Even my voice sounded steady. Bones would be so proud.
“Is that so?” Don stood and nodded to Tate Bradley. “Sergeant, I’m about to give you a direct order. Carry it out at once. Shoot Miss Crawfield in the head, right between the eyes.”
Whoa. I sprang off the bed and tore the metal bed rail from its welded perch, swinging it at the hand that raised the gun at me. There was a crack of broken bones. In the same smooth motion, I kneecapped Don while ripping the gun out of Bradley’s hand and holding it firmly to his head.
“I am so sick of being shot, and someone should tell you guys to have a little more respect for hospitals!”
Don, face first on the floor, pushed slowly over to look up at me. The expression on his face was pure satisfaction.
“You’re just a normal girl and there’s no such thing as vampires, right? That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. You were only a blur. Tate didn’t even have time to aim.”
Tate Bradley’s heart pumped at an accelerated rhythm and the beginnings of fear leaked out of his pores. Somehow I knew being afraid wasn’t a normal condition for him.
“What do you want, Don?” So this was his little test, and I’d passed with flying colors.
“Will you please release Tate? You can keep the gun, not that you need it. Clearly you’re stronger without it than he was with it. Consider it a sign of goodwill.”
“What’s to stop me from making my own sign of goodwill through his brains?” Maliciously. “Or yours?”
“Because I have an offer you’ll want to hear. If I’m dead, it’s harder for me to talk.”
Well, score one for him for keeping calm in a crisis. Abruptly I released Bradley and shoved him across the room. He slipped and slid on the floor next to Don.
There was a knock at the door. “Sir, is everything all right in there?” The guard sounded worried, but he didn’t peer inside.
“Just fine. Keep your post, no visitors. Don’t open that door until you’re told.” Don’s voice was confident and strong, belying the flash of pain in his eyes from his knees.
“What if you’d been wrong? If GI Joe here had plugged a hole in my head? That would’ve been hard to explain.”
Don gave me an appraising look. “It was worth the risk. Ever believe in something enough to kill for it?”
It would be hypocritical for me to say no. “What’s your offer?”
Don sat up, wincing at his bent knees. “We want you, of course. You just ripped off a welded metal bar and disarmed a highly trained soldier while handcuffed to a bed, all in about a second. There’s no one alive who has that kind of speed, but there are many dead things that do. After seeing your work, it seems to me you aren’t averse to killing those things. Lots of them, in fact, but more will be looking for you now. Your anonymity is ruined. I can fix that. Oh, I knew Oliver was dirty, a lot of people did, but we couldn’t prove anything because every agent we sent to check him out never came back. You’re different. We’d be sending these creatures someone their own size to pick on, and all of these charges won’t matter because Catherine Crawfield will die, and you’ll be reborn into your new life. Given backing and troops. You’ll become one of the most prized weapons the U. S. government has to protect its citizens against dangers they can’t even imagine. Isn’t that what you were meant to do? Haven’t you always known it?”
Wow, he was good, and if Timmie were here, he’d feel absolutely vindicated. There really were men in black, and I’d just been offered a chance to join their ranks. I thought of the opportunity and the advantages, the exhilaration of starting a new life without fear of police or burying bodies or hiding my nature from those around me. Just six months ago, I would have tripped over myself to accept it.
“No.”
The single word hung in the room. Don blinked.
“Would you like to see your mother?”
He’d taken my refusal too easy. Something was up. Slowly, I nodded. “She’s here?”
“Yes, but we’ll bring her to you. They’ll never let you walk the hall swinging that bedrail. Tate, instruct the guard to have Ms. Crawfield wheeled down here. And ask for another wheelchair as well. My arthritis seems to be acting up.” With a glance of pained amusement, he looked down at his knees.
A slight twinge of guilt shot through me.
“You deserved it.”
“It was worth it, Catherine, to be proven right. Some things are worth the cost of their consequences.”
Thinking of Bones, I couldn’t agree more.