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Cold eyes stare up at me as the armed runner drops into the filthy snow, no longer alive.
One last look at Daris and I roll to my feet and run as fast as I can into oncoming traffic.
CHAPTERFIVE
BAILEY
The fear in Darius’ eyes chases me into the night. I dodge around cars and hop over the hood of another before they can take me out at the shins.
Sharp angles of cracked concrete bite into the tender flesh of my feet. Bitter cold nips at my toes. I won’t get far barefoot but if I can get to the church half a block away, I can hide there.
I know one thing for sure right now: I stop and I’m dead.
Every muscle in my thighs and calves protests all those ditched opportunities I had at taking kickboxing classes. I make a silent pact with myself. I’ll never miss another if I can just push a little harder, run a little faster.
More guns go off and I don’t stop to see who is behind me or if those guns are pointed in my direction. I duck down another alleyway and pray I don’t find broken glass. As I near the end of the alley a brush of fingers on my shoulder sends a sudden burst of energy through me. Another set of heavy boots on wet cement marks my would-be killers' progress.
“Bailey damn it, stop!”
Augustine or Victor? My addled brain can’t make out the voice. Doesn’t matter. “Fuck you!”
After being freed from the Society I read all the books on how to avoid capture. For having perfect recall, I can't remember shit so I fall back on common sense—evasive maneuvers, don’t let them catch you and get safe then call for help.
I dart in and out of Chicago’s clogged streets, weaving through Friday night traffic.
Glass shatters to my right and I dodge left. I keep low and move fast, not stopping to look behind me until I’m three streets over and two blocks away from Club Genesis.
I spot a genesis runner coming at me from the side. Shit! Maybe I should have stayed with the Denatti men. At least they wanted to play with me a while before offing me.
I do a hard left hook down another alley and around another corner. In front of me is an enormous church with stained glass windows filled with angels playing trumpets. I always swore I would make room in my life for Sunday service once I got my life back on track.
I bust through the closed doors and send up a prayer of thanks they were not locked. Inside there are rows of empty pews. My heart hammers, dumping buckets of adrenaline into my system and making my movements robotic.
I rush inside in a blur of fear. I’m so focused on getting safe, I don’t realize there’s someone behind me until I’m in their arms and being hauled out of the door I just ran through.
“There’s no time to cleanse your sins away, baby. We need to get you safe.”
He sounds out of breath and mad as hell but when he tucks me into his chest, it feels like he’s putting himself between me and potential danger.
I fight against Victor’s unbreakable hold. “Let me go!”
“So those fuckers out there can kill you? No. We have plans for you and none of them work if we are all dead.” Victor grabs my chin and angles my head toward a pack of blood-thirsty hyenas barreling across traffic in our direction. “See.”
A familiar face stands out. The runner who cornered me earlier leads the pack. Altair. I can still smell the stench of death in my nostrils from our brief encounter.
Victor raises a gun and sends the runner to hell with one shot. I look away, not wanting to see more death tonight.
Fuck.Yeah. I don’t think I have any more gas in my tank for running tonight and I think moving onto plan C or D or whatever letter I’m on is a smart move. “How do we get out of here?”
Victor waves and in the next second a SUV comes to a fast stop in front of us.
“We’re done running.”
I oddly agree. The Denatti men are the lesser of all the evils right now.
Victor rushes me down the steps and Darius comes out of the darkness—from where I don't know—gun in hand and throwing open the back door. Blood covers his hands and behind him, a lump of black is crumpled on the ground.
Another Genesis runner.
