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Trash bins lined the wall, overflowing with paper and food wrappers. To her right were half a dozen large buildings, some with lights glowing brightly, some dark, and farther down the slope were several cars. She knew how to hot-wire a car. Jack had taught her.

To her left was a high wire fence. It was electrified. She could hear the high-pitched whine running through the wire, could feel the dance of power—a sensation that was similar to yet somehow different from the touch of the storm.

She pushed the rest of the way out and climbed to her feet. Beyond the whine of the fence, beyond the thunder of the approaching storm, someone breathed. A guard was close by. His cologne stung the air, a sharp mix of spices that tickled her nose.

After taking a deep, calming breath, she stepped around the corner. The man was alert, raising his gun so fast it was little more than a blur. But with the night seeming to feed her energy, she was much faster. She clenched her fist and smashed him in the mouth before he could fire the weapon. Like the man in the morgue, he went down like a ton of bricks. She caught him, grunting under the sudden strain of his weight, and slowly lowered him to the ground. She’d hit people before, and often in anger. Never had she gotten a reaction like this. So what had changed? Had she changed in some way, or was it something to do with the weird sense of power running through the night?

She grabbed the man’s gun—a laser, just like the one she’d found under Jack’s bed. It would slice through the wire as easily as a fish through water—but doing so might well short out the fence and warn Jack of her location. Something she couldn’t afford just yet. The slope beyond was tree-lined and rocky, but a pregnant woman desperate to see her husband again would have no trouble climbing it.

She stepped over the guard’s body and walked to the next corner. No guard, but a monitor on the far corner. If she shut it down, Jack would know where she was. She didn’t want that just yet.

She moved back to the vent side of the building. Where was the main power source? Did it come in off the state’s resources, or was there a generator of some kind here? Her gaze came to rest on a small structure on the far side of the encampment, close to the parking lot. Generator, she thought, and housed in that building. Why she was so certain, she wasn’t sure. Nor did she have the time to worry about it.

After squeezing back through the vent, she walked down to the cell that held the two women. Both glanced up expectantly when she opened the door.

“We heard the noise and hoped you would come,” Lyssa said softly, rising from her bed.

“You’re going to have to climb through a rather small vent.” She glanced at Lyssa’s stomach. “Though if you’re a shapechanger, it might be easier to simply shift shape.”

Lyssa rubbed a hand across her stomach. “I can’t. Not when I’m pregnant. Shifters might be able to, but no changer can. It’s too dangerous for the developing child.”

Sam raised her eyebrows. “Why wouldn’t the same rule apply to shifters?”

Lyssa shrugged. “It’s something to do with the fact that we take on animal forms, whereas shifters remain human, regardless of which shape they are in.”

“It confuses the DNA, and can often abort the child,” Jan added.

And that was not a risk any pregnant woman was likely to take, even to escape a prison. “It’s going to be tight,” Sam said.

“I would crawl across glass on my hands and knees, if that’s what it took to get out of here.”

Which was basically what she had to do. “Then follow me.” She led them back to the vent. “Jan, you first.”

The older woman got down on her stomach and slithered into the tunnel. It was a tight squeeze, and it was only after several minutes of indelicate pushing that she made it through to the other side.

“Okay,” Jan whispered, and moved back from the vent.

Sam glanced at Lyssa. “Ready?”

Lyssa nodded and began to push herself through the small gap. Although she was much smaller boned than Jan, she was six months pregnant, and her stomach scraped firmly against the rough bluestone walls. She gasped several times, and slight smears of blood touched the blue-gray stones. But she didn’t stop. Once her belly was free at the other end, the rest of her slid through easily.

Sam squeezed through after them, and as she climbed to her feet, she listened to the night. Nothing stirred. The strengthening wind brought with it no sound of movement. They were safe for a few minutes longer. She led the two women around the corner and checked the pulse of the man she’d belted. Alive, but still out cold.

“You know how to handle one of these?” she asked, handing the laser to Lyssa.

Lyssa nodded, flicking the safety off and sighting the fence. Sam touched her hand, halting further movement.

“The fence is electrified. You shoot now, and they’ll know.”

“Then what do we do?”

Lyssa’s blue eyes studied her for a moment, trusting and yet shrewd. Something in her gaze reminded Sam of Stephan. Even Gabriel. A determination to do what had to be done, perhaps.

“You do nothing but wait here. I’ll turn off the power.”

“And if we’re discovered?” Jan asked, a hint of fear in her voice.

“You shoot. Don’t hesitate.”

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