his body went rigid. Then Lucas’s arms encircled me. His heart pounded against mine for one-two-three beats before he patted my back and retreated.
“I’m sorry, I should have asked first,” I said, worried that I’d invaded his space and upset him somehow.
“You don’t have to ask first,” he said, his gaze settling somewhere beyond my shoulder. “I’m just . . . not used to that kind of affection, that’s all.”
With a pang, I realized just how much I had to learn about him. He’d let me in to a certain degree—I knew about his family; I’d met his brother; he seemed to want to take down his despicable uncle as much as I did—but clearly there was more beneath the surface. Things he hadn’t revealed to me.
At least not yet.
When we walked down the hallway past the other reading rooms, Lucas gave me a playful shoulder nudge, probably to erase any lingering awkwardness.
“I think our next stop should be a fast-food place,” he said. “I’d hate for my growling stomach to interfere with our investigation.”
“Sure, I could go for a burger and fries,” I said, smiling at him.
“It must be nice, being immune to all the health risks associated with trans fats and high fructose corn syrup.”
“Yup. One of the many wonderful benefits of being made in a lab,” I said, and then winked.
Lucas grinned, and the weirdness vanished. As we made our way toward the lobby, we started talking about how to approach Sonja . . . at least until a bright flash of red behind my eyes made speech and movement impossible.
EIGHT
I couldn’t even draw a breath. Beneath the stammer of my heart, there was a faint, yet totally foreign pulse of energy, growing stronger with every second I stood frozen in the library hallway. The red behind my eyes flashed in time with the pulse, forming a single synchronized beat.
In my mind, I saw pieces of my body disintegrating in an inferno that took out entire city blocks. Bodies of innocent victims splayed across the ground, covered by piles of rubble.
The trigger. It must have activated.
Lucas grabbed my wrist. “Mila? What is it?”
Even if I could speak, I had no idea what to say. If I told him the truth, he’d want to help me get away, and I couldn’t risk that. As the hypnotic pulse spread throughout my body—up to my shoulders and down my arms—I thought about how I could ditch him, calling on my sensors to come up with escape routes.
But instead of responding with options, my mind filled with a strange alert that I’d never seen before.
Incoming message.
Before I could determine the type of message or mode of transmission, another alert appeared.
Download commencing.
Hologram projection in 1 minute.
Advise accessing a secure viewing location.
The pulse now funneled directly into my right hand and created an icy numbness. Then the end of my middle finger began emitting blue light.
The truth dawned on me. The detonation trigger hadn’t been activated. No, something else was happening, but that realization provided small comfort.
Not when I remembered Three, and how her finger looked, right before—
Lucas positioned himself in front of me. “What’s happening?” he whispered, trying not to draw attention.
“Holland.” I clasped my hands together in an effort to hide the evidence.
Lucas squeezed my arms. “He tracked you?”
But there was no time to explain. The clock was ticking and I had to find a hideaway before my cover was blown.
Staff-only rooms: 3.
Human targets detected: 7.
Supply rooms: 5.
Human targets detected: 0.
Supply rooms for the win. There was one on the floor below us, next door to the microfiche area, which probably didn’t see much traffic these days.
“This way,” I said.
Forty-five seconds left until the message was broadcast. We needed to move quickly without looking like two teenage book thieves on the lam. There were people all around us, so we had to balance speed with caution.
We speed-walked toward the nearest stairwell, Lucas limping under the weight of his laptop bag and the worry he must be shouldering, given how little he knew about this latest danger. Once the heavy metal door shut behind us, we bolted down the stairs, Lucas trailing but keeping up the best he could.
With twenty seconds left, we hurried down the hall in search of the supply room. I put my non-numb hand on the doorknob and twisted while my other balled into a fist. The entire thing tingled now, and my finger glowed even brighter. I tried to open the door, but . . .
It was