of action before leaving the Vasics. I’d remembered what the gang punks in the alley had said on seeing us, which also reminded me of my own impression the first time Lucas showed up on my doorstep, clean-cut and funereally earnest in his department-store suit. With the right choice of clothes and a couple of books from Robert’s library, we were set.
Lucas and I gave Adam time to sneak around and cover the rear door, then we climbed the front steps. Lucas rang Weber’s doorbell. Two minutes later, a thin, dark-haired man answered. Weber matched his Cortez Cabal employee photograph, right down to the black shirt.
“Good morning,” Lucas said. “Do you know where you’ll be spending eternity?”
Weber’s gaze dropped to our Bibles. He mumbled something and tried to shut the door. Lucas grabbed the edge and held it fast.
“Please,” I said. “We have an important message for you. A message of hope.”
Now, we really didn’t expect Weber to let us in. My religio-babble was only intended to give Lucas time to ready his knock-back spell, which would send Weber reeling away from the door so we could get inside. But as the words left my mouth, Weber’s eyes widened.
“You’re the ones,” he said. “The ones Esus said would come.”
I blinked, but Lucas nodded and murmured an affirmation. Weber ushered us inside, then cast a nervous glance out the front door before closing it.
“Go on in,” he said, wiping his palms against his pants. “Sit down. Oh, wait, let me clear that chair. I’m sorry the place is such a mess. I’ve been—”
“Busy,” Lucas finished.
Weber nodded, head bouncing like a bobble dog’s. “Busy, yes. Very busy. When Esus told me…well, I wanted to run, but he said I shouldn’t, that it would only make things worse.”
“He’s right,” Lucas said.
“He’s always right.” Weber cast a nervous glance around. “He said it’s not safe here. He said you’d take me someplace safe.”
My gaze shot to Lucas, trying to gauge his reaction, but he gave none.
“That’s right,” Lucas said. “Just let me call our driver.”
Lucas reached into his breast pocket for his cell phone, to call the extraction team. Obviously Weber wouldn’t be comfortable talking here, so there was no use trying. Time to skip to the next phase and take him in for questioning.
Lucas only had time to press the first button when a sharp crack rang out, followed by a tremendous crash. A metal canister hit the floor between us. Lucas lunged, grabbing me by the shoulders and throwing us both to the ground. The canister began to smoke.
“Cover your—” Lucas began, but the sound of breaking wood drowned him out.
I turned to see the front door slam open and three men dressed in black barrel through. All three turned their guns on us, then disappeared as smoke filled the room.
They Always Grab the Girl
SOMEONE STARTED SHOUTING ORDERS, BUT I WAS DOUBLED over, hacking my lungs up, unable to hear anything but my own coughing. I pulled my shirt over my nose, but it didn’t help. My eyes teared up from the gas; between that and the smoke, I was blinded. Fingers grabbed my arm and tugged me forward. Trust Lucas to keep his calm, whatever the situation.
I stumbled behind Lucas’s dark shape. A doorway loomed before us. As we moved through it, the smoke lessened, but my eyes still streamed tears. I wiped my free arm across them. Lucas kept pulling me, presumably toward the back door and clean air.
“Paige!” Adam’s voice. Through the smoke I could make out his outline running toward us.
“Get outside,” I rasped. “It’s—”
He charged. The hand on my arm wrenched me backward. I tripped and spun to see that it wasn’t Lucas holding me. It was Weber.
I punched at Weber, but my fist glanced off his shoulder. His other hand sheared down. I felt something hit me between the ribs. Heard Adam’s bellow of rage. Lucaslunged through the door and cut Adam off in mid-charge. The stink of sulfur and burned flesh overwhelmed the fading smell of the gas. Lucas gasped in pain. I tried to wrench myself from Weber’s grip, but he held me fast.
“Nobody move!” Weber screeched, his voice shrill with panic. “I’ve got the girl.”
A split second of clear, if near-hysterical, thought. Of course he’d grab the girl. They always grabbed the girl. But why did I have to be the girl?
Then cool steel pressed against my throat, and I stopped thinking. The blade pressed into my throat, and blood trickled down my