far enough ahead of them when he gets close. We’ll need at least ten minutes to safely drop the shields and get them back up. And even then, I’d need Dom’s authorization code.”
If Dom hadn’t been able to get far enough away from the Darkbloods chasing them the other night to uncloak the place, there was no way Corey would be able to do it in his piece of shit commuter car. She’d have to figure out a way to stall them. The beginning of an idea brewed in her head.
“I’ll be in touch,” she said and slammed down the phone.
She rubbed her temples when she felt a slight vibration inside. Dom.
It’s the only way. He’s my brother, Dom. I can’t just stand by and let him be captured by those monsters like our father was. I love you. I’ll be careful, I promise.
She wasn’t sure how much of her thoughts he’d be able to pick up on from this distance, but what she did know was she needed to get the heck out of the loft before Dom was able to contact Cordell. He’d likely give him instructions to lock her up again, then her brother, with no one to help him, would meet with the same fate their father had. And Stacy. And Martin.
After double-checking that she had Cordell’s number on speed dial, she ran out of the loft and took the stairs down to the building lobby, not wanting to wait for that ridiculously slow old elevator.
“Corey, how are you doing?” she asked as took the stairs down two at a time. “They still behind you?”
“Yeah. They dropped back a little, but they’re still there.” He sounded more confused than worried, but at least he was doing what she’d told him.
“Where are you?”
“Going past Fife.”
Damn. Still too far away. She startled the security goon at the front desk when she flew into the lobby.
“Wait, wait,” he yelled.
She ignored him and ran for the exit. As she burst through the door onto the sidewalk, a shock of static electricity shot through her body. “What the—” She spun around, but the door she’d exited through was gone. All she saw was the side of a building.
OUTSIDE HER HOUSE, the street looked quiet enough, but she asked the taxi driver to circle around to the alley just to make sure. Except for Mr. Marsh’s beat-up green Mustang propped up on jacks and the iridescent eyes of a cat on the prowl, the taxi’s headlights illuminated nothing else. She paid the driver and climbed out, but when she turned to ask him to wait until she got inside, he drove away, oblivious to the fact that she hoped to God a pair of Darkbloods weren’t lurking around for her. Pulling out the specially loaded Ruger from her purse, she took a deep breath and watched the taillights disappear around the corner. The textured grip fit tightly in her palm, giving her some measure of comfort.
Yes, I can do this thing. I must. Now hustle. Get in, get out, get Corey.
If only it wasn’t so dark. She stepped onto an overturned milk crate and reached over the ivy-covered fence to unlatch the gate. Neighborhood kids must’ve busted out the bare bulb on the Marshes’s toolshed again. The gate clicked shut behind her and a lonely-sounding dog barked in the distance.
All the lower windows of her house were black, but when she noticed the dim glow of the upstairs hallway light through the curtains, her heart stuttered with panic. It was the light Sam always left on. Crap, she wasn’t home, was she? Mackenzie had gotten so used to Sam staying over at her boyfriend’s place, sometimes she forgot she even had a roommate. Okay, whatever. She’d be in and out so fast it wouldn’t matter.
She fumbled with her keychain, trying to find the large, oval-shaped key that unlocked the back garage door, when a sudden thought nagged her. What if Sam’s loser boyfriend was staying here tonight? What if Sam hadn’t dumped him after Dom beat the crap out of him? Sam had never brought him here before, but still… Even if the guy wasn’t a loser, he was still evidently a vampire and Mackenzie was still Sangre Dulce. She gripped the gun tighter. Nothing she could do about that. She’d deal with it if she had to. All that mattered was Corey. With the key in her left hand, she awkwardly reached for the lock.
Branches rustled behind her. A twig cracked.