Redlisted (40 page)

“You would
do well not to place too much trust in her progeny, Kate,”
Desmond says. “They’re all liars and manipulators of the
worst sort. Especially Dr. Radcliffe.”

My eyelids flutter
as the number flashes into my mind’s eye. One eight nine three.
I punch the numbers into the matrix; the door clicks and slides open.

“Wait—how
on earth did you—“

I shove Adam over
the threshold, scoop up the box and jump inside the panic room. I
whirl around and pull the door closed behind me; it slams shut with a
satisfying click.

I sink to my hands
and knees, exhausted.

I take a look at
Adam. It’s a mistake. He’s bleeding out from the head
wound. He must be dead.

I collapse next to
him, sobbing.

{Kate}

When I finally
look up once more, I notice a television hanging from a mount on the
ceiling of the panic room. It’s hooked up to a closed-circuit
camera displaying a feed of Desmond’s office. He’s
standing out there, waiting for me, leaning against his desk with his
arms folded across his chest.

I grit my teeth. I
need to come up with a plan. I try to remind myself that Adam might
be alive—after all, didn’t he tell me that the only way
to kill a revenant is to destroy its heart? I can’t understand
how he could survive what just happened, but nevertheless, I’ll
have to believe that he can.

I fumble around in
Adam’s pockets, eventually finding his phone in the back pocket
of his jeans. Somehow, even this deep underground, it’s getting
a signal. He had wanted to call Julian. Maybe Julian’s number
is in his contacts? I take a look; it is. I press the talk button
twice, dialing the number, and hold the phone to my ear.

Wait. What am I
doing, trying to call someone on the phone? I’m mute!

I cut the call and
only barely manage not to throw the phone against the wall in a fit
of rage.

Desmond looks up
and speaks to the camera.

“You should
know that the chamber is hermetically sealed,” he says. “Your
air supply will run out in a matter of hours. A day at most.”

I gnaw on a
cuticle. I wish he’d go back to waiting quietly.

“You have
two choices, Kate. Open the door or die.”

I cover my ears,
thinking, trying to ignore him. Do centuries-old vampires answer text
messages? Somehow I can’t imagine Julian having a cell phone...

“If you open
the door, I will do nothing to harm you. I promise.” He stands,
still staring directly into the camera lens.

I shake my head
no, although I know he can’t see me.

“Eventually
the panic program will reset. I will be able to get inside,” he
says. “And I will get the head, and Dr. Radcliffe’s
blood. If you resist me your death will mean nothing.”

Fuck him. I’d
rather die here than listen to him.

I look through
Adam’s recent calls. The night we left Tara’s estate he
made a call to an unidentified ten-digit number. A number I’ve
seen before.

The image of a
white business card flashes into my head. All that’s written on
it is a ten-digit phone number—the same number in Adam’s
recent calls. That red-headed teenage girl, Conspiracy Theory. She
gave it to me at the coffee shop, said to call if I ever got into
trouble...

I punch a text
message into Adam’s phone. It takes forever; my hands are
shaking and it’s difficult to read the tiny letters in the dim
light of the panic room.

Conspiracy? Its
pageslave. Im in trouble.

I hit Send.

I wait. Desmond
inspects his fingernails. The puddle of blood on the floor seeps
slowly outward from Adam’s head wound.

The phone buzzes.

PageSlave?
Where are you? Why are you using Adam’s phone?

My heart leaps
into my throat.

Red
hook,
I
type.
Ghouls
and crazy Warden trying to kill me. Help.

Just a moment
later her reply appears:
Wait.
You’re with Adam in Red Hook? Is he there?

Yes. But he
passed out.

Desmond runs a
hand through his hair.

I wait.

Do
you have the head?
Conspiracy asks.

What? How the hell
does she know about that?

Oh God. What if
she’s on Mirabel’s side? I gnaw on a knuckle. What do I
do?

Are
you there?

Oh, fuck it. If
she is with Mirabel, I’m not telling her anything she doesn’t
already know.

Yes,
I reply.
Its
with me.

Okay.
Hold
on.

What? Hold on?
Now? What the hell does she need to do that’s more important
than this?

It takes her over
a minute to reply.

Here’s
what you’re going to need to do. It might sound weird, but
you’re going to have to trust me.

I laugh through my
nose, two little sniffs. Nothing is weird to me anymore.

First,
you’ll need to drink some of Adam’s blood. Enough to fill
an 8oz glass.

OK
done,
I type without hesitation.

Right.
I won’t ask. Now you need to lure those ghouls to the warden
who’s trying to kill you.

How?

I deduce the
answer for myself just before her message hits the screen.

Use
the head.

I pocket the phone
and pick up the box.

It is black, held
shut with steel hardware, a heavy combination lock hooked into a
latch on the top. I hold the lock in my palm and close my eyes,
reaching out to the mind of the object, hoping it will share its
secret code with me.

It comes easily.
Two, thirteen, forty-three. I spin the dial, pull the body of the
lock free from the hook, and throw the box open.

Mnemosyne’s
head is covered in a shroud of crimson silk. I reach inside and pull
it out with both hands. Her face is turned towards mine; I can almost
feel her observing me from beneath her heavy veil. As I remove the
shroud, a voice crackles between my ears.

What do you
think you’re doing, little mortal?

I nearly drop the
head, unprepared for the interrogation.

I’m
trying to help Adam!
I tell her.
To
help him save you from being incinerated by Desmond Schuster!

I hear a sound
like laughter.

My lips tighten
across my teeth.
Tell
me what to do.

If
you require my assistance, establish the circuit,
she
tells me, her tone somehow both didactic and mocking despite simply
being the idea of a voice.
Place
your fingers on my temples.

I turn the head
outwards, place the heels of my hands at the nape of her neck, and
slide my middle fingers into the hollows by her eyes. The effect is
immediate; I have the sense of being in two places at once, which
somehow makes both locations feel more distant, less real.

This
is nothing,
she insists, sensing my apprehension.
Close
your eyes and it will begin in earnest.

I can’t
disobey.

Within seconds, my
awareness of my body recedes. My consciousness—our combined
consciousness—begins to fill the space around us, spreading out
from the panic room until it fills the entire basement complex. I see
Desmond in his office; Haruko, passed out on the ramp to the
incinerator room; a mountain of bodies in a seminar room; and Aya, in
the garage, getting into a car. She’s going to escape! I want
to reach out and grab her, to beat her unconscious—

We
could,
Mnemosyne informs me.
In
a sense.

I consider this
for a moment.
Could
we do it to Desmond?

Of
course not,
she says.
He’s
a Warden.

Our perspective
continues to expand, floating upwards to fill the residence in the
Drowned Lands, where Mirabel’s presence swarms like a hive of
bees. The ghouls are combing the grounds, searching for an entrance
to the compound. The doppelganger is washing Haruko’s blood off
the floor to the elevator room.

We
need to get the ghouls down here,
I think, feeling somewhat insane.
We
can’t fight Desmond otherwise.

I snap back into
myself.

Mnemosyne blinks;
her lips twitch. She speaks in a breathless whisper—a real
voice, not just the concept of one.

“If only it
were that simple. They are Mirabel’s to command. It would be
your will against hers.” She frowns. “Do you honestly
think yourself worthy to stand against her?”

I take a deep
breath.

Don’t
be ridiculous,
I
tell her with all the defiance I can put behind a thought.
I’m
the only one who is.

Mnemosyne laughs.
“Very well. We shall see.”

We extend
ourselves outward again.

We whisper the
secret code into the ears of the swarm, and they come. Ten of them
fit into the elevator at once; the first of them wait patiently for
the rest of them to arrive. Once they have descended from the
residence, they begin to fan out, scouring the hallways. They’re
so organized it’s terrifying. How does she manage to control
them all so precisely? How can she split her mind in so many
directions at once?

“Pull
yourself together, mortal!” Mnemosyne says. “You will not
fail me!”

I can’t tell
whether that’s a vote of confidence or a threat.

“Attack her
now. Once the horde spreads out, it will be far more difficult.”

But
how?
I bite down on my lower lip.

“Command
them. Force them to heed your word.”

I think back to
the encounter I had with the deer—oh, God, and the fight I had
with Gabriel—

“Don’t
start dwelling on your failures now, girl. I can’t abide
self-pity.”

I swallow hard and
push out at the ghouls with my mind.
Listen
to me! You’re mine now!

The ghouls look up
with a start, their heterogeneous bodies all performing the exact
same gesture.

“Who are
you?” their voices call in response.

Mnemosyne frowns.
“That wasn’t enough. Push harder.”

I can’t
think of anything to say.

“Well, hurry
up. You need to say something.”

Say something.
Something commanding.

I’m the
boss now. You obey me and no one else!

The ghouls flinch,
then start convulsing as if an electric current had passed through
them. For a second I think I’ve done it, but then my vision
begins to darken, my sense of place begins to erode...