She took a step back, and this time King didn’t stop her. “Sorry, General, but I’m not who you think I am, and there is no way in hell I’m going anywhere with you.” She raised the laser, letting him see it for the first time. “Move and I’ll shoot.”
His sudden laugh sent a chill skittering over her skin. There was nothing sane in that cold sound. “You could never hit me with the laser, child. I am faster than the wind, and lighter than shadow. You can’t kill a shadow—don’t you know that? Didn’t your precious nanny teach you anything?”
She blew out a breath. What was the point of going on with the pretense that she didn’t know what he was talking about? All he had to do was get her back to Hopeworth and the truth would be revealed. She wasn’t a creature of natural selection, so what she should concentrate on now was escaping both this man and Hopeworth.
“My nanny taught me lots about humanity, General, and for that I owe her more than I can ever repay.” Sam paused. “Why did you want Mary Elliot dead?”
“I wanted her knowledge, but the mere fact that you came to see her was enough to satisfy my uncertainties.” He gave her a cold smile. “And in the end, you walked into my trap much more easily than I ever dreamed possible. King, get the laser from her.”
She tensed, waiting for some sound, some sensation, some feeling that King was obeying his master’s orders.
But King didn’t answer. Blaine frowned. “King? Did you hear me?”
“I heard.” The answer came about half a dozen steps away from Blaine’s left shoulder. If she squinted, she could just make out the slight shimmer of his position. But with Blaine so close, she didn’t dare squint for long.
“I gave you an order, son. Obey it.”
“King is not yours to command, General.”
The voice came from behind Blaine, but it wasn’t King’s.
It was Joe’s.
THIRTEEN
GABRIEL GRIPPED MOHERN’S ARM TIGHTLY as he rushed him through the sterile halls of the SIU. Technically he wasn’t a prisoner, so he wasn’t cuffed, but Gabriel had a feeling the petty thief had begun to have more than a few second thoughts about “singing like a bird” during the car ride here.
And though it was unlikely he’d get very far away in the monitored and tightly secured halls—not to mention Briggs keeping a close eye on him from behind—Mohern had escaped Sethanon’s clutches for many months and therefore had to have more native cunning than what he was currently showing.
They reached one of the interview rooms and Gabriel punched in a code. Then he pressed his hand against the print pad. The machine hummed to life, a blue light sweeping his prints before the door clicked open. He waved Mohern inside, then turned to Briggs as she stopped beside him. “Give him coffee and a meal, and then take his statement.”
“What about my new ID?” Mohern said from the center of the sparsely furnished room.
“That’ll be under discussion after you sign the statement.” Gabriel looked back at Briggs. “If he doesn’t sign it, keep him here until he does.”
“Hey, you can’t do that. It’s against the law.”
Briggs grinned. “We’re SIU. A law unto ourselves.”
“Great,” Mohern muttered, as he sat down.
Gabriel kept his amusement to himself. “Get him to do a photo ID of all the men present at both Wetherton’s murder and Kathryn Douglass’s.”
Briggs nodded. Gabriel turned and headed for the elevator. His phone rang before he got there. “Assistant Director Stern,” he said, as he punched the elevator’s call button impatiently.
“Mitchell from Monitoring, sir. Agent Ryan just pressed her wristcom’s alarm button, and we’ve also received a priority call from an usher at Her Majesty’s Theatre. Apparently he called on Agent Ryan’s orders.”
Gabriel’s gut clenched. He should have known something had happened when she’d hung up so abruptly. And yet she had to be all right, because he would have sensed anything else. “What did the usher say?”
“That she has a priority-one situation and wants a med team and backup. The man she was with has been shot. She’s gone after the suspect.”
Which under normal circumstances she undoubtedly could have handled. But given just who Wetherton might have been involved with, as well as who might have wanted him dead, it was better not to take chances.
“Send two teams immediately.” Gabriel hesitated. “Has she hit the locator?”
“Yes, sir.” Mitchell paused. “Victoria Street, near Leicester.”
“Tell the teams to take control of the situation at Her Majesty’s. I’ll back up Agent Ryan.”