The Gender Plan (The Gender Game #6)

“I’m starting to reconsider that wish,” I growled.

Ms. Dale shrugged. I’d rarely seen her this visibly angry, her posture rigid and her teeth clenched. “Too bad.”

Violet shifted in my arms and put her face against my chest. “Viggo?”

“Yes?”

“Let’s get out of here, please. Desmond was on the handheld earlier—calling reinforcements. We need to go.”

“Of course, baby,” I said, everything falling away except my need to get her back to safety as quickly as possible.

That seemed to be all Violet needed to hear in order to let go completely. She sagged in my arms then, and I gently took hold of her knees and pulled her up to my chest, supporting her weight with both my arms. Ms. Dale studied us for a moment, her eyes reflecting her concern. “Is she all right?” she asked, taking a step closer without letting her weapon lose its bead on Desmond.

Violet’s eyes were closed now, her breathing deep and even. I looked up at Ms. Dale and shook my head, baffled. “She just… fell asleep.”

Ms. Dale frowned and took a step closer, using one hand to peel back Violet’s eyes. Violet murmured something, her left hand coming up to bat Ms. Dale’s hand away before nestling in closer to me. “She’s exhausted. Whatever happened in there must’ve been a very draining experience for her physically.”

I clutched her tighter. “It was definitely mental as well. Her eyes were all right, though?” I murmured, remembering how Violet had seemed… well, sort of all right after the palace, but had slowly started to slip away as we watched, her mind becoming more and more fractured as blood had pressed into her brain.

Ms. Dale responded with her eyes back on Desmond. “Her pupils were responsive, and she woke up when I began to probe her. It’s physical, for sure. Probably overexerted herself. We’ll have Dr. Tierney take a look when we get back, but I think she’s fine.”

The breath I had been holding came out in a slow huff, and I nodded. “Great. Let’s get out of here—one of us will have to take Owen’s vehicle, and we’ll have to load up the guys.”

Tsking under her breath, Ms. Dale whirled and stalked away, back toward the car. She came to a halt right in front of the driver-side door, seemingly torn. After a moment, she whirled back and moved up to me. “Desmond better go in your car,” she warned. “Because if I take her in Owen’s, she won’t get back to base alive.”

Turning, I took a look at the other two cars in the drive. One I recognized as Ashabee’s, but the other clearly belonged to Desmond. “How long do you think we have?”

Ms. Dale checked her watch, frowning. “Before this place is crawling? Hard to say. Why?”

“I’m just wondering if you think Desmond put a bug in Owen’s car, just in case. Or if…” I paused. “If she’s had a tracker installed in her body.”

“She would. Ugh, all these complications.” Ms. Dale curled her lips in distaste as she considered the thought. “Best not to risk it, of course… We’ll have Thomas meet us somewhere and let him do a sweep. We can use both his device and the one that Dr. Arlan uses.”

“All right. Can you make sure Tim and Owen are okay? I gotta get Violet loaded, and make sure our newest prisoner is tied up.”

Ms. Dale’s mouth flattened into a line of disapproval, but she nodded. “I might need your help with Owen. And Tim, actually. They’re a bit too big for me to handle.”

I opened my mouth to say that Violet had done it while injured, but I didn’t really want to argue with Ms. Dale in her current state of mind. Besides, it would be easy for me to move them—no need to make the older woman force herself into uncomfortable physical labor. “I gotcha. Just drive the car over there and watch them, and I’ll be with you in a minute.” Ms. Dale nodded and jogged off. Owen would’ve left the keys in the car—he usually insisted upon it as a security measure, in case one person on a mission died and the other needed to get away.

My gut churned when I thought of Owen. I wasn’t even sure what to say to him at this point. Half of me wanted to hit him hard enough to knock some sense into him. Another part of me softly but painfully reminded me that he had just lost his brother… and it was still my fault. At least partly.

I sat Violet gently in the passenger seat of our car, then came back and got to work on Desmond, using some leftover zip ties I kept in my bag on her wrists, binding them in front of her so I could keep an eye on them. Then I went to work on her feet. As far as I could improvise, I used all the tricks I’d learned as a warden backward, making sure that Desmond wouldn’t be able to escape from her bonds the way I would usually try to escape them. It didn’t make this feel any safer, any less like we were making a horrible mistake, but at this point, we had little choice.

Finally, when she was as secure as I could make her, I picked her up, a part of me surprised at how light she felt for a creature filled with so much evil. As I worked, I heard Ms. Dale start up Owen’s car and drive carefully around toward the secret entrance.

I thought about putting Desmond in the trunk—I didn’t want her waking up on the drive and causing havoc—but resigned myself to keeping her in the backseat so I could keep an eye on her. Once I had her loaded up, I drove the car around, parking it next to where Ms. Dale had parked hers, so I could see inside.

Ms. Dale was on the handheld, the blue light cutting a bright contrast against the flickering red flames. “We need a location and a timeframe, plus any suggested driving routes, Thomas. We’re worried their vehicle may have a trace on it.”

“Affirmative—we’re just wrapping things up here. The emergency staff decided to go back to the city, by the way. Something about the people needing them after what we did.”

“It was their choice,” she said. “Just send us a message. Being this close to yet another fire tonight is creeping me out.”

“Understood. Expect something in under a minute.”

Ms. Dale clicked off the handheld and placed it on the hood, running a hand through her hair. Her ever-present braid had slipped out, and I could see the strands of silver in her hair shining a bright iridescent red as they reflected the fire. “Owen’s got a head injury, but it might be superficial. Tim… Tim’s not so good. I don’t see a sign of a head injury, but his pupils are sluggish. I’m not sure why.”

I stared at where Tim rested on the ground, noting the dark bruising all over his body, disappearing under his clothes. “Me neither. I’ll grab him and then help you with Owen.”

“Owen first. I want to jostle Tim as little as possible.” The handheld chirped, and Ms. Dale turned and tapped a few buttons on it. “Thomas came through—we’ll meet him forty-five minutes from here. I have a route. Let’s move.”

There was no arguing with that tone, even if I wanted to. And I didn’t.





9





Violet