Delinquents Turned Fugitives - Ann Denton Page 0,128

a ghost.

My mind went into overdrive. Claude had known at least one other ghost. He might have known how the process worked, that he had to attach his soul to something in order to become a ghost himself. That, or he might simply have been so obsessed with the serum and its effects that he’d tied himself to the first vampire to receive it. Was it because vampires were immortal? Was it because he thought that would give him the best shot at living forever? Or … or there was history between the two of them that I didn’t know about?

I had no idea. None of that mattered though.

What mattered was that it looked like they were bonded.

It looked like Claude had hitched his soul to Callum’s.

My hands shook.

What should I do?

Could I possibly take out Callum and Claude in one go? The silver knife in my boot felt hot against my skin. Tempting. Callum was cold-blooded. He condoned random murder. We had an alliance of convenience only.

Would taking him out be such a bad thing?

I licked my lips, which had grown dry as parchment, as I tried to decide.

But of all the moments in the universe, the memory of Potts chose this moment to appear. “You’re willing to make other people a means to your ends.” I could see the disappointment in her eyes and feel it all over again like a phantom pain.

I shook my head.

No.

I wasn’t like Muller.

I refused to be.

I lifted my hand and blasted the hallway with shadows, all the way from where we stood at the bottom of the stairwell to the other side of the building. It was blacker than a blink of the eye, dark and thick as paint.

I heard the metallic clang of a knife hitting the ground, a gurgle and spurt that sounded like a water fountain—sounded like, but wasn’t.

When I lifted my shadows, Claude had disappeared.

Muller was dead on the floor, a puddle of his own blood forming underneath him as his eyes stared unseeing at Callum’s feet.

My ally’s eyes met mine.

And somehow I thought he knew.

It felt like he knew my mind, knew what I’d realized … and what I’d chosen.

“Let’s get your brother,” he said, turning toward the steps.

“But the others …” I trailed off as the whirr of a helicopter overhead drifted in through the broken front door.

“No time,” Callum responded.

He hurried up the steps, barking at his vamps to hold still as he used his claws to slice through the rope that bound them. It still remained melded to their hair and faces, it still matted Evan’s fur, but once everyone was at least separated, we turned and went up the steps to the second floor. I had to walk carefully on the icy floor, around the frozen bumps and masses that used to be Pinnacle guards. One man had gotten his head free, but his face was blue … he hadn’t been fast enough to free his heart. Most of the others had hardly made a dent in their icy prisons before they’d succumbed to the elements.

I tried not to look.

When we got to Matthew’s door, tears filled my eyes.

Because we’d finally made it.

42

Malcolm melted the glass between the visitor’s section and Matthew’s as my heart thumped rapid-fire.

The walls seemed to lean inward and close around me as I walked forward to where Matthew snarled, chained in a corner. My freckle-faced brother didn’t look any better than the last time I’d seen him. He looked purely vampire, fangs and claws extended. There was no hint of a bat, which pissed me the fuck off, because Potts had promised to keep him hidden.

But either her illusion spell had worn off or she’d been too afraid or angry at me to keep her word.

I shook off my fury at the self-righteous counselor because it didn’t matter. Her cowardice saved me a step and now Evan, who had shifted but was still stuck with a net on his face, didn’t have to try to unravel a spell I’d only ever guessed at.

“Guys, hurry the fuck up,” Gray’s voice sounded strained in my ears and his mic picked up a whistling wind. “I can’t keep them off you much longer.”

“Got it. We’re at the target,” Malcolm responded.

“Hurry,” Gray repeated, grunting as he strained to do something.

I tuned him out, because the outside world didn’t matter just yet. Not until I got to do this one final thing.

My stomach churned with fear, pity, and the tiniest flecks of hope