I let the knives clatter at my feet and leveled a glare at the bane of mankind.
The Imago pressed his pistol into my back and nudged me forward. If I could touch him—any of them—and maintain contact, I’d own the guards. The opportunity would come. It had to.
At the wall, the Imago clicked the buckles in place. Minimal contact with his skin offered only feeble attempts at imbibing his energy.
He stood back and admired his work. My hands and legs, locked in restraints, stretched in an X. My options sucked.
I looked into the eyes of the monster fingering the plunger of his weapon. “I did what you asked. Lower the syringe. I promise I won’t be any trouble.”
“Women and their promises.” He pressed the plunger with the needle buried in Michio’s neck.
Panic burned through my chest, stole my air. A horrible sound burst from my throat.
“Charming, Eveline. Please don’t wet all over my floor.”
“You sick bastard. What did you inject him with?”
Michio’s chin lifted. His eyelids fluttered, and his jaw worked against his gag. Then his eyes met mine and widened.
“Michio.” The Drone traced his lips, spread around the gag. “Assure Eveline that the dose I just gave you was a stimulant to wake you. Do you feel human?”
Michio’s head dipped, raised, dipped again. The fire inside me dimmed. Only a little.
“Very good. Now, the reason you are here. I made a fascinating discovery when I compared your blood to the samples you’ve been providing.” His cape whistled as he swung a fist into Michio’s gut. “Our friendship, all the years we worked together, you were family.” His voice broke. “You kept her blood from me, knowing how much I needed it.” He bent, clutched his abdomen. The air around him seemed to rotate, thicken. He straightened and smacked his lips. “Your betrayal tastes so bitter, it will linger long after I dine on your girlfriend.”
Michio’s expression gathered into a silent and deadly storm behind his gag.
“Ewl em.” The Imago shoved his gun against Michio’s brow.
“Don’t be rude, Siraj. I much prefer him alive.” The Drone turned to me and caressed my face.
I pulled on his energy, one vile spark at a time. One stroke. Two. Then he yanked my head to the side and lowered his mouth to my exposed throat.
“Wait.” My lean into his grip belied my command. “You can’t ingest my blood. Your body wouldn’t absorb it.”
“You have no idea what my body can do.” Beneath the aroma of chemical cleansers, seeped something sinister and stale.
“You smell like your brother.”
Teeth grazed my skin. “My brother smells divine.”
I consumed his Yang through the tips of his meandering fingers and reached for my telepathic connection with the guards. The threads wavered. I grabbed hold with mental fists.
The Drone’s eyes slammed shut and his body hardened against mine. Silence. So heavy there was only the roar of my heart in my ears. Something was happening. The movement under his eyelids and the tremble in his shoulders told me he was communicating with his army.
His head snapped up. “We have a breach.”
Oh shit. Me?
The Imago stiffened behind him, turned toward the door.
Ba-boom.
An explosion vibrated the foundation, loosening rock and silt from the walls, and jarring my bones.
“We must hurry.” The Drone was already at the door, waving to his brother to follow.
The Imago hesitated, narrowed hard eyes on me.
The Drone followed his gaze. “You’re right. Stay with her. But I will not leave the guards.” He flashed me a horrific smile, one that would stick with me for a long time. “Do not release her.”
He vanished through the door, the guards on his heels.
The Imago lapped the room, swinging his pistol and winding my body into a torsion of anxiety. Michio remained motionless, but his eyes darkened with every pass.
My throat tightened in a hot tangle of uncertainty over the explosion and fear for Roark and Jesse. My muscles thrummed to go after the Drone, but first, I had to take down the asshole guarding us. To do that, I’d have to bait him. “Your intimidation is only effective with me unarmed and restrained. Unlock my restraints and fight me like the little man bitch that you are.” I returned his scowl with a grin. “Unless, of course, your spear is too small.”
His pistol moved in a streak of gold. The butt whacked my face and sent my head careening into the wall. He crouched before me and unsheathed the Jambiya dagger. It whirled around his fingers and halted on my inner thigh. He leaned closer in a fume of stale cigar. “Awl ahh ew.”
A biting pain ignited under the dagger. “What? Didn’t quite catch that.”
He lanced the edge downward along my inner thigh. Then his mouth fell upon the wound. The suckling pitched fire through my leg, a melting of flesh from the inside out.