“Right here, boss!” The British shade seemed to suddenly materialize at Alex’s elbow. “I need eyes on that roof,” Alex said, pointing. It was the only possible vantage point for Hector. “Can you go up and come down without getting killed?”
Sloane’s teeth flashed. “You know in horror movies, how one of the humans covers himself in gore and sneaks by the zombies?”
“Just go!”
Sloane vanished, and Alex went to check on Noelle and Reagan. Three windows and the windshield had been shattered on the Camry, but they looked unharmed. He wasn’t sure the car would run, so he called for Ruiz’s keys and tossed them to Reagan. “Get her out of here while you can,” he ordered.
The two women started to climb out, but Reagan handed the keys to Noelle. To Alex, she simply said, “I promised I would listen to Lindy. I didn’t say anything about you.” Then she followed Sloane toward the building, disappearing instantly.
Alex cursed and looked at Noelle. “Can you drive yourself out of here?”
She nodded. “Should I call the police?”
Alex hesitated. If he brought in more humans, would he doing any good, or just setting up a buffet?
Luckily, Faraday answered for him. “I’m calling the state cops from my department,” he announced, already pulling out a cell phone. “We’ll start securing these prisoners.”
Alex nodded a thank you and looked back at Noelle. “Call—” He paused, and realized he’d been about to say Gil. But Gil was dead. “Whoever else you can at the Bureau,” he said instead. “Get some of them here to help the state cops, and the rest to your building to start processing the scene. Jessica Reyes, the coroner, knows about shade violence; she should be there.”
Noelle nodded, and as Alex and his team finished gathering weapons, she started the pickup, bumped her way over a number of bodies, and pulled onto the street.
Sloane reappeared. “You guys better get up here,” he said breathlessly. “No joke. She needs help.”
“Go help her then!” Alex yelled.
“We’re trying! Hector keeps sending them at us!” Sloane turned and vanished again.
Alex looked at Hadley and Ruiz, wanting to give them an out. “I know this is really stupid—”
“But we’re gonna do it anyway,” Hadley interrupted. “We know. Let’s go, boss.”
Chapter 27
Harbor office
Sunday night
LINDY WAS BEING SWARMED.
Hector must have ordered them all to attack at once, and now shades were climbing over the side of the roof like ants to a picnic—if ants were super-fast, crazed, and armed.
At first she was okay, ducking and slashing and kicking out, but then Hector climbed onto the roof’s ledge so he could direct them like an orchestra. She took about six darts in the vest, dodging a couple that nearly hit her face. One of them swung an actual ax at her, and she had to throw herself sideways to avoid being dismembered. Lindy rolled to her feet and gritted her teeth with anger, which hurt her still-knitting cheekbone. She had come to fight Hector, and he was using over a dozen shades as his weapon of choice. Typical.
If she’d fed more, and more recently, it would have been easier, but once they started to crowd her, she knew she was running on borrowed time. A female successfully wrenched a push dagger from one of her hands, and Lindy felt real fear. She couldn’t even get the breathing room to form a strategy; she was just reacting. And she was going to lose.
Hector was on the edge of the roof.
Lindy did the only possible thing she could think of: she ran straight across the roof, as fast as she could, which surprised the attackers enough to keep them from stopping her. Hector, who had been concentrating on coordinating the entire outbreak, didn’t have time to react before she tackled him around the waist, hurling both of them off the roof.
Down, down they fell, each trying to position themselves to brace for landing. In films people could have whole fights while they fall, but the laws of aerodynamics just didn’t work like that. With great effort, Lindy managed to get her legs under her, landing in a half-crouch that cracked one ankle and the opposite kneecap.
Hector hadn’t fared as well: he’d landed on his back ten feet away, and she could tell by the way he went still that he’d snapped some vertebrae. He was still conscious, though, and staring straight up, his face was filled with terrible wrath.
She knew that expression. He was ready to burn it all down.
He could do anything: send his people after the BPI team, or the people of Chicago in general. Maybe he would order them to kill each other. At this moment, there really wasn’t anything that Hector wasn’t capable of.
Lindy needed to stop him now. She tried to stand up and succeeded only in toppling forward onto her hands and one good knee. She began dragging herself toward him, but all the required healing had weakened her. She wasn’t sure she could snap his neck again before Hector could heal himself. And if he got away again . . .
Alex, we’re back on the ground, northwest corner of the building. I need a dart now.
* * *
The order came into all their heads, every shade who’d been made by Hector, at the same time, in the same words.
Kill the BPI humans. Tear them apart.
It was a really, really unfortunate moment for Hadley, Alex, and Ruiz to burst through the roof doors.
Immediately, the shades closest to the door bared their teeth, tensing to spring. Ruiz, who was in the front, almost pissed himself.
And then a young blond woman in an army jacket stepped in front of him, between him and the mob. “Everybody stop,” she screamed, so loudly that Ruiz half-expected glass to shatter, like in a cartoon.
But it worked: the dozen or so vampires in front of her all froze with a look of confusion. Reagan was young, yes, but they were younger still.
“You don’t have to listen to him,” she said in a quieter voice. “I know he made you think you have to take orders. I know it feels good, it feels right, to obey him. He’s probably convinced you that you don’t have a choice. But you do not have to listen to him.”
For the first time, the shades seemed to pause and look at each other. “Who are you?” said a female shade near the front. She looked about forty, and wore a cardigan and high-waisted jeans.
Reagan took a breath. “My name is Reagan,” she answered. “And I used to be just like you.”
This seemed to confuse the other shades even further, but at least they’d stopped attacking. Ruiz glanced over his shoulder at Alex for new instructions—but Alex wasn’t there. He could hear feet pounding back the way they’d come.
What the hell?
* * *
Alex raced down the stairs, barely managing not to tumble down them headfirst. He didn’t know the building’s interior, but Hadley had broken a windowpane to get them in a side door, and he retraced the route with terror driving his limbs faster than he thought possible. His fear for Lindy was foremost, but a voice in his head, the cop voice, was also screaming that Hector couldn’t get away now, not after all this.
Panting, Alex burst through the outer door and ran around the corner—where he saw the strangest scene. Lindy was sitting on the pavement next to her brother, who was lying on his back, his arms and legs twitching in tiny, restless movements. Alex couldn’t hear what he was saying to her, but the look of terrible sorrow on her face physically hurt him.
Then he heard the sirens.
* * *
It was so odd: Lindy had spent all this time hating and chasing Hector, even trying to kill him, but in this quiet moment, her heart was just glad to see her twin brother. She wanted to lie down next to him and stare up at the sky, which had finally stopped spitting out rain. Being in Hector’s presence, not fighting him, felt so wrong . . . and at the same time completely natural.
“Come with me, then,” Hector was saying. “How long do you think you can play human? How long before they decide you’re too big of a threat to run free?”
“It’s not like that,” she protested, her voice coming out so much younger- and weaker-sounding than she’d wanted. “Alex isn’t like that.”
“Ah yes, Alex. You know if I go to Camp Vamp, I can still give orders. I can do anything, get to anyone. You’ll always be looking over your shoulder for the ones I send.”
Lindy tried to get hold of herself. “I could kill you,” she said. “Pretty much solve all my problems.”
“Could you?” Hector’s eyes were little-boy-huge. “I know you’re a killer, Lindy. But I’m the last person on the planet who knows you, who knows all of you. Even the dark parts. Could you really kill me?”
Lindy heard the sirens, then, and noticed Alex in her peripheral vision. He was sidling toward her.
“I know everything you’ve done, and I love you anyway,” Hector went on. “I’m the only one.”
Is that true?
She hadn’t realized she’d pushed the thought out until she heard Alex reply.
“Of course not, dummy,” he said. Lindy struggled to sit up so she could see him. Alex had stopped a few feet away, and when she looked over he grinned at her and tossed something small and shiny in her direction. Lindy caught the dart gun and turned it on her brother.
“Lindy, no—” Hector began. She tried to think of something to say, but what? She wasn’t sorry. She didn’t regret this. “Don’t—”
She pulled the trigger.
Unlike the other, younger shades, it took a moment for Hector’s eyes to begin to lose focus. “Remember the wheat?” he whispered.
She did: the two of them, age ten or eleven, spinning in endless circles in a field of tall wheat, letting the plants catch them as they fell over. They’d gotten in trouble for that, but Hector had told Papa that it had been his idea, and Papa had whipped him even though he hadn’t believed Hector for a second. “Hector . . .”
But his eyes fluttered closed. Lindy began to cry.
Chapter 28
AN HOUR LATER, LINDY was still sitting next to her brother’s body, although she had moved just a few feet away so she could see around the building to the parking lot. Alex was directing the state police around the crime scene. Some of the shades lying near the parked cars had started to decompose: they’d either been shot multiple times or bled out before they could heal. Apparently the methamphetamine slowed that down as well, at least for brand-new shades.
The rest of the unconscious shades, Hector included, were now sporting wrists and ankles covered in zip ties, to prevent them from escaping if they woke up early. The state police were struggling to haul all the bodies into vans for transport. Lindy knew she should really get up and help them, but she wasn’t letting Hector out of her sight for a second, not until he was in prison.
So she watched the action, and Alex called and texted frequently to give her updates and answer the questions she pushed into his head. Apparently, the remaining shades on the roof had vanished, along with Sloane and Reagan. Lindy had to kind of smile when Alex told her, picturing Reagan as the Pied Piper leading the new vampires away. Lindy wasn’t worried about Reagan reneging on their arrangement: the young woman wasn’t about to miss the opportunity to make real change. She would make sure the new shades disappeared into her little network of friends, and then she’d be back, with Sloane in tow.
Ruiz, Hadley, and Faraday had all been taken to the hospital, with a whole host of injuries that ranged from a three-inch scratch on Hadley’s forearm to Faraday’s chewed-up leg, which would probably require a blood transfusion. Noelle was at the hospital too, being treated for shock and the wound in her arm.
Only Alex and Chase remained, although the paramedics had really wanted to take Chase to the hospital too. He’d refused to leave until Alex did. Lindy intended to remedy that, so every few minutes she mentally nagged at Alex to get medical treatment. She planned to keep going until she wore him down.
Lindy heard someone approaching, and smelled Chase Eddy’s aftershave as he came around the side of the building. He limped over to her and laboriously sat down on the ground next to her and Hector. He put her missing push dagger on the ground between them, sliding it over. “Found this on the roof. Figured you didn’t want it processed into evidence.”
“Thank you.”
Neither of them said anything for a few minutes, watching Alex off in the distance.
“He’s good at this,” Chase observed. “I mean, I knew he was a good agent, but I wasn’t sure how he would handle the bureaucracy stuff. He’s doing great.”
“He is,” she agreed.
There was a brief pause, and then Chase said, “I haven’t told him yet, but I’ve made a decision. Tomorrow morning I’m turning in my resignation.”
For the first time, Lindy turned to look at him. Chase’s arm was in a sling, and there were a lot of bandages padded on his shoulder. He looked pale and tired—but at peace. For maybe the first time since that night in Heavenly.
“It wasn’t your fault, Chase,” she said. “It could have been any of you.”
“Not Alex.”
“But Hector wanted Alex distracting me. He picked you because it would hurt Alex the most, and throw everyone off.”
“Well, it worked,” Chase said simply. “I can’t be a federal agent anymore, Lindy. Not after all this. And especially not after Palmer.”
She sighed. But then, she understood, too. “What will you do?”
“Go back to Arizona, by my folks. I’ve got a little savings; I’ll take some time off, get to know my sister’s fiancé. When I called to get them away from the house, just in case Hector sent someone, Kate told me she’s two months pregnant. I want to be there for that.”
“And then?”
He shrugged. “Maybe I’ll join the local PD, maybe I’ll find something else. But I’m done here. I’m done.”
He said it with such finality, but Lindy could tell there was something else. She waited him out, and after a minute he glanced down at Hector.
“He’s not going to stop, you know,” Chase said quietly. “Even if he stays in Camp Vamp, he can do a lot of damage from the inside.”
Lindy’s insides felt heavy. “I know.”
“But you didn’t kill him.”
She looked down at her brother. It would be so easy. He was unconscious, and restrained. “I can’t,” she said simply. “Maybe in the heat of battle, but not like this. Not in cold blood. He’s my brother.”
“Lindy.” Chase met her eyes, and she saw there what he wanted her to know. A long, tense moment passed between them, and Lindy felt more tears spill down her cheeks. She made her decision and nodded.
Slowly, she stood up. “I think I’ll see about pilfering some blood bags from that ambulance,” she said, her voice only shaking a little. “Take care of yourself, Chase.”
“Take care of Alex, okay?” His voice, too, was cracking.
She glanced back at him over her shoulder. “You have my word.”
She began moving toward the group of cars. The little oasis of light had expanded exponentially, thanks to all the flashing police lights and ambulances. Alex was in the middle of them, looking exhausted. He glanced her way and smiled tiredly. She was definitely going to make him go to the hospital before he fell over.
Behind her, Lindy heard the metallic scratch of her push dagger being picked up off the pavement.
Epilogue
The Hoover Building, Washington, DC
Two weeks later
LINDY SAT IN THE small waiting area, flipping through an ancient magazine. She made a point to fidget a little: recrossing her legs, adjusting her new glasses. She was still getting used to both the glasses and her hair: now a rich dark red, cut just above her shoulders. It still surprised Lindy when she looked in a mirror, but she’d had to make that kind of adjustment many times before. She’d get used to it.
Finally, Alex strode down the hall toward her, buttoning his suit coat. The bruises from that night had faded almost completely. He looked goo
d . . . but unhappy. Lindy stood up to meet him.
“So? What did Harding say?” she asked when he got close.
He leaned in to kiss her cheek and shrugged. “Two more weeks of suspension, reprimand in my file, basically a slap on the wrist. They’re not even demoting me.”
“You sound . . . disappointed.”
“People died. If I had done things differently . . .”
She reached up and wrapped her arms around him. The night they’d first slept together, Lindy had worried that they’d have to hide any sort of relationship from everyone at work. Now that she was no longer Rosalind Frederick, though, nobody cared if she and Alex were together. It was nice. “Honestly, Alex? People were always going to die in apprehending Hector. Always. You did the best you could to minimize a necessary loss.”
He gave her a startled look, one that Lindy had seen before. She’d just reminded him that she was a powerful shade and not a human girlfriend. She wasn’t the only one making adjustments.
Alex gave a tiny, “agree to disagree” kind of shrug. “Did you get Reagan settled?” he asked, obviously ready to change the subject.
Lindy smiled. “Yes. She’s got a nice apartment near the Capitol, and now she’ll have plenty of money. As long as the media doesn’t figure out her address, she should be able to live under the radar for a bit, testifying to Congress when she can.” The entire world thought “Rosalind Frederick” had been responsible for Hector’s death, and Reagan was getting more positive press as a result. No one was talking about arresting her for being a shade. “And Sloane seems very happy being her bodyguard.”
“Do you think he’ll ever tell her he loves her?” Alex mused.
She grinned. “I think Sloane would wait the next thousand years for Reagan to figure it out for herself.”
Lindy took his arm, and they began walking back toward the parking garage. “So I’ve got two weeks before I can go back to work,” he said.
“What do you want to do?” she asked.
“We could go somewhere,” he suggested. “Someplace sandy, with really big beach umbrellas that are UV protected.”
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