A Perfect Blood
Page 15

Chapter Fifteen
The last of the peanut butter was sticking to my teeth, as it always did, and I took a swallow of the tepid water. It was hard with minerals; we were on a well. He wasn't lying when he said that we were out of the city, I thought as I set the plastic glass down and pulled my knees to my chin. I'd been stuck in this cage for almost twenty-four hours, but there was a feeling in the air that I didn't trust. I'd been watching Eloy to try to figure out what was up. He'd come in early this morning, grumpy and stiff, making me think he had spent the night outside on sentry detail.
Jennifer had left an hour ago wearing a pair of nursing scrubs and a doppelganger curse invoked with my blood. Chris had spent the morning getting twenty years of dust out of the workings of one of the older-looking machines, now glinting a dull silver. Gerald was on a bathroom break with Winona, serving as both her balance and jailer.
Winona was a good girl. She could use the bathroom any time she asked. They let me go only when both Eloy and Gerald were around, and Eloy was gone more often than not. Right now, he was fiddling with Gerald's security cameras, trying to get them to pan. He was somewhere in the basement, visible through one of the monitors as he stretched and sweated. A light flashed on the panel, and Eloy grimaced, reaching around to try again.
Sucking on my teeth, I leaned back against the wall as I sat on the cold floor, a stinky sleeping bag the only thing between me and the cement, watching the subtle flow of emotions and feeling of expectancy. Everything had changed earlier this morning after a hushed, intense argument between Eloy and Chris. It had taken place out of my hearing and almost out of my sight, at the edges of the light. Eloy got his way in the end, though, whatever it was.
The snap of Chris carefully closing the box of her vials drew my attention, and I sighed. She had been counting them again. God, she was worse than Ivy.
Ivy, I thought, feeling my chest clench. By now she must be worried to the point of tearing someone's throat out, but she and Jenks would find me - and get me out of this cage. I fingered my band of silver, thinking I'd been more than stupid about this. No wonder Trent thought I was brainless. He'd been trying to tell me, and I hadn't listened. I guess I hadn't watched the right movies to know that with ultimate power comes ultimate responsibility. My blood was power, and I had a responsibility to keep it safe - even if that meant I had to hurt someone in the short term.
I didn't like it. But it was a moot point if I couldn't get out of here and fix things, and my jaw clenched as I watched Eloy through one of the monitors, squinting as the camera panned back and forth. Nodding in satisfaction, the man walked out of the camera's range. He flashed up on a second monitor before vanishing behind the new camera in turn.
"Hey, how about a bathroom break?" I said loudly. Chris had left a screwdriver on the counter after replacing the back of the machine, and I wanted it.
"Use the bucket," Chris said, not bothering to turn around.
"Winona didn't have to use the bucket," I said, then looked at the monitor and the gray shape coming down the stairwell, one hand on the railing, one hand holding a shopping bag.
"Shut up, you stupid little chubi," Chris said, pushing back from her chair as if she'd been killing time up until now. Sure enough, she went to her cot and grabbed her thick, army-green coat, shrugging into it as she muttered under her breath.
"Bathroom?" I prompted, ignoring the slur.
Chris searched her pockets until she found a tissue and wiped her nose. "Hold it," she said as she threw it away. Not looking up, she yelled, "Gerald! Jenn's back! Let's get this over with!" Rolling her eyes, she turned to the monitors, now showing Eloy and Jennifer. He'd taken her shopping bag for her all polite like. The woman didn't look like herself, being about twenty pounds heavier and just as many years older. It had to be her, though, seeing that Eloy was talking to her and the matronly seeming woman looked right up at the camera and waved.
I fidgeted, balling up my napkin and throwing it at the bucket. My blood had made the doppelganger curse work, and it bothered me, even though voluntarily giving them ten cc's of blood had gotten me a much-needed trip to the bathroom last night. I was an unwilling demon, doling out wishes to an insane practitioner. At least Al could say no. I suppose I could say no, too, and pee in a corner. Maybe I should have. But then they just would have darted me.
"You think you're part of this, but HAPA is going to kill you when they don't need you anymore," I said, and Chris stiffened. "Why do you think Eloy is here? To keep you safe? They're using you, and as soon as they don't need you, you're dead."
"You open your mouth one more time, and I'll dart you this shy of a coma," she snarled, but I'd seen her flash of fear. Maybe she was smarter than I'd given her credit for.
The fast-paced sound of heels on cement grew loud, and Jennifer click-clacked into the circle of light, looking refreshed and red cheeked if nothing like herself. Eloy set her bag on the floor and went to Gerald's security camera, making sure the joystick worked.
"Why are you bothering to fix those?" Chris said snidely. "They don't need to pan."
"Why are you opening the back panels of those old machines?" Eloy said dryly. "They aren't going to work any better with the dust out of them."
Chris leaned against the makeshift lab bench, the nylon of her coat scraping it as she looked him over. She was ugly with her short hair, no makeup, the scratches from Jenks healing - and the fear I had reminded her of. "You do your job, I do mine."
"Uh-huh," he muttered, still standing hunched over the equipment.
"Wow, it got cold out there!" Jennifer said, her gaze going over the small room and seeing that Winona and Gerald were absent and that Chris had her coat on. "I thought we were staying in tonight," she said, picking her bag up and setting it on the counter. A new name tag attached to the pocket of her scrubs peeped out past her unbuttoned coat.
"Captain America has plans," Chris said shortly. "Any problems getting the stuff?"
Jennifer glanced at me, and I gave her a bunny-eared kiss-kiss. "No," she said, her eyes darting away. "The charm worked great. In and out, no problem." She shifted her shoulders as if shaking off a chill. "I feel like I need to take a shower, though."
"It's a curse, not a charm," I said loudly, and a flash of fear crossed her as she took wrapped sterile syringes out of the bag. "You should see how black your soul is now."
"Your aura is fine," Chris said. "Don't listen to the corr bitch."
"Filthy," I mouthed at Jennifer, and she paled. Hey, I took my digs when I could get them.
Jennifer set a small bottle of injectable something beside the syringes. "Why are we getting a new subject already?" she said, clearly still uneasy. "We can't move three people if we have to bug out. Eloy says the next base isn't ready yet. If something goes wrong and we have to leave, we've nowhere to go."
Chris frowned, crossing her ankles and barking, "Break that curse and put your bar clothes on." Turning to the dark, she shouted, "Gerald, get goat girl back in her cage! Let's go!"
Goat girl? Oh, I owed her some serious foot-in-gut for that one.
Jennifer didn't move, but the curse washed from her, leaving her in clothes too big and a very concerned expression on her face. "Four people can't move three."
I stifled a shiver when Chris smiled at me. "We'll burn that bridge when we come to it."
What she meant was, they'd take the most useful and kill who was left. I suddenly felt like I was on the Titanic.
Jennifer spun to Eloy. "You're going along with this?" she asked, and Eloy shrugged.
All my warning flags went up, and Chris noticed I was watching Jennifer intently. Her eyes never leaving mine, she said, "Can I talk to you for a moment, Jennifer?"
My eyes narrowed in suspicion as Chris put a hand on the woman's shoulder, whispering into her ear. Jennifer's eyes went wide, then she looked at Eloy as he stood and stretched, finally bending to check that his boots were tied. Frowning in thought, Jennifer went behind the curtain she'd hung last night between her cot and Gerald's, changing into her bar clothes, I expected.
Eloy stood beside the syringes and picked up the tiny bottle, squinting as he read what it contained. "You know this is toxic, right?" he said, jiggling it in his palm. "You'll have to wait twenty-four hours for it to work its way out of the subject's system before you can alter him."
Alter? My face burned, and I sat up, pulling my cold back from the stone. "Why not just say mutilate, Eloy? That's all it does."
"That's not for the next subject," Chris said, annoyed. "That's for her if she becomes a liability."
Eloy nodded, and he set the bottle down with a tap. Her frown deepening, Chris turned to the stacked clutter. "Come on, Gerald!" she shouted. "It doesn't take that long to use the can!"
"We're coming!" came back faintly. "She can't walk that fast, for God's sake!"
Jennifer pushed the curtain aside, dressed in some slinky black dress, high heels adding four inches to her height. She looked at me and beamed. I felt like the butt of a joke being told out of my earshot, and I touched the corner of my mouth to see if I had peanut butter on it. The awkward trip-trap of Winona's hooves became obvious, and my pulse quickened. The door to the cage was going to open.
Gerald's hunched form eased into the light, Winona looking small and frail on his arm as she wobbled, hanging on for dear life. They'd given her blouse back to her, and it looked odd with her thick thighs and cloven feet showing from under it. Balancing on her tiny feet with that heavy head must be hard. She looked okay, if having wrinkly gray skin, a curly red pelt, goat feet, and a tail somewhere between a monkey's and a stingray's was okay.
Winona gave me a smile, her oversize canines making her look like she was growling, but I smiled back, tensing to jump at the door.
Angry, Chris turned to Gerald. "Hurry up. I'm tired of smelling these stinking corrs!"
"All right, all right!" Gerald muttered, his head down as he wove Winona through the last of the boxes and toward our cell.
I got to my feet, eyes on the door. "Hey! What about my bathroom break?"
"Use the bucket," Chris said, arms crossed as Winona grabbed the wire mesh for balance while Gerald fished the key from his pocket. There was only one, and Gerald had it.
"On your knees, facing the wall," Gerald demanded, and shoulders slumping, I turned my back on them and dropped to my knees. I don't know what movie he'd been watching, but it was effective. No big loss, I thought as I heard the door open and Winona totter in. Even if I did manage to get out, I wouldn't get anywhere. Not with them standing around watching.
Hearing the door shut and lock, I stood and turned, reaching to take Winona's thick hand. Her eyes met mine in thanks, and I helped her to her side of the cell and supported her until she was down. They really didn't need to cage her. She could barely stand.
Chris put the bottle of sedative in her purse with a couple of syringes. "I doubt moving three people is going to come up," she said. "We've never had a subject live longer than three days." She looked at Winona. "This is what, day two?"
"Winona is healthy." Why are they scaring her like this?
"And that's why she was puking all night?" Chris gestured for Jennifer to get her coat.
My heart pounded as the distasteful woman sauntered closer until only a few feet, some twined wire, and a canyon of morals separated us. "If it should come down to it," Chris said, her words crisp and mocking, "your surly nature might outweigh your blood, and we'll take Winona instead. Maybe you should be nicer."
I jumped when she smacked the door, my face burning when she laughed. "The last person who hit my cage died under a pack of dogs," I said, but she'd already turned away.
"Okay, let's go," she said, and my anger turned to hope when Eloy stood up from the monitors. They were all leaving?
"Rachel?"
It was Winona, and I turned to her, almost impatient until I saw her fear. My thoughts jumped back to what Chris had said. After a moment of hesitation, I went to her. "It's okay," I said, sitting so I could see if they took the dart gun. "You're not going to die. You were just getting rid of something you couldn't digest anymore."
"Maybe I should die," she said, and I stiffened. "I mean, what good am I now?"
I shoved my first response down, and settled myself more certainly beside her, rubbing my legs, aching from disuse. "Don't talk like that," I said, watching them bundle up with hats and thick coats.
"You sure they can't escape?" Chris said as she tugged on her gloves, and Eloy rattled the door.
"I can lock them in the bathroom," Gerald said, and Chris snickered.
"At least then she would stop whining about potty breaks." Her head came up. "Okay, let's go. We have a small window and I want to use it. I've been stuck down here for two days."
She was halfway to the edge of the light, and Jennifer and Gerald fell into place behind her, talking between themselves, their tension rising. Eloy was last, and I wondered at the look he gave me as he left.
Slowly their voices became faint, and with a thump that seemed to shake the air, the lights went out. Winona sighed, and I looked at her in the glow from the TV monitors. I could see them on the monitors at the stairway. Then even that light went off and the monitors glowed a dull gray of nothing.
"Couldn't leave the light on, huh?" I said sarcastically.
Winona moaned as if in relief. "I'd rather have them off," she said, surprising me. "The light was hurting my eyes. That annoying humming stopped, too."
I wondered if she was hearing the electricity in the wires. Jenks said he could. It was how he'd found that worn spot in the church's wiring last year before it burned the place down.
My chest hurt. Damn it, I was going to get us out of here. Somehow.
Standing up, I squinted at the ceiling where the wire mesh met it, wondering if there was a weak spot. I hadn't looked yet, knowing I'd never be able to take advantage of it if they knew I'd found one. Fingers looping into the mesh as high as I could reach, I gave a tug. Nothing.
Winona sniffed, and I moved a foot down and gave it another shake. My thoughts kept going over the last half hour: the conversations being said without a word, that look Jennifer had given me when Chris whispered in her ear. What bothered me the most was that Eloy hadn't protested their going out and grabbing someone else. He knew that putting three people in this cage was a mistake. Someone would die if they had to move fast, probably Winona, seeing that she couldn't walk and they could make more of her with my blood. Not that they cared.
My head hurt, and I moved down another foot and shook the mesh. And what was HAPA, a military outfit, doing working with scientists and magic, the same people that HAPA blamed for the Turn to begin with? Maybe once they got their magic elixir, they were going to turn on them, make the scientists take the blame and wipe them out with the rest of Inderland. Sounded about right.
I moved another foot, to the corner. Giving it a shake, I frowned. It was even sturdier with that embedded pole. Perhaps it was a group of frustrated scientists who were backing HAPA. If they used genetic research to get rid of the Inderlanders, then maybe the genetic medicines that had saved so many human lives in the past might be considered safe again. I dropped back to my heels, rubbing my head. Maybe Chris was going to run off with her research when they were almost done, and sell it to the highest bidder? Yeah, that sounded like something she'd do.
"We're going to die," Winona whispered, and I slid down a foot to give the mesh a shake.
"No, we aren't."
She sniffed, her rough voice sounding almost normal. "You know what the stupid thing is? I'm going to die, and I'm worried about my cat."
I turned to her, a lump of a shadow on the floor. "That's not stupid," I said, then gave the mesh a kick. I was worried about Ivy and Jenks. And my mother.
"I wish it wasn't so dark," I said, giving the mesh another shake. "If I could touch a line, I could make a light and maybe find the weak spot in this cage."
My breath caught, and I turned around to Winona. "Hey, you're a witch," I said, and she made a barking cough of a laugh. "No, I mean you can touch a line, right?" I said, and the shadow she was nodded. Her little horns caught the dim light and gave me the shivers.
"I don't know any magic," she said. "Especially any as complicated as making a light."
I quit my testing of the wire mesh and came back to her. "I do," I said as I stood over her, the first hints of an idea making me jittery. "I can teach you." I sat down in sudden thought, remembering how thick and stubby her hands were now. Still, she had fingers, and a ley-line charm shouldn't be beyond her.
"Really?"
It was the hope in her voice that did it. Stubby fingers or not, we had to try. "Maybe we can use it to get out of here," I added, taking her hand in mine and studying it. "I know a spell that warms things, burns them up. If you heat up the wires . . ."
She pulled her hand from mine. "I'm scared."
"Winona - "
"What if we get out?" she said, her voice louder. "What happens then? Rachel, I'm a monster!"
My jaw hurt, and I forced myself to relax. "You are not a monster."
"Then I'm a freak!"
Frustrated, I took her shoulders in my hands, making her look at me. "You are not a freak. They cursed you. Curses can be untwisted."
There was a glint of light on her cheek, and she wiped a stubby hand under her eye. "Promise?" she whispered. "I don't think my cat will come back if he sees me like this."
I knew she was trying to be funny, and it made me all the more determined that she wasn't going to end her life like this. "I promise," I said, but inside I was cringing. I promise? I can't promise her anything. What am I doing?
"Okay." Taking a deep breath, Winona seemed to settle herself, as if taking on the burden of seeing a great task to the end. She hadn't merely agreed to try to get us out, but agreed that she'd try to escape, to risk others seeing her like this, and find a way to get back to normal.
I gave her a hug, proud of her. She smelled different now that she'd gotten that protein out of her system. Meadowy and sunny. Nice.
Pulling back, I nodded once. "Okay." I thought as I looked at the door, knowing the lock was the weakest spot. "I've never taught anyone, but I've got a white ley-line charm that I use to warm water. I don't know why it wouldn't work on metal, too. If we can get the lock or hinges hot enough, maybe we can break the latch." Stretching, I gave the door a shove, and it gave slightly under my foot. "I'll do it first, then you try. You sure you can see me?"
"I can see everything," she said, her big eyes blinking once. "I can see better now than when the lights are on."
Okay-y-y-y. "I'll give you the words and finger motions together," I said as I scooted closer, and her head tilted down. "From candles' burn and planets' spin, friction is how it ends and begins," I said, feeling silly, but the rhyme helped me remember the finger motions, and Winona tried to mimic me, her thin lips moving.
I clapped my hands, saying, "Consimilis."
She jumped, and I added, "Cold to hot, harness within, calefacio!"
Winona looked at me, hesitated, and said, "Was something supposed to happen?"
I rocked back from her a little. "It would have if I had been connected to a ley line," I said sourly. It had felt weird doing the charm without being connected, like walking up the stairs in the dark to find that the last step isn't there when your foot falls through space. "Let me show you the finger motions again," I said, and she nodded. "That's what's important. The rhyme is just to remember them. That and the Latin."
"What if I accidentally fry myself? Or you?"
I smiled, remembering thinking just about the same thing when Ceri had taught me. "It won't work on anything with an aura," I said, and then my smile faded. I'd used it once to burn Kisten's murderer to ash, but the vampire had been dead - really dead - for almost a year before I'd found him. "It's really simple. You connect to a ley line, do the finger moves, and then say the Latin. Oh! And you need a focusing object."
My eyes had adapted somewhat, and I saw her screw her face up. "A focusing object?"
I reached over to the mesh and wiggled a stray wire back and forth, trying to work it free. "Sometimes I use one, sometimes I don't. It depends on how, ah, focused you are."
The wire started moving more easily, and with a ping, it separated. The end was warm in my fingers, and I handed it to her, hesitating. It wasn't as if she could hold it while she was doing the finger moves, and putting it in her mouth like I did when I warmed water wasn't the best option.
"Uh, maybe you should just touch the bars with your foot," I said. "That's a connection of a sort."
Winona took it from me, and I stared, shocked when she lifted her blouse and tucked the wire behind a fold of skin at her middle. "I, uh, have a pouch," she said, and I gaped at her, remembering to shut my mouth only when she began to look embarrassed.
"Does Gerald know?" I said, and she grinned.
"Nope."
"Well, if this doesn't work, maybe you could smuggle something in here with us."
"Way ahead of you," she said, her head going down as she pulled out a paper clip and a sharp chunk of thin plastic. "Put these in your sock, will you? They're making me itch like crazy."
"Winona," I said as I tucked them away. "Did anyone ever tell you that you'd make one hell of a runner?"
"I went to school to act," she said, the faint light shining on her teeth as she grinned.
The paper clip was warm from her body, and the plastic hard, but the sensations soon vanished. "With the focusing object, all you need to do is simply look at where you want the heat to go, and the charm will act there."
"I just have to look at it?" she said, her tone bordering on disbelief.
"You've never done anything like this, have you?" I asked, and she squirmed. "It's not as hard as most witches make out. You can do this."
She nodded. "I forgot the words."
I stifled my sigh, wondering if I was going to make a more impatient teacher than Ceri. "We'll do it together," I said. "Fire burns and planets spin. Friction is how it ends and begins. Consimilis!"
She mimicked me, and we clapped together. "Calefacio!" we both said simultaneously, our fingers moving as one. Winona jumped as the energy flowed through her, and I stifled a yelp when sparks burst from the door lock.
"You did it!" I cried, scrambling up to push on the door only to find that it was still latched. Disappointment brought my shoulders down, but Winona was delighted.
"It worked!" she said, not upset that it hadn't snapped the lock. "It's like putting a spoon in the microwave. All sparks! I'm going to try again."
"Hold on a sec," I said as I gingerly touched the metal to find it was barely warm. "Give it twice what you did, and I'll kick it."
"What if it catches you on fire?" she said, and I balled up my hands and took a stance.
"Then put me out, but I'm kicking that lock the instant you say the last word."
Winona took a nervous breath, and I clenched my jaw, focusing on the door. This was really dumb. Why in hell had I ever abandoned my magic? Because I didn't want to live in the ever-after the rest of my life? Because Al would be mad enough to lock me in a box? Okay, they were really good reasons, but it was time I accepted that my magic came with an awful price and just pay it, even if it left me alone and apart.
"You can do this, Winona," I said, deciding to worry about it later - if I had a later. "You're a strong woman." That metal hadn't been very hot. Maybe she didn't have the fortitude to channel enough ley-line energy.
"Consimilis, calefacio!" Winona exclaimed, and I darted my foot out in a side kick. It hit the door the same time her charm did, and the mesh shook as the sparks flew. The scent of hot metal rose, but the door didn't move.
"Again!" I exclaimed, my pulse quickening.
"Consimilis, calefacio!" she shouted gleefully, and I flung my foot at the door, screaming along with her.
The door gave way, and I fell forward, my momentum propelling me into the center of the room. Exuberant, I caught myself and turned. The door was swinging shut again, the lock a glowing mess of melted metal. The stench of burning wire was choking, and I grinned as Winona stared, her mouth open and her eyes huge and black in the dim light from the monitors. "I did it . . ."
"That was fabulous!" I exclaimed. Lurching, I stuck my foot in front of the door before it could swing back and melt shut. No way would it hold either of us again. The air, even a foot away from the glowing wires, was hot, and I held the door open with one foot while I reached in to help Winona up.
"I can stand," she said, scrambling up and balancing with no problem.
"You can stand!" I echoed, my smile getting wider. "You can walk!" I exclaimed, backing up when she trotted toward me, little hooves clacking on the cement.
"I was faking." Winona trip-trapped to where they had put her clothes and her purse. "I played the part of a cripple one semester. Got to be good at it." Frowning, she held up a long coat. It had a masculine cut that went to the floor and would hide her feet. "I think this must have been Kenny's."
My heart pounded. She tossed my coat to me, and I caught it. The dart gun was next, right in the drawer that Eloy had put it into. "Let's go," I said, looking up at the gray monitors, then hissed, "Wait!" when I remembered the data book.
Winona hesitated, and I scanned the books on the shelf, impatient until I found the one with the names of everyone they'd killed. "Okay," I said, excited as I tucked it under an arm. "Now we can go."
I fell into place behind Winona, marveling at how quickly she could move, almost as fast as a vampire. I couldn't help but stare at that little slip of a tail showing from under her coat. She was almost like a ghost as she went before me, her eyes seeing the boxes and low-hanging baskets before I did. Things were starting to look familiar from the monitors, and looking behind me, I saw a tiny red light glowing from a camera. Not knowing if they were recording this, I gave it the one-fingered salute and followed Winona to the stairway.
This wasn't bad, it was almost too easy. Winona slowed, looking up the stairs in consideration. "You need some help?" I whispered, thinking of her oddly shaped legs. She was doing great on horizontal surfaces, but this was almost straight up and narrow.
"I don't know." She put a hand on the banister and turned to smile. "I think I can make it, but I'll need to go fast. Maybe if you could open the door at the top so I don't run into it?"
Nodding, I touched her shoulder and crept up the stairs, listening. The woman was strong, I'd give her that. At the top of the stairs, I hesitated, then slowly turned the dented brass knob. I had no idea where we were.
The door stuck for a second, then the old paint let go and it swung open. Cooler air slipped past my feet, somehow smelling mustier than the basement. It was dark, and I gave the narrow, tall-ceilinged hall a careful look before slipping out. One way led to an open room, the other dead-ended at a window. It was even darker outside, no moon at all.
"Okay!" I whispered down the stairs, then stood in the hall and held the door while Winona tried the first stair. She almost fell, but then she backed up, gathered her long coat, and took the stairs at a dead run.
My eyes widened as she barreled up, making enough noise for six goats. She was out of control at the top, and I grabbed her arm to keep her from hitting the wall. Behind us, the door eased shut. I held her arm until she found her balance, then let go. Both of us were breathing heavily, me from fear, Winona from exertion. "You okay?" I whispered, and she pulled the long coat aside to look at her impossibly thin ankles.
"I think so," she said, then smiled, her thick canines catching the faint light. "Let's go."
There was only one way, and she tried to walk softly, but her hooves clacked on the old wood floor. If anyone was here, they'd hear it. Wincing with each step, we tiptoed to the end of the hall and looked into what seemed like a restored living room from the 1800s, complete with placards and roped-off chairs. Tall windows let in the faint light and cold through thin panes of glass wavering with age. Soft emergency lights lit the space, and by a set of official-looking doors was a reception desk. Thank God. There'd be a phone.
"Where are we?" Winona asked, and I sent my eyes up to the ceiling where a mock-up of the solar system shifted in the draft from the heating ducts.
"The observatory," I said, hope making me jittery. Damn, we were like ten minutes from my mom's old house. "Stay here. I'll make a call, and we can just sit and wait."
"Rachel," she hissed, but I was already moving. We could be home in an hour, have the entire HAPA crew in custody in fifteen minutes.
I slid behind the desk, looking for the phone. Seeing it, I picked it up and punched in Glenn's number. The 911 service would take forever.
"Rachel!"
"What!" I whispered loudly, then frowned. Why wasn't I hearing a phone ring? Hell, I wasn't even hearing a dial tone.
"Look out!" Winona shouted, and I looked up at the dark shadow coming at me.
"Get down!" Eloy shouted, and I threw the phone at him. It wasn't connected to the wall, and it sailed the thirty feet and crashed on the floor in a crack of plastic.
"Now!" Chris shouted from somewhere, and the lights flashed on, blinding me. Winona shrieked, and I heard Gerald grunt. Squinting, I saw him holding his middle and Winona running from him, those feet of hers easily outdistancing Jennifer, reaching for her.
"Son of a bitch," I snarled as I pulled the dart gun, aiming at Eloy and pulling the trigger.
Eloy slid to a stop five feet from me, the little dart with the red fletch hitting him right in the arm where I wanted it. His eyes went to it, and my bravado evaporated when he plucked it out and shook his head. Blanks! I thought, then threw the gun at him, pissed.
Eloy ducked, and the gun clattered next to the broken phone. In the background, Jennifer and Chris were trying to corral Winona. She skittered from them, her eyes almost shut from the light.
"Too easy," Eloy said as he reached for me. "I told them you could escape."
"Yeah? Well, you were right!" I said, and kicked at him. Or at least I would have if someone hadn't sucker-punched me in the head.
Stars exploded as pain reverberated from my ear to my nose and back again. I reeled backward, suddenly nauseated as the lights went gray and the world spun. I fell to one knee, caught by someone smelling like blue jeans. It was Gerald, and his eyes still held the pain from where Winona had kicked him.
"This was a bad idea!" Chris was yelling. "She made it to the phone!"
Eloy bent over me, and I tried to push his hand away when he peeled my eyelids back to make sure my pupils dilated right. "That's why I unplugged it. Hag."
"Will one of you help us with goat girl here!" Chris shouted, clearly frazzled.
"You are all going to rot in hell, even if I have to carry you there on my back," I breathed. My eyes were shut, but I could hear Winona's hooves and hear her crying, trying to find a way out.
"Look, you ugly goat!" Eloy shouted, and I felt him grab my hair and pull my head up. "Either you stop running, or I'm going to kill her! Right now! And it will be your fault!"
"Go, Winona," I tried to shout, but it came out in a whisper. "Go . . ."
"I mean it!" Eloy shouted, and something cold touched my throat. "I'll cut her open right here, and she'll bleed out in front of you!"
I tried to open my eyes, failing.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" Winona cried out, and then she yelped. I heard a skittering of hooves, and then her sobbing close by. The knife vanished from my neck, and Eloy let go of my hair. My head fell against Gerald, and I felt like crying, too. It had all been a setup. They'd wanted to know if we could escape, and we walked right into it, all the way down to the blanks in the dart gun and the disconnected phone. I was such an idiot.
My head lolled as Gerald flung me over his shoulder. The blood rushed to my spinning head, clearing it for an instant, and then it got fuzzy again.
"Hey!" Chris shouted, and I felt her take her notebook out of my back pocket. "You're stealing my research?" she shouted.
"It's evidence," I slurred. "Get it right . . . bitch."
"The chubi tried to take my research!" she exclaimed again, and I managed to get my eyes open, right when the lights went off again.
"Shut the hell up," Eloy grumbled, and we all started back to the stairway. "Lock it up next time."
"She's not going to get out again," Chris vowed, and somehow, as I was carried back downstairs and dumped on a cold floor, I couldn't argue with her.
I'd failed miserably. If I'd had my magic, I could have put up a circle and blocked that punch. I could have flooded Gerald with ever-after and dropped him like a rock. I could have lit the dark with a light, melted the bars with a word, punched a hole through the walls of the basement itself! But without it . . . I was nothing. Useless.
It wasn't who I wanted to be.