spoke, his slight Asian features angry as he held the pistol with both hands. Bullets couldn't get through the bubble - unless he dropped it. Clearly he thought I might be Al. Or not.
"No," he said in a clear Midwestern accent. "He can make himself look like her. I'm not letting him out until I hear him talk. I want to hear him talk!"
Knowing what would happen next, I checked the hopper of my splat gun and sighed.
"You are such an ignoramus," Brooke said impatiently, and gestured.
The big man in the lab coat reached for Lee, deftly smacking his arm away when Lee pointed the gun at him. Almost picking Lee up, the security guard shoved Lee into the bubble.
"Bitch!" Lee shouted, arms flailing as he hit the floor beside me, sliding clear through the bubble to collapse it. The pistol went off and ceiling tile pattered down as I scrambled to put my back to a wall, heart pounding and my gun moving. Three quick puffs, and two docs-in-a-box went down. I missed the one who had thrown Lee. He was good.
"Get her!" Brooke screamed, safe inside her little blue-tinted bubble.
Adrenaline surged, and I rolled. A sharp prick in my thigh iced through me, and I pulled a dart from it, tossing it aside. "I am not an animal!" I shouted, and plugged the last man right in the face with a sleepy-time potion. His eyes rolled up and he went down, but the damage had been done. What in hell? They didn't even use dart guns on Weres! I took a breath, holding it when the room spun. Oh God. They'd drugged me.
And suddenly, nothing much seemed to matter anymore. Damn, it was fast-working stuff.
My pulse slowed, and I blinked when the room tilted. "Good thing I'm on the floor," I breathed, seeing Lee across the room with his back to the wall and his gun still aimed at me. The kind with real bullets. Crap, who would he rather see dead? Al, who had enslaved him, or the person who'd tricked him into it? "I'd give anything for a dead man's float," I said, and his dark eyebrows rose. "You want a martini when we're done here?" I added, and his gun drooped.
"Rachel. Damn, girl. It is you. I thought they were lying. No hard feelings?" he said, glancing at Brooke screaming at the people on the floor to get up. "What the devil are you doing with Al's summoning name?"
His gun wasn't pointing at me, and I tried not to giggle in my relief. "Surviving," I said, rubbing my thigh to make it tingle where the dart had hit me, right through my jeans. "Or maybe, trying to survive. This isn't looking good right now."
He nodded, scuffing the bits of ceiling tile between us. The door was still closed. No one had come in, but they might if Brooke wouldn't shut up. "It was never anything personal, you know, between us," he said again.
Nothing personal? A spark of anger burst and fizzled as I remembered Kisten getting shot at Lee's house, and then Lee trying to sell me to Al. My leg quivered. The drug was shifting, becoming more potent. My hands opened, and my gun slid to the tile. I tried to grasp it, failing. If I hadn't been on the floor, I would have fallen. Blinking, I looked at Brooke, still fuming behind her bubble. If she stepped out, Lee might shoot her, and she knew it. But if she stayed in there, we'd simply walk out. Neener, neener, neener...
"I need... to know," I said, slurring. I tried to pick up my gun, but my fingers only pushed it around, and it scraped the tile sadly. "Does Al have anything on you at all? Do you owe him a cup of coffee? A stick of gum? Anything?"
Lee lifted his chin, hiding his panic at the memory of being Al's familiar. "Not anymore. The second he let go of my body, it was over. I'm no one's slave."
I managed a smile. "That's good. Good for you, Lee. You shouldn't let Trent push you around anymore either. You want to get out of here?" Crap. My ears were humming, and I couldn't pick up my damn gun. I didn't have the luxury of holding a grudge. "I need some help, Lee. Please. I got you away from Al. Sort of."
Glancing at Brooke, Lee shook his head. "Sorry, Rachel," he stated again. "You're too dangerous. Al follows