Pain and regret played over her features. Indecision.
But that’s all it took. River looked at her and then had to do a double take.
He shook his head and said, “No. It’s not true. Tell me it’s not true.”
Her resistance crumbled. “I did it for you. You remember how, a year ago, they were closing in, and you were a major target. They wanted to take you out and almost succeeded. So I went to them. Told them I’d give them information in exchange for your life. They agreed. And they kept their promise, Riv.” Her expression was so hopeful, begging him to say she’d made the right decision. “You haven’t been injured in all this time.”
“No. No!” River stumbled back, as if he’d just received a major blow. “That’s impossible. You know our rules. You know what we do to traitors.”
What did they do?
Camilla fisted his shirt. “I did it for you,” she repeated. “For us. You’re all I’ve got.”
“We have friends,” he spat. “Kids we’re supposed to protect, who are dependent on us. Helping Anima puts them in danger.”
“But keeps you safe,” she screeched. “Why can’t you understand that?”
River scrubbed a hand down his face. His dark eyes were glassy, his breathing labored. “Did you know what was going to happen tonight?”
She gulped, licked her lips. “N-not all of it.”
He laughed without humor. “And rather than warning us, helping us organize a counterattack, you led us straight to a slaughter.”
“They just wanted her. Once they had her, the attacks were going to stop.”
He gave another shake of his head. “Ali’s right. You’ve made a fool of me. But they’ve made a fool of you. Now you’ll pay for it.” He palmed a SIG and aimed the barrel at her chest.
Horrified gasps rang out.
Camilla’s jaw dropped. “Riv, you can’t be serious. You can’t mean to kill me. I’m your sister.”
She stepped back, but Chance blocked her way, refusing to budge. In fact, he grabbed her by the arms and held her in place. Making her the perfect bull’s-eye.
They were going to kill her. Effective, but unnecessary. Despite my anger, I didn’t want her death on my conscience.
And, despite everything, neither did River. He couldn’t see that now, but one day, he would. “Wait,” I said. “I can take away her memories.”
I became the center of attention.
I ignored everyone but River and said, “I can. Like I did with the doctor. She won’t remember who she is, or who you are, but she won’t remember Anima, either.”
Hope blazed, then anger, and I figured River was considering the pros and cons of both actions. Death versus erasure.
Ultimately, he nodded. “Do it.”
“What?” Camilla spluttered. She struggled as I closed in, and she might have escaped, if Chance hadn’t placed her in a choke hold. Not squeezing hard enough to knock her out, but just enough to make her still. “Riv, you can’t let her do this to me. Please.”
He turned his back, but not before I saw the tear trickle down his cheek.
My knees knocked together. I fit my hands at her temples, my chest throbbing. Today’s life lesson? One bad decision could mean a lifetime of consequences. “It didn’t have to be this way,” I said and closed my eyes.
Chapter 27
FOREVER IS A
SINGLE SECOND
The rest of the night passed in a daze, and I came to awareness only for the highlights—and only because Cole shared his fire with me, patching any leaks, strengthening me.
It took a toll on him; he’d absorbed some of my weakness. I owed him. Big-time.
We escorted Wren and Poppy home. They were scratched up and bruised, but otherwise okay, babbling about how we’d each seemed to freeze in place.
They hadn’t seen the zombies, or our spirits, and when Cole had tried to explain, they’d both shut down. It was too much to compute.
Tomorrow, after they’d rested, they’d either convince themselves we were crazy or accept the truth. There were no other options.
A despondent River and seemingly unaffected Chance returned to their home with Camilla. The erase had proved successful, and she was now a blank slate. It was sad, really. She’d done everything in her power to save her brother, but because she’d done it the wrong way, she’d lost him anyway.
On the way back to the mansion, Cole received a text from his dad with a possible location for Justin.
Even though we were tired, and ragged, and pretty much beaten to a pulp, we changed directions and drove so fast I’m sure we broke sound barriers. I said a quick prayer for safety.
As I said “Amen,” red and blue lights flashed behind our vehicle.
Tense, Cole eased to the shoulder of the road and stopped. The sun was in the process of rising, casting muted rays of gold, and I wasn’t surprised to see Detective Verra illuminated as she approached the driver-side window.
“Where you guys off to in such a hurry?” she asked.