Sarelle... lost to the lessers now, too. Lost before he had really known her. Zsadist was going to try to get her back, but who knew what would happen?
John pictured Wellsie's face and her red hair and her little pregnant bump. He saw Tohr's brush cut and his navy blue eyes and his broad shoulders in black leather. He imagined Sarelle poring over those old texts, her blond cap of hair hanging forward, her long, pretty hands working the pages.
The temptation to start with the tears again rose, and John sat up quickly, forcing the urge to level off. He was through with the crying. He would not weep again for any of them. Tears were utterly useless, a weakness not worthy of their memories.
Strength would be his offering to them. Power his eulogy. Vengeance the prayer at their graves.
John got off the bed, used the bathroom, then dressed, slipping his feet into the Nikes Wellsie had bought for him. Within moments he was downstairs, going through the secret door that led into the underground tunnel.
He walked quickly down the steel labyrinth, eyes straight ahead, arms swinging in a soldier's precise rhythm.
When he stepped through the back of the closet and out into Tohr's office, he saw that the mess had been cleaned up: The desk was back where it had been before, and the ugly-ass green chair was tucked in behind it.
The papers and the pens and the files and everything were tidied up. Even the computer and the phone were where they should be, though both had been broken into pieces the night before. They must be new ones...
Order had been restored, and the three-dimensional lie worked for him.
He went to the gym and flipped on the cage lights in the ceiling. There were no classes today because of everything that had happened, and he wondered with Tohr gone whether the training would stop altogether.
John jogged across the mats to the equipment room, his sneakers smacking against the tough blue skins. From the knife cabinet he took out two daggers and then snagged a chest holster small enough to fit him. Once the weapons were strapped on, he went to the center of the gym.
Just as Tohr had taught him, he began by lowering his head.
And then he palmed the daggers and started to work them, clothing himself in anger against his enemy, picturing all the lessers he was going to kill.
Phury walked into the theater and took a seat in the back. The place was crowded, chatty, filled with young twosomes and legions of frat boys. He heard hushed voices and some that were loud. Listened to laughter and candy getting unwrapped, and slurping and munching.
When the movie came up the houselights dimmed, and everyone started yelling out lines.
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He knew when the lesser approached. Could smell the sweetness in the air, even through the popcorn and the girlie perfumes emanating from the dating pairs.
A cell phone appeared in front of his face. "Take it. Put it up to your ear."
Phury did and heard harsh breaths on the line.
The crowd in the theater yelled, "Damn it, Janet, let's go screw!"
The lesser's voice came from right behind his head. "Tell her you're going to come with me without a problem.
Promise her that she'll live because you're going to do what you're told. And do it in English so I can understand you."
Phury spoke into the phone, the exact string of words he used unknown to him. All he tracked was the fact that the female started sobbing.
The lesser yanked the phone back. "Now put these on."
Steel handcuffs dropped in his lap. He cuffed himself and waited.
"You see that exit to the right? That's where we're headed. You're going first and there's a truck waiting just outside. You're getting in the passenger-side door. The whole time I'm right behind you with the phone to my mouth. You fuck with me, or I see any of your Brothers, and I'm going to have her slaughtered. Oh, and FYI, there's a knife at her throat so there's no time delay. We clear?"
Phury nodded.
"Now stand up and get moving."
Phury rose to his feet and headed for the door. As he walked along he realized he'd had some thought of coming out of this alive. He was vicious good with weapons, and he'd packed a few in hidden places. But this lesser was smart, hog-tying him, trapping him with