cover my palm before sliding my arm through the narrow gap between two of the bars. Not wanting to put my face next to the steel, I knelt and awkwardly turned my wrist so the first key was angled for the lock. There were five total. I prayed I would get lucky and hit the right key on the first try.
No such luck.
The first one didn’t work, so I tried the second. Then the third.
About the fourth key, my knees were starting to tremble with the effort of maintaining my position. Tension knots had balled up the muscles under my right shoulder blade, making my arm cramp. Wincing at a particularly excruciating spasm, my arm flinched half an inch, brushing against the bars. Though the sweater covered my skin, I still felt the acid eat away a hole in the thin fabric and bite at my forearm.
My mouth dropped open in shock, and a sob slipped out before I clamped down on my tongue. God, this hurt. On my “Shit List of Bad Memories,” being burned by Scarlet Steel was near the top of the list, if not at the top.
I cursed when the fourth key didn’t unlock the cell either, and forced myself to move on to the final key. The smell of burnt flesh drifted toward me, and I made my mind a blank slate, refusing to acknowledge that it was my flesh. Otherwise, I’d lose my resolve and never try the last key.
After some noodling, I heard the almost inaudible click of the lock opening. I pulled my arm back inside and covered up my other hand with my sleeve before bracing myself and gripping the bars. The material didn’t completely cover my fingers, leaving them exposed to the metal’s mercy. It ate at my flesh as I yanked on the door with a cry of pain, jerking my arms back to my body as it banged open, rattling the floor.
“About time,” Paris snapped. “Now let me out.”
I mumbled a few things that would have earned me a slap, but luckily she didn’t hear them. I stepped out of my cell and scurried over to the lock holding her door closed. It took me a while to find the right key again, but it wasn’t nearly so time consuming since I was actually facing the lock and not guessing where the hole was. At last, the lock gave and I awkwardly shoved the door open with my elbows and the tips of my sneakers, which were too wide to fit between the bars all the way.
Paris stepped past me, looking annoyed. Her sharp gaze was fixed on the door Orion had taken his leave through. “We have to go after him. If he leaves this facility, then any chance Aden has of surviving is gone.”
I had to think a minute about what she was saying for it to make sense. The thing about Paris was when she got mad, her accent got heavier.
A reply was forming on my tongue when a weird itching sensation spread over my forearm and my hands. I glanced down. My skin was literally scabbing over and healing in fast-forward. Mouth gaping, I watched as the raw, bloody sores came together and formed new skin, returning to normal as if nothing had ever happened.
“Wow,” I breathed, holding my hand up in front of my face and examining it.
“Yes, you’re healing faster,” Paris said, waving a hand as if this were a trivial thing. To someone who hadn’t been a vampire for very long, it was pretty amazing. I thought about all the fights I used to get into in grade school, and how this little ability would have come in handy and saved me from being grounded many times. Dad would never have known about my scuffles if the evidence had simply vanished.
“What the hell are you doing?”
I blinked, my eyes refocusing on Paris, who was staring at me with disdain.
“Security will be here any minute wondering what’s happened,” she said. “We need to be gone before they arrive.”
Nodding, I followed after her as she carefully stepped over the strewn bodies, her pumps splashing in the blood-soaked floor. Slapping her badge to the scanner, I watched as the light flipped from red to green and the door swung open. Paris barreled through, with me following in her wake. The floor was already slippery enough without having the soles of my shoes slicked with blood. Upon those first few frantic steps, I slipped and slid into a wall, but I didn’t let it slow me down. Paris looked like she was having just as much trouble, eventually stopping to pry off her pumps and carry them with her fingers hooked in the heels.
“Why don’t you just ditch ‘em?” I called over the wailing siren.
A look of complete and utter shock came over her. “You do not ditch six thousand dollar Christian Louboutin heels! They’re rare to find now, practically vintage!”
My eyes nearly bugged out of my head. “How much did you say those things cost?”
She didn’t have a chance to answer because right then a dark form came flying around the corner, and we nearly slammed into Rook.
My heart leapt to my throat, nearly choking me. Paris froze, going paler than she normally was, her eyes wide beneath her glasses.
The three of us stared at each other, panting and tense with indecision. Rook’s eyes were wild, glancing from me to Paris and back again.
I swallowed against my suddenly dry throat. If he calls for backup, we’re screwed.
I didn’t care how much history we had between us. Going back to that cell wasn’t an option. If subduing one of my closest friends was what it took, then bring it on.
I balled my hands up into fists like I’d been taught, ducking into a defensive position. The art of “ass-kickery” wasn’t new to me, and I was already scanning Rook’s body for possible openings when he gripped his rifle, locked eyes with me, and barely whispered, “Charge me and grab my gun. Take out the cameras.”
His voice was barely loud enough for me to hear over the sirens, thanks to my vampire hearing. I blinked, not sure if I’d heard him right. He discreetly motioned with his gaze to something behind and above me. Warily prying my eyes off Rook, I spared a quick glance over my shoulder, seeing a mounted, shiny lens peering back at me from the ceiling – a camera.
Now that he had pointed it out, I noticed more black dots I had mistaken for holes along the ceiling, no doubt zooming in on us this very second.
I hesitated, not sure if I could trust him.
“Quickly!” he hissed. “Before the rest of the unit comes down here.”
Going with a gut reaction, I let out a battle cry and charged him. I kicked out, aiming for his stomach, which he in turn blocked with the gun. I grinned. Exactly what I was counting on. Now with the rifle within reach, I grabbed it and jerked it hard. It slipped out of Rook’s meaty grasp without much resistance, which puzzled me until I realized he had let me have it.
“Take out the camera!” he hissed, pretending to lunge for the gun.
I easily sidestepped him and whirled, closing one eye and aiming at the ceiling. Paris ducked. My arms shuddered as the bullet sailed out of the gun, barreling right into the lens and shattering it. Glass shards rained down from the ceiling.
> “Take out the other two!” Rook hissed.
I lowered the gun, about to shoot Rook – or at least pretend to – and grabbed the gun, jerking it toward the ceiling as I pulled the trigger over and over again. Shots rang out, eviscerating the tiles and whatever cameras were left at the other end. The mechanism began clicking, indicating it was empty.
I thought we were home free when I spied another little black circle, right above us.
One more.
Using the gun as an extension of my arm, I punched Rook across the jaw hard enough to make him stagger, and then planted my foot in his side, using it to propel myself upward. The camera didn’t stand a chance. Raising the gun, I slammed it into the lens, smashing it to pieces. I fell to the floor, landing on both feet without breaking a sweat.
Rook’s fist flew out of nowhere. All I saw was a dark shape zooming closer, which I naturally turned to look at.
POW!
Pain exploded along my jaw, jerking my head sideways. “Shit, Rook!” I said, staggering and rubbing my now aching jaw. It hurt to even talk.
Rook stopped, glanced at the decimated cameras all around us, and then blushed sheepishly. “Sorry,” he said, running a hand over his dreads. “I suppose we can drop the act now.” He reached for his walkie-talkie, bringing it to his mouth. “The suspects are heading toward the south exit. I repeat, the suspects are heading toward the south exit. All units converge there.”
I relaxed, despite the fact my face felt like it had been hit by a mace. “I thought you were coming to kill us,” I said.
Rook shook his head, a sly smile on his face. “No, that was just a ruse. I had to play along so Frost wouldn’t suspect anything. I knew what she planned to do to you guys. She’s been trying to find a way to get rid of you, Sloane, since you got here. Had the Council ultimately ruled in your favor, she would have found a way to override it and execute you anyway. I knew I had to stop her before that could happen, and being on her good side was the best way to go about doing that.”
My brows raised; even Paris looked impressed.
“Sorry I doubted you,” I said, smiling. Even that hurt. Truth was, I still didn’t know if I should fully trust him, but he had created a great diversion. That had to count for something.
“I was coming to bust you guys out,” Rook went on, “but I see you’re way ahead of me. Come on. We need to move fast.”
He turned and started sprinting toward the far end of the hall, where another door was. Pitching the spent gun to the side, Paris and I followed after him. I scowled, annoyed. Every footstep rattled my sore jaw, sending knives of pain throughout my neck and the rest of my face.
Rook paused before the door, swiping his badge. It swung open –
And there stood five flabbergasted guards.
We all stood there, frozen.
“Captain…?” one of them asked, and then Rook cut him off with a punch to the temple that sent him crumpling to the floor.
“He’s been glamoured!” one of them shouted, raising his gun.
I almost snorted but held back. All the better if they thought I was somehow controlling Rook. Rushing forward, I kicked one guy in the stomach, sending him flying into another. Behind me, another guard went for his radio, at which point I spun around and kicked it out of his hand, following up with a palm strike to his jaw. His eyes rolled back as he dropped his gun, stunned, and I swiped it up and struck him hard across the temple with the butt. His limbs slackened and he fell to the ground atop his buddy, unconscious.
Gunshots fired a little farther down the hall, and Paris cursed, ducking and all-around trying to stay out of the way. When the noise stopped, the ceiling was shredded.
So were the cameras.
I grinned. Nice move, Rook.
As I prepared myself to face the remaining three guards, I paused, seeing two of them had already been subdued. “Honestly,” I said, looking at their crumpled forms. “Did you not leave any for me?”
“Oh, there’s one more for you, sweetheart,” someone said behind me, right before I heard a gun cock. “Drop your weapon.”
Setting the gun down, I raised my arms and slowly turned around, coming eye to eye with the barrel of a revolver. The last guard’s helmet was off. He looked young, maybe in his twenties, and the look he gave me could have melted flesh.
“You think you’re above the law, hunter,” he hissed. “But you’re wrong. You’re more worthy of death than any of us.”
I wondered if he would feel that way if he knew I had saved him from a slow, excruciating death at the hands of a super-virus that would have turned his lungs into soup. His eyes flicked to my right wrist; the sleeve of my sweater had come down, revealing the tattoo of a black cross etched into my skin, the symbol that marked me as a member of the vigilante vampire hunting group known as the Black Cross Guild.
Behind me Rook froze, his faces perfectly composed and his eyes blank, though I could sense the nervousness rolling off him. He must still be going with the “glamour” act.
The wheels of my mind spun, frantically trying to come up with a plan, when something thumped the guard in the back of the head and he slumped forward. A tall, dark-skinned girl stood there, her dark brown hair hanging in perfect ringlets around her delicately featured face. A smirk worked its way onto her lips as she watched the guard go down, one hand on the hip of her white lab coat, the other still holding the pistol she’d used to knock him out. Beneath the coat, she wore a tight-fitting, black cocktail dress.
While relieved to not have a gun pointed at my head, I mentally groaned at seeing her. Can’t it be anyone but her? “Dezyre, what are you doing here?” I really wasn’t in the mood to deal with her drama right now.
She ignored my bitter words and holstered the pistol. “I was in the next hall when the alarm went off, and I saw Orion’s empty cell. I don’t know what you’re up to, but I want in if it involves bringing that bastard to justice for unleashing that horrible disease.”
“How do you know about that?” Paris snapped.
Dezyre didn’t show any fear. “When I saw Aden was admitted, I went over to his room to check on him. That’s when I overheard you and Sloane talking about it.”
My stomach lurched. Dezyre was the one who had exposed me for being a vampire hunter, and because of that, I had been tortured by Frost. To say I didn’t trust her would be an understatement. “Sorry, but this superhero club’s all full.”
Dezyre’s lip-glossed mouth rolled up in a sneer. “I could be of use to you. What if you get hurt? Who’s going to help heal you?”
“I’ll take my chances,” I mumbled. I’d almost be willing to deal with Paris if it meant not putting up with Dezyre. “Knowing you, you’d try to poison me.” I was, of course, referring to the Holiday Ball, where she’d brought me a glass of punch that had been laced with acid. Later on, we’d found out she’d been glamoured by my brother, but that was beside the point.
“Oh, please,” Dezyre said. “That was so not my fault. I can’t help it your family is seriously dysfunctional.”
I’m about to make your face seriously dysfunctional. I growled, growing more irritated just by listening to her voice.
“Enough!” Rook bellowed, coming up between us. “Stop acting like two-year-olds! We don’t have time for it. We have to get out of here.”
“I know a way,” Paris said, a mischievous smile on her lips. “Follow me.”
CHAPTER 6
Thanks to Rook’s misdirection, we didn’t run into anyone else as we made our way to an adjoining hallway, thought I didn’t expect that to last for long. Though Dezyre and I were taking out cameras left and right, I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching us.
We spilled into a small, narrow hall I’d never been in before. It didn’t appear to have any exits or doors. “What are you doing?” I asked Paris when she walked right up to the wall.
“Getting us out of here.” It looked like she waved her badge in front of the wall, but then the outl
ine of a door appeared as a chunk of the wall opened up and she pulled it open. Curious, I followed her inside the dark, cool space. The moment we set foot inside the room, lights flicked on overhead, illuminating several things I took to be cars.
“How do you get all these down here?” I asked, looking around the parking garage. There had to be at least fifty vehicles, and because of it, the room seemed to stretch on forever.
“They’re taken apart and reassembled down here,” Paris said.
I eyed one as we walked by. It looked like a weird hybrid between a Mustang, a Ford Ranger, and a Dodge Viper. “Couldn’t you, um, have put them back together correctly?”
Rook chuckled softly. “It’s the end of the world, and you’re worried about the style of car you’re driving? Even Dezyre would admit that’s vain.”
Dezyre made a face at him but didn’t comment.
My face flamed. “I guess I was just expecting you guys to drive fancy sports cars or limos.”
“You’ve been around modern ideals of vampires for too long,” Paris said, stopping at a slender “car”. Its doors were brown, with a mostly black body, and it had thin wheels that looked like they’d been snagged from a racecar. “Being a vampire, as you’ve noticed, is hardly as romantic as literature and movies paint it out to be.”
“And they run on gasoline?” I asked. Gas prices had shot through the roof since the Eclipse, becoming more of a pleasure than a necessity for common folk who didn’t have a small fortune available to pay for it. Generally, only government officials and the imminently wealthy could afford it, which was probably why gasoline was one of the top items pilfered from cars and gas stations.
“All of them,” Paris said. “Though we try not to use these cars except when necessary, since gasoline isn’t easy to obtain.”
Gripping the handle, she pulled the door open. The interior was just as sloppy, with upholstery that didn’t match. The seats had enough questionable stains and holes to make me wonder if I’d catch something by sitting on them. Rook went over to the driver’s side and got in, plopping down on the seat without pause.
Dark Horizons (The Red Sector Chronicles) Page 5
