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More proof he knows how dreamwalking works—but I don’t have time to challenge him on it, or ask why he can’t accomplish the same thing by using his own powers.
Actually, I think I know why he doesn’t do it himself—he’s probably too busy making the two of us invisible to Hans.
I cover the room in fog and cross my fingers.
Valerian nods at the guy in the puck mask. “Now have the pucker say something about Erato.”
I chuckle internally. Pucker is a great nickname for that guy.
Taking over, I have the pucker say, “The dryad filed patents that could expose everything.”
Holding my breath, I watch the werewolf’s jaw muscles twitch as the room around us transforms.
Valerian and I look around.
“Is this a morgue?” I ask Valerian in a voice only he can hear.
He nods.
Hans curses under his breath. “I’m going to pay that bitch a visit.”
“Discretion is paramount,” the pucker says, crossing the room to lean over a corpse. “Phobetor is merciless to those who betray us.”
This time, the spooky surroundings and mention of Phobetor have an even stronger impact on Hans. He backs away, his elbows pressing into his sides as if he’s trying to make his body as small as possible.
His wolf self stops eating again and whimpers.
Before I can rein in the dream once more, I find myself back in the tower of sleepers, Valerian at my side.
We look at the empty bed where the werewolf was a moment ago.
Well, puck.
Chapter Twenty
“He got so scared by the second mention of Collywobbles he woke up,” I say, though the tightness of Valerian’s jaw tells me he’s already puzzled that out.
“Wake us up,” he orders. “I have to tell the Enforcers to pump his cell with sleeping gas again.”
Nodding, I jolt him awake and do the same for myself.
Opening my eyes in the bedroom, I watch in stunned fascination as Valerian leaps out of the bed and starts a hologram call with someone.
The Enforcer vampire I saw earlier answers—and he doesn’t lift an eyebrow at either Valerian’s nude state or my presence.
“Sleeping gas,” Valerian barks. “Pump it into the werewolf’s room. Now.”
The Enforcer walks over to a screen with a bunch of buttons and frowns. “He’s already sleeping.”
He gestures to the screen in question, and we see that indeed the werewolf is lying there, as though sleeping.
Or faking.
Or—
“Slice off his right index finger,” Valerian orders urgently.
Gruesome, but sure to reveal if the guy is indeed faking.
The vampire moves with the speed of his kind. In a blur, he shows up on the same screen as Hans, curved blade in hand.
Whoosh.
The finger and the werewolf go their separate ways.
The guy doesn’t wake up or cry out.
My heart sinks. I suspected this might be the case, but—
The vampire touches the werewolf’s throat and looks at the camera. “He’s dead.”
“Heal him,” Valerian says through gritted teeth.
I’m not sure if the vamp heard him or just had the same idea, but he slashes his wrist with the blade and forces some of his blood into the werewolf’s mouth.
Nothing happens.
Valerian curses and punches a nearby wall.
The vampire comes back and begins pressing buttons next to the security monitor that shows the inside of the cell.
The security footage rewinds and plays again.
“There,” I say when Hans opens his eyes. “That must be the moment he woke up.”
What Hans does next isn’t a surprise. He looks around the cell, realizes he’s been captured and kept under. Then his index finger and thumb tap out a familiar code. As soon as he finishes the sequence, his body slumps—but not in sleep.
Valerian curses again. “How soon can you get a healer there? Or a doctor?”
“Not soon enough to make any difference,” the vamp says.
“I’ll call back.” With an angry gesture, Valerian ends the call.
As he grabs some clothes, I try to get my thoughts in order. “What did the pucker mean by ‘blast radius?’” I ask, doing my best to keep my eyes off Valerian’s rapidly disappearing nakedness. It’s too distracting, and I need to focus. “Did you have any reason to think Icelus would blow up half of Gomorrah?”
Valerian pulls a shirt on over his head, covering his mouthwatering abs. “No. Just that they were going to do something.”
“My mom is within the blast radius,” I say. “I need to move her.”
He gestures in his VR. “I just made the arrangements,” he says after a minute. “She’ll be moved to one of the few hospitals not in the Health District.”
I let out a relieved breath. “Thank you.” Everything’s happening so fast I haven’t had a chance to properly freak out, and now I won’t have to. Except… “What about everyone else? Will there be an evacuation?”
“That’s up to the Senate,” Valerian says. “But I doubt it.”
“Why not?”
“If Icelus learn about the evacuation, they’ll set off the bomb, or whatever it is, right away. Or they’ll move it and kill even more people.” Grimly, he adds, “Not to mention, the panic such an evac would create would serve Icelus’s purposes just as much as an explosion would. Maybe more.”
