Thirteen
Page 34

 Kelley Armstrong

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See, the plan was this …
“Controlled outbursts of supernatural activity,” Amanda explained. “This SLM group is trying to persuade supernaturals that coming out of the closet is a good idea. But it’s not. We know that, don’t we?”
Mom and I nodded.
“The problem is that a lot of supernaturals aren’t so sure. They think of how much simpler and better life would be if they didn’t have to hide their nature, and they tell themselves humans wouldn’t react that badly. I mean, the Inquisition is over.”
We nodded again.
“But our argument is that humans wouldn’t be less frightened of witches and half-demons than they were in the past. As it stands, they simply don’t believe we exist. If they knew otherwise, it would be just as bad as the witch-hunts. Telling supernaturals that doesn’t do any good, though. They need demonstrations.”
“Controlled outbursts of supernatural activity,” Mom said.
“Exactly. You may not be aware of this, but SLM is operating in New Orleans. Heavily operating. We heard they’ve been using supernaturals in law enforcement to arrest and sedate other supernaturals. Then they take them to a facility where they brainwash them.”
Not exactly …
“We need to find that facility,” she said. “We’ve located an office they’re using for local recruitment, but it’s not the laboratory.”
“So they do have an office in New Orleans,” Mom said. “That’s what our friends said. It’s on Gray Street, isn’t it?”
 
She shook her head. “McNally. But that’s just for training. We need the lab. We’re getting close, though. In the meantime, we managed to get one of our people to replace the drug courier. He has provided an officer with drugs that will lower inhibitions instead.”
“Making supernaturals more likely to use their powers,” Mom said.
Amanda beamed. “You catch on quick, honey. So, as we speak, there are a few imprisoned supernaturals who are going to decide they really don’t want to be imprisoned and forget that they shouldn’t use their powers to escape. We’re about to see some serious fireworks.”
Oh, they’d gotten fireworks. And when they realized it, they’d understand just how stupid it was to “plan” a supernatural outburst.
Next Amanda asked about us. We expanded on our fake bios, chattering away until her cell phone rang.
“Hey,” she said as she answered. “I was just thinking of you. I’ve got two new recruits here and I wanted to swing by and intro—”
She paused. Her face screwed up, like she’d heard wrong. “What?”
Another pause. Then, “Holy shit. You—” She swallowed. “You’re joking, right?” A pause. “No, of course you wouldn’t. But are you sure? Maybe Roberts—”
She blinked. Sucked in breath. Then she listened, just listened, her gaze blank, head nodding, and murmuring “okay, okay” under her breath.
“Toby?” she swallowed. “Are you—?” She caught herself this time. “Sorry, sorry. So Roberts is dead and Toby was seen being loaded into—” She caught herself again as she looked up at us, feigning shock as we listened in. “I’ll be right there.”
 
She stood, pawing through her purse for cash, murmuring, “I have to leave.”
“Is something wrong?” I said, rising, too. “Maybe we should—”
Mom caught my hand under the table, and squeezed tight enough to stop me midsentence. I stood my ground, giving her a look. Amanda was too flustered to notice. Mom shook her head. I glowered at her, but didn’t trust a privacy spell. So I sat waiting until Amanda was out of earshot.
“We should go with her,” I said. “I can talk her into taking us along. They’ll be distracted by this. It’ll be easy to get information.”
“Yes, but we don’t need it. This chapter of their movement is about to implode and they’ll be too busy picking up the pieces to escort recruits to a new chapter.”
“But—”
“She told us where to find these SLAM people. That’s what I need to do right now. Infiltrate them while they’re busy cleaning up a big mess of their own. And find out exactly what they’ve given Bryce.”
I swallowed. “Bryce. Right.” I nodded and stood. “Let’s go.”
She caught my hand again. “I’d like you to go to Miami. Elena and Clayton are here now. They can watch my back.”
I stiffened at that. As my mother, she wanted to shuttle me off to safety, even if it meant she might be taken back to the afterlife before we could see each other again. And yet, from her expression, so carefully blank, I knew she was hoping I’d refuse. That I’d give her a reason why I should stay.
So I said, “I know these people. They took me captive. I’ve met the leader and all the key players. You need me with you.”
She shook her head. “I can manage, baby. You’d be safe in Miami. It’s what they’d want. Paige, Lucas, Adam …”
 
“I’ll call them from the car,” I said. “I won’t fight them to stay, but I’m not leaving unless they insist.”
She hesitated, then nodded.

As we walked to the rental, I checked my phone and found a message waiting from Adam. Just one line: Would love to talk. I stared at that message. Just four words that could mean only “Hey, I’m bored, give me an update!” Except that when Adam did mean that, it’s exactly what he wrote. This was different. This was … “MORE personal” isn’t the right phrase. Adam has been part of my life since my mother died. He’s been my friend for years. I’ve told him things I’ve never told anyone else and I think he’s done the same with me. It’s always been personal. But this … it seemed different.
I wanted it to be different. That’s a given. I’ve been waiting all these years for it to become something different, but nothing ever changed between us until this morning.
Had it really been just this morning? It seemed like a week ago.
But this morning, Adam had kissed me and it hadn’t been just a peck on the cheek. Not a “I’m happy to see you didn’t perish under a pile of rubble” kind of kiss. It’d been a real one, the kind I’d been dreaming of since I was twelve and he walked into my cell to set me free, and burned my name in a heart on my prison wall. Burned his name on my heart, too.