I moaned, collapsing and pretending to sink into a state of unconsciousness.
“Take my father’s spirit to the special cage I had made, then take his body to the cooler,” Ms. Smith commanded. I think she pressed a button. “I want the girl restrained.”
She and Hodad returned to their conversation. I ignored them, listening for the telltale click of the lock, nearing footsteps...
There. My cue.
On your mark...
The guard toed me over. Get set.
He scooped me up in his arms. Go!
I grabbed his weapon, sliding off the safety as I shoved the barrel against his chest. A simple squeeze of the trigger, and his heart was shredded. He gasped as he toppled, taking me with him.
Hodad got with the program real quick and raced for the cage door, slamming it shut to keep me inside.
Mistake.
I raised the gun, squeezed the trigger again. Click. A bullet jammed. I quickly cocked, heard the problem shell drop to the ground. Hodad was now racing toward the exit, Ms. Smith to the counter at the right, shoving papers and pens to the floor as she searched for...what? A weapon?
I fired a shot in her direction, but she ducked. A miss!
Gritting my teeth, I aimed at Hodad, who was just about to fly through the door.
Boom! A bullet to the brain. He collapsed against the door, shutting it.
A sense of victory. One down, one to go.
Ms. Smith was crouched, keeping the counter between her and one of my bullets, while aiming a semiautomatic at me. Her grip was steady, reminding me that she was a former slayer. Battles to the death were part of her business.
“Do it,” I said, smiling coldly, keeping my barrel trained in her direction. Was the room soundproofed? Unmonitored? Must be. No one came running in to protect her.
“Put down your weapon,” she commanded.
“How about...not.”
“I’ll do it,” she screeched. “I’ll kill you, I swear I will.”
“No, you won’t. We both know you’ve spent too much money, wasted too many resources on getting me here.”
I reached around the front of the cage and disengaged the lock.
She peeked out. Her eyes widened as I stepped free. “How did you do that?”
“Magic fingers. Need proof? Watch this.” I shot the gun out of her hand.
She screamed as it went flying across the room. I fired off another shot, this one destined for her brain. She rolled out of the way.
Click. And now I was out of bullets.
Okay, then. We’d do this the old-fashioned way.
The thought kind of gave me a case of the happies.
I stalked across the room. Her hand bled as she backed away. The moment she was within reach, I swung my arm. She blocked my pistol-whip with her forearm and punched me in the sternum, as if to stop my heart. Maybe she did. I lost my breath, hunched over, and she kneed me in the jaw. Stars twinkled as I propelled backward.
She pursued me to the floor, tried to pin me. But I still held the gun and swung at her. The butt of the weapon crashed against her temple. She moaned and went lax. I flipped her to her back and straddled her. Hammered the butt of the gun at her temple, but she blocked. I tried again, and she blocked that, too. She bucked, dislodging me, and I had to catch myself with my hands to prevent a face-plant, losing my grip on the weapon.
She unleashed another solid strike to my sternum. Uncaring about the pain, I grabbed one of the fallen pens and aimed for her carotid. But again, she blocked. The tip sank into her forearm, slicing through muscle, hitting bone. Her scream echoed from the walls. I was able to settle back on my haunches, grab her injured arm and punch the pen, sending it deeper, all the way through.
Another scream bowed her back.
The perfect position, I thought with a grin. Watch Ali whale. Punch, punch, punch. Her face absorbed every hit, her uninjured arm pinned by my knees, unable to act as a shield. Punch, punch. But as I raised my fist to go again, my wrist was shackled by a vise-grip and I was yanked to my feet.
The cavalry had arrived.
I struggled with all of my might, but the male was joined by another, and another, and both of my arms were captured, my legs lifted. Someone helped Ms. Smith to her feet. One of her eyes was already swollen shut, and there was a gash in her lower lip. She limped toward me.
“I’ll make you regret this,” she snarled. Then she flattened her hand against my temple.
I frowned, confused. She really thought that would hurt me? Then I felt five little spiders crawling around in my brain, and I knew. They weren’t spiders. They were fingers. She planned to cover my memories.
“Stop! Just stop! Don’t do this! We can—”
I...had no idea where I was. I stilled, blinked. Why was there a battered woman in front of me? Why were men holding me?
“There, that’s better,” the woman said.
Who was she? I couldn’t remember. Couldn’t remember anything. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. “Where am I? What’s going on?”
She smiled without humor. “Don’t worry. I’ll get patched up and explain everything.”
Chapter 31
WHEN TWO
MINDS COLLIDE