Out of This World

William and Serena were tied to a chair, gags in their mouths, staring at us.

No Axel or stinky pirates in sight. “Kel.”

Kel, just above me, squatted, too, looking in the glass. “Shit.” Then he opened the window.

“What are you doing?”

“Keep going. I’ll be right behind you before you touch the ground.” With lithe ease, he swung into the room.

William went white. Shook his head violently.

I caught the message. Don’t stop for us. Save your own damn necks.

Not that Kel listened. He never listened. He moved quickly to Serena and untied her hands, then turned toward William.

But before I could drop into the room as Kel had, Serena yanked off her gag. “Kellan! No! Take Rach and get out!”

It terrified me, hearing her fear, but before I could climb inside, the bedroom door slammed open.

I jerked back and nearly fell off the damn ledge.

Moe leveled his gun at Kellan. “Tie them back up.”

Kellan didn’t move. Nor did he look at me. But I could feel him, desperate for me to get out of sight.

“Tie them up now,” Moe said to Kel.

The voice was terrifying, the gun even more so, and I pressed back out of view, willing Kel not to do anything stupid, so he wouldn’t die right here.

“You deaf?” Moe yelled at Kellan. “I said tie them up.”

“No,” Kellan said.

I think I stopped breathing as I clung to the drainpipe, trying like hell to vanish into thin air.

If I could somehow shimmy down, then find a way to rescue them all-

With what? My X-ray vision?

Oh God. I was panting for air, and it was so loud, I was shocked Moe hadn’t stepped to the window to investigate. Any minute now I would hyperventilate and pass out.

And fall to my death.

No. Not going to fail Kellan. Omigod, Kellan, who was right this very second staring down the wrong end of a very long, very-powerful looking barrel.

What if they killed him?

I actually had to stop and hold still for a second at this thought: my life without Kellan in it. It was too dark, too overwhelming, too lonely, and I couldn’t even contemplate it.

He wasn’t going to die.

No one was.

Because I was going to get down.

That’s right. I was going to get down, and then I’d find my own weapon and somehow save the day. Me, a muralist, a pacifist, a woman who hated conflict. I was going to do this one thing, and I was going to do it one step at a time and not think about it too hard.

First, down the drainpipe.

Easier said than done in a state of near-panic. Hand over hand…Finally I managed to get within five feet of the ground, and feeling triumphant, I glanced down.

And gasped in new terror.

Because Curly stood there, gun pointed directly at me.

“Hands up,” he said, with a nasty smile revealing his distaste of daily hygiene.

I went from icy fear to furious anger. Gun or no gun, I was getting damn tired of the fear. In fact, I wasn’t going to be afraid again. Unless I saw a spider. “I can’t let go,” I said, gripping the drainpipe.

“No problem.” He took aim. “I can shoot you from right here.”

Ah hell. “Okay,” I said. “Maybe I can let go.”

“Atta girl.”

With nothing else up my sleeve, I had little choice. I began to slither down the pipe, heart pounding in my throat. “Shooting me would be a bad idea,” I said, just in case he got trigger-happy.

“Why’s that?”

“Because I’ve hidden the laptop.”

He just looked at me.

“You need it to do the swap of the abilities,” I reminded him.

“No problem.” Curly smiled evilly. “Because you’re going to tell me all about where you hid it.” His fist closed at my nape, and squeezed. “Start talking.”

“Um.”

“Faster, hot stuff.” His breath was rank enough to nearly knock me out. To add insult, he ran the gun up my ribs, over the side of my breast.

I’ll never know where the move came from-probably from watching too many Jackie Chan movies-but I kicked back and nailed him in the knee.

“Fuck!” He bent, and somehow I managed to elbow him in the throat.

He let out a gargling sound and hit the ground.

Okay, so far so good. I whirled to run, but he recovered quickly, damn pirate, and wrapped his arms around my legs.

Then tugged.

Hard.

And down over the top of him I went. He smelled like week-old garbage, but his body was whipcord hard and sinewy, which did not bode well for me. While I was still in shock, he rolled me beneath him and grinned down at me.

I kneed him in the balls, hard enough to make him pale, but not hard enough to incapacitate him.

Bad idea, Rach.

We rolled around for a minute, me trying to get loose, him trying to cop a feel and control me at the same time, but neither of us getting much of what we wanted.

Finally I crawled free-

Only to feel his gun jam into my back.

“Now, I’ve gotcha,” he said.

Chapter 22

Kellan’s view of things

You know what would be nice? If I could just wake up from this nightmare. Only unfortunately, I’m not dreaming. I really am standing with my hands up, facing a thug who thinks he’s a pirate from an alternate universe.

And oh yeah, he has a helluva gun.

All this, with Rach on the drainpipe outside the window. Please let her still be safe on the drainpipe outside the window.

“Down,” the pirate that Rach had nicknamed Moe said to me.

I hoped like hell Rach was sliding down that drainpipe and running for her life, and not planning on doing something stupid, like rescuing me.

Moe pointed his gun to the floor impatiently. “I said down, asshole!”

Rachel, walk away. Do not take this as a challenge to come save my hide.

But I could think it all I wanted. I had no telepathy skills, and in any case, Rachel didn’t have such great listening skills. She did what she wanted, when she wanted, which truthfully, was part of what made me love her so