But then his hand slips down to his boot, and I just make out a flash of silver before I leap back out of range.
He had a knife the whole time…why didn’t he use it before?
“You want a war, Leon? You’ve got one.”
He gives me a bloody grin, hand expertly spinning his knife. “I think we both know who started this.”
A familiar sense of dread begins to writhe in my stomach.He knows. He has to know.
You must be prepared to go through with the threat.
“I could kill her for this,” I say. My voice is cold and steady, just loud enough for him to hear over the noise of the sirens and the flames roaring in the distance.
He laughs then, and it’s icy and cruel, just like his sisters. “You couldn’t even if you wanted to.”
No. No, no, no. That’s impossible.
Leon opens his arms out wide. “So, which one of us are you going to go after? Because the longer you spend fighting me, the more time she has to get away.”
22
ISABELLA
Iwaited two whole minutes after Teo left before I sprang into action.
It took me five minutes to search his wardrobe for clothes, settling for a pair of jeans I could roll up and secure with a belt, as well as a black T-shirt that I could tuck in so it didn’t fall to my knees.
It took me another minute to orient myself out in the corridor and beeline to where I saw the computer before.
Then, fifteen grueling minutes to get past the encryption. Ten more to get past the second. Then, half an hour to deal with the third set.
I might have been impressed by the lengths he went to keep people out if I wasn’t in such a rush to get in.
“Where are you?”
These were the first words that Leon managed to send me after I secured the line (another ten minutes.)
“Teo’s hostage. Buy me some time?”
I didn’t wait for his response. I went straight to the front door.
Perhaps I should have checked it out first, because it’s somehow worse to crack than the computer, and every second that passes is fraying my nerves.
In total, it takes three hours, twenty-six minutes, and thirteen seconds from the moment Teo Vitale left to the second I step out into the chilled evening air. Finally,finally,above ground.
I breathe it in hungrily, only just realizing how much I missed it after it fills my lungs once more. And I laugh because I’m free.
But also because I haveno ideawhere I am.
Around the bunker entrance—a set of metal doors that look just like any other maintenance access to the sewers—is a parking lot. It’s not particularly large, but the buildings that surround it are entirely unfamiliar.
None of them are tall like you’d expect in Manhattan. They’re clearly residential, with a few larger buildings in the distance that hint at a more cosmopolitan skyline.
There’s nothing for it. I have to move.
And for the first time since getting out of bed, I regret doing this.
Firstly, because I’m wearing nothing substantial, and it’s proving to be an increasingly chilly night.
