Nightshades (10 page)

After Lindy and Giselle disappeared through the doorway, Alex caught—not a sound exactly, but more of the sensation of movement all around them. Then the heavy front door—which had a slow-release mechanism attached—slammed shut, the square of safety glass shattering and tinkling to the ground. A number of people began to shout at once, but Alex motioned them quiet.

He instructed Ruiz and the assistant, a twenty-five-year-old kid named LaRouse, to start helping the injured and call an ambulance. “Chase, Hadley, with me,” he said in a low voice. “The rest of you, stay put until we clear the building.” Ruiz looked as if he wanted to protest, but Alex just glared at him.

They moved to the outer edges of the building. Alex posted Hadley at the lobby, so any stragglers couldn’t circle back around and evade them. Then he and Chase painstakingly cleared every single empty office. They took no chances, kicking in locked doors and searching every space large enough to hold a human being. Even with no furniture in the building, this took a good fifteen minutes. By the time they got back, the ambulance had come and taken away the injured, leaving him with just Chase, Hadley, LaRouse, and Ruiz, who still looked stricken.

“What now?” Chase asked.

“Now we go after her. Get Noelle on the phone.” Chase nodded and headed for a landline.

“Sir?” It was Hadley’s voice from behind him. Alex had only had time to exchange a few words with the tall, redheaded woman, but as he turned to face her, the younger agent’s eyes were bright and determined. “Why would we rescue a shade from one of her own?” Her tone was heavy with unspoken accusation:
And why did you bring a shade in here?

“Because she’s one of us, too,” Alex said shortly. He raised his voice and addressed the room. “Being a shade doesn’t make her evil.”

“Oh, so she’s a
good
monster,” Hadley said stubbornly.

Alex glared at her, and then at every remaining member of his team. “Yes, I brought a shade in here. Get over it. There are bigger things in play here than what you think of Lindy.”

He marched over to the bulletin board and jabbed a finger at the photos of the missing teenagers. “You heard what that psycho bitch said. Giselle is taking Lindy straight to Hector, who has those kids. And some of them are still alive. We find Lindy, we find the kids.” He looked over their heads at Chase, who was hanging up the phone. “Chase?”

“They’re still in motion,” the other agent reported. “Heading south. Noelle’s back in town; she’s gonna come straight here.”

Alex gave a curt nod. “Call Gil Palmer. Get an FBI breach team together,” Alex ordered. “We’re going straight to this thing’s lair, and we’re gonna need manpower.”

Chase nodded. “It’ll take about twenty, thirty minutes to get them together.”

“Fine.” Alex looked down, remembering the blood on his shirt. He should have been smart enough to leave a change of clothes here at the office, but for God’s sake, they’d only been in Chicago for fifteen hours. Then he remembered Lindy’s strange comment about her cat. The hotel was only five minutes away. He told Chase his intention, and asked his friend to get everyone ready to leave in thirty minutes. Then he called for Hadley. “I need a driver,” Alex told her.

The young woman was silent on the drive to the hotel, her jaw rigid. Alex, who was used to joking around with Chase during quiet moments, started to get uncomfortable. Being someone’s boss still felt fairly new to him, and he wondered if he’d come down too hard on the woman for questioning his orders. He scrambled for something to say, some way of breaking the tension and clearing the air between them. He didn’t have much time before they reached the hotel.

“So,” Alex said finally, “are you a Cubs fan?”

Hadley burst out laughing, which was exactly what he’d been hoping for. “Yes, sir. But I don’t have much time to follow them anymore.”

“Your file suggests you’re a Bureau superstar,” he said, just to see how she’d react.

“Yes, sir.”

“But you wanted to join the BPI?”

“Yes, sir.” She glanced over at him. “It could use a few more superstars, don’t you think?”

He couldn’t argue with that.

They pulled up to the hotel, and Alex jumped out, running through the lobby at a full sprint. Hadley would follow after securing the car with the valet. Alex ignored the stares of the concierge—they knew there were FBI agents staying there—and headed for his room, where he quickly changed into jeans, a button-down, and a sport coat. Easier to run and fight in, but still a bit formal, in case he came face-to-face with Hector that night. After a moment of hesitation, Alex dug a second room key out of his wallet—Lindy’s. He’d had it made when they checked in, just in case.

Her door was kitty-cornered from his. Alex inserted the plastic key and pushed the handle, keeping a foot in the door. He was aware of the cat—he’d had to pay a pet deposit when he checked into the block of rooms—and didn’t know if it was the kind of cat that would take off the second a door opened. Or, you know, attack him. Nothing happened, and Alex poked his head into the room. It barely looked occupied—the only signs were a small food and water dish just inside the door, and a packed suitcase set on one of those little stands.

“Do I need to draw my weapon, sir?” came Hadley’s voice. Alex jumped and sent a glare over his shoulder. The young agent was standing there with an amused, innocent expression on her face.

“It’s possible,” Alex said stiffly, “that I’m a little twitchy around cats.”

“Yes, sir.”

He walked all the way into the room, Hadley on his heels. No sign of the cat, but there was an unopened bag of food propped against the wall on the other side of the suitcase. Alex frowned at it. He’d really felt as if Lindy was trying to tell him something. He eyed the suitcase and waved toward the food bowl. “Would you mind?” he said to Hadley. She stepped forward and began doling out cat food. The moment the kibble hit the bowl, a gray streak flashed toward them from behind the bed. Alex stepped back so it could get by on its way to the dish. Okay, he jumped back. “Well, there’s the cat,” Hadley observed.

“Yeah.” He unzipped the suitcase, exposing clothes, a toiletry bag, a few pairs of shoes—and a brown package, approximately the size of a large picture frame. Alex picked it up, turning it over. The brown paper was sealed tightly, and on the other side Lindy had written in permanent marker: “Lindy’s Homemade Cat Treats (Stinky).”

“Is that what you were looking for, sir?”

Alex found a tape-free spot of paper and began ripping. When the box was finally free, he peered cautiously under the lid. And smiled. “You know, I think it is.”

Lindy woke up angry.

She remembered how waking had often taken her ages as a human, like peeling back many delicate layers in order to go from full REM to full consciousness. There were so many subtle changes to awareness, and they all had to be swum through before she could actually function. As a shade, however, waking up was usually fairly instantaneous, even after whatever it was that had been used to knock her out. One moment, she was fully unconscious. The next, she was alert and spitting mad.

She was also tied down.

The room was nearly pitch-black. While Lindy waited for her shade-enhanced eyes to adjust, she tested her bonds. She was lying on her back in some sort of reclining chair, and she could feel dozens of plastic zip ties fastened around each wrist and forearm, anchoring her to the chair arms. More plastic zip ties anchored her neck to the back of the chair—just loose enough that she could turn her head but not lift it. Some sort of heavy nylon climbing rope secured her legs to the footrest. She wiggled her hands, but the ties were much too tight for her to slide her arms free, even if she drew blood. She would have to pull hard enough to yank off most of the skin on her arms, and although she could probably survive that, her hands would be too damaged to pull the rest of the ties free.

There was also something heavy attached to her left arm, on top of the zip ties. When her eyes finally adjusted Lindy squinted down and saw that a couple of lead vests had been wrapped around her arm. She swore. They’d figured out that the bracelet was a tracker. She supposed she should be grateful that Hector hadn’t decided to just cut off her arm to remove it.

Lindy looked around, trying to take in her surroundings. It was a fairly small room, with a counter on either side of her, and a window with closed shades just in front. Some kind of exam room? Everything looked shabby and derelict, as if the decor hadn’t been updated since the nineties. She turned her head as far as it would go and tried to peer out of the corner of her eye, but she saw only a door handle, presumably leading to the rest of the building. She sniffed, but the whole room had been masked with vinegar. How obnoxious. She hated having that vulnerable blind spot directly behind her. Hector would have known that, of course. What a wanker.

There was a loud beep and a crackle just behind her, and Lindy jumped, her neck and arms pinching against the zip ties. “Subject is awake, sir,” came a low voice from directly behind her. She cursed out loud, in Russian. “Who’s there?” Lindy demanded in her best royal tone. “Answer me!”

“My name is Gregor, ma’am.” The voice was respectful and professional . . . and maybe a tiny bit familiar? “The king is on his way to see you now.”

Lindy suppressed a snort. The king. Of course Hector would want people to call him that. “Have we met before, Gregor? Your voice sounds familiar.”

“Yes, ma’am, in New York in 1983. I was with Hector’s security force.”

Lindy winced, glad he wouldn’t see it. “Ah.”

The door handle turned, and then a light switch flicked on, sending bright fluorescents bursting into her sensitive vision. Lindy blinked hard, seeing spots. Her brother really was a dick. “Hello, Hector,” she said with a sigh. She didn’t bother turning her head.

“Hello, Sieglind.”

Her brother stepped into view. He had been a tall man back in their day, though now his height was considered average. He had her dark blond hair, though his was fashionably cropped in the latest style, and sharply slanted cheekbones directing the eye to his square chin. His bright blue eyes were almost always dancing, a genetic quirk that had gotten them out of many scrapes when they were children running around the castle. He wore a stylish suit with no tie, open at the collar, and looked in every way like a Good Guy, the kind of person who would let his dates win at pool and charm the pants off their parents. But he was a killer, and Lindy was the one person who never forgot that.

He gazed at her, waiting for a response, but she just watched him silently. He didn’t like that. Lifting an arm, he snapped his fingers at someone behind her. She
hated
not being able to see. “You can begin now,” Hector commanded. “The drug has worn off.”

The person stepped into view: a black woman, in her midthirties maybe, slender and nervous looking. She was carrying a tray filled with medical supplies: tubes, syringes, empty vials, even Band-Aids. Lindy heard the woman’s pulse jumping around in her chest and realized she was human. That wasn’t like Hector at all. She cocked an eyebrow at her brother.

“Oh, this is Stella,” he said dismissively. “She’s a hematologist. Helping me with my studies.”

Stella began pulling on surgical gloves. Lindy couldn’t resist asking her brother, “What did you shoot me with?” She didn’t know of any drug that could affect a shade’s system. Then again, she didn’t exactly experiment.

Hector smiled broadly, enjoying the moment to brag. “Methamphetamine. It’s man-made, so our bodies don’t quite know how to process it. As it turns out, they shut down for a time.”

Lindy absorbed this knowledge as Stella pulled on surgical gloves, tied rubber tubing around Lindy’s right arm, and insert a needle to draw blood. As she worked, her eyes lowered, Lindy saw dark bruises on the woman’s upper arms and one wrist. They were clearly finger marks, as if she’d been grabbed and maneuvered around like furniture. Her face was expressionless, but her hands were trembling.

“It’s all right,” Lindy said quietly. Stella looked up, meeting her eyes for the first time. She looked surprised. “I’ll be still,” Lindy told her.

Stella nodded tightly and continued her work, but her shoulders had relaxed a little bit. While the vials of blood began to fill, Hector paced a little, peering through the blinds, checking his watch. He wasn’t used to being ignored, but he also didn’t want to speak first and reveal his annoyance. Lindy suppressed a smile. Some things didn’t change.

The young woman filled eight vials with her blood, enough that Lindy started to feel the loss. Her body would replenish it quickly, but she was going to need to feed before the end of the night, especially if there was fighting. And God, Lindy hoped there would be fighting.

When the last vial was filled, Stella set it on the tray next to the others and peeled off her gloves, looking to Hector for orders. “Leave us,” he said flatly. “Begin the testing.”

The young woman nodded and left the room with the tray. Lindy heard, rather than saw, Gregor follow her out. Hector leaned against the counter, watching her expectantly.

“So, Sieglind,” he said finally. “You don’t call, you don’t write.”

“I get that way about people who try to kill me.”

“In New York?” He scoffed. “Please. That was barely a real attempt.”

She felt anger rising and tamped it down again. “And yet Rhys died.”

“Who?”

She recognized the bait for what it was and stayed silent. After a moment, Hector sighed and inclined his head. “Okay, fine. I’m sorry your little boyfriend died. I never thought he would have made the cut, but whatever. That’s all in the past. We need to think about the future.” He frowned. “I need to know how you shut me out.”

Lindy said nothing for a long moment, but this time Hector was prepared to wait her out. He straightened up so he could tower over her, arms folded.

“Why did you waste those children?” Lindy asked instead.

He waved a hand. “The experiment failed. That happens with lab animals. It’s not like they were the first.” He saw the surprise on her face and chuckled. “Oh, come on, Sieglind. You didn’t really think I just started these trials? I’ve been working on this for years. This crop is only the first time I’ve allowed anyone to notice.”