Page 29

In some ways, it was like nothing had changed. There was the same entrance I’d left not too long ago, with the same path that led into the depths of what I now knew to be a criminal mastermind’s international drug lab. The same terror shot through my veins like the day I’d been taken, only this time I knew exactly what I was walking into. So that was fun. The only difference now was a gaping hole where there had once been a garage door, and bullet holes along the walls leading down the path into the catacombs. In the dim light from the moon, I could barely see them, but I knew they were there.

I wondered how Holt had explained that to the neighbors. Nothing to see here, folks. We were just filming a movie about gangsters. Yeah. Maybe the shoot-out had been in the news. Then again, maybe everyone was too scared to report it. Maybe the politicians in Holt’s pocket ignored the reports.

I parked the car and walked down to the first checkpoint. The door was locked remotely. The CIA had broken Holt’s security when they’d combed this place originally, but it looked like Holt had everything back up and running now.

I knocked. Because what else was I supposed to do? Then I waved at the camera in the corner, just for kicks and giggles. The light on the sensor blinked green, and the door unlocked. My stomach swooped low, then climbed into my throat. I pulled on the handle and it swung open, revealing Xander and the woman guard who had been stationed at the exit when we’d made our escape. We hadn’t killed her—just stunned her with stun grenades and given her a severe beating. Well, not me. But Chan and Mila.

“The prodigal daughter returns,” the woman said, the words pulling at the cut on her lip. What was her name again? So much had happened that night, I struggled to pull it from the cobwebs of my mind. But then I remembered Mila mentioning it. Blanca.

Xander clearly still held a grudge. He didn’t say anything as he looked me up and down, arms crossed as he scrutinized me.

Blanca touched her earpiece. “She’s here. Xander is going to inspect the car. I’ll check her for bugs before sending her down.” She paused, listening to something. “Yes, she drove. From what I can see, it looks like a government-issued vehicle.”

The person on the other end of the line must have said something that upset them both, because Blanca took a step back, eyes wide as she searched around her, hands up like she was preparing to defend herself. Xander placed his hand on the gun on his hip.

“There’s no need, we can handle—” Blanca started, but fell silent, swallowing hard. “Yes, sir.”

Xander held his hand out to me. “Keys. Now.” He shook his head. “You’re going to get us killed. Either by the CIA or Holt.”

I fished the keys from my pocket and gave them to Xander without another word. He shoved my shoulder as he strode past on his way to the car. Such a pleasant man. It was a wonder he’d ever convinced Mila to go out with him.

Instead of inspecting the car for bugs like I was expecting, he got behind the wheel and started the engine, peeling out of the garage in five seconds flat. The taillights glowed red as he disappeared into the night.

I’d thought Blanca and I were alone, but a voice spoke behind me.

“You brought a government-issued car back here? Don’t you know they’re all equipped with GPS trackers?”

I turned slowly, ice pooling in my stomach. While I’d been busy watching Xander drive away, Holt had joined us from behind, and it was clear from his voice he wasn’t too happy with my choices. Not that that was new, or anything.

I craned my neck to look up at my father. It was hard to make out in the dim light of the garage, but his eyes were bloodshot, and he was plainly on edge. I should have stayed calm, tried to talk him down. But there was something about Holt that always got my hackles up.

“What else did you expect me to do?” My voice rose a few octaves, taking the bait. “You didn’t give me a lot of time to work out the transportation details. I had limited options.”

He glared and I threw my hands up. “I’m not a criminal mastermind like you.”

Holt took a step forward, and it took all my willpower to stay where I was.

“That’s right.” He loomed over me. “You’re no daughter of mine. Or you would have realized the opportunity I gave you all along. And you’re going to pay for what you did, Andee .”

Well, that sounded foreboding. It wasn’t like I thought I would get the red carpet rolled out upon my return or anything, but his comment made goose bumps erupt along my arms all the same. So did the fact that he called me Andee, and not Karma, like he’d been doing since revealing it as my birth name so many weeks ago. Come to think of it, he’d called me Andee on the phone call too. I clamped my jaw shut to keep any embarrassing sounds from escaping and did my best to appear unaffected.

Honestly, as long as he released my mom, I could live with the consequences, whatever they might be. Still, I was light-headed, whether from my knees locking up or how shallow my breaths were coming in and out. I couldn’t help it then—I took a step back.

But Holt didn’t hit me. He turned away like I wasn’t worth his time, and somehow, that was worse. Because I knew my second chances were running out.

Maybe they already had.

“Check her for bugs,” he commanded, directing that last comment at Blanca. He’d already dismissed me. He stared at the wall while she had me undress to nothing, like there wasn’t a gaping hole behind me where anyone might just so happen to walk by. Sure it was the middle of the night, but this was Paris, and while New York was officially the city that never sleeps, Paris could just as easily have earned that name. Red stained my cheeks, but I kept my mouth shut.

Blanca handed me some of my old clothes I’d left behind, and I stepped into them, grateful Holt had at least thought to bring me up something to wear.

Father of the year award, right there. The bar was so low.

Once I was dressed, Blanca took my old clothes and gave them to Holt, who waved a scanner over them, then put them in a metal container that was off to the side, and he literally set them on fire. So that was nice. What was the point of using the scanner to check for bugs if he was just going to burn my clothes anyway?

He’d taken the things from my pockets first, which honestly was a shame. I would have liked to see the flash grenades light up and stun everyone there while I made a run for it. I could have freed my mom while Holt was up here cursing my name. But instead he was caressing the vials like he was about to make love to them.

He placed the scanner and my other items in his pockets, then with his right hand, he grabbed my arm and pulled me down the hall that led into the catacombs. I swallowed, knowing I had no weapons left and I’d already given up any bargaining chips I’d hoped to use in guaranteeing my mother’s safety.

“Where’s my mom?” I tried to pull away from his grasp, but Holt was having none of it. He was ten times stronger than me, and despite my tough-girl attitude, Holt had the actual firepower to back up his bravado.

I cleared my throat and tried again. “You told me you’d let her go. I did everything you asked, Holt. Please.” My voice broke a little despite my best efforts to hide my fear, and I stumbled on a loose brick. Holt’s grip was the only thing that kept me from falling flat on my face.

We took the turn past the cafeteria, and Holt opened the door to the lab. “Sit down and shut up.”

He practically threw me into the only chair in the room, so I was now facing the wet gray stone walls. The sterile white tarps had been removed, so it was as dark as everywhere else in the catacombs, with a solitary lamp that stood in the corner.

I glanced around, taking in all the changes that had happened to the lab since I’d been here last. As far as redecorating went, Holt was going for a minimalist look. Most of the tables were gone, along with all the equipment that had been on them. There was only one table left, with a few odds and ends on it like a collection of empty glass test tubes. The air canisters were still stacked along the side of the practically empty room. Apparently Holt hadn’t deemed those important enough to smuggle out during his mad dash from law enforcement, and the CIA hadn’t thought they were important either, once they realized they only contained air and not illicit drugs. There was a new addition in the corner—a strange machine that took up quite a bit of space and had an impressive number of buttons on its display. The cell with its bars was obviously still there, and inside it was—

“Mom!”

Forget Holt. I ran to the cell but couldn’t get my hand inside due to how close together the bars were. My mom was tied to a chair a foot away, and she didn’t look like she was in good shape. She didn’t even seem like she could understand me, but she did blink.

I tried to communicate telepathically with her, but she was either too tired or too drugged to get the memo. Her head lolled to the side, and her eyes were glassy and empty. Her forehead was covered with a sheen of sweat, tendrils of hair plastered to it as she stared straight ahead, expression vacant.

“What’s wrong with her?” I pressed my face against the bars, trying my best to get to her, but I knew from firsthand experience it was no use.

“I said sit down and shut up.” Holt pulled a gun from its holster and pointed it at me.

I swallowed.

Then I sat back in my chair, gripping the edges so tightly my knuckles turned white.

When he was content I was finally obeying orders, Holt put his gun away and placed the first vial, the one with the kill pill solution, in the machine in the corner. He still held the antidote in a death grip. His attention seemed to be split between me and the machine. He’d glance at me, then back at the screen, his eyes ping-ponging back and forth like he wasn’t sure which was going to make a move first.

He punched a few buttons, and the machine came to life, doing what, I wasn’t sure. I stayed silent, watching my mom rather than the machine. Every so often her head would bob, and she’d jerk back up, blinking and refocusing. Occasionally, she’d look at me, and it was like she’d actually see me, but that recognition would be gone as soon as it appeared, and my hope would vanish.

The machine beeped, and Holt made a contented sound. I didn’t glance over though. Who cared what Holt was doing when my mother was clearly suffering? I had to find a way to get her out. Holt wasn’t going to hold up his end of the bargain.

I guess I shouldn’t have held my breath that a bad guy would do the honorable thing for once. It made me worry for Chan that the sniper might still be camped outside their safe house, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it now. First things first, I had to help my mom. Then I’d find a way to warn Chan.

I looked over at the only table, straining my eyes in the dim light to see if it happened to hold the key for the cell. There was a beaker that held some kind of unidentified liquid. A single gas mask. And what looked like my stun grenades. Holt had probably placed them there after he’d told me to sit still and shut up, but I’d been too preoccupied to notice.

So I hadn’t lost them after all. They were simply out of reach.

Like all my hopes of getting me and my mom out of here alive.

Holt took the first vial out of the machine and replaced it with the antidote, pushing more buttons so the machine whirred to life once more. When it was finally quiet, he turned to me, all smiles.

“It looks like you did something right for once.” He tapped the first vial against his temple. “Smart girl. You brought me the real solutions, and you didn’t let the CIA keep any of the formulas to test for themselves. Every drop is here. That’s almost enough for me to regret what I did to your mother.”

My head whipped back to my mom. “You promised you’d let her go.” My fists were so tight my nails made half-moon impressions against the palms of my hands. “What did you do?”

He tilted his head to the side, considering my response. Then he came to loom over me, likely intending the move to be intimidating. I didn’t bother giving him the satisfaction. I was too busy watching my mom for signs of impending doom.

Holt’s voice was cold as he answered, “I gave your mother the kill pill.”

I looked up into Holt’s face, my neck nearly breaking from the force of how quickly I snapped it up.

He folded his arms. “But that wouldn’t be enough, no.” He smiled. “To make sure you’d really feel the sting of betrayal like I have, I had to make sure she’d be falling asleep by the time you got here, so I gave her a little something extra to help her nod off when the time was right.”

“You sick, twisted, small little man—”

This time Holt did hit me. So hard I was knocked from my chair, the taste of blood filling my mouth when my jaw hit the floor and I bit my tongue. When I lifted my head, my tears had mixed with the moisture from the stone floor, and I couldn’t tell them apart.

And that was when Chan fell from a vent in the ceiling.