Shadow Bound Page 0,57

Adam remembered that Talia had tried to warn him, and he’d dismissed her concerns. She didn’t know Spencer well enough to get his twisted humor. Turns out she knew Spencer better than he.

Adam had no weapons but the ones he and Custo carried. The tunnel escape plan, coauthored by Spencer, was lost as well. The implications were staggering. Any resource Spencer was privy to was now compromised, including the safe houses.

Adam ran a hand through his hair to pinch the tension contracting at the back of his neck.

“I don’t get it,” Custo said, defeat dulling his eyes as he came to the same conclusions. “Why don’t they just drop a bomb on us? Level the building and kill us all in one hit.”

“My guess?”

Custo shrugged, as if nothing much mattered anymore.

“Talia. They’re taking no chances with her life or they would have fired on the car. They want to extract her alive. They hunted her for months, lost her in Phoenix, and traced her to Segue. Hell, Spencer probably told them she was here. That was six days ago. More than enough time to clean out the supply room and mobilize an assault.”

Adam glanced at Talia. This was about her. There was no point in hiding the fact.

“You should trade me for safe passage,” she said. Her voice was remarkably even, curiously lacking emotion.

“No,” Adam ground out. Custo shook his head, too, but his jaw was tight.

“You said it yourself,” Talia insisted. “They probably won’t kill me or they would have by now.”

“Don’t you understand?” Adam said through his teeth. “This is The Collective—they will kill us anyway. They will control you. All hope whatsoever will be lost.” This should not be difficult for her, a woman of considerable intellect, to understand.

Adam had to think—to regroup. There had to be a way overlooked by Spencer. Spencer was good, but not creative. Overconfident. There were things he would have missed. The ducts, perhaps, or—

The floor buzzed beneath Adam’s feet. The vibration moved over his skin with a sudden terror. He knew the source: a great machine was retracting as a safety measure released.

A distant shriek echoed through the walls of Segue.

From below. From hell.

From Jacob.

The floor shook. Talia saw the lines of Adam’s face tighten, his color turn ashy, and she knew what it meant. There were monsters outside, and now a very motivated one inside. Jacob.

Adam’s expression focused, as if a line of thought were developing in his mind. He abruptly turned and coded into his office. Custo followed, pulling her with him, and propped open the door with a chair but blocked the others as they crowded beyond the door. Adam dropped his rifle on the small leather sofa to his right and typed madly into his computer.

Talia glanced at the monitor to the right of Adam’s desk. Jacob’s guards were strung up like macabre marionettes inside the cell they once guarded. Adam switched the image immediately to view a long, empty corridor. He looked over his shoulder at her, concern in his eyes.

Not necessary. Talia’s fear was still tightly packed into a knot of horror in the back of her mind. It wouldn’t bother her anymore. Patty had taken care of that.

Adam returned his attention to his computer monitor. “Elevators are still locked down. Coded security measures are still active.”

He stepped over to a tall cabinet on the other side of the room, jerked it open, and rummaged through long rolls of papers. He selected one, flicked off the rubber band, and unfurled it.

A strong wipe of his arm cleared the adjacent work space. Files, papers, a laptop, and assorted flotsam fell to the floor, replaced with the curling page. Detailed plans of the building in delicate blue lines filled the white space, though the shapes of the rooms and corridors were not familiar to her.

“This is a blueprint of the hotel, not Segue. Spencer and SPCI were not part of the initial renovation of the building, so I’m hoping we can all slip by them and get to the garage. There are three cars left in there, though it will be a tight fit for all of us. The access road might not be blocked.”

Adam traced his finger along a set of narrow lines. “There is a God.”

Apparently the green parlor had an old, concealed service passage, now covered with drywall, from which it was possible to get out the west side of the building. Then they’d cut across the terrace, climb onto the roof of the