It’s the vampire magic, I tell myself. Not that I believe it.
Still, the thought gives me hope. If it’s just magic, it will fade. Then I’ll be able to shove all of these feelings and memories into a box in my mind and lock it up tight like I’ve done with so many other things.
I make it to Nathan’s room without seeing or hearing anyone. More importantly, I make it there without being seen. I don’t bother knocking this time. I just slip right in. My brother jerks up in bed and then scrambles to his feet as I close the door, looking foggy-eyed and tousled. Unlike Jessica, he was definitely asleep.
“What’s going on?” he asks, his words slurred and his voice rough.
“Shoes. Shirt. We’re leaving.”
“Wh—bu—Mimi,” he protests. “I’m not ready. I’m still sick from those damn women.”
“You’ve jumped fences with the cops on your ass after being up for four days spun out of your mind on meth and dehydrated within an inch of your life,” I snap briskly. “Get your damn shoes on.”
He frowns at me but he does what I tell him. He shrugs into a button-down shirt—all the buttons have been ripped off, and god, I really want to know how or when that happened—and flattens his hair as best he can. Then he shrugs at me defiantly.
“There.”
I roll my eyes. He’s going to attract all kinds of negative attention looking like that, or at least, he will if anyone sees us. But if it gets to that point, it won’t matter what he’s wearing. Besides, I don’t have time to get him dressed properly. I grab his wrist and open the door slightly, just enough to see that the hall is empty.
“Why are we doing this now?” he whispers.
I glare at him and put a finger to my lips. He shuts up, but he doesn’t look happy about it. I’m glad we have to be quiet right now. I’m not real thrilled at the prospect of admitting to him that it’s my fault we have to leave now. I’m the one who blew our cover, and that doesn’t sit right with the part of me that’s always insisted I’ve got this under control.
Even though Rome said he wouldn’t tell anybody, I can’t really rely on him to keep that promise. He could always change his mind. As far as vampire societal law goes, he’d be well within his rights to do that. Like he said, he has a duty.
I drag Nathan down the hall, leading him swiftly down corridors I’ve spent weeks memorizing. It takes longer than I’d like, but we don’t hit any dead ends or get lost in any passages, and after several agonizing minutes, we step into a little hallway that connects to the crossed hallways in the center of the palace.
I never managed to figure out the full code, but I’ll have to make this work with the intel I have. Out of six numbers, I have four, but I have some solid guesses of what the missing two numbers might be, based on where I saw various vampire’s fingers hovering over the keypad.
Dammit, I should have asked Rome, but he probably wouldn’t have told me. His loyalty might be flexible enough to turn a blind eye to my escape attempt, but I doubt he would betray the other vampires outright.
God, Rome.
The thought of the gruff, enigmatic vampire seems to open up a wound in my chest.
I can’t believe I’ll never see him again. Maybe he’ll get himself banished again, and I’ll meet him on the streets. The image of me recognizing him just as I drive a stake into his chest sends a shiver of horror through my stomach, followed by a wave of sadness. He’s the enemy. He always will be, for the rest of my life and long after I’m dead.
“You good?” Nathan asks, his eyes glinting in the dim light as he studies my face.
I scowl, hiding whatever expression it is that he’s reacting to.
“I’m fine,” I tell him. “Keep moving. We’re almost there.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
It only takes us another minute to reach the sleek elevator. Our ticket out of this place, if we can figure out how to open it.
“Watch my back,” I whisper to Nathan.
“Where does this go?” he asks.
“Up into an office building. It’s the middle of the day topside. They probably won’t have vampire guards at every door and intersection up there, not in broad daylight. Now shut up, I’m trying to remember the code.”
“Remember” is a bit of a stretch. The numbers I know are etched so deeply into my brain that I’ll never forget them. But for the two missing digits, there’s nothing to recall since I don’t actually know them.
The keypad code is six digits. Zero-nine-three-something-something-four.
I’m pretty sure the fourth digit is either a one or a two, and I think the fifth might be a seven or an eight.
Fuck it. I’ll just have to guess until I get it right, and pray it doesn’t set off an alarm.
I punch some numbers in, trying the first possible combination.
Nothing.
The door doesn’t open, but no alarm goes off either, so I take that as the small victory it is and keep trying.
It turns out, I was wrong. The fifth digit is a five, but after several minutes of cursing under my breath and punching the keypad with shaking fingers, I finally enter the right combo. The arrow on the keypad turns green, pointing upward like a beacon leading to freedom, and I let out a ragged breath.
The elevator door slides open, and I grab Nathan by the arm and haul him in after me.
I want to feel relieved, but despite the brief moment of victory, I know we’re not out of the woods yet. I punch the button for the street level floor—there are two floors between here and there—then stand with my back pressed against the cold glass. Nathan’s giving me a worried look,
