Immortally Embraced

chapter twelve




The lower half of Dr. Keller’s body faded in and out as he rooted through the debris on the nearest lab table. “I need a working burner plate,” he said, eyes wild. He found two flat, analog hot plates and sent them tumbling across the table. “These won’t plug in.”

Yes they would. The ghost just couldn’t grip them. He could only shove them.

Marc and I stood on the other side of the table, which was covered in yellowish sand that reeked of garlic. There was a metallic powder in there, too.

That animal part of me, the instinct that warned me of danger that I couldn’t possibly control, told me to run.

Now.

But there was nowhere to go. Our only way out was locked, and chained, courtesy of the old army.

Marc and I exchanged a glance. “Please tell me you have a brilliant idea.”

Dr. Keller swiped at the fluorescent lights above us, sending them crashing to the floor. Bulbs exploded around us.

Marc examined the chains on the doors. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

“How?” I asked. They were thick, wound through the door handles and locked on the other side.

A frigid wind tore at us, toppling the lab table. “You will not leave. You will stay and help me!”

“We brought scientists,” Marc hollered over the gale. “They’re right outside. We can work together.”

My hair whipped my face. What was he, nuts? A poltergeist could kill you. You didn’t want to lie and piss him off.

The ghost ripped the doors open. “Where?” he demanded.

“Now.” Marc grabbed my hand and we took off in a dead run down a narrow cinder-block hallway.

Holy mother. We were so dead.

The lights from the lab surged and crackled, illuminating the path in front of us like lightning strikes. The rest of the doors along the hallway were dark—abandoned, or at least closed for the night.

We ran hard. “Wait,” Marc said. We skidded to a stop as the hallway cornered off. He planted his back to the wall and snuck a glance ahead. I looked behind.

An electric storm poured from Dr. Keller’s lab. The doors hung drunkenly off their frames as the good doctor’s howl echoed off the cinder-block prison. But he hadn’t pursued us. Maybe he didn’t know how.

It was a wonder we didn’t have an entire squad on top of us. Then again, I wasn’t so sure I’d be running toward this place if I were in charge of security.

A purple cloud poured from the lab.

“Quickly,” Marc said.

We took a hard right around the corner and faced an even narrower hallway. Gaslights flickered above.

My stomach fluttered. I could get lost in here so easily. “How do we get out?”

“Quietly,” he said, our footsteps a whisper as we hurried down the corridor.

My breath sounded loud in my ears. Shadows danced off the walls. I tried to forget that we were underground.

It felt like some kind of macabre dungeon. “This place had to be creepy before the ghost.”

Marc huffed. “Welcome to my world. We’re on the lowest level. Three stories underground.”

Anxiety wormed through me. I felt both exposed and trapped at the same time. We could be discovered at any moment, yet we had no choice but to follow the elaborate underground network of tunnels.

We hurried past a series of gray-painted doors with the word CONTAINMENT written in red block letters.

I stiffened as I heard a shuffling on the other side.

Marc walked at my side, his hand on his gun. “They’re locked,” he said, as if that was supposed to make me feel better. “Almost everyone on this floor has gone home for the night.”

My palms began to sweat. “What about the other floors?”

He looked as uneasy as I felt. “We’ll have to play it by ear.”

He stopped in front of an unmarked gray door at the end of the hall. “Do you have a flashlight?”

I patted down my pants and jacket. “I think I dropped it.”

Marc cursed under his breath. “Mine’s gone, too.” He propped the door open, and I entered before him. Narrow industrial stairs circled up into the abyss.

The door closed behind us, leaving us in pitch blackness.

“At least we’ll know if someone’s coming,” he said, voice low.

“But you know where we are.” I felt for the metal banister, desperate for a little good news.

“Yes.”

We wound our way up in the darkness. One floor. Two.

Shouts echoed from another space. They were muffled, yet eerily close.

Marc exhaled, warming my neck. “They’re sending troops down the other staircase.”

And suddenly, the acuteness of our situation hit me once more. “They could have just as easily used this one.”

“We had a fifty–fifty shot.”

If they’d taken this one, we’d be dead. I tightened my grip on the banister and forced myself upward.

I was scared and tired. My body still ached from the fall down the vent, and I was starting to get out of breath from the stairs.

His hand closed over mine on the banister. “I never should have gotten you into this.”

“Don’t start,” I said, pulling my hand from under his. I didn’t need regrets. Not about this anyway.

We strained to see any light or movement above us, although I had no idea how we’d hide if a door suddenly opened or a lantern flipped on.

I might have been able to pass for a visiting doctor at the start of the night, but not after a trip through the vent, or after Dr. Keller’s smash-’em-up at the lab. I probably looked more like a berserker than a scientist.

“Stop,” Marc said.

We’d reached a landing. My hand closed around a smooth, cool door handle. No way would I open it without having some idea what was on the other side, but nevertheless I clung to it. It was as if I needed to know there was a way out of this.

Of course, even if we did make it back to solid ground, they still had a bioweapon that could wipe out the human race.

I remembered the prophecy. The peacekeeper will find love as a hideous new weapon is born.

Marc rested a hand on my back. “There are going to be guards along the main hallway. We can’t risk it. When I open the door, I’m going to make an immediate left into the clinic. Follow me.”

He opened the door slowly and I squinted against the bright light pouring in. Dirt smeared Marc’s cheeks and neck, and his hair spiked in all directions.

“Are we clear?” I asked.

He had his eyes on the hallway. “For now.”

“Then here.” I reached up to smooth his hair back.

With the corner of my sleeve, I wiped the dirt from his face. He closed his eyes as I brought the cloth to his chin and rubbed at the indent below his cheek.

I remembered how he’d groaned and shook as he took me this afternoon. That would be the final time I’d make love to him. This could be the last time I touched him at all.

My heart squeezed. I wasn’t ready for that.

What began as a defensive measure turned into a surprisingly intimate gesture.

“You want to fit in,” I said, my cheeks coloring. His uniform still looked good. More than good, in fact.

He looked at me for a long moment. There was so much we would never be able to say. “Petra—” he began, his voice raw with emotion.

“Yes,” I stilled, ready to be open to him, needing to hear what he had to say.

He paused, considered. And the moment was gone. “Keep your head down,” he told me.

“I will,” I said, sad, disappointed, and—I was ashamed to admit—relieved.

We exited into what could almost pass for a hospital hallway. With Marc in the lead, we hung a sharp left and passed through a set of double doors.

A nurse at the check-in desk stood. “Dr. Belanger, thank the gods.” From her pointed ears and silvery complexion, I could tell she was more than half fae. “We have a situation.”

She scooted out from behind our desk and followed us as Marc headed into some sort of underground ER. “There was a mining explosion on the front lines,” she said, chart in hand, “twenty-five casualties. Four immortal. Twenty-one mortal. They breathed in what we believe to be a toxic dust.”

It was like flipping a switch. I immediately channeled my fear and slammed into clinical mode.

“Let me see,” I said, grabbing for the chart.

“Who is this?” She yanked it back, as if she were noticing me for the first time.

“Kate Gordon,” I said quickly.

“Visiting from HQ,” Marc added.

“Sorry, Kate,” she said, the smooth skin between her eyebrows puckering as she took in my disheveled state. “This is classified. You’ll have to go back top.”

“Right.” Back top.

“Where you just were,” Marc added.

I had to admit the proposition was attractive.

“Security,” the nurse called. I reached for my gun and saw Marc do the same as two elite guard troops rushed us.

They wore the scythe insignia of Cronus the Titan. These were high-level guards, not lab lackeys. I wondered just what they were doing in a secret underground clinic.

“Escort her out,” the nurse ordered.

“Wait. I’d like to confer with Dr. Gordon on this.” Marc reached into a med cart and pulled on a pair of gloves. “Where are we on those patients?”

“The mortals are dead. The immortals are in surgery.”

He slowly removed the gloves. “So you don’t need me immediately.”

She flipped her blond hair from her shoulder. “I’d like to go over their charts,” she said defensively.

He tossed the gloves into the trash, not at all amused. “I intend to do just that. But first, I’ll escort my colleague out.”

The nurse frowned. “Just don’t escort her back to the woods,” she said under her breath.

“What?” I asked as Marc led me farther down the hallway. It looked like any other ER, except for the guards posted outside each room. And the two following us.

“The woods are a local hookup spot,” Marc gritted out.

Ah, so it seemed the nurse mistook my messy appearance.

“That was certainly in poor taste,” I said, loud enough for the guards to hear.

I much preferred Marc’s bed.

We hit the guard station outside the clinic. We were almost out. Which was usually when all hell broke loose.

Four guards blocked the double doors. Two manned the desk. Our escorts stopped behind us as we approached what looked like an airport metal detector.

“You first,” the guard at the other side said to me.

Great.

I didn’t know what they were testing for. Weapons? Had one. Toxic chemicals? Take your pick. Illegal items? I had a map of the armies tucked into my boot.

The vast desert night was just outside. I braced myself and stepped across the threshold.

An alarm blared.

F*ck.

“Stop.” The guard drew his sword.

I yanked Marius’s gun from my pocket, fell to my knees, and fired.

A blinding light shot out of the gun. The guard in front of me fell, along with the four behind him.

The energy aftershock knocked me to the ground. Marc dove next to me as I rolled and fired behind us.

The second shock hit, this one worse than the last as the energy bounced back at us. I buried my head against my shoulder, tasting metal and smoke.

“What the hell is that?” Marc barked, staring at Marius’s funny little spiderweb gun.

“You got me.” We both scrambled to stand.

We passed the six unconscious guards before Marc opened the sliding steel door that led out into the cemetery. “Go.”

“Wait,” I said as the frigid desert air whipped inside. “You’re not coming?”

He glanced back into the compound. “I can’t.”

“Do not start this sacrificial shit on me.” His life might not mean anything to him, but it did to me. “I’m tired of it.”

His green eyes bored into me. “Petra, I’m compromised.”

He was right. Numbness gripped me. “I should have taken out the security cameras.”

His jaw was tight. “This is the old army,” he said, resigned, “they don’t have any. But they know I was with you.” He gripped me by the shoulders, willed me to focus. “You’re going to have to shoot me.”

“What?” He was crazy. “I have no idea what this thing does.” Marius had said it was a disruptor, but I didn’t know if it left people wounded or dead or worse.

“Hurry,” he said, not giving me an inch. “The guards are starting to come around.”

That was actually good. I didn’t want this weapon to kill, not if I was going to shoot Marc. I clutched the disruptor, unsure. “The guards are demi-gods.” What if they could survive and Marc couldn’t? Even if I shot him in the leg, he’d get the full burst of energy.

“Petra.” His face was grave. “I’m dead if you don’t do this.”

I didn’t know if I could do it. I’d thought he was dead for the last ten years. It had nearly killed me and I hadn’t even been the one to pull the trigger.

My mind raced, desperate for a different way out of this. “They don’t know that you know that I’m a spy.”

“This is the old army,” he said, resigned, “they’d kill me just to be sure.”

Tears sprang to my eyes. “I’m so sorry I got you into this.” I should have known I’d trigger an alarm. I should have insisted we find a different way out.

“Don’t start,” he said, mimicking my tone from the stairwell. He grew serious. “I’m glad I got to see you,” he said, touching the back of my neck, “I’m glad I got to be with you, even if I should have just let you go.”

He kissed me. It was hard and desperate and full of the things we had never said. That we’d never have a chance to share.

I clung to him, not wanting this. Damn it. I didn’t want to face this.

He stepped away, looking more handsome and strong and determined than I’d ever seen him before. “Do it.”

It was wrong. I was so sick of him being the one to take the fall.

I drew back as far as I dared, to the edge of the doors, until I stepped out to where the path outside met the coarse dirt of the cemetery.

Marc’s eyes never left me. “Now, Petra.”

I pulled the trigger.

The blast of light hit him straight in the chest. Horrified, I watched him topple forward and fall to the floor.