Sahvage ducked and covered his head, bracing to get hit somewhere—
A high-pitched squeal, like that of a pig, marked the end of the lead slug’s free-flying trip.
Lowering his arms, he looked over at Mae. She had the Book up to her chest, and as she straightened from her own crouch, she turned the tome around.
In the dusty glow of the exposed light bulb over head, the small round hole in the center of the front cover was like any other wound in flesh—but the imperfection didn’t last long. As if the thing were capable of healing, as if it were alive, the bullet “wound” gradually sealed itself up.
Mae lifted her eyes, and as Sahvage met her stare, the ache in his chest was just like if he had been the one hit.
“Goodbye, Mae,” he said in a low voice as he stepped around her.
In the doorway out of the furnace room, he looked over his shoulder. “And I’m saying that because I want closure. It may come as a complete shock to you, but other people make choices, too.”
Balz was still crumpled on the floor of the triplex’s book room when Xcor strode in. He was accompanied by a number of Brothers, none of whom really registered, and nobody looked happy.
The leader of the Band of Bastards, the one Balz had pledged his life to long ago, knelt down and took his dagger hand. As the image of that harsh face, with its cleft lip and its familiar eyes, got wavy, Balz kicked himself in his own ass. But damn, the guilt stung.
“We’ll get you out of here and have that leg looked at.”
God, he felt awful, and not just because his ankle was on fucking fire. “Have you found Sahvage?”
“V’s tracing his cell phone.”
“Okay.” Shit. Shit. Shit— “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry—”
“You did your best. And don’t worry, we’re going to find him and we’ll get the Book. This is nothing that’s going to change our outcome. Come on, let me help you up.”
Balz continued cursing for a whole lot of reasons as he got onto the vertical, and he had to rely on Xcor’s shoulders to limp out of the apartment. Out in the corridor, he had to rest as the Brothers provided cover, casing the hallway.
Please don’t let that brunette show up, Balz thought. And then he shut that down real quick. The last thing he needed to add to this shit show was placing a mental phone call to the bitch.
“Manny’s downstairs waiting,” Xcor said.
“Can we use the elevator? I can’t dematerialize.”
“Of course.”
He had an all-armed escort down to where the arrowed buttons were, and by the time they came up to the bank of double doors, he was getting dizzy from the pain. When their elevator arrived, they shuffled into the mirrored confines. Well, three of them did. He, Xcor, and Butch made it inside. There wasn’t enough room for Z and Phury.
“We’ll meet you down there,” one of the two of them announced.
“Roger that,” Butch said.
As the panels slid closed, something moved in the corner of Balz’s eye. Jerking around, he only saw his reflection, the image of his pale, pain-etched face refracted back and forth, ad infinitum. And Xcor’s. And Butch’s—
There. There it was again, something moving around in one of the sets of reflections, a shadow, jumping up a level. And another level. And another level . . . closing in on reality.
“What is it?” Xcor asked.
“It’s coming for us—”
The lights flickered overhead. The car bumped to a halt.
Somewhere, an alarm went off.
“Close your eyes,” Balz commanded—even though he didn’t know why. “You have to close your eyes or she’ll get into you! Close your eyes!”
He tightened his hold on his leader and grabbed the front of Butch’s dagger holster, pulling the Brother in close.
“Don’t look, don’t open your eyes—”
A sound, like the hiss of a snake’s tongue, came to them, surrounding them, getting louder. And through his lids, he could tell that the lighting was blinking again. Panicked, all he could do was pray the other two males were as eyes-wide-shut as he was. But there was no checking—
Something brushed his bad ankle and seemed to probe his foot, like it was searching for, and had identified, his weakness. Then Butch moved against him, like he was trying to get away from a touch. Xcor growled.
But no one said anything.
With a squawk, all three of their communicators went off at once. “Engagement! Engagement, repeat—”
The snake-like hissing got louder and snapped up to Balz’s shoulder, like the entity, whatever it was, was checking out the noise.
Balz moved his hand up and silenced the emergency. As the others’ units went quiet as well, he assumed they had done likewise.
It sounded as if all of the fighters had suddenly been attacked. At once.
Fuck.
• • •