Broken

Control

I FOUND MY WINDOW AND CRACKED IT OPEN, NOT SO much so I could hear-I’d hear through the glass just fine-but so I could yank it open and jump through. A second-story leap was easy enough for a werewolf. It wasn’t something I cared to do when I was pregnant, so if I had a choice, I’d return to the fire escape.

Nick barely made it to a hiding place before Zoe and Hull turned the corner. As they headed into the alley, Hull slowed, chin going up as his nostrils flared. Damn! The alley would still smell of Rose.

After a moment’s hesitation, though, he kept walking. Rose’s stink must have been faded enough that he just dismissed it as a stray “bad smell.” He’d ordered Rose to stay at the hotel, so that’s where she’d be.

“I should call,” I heard Zoe say. “Let them know we’re on our way.”

A shiver raced up my spine. Them? Oh, God, there were more supernaturals involved. Of course there were. Zoe had a whole network of contacts here. When Hull promised to let her in on the “deal,” she’d probably offered the services of others.

Did this mean those others already knew about the babies? I fought a prickle of panic. Handle the immediate threat first.

I’d missed Hull ’s response, but it must have been something like “Don’t bother calling,” because she took her cell phone from her purse and waved it at him.

“This little box?” she said. “Great modern invention. Means I don’t even need to stop walking. No time wasted.”

“Do you really think they need any disruptions right now? Why else would they have sent me?”

Sent him? Was Hull working for someone else?

A figure appeared at the end of the alley. The bowler-hatted man, coming up behind them.

Zoe stopped. “Why send someone at all? Why not just phone?”

Hull shrugged. “Perhaps they couldn’t find your code…your numbers. They don’t tell me such things. Now, please, we have to hurry-”

When Zoe still didn’t move, Hull sighed and turned to her.

“This is hardly the best place, but you’re going to be difficult, aren’t you? No matter. I take my opportunities where I can find them, and I can’t ignore a chance at my last ingredient.”

It hit me: Zoe thought we’d summoned her, using Hull. Why wouldn’t she? The last time she’d seen us, he’d been in our care.

I remembered Tee telling Zoe she was in danger.

The rare ingredient. The one Rose said Hull had come to collect.

As I grabbed the window sash and threw it open, the bowler-hatted man strode toward her, a huge butcher’s knife in his hand.

“Zoe!” I screamed.

At my shout she turned, but too late. The zombie swung, and the knife cleaved into her throat. She wobbled, eyes wild. Then she fell.

The zombie yanked the knife out of Zoe’s neck, then looked around. Dimly I realized I’d given myself away. I stumbled back from the window, getting out of his sight, my gaze still fixed on Zoe. She lay on her back, head almost severed, held on only by her spine. My nails dug into my palms as I watched her, and willed that torn flesh to mend itself. It didn’t.

In the woods, Hull had crowed about his luck, how he’d happened across not only me, but that rare final ingredient for his immortality experiment. A semi-immortal vampire.

“You might as well come out, Mrs. Danvers,” he called.

It took a moment to realize he was speaking to me. I crept to the side of the window, where I could see out without being seen.

“Hiding is useless,” he said. “All I need to do is cast a spell, and I can find you. Better come out now, while I’m in a good humor, buoyed by my success with your little vampire friend.”

When I didn’t answer, pique flickered across Hull ’s face. He didn’t cast a spell, though, probably because he didn’t want to waste his spell power. Instead he motioned for the zombie to start searching for me. I weighed my options. I could jump down, surprise Hull and leave the zombie to Nick. Or I could search for a window farther down the alley, slip out, collect Nick and get someplace safer, where we could talk strategy.

The zombie walked in Nick’s direction first. Excellent. All I had to do was wait until he was close enough for Nick to grab, then jump out-

Nick lunged at the zombie. His aim was perfect. As he knocked the zombie off his feet, he sent the butcher knife flying. When they hit the ground, Nick grabbed him by the hair and smashed his skull into the ground. Not as clean or foolproof as snapping his neck, but it did the job.

I moved to act, to take advantage of Nick’s distraction. But the zombie was already crumbling, and Hull had recovered from his surprise. His hands were going up in a spell-

My mouth opened, the scream still burbling up through my throat, hands still reaching for the window to swing through as Hull launched his spell. My blood turned to ice water, certain Hull had launched a fatal spell, taking Nick out-

Hull ’s fingers flicked and Nick stumbled back. Stumbled hard enough to trip, but that was it. A simple knockback spell.

The air whooshed from my lungs, nearly doubling me over with relief. Hull advanced on Nick and I recovered, taking hold of the window again-

“If you get up, I will pick a spell that will keep you down,” Hull said, looming over Nick.

I scrambled back, out of sight. Hull wasn’t going to kill Nick. Not yet. Magic was all Hull had, and a lethal spell would drain his power.

My gaze traveled to the knife. It lay in a heap of garbage about ten feet away. Hull ignored it, probably knowing that if he went for it, Nick would do the same, and in a hand-to-hand fight, Nick could kill Hull before he could cast.

“Where is she?” Hull said.

Nick glared.

Stones crunched at the end of the alley. Hull slowly turned toward the sound, his face creasing in a smile.

“Ah…” he murmured. “Perhaps I don’t need that tracking ritual after all.”

Another crunch of gravel, the noise still small enough to be a mistake, someone shifting impatiently. Jaime was drawing Hull ’s attention away from me.

Perfect. Without Hull ’s zombie servant, he’d have to go after “me” himself, turning his attention from Nick.

But he didn’t budge. Instead, his voice rang out, echoing along the alley.

“Mrs. Danvers. Earlier, you refused to consider my offer to spare your life and your mate’s in return for your babes. I trust you’ll be more flexible in the matter now.”

No, no, no! I’m right down that alley. Can’t you hear me? Knock Nick out, then come after me. I’m right there!

“I’m sure you can see, from your nook, that I have your friend. Do I even need to articulate my exchange? I think not. I will say, though, that it comes with a time limit. I am a patient man, but I have waited so long-so unbelievably long-and the end is right before me. A vampire to complete my experiment, and a black-market treasure to allow me to make the final preparations at my leisure, unhurried by want of funds. Seeing these things, so close…it would try any man’s patience, would it not? You have five minutes. At the end of that, I kill your friend and come after you.”

“Elena,” Nick said, his voice a low growl. “Get out of here.”

“Oh, come now,” Hull said. “Do you really think-”

“My choice, Elena,” Nick continued. “Do you remember that? I make my own choices.”

Hull ’s fingers flew up, the spell cast too quick for me to even move. Another knockback spell, this one harder, sending Nick flying into the brick wall. A dull crack, and he slumped. I didn’t breathe until I saw the steady rise and fall of his chest.

I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to attack. Okay, Hull. Now Nick’s not a threat. And you know where I am, where you think I am. No reason not to just stroll down there and take me-

“Mrs. Danvers!” he called. “The clock is ticking. Your friend is sleeping away the last minutes of his life.”

I balled my fists. Hull didn’t care that he could get me easily. He wanted me to turn myself over. He wanted control.

There was only one thing to do. Give him that control. I had to do what we should have done back in the woods. Let Hull take me, get him away from my family and friends, bring this down to us-him and me and my unborn children-and pray that once he thought he’d won, I could somehow turn the tables. I went numb even thinking about it, but that’s what I had to do.

“I’m here,” I said, moving to the window.

His gaze swung along the alley, then up, following my voice. Seeing me, he smiled.

“Very good. That’s the first step. Now, come out-slowly. If there is anyone with you, please remind them I still have your friend, only a spellcast away.”

I knew Hull wouldn’t let me retreat to the fire escape. I crawled backward out the window, lowered myself as far as I could and dropped, bending my knees as I fell.

A deep breath, and I turned around.

“Excellent,” Hull said. “Now, I’m afraid our departure will be delayed while my zombie makes the journey from the portal. An inconvenience, but I’m not about to leave my vampire corpse just lying about where anyone can find it.”

As we waited, I struggled against the urge to plot, to plan, to use the delay and find a way to end this, right now. I couldn’t. I had to get Hull away from Nick and Jaime.

At the thought of Jaime, my gaze stole down the alley. Was she still there, watching helplessly? Or had she gone for help?

A flicker of hope at the thought, doused as I realized that was what I didn’t want. I’d already endangered-and killed-enough people trying to escape Hull. Time to bring it down to the two of us. No rescue. No backup. Just us.

After a couple of minutes, Nick mumbled something, and I jumped. Hull spun, hands rising to cast. Nick settled again, still unconscious, but for how long? Maybe I should distract Hull, end this here before Nick woke.

“You killed Anita Barrington, didn’t you?” I said. “She saw you at the crime scene. She knew you were a sorcerer. That’s what she wanted to tell me. But you got to her first.”

Hull laughed. “Ah, yes, the poor witch. Always innocent, aren’t they? Yes, she recognized what I was…and begged me to help her, promised to deliver you into my hands in return for immortality. Pathetically desperate. Cried about her poor granddaughter, who’d be all alone if she passed, but the truth is that she saw death in the mirror every morning, and would do anything to stop it from coming.” He smiled, showing his teeth. “So I helped.”

“You killed her. After you made her finger Shanahan-”

“Enough of this, Mrs. Danvers. I’m not fool enough to fall for distraction tactics. You can talk, if it makes you feel better, but it won’t help.”

Distant running footsteps sounded before I could answer. The bowler-hatted man? I sampled the air to be sure.

After his second death, he was ripening nicely. Not falling apart-if he could run-but decay was setting in. Kill him a third time, and he’d skid into living death, like Rose. Good.

The footfalls slowed at the end of the alley. Then they stopped. Hull frowned, and opened his mouth to call out. The zombie turned the corner. The skin around his mouth and nostril had blackened and that left arm seemed to swing a little too freely as he moved.

“There you are,” Hull said. “A little the worse for wear, but we’ll get that fixed up soon enough. Now, I want you to harvest a few items from the vampire. Then we’ll hide the corpse, so I can return later and take more. I hope you remember your anatomy lessons.” Hull chuckled. “Seems they’ll be useful for more than playing…” He cocked his head and looked at me. “What did they call him? Ah, yes, Jack the Ripper. Nasty fellow, I’m sure. But I owe him a debt of thanks. He’s been most helpful, whoever he was.”

That’s why I hadn’t found a third scent with the zombies after the Ripper-style killing. There hadn’t been one. As I’d guessed from Hull’s words in the forest, it had been the bowler-hatted zombie, following the recipe of a long-dead killer.

A hundred and twenty years ago, Hull had used Ripper panic to safeguard his portal letter. Now, he’d used it again, to try to panic us and convince us that I was the target, and needed to be taken off the streets and secreted away with him while the others tracked this new threat.

The zombie had stopped in front of Hull, head drooping and swiveling. Was something wrong with his neck? He looked confused, almost lost.

Hull sucked in his breath and glared down at Nick’s unconscious form. “Had to hit him in the head, didn’t you? If-”

The zombie lurched forward, like a stalled motor jumping to life. He walked over to the knife and scooped it up.

“Good,” Hull said. “That’s it. She’s right over there, behind you.”

The zombie turned. He looked at Zoe’s body, but his brow knitted, as if confused by what he was seeing.

“Yes, that’s her. Now-”

The zombie turned back to Hull, head bobbing, brow still furrowed.

Hull let out a hiss of frustration. Something moved at the far end of the alley. Jaime had come out and was standing with her back against the wall. I gestured for her to get back before Hull saw her, but her eyes were closed, squeezed shut. Her face was ashen, almost glowing in the moonlight, shiny with sweat. Eyes closed, concentrating so hard she was sweating…

My gaze swung back to the zombie, who was tottering there, confused. Confused by a conflict of commands. A conflict of control.

But that couldn’t be. According to the stories, a necromancer couldn’t control someone else’s zombies.

The zombie lunged at Hull, knife flying. Hull fell back, already casting. Casting a spell at the zombie. Protecting his own life. Mine forgotten. Nick’s forgotten.

I saw my chance…and waited. Attack now, and all he had to do was redirect the cast my way. The last words left his mouth and the zombie fell back, then I flew at Hull.

I hit him in the side. As we fell, I grabbed for his hands. I caught the right one, but my fingers only brushed the left. He cast a knockback spell, the best he could manage when he was low on power. It still hit me like a blow to the solar plexus. Any other time, I wouldn’t have let go, but my brain screamed “the babies!” and my hands shot to my stomach.

Before I could grab Hull again, he backed up, putting distance between us as his hands lifted, starting a fresh spell.

The bowler-hatted zombie struggled up, knife in his grip. Hull looked from him to me, hands hovering, spell uncast. Only enough power to repel one of us. Which to choose-the knife-wielding zombie or the pissed-off werewolf? Before either I or the zombie could take advantage of his hesitation, Hull made his choice…and bolted.