Thank fucking God.
Raynor was lying. Unless he’d rolled Stefan over in his sleep to shoot him, that whole story was, as Saul would say, bullshit with a side order of day-old crap for flavor. The story didn’t matter, though. I would’ve known he was lying without it. He’d taken psychology classes with the best and the brightest of the CIA, but he was just a human. Institute training trumped CIA training and chimera trumped human. The most minute of facial expressions, pupil dilation, the heart rate I could sense speeding up slightly . . . I didn’t care. I didn’t care how I knew, only that I did know. My brother was alive. Through sheer luck or Raynor’s need to make his escape with me quickly, Stefan was alive.
No thanks to me.
I’d thought I’d known best. I’d thought I was doing him a favor by helping him rest. I should’ve thought I was a dangerous idiot with the skills and a lifetime of training but not the experience, because that was what I was. The glass was cool under my forehead and I closed my eyes. But now Stefan would wake up and I would be gone. He’d search for me, but Raynor had proved, for a human, he was a formidable and cunning opponent. I had no idea how Stefan could hope to find me now. That might kill him the same as Raynor’s imaginary bullets. And it would be my fault the same as if there had been a gun and I’d been the one pulling the trigger. I had done this to my brother. Raynor didn’t matter. It had been me.
If I lived at all, how was I going to live with that?
There was a stirring in my jacket pocket and I slivered my eyes to see Godzilla poke his nose out. He knew danger when he smelled it and had obviously stayed hidden while Raynor wrestled me into his car. I gave a low hiss of warning, inaudible except to ferret ears, and he instantly disappeared back into my pocket. If Raynor found him . . . I didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t want to think about my failures, my screwups, my fuckups. I didn’t want to think about anything right then.
I didn’t get my wish. Big surprise.
“Ah, don’t be like that. It’ll make for a boring trip. We’ve had the Institute, which can be rebuilt as we have the day care to supply it. But you—you and the others are a problem we haven’t faced before. Therefore, a new place shall be created for you and them—what should we call it? Probation? Detention?—where naughty little assassins are taught their rightful place.” Raynor’s gravelly voice was far too cheerful for me.
“But you look down in the mouth at that news.” He tsked, the sound odd through the trach valve. “I know—let’s bring your friend up. You’ll have company. That’ll put the pink in your cheeks. You might work up the curiosity to ask me precisely what they’ll do to you when I have the probationary program fully staffed. I hate it when I concoct devious plans and no one can be bothered to ask me about them. My ego becomes quite bruised. Since I’m going to stop, are you sure you don’t want some Tylenol for that formerly fractured head of yours?”
“No, thanks,” I said without any emotion he’d be able to detect. “I’m not deficient. I’m not weak.”
“Like me, you mean?” The car had pulled over into what had once been a rest stop. It was now a deserted, crumbling place except for us. “I suppose I should be offended by that, on my behalf and on humanity’s behalf as well, but, Michael. . . .” He put the car in park and smiled at me. It was full of gloat and triumph. “This deficient human has certainly put you in your place, now haven’t I?” He opened the driver door, but paused to gift me with a last few words before exiting. “Your place in the grand scheme of things is slave, chimera. An obedient, servile slave and I’ll make damn sure you never forget that again.”
He slammed the door behind him. I didn’t bother to think about being a slave again, because I’d die before that happened. I did think about what he meant by bringing my friend up. What friend? Saul?
I heard the thump of the trunk, muffled sounds of outrage, and then the other door to the backseat was flung open. I saw pale skin, a flash of long legs under a short purple, blue, and green filmy skirt, lavender sandals that had ties that crisscrossed up the calf to tie in a neat bow just under the knees, and toenails painted pink—cotton candy pink.
The same as the girl’s hair.