The Rising (35 page)

“I'm concerned about all—”

“Very noble. But your focus is on your own children and Chloe. You can have them. In return, I want the Phoenix subjects.”

“Why?”

She laughed. “Didn't I just mention how valuable they are? I can have a dozen buyers lined up in a week. International Cabals, independent brokers . . .”

“Sell us?” I said. “We're not commodities.”

“Oh, yes, dear. You are.”

“But . . . Calvin Antone. You . . .”

“Your father is desperate. Desperate men are easily fooled, particularly by middle-aged women who play the love-struck fool. He thought he was using me. It was the other way around.”

I turned on Moreno. “And you. He trusted you.”

Moreno shrugged. “I was happy to be his wingman while it seemed to my advantage. Then I got a better offer. It happens.”

“If it's an outside deal, how will I get my kids back?” Kit asked. “The Cabals have them.”

Chloe's and Derek's heads both whipped Kit's way.

“You're considering this?” Chloe said.

“I can get them,” Dr. Inglis said. “We'll take Corey now, as a gesture of good faith from you. Then I will take Daniel for your son and Maya for your daughter.”

“Dad?” Derek said.

Kit didn't answer him. He didn't even look over.

Chloe looked from us to Kit, her blue eyes wide. “Y-you c-can't—”

Derek leaped to his feet. “I won't let you do this, Dad. These kids came to you for help.”

I gaped at Derek. Even Chloe looked confused. I might have known the guy for less than twenty-four hours, but short of demonic possession, I couldn't imagine him saying that. Derek was a wolf and I knew enough about pack canines to know—as he'd shown already—that his priority was his family. The welfare of strangers came a very distant second.

As he argued, though, Kit looked . . . relieved.

Daniel looked at both of them, then jumped up beside Derek. “You are not going to trade us for your kids. After everything we've been through? I won't let that happen.”

Kit stood and faced the two, his back to the intruders. He lifted his hands. “Stay calm, boys. Just stay calm. We need to make a deal, but I promise no one will get hurt.”

“No way,” Derek said. “I cannot believe you would . . .”

As he ranted, Kit mouthed something to Daniel. Daniel hesitated, but Derek glanced over with a nod.

“Just relax, boys,” Kit said. “Look at Maya and Corey. They're being reasonable. I need you two to follow—”

“No!” Daniel shouted—his sonic boom shout was so loud, my ears rang.

The shout sent Kit and the guards flying. Everyone who'd been behind Daniel only wobbled, only those in front of him fell. It took a split second for most of us to realize what had happened, and that the guards were on the floor, stunned by that sonic shout.

Derek hadn't hesitated. As soon as Daniel shouted, he charged. He grabbed the gun from the nearest guard and threw it aside as Daniel tackled the next one. Corey went after the third and I pounced on the fourth. I got the gun easily—my target was still on the floor, stunned. I kicked it over to Chloe, who was gathering them up.

Beside me, Corey was struggling with his guard, who'd snapped out of it and was on his feet again. Daniel raced over to help. The gun fired. Daniel staggered back.

The other guards were up now, fighting back, but I saw none of that. Just Daniel stumbling, Daniel falling. Daniel with blood blossoming on his chest. Daniel shot.

I screamed. I barely heard it in the din around me. Everyone was shouting. Everyone was fighting. No one had noticed Daniel fall. Just me. No one was running to help him. Just me.

I raced over as Corey continued struggling with his guard, oblivious. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Corey get the guy in a headlock. Saw him look over. Saw him notice Daniel. His eyes rounded and the blood drained from his face. As I ran to Daniel's side, Corey began to release his grip on his target, as if he'd forgotten he was still holding him.

“No!” I said.

He snapped out of it, then hauled his guy out of the way as I dropped to the floor. Daniel was blinking to stay conscious, his breathing shallow.

“It's okay,” I said as I tugged his shirt off to get a better look. “You're okay.”

He wasn't. I could tell that by his breathing and his face, ghostly white, his lips trembling.

Someone knocked into me. I twisted, ready to shove, claw, whatever I had to do. I felt a faint twitch in my hands, and terror shot through me. I couldn't shift. Not now. But it was only Derek bumping me as he grappled with a guard. They toppled the other way, and that first lick of rage subsided, letting me thankfully focus on Daniel.

The bullet had gone into his side. The right side, away from his heart. Were there any vital organs there? I should know, but my panicked brain kept throwing up images of animal anatomy instead. My hands shook as I pressed the wadded-up shirt to his wound to stanch the blood.

“I liked them better when they were using tranq darts,” Daniel whispered, managing a weak smile.

“Don't talk.”

He reached to touch my hand and I looked at his face. There was a smattering of freckles across his nose, usually invisible unless he'd been out in the sun, but I could see them now, his skin so pale, I stared at them, then lifted my gaze to his eyes and felt my heart squeeze so hard my eyes filled with tears.

I love you. I'm not sure if it's the way you want me to. I think it might be. But I know that I love you. I absolutely love you.

“Maya?” He wiped tears from my cheek. “It's bad, huh?”

“No,” I said, snapping out of it. “No, it's not. You'll be fine.”

Someone grabbed my arm and yanked me to my feet, and there was a moment where I had no idea where I was, why someone was with us. Then the room snapped back into focus, and I heard the grunts and the smacks, saw the blur of fists and bodies.

One of the guards had me. He whipped me around, arm going to my neck. I bit him. Didn't think about it. Just saw that bare arm coming toward my face and chomped down. He yowled. I started to let go. Then I saw Daniel on the floor, and I bit down harder, kicking back at my captor as my mouth filled with blood.

Let me go or I'll kill you. I swear I'll kill you if you keep me from him.

The guard continued to yowl, but didn't release his grip. Then someone grabbed him from behind. His arm loosened. I stopped biting and jammed my thumb into the wound, grinding it. He let go then, screaming, as Corey whipped him off me.

I scrambled down beside Daniel again. I pressed my fingers to the shirt wadded against his wound, closed my eyes, and focused on helping him. On healing him. I imagined the bullet in his chest and imagined the tissues around it sealing off, blood vessels closing, keeping him safe.

When I opened my eyes, he was even paler, his pupils starting to dilate.

“No!” I said. “Do you feel that? It's shock. Don't go into shock.”

He nodded and swallowed.

I clasped his hand with my free one. “Stay with me, okay? Please. Just stay with me.”

He looked up at me and smiled. “You know I will. Always.”

His eyelids fluttered, then closed.

“No!”

I grabbed his shoulders and his eyes opened.

“Okay,” he mumbled. “I'm okay. Just give me a sec.”

He rubbed his face with both hands, and some of the color started to return. Then a hand touched my shoulder.

I looked to see Chloe kneeling beside me. “Can he move, Maya?”

I looked around. Three of the guards were unconscious, two with tranquilizer darts sticking out of them. One sat in the corner, cradling his arm, bone sticking from it, his eyes wide with shock. There were two more—presumably the ones who'd been outside, including the one I'd bitten. Corey, Kit, and Derek were subduing them. Dr. Inglis was unconscious on the floor. And Moreno? He was nowhere to be seen.

“Can he move?” Chloe repeated.

“He shouldn't—” I began.

“I can,” Daniel said. “I'll just need a little help.”

Across the room, Derek slammed his opponent's head against the wall. Kit hit the other with a spell like a lightning bolt and Corey jumped him with a dart.

Kit looked over. “Can he—?”

Chloe nodded.

“I'm not sure he should . . .” I began.

“I have to,” Daniel said.

“It won't be far,” Kit said as he hurried over to help Daniel.

“I've got him,” Derek said. “You'll need to clear the way with spells.”

“Liz says we're clear,” Chloe said. “The parking lot's empty, but we should go out the back if we can.”

“And fast,” Corey said. “This guy over here's starting to stir.”

We got into the bathroom. The window was big enough for Derek to get through, so we'd all make it. They broke the glass and cleared it. Chloe went out. Derek next, to help lower Daniel, but as soon as we tried to boost him up to the window, blood gushed from his wound.

“We have to go out the front,” I said. “Everyone else can go out here. Derek? Can you help me take him?”

Derek nodded. “Dad? Take Chloe and Cor—”

Chloe cut him off, talking fast, “Liz said reinforcements just arrived. A big black SUV full of big guys in black suits. We need to go this way.”

“I can do it,” Daniel said. “Just hand me that towel. It'll stop the bleeding long enough . . .”

He trailed off as Kit edged past us, through the bathroom door, back into the bedroom. Derek strode after him. One of the guards was stirring. So was Dr. Inglis, groggily pushing her way up.

“Dad?”

Kit pulled back a corner of the drape. He peered out, then turned to us. “It's not reinforcements. Not theirs, anyway. Do you still want to cut a deal?” He looked at me. “I can get us out of here, then we can work on getting my children and your friends back. We can fight. Or we can follow the plan.”

Fight or surrender. The answer seemed so obvious, didn't it? If we had an ounce of guts, of inner strength, of pride, we should go down fighting. Never stop. Never surrender.

Fighting could mean freedom. That had been our goal all along. For the Genesis kids, who'd taken down the Edison Group for their freedom. For us, who'd escaped a fire, helicopter crash, and kidnappings for our freedom. We'd lost friends for that freedom. Friends who were now waiting for us to come back and save them. How could we even consider giving up?

Because sometimes fighting wasn't the strong choice or the smart choice. It was just the stubborn, proud choice. We'd decided to negotiate. Just because we'd beaten Dr. Inglis and her goons didn't change the situation. Kit and his group had done a lot more than that, and they'd still admitted that it hadn't really gotten them anywhere, hadn't even gotten them freedom—just the illusion of it, hiding, terrified of capture, all the while being monitored by the St. Clouds.

Out in the world, we were mice, not just fleeing the cats on our tails, but hawks and owls and weasels and a host of other predators that were just waiting for the opportunity to swoop in and steal us. We weren't ready to fight back and we weren't ready to keep ourselves free and enjoy any kind of decent life. We needed to take what the Cabals offered, until they made us ready, in spite of themselves.

“Negotiate,” I said.

The others agreed. Kit nodded and pulled open the door, said, “Sir,” and stepped back.

The man didn't look like a “sir.” He was probably in his late twenties. His blond hair was pulled back in a small ponytail. His brilliant blue eyes reminded me of Mattias Nast's but there was no chill in them, just calm. He was dressed in casual pants and a pullover. Guards flanked him, hulking guys bigger than Derek, both wearing shades.

Someone strolled past them. A familiar figure. Moreno, just sauntering in, smiling, as if quite pleased with himself.

“Looks like your timing was a little off,” the young man said to Moreno.

Moreno shrugged. “Close enough. They handled it.”

“Mr. Nast,” Kit said to the young man, his chin dipping in a respectful nod.

“Sean, please,” the young man murmured as he walked into the room, surveying everything. His gaze went straight to Daniel as Derek helped him back into the room. He spun to his guards. “Get a medic in here. Now.”

Sean Nast. I remembered Antone had been told this would be the man in charge of the operation, not Mattias. Antone had wanted Sean.

“Sean,” Dr. Inglis said as she pushed to her feet. “This isn't what it looks like.”

“You will call me Mr. Nast.” Sean's eyes chilled as they swung her way. “You've attempted to sabotage an operation organized by your employer. That's treason.”

She staggered forward, bleating excuses. Sean waved for the remaining guard to take her and called others into the room.

“Clean this up,” he said, waving at the guards on the floor, as if they were pieces of litter.

Two medics came in then and rushed to Daniel. They got him onto a stretcher and took him out. When I tried to follow, the female medic stopped me.

“Let her go with you,” Sean said. He turned to me with a faint smile. “Maya, isn't it?”

“Yes, sir.”

He nodded and waved for me to follow the medics. Outside, two state police cars blocked the motel room entrance. Between them was an ambulance. That startled me . . . until I realized the people in them had to be Cabal employees, pretending to be real emergency personnel, as they waved away onlookers. Commandeering police cars and ambulances? Now I realized why Antone said we couldn't fight the Cabals.

I followed the medics to the ambulance and stayed out of their way as they checked Daniel. As I'd hoped, the bullet hadn't done any serious damage, but they did need to get him to a hospital for a better look and possible surgery. They had a clinic in Philadelphia—a special medical clinic for supernaturals, staffed by supernaturals. He'd go there by private jet. I'd accompany him and the others would follow.