Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
It’s nearly three hours before Lily’s phone rings.
Three. Hours.
To say that I’m wound up would be like calling the Pacific Ocean a bit of water. I mean, I get it, first they were prepping, then they were actually raiding, and they didn’t really have time to be giving us a play-by-play. But seriously, would a text while they were en route have hurt?
Ugh.
Anyway, Lily answers practically as soon as the ringing starts, before I’ve managed to scrape myself off the ceiling. My shifter instincts may need some honing, because her reaction time was way better than mine.
She’s uh-huh-ing and yes-ing, but she makes eye contact with me and smiles and nods. Part of me relaxes, and I wait impatiently for her to end the call.
“It’s all good,” she says finally. “Raids in three compounds were successful. They found the kidnapped couples—the final count hasn’t come in yet, but Andrew says it looks like all of them. They also made a ton of arrests and confiscated heaps of research and records.”
I sag in my seat, the last modicum of stress deserting me. “Good. Okay. That’s great. Uh, did he say whether the couples had been… uh, experimented on?”
She grimaces. “Unfortunately, they’re not sure. The couples were all forced to give blood and tissue samples, and they were all examined more than once, but nobody told them what was going on, so they don’t know anything. We’ll have to hope the interrogations and records can tell us more.”
Nodding, I process that. The thing about sorcery is that it doesn’t necessarily require surgery. I didn’t think to ask David earlier if the genetic adjustments could have been made nonsurgically.
“I need the bathroom,” I realize suddenly.
The adrenaline is seeping away, and my body is reasserting normal functionality.
“I’ll be back. Uh, did they say if they were coming back here?
” I edge toward the door, trying not to squirm.
That would be totally uncool, and as close as Lily and I are, she’d never let me forget it if I danced from foot to foot like a kid.
Of course, she’d also never let me forget it if I wet my pants.
“They’re not sure yet. Andrew said they were still processing the compound and overseeing the removal of evidence.”
“Sure.” I give up on maintaining dignity and make a mad dash for the bathroom. Lily’s laughter follows me down the hall.
I’ve done my business and am washing my hands when my skin begins to tingle.
My inner energy is rising, crawling beneath the surface, my cat pushing, pushing.
A side effect of the compelled shift? Fuck, am I going to spontaneously shift?
I have to get out of here—the door is closed, and Lily will come looking for me eventually, but I really don’t want people saying “Remember the time Sam spontaneously shifted and got trapped in the bathroom?”
I shut off the water, swipe my hands with a towel, and open the door. It’s not until I’m halfway down the hallway that I realize I can smell more than just Lily in the living room.
Strangers.
In my apartment.
Fuck.
What do I do? Is Lily okay? I have to make sure she’s okay, but… I’m pretty sure I’m smelling three different strangers. Maybe more. There are a lot of scents in the apartment right now, since there were so many people here earlier, and I’m still not used to filtering them.
I would be useless against three assailants. Let’s face it, I wouldn’t be much good against one. But I have to help Lily.
And I definitely can’t stand frozen here in the hallway. If I can smell them, they can smell me. The only advantage I have is that my scent is all over the apartment, so they may not yet have realized that I’m in the hallway now and not the bathroom.
Or that I’m here at all? Could the residual layers of scent have thrown them off? Maybe Lily told them I went with the others? Maybe they’re not shifters and can’t smell me at all? How do the other species differentiate between each other? Why did I never ask?
Fuck. I don’t know what to do. I wish Gideon was here. I wish they’d all come back right now and save the day. My stomach is all twisty and heaving.
Oh my fuck, I can’t believe I’m this fucking stupid! The panic button. Where’s my phone? Is it… did I leave it on the coffee table or on the kitchen counter? I took it with me when I went to get water, because I didn’t want it out of reach in case it rang.
From the living room, I hear movement.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Think, Sammy. Sweat trickles down my spine.
I had it in my hand when I went back to work. I was checking the screen every two minutes.
The vague sounds of movement turn to footfalls, incredibly light, but still audible to my shifter senses.
Fuck. My brain won’t work .
It was beside my laptop. I kept looking at it. So it’s probably still—
No. I put it in my pocket so I’d feel it vibrate but not be tempted to look at it all the time.
I fumble in my pocket, and yes, it’s still there. Panic is clouding my brain. I’m starting to feel lightheaded as adrenaline pumps through my system, but the footsteps are coming closer.
I don’t bother pulling the phone out, just feel for the button. Three times, David said. Three times fast.
There’s a short, sharp vibration in my hand, and I pray that’s a sign of success and not the phone asking me to input a passcode.
The light at the end of the hall is blocked out.
It’s too late to worry about the panic button.
Seizing every last iota of courage inside me, I charge toward the figure.
I need to see if Lily is okay. Maybe my charge will distract them and the two of us can make a run for it.
The figure makes a startled noise, and then I’m ramming into it with all my weight and the power of my running start behind me.
It’s not much, and he’s huge—demon, maybe, or hellhound.
I don’t have time to analyze his scent—but he wasn’t ready for me and stumbles back a few steps, enough for me to get past him and into the living room.
And skid to a stop.
There aren’t three of them.
There are five.
And there’s no way Lily can make a run for it, seeing as she’s lying bound and gagged on the floor, eyes closed, bleeding from her head.
Fuck. Fuck!
What do I do?
Make a decision .
They’ve already started moving toward me when I spin and dart toward the slider out to the tiny balcony. I’m four floors up, but cats always land on their feet, right?
I hope so, because there’s no way I can take on five of them, but I can hide, get the others here, and rescue Lily. Maybe if they’re all searching for me, I can double back and help Lily before the others even get here.
Resolutely ignoring the fact that I have no idea where I’m going to hide—I’ll worry about that once I’m out of arm’s reach—I get the slider open and make it out onto the balcony.
Two more steps, then jump up on the rail. Hope that shifter instincts will help me do that, because there’s no way human me could ever have done it. Should I shift? Do I have time for that?
One more ste—
A hand catches the back of my shirt.
No .
I tear free and stumble forward, but then there’s a tight grip on my arm and a blow to the side of my head that makes my ears ring.
I blink and yank forward. I’m so close. I just need to get free.
Forcing back tears of frustration, I struggle hard against my captor’s grip as I watch the balcony railing move farther away.
The asshole drags me back inside and another guy—also huge, but an incubus—closes the slider and flips the lock, adding a few seconds to any further escape plan I might have.
I’m dragged over to the sofa and shoved down. My new shifter reflexes kick in and I manage to land reasonably gracefully, then bound back up to my feet.
The asshole shoves me down again. “Stay there.” He sounds pissed, but so am I, and I’m back on my feet instantly, glaring at him, daring him to shove me again.
The backhand I don’t see coming knocks me to the floor. I lie there, my cheek on fire and my eye feeling like it’s going to explode out of the socket. My ears are ringing again, and I can’t quite get my brain to focus.
Hard hands grab my arm and haul me to my feet. I sway slightly, my head spinning violently, but manage not to throw up or fall over. I’m shoved back onto the sofa.
“Do as you’re told, and it will hurt less.”
I swallow down bile but don’t bother to respond. My gaze lands on Lily, still unconscious—I hope. I’ve never stared at a woman’s chest so hard—or at all—in my life, but finally I make out a tiny movement. She’s breathing. That’s enough for now.
One of the other invading bastards moves toward me, and I look up, blinking away the dizziness.
It’s like someone just knocked me over again.
I lean forward and vomit, and I’m so off-kilter, I don’t even care about the rug or the fact that some of it’s on my feet.
Because I know this man.
Only he’s not who I thought he was.
The distinct scent of a sorcerer cuts through the tang of vomit, and in the next second, a hand grips my hair and yanks my head back.
“Hello, Sam.”
I stare up at my childhood doctor.
Fuck.