Gale Force Page 0,40

I was going to let go until I sensed he was more afraid of me than of the theoretical bad guys.

"Jo." David's soft voice. His hand touched my shoulder. "You don't have to kill him."

"Maybe not," I said. "But if he's one of them, it'd be a damn sight safer in the long run."

He didn't say anything. I could tell he'd dropped the veil concealing him from Antonelli, because Antonelli's mouth stretched wide, and he tried to croak out something that was probably a plea. His lips had gone the color of iron, and his skin looked dead and pale and rubbery.

He was about to lose consciousness, so I let him have a torturous, cruel gasp of air, loaded with O2. He gagged and pitched forward, openly weeping; he wasn't coming after me, that much was certain. He just wanted to live to get away.

But I didn't want him to get away. I let him have just enough oxygen to survive, not enough to get his arms and legs in any kind of working order. Then I picked up my purse and walked over to him, crouched down to where he was sitting against the wheel of the van, and pulled down my sunglasses to look into his eyes.

"What were you going to do to me, Lee?" I asked him. "Don't lie. It'll only make me angry, and you won't like what happens when I lose my temper."

I let him have more oxygen, just enough. I'd scared him, all right. I'd terrified him almost more than was strategically necessary, and I knew - again, in a detached, academic sort of way - that it might bother me later. Maybe it would bother me a lot.

Or - and this was a lot more worrisome - maybe it wouldn't bother me at all.

It took Lee six breaths before he was able to decide to choke out, "Going to kill you."

"Meaning, you're still going to kill me, or you were supposed to kill me?"

"Supposed to." His face contorted with effort, and he bared his teeth. "Going to."

I'd known that was a possibility, but somehow, it was very different hearing it. I glanced up at David. He was standing over us, quiet, but his expression . . . Antonelli was lucky not to be relying on his mercy. I might have developed a nasty streak, but I was the kinder choice between the two options.

"I guess I should give up on the friendship bracelets, " I said. "Good, I suck at crafts. So, I'm guessing all this wasn't your own brilliant idea. You haven't had an original one since you set your cat on fire in the second grade. Who sent you? Think hard, Lee. We're going into the final lightning round. If I don't believe you, the next breath you take could be water. Or cyanide. I just love chemistry."

He didn't want to talk, but self-preservation is a damn fine motivator. No matter how badass his bosses might be, they weren't here. I was. Like anyone else, Antonelli wanted his next breath to be sweet and life-giving, not foul and toxic. He knew better than to question whether or not I could do it.

"Sentinels," he croaked. "Want you dead. Paying cash."

"Hmmm. How much?" He looked at me as if I were totally crazy. I wasn't so sure he was wrong. "I'd like to know how much it was worth, stabbing me in the back."

"Five million."

I sat back, surprised. "Five million dollars?"

"I'd kill you for free," Antonelli muttered. "Bitch."

"Is that any way to talk to the person holding your oxygen tank?" I asked, and cut off the flow into his lungs. He choked and thrashed. "Oh, okay. I see your point. Five million is a lot of temptation. But I don't think it was the money. You might like me to think it was, but I think whoever sent you scared the crap out of you." I let him have an entire ten breaths of sweet, sweet air. He shook his head. "Come on, Lee. Please. I don't want to hurt you anymore. Just tell me who sent - "

I had no warning. Neither did Antonelli.

Some tremendous force slammed into me, throwing me facedown to the gravel path. I rolled, tossed my hair out of my face, and saw that David had also been driven back from Antonelli.

That was . . . almost impossible. Unless he'd been taken by surprise, by someone or something of nearly equal strength, it was very hard to knock