by C. J. Hill
As he came to the corner of the building, he lifted the gun and peered around the side. The trees and shrubs made silhouettes against the night. He saw no people, no hostage. Someone was there though; his senses buzzed with a warning of their own.
That’s when he felt a sharp pain in his throat, like an angry wasp’s sting. Even before he put his hand to his neck, he knew it was a tranquilizer dart. He only had a few minutes before he lost consciousness—assuming that’s all he lost. The drug might do more damage than that.
The two possible results—a drugging that took away his power and memories, or death—shouldn’t have been equal in his mind, but the bitterness welling inside him didn’t differentiate between them. Either way, his Slayer memories and powers would be gone, and that would be a kind of death. He had let down his friends and his country.
He didn’t have time to make it back inside the hotel before passing out. He leaned against the side of the building and searched the grounds, looking for the person who’d shot him. The least Shang could do was return fire.
But no one moved across the grounds. The bushes didn’t stir.
The shooter was probably hiding behind the evergreens, and Shang was wasting his last moments of lucidity trying to exact revenge. He retreated around the corner of the building, peeled off the suit coat, and clumsily used his shirt to wipe his prints from the gun. At least that way, when the authorities found him, they wouldn’t know he’d drugged the man inside. As he finished wiping the gun, it fell from his hand. He didn’t bother picking it up. Instead, he got out his phone and turned it on. Maybe if he got to the hospital in time, doctors could counteract the drug and prevent it from doing damage.
Wishful thinking, he knew.
He called 911. “I need help,” he said, voice already slurring. “I’m at the Ashton Hotel “Outside. North corner.” It was hard to speak coherently. He had to concentrate on each word. His head felt heavy and disconnected from the rest of his body. “I was shot. Tranquilizer gun. Send paramedics. Flush out my system.”
“You were shot with what type of gun?” the operator asked.
He didn’t answer. A figure was floating in the air, coming toward him. He blinked to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.
Dirk hovered in front of him, wearing a dark suit, tie, and gloves. He plucked the phone from Shang’s hand and ended the call.
“I told you the truth,” Dirk said calmly, casually almost. “I didn’t want to shoot anyone. Especially not you.”
“Traitor,” Shang breathed out. He was losing the strength to stand. It was all he could do not to slide to the ground. He looked over to where he’d dropped the gun. It was only a couple feet away, but he couldn’t make his legs take him to it.
Dirk didn’t acknowledge the insult. “I trained you better than this. You should have expected an ambush. I knew you’d take Yen out and find his phone. I was counting on it. Did you think I would forget how capable you are? I was your captain. I know firsthand.”
Shang willed his legs to move; he took a step toward the gun. If he managed to shoot Dirk, the paramedics would find him too. When Dirk woke up he’d be surrounded by doctors and police who would question him, and more importantly, look into his identity.
Dirk scrolled through Shang’s phone, deleting their texting exchange. “I’d stay and chat, but I’ve got evidence to get rid of.” He tossed Shang’s phone to the ground. “I don’t suppose you’ll tell me where you left Yen?”
Shang’s legs didn’t hold his weight. He tumbled forward and would have fallen face first if Dirk hadn’t grabbed him.
Dirk slowly lowered him to the ground. “Sorry,” he said, and his voice seemed to waver and fade as if he were far away. “Believe me, though, this is better than the alternative.”
Chapter 26
Jesse was doing homework in his bedroom when he got a warning message from Dr. B saying that Overdrake’s men had found Shang in New York. New York. Even if Dr. B had thought it prudent to send backup, Shang was too far away for any Slayers to help. None of them could do anything but wait for an update.
Dr. B finished the message with, I don’t believe anyone else’s location has been compromised. Nevertheless, be careful.
For a while, Jesse paced his room telling himself Shang would be okay. Shang was trained and had Slayer senses. Jesse had fought off an attack from Overdrake’s men last month; Shang could too. He was as strong and smart. He’d come out on top.
While Jesse paced, he sent Tori a message. This might be a good time to start carrying weapons around, even if you’re just changing into pajamas.
She wrote back. I’m armed to the teeth. Okay, not really, but you still don’t have to worry about me. I’m safe at home.
He worried anyway.
An hour later, another message from Dr. B arrived. Hugh is in the hospital.
That was Shang’s code name because it was close to “huo,” the Chinese word for fire. Aside from being drugged, he’s fine. I’ll keep you apprised as I get more details.
For a moment, Jesse was too shocked to do anything—even react—but then anger washed over him and settled into sharp fury. Overdrake had put Shang in the hospital. His friend had been drugged. He wouldn’t be fine. They’d lost a Slayer. And they already had too few.
Jesse’s anger had nowhere to go, and nothing he could do with it. This was why people had punching bags. Sometimes you just needed to hit something. He went down to the basement and ran on the treadmill instead. He pushed himself, running and running, until he couldn’t go any faster, until he ached with the effort and his lungs burned. The workout wasn’t nearly as satisfying as hitting something would have been.
An hour into his run, Dr. B called. Jesse turned off the treadmill and answered, panting. “How is he?”
Dr. B sounded weary. “I’m afraid his memories may be gone. I’d like you to visit him after school tomorrow. He should be home by then.”
“Wait, what do you mean, his memories may be gone? You’re not sure?” Jesse wanted to hold on to hope. Even a thin thread was better than nothing.
“When he awoke,” Dr. B explained, “his mother asked what had happened. She was sure a member of the drug cartel tried to kill him. He told her he couldn’t remember anything about a cartel, or any case he was supposed to testify in.”
Of course Shang couldn’t remember. The case didn’t exist. If Shang still remembered being a Slayer, he would also have known the drug story was a front.
“I’ll arrange for someone to go with you,” Dr. B went on. “See if he’s retained any memories of being a Slayer.”
Part of Jesse wanted to argue that the assignment was useless. No other drugged Slayers had ever recalled the truth about themselves. Their memories of being a Slayer had transformed into vague recollections of playing camp games. But the other part of Jesse knew he had to talk to Shang, at least to try to reach him.
Still, the visit could be dangerous.
“When Leo and Danielle lost their memories, we talked to them. Dirk knows that,” Jesse pointed out. “Overdrake might have people staking out the hospital so he can trail Hugh home. He’ll be watching for us.”
“Hugh’s parents believe he’s still in danger. I’ve already discussed the evasive maneuvers they’ll need to take to ensure that he’s not tracked from the hospital. It’s imperative for you to keep contact with him and convince him to adhere to protocol.”
Meaning staying away from alcohol and drugs.
Given enough time—perhaps a year or two—the pathways in his brain that accessed his powers would heal and regrow—but only if no other drugs were in his system during that time. None of the Slayers were allowed to smoke, drink, or ingest anything that changed their brain chemistry. Jesse was so paranoid about the possibility of losing his memories that he even stayed away from Tylenol.
The protocol conversation wasn’t one he looked forward to having. How did you bring that sort of thing up without it seeming awkward?
�
��I’ll no longer be able to check on him,” Dr. B continued. “He’ll think it’s odd to hear from his camp director. However, Hugh won’t think it’s strange for his camp friends to visit.”
“I can go as soon as I get home from school,” Jesse said.
Dr. B must have heard the discouragement in Jesse’s voice. “All is not lost,” he said. “Historical records attest that there’s a way for Slayers to regain their powers quickly. I just need to find out how.”
Dr. B had been searching through medieval records for years, but wasn’t any closer to finding the quick cure than he’d been when he first started. Jesse wasn’t about to point this out.
“I’ll arrange for a drop off,” Dr. B said. That meant he’d leave a car on the street for Jesse to drive—less chance of anyone seeing it at Shang’s house and tracing it back to Jesse’s family. “I’ll give you more details as I arrange them.” Dr. B then gave Jesse a list of numbers—code for the coordinates for Shang’s address. That bit of information—Shang’s address, seemed like Dr. B’s verdict on Shang’s chances of remaining a Slayer. Shang was gone and Dr. B knew it.
* * *
Thursday morning while Jesse got ready for school, Dr. B sent a message. Edison has a library book to lend you. Pick it up at your convenience.
Edison was Theo’s code name, and “at your convenience” meant outside his house, right now. Jesse had forgotten what “library book” was supposed to mean.
He went out his front door and found Theo sitting in a car parked by his lawn. Sunglasses perched on his nose, and a baseball cap hid most of his curly hair. He rolled down his window as Jesse walked up.
“Hey, Ed,” Jesse said.
Theo held out a flash drive that had been put into a Ziploc bag to prevent fingerprints.
“That’s the library book?” Jesse asked.
Theo looked at him over the top of his sunglasses. “I don’t really go in for all of the codename nonsense.”
“Yeah, it gets confusing for all of us.” Jesse took the bag and slipped it into his pocket. “Sometimes you have to go along with it to humor Dr. B. What’s on the flash drive?”
“Dirt on Senator Whatever-his-code-name-is. Emails about gun deliveries, mostly. There’s also an audio file of him talking to an arms smuggler. A shipment is coming through the Newark port tomorrow morning at six.”
Theo gestured to the pocket that Jesse had put the flash drive in. “Make sure Tori gets it to her father as soon as possible. If the feds can catch Overdrake’s men, maybe one of them will turn on him.” Theo started the car’s ignition. “At the very least, we’ve got to keep Overdrake from getting those weapons tomorrow.”
Jesse nodded, considering the information. “Shouldn’t you turn the recording over to the FBI?”
“That’s what I’m doing next,” Theo said. “FBI, ATF, and the Coast Guard. I’m one big lending library today.”
“Good luck with that.”
“I’ll need it,” Theo said. “The FBI doesn’t work very fast or hard on anonymous tips. Let’s hope Tori’s dad has more pull.”
Senator Hampton definitely had pull. Convincing him to use it would be another matter.
Chapter 27
On the way to school, Tori sat in the backseat of the BMW, finishing her math. Lars never spoke while driving. He said it disturbed his concentration. Which was fine by Tori. It wasn’t like she wanted to talk to him anyway. The man had two facial expressions: scowl and suspicious scowl.
Her phone chimed—a text from Aaron. He was in her contacts as DLJ, short for Dragon Lord Junior.
I still haven’t changed my mind.
And she still hadn’t come up with a better plan, or one that would dissuade him from contacting his father. Was sending Aaron in as a mole a good idea or a horrible one? Most of the time, it seemed like a horrible one.
Give it more thought, she wrote.
His reply was almost immediate. Can’t. This is the fair’s last weekend. Tell Dirk.
She sighed. Aaron may have been half dragon lord, but he seemed to have inherited the zeal and optimism of a Slayer. She wrote two words: On Friday. He had one more day to change his mind. And she had one more day to decide if she could live with Aaron’s death on her conscience.
Last night after Dr. B had informed them that Shang’s memory was gone, a lot of messages had flown back and forth among the Slayers. Tori spent an hour in tears and another hour wallowing in hot chocolate while wondering how many Slayers would be left when Overdrake attacked the country. Would she be killed off quickly by the dragon, or would she have to watch the few remaining Slayers die first?
Perhaps desperate times called for desperate measures, measures that might risk a twelve-year-old’s life. Weren’t all the Slayers already risking their lives?
Lars drove to the school’s security checkpoint, and the guard waved him through. Technically, Tori was supposed to show her school ID, and Lars was required to show documentation that he was an approved driver, but the school staff knew them both by sight.
A few minutes later, Lars pulled up to the building and waited for her to get out. Even on days when she had a ton of stuff to lug around, he never helped her with it. He said bodyguards had to keep their hands free in case they needed to use them, but Tori was pretty sure he just didn’t want to carry her stuff.
She hurried into the school, wishing skirts weren’t part of the girls’ uniform. Whoever came up with the dress code had obviously never trekked across campus in the cold wearing only tights to keep their legs warm.
Her watch buzzed with a message from Jesse. Meet me at your locker.
She’d given him her cell phone number yesterday—a Slayer rule infraction, yes, but it didn’t seem so important now that they went to the same school. The fact that he’d used his watch instead of his phone to contact her meant he had Slayer business to discuss. Probably some sort of an assignment.
Meetings at lockers? she wrote. Are we already at that stage of our relationship?
Definitely. And besides, I have a library book for you from the doctor.
A library book? Jesse wouldn’t be happy she’d forgotten what that was code for. She pushed her way through students milling around the halls and finally answered.
I’d come up with a response that totally made sense if I knew what a library book was. She sent it, realized how the text sounded, then added, I know what real library books are.
She heard Jesse laughing before she saw him. He’d come down the hallway to intercept her and was shaking his head at her message. She walked over and swatted him. “I read all the time.”
He lifted his hands to show that he wasn’t arguing the point. “I know. I still remember lugging around all those books you brought to camp.”
Back when she’d first enrolled in camp, she imagined she would have time to lounge by the lake and relax with a paperback. It never happened. She’d been too busy training.
She continued toward her locker with Jesse beside her. No one paid any attention to them, but she still kept her voice low. “Any news about Shang?”
Jesse’s smile slipped. “No. I’m going to see him after school.”
The weight of his words hung between them, heavy and hopeless.
Tori tried for optimism. “Maybe he’ll recover before Overdrake attacks.”
“Maybe,” Jesse said, although he didn’t sound like he believed it. He pulled a Ziploc bag from his pocket and handed it to her. A flash drive. “We need an in with someone who’s got some authority. Give this to your father as soon as you can. It’s evidence of Senator Ethington’s involvement in arms smuggling. A shipment is coming through the Newark Port tomorrow at six in the morning.”
“A shipment for Overdrake?”
“That’s the assumption.”
She slipped the drive into her backpack. “I’m surprised Dr. B isn’t sending us to intercept the shipment.”
She was joking. She didn’t really think Dr. B would send them to New Jersey at the c
rack of dawn to steal assault rifles from under the noses of arms dealers.
But Jesse nodded, as if she’d mentioned a reasonable possibility. “He wants the FBI to track down the smugglers. They won’t be able to do that if we steal the evidence.”
Really, Jesse was far too willing to go places where people wanted to shoot him.
They reached Tori’s locker and walked over to it. “How am I supposed to have gotten the evidence?”
Jesse shrugged. “A mysterious stranger approached you with it?”
“This may surprise you, but I don’t meet a lot of mysterious strangers. For that matter, not many boring ones, either. My bodyguard sees to that.”
While she twirled her combination, Jesse leaned against the next locker. “Then you’ll have to come up with some other credible story. Just make sure you get the flash drive to your dad today before he leaves work. If he has the evidence while he’s still on Capitol Hill, maybe he’ll show it to other senators and bust Ethington on the spot.”
Tori wasn’t sure what sort of legal process was needed to remove Ethington from a position of power. Whatever it took, she’d do her part to see that it happened. “Okay. If you need an in, I’m your girl.”
Jesse smiled. “Yes, you are.”
Chapter 28
After school, Jesse picked Lilly up from a bus stop in Vienna, Virginia, and the two of them drove to Shang’s home in Fairfax. Lilly brought balloons and a plate of chocolate chip cookies, which made Jesse feel guilty about not bringing anything.
Lilly remained composed on the drive as they hammered out the details of their story, but her red eyes belied her easy tone. Last month, she’d lost Alyssa, her best friend in the Slayers, and now her counterpart was gone too. She looked resolutely out at the road like a martyr determined to endure whatever horrible fate awaited.
After a long pause, Jesse said, “I know how you feel.” Specifically, he felt like a part of him had been dragged, roughshod, behind a moving car.
