Thirteen (Otherworld 13)

"Like us? What are you?"

"Acies," she said. A vision-enhanced half-demon, very mild powers. "They give me sedatives, then someone comes to bail the prisoners out and takes them to the lab. Sometimes I find the subjects on my own. Sometimes I'm tipped off. That's what happened with you. I got a call. My contact didn't tell me who you were--he just described you and where to find you. The sedatives have always worked." She glanced into the cell and swallowed. "It must be the latest batch. Everything was fine--"

"Yes, just fine. All you were doing was kidnapping our kind on false charges, then selling us as guinea pigs in horrific experiments."

She bristled. "Those experiments will save us. They're benign--"

"Benign?" I clenched my fists so hard I heard the faint pops of my knuckles cracking. "Tell that to the subjects they dumped into a watery pit. Before they were dead! Those benign--" I lifted my hands for emphasis and sparks flew everywhere.

Jaime caught my elbow. "How about we skip the blame game. Jeremy will find me eventually, and this is something he shouldn't walk into blindly."

She was right. Most werewolves can't follow a scent when you've traveled by car, but Jeremy wasn't your average werewolf. He had an extra boost of kitsune blood, which helped him find his family when they were in danger. Jaime was family. He'd be on his way.

"Am I drugged?" I asked Medina.

She shook her head. "I only had enough left for one more. You seemed compliant enough." She gestured at Jaime. "She was the one who was fighting."

"When you came in here, what were you running from?"

She pointed to the cell.

"There's nothing else?"

She shook her head.

So the werewolf had been on the loose, and she and her partner ducked in here to escape it, only to trap themselves with it. Which I'd say was fitting, except that they weren't the ones who'd died for her stupidity.

"So as soon as that lock opens, we're free to go?" Keiran asked.

Medina nodded.

Holland lurched from his stupor. "N-no. There's paperwork. We have to do the paperwork. People can't just walk out of . . ."

He looked around, then caught sight of the blood sprayed across the hall floor. He stumbled toward the cell, Medina grabbing for his arm to stop him. Too late. Holland saw what was in there, doubled over and threw up.

He was still retching, Medina at his side, when the time lock on the door clicked. Keiran grabbed the handle. I jammed my foot in the way, stopping it.

Keiran glowered at me. "I'm leaving, okay? I don't care what the council says about this mess and my 'duty' to help clean it up--"

"I was just going to say to be careful."

I pulled my foot away and she slipped through. I was about to follow, but Jaime caught my sleeve.

"Not so fast," she murmured. She slid one stiletto into the door opening, then put her ear to the gap.

Medina marched over. She'd pulled her partner away from the carnage in the cage and left him sitting, slumped against a wall, head on his knees. She grabbed the door. When Jaime made a move to stop her, she snapped, "You stay here until I make sure the witch is okay."

As Medina went through the door, Jaime gave me a questioning look.

"Hell, no," I murmured. "I've had enough of playing hero. We didn't send them out as bait. Their choice. Might as well take advantage."

We could hear Keiran's pumps receding along the hall, then the softer thumps of Medina's loafers. A murmur of voices as Medina caught up. The click of a door. We waited for another ten seconds.

"No screaming yet," Jaime said.

"Always a good sign."

We slid out.