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"I guess I'm not the only one who should have had a nap this afternoon," Joey said.
Clay kept blinking, as if he hadn't heard Joey. He frowned, annoyed, and rubbed his hand over his face.
I touched his arm. "Are you okay?"
"He looks ready to crash," Joey said with a laugh. "Too little sleep and too much food. Guess I should have grabbed espresso instead of Cokes. Why don't you go lie--?"
"You, you bas--" The word fell away in a slurred jumble. Clay gripped the table, pushing himself up.
"Clay?" I said. "What--?"
He fell forward. I lunged for him, but he caught himself at the last second, holding the table, swaying, still trying to focus. Joey had stumbled back, out of his way.
"You son..." Clay slurred the rest. His head wobbled, eyes trying to find Joey. "If you hurt her, I swear, I'll hunt you down and--"
He collapsed into my arms. I lowered him to the floor, frantically checking his pulse, finding it strong, then spinning on Joey.
"What did you--?"
Joey wasn't in his chair. As I turned, I felt a prick on the back of my arm.
I wheeled, fists flying up, hitting Joey's outstretched hand. A syringe fell to the floor. I stared at it, my brain swimming, knees buckling.
"I'm sorry," Joey said.
I crashed to the floor.
BARTER
I WOKE TO the slap of ice-cold air on my face. I tried to nestle under t
he covers, but couldn't find them. Clay moved behind me. I backed toward him, to snuggle up, keep warm, expecting his arm to go around me, spoon me against him, warm breath on my neck, familiar scent washing over me. But he moved away and shook my shoulder.
"Elena, wake up." His voice was distant, distorted.
He kept shaking me.
I pushed his hand off my shoulder. "Tired. 'S cold," I mumbled. "Window's open. Close..."
I stopped. I wasn't in bed. I wasn't even lying down. I opened my eyes, the lids gummy. A blast of bitter wind made me gasp, frigid air filling my lungs, knocking sleep from me.
I was looking at a car window, partly rolled down. Forest beyond. Deep, dark forest, the trees so close I could reach out and...
My hands were bound behind my back.
I twisted, looking for Clay. Joey sat in the driver's seat. I was in the passenger side. The backseat was empty.
"Where is he?" I snarled, struggling to get free, realizing I was bound hand and foot. "Where is he?"
"Back at the hotel. They didn't want him."
It took a moment for me to understand, but when I did, I thrashed wildly.
Joey shrank back against the door and waited until I'd figured out I wasn't getting free, and when I did, I said, slowly turning toward him, "You're exchanging me for Noah."
"I have to. That's what they demanded yesterday. I had until tonight to bring you or they'd kill him. That's why I tried to get you to leave. If you'd taken off, they couldn't expect me to do it." A whine crept into his voice, as if this was all my fault. "I tried to warn you off."
"No, you didn't. You made a halfhearted suggestion that we leave town, but you didn't really want us to go. You just wanted to be able to tell yourself you tried and--"
