“What do you think you’re getting out of all this?” Sam asked. “You got daddy issues you’re trying to resolve? You think if you help him get back on top, he’ll be proud of you or something?”
Knife Boy sneered. “Don’t bother with the amateur psychology crap. My father has nothing to do with this. He died a long time ago. All I’m in this for is power. They have it, I want it. So I’ll take it. That’s the way it’s been for thousands of years.”
Sam nodded. “Sure. I get it. Much easier to steal something from someone else than to work hard to achieve your own goals. Lazier, but easier.”
“If you say so.”
“So how are you going to steal it? Anson tell you the secret yet?”
He didn’t answer, but the sudden lack of expression told Sam that Anson hadn’t let them in on anything. He’d probably strung them all along with promises he couldn’t—or simply wouldn’t—fulfill.
“You are one dumb fuck,” Sam said amiably. He relaxed his stance and grinned as if they shared a joke. The kid’s face darkened, and his hand tightened on the knife. Sam eased onto the balls of his feet and watched the kid’s eyes, because they’d telegraph his movement.
And then those eyes rolled up into the guy’s head, and he slumped to the floor. Riley stood behind him, her hand still raised where she’d done…something to the kid. Her lower lip was split, and a three-inch bruise bloomed above her left eye. Her chest showed scratches where the bastards had torn at her shirt.
“You were taking too long,” she said. “I got bored.”
Sam engulfed her, unable to get her close enough even though his arms could have wrapped around her twice. “You scared me,” he murmured against her hair. His turmoil eased further with each moment of contact. Craving replaced it, a need to bury himself in her—physically, emotionally, forever. The terror he’d felt outside the apartment spiked for a second and then slid away, no match for the richer, stronger emotion that welled up after it.
“Are you okay?” he managed to ask.
She pulled out of the embrace and gave a half-hearted nod. “Okay enough.”
Sam pulled himself together and concentrated on the here and now. “What the hell did you do to him, the Vulcan nerve pinch?”
That got a smile out of her, though it immediately became a frown when she spotted the crowd on the floor. A couple of the boys were trying to extricate themselves.
“Something like that, I guess. I just applied energy to a particular spot and willed him unconscious.”
Sam stared at her. “You are incredible.” She didn’t look at him, and he was afraid she read the wrong thing in his voice. “Seriously, Riley. Look at me.” He pinched her chin and tilted it until she had to look at him. “I’m sorry I didn’t get there sooner. But you are amazing.”
It didn’t help. Darkness clouded her eyes. Guilt, maybe, or an echo of his earlier fear.
A shout came from the front room. Sam tried to hold Riley back, but she shook him off. Whatever had knocked her out before didn’t seem to be affecting her now. She leaped across the pile of Numina kids—landing on some of them as she went—and dashed down the hall. Sam followed but froze when he reached her side at the end of the hall.
The room was almost completely empty. The three Numina men and the protégées who hadn’t been in the hall were gone, and so was John, if he’d ever arrived after Nick did. Marley crouched next to where Nick was on one knee, supporting her sister. Quinn opened her eyes, and Sam went icy cold at how pale they’d become. She’d been leeched—not completely, but anything was too much.
“God, no.”
Nick looked up. “Anson. The shit got away.”
“No,” Sam repeated, louder. He whirled toward the front door, hands in fists, fury pulsing in every muscle. As long as Anson was out there, free, he could do this. Not just to Quinn, with whom he had a unique connection, but now that he’d gotten some power back, he could do this to anyone. To Riley.
Nick’s voice stopped him. “Sam. It’s too late. And we have to take care of Quinn.”
Sam hauled back on his rage, his driving need to chase down the enemy and stop him for good. “What do we do?”
“I don’t know.” Nick’s voice shook. “I’ve never seen her so weak.”
“Water,” Quinn croaked.
Marley jumped up. “I’ve got it.”
Riley limped over to them. “I think I can help.” She knelt to put her hand on Quinn’s and raised her eyebrows in question. Quinn nodded and closed her eyes.
Sam couldn’t tell what happened, but a few moments later, he caught Riley as she swayed back. Quinn sat up.
“That’s better.” She sounded a little stronger. “Thank you, Riley, and I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be stupid.” Riley tried to stand, but Sam held her down.
“Give yourself a minute.”
Cupboard doors banged in the kitchen several feet away. “There’s nothing here!” Marley cried.
“In my pack.” Nick indicated his bag on the floor inside the door. “There’s a flask in there. Empty.” He helped Quinn sit up and, when she shifted to stand, locked his hand around her wrist to gently pull her upright. “What do you think?”
She nodded. “I can get to the car.”
“Downstairs. I’ll bring the car to you.”
“No time.” She took the flask Marley handed her and drank deeply, nodding her thanks. “We have to get out of here before John comes back with the cops.”
Sam and Riley stood. He kept his arm around her as they all moved toward the door. “That’s where he went?”
“He called the cops from the elevator when Marley told us what was going on,” Nick explained. “If we’re lucky, they intercepted the Numina fuckers on their way out. They hauled ass when John and I came in here. We’ll deal with all of that later.” He lifted Quinn into his arms. “This is faster,” he bit out to cut off her attempt to argue. Marley grabbed Nick’s bag and followed them out the door, Sam and Riley taking up the rear.
“Where are we going to go?” Riley asked once they were in the elevator. She pressed the button for the lobby while Sam positioned himself in front of the doors. “Portland,” Quinn said without lifting her head from Nick’s shoulder. “Tanda’s next.” She coughed and closed her eyes.
Sam checked behind him in the reflection on the elevator’s highly polished doors. Nick stared at the numbers flashing above, as if willing them to move faster. Sam thought he might shatter if he loosened up even a fraction. Marley had moved close to her sister and kept making reassuring touches to her hair, her shoulder, her hand. Quinn rested her head on Nick’s shoulder and smiled at Marley.
Still without looking, Sam reached over and threaded his fingers through Riley’s. He shouldn’t give in to the clawing need. Shouldn’t take them closer to something that could devastate them both in the end. But the comfort and stability that came with touching her was worth it. For now.
No matter what happened next, he’d do everything in his power to make it all right.
For everyone.
Chapter Twenty
Failure is never defeat, but simply a reminder to see alternate paths to your destination. Sometimes, failure actually indicates that you are on the wrong path altogether. Recognition of this can lead to enlightenment, and even peace.
Rain clattered against the apartment window. Normally a comforting sound, today it grated on Sam’s nerves. He shifted on the hard wooden chair and sighed before plugging another database into the browser. His finger came down harder on the “enter” button than he’d intended.