14
I slathered myself with sunscreen—Emma kept extra bottles on hand for me—and checked my weapons while Rizzoli called for backup to meet him at the university. Rizzoli, Bruno, and I walked out toward the cars, leaving the others behind. We were halfway across the parking lot when the guys exchanged a look. Rizzoli turned to face me, pulling his hand out of his pocket; he was holding something that I couldn’t see.
“What?” I looked from one man to the other, trying to figure out what was going on.
“Sorry, honey. You’re not coming. Not this time.” Bruno didn’t sound sorry. He sounded smug. I’d barely opened my mouth to argue when I heard the crack of a spell disk breaking and found I couldn’t say anything.
I’d been hit with a full body bind. I couldn’t move a muscle.
The bastard.
Once upon a time I’d suggested this exact spell to Creede. He’d worked out the kinks and started mass-producing different variations. The one favored by law enforcement froze all of the major muscles, but left the heart and lungs alone. Some people could even manage the occasional finger twitch. The binding lasted for ten minutes—long enough for the bad guy to be cuffed and put in the back of the squad car. From what I’d heard, John had been making a fortune off of them. They were certainly useful. I wasn’t surprised Rizzoli stocked them. I was just surprised he’d use it on me.
“He’s right, Graves,” Rizzoli said. “You’re sitting this one out. I respect you and you’re capable as hell. But you’ve been named a target by these guys and you’re a civilian. I can’t risk it. I wouldn’t be taking DeLuca here if I didn’t need him for permission to search the office. I am sorry.” At least he sounded like he meant it. Of course that didn’t make me any less pissed when I watched him walk over to my Miata and let the air out of two of my tires.
“I can’t believe you did that!” Emma stood in the doorway, glaring from Bruno to Rizzoli and back again. Kevin, a step or so behind her, was chortling.
“She’ll be fine in ten minutes,” Bruno assured her. “And you know how Mortensen feels about her, and even vampires can be killed by magic. Do you really think she should come along?”
Emma’s lips tightened into a thin line. “No, but that’s not the point.”
Bruno didn’t argue. Instead, he picked me up at the waist and carried me into the shade, where he leaned me against the trunk of a tree like a freaking surfboard. Leaning over, he gave me a quick peck on the lips.
I have never wanted to knee a man in the crotch so badly in my life. He had no idea how thankful he should have been for that full body bind. Not a clue.
“Gotta go. Love you.”
Emma came out to stand beside me, looking grim, as Bruno and Rizzoli drove away in Rizzoli’s car. She showed me the set of keys she was holding. “They didn’t disable my car. When the spell breaks, you can take it. But you have to promise me you’ll be careful. Jan is powerful, smart, and he really does hate you. I don’t know why.”
I would’ve promised … if I could’ve. As it was I just stood there like a freaking statue, my mouth partially open. I was so furious I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t even do that. I was so completely helpless. Every second stretched into eternity. Emma, bless her heart, stood next to me, waiting, offering moral support.
Finally, finally, the binding spell wore off, releasing me so suddenly that I stumbled and would’ve fallen over if Emma hadn’t caught me. It took probably five more minutes for the cramping to pass enough that I could have any hope of walking to the car.
“Bruno’s going to be pissed if you let her go,” Kevin said. The whole time Emma had stood beside me, he had been leaning casually against the doorjamb with Paulie sitting calmly at his feet. He didn’t sound like he was going to interfere or like he was passing judgment. It was just an observation.
“Bruno DeLuca can kiss my lily-white ass,” Emma snapped.
Kevin shook his head. “Whatever. I’m staying out of it.”
“Good,” Emma and I snarled in chorus. Raising his hands in surrender, Kevin backed into the house, pulling the door closed behind him and giving himself plausible deniability if Bruno tried to give him a hard time later.
I climbed awkwardly into Emma’s little subcompact. My muscles still weren’t behaving normally. Fortunately the car had an automatic transmission. I wouldn’t have to try to handle the clutch or shift gears once I got it backed out of its parking spot.
Emma pressed her keychain into my hand after I strapped on my seatbelt. “Be careful.”
“I will. I promise.” I meant it, too. I’m not invincible. The events in Mexico showed me that all too clearly. But I wasn’t going to sit back and let Bruno get away with pulling a stunt like this. No way. If I did that he’d feel free to do it again, or something else he considered “necessary” or “for my own good.” Screw that—twice—with something sharp.
It was a long drive from Emma’s to the university, long enough that I was able to calm down and think by the time I reached the edge of campus. Oh, I was still furious, but it wasn’t the blind, unthinking rage that had overcome me when that spell disk cracked open.
They shouldn’t have done it and they’d both be getting hell from me about it later.
But that didn’t change the reality of the situation.
Dominic Rizzoli was a federal agent. He was smart, tough, and experienced. He was in charge of an investigation to capture a terrorist. He was entitled to give the orders. More to the point, his talent—and greatest gift—was intuition. He knew where to be, when to be there, and who he needed with him.
If I went against that, I’d be doing to him exactly what Creede had done to me, and I’d be risking lives doing it.
It was a bitter realization. It hurt, and I hated it. But it was the truth. So, rather than pull up to the parking lot and flash my FBI consultant’s badge at the security guard standing there, I drove past and parked in the first shady, curbside spot I found. It was a no-parking zone, but I didn’t plan to stay long.
I had just started trying to figure out exactly what I was going to do next when Okalani stepped off the curb less than thirty feet ahead of me.
The last time I’d seen her, she’d been a pretty girl of fifteen or so with exotic features, dark brown skin, and hair that would’ve been kinky-curly if it hadn’t been kept cropped close to her skull. She’d looked and acted like a kid. Now, even though not that much time had passed, she looked older, harder. The baby fat had left her cheeks and there were harsh lines at the corners of her mouth.
Holy crap.
I threw open the car door and started climbing out, calling her name.
She turned, and when she saw me, I had microseconds to recognize the expressions that flickered across her face. Recognition, guilt, and terror. She turned, as if to someone standing beside her, though there was no one there. As she did, I saw something flicker at the edge of my consciousness. It was something familiar, yet foreign. I started toward whatever I saw … and smelled something I’d smelled before.
Okalani’s eyes went wide with horror. “No!” she screamed, and leapt toward me, blocking me from reaching past her.
Our fingers touched, the briefest of contacts, and I felt the world lurch sideways.
When everything was still again I found myself in a darkened room lit only by the little red dots from plugged-in surge protectors and a crack of light around each of four doors. Not much light to see by, but I don’t need much. Besides, I knew where we were. I’d been in this room dozens of times while attending the college. We were in one of the auditorium classrooms.