but all that came out was a groan.
Lila helped Tristan guide his brother to the floor, taking care of his head, which had begun to loll from side to side.
Tristan unbuttoned the neck of Dixon’s shirt.
“A little earlier than I’d planned,” Reaper said, flinching when Frank pulled back his arm for a punch.
Tristan looked up. “What did you do?”
“Oh, that’s cute. You really are surprised by this. Did you people honestly think I’d come unprepared? I deal with people much nastier than you on a regular basis.”
“What the fuck did you do?”
“I call it Reaper’s Back Door, though I’m sure it has a much more scientific name somewhere. I stick it in someone whenever a situation makes me nervous. Like seeing you and Hood somewhere that you shouldn’t be.”
“It’s okay, Tristan. He’s breathing,” Lila whispered.
“Not for very long,” the hacker said. “The poison is harmless, more or less, as long as he gets the antidote within the hour. If he doesn’t, he’ll be dead. So my question is, how badly do you want Bullstow to have me?”
Chapter 27
“Do you expect us to believe that bullshit?” Tristan hopped up from his brother’s side and strode toward Reaper, grabbing his collar. “What the fuck did you do to him?”
“Exactly what I told you. You can either believe me now, or you can believe me in an hour after he’s dead.” Reaper smirked. “Don’t worry. One of my men outside has hidden the antidote. When I leave the factory safely, he’ll—”
Tristan let go of Reaper’s coat, then slammed the hacker’s head against the wall, stunning him. After Tristan’s arm pumped back, Reaper screamed so loudly that he drowned out the shouts of the mob outside, including the crackling of a fire in a nearby warehouse.
A knife protruded from Reaper’s shoulder.
Blood trickled from the wound as Tristan yanked it out.
Reaper screamed again, panting as though he’d run for blocks.
Lila dug her forehead into Dixon’s chest, rubbing his cheek as he moaned on the factory floor, his face pale and sweaty. She’d never seen Tristan turn to naked violence before, never seen him do anything worse than throw a punch. He’d acted with all the speed and force of a bullet train, and with all the apathy.
Only the poorer classes showed such violence.
But if that was true, why did Lila want to draw her own knife and join in?
“You stabbed me!”
“No, that was just me asking politely. Tell me where the antidote is.”
“It doesn’t work like that. One of my men hid it. Even I don’t know where. The only way to get the antidote is to—”
Tristan dug into Reaper’s coat, found his palm, and pressed the device into his chest. “If your man doesn’t bring me the antidote in the next five minutes, I’m going to put my blade through your heart. How do you like my back door?”
Reaper’s clutched at his palm. His fingers shook on the touch screen. “Okay, I’ll—”
A shot cut through the air outside.
Everyone looked up and turned toward the windows, listening.
Everyone except Reaper. He tapped the screen, ignoring the world. “I have to get out of here. Shouldn’t have agreed to this. Shouldn’t have come.”
“Watch him,” Tristan told Frank and Fry. “If he does something you don’t like, stab him between his legs.”
Reaper whimpered and typed even faster.