“What’s the message?” Theo asked.
“‘You won’t make it to the garage without hitting cops. Go up to Suite 1255. It’s being repainted but nobody will touch it until Monday. Hide in there until things quiet down.’”
She pushed the cancel button until the lobby light went dark, then reset their course for the top floor.
David shook his head. “I don’t like this. In a matter of hours, this place will be crawling with Deps. They have ghost drills. They’ll track us.”
Amanda felt ill at the thought of federal agents watching a spectral reenactment of her balcony attack. If that didn’t put her on their Ten Most Wanted list, nothing would.
“They need warrants to use ghost drills on private property,” Mia told him. “We have at least forty-eight hours before they start.”
“Yes, I read the same book you did. The law could have changed since that was written.”
“David, why would I send that note from the future if the plan didn’t work?”
“Because there’s more than one future! Why haven’t you figured that out yet?”
Mia looked to David with wide-eyed hurt. He lowered his head.
“Let’s just go there,” Zack said, through a pained wince. “At least until Hannah wakes up.”
They scanned the hall for witnesses, then made a run for Suite 1255. In Zack’s impaired condition, it took him four tries to reverse the door lock.
Their new hideout was just a quarter the size of the Baronessa Suite, with only two beds and one bathroom. Half the furniture had been stowed in a bedroom while the other half was covered in spattered sheets.
The smell of new paint made Amanda light-headed. She wobbled toward Theo.
“Put her down on the couch. I need to check her head. Mia, get me some hand towels from the bathroom. Soak one in cold water.”
David held her arm. “I think you need to rest.”
“Someone has to sneak out to a pharmacy. I’ll make a list. We need bandages . . . We need . . .”
Amanda’s eyelids fluttered. Her legs turned to jelly. David caught her in mid-faint.
—
She woke up in bed, grimacing. An awful taste filled her mouth, like cardboard dipped in sour milk. She touched her forehead, surprised to feel adhesive bandages over her cuts.
Hannah lay unconscious on the other side of the bed. Someone had wrapped a long gauze strip around her skull, securing a folded towel to the back of her head.
Mia watched her from the doorway. “You all right?”
Amanda dazedly blinked at her. “How long was I out?”
“A while. It’s almost four o’clock now.”
“Did you do the bandages?”
“Yeah. I hope they’re okay.”
“They’re fine. Who got the supplies?”
“David. He was careful. He brought back a little food too, if you feel like eating.”
The thought made Amanda queasy. She tested Hannah’s vitals. “If she doesn’t wake up soon, I’m taking her to a hospital.”
“You know you can’t do that.”
“I’m not going to lose her.”
“You’ll lose her to the Deps if you take her to a hospital. You’ll never see her again.”
Amanda pressed her palms to her bleary face. Mia hesitated before throwing the next issue at her.
“Listen, I only gave Zack an epallay. I wasn’t sure how to do the rest.”
“What do you mean? I thought he was okay.”
Mia sighed, focusing hard on the Amanda who saved Zack and not the one who hurt him.
“I think you should go see him.”
—
The second bedroom was a miniature labyrinth of stacked wooden furniture. In the center of the maze was a full-size bed, in the center of the bed was a stretched-out man, and in the center of the man was a cruel and jagged problem.
Zack bit his lower lip, swallowing his cries while Amanda tested each rib for damage.
“This one?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. Hold still.”
Mia sat on a dresser, feeling more and more like a voyeur as she watched Amanda place adhesive tape on Zack’s chest. There was something uncomfortably sensual about the way Amanda touched Zack’s shoulder whenever she reached for a new strand, the way he stared at her neck as she worked on him. Once Mia felt sufficiently educated about the treatment process, she left the bedroom and closed the door behind her.
Amanda ran a taut finger along another rib. “This one?”
“No.”
“You sure it doesn’t hurt?”
“I have no reason to lie about it.”
“You also have no reason to act macho around me.”
“I think the last thing either of us needs today—”
He sucked a sharp breath when she found the next cracked rib. Amanda peeled a new strip of tape. Her mouth quivered in tight suppression.
“Can you please just yell at me a little bit so I feel less awful?”
“I told you—”
“I know. I was drugged. I wasn’t responsible. Everyone keeps saying that. But be honest. Would you accept that excuse if you had rifted me today?”