The Wicked City (25 page)

Eric went back and forth between a bank of monitors and the bed. The room, aside from the blip of machines and the occasional murmur of the researchers, remained agonizingly quiet. The tension grew so heavy June thought the weight would snap her neck.

Eric approached the bed again. The woman researcher was checking Micha’s blood pressure. She started talking to Eric, and June strained to hear.

“His blood pressure and heart rate are elevated,” she said. “His temperature keeps fluctuating.”

Eric lifted his arm and looked at his watch. “It’s nearly nine thirty. I have an important meeting at ten.”

June narrowed her eyes. Who the hell had important meetings at ten o’clock at night?

Eric placed his hands on the bed and leaned over. “Mr. Bellevue, can you hear me? Do you understand me?”

Micha's eyes were glazed and unfocused, the way he'd been for the past couple days.

“You’ve been very cooperative,” Eric said. “So, I’m going to let your friends go. I’ll see them out myself.”

Muse snapped her head up. June tensed.

“I think we can give him the second dose,” Eric said to the woman. He patted Micha’s arm. “We’re going to give you the next round. I’ll come back and check on you in a bit.”

“I thought we were waiting until he processed the first one?” the woman said, with some concern.

“There’s no need. He’s doing fine.” Eric motioned to his men.

June’s heart raced as they hauled her, stiffly and painfully, to her feet. They weren’t being let go, she would put a lot of money on that.

Eric followed them out. In the hallway, he spoke to the guards. “Take them down to Special Projects. I think there’s still a few things we can learn before we dispose of them. No need to waste good research material.”

Eric turned and walked briskly down the hallway. June wanted to lunge after him, but she was pushed in a different direction.

“Move it,” the black guard said gruffly.

The guards ushered them through the empty hallways, Jason still unsteady, the white guard gripping his arm. With every step, June’s fear increased, mind racing to figure out a way to escape. They turned a corner and faced a bank of elevators. The black guard pressed the down button next to one.

June prayed Micha wouldn't die. She couldn’t dwell too much on it or grief would overwhelm her and she wouldn’t be able to focus on getting out.

A
ding
sounded, and the doors on one of the elevators slid open.

The elevator was wide and deep, as though made for transporting beds. They were herded in, and the white guard hit the button for the twentieth floor.

“Don’t you worry,” he said. “They’ll take good care of you down there. Eric doesn’t like his monkeys bruised.”

The doors slid shut.

June looked at the numbers. They were on the thirty-third floor. The elevator started to move, and each number after their floor lit in succession, counting down. Thirty-two…thirty-one…thirty… Her stomach dropped. She could barely breathe around the gag.

“You know,” the black guard laughed, mockingly, “you just got to witness history, how about that? Something to take with you to the other side.”

Twenty-seven…twenty-six…twenty-five…

“You’re both awful pretty though,” the white guard said. “I’m sure you can probably bargain your way out of being treated too badly.” He swept June with a slow, disgustingly appraising look. June wanted a sharp object and her hands free, so she could stick him in his eye.

At the twenty-second floor, the elevator lurched to a stop, settling beneath them. June stared at the strip of numbers, the changing light frozen. She looked at Muse. Muse looked back at her. They both looked at the doors.

“What the hell?” The white guard jabbed the “twenty” button several times, but the elevator remained still.

“Someone called for the elevator on this floor,” the black guard said. “There’s not supposed to be anyone down here, is there?”

They both drew their guns and took a step back. June braced herself. After a tense physics-defying moment, the doors slid open. The appearance of the two men on the other side shocked everyone in the elevator, except for probably Jason, as he wouldn’t know either of their faces.

“Drop those toy pistols,” Sam said.

June knew little about guns, but she knew Sam had a shotgun. A sawed off one, with two barrels.

“I guarantee I have better aim,” Sam said. “And mine will take out an entire internal organ.”

The two guards didn’t drop their guns, but they didn’t fire, either.

“You heard him,” the other man said. He too held an impressive-looking gun, but his looked like something out of a gangster movie. He was tall, older, handsome.

Muse looked a lot like her father. That’s why June had recognized him on TV.

“We’ll drop you both before you can pull the triggers,” Aaron said. “They’ll be cleaning bits of you out of the elevator shaft for weeks.”

“We have orders from Eric Greerson,” the black guard said. “We’re not letting you near these prisoners.”

Aaron stepped forward and jerked a hand out to stop the elevator doors from closing. Both guards aimed their guns at him. Aaron remained calm.

“Drop your guns,” Aaron said firmly, “or I’ll shoot you right between the eyes, which will probably blow both of them out of the sockets. I’m guessing you wouldn’t have the skill to shoot my balls if they were hanging out, while I, on the other hand, know exactly what I’m doing. Do you really want to die for Eric Greerson?”

June suddenly understood why, though they had differing views, Sam and Aaron had a treaty.

The guards seemed to consider Aaron’s words. Sam looked impatient.

Finally, the guards dropped their guns and put their hands up, stony-faced and glaring.

“Good lackeys.” Aaron stuck his leg out, hooked one of the guns under the heel of his leather loafer, and drew the weapon toward him. He toed the gun out of the elevator and kicked it away.

Sam stepped in and picked up the other one.

“We’re not the only ones in the building,” the white guard said. “You’re gonna be in trouble, real soon.”

“Why don’t you come out of there now?” Aaron said.

The men hesitated but, after a moment, cautiously stepped out, hands still up.

“You won’t get away with this,” the black guard said. “This whole place is on lockdown right now. You won’t get anywhere.”

“How’d we get in, then?” Sam asked.

June flinched as Sam and Aaron swiftly stepped around them and brought the butts of their guns down on the back of the guard’s necks, nearly in tandem. Both men dropped to the floor in a heap, the white one twitching. Aaron slid forward and stopped the doors from closing again.

“Why don’t I ever get to shoot anyone?” Sam grumped.

“Killing is the Institute’s job.” Aaron moved into the elevator and hit a button. The doors stayed open. He set his gun down and started pulling the tape off Muse’s mouth.

Sam strolled in behind Aaron, gun on his shoulder, and stopped in front of June.

“That’s a good look for you.” Sam poked the ball of the gag.

June frothed at him.

“Hold on, hold on.” He smiled lasciviously. “I need to capture this moment.”

June snarled behind the gag and jerked at her cuffs.

“Sam, get her out of her restraints.” Aaron unwound the tape from Muse’s hair.

“I knew coming here with you was going to be no fun.” Sam set his gun down, propping the weapon against the wall of the elevator, and started undoing the gag behind June’s head. When the ball popped out, a gush of saliva followed and plopped quite satisfactorily on Sam’s shoe.

June worked her jaw. “Holy
deus ex machina
.” Her words were slurred. “Where the hell did you two come from?”

Sam turned her around. The sound of metal on metal, like a knife being removed from a sheath, and Sam slipped something under the chain of the cuffs and started jerking.

“Don’t call me God yet,” he said. “Save that for later.”

“I don’t know how much I’m enjoying being rescued by the pervert squad,” June said.

“Would you like us to leave so you can take care of your own fate?” Aaron asked. He’d gotten the tape off Muse’s mouth.

Muse’s lips were swollen and red. She stared at her father. “Where
did
you come from?” she asked.

The chain on the cuffs broke. June brought her arms around in front of her, teeth gritted. Her shoulders and biceps burned, and her fingers were numb. She turned around and glowered at Sam. He was holding a huge serrated hunting knife. He twirled it, and walked over to free Jason.

“I got a phone call a couple hours ago,” Aaron said. “Who knew baiting Eric Greerson into a press conference was a bad idea?”

“I’ve always overlooked that bastard.” Sam started taking off Jason’s gag.

“I haven’t.” Aaron turned Muse around and undid the tape on her hands. “I always suspected he was shady. I wouldn’t have cared that the Paranormal Alliance got themselves in a bind except”—Muse turned back around—“Sam told me they took you.”

“Nothing went as planned,” Muse said.

“Obviously,” Aaron replied.

“Cindy saw them throw you guys in the van,” Sam said. “So I called up Aaron, we got some guns”—he turned Jason around to cut off the cuffs—“and boom. We came on over.”

“You just walked into the Institute?” June asked. “I almost died trying to get away from here, and you’re telling me you strolled in the front door?”

“Yes,” Aaron said.

June looked between them, baffled.

The chain broke on Jason’s cuffs. Sam stepped back and slid the knife into a sheath on his hip. Aaron gestured to him, as if expecting him to answer June’s question.

Sam sighed dramatically and tilted his head back. “There’s this rumor going around that I don’t actually have paranormal powers.” He lifted his hands. “That I’m a false king.”

Aaron rolled his eyes.

“The reason people think I don’t have abilities,” Sam said, “is because they’ve never seen me use them. I’m a shapeshifter.”

“A shapeshifter?” June asked.

“A glamour generator,” Aaron said.

“
Shapeshifter
,” Sam said. “I can make people see me as something else, some
one
else.”

“Using a glamour,” Aaron pointed out.

“I can extend it”—Sam raised his voice—“to someone else, as long as I have physical contact with them.”

“So we looked like security guards,” Aaron said. “A couple of really close, glued-at-the-hip security guards, but regardless, it got us in. The goon was right. The place is on lockdown. Eric is paranoid.”

“We did some eavesdropping and found out where they were keeping you,” Sam said. “We were on our way up when we were told they were bringing you down and to report to the Special Projects Department. Figured we’d head them off at the pass.”

“There’s a little problem, though,” Aaron said. “I’m sure by now they’ve realized you’re not on your way anymore.”

“Which means we’ve got a very fast-closing window to get out of here,” Sam said.

“Jesus.” June was trying to wrap her head around everything. “This day has definitely been a lesson in not taking things at face value.”

Aaron and Sam picked up their guns.

“Hang on kids,” Aaron said. “This is about to get ugly.”

Aaron pressed a button and the doors closed.

June stepped forward. “Wait!”

Aaron looked around at her, hand poised to press the button that would set them in motion.

“We can’t leave yet.” Adrenaline surged through her limbs. “We have to go back up.”

“Up is not out,” Aaron said.

“They have Micha Bellevue,” she said. “On the thirty-third floor.”

Muse swallowed and stepped toward her father, the corner of her eye twitching.

“The serum Sam and I have been telling you about is real,” Muse said. “They injected Micha with it. Eric is doing the experiment.”

Sam widened his eyes at her.

“We don’t have time to—” Aaron began.

“We can’t leave him.” June looked at Sam. “He’s an innocent victim. He doesn’t deserve this, he doesn’t deserve to die at their hands. We have to help him. I thought you wanted to crush the Institute? Stop them. Stop what they’re doing.”

Silence fell. June’s heart thudded in her ears. If Aaron wouldn’t go up, she’d go by herself.

“I thought you didn’t care about this war?” Sam said, gazing at her.

June tried to gather her courage. “That’s when I thought it had nothing to do with me.”

Sam tilted his chin up, his face smooth but stony. “Eric doesn’t care if they get away,” he said to Aaron. “But if we leave Micha here, he wins for sure. We may have different ideals, Aaron, but we have a common enemy. And this is our chance to cripple him.”

They were all staring at Aaron, Jason too. Aaron drew a breath through his nose.

“Well”—his expression was grim—“I hope this is a good day to die. You’re always itching for a fight, Sam. Something tells me you’re about to get it.” He turned to the buttons, lifted a hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, hit thirty-three.

The elevator lurched into motion. June stepped back, next to Muse, and sought out her hand between them. June squeezed her fingers, and Muse clutched her hand in return.

“Don’t worry,” June said. “No more innocent people are going to suffer.”

“I don’t know about that,” Sam murmured.

When the doors opened on the thirty-third floor, Sam and Aaron had their guns raised, shielding the rest of them. The hallway beyond was empty. The two quickly exited the elevator and checked the surrounding area.

June turned to Jason.

“Stay here,” she told him. “Engage the emergency stop. Keep the doors closed. You’re too weak to go with us.”

“June,” he said hoarsely.

“Who has a watch, a cell phone, anything that tells the time?” June asked.

Sam and Aaron were standing outside the doors, Sam keeping them open with his foot.

“I do.” Aaron lifted his arm. A silver watch with a round black face gleamed on his wrist.

“Give it to me,” June said.

Aaron took the watch off without hesitation, despite the fact it probably cost more than all the ink on June’s body. He gave it to her, and she pressed the watch into Jason’s hands; they were cold and trembling.