without my complete memory, and now I can’t remember what I was too afraid to tell him before I died. Until I remember what I’ve forgotten, I can’t clear us.”
“Why bother?”
I balled my fists. “Why bother what? Saving him?”
“No, I understand that. Why bother trying to clear yourselves in the first place when it’s easier just to run?”
Running had never been an option. Not even that first night, fresh from the deaths of Jesse and Ash and the unexpected betrayal of my former allies. “This is my life, Alex. It’s all I’ve known since I was a teenager. It never occurred to either of us to not fight this. Besides, there’s more at stake than just our lives. Although right now, saving Wyatt’s life is all I care about.” I walked toward Alex, and he didn’t flinch. “His name is Wyatt Truman. He was my Handler and my …” My what? Lover? Not exactly. I stopped an arm’s length away. Tears prickled my eyes. “I have to save him.”
Alex lifted his right arm. His fingers stopped inches from my face. I remained still, allowing him his exploration. Tentative fingertips traced the line of my jaw, from ear to chin. Proving I was real, that he wasn’t imagining it all. Touching the face of a woman he’d seen die. Knowing that a stranger lived in her shell and that the woman he cared about was never coming home. Was he convinced? Or simply contemplating escape?
His touch dropped to my shoulder, down my arm, until he finally grasped my hand. He squeezed it; I squeezed back.
“Evy, huh?” he said.
“Assuming you believe me and we’re not both crazy.”
He smiled.
Shadows darted past the patio doors, too fast to count. I yanked hard on Alex’s hand. He yelped and tripped and fell to the carpeted floor. I dropped to my knees and covered his head with my hands.
Above us, glass and wood exploded in a shower of tinkling shards.
Chapter 13
53:02
Heavy boots landed near my head, crushing broken glass into the thick carpet. I lunged upward and drove my balled fist into the intruder’s groin. Hard bone met delicate flesh, which gave way under the blow. The man howled and doubled forward. I thrust upward. Knuckles connected solidly with his chin. For a split instant, I looked into Tully’s shocked eyes, and then he was toppling backward.
I rose into a crouching position and spun toward scuffling sounds. Alex and Wormer were on the ground, wrestling for control of a revolver. Wormer had used his advantage in bulk to roll Alex onto his back. The gun shifted above their heads. Someone squeezed off a wild shot that took out a vase on the counter. Glass shattered and pinged.
I grabbed the closest weapon within reach—an iron candlestick sporting a half-melted red pillar—and swung. It connected with the side of Wormer’s head. He grunted and lost control of the gun to Alex. It was more of a glancing blow than the knockout I’d hoped for, but it did its job. Alex gripped the gun by the barrel, eyes wide, like he couldn’t believe he wasn’t dead.
“Get off him, asshole.” I shoved Wormer with my foot, and he fell sideways. The bloody footprint left behind on his shirt surprised me. I didn’t even feel the glass.
I readied the candlestick again, hoping to deliver a coma-inducing blow.
“Watch out!” Alex shouted.
Too late. Something hit my neck, sharp as a knife thrust. Lightning exploded behind my eyes, and every nerve ending was on fire. My heart raced, and I could barely breathe fast enough to compensate. I lost muscle control and fell to my knees. A hot flush broke across my skin. Then the agony ended as abruptly as it began, and all I felt was cold. I shrieked as I fell.
Broken glass cut into my right arm. I smelled sizzled flesh. A flash of something long and black entered the periphery of my vision. Cattle prod. Nice move. Didn’t see that one coming.
“We’re better trackers than you realize, little girl,” Tully said.
“Put it down,” Tully said.
“Hell no,” Alex replied, but without the necessary force. His fear was betraying him. “You broke into my apartment. You’re intruders. I can shoot you.”
Tully’s nostrils flared; he didn’t like the threat. “My superiors know where I am. If I don’t check in on time, they come here looking for me. You don’t want that.”
“He’s not kidding,” I said. My hand investigated my neck and found a quarter-sized burn.
The gun’s aim didn’t move, but I came under Tully’s scrutiny. “We know you’re helping a fugitive named Wyatt Truman. Why? Who are you?”
He didn’t know me, which meant the brass didn’t know about my resurrection. I didn’t know how Wyatt kept it secret, but he had. Advantage one for my team. Behind Alex, Wormer groaned. He seemed to be struggling to sit up. Maybe I’d whacked him good after all.
“Where’d they take Wyatt?” I asked.
Tully’s nostrils flared. “Do you really think you’re in a position to ask me questions, lady?”
“Yes.”
He fired. I felt the heat of the bullet as it passed by my cheek. Behind me, Alex cried out. I twisted around, coming up on my hands and knees, stomach knotting as I prepared for the worst. Alex lay on his side, one hand pressed against his right temple. Blood oozed between his fingers, but he was very much alive. Alive, aware, and swearing colorfully enough to make even me blush.
I lunged for the gun he’d abandoned. More lightning, this time in my lower back. Cursing my own idiocy, I collapsed by Alex’s feet. My stomach muscles spasmed. Bile scorched the back of my throat and left a sour taste in my mouth. An unexpected whimper tore from between clenched teeth.
The jolt ceased. I didn’t move, choosing instead to simply breathe. Stupid; goddamn stupid.
“Still think you’re the one asking questions?”
A sardonic retort formed in my mouth, but thankfully died a quick death before I could utter it. I needed my wits about me, not volts of electricity coursing through my body. “No,” I hissed. “You’re in charge.”
“Good girl.”
I drew my knees up to my chest and rolled, hoping to sit up. A sharp kick to the middle of my back felled me again. I took the hint and stayed low, choosing to roll onto my back and prop up on my elbows. I disliked the prone position, but at least I could glare right into Tully’s eyes. It also gave me a better view of the room.
Pale, but very much alive, Alex scooted closer to me. Blood stained the side of his face, neck, and shirt collar. Wormer loomed above us, once again in charge of his own firearm, and apparently very much in favor of using it.
“Now,” Tully said, “let’s try answering my questions. Who are you?”
Smug. I hated that. Self-preservation took a backseat to annoyance. “I’m the thing that the shadows fear.”
Confusion creased his forehead. It was a line Triad members used jokingly amongst ourselves. We hunted the creatures that haunted others’ nightmares. Tully seemed to understand the reference. I could see imaginary wheels turning in his mind.
“Truman tell you to say that?” Tully asked.
The burn on my neck began to itch. If I was lucky, it would heal fast and freak Tully out just a little bit. “Wyatt didn’t tell me to say anything. He never expected us to be separated.”
“That right?” Tully circled to my left, positioning himself closer to Alex and farther from me. The cattle prod
