Rory pushed his way in front of Gabby and bore down on the two red-capped Alliance. “My cousin isnae a traitor. He took the angel blood, but wi’ it, we made a net that can stop Axia.”
Hans snorted on a laugh. “A net to stop an angel? Spare us, Quinn. You’ll be going to Rome with your cousin for your part in this.” Hans made a rolling gesture with his hand and the two Roman Alliance advanced on Rory.
Gabby could have sworn that his hands had been empty a moment before, but silver now glinted in Rory’s closed fists. “Keep yer distance or lose important appendages.”
The two Alliance stopped, though they didn’t retreat.
“But what he says is true,” Gabby said. “The net is hollow tubing filled with angel blood, and angel blood bonds to itself like two magnets.” It was a poor rendition of the calm and convincing explanation Hugh had supplied her. “If the net comes into contact with Axia, it will seal to her and trap her, and for heaven’s sake, look out the window! She’s here, and you need this net. It can stop her!”
Even as the words left her mouth, Gabby heard them for what they were: desperate and fantastic. She didn’t blame Hans for scoffing, or the other Alliance members for slanting their brows. None of them looked in any way impressed by what she’d said. In the curtained hallway, the red-caped man continued to stare evenly at her, his hands resting on the handles of his swords at each hip.
“Did you exhaust all of the angelic blood on this … net of yours?” the man asked. His rich baritone carried well.
“All of it? No,” she answered. “But that’s not the point—”
“Where are the reserves?” he interjected.
“She isn’t going to tell you, Hathaway!” Nolan shouted from his room.
Was this the Directorate representative? One of the men who had declared her sister’s life inconsequential? If so, then no, she wouldn’t tell him—not unless it could buy her something in return.
“Wait,” she said.
“Gabby …” Nolan drew out the last syllable of her name as if in warning.
She disregarded him. “I’ll tell you.”
Rory looked sharply at her. She kept her gaze on Hathaway.
“No, you won’t,” Nolan called.
“I’ll take you to the angel blood myself,” she went on.
“No. You. Won’t.”
Gabby ignored him. “I’ll take you to the blood after I take you to the net and you see it for yourself.”
“Burke, do something useful and gag her,” Nolan commanded. His disembodied voice earned a bored sigh from Vander, who was checking the bandage underneath his shredded shirt.
“Sorry. One claw wound per day is my limit,” Vander replied, wincing.
“Very well,” Hathaway said to her. “Take us.”
He stepped forward. Gabby crossed her arms. “Release Nolan first.”
“Yes,” Nolan called. “Release Nolan. His hands were bound too tightly and he can no longer feel them.”
Hathaway stopped, his expression unreadable. “Simply seeing the net will not prove its worth.”
Gabby snatched at the opening. “Then help us find Axia so we can prove that it works.”
“And then the angel blood?” Hathaway prompted.
Gabby thought of the two pints of her sister’s blood left over from the making of the net. She wished there had been time for Hugh and his assistants to create more angelic diffuser nets. She trusted him with the remainder of the blood, though. Hugh hadn’t had the covetous gleam in his eyes this Directorate representative had. She didn’t know what the highest-ranking officials within the Alliance wanted the blood for—to control the Dispossessed, the way Vander and Nolan had theorized? She couldn’t see that far into the future. She could only see that it was her sole leverage.
“Is yours,” she answered Hathaway.
“Betray me, Miss Waverly, and the fact that you are not Alliance won’t impede me from tossing you into our reformatory.”
He snapped his fingers and a Roman Alliance member disappeared inside Nolan’s curtained room. Neither Rory nor Vander showed or said what they thought of her bargain. However, when Nolan stepped through the curtains and stalked down the hallway, nudging past Hathaway with an intentional shove into his shoulder, she saw his thoughts clearly.
If a glare could have strangled someone, his would have wrapped around Gabby’s throat and squeezed. He rubbed his wrists where the binding rope had left red lines. He came to a stop directly in front of her.
“We’ll discuss your bargaining skills later,” he muttered.
“I just had you freed, Nolan Quinn. You could at least thank me.”
His mouth twisted with what was no doubt a suppressed sarcastic retort. Nolan stepped closer, the tips of his boots coming toe to toe with hers. He inclined his head and lowered his voice.
“Some things should be done in private,” he said, allowing a moment for Gabby’s cheeks to heat before dashing her with a bucket of cold water. “Murder, for example.”
Gabby narrowed her eyes on him as Nadia rose from her relaxed position on the sofa.
“How do we get Axia to show herself to us?”