Adam looked back at Abigail. “Can you quit mocking me for a minute and help me convince her to stay?”
Abigail shrugged. “Why would I waste my time doing that when I know very well that she goes with you?”
Talia controlled a smug smile.
“She—? What—?” Adam stammered. Then he turned to Talia. “Oh, hell. Come on.”
Zoe followed them down the stairs, shouting over the rising whine of a mournful melody as they neared the main floor of the building. “You can take my car if you want.”
“Good,” Adam said as he looked over his shoulder, beyond Talia. He didn’t want to attempt a reverse trek through the sewer, nor did he feel comfortable with an open stroll up the five blocks from his current location to the loft’s building, especially with Talia’s distinctive looks.
Zoe passed off the keys and directed them up the alley. Adam regarded Talia as they sprinted toward it. “You’ll do what I say, when I say it, or I’m not going anywhere. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” she croaked.
This was a bad idea, taking her back to a building infested with either wraiths or SPCI operatives, or both. She was supposed to heal so that she could call her father and end the war. It was beyond irresponsible of him to allow her to come on a fool’s errand.
As a realist, he knew he might lose Custo, his surrogate brother. He couldn’t lose Talia as well. Yet, he couldn’t very well risk her following after he’d left.
Zoe’s car was a beat-up blue hatchback Accord circa the midnineties. Adam ran around to the driver’s side and crouched to get into the car, his knees hitting the steering wheel. Talia was seated and belted before he managed to fold himself into a position in which he could drive.
The car smelled like burned plastic in spite of the scented cartoon character dangly thing hanging from the rearview mirror. Random papers and debris littered the backseat. At least the car had a manual transmission.
Fiercely missing his Diablo, Adam slammed the Accord into first gear and accelerated down the alley at a crap seven mph. The car brayed when he floored the gas, but got him up to twenty by the mouth of the alley. He’d buy Zoe another car if he killed this one. Hell, he’d buy her another car if he survived the day.
Traffic was thickening with the start of the morning rush. A fleet of taxis jockeyed for position, blocking the intersection. Adam took the car onto the sidewalk with an ear-bracing scrape of the undercarriage, maneuvered around the cars to the angry shouts of their drivers, and ran the light to turn onto his building’s street.
“There,” Talia said, startling him. He hit the brakes.
“What?” The street had no pedestrians, only a line of parked cars.
“The red sedan. It’s what Custo was driving.” The red sedan was illegally parked directly across the street from Adam’s building. Adam pulled up alongside, stopping the Accord in the middle of the street, and hopped out.
“Get out,” Adam barked. He met her at the tail end of the car, grabbed her hand, and pulled her across the street. With his right hand, he drew his gun.
“We have to assume that whoever attacked the loft knows we’re here. They’d be watching the street. They’ll be waiting.”
Talia nodded. Her face was ash white. Scared, but not shaking. Not retreating into her shadows. She’d come a long way from that alley in Arizona.
“This is your last chance, Talia. You could make it back to that club. They’ll hide you. You could be safe there.” Why had he trusted Abigail’s word anyway? Just because she seemed to know everything didn’t mean she actually did.
Talia shook her head once, sharply. No.
He raised his hand to the keypad, but a suffocating pressure built in his chest. He turned to her, grabbing her shoulders and abandoning all dignity to plead, “Please, go back. I can’t let you in there. Not even for Custo. I just can’t. I won’t deliver you into their hands. Will you go back to the club? Will you go back for me?”
“I’m going inside that building for you,” she said in a jagged whisper, but whether it was because of emotion or her injury, he couldn’t tell.
“Damn it, Talia. I should never have had sex with you. I told you that we couldn’t have a ‘you and me’ right now.” He released her abruptly, shoving her away from the door. “Don’t lose the war because of some sentimental attachment you have formed in a stressful situation.”
Talia stepped forward again. Her black eyes glinted dangerously. “I choose my own battles, not you. Don’t make me try to find a way inside on my own. It will only cost Custo time.”
She waved him back to the keypad.
Damn it. Abigail was right: Talia was determined to follow. He should’ve tied her down somewhere. Too late now. Too late for everything now.
He coded inside. The small lobby was empty. “Stairs or elevator?”
“Elevator’s faster,” Talia answered.
Fine. He sheltered her body as he punched the pad at the elevator. The metal door slid open.