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thirty-six
I walked to Bryce and leaned over, whispering, "Wake up. It's--"
He leapt up so fast I knew he hadn't been asleep at all, and when his hands flew up in a spell, I realized I'd walked into a trap.
As his eyes widened though, I saw that his gaze wasn't fixed on me . . . and his outstretched hands weren't aimed at me either.
I spun as Anita Barrington lunged, hypodermic raised. I hit her with everything I had--in a knockback that barely made her stumble. But that stumble gave Bryce time to cast an energy bolt. Anita convulsed and dropped the needle.
I grabbed the nearest object I could find--a bedpan--and prepared to swing it at her head as Bryce dove out of bed and snatched the needle from the floor. Then he glanced at me, and frowned at the raised bedpan.
"Cast a binding spell," he said.
"I can't."
"Why? Because she's a witch?"
"No," I said. "I--" I glanced at Anita. If she hadn't heard the rumor already, there was no sense letting her know I was the spellcasting equivalent of a twelve-year-old. Not when she'd seen what I could do--the guy I killed.
"I'm good," I said, hefting the bedpan.
Bryce nodded and advanced on Anita. I could see him straining to keep himself upright, his face flushed with fever.
He lifted the syringe. "Why would you want to waste this on Savannah? This is your chance to use it on yourself."
"No," she said.
"But it's a gift, isn't it? A reward. That's why I got it. A reward for services rendered."
"I don't want it."
He stepped closer. "That's okay. I didn't either."
She jumped up, surprisingly agile for her age and size. She smacked him in the leg as I ran forward. Bryce fell. She grabbed the syringe.
"No!" Bryce shouted as I ran at Anita, bedpan raised. "Stay back. You don't want that shot, Savannah."
I stopped short. "What's in there?" I asked Anita.
"Why don't you ask Bryce? Our prize subject. His reward for his assistance." The grandmotherly facade shattered as she sneered at Bryce. "Did you really think we wouldn't know what you were up to? Giving us the child so you could worm your way in and report back to your Cabal? Did you think we wouldn't wonder why you asked so many questions? Why you insisted on seeing the facilities? A word of advice, boy? Next time your Cabal decides to send a spy, make sure they pick someone a little brighter."
"No one sent--" Bryce stopped.
"Was this your master plan for impressing your family? Proving big brother isn't the only Nast with initiative? Oh, you showed them, boy. You showed them you're as inept as they always thought."
Bryce lunged at her.
"Don't," I said. "She's baiting you because she knows she's screwed. Notice she's not even trying to escape? She's trapped."
"I'm not the only one who's trapped," Anita said. "You're in a solid room behind a locked steel door, children. The only way you're getting out is when my colleagues come to let you out. And it will go much better for you if I'm alive when they get here. You both know I'm very important to this group."
"Maybe," I said. "But I'm not sure my colleagues will agree when they get in here. And they're a lot closer than yours."
I phoned Adam. "Hey. Turns out we had someone in here--Anita Barrington was cowering under a cover spell. Bryce and I have her cornered, but the sooner you get that door open, the happier we'll all be."
"We're working on it," Adam said. "I found the switch, but the door won't open. Jeremy's working on it now. A little show of werewolf force should get the thing moving."
I hung up.
