The Hunt - Megan Shepherd Page 0,84

grab her,” Cora hissed. “She’s drugged. She can’t hurt you.”

“Famous last words,” he muttered, then took a deep breath like he was diving underwater, and threw Anya over his shoulder. Her head pitched back, lolling; her eyes were glassy.

“We’ll sail to a different world,” she said into Cora’s head.

Leon fumbled to snap the shackles on Anya’s hands, as much for show as to protect themselves from her. “Let’s get out of here.”

They hurried back to the entrance. Cora wondered how sane Anya really was beneath the drugs. That tear in her own mind felt suddenly more painful. She pressed a hand to her nose, trying to stave off the blood, as she focused on the blue sensor to open the door.

It slid open—and the female guard was on the other side.

She blocked the exit, as though she had been waiting for them. Her face was a mask of passivity as she slowly cocked her head, eyes focused on Anya.

Leon had been right—it had been too easy before.

Luckily, he didn’t break character now. With his free hand, he held out the removal pass.

The guard took the pass, studying it closely, and then scanned it to log the visit. It seemed to satisfy her, and she stepped back to allow them to enter the hallway. Cora closed the door behind them, keeping her face calm, so the guard would think Leon had done it. As they walked away, she could feel success with every step. Ahead, just around that corner, they’d slip back into the walls and be safe.

Then the guard said something in Kindred.

Cora froze. Leon did too.

Cora frantically tried to probe the guard’s mind. When she’d read Cassian’s thoughts before, it hadn’t mattered what language they’d been in. But all she came up with now was a cold, suspicious feeling. Panic started to seep into her, but Leon remained calm. He gave a noncommittal grunt like she had heard the Kindred do, and started walking again with authority.

One step.

One more.

The guard spoke again, sharper. Out of the corner of her eye, Cora glanced at Leon, wondering if they should run for it. The Kindred were so fast that it would take a miracle to get to the drecktube in time. There was the gun, but that was only a bluff.

They turned slowly. The guard was facing them, and she didn’t look pleased. She wore an intercom on her wrist—she could have twenty more guards there in seconds.

The guard took a step closer, head moving in measured jerks between Leon and Cora. There was nothing they could do; there were no words to answer her. Cora glanced at Leon; sweat was trickling down his face. At the same moment, the guard noticed.

Leon broke character. “We’re screwed!”

The guard reached for her wrist intercom. Time seemed to slow. Cora twisted the shackles, but it was useless. There was no stick to drive through her eye. She spun on Leon. “Run, now! Take Anya—I’ll hold her off.”

“Like hell,” he said.

Cora was about to throw herself at the guard when a blast of sound fractured through the hallway. She cried out, and Leon cringed. A gunshot? She twisted around to see Leon’s holster—empty. Where was the gun? Another shot rang out, and the Kindred doubled over. Cora looked around frantically. Her hands were empty. So were Leon’s. So were Anya’s; she was still slung over his shoulder, delirious.

Who was firing the gun?

And then she saw it. Hovering in the air four feet off the ground. Still aimed in the direction of the guard, who had collapsed.

Cora jerked around to face Anya, with her drug-laced smile.

“Anya’s doing this,” Cora choked. “She’s doing it with her mind!”

The floating gun started to aim at the crouching guard again, but Cora reached out and plucked it from the air. The smile on Anya’s face fell.

“That’s enough,” Cora said. “Leon, move!”

They raced down the hallway. The gun felt warm in Cora’s hand. She’d never imagined power like that. Levitation. Even making it shoot—that was so far beyond her own abilities that she’d thought it impossible.

They raced around the corner to the drecktube. Leon climbed in and dragged Anya in like she weighed nothing.

Cora stuffed the gun in the strap of her dress.

“Someone’s going to find that guard,” Leon said.

“Yeah,” Cora answered, still shaking, “But not until morning. We’ll be long gone by then.”

They started crawling. Leon seemed to know where he was going, which was good, because Cora couldn’t focus on anything. That tear in the back of her head