He gasped, clutched the door frame, and then went down.
Someone behind him returned fire at me.
I slammed down into the floor again, and the bullets narrowly missed me.
I heard more shots. Lots of them. They were all so loud and so close, and I didn’t know where they were coming from. Was Axel shooting? Was it the other guys?
My chest was starting to feel tight, and I was starting to feel disconnected.
It was too much noise, too many people, and it was starting to get to me.
They were coming for us. And they had knives too. Knives and needles and scalpels and… so many sharp things.
No. I couldn’t think about that. That wasn’t happening now. That was over. Silas and I won. We’d gotten them all, and they hadn’t hurt us, and—
But it was no good. I could already feel it. I was starting to freeze up.
I tried to yell, to tell Axel—something, I don’t know what, just to let him know.
But my throat felt closed, and I couldn’t force air through my lungs.
I told myself to move, to go up over the bed and shoot again, put as many bullets as I could in the men who were coming for me. I told myself I had to do it, that they’d kill me otherwise.
But my body wouldn’t move.
I had a vise grip on my gun, my head tense, facing forward, my body spread out on the floor, my stomach against the motel-issue carpet.
And I was frozen.
God damn it.
Silas was right about me. I couldn’t handle this. And now no one was going to save him. He was going to rot away there, and I wasn’t going to be able to do anything for him. All the things that he’d done for me, I’d never be able to repay them. Because I was worthless and weak. I was pathetic. I needed protection. I couldn’t be a protector.
The sound of the gunfire echoed around me, punctuating all my thoughts like a thousand periods. No question about it. I was worthless.
And then a shadow fell across the bed.
Someone was close.
Move, Sloane, I urged myself.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I couldn’t even look up to see my attacker. All I could see were his black shoes in front of my face. Because I couldn’t even crane my neck or roll over or bring up my gun.
There was another gunshot. Closer. Louder.
And then the pain burst into me, agonizing. I could move then. I writhed, trying to twist into position to shoot him.
But it hurt so bad.
And it was getting worse, so much worse…
And everything went black.
LEIGH
They never brought Knox back.
Of course, we couldn’t be sure how much time was passing. They were no windows to see the passage of the sun, and they’d taken everything from us that could tell the time. They never turned the lights off, so we were never sure if it was night.
They brought food again. Twice.
But never Knox.
Silas had spent hours swearing a lot and trying to pry the door open, but he hadn’t had any luck. Then he’d disappeared into one of the bathroom stalls for hours, and he wouldn’t say what he was doing. He just kept yelling swears every so often.
I wondered if what was happening to Knox was happening to him, just from being in here. Maybe it was the isolation that had driven Knox batty. Or maybe they were pumping something in through the air.
But if so, I didn’t think it was doing much to Griffin and me. Of course, we weren’t spending much time talking to each other either. Griffin spent most of his time sprawled out on one of the cot mattresses. I sat next to him. Sometimes we held each other. Mostly, we didn’t.
Then came the pounding on the door. “Face the wall and put your hands against it.”
Wearily, we all did what we were told.
I half expected Silas to try something, but he didn’t. He came out of the bathroom stall and put his hands against the wall too.
We all stood there and waited.
They came in, six of them. One of them had handcuffs, and they put them on Griffin.
I broke away from the wall. “What are you doing?”
One of them showed me his gun. He didn’t say anything.
They started to drag Griffin away.
“No,” I said. “No, you can’t take him.” And I launched myself onto the men who were holding him.
The gun went off.
Pain.
Dark.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was Axel. He was bent over me, and his face loomed huge in my vision.
I blinked. My head was in Axel’s lap.
“Fuck.” He touched my cheek. “I thought you were dead.”
Where was I? What had happened? Oh, right, the motel room. The men with guns. “I’m fine. I’m hard to kill.”
“You scared me to death,” he said. And then he kissed me.
His lips pressed into mine, soft but insistent. A dark and enticing sensation trickled through my body, and I felt desire begin to stir behind my belly button. Warmth was growing between my legs.
His hand slid behind my head to cup it. He tangled his fingers in my hair, holding me in place as he nudged his tongue into my mouth. Sweetness exploded. I was swept away by it.
For a second.
And then I realized this was weird. I didn’t want Axel to kiss me. I shoved him off. “What the hell?”
He furrowed his brow.
I scrambled to my feet. I was shaking. “Why… why did you do that?”
“I was happy that you were alive.” His eyes were wide. He looked a little surprised too. He got to his feet and began to rearrange the lapels of his suit jacket.
I ran my hand through my hair, surveying the room. All of the men who’d broken in lay motionless on the ground. The rest of the place was a wreck. The TV screen had been shattered. So had the vase that used to hold silk flowers. There were bullet holes in the walls.
“What happened?”
“Well, I kind of shot them,” said Axel. “Actually, it’s a little bit weird, because they sort of seem to keep coming back to life.”
I turned to him sharply. “What?”
“Yeah, there’s one.” Axel whipped up the Beretta. One of the men in the corner was struggling to raise his head. His face was streaked with blood.
Axel pulled the trigger.
The man’s head snapped back, and he crumpled to the floor.
“It’s kind of like they’re zombies,” said Axel. “But, um, Armstrong seems to be like actually dead.”
I went over to Armstrong, whose head was hanging into his chest. His neck was bloody. I nudged his shoulder, and he toppled over, face down. “Yeah,” I said. “His spine. A bullet went clean through it. Severing the spine is the only way to kill people with the serum.” I looked back at the dead men. “They must all have the serum.”
Another one was twitching.
Axel walked over to him, put the gun against his head, and pulled the trigger.
I took a deep breath. “We can’t stay here.”
“Yeah,” said Axel, “it’s really a hole-in-the-wall hotel.”
“Because of the bodies and the bullet holes.”
“And that.” He fumbled with his tie, and then he just untied it and yanked it off. “Also, I don’t know what we’re going to do about that dress.”
I looked down at it. It had been a little bloody before, but now it was ruined. I made a face. “I’ll pay for it.”
“It’s one of a kind,” said Axel. “I don’t think…” He considered. “No, you better let me take care of it. I know Phillipa, and I’ll talk to her. I can convince her that the dress wasn’t one of her best designs and that it’s better if she lets it go.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Seriously?”
“I got skills.” He gave me a lopsided smile.
I honed in on his lips, which were perfectly formed. I thought about the way they’d felt on my l
ips. I gulped. “You need to get away from me.”
“Seriously?” He scratched the back of his neck. “I’m pretty sure I just saved your ass here.”
“Before they wake up again.” I went over to my suitcase and started to zip it up. “You get the fuck out of here.”
“What about you?”
I stalked across the room to the bathroom. When I opened the door, Jeff’s lifeless body slid out onto the floor. Shit. Sorry, Jeff. I retrieved my toothpaste and shampoo. “I’ll get out of here too. But I can’t worry over you right now. You’re in the way.”
“I’m in the way?” He glared at me. “I think these guys would have taken you if I hadn’t been here.”
He was probably right, but he was making me nervous. He kissed me. He kissed me. It had been a long time since anyone had kissed me, and it had to be Axel freaking Whitman?
Flustered, I shoved my toothpaste into my suitcase. “I… I need to focus. You need to go away.”
He licked his lips. “Well, am I going to see you again?”
“I doubt it.”
He was quiet. Then he shrugged and relaxed. “Yeah, okay. I guess you’re right. I should go.” He started for the door. Then he turned. “Look, if you want—oh, there’s a guy waking up behind you.”
I whirled, leveling my gun and shooting the guy.
“You sure you don’t want me to stick around?”
“Positive,” I said.
He pursed his lips. “All right.” He opened the door and sauntered through.
The door closed, and I stared at it. I dragged my hands over my face.
Man.
Why did he have to be such a good kisser?
* * *
I found another hotel on the other side of town and paid for a room with cash. Once I was checked in, I flung myself down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. I’d frozen up. I couldn’t believe I’d let that happen. And if Axel hadn’t been there, I would have been captured by the same people who had the others. I’d escaped but narrowly.
I couldn’t freeze up again. I had to keep it from happening, because I didn’t have anyone to count on. There was only me. I sure as fuck wasn’t going anywhere near Axel Whitman ever again.
And before I could think anything else, I fell asleep. Apparently, I was exhausted.
I woke up still wearing the dress from the night before. It was really gross now. I’d sweat into it and the filmy fabric stuck to my skin. I tugged the thing off and got in the shower.
The shower was going to help me think.
As the jets of hot water pounded into my skin, I pondered why it was that the water pressure in hotels was never quite right. And then I scolded myself for thinking about water pressure when I didn’t even know if Leigh had any water. At all.
I’d lost James Armstrong.
Which meant that even though I was lucky to be alive and free, I really hadn’t accomplished anything.
Hello, square one. Nice to see you again.
I finished the shower quickly, wrapped up in towels and went back out into my hotel room.
What did I know? I knew that Leigh and the others were test subjects for Armstrong’s experiments. I knew that he had a secret lab, and that it wasn’t in the main building.
And I didn’t know where that lab was.
That was what I needed to find out.
Because if I knew, I could figure out a way in, and then I could rescue my friends.
How was I going to find out the location of that secret lab? Jeff hadn’t known. I hadn’t gotten the information from Armstrong. Who else would know?
Of course, I had to admit that the grab-and-interrogate strategy I’d been using left something to be desired. So far, it had only caused problems for me.
I needed to do this smarter. I needed to figure out who knew, and get them to give me the information without holding them at gunpoint. But who? And how?
I toweled off my hair, coming up with nothing.
My phone rang.
Jesus, who was calling me? Was it Christa? I hadn’t talked to her in a few days, even though I’d noticed a few missed calls from her. I hadn’t called her back because I had nothing to tell her. But I should probably keep in touch with her. What if something happened to her?
My God, this was too much to keep track of. I’d never done this kind of thing on my own before.
I snatched up the phone. “Christa?”
“Who’s Christa?”
Shit. “Axel.” I’d forgotten that he had my phone number.
“Good morning.” He sounded cheery. “What are you doing?”
“Why are you calling me?”
“To see what you’re doing. So… what are you doing?”
“I’m strategizing. I’m not any closer to rescuing Leigh, which is what I’m trying to do here, remember?”
“Cool,” he said. “I’ll come over and help.”
What? Was he kidding me? “No, Axel, I think it would be better if we went our separate ways.”
“Oh, come on, you need someone to bounce ideas off, don’t you? Who better than me?”
“I don’t need—”
“Sure, you do. Everybody needs somebody. Where are you?”
The hell of it was, I was thinking about it. Maybe it would be easier to have someone to talk to. Maybe Axel could help me strategize. Maybe if I laid out the whole thing for him, he’d see something I hadn’t seen. It wasn’t as if I had anyone else to talk to, after all.
* * *
Axel showed up in a pair of purple pants with a lemon-colored sweater and a paisley scarf.
“Do you have any normal clothes?” I asked him. I was back in jeans and a t-shirt.
He smirked and didn’t answer my question.
He’d brought over bagels from some shop in town, complete with all kinds of spreads and toppings. We sat at the table in my hotel room, munched on bagels, drank coffee, and I explained everything to him. I told him all about Op Wraith, how we’d all worked there. How Griffin and Leigh had destroyed the place. How French and Thorn had managed to survive, and how we’d blown up the Auxiliary Unit, and now they were both out of the way. How Leigh had been captured, how we’d gone after her, and how Griffin and Silas had been captured too. And finally, how I needed to find the location of the secret lab to get them back.
When I was finished, he set down his cream-cheese-slathered bagel. “This is your life? That’s crazy.”
“It’s not always my life. Usually, I just go to class and come home, and nothing out of the ordinary happens. That’s the way I want it. I don’t like all the danger and violence.”
“Yeah, I can see how that could wear on a person. I was so exhausted last night that I fell asleep without the help of pills, and that never happens. I’m usually too wired from blow.”
I stuffed the last of my black-olive-and-onion-topped bagel into my mouth, chewed, and swallowed. “Why do you do drugs anyway?”
“Because it’s fun.”
“Is it really fun? I mean, aren’t you actually addicted?”
He considered. “Maybe.”
“Isn’t it going to cause lots of damage to your nose? I’ve seen pictures of people that overindulge. Not pretty.”
He took a drink of coffee. “Well, I haven’t done anything today. I’m completely sober. Sometimes, when I’ve had a lot of blow, I don’t really give other people the chance to talk, and I wanted to listen to you.”
I wasn’t sure how to take that. I was actually a little bit flattered, but I knew I shouldn’t be, because he’d basically just admitted that he was a shitty person. Still, the thought that he kind of didn’t want to be shitty to me, well…
Argh. What was happening to me?
I looked at his lips again. I blushed. I was stuffed, but I grabbed another bagel and started smearing jam all over it. “Well, um, I do need a sounding board. So, what I’m thinking is that I need to figure out who else might know where Armstrong’s secret lab is.”
“Ooh,
are we going to kidnap them at gunpoint?” He looked eager. “I wouldn’t mind watching you handle a gun again. Especially in that dress. You looked really good last night.”
I felt hot all over. Like my blush was blushing. I set down the bagel and the knife. “Stop saying things like that.”
“Like what?”
“About me looking good. I know you don’t really mean it, and—”
“I don’t say things I don’t mean.”
I glanced up at him.
He had a very intense expression on his face. “I’m not that kind of person. I hate that shit. When I was growing up, I watched my mother and her friends have conversations in which everyone spouted all kinds of polite bullshit. They were all lying to each other’s faces, and it made them two-faced and cruel. I could see right then that honesty was the better way to go. At least that way, everyone knows where they stand. So, I might have faults, but I’m always honest. I don’t see the point in lying.”
I drew in breath. He was honest, wasn’t he? That was what made him so hard to take. He didn’t have any problem saying whatever he thought, even if it was unpleasant. So, if he said I looked good, he meant it. I let out my breath slowly. “Well, you shouldn’t think things like that about me.”
He stroked his chin. “I don’t think you can control what I think.”
“I’m only saying that I… hate you. And I don’t want anything to do with you, so—”
“That’s why you invited me over to help you with strategy? Because you hate me?”
I blushed again. Jesus, was this never going to stop? I felt like my face was on fire.
“You know, Sloane, it doesn’t seem like you’re very good at saying what you mean.”
Fine. I glared at him. “Why did you kiss me last night?”
“I told you. I was glad you were alive.”
“Why do you care if I’m alive?”
He drew back, knitting his brows. “Well, I don’t want you to die. I don’t want anyone to die.”
“You didn’t have any problem shooting that bodyguard last night. You thought he was dead. You didn’t care about that.”
“Well, that’s different. He was trying to kill you. I had to shoot him to save you. It’s different if you’re protecting someone.”
Sloane Page 9
