The Shadows (Black Dagger Brotherhood #13) - J. R. Ward Page 0,114

spotlit from the rear, and not in a good way. With two autoloaders in his palms, they were liable to think he was the goddamn problem, instead of the solution trying to catch up with his enemy.

Sure enough, a male voice projected out of a high-res speaker came down the alley. “CPD! Stop! Stop or we’ll shoot!”

God. Damn. It.

Humans: Nature’s remedy for an otherwise good time.

THIRTY-SIX

Back in his cell at the palace, iAm was busy wearing a track in the polished marble floor, going back and forth between that new bedding platform and the shelf of books.

The longer he was left by his little lonesome, the more he became convinced that the maichen had made the offer to get him to the healing texts out of an abundance of impotent compassion. But, hell, even if she had been serious and did show up again with some kind of plan, it wasn’t like he was going to accept her help. There were so many people sucked into this mess already, and he wasn’t sure she knew what she was volunteering for: He was a prisoner of the executioner’s, which meant even though many could have access to him, there was only one son of a bitch who had the keys to his escape.

And it was not that lowly female.

If she did spring him? Even if it was not to the great outdoors, but the library? The monitoring systems would surely report them both—and then sudden death would be the best outcome she could hope for.

What was more likely was a long, suffering period of torture during which she would pray to be—

As that panel slid open, he made sure his sex was covered and wheeled around.

It was the maid, and she had bolts of cloth in her hands. As the door slid back into place, she tucked something next to the jamb to prevent it from closing all the way and rushed over to him.

“Put this on. We have no time—”

“Wait, what—”

“Put it on! The security staff is changing shift and they are required to have a mandatory prayer of sorrow and remembrance for the infant. We have to get you down the hallways now—”

“I can’t let you do this—”

“You want help, right. For your brother’s love, right.”

iAm gritted his teeth. Rock, meet hard place. “Fuck!”

“I do not know what that means.”

He grabbed whatever it was out of her hands, but kept up the arguing as he threw the folds over himself. “What about the trip back?”

“I’ll create a diversion. You’re going to need some time in the library—unless you know exactly what you’re looking for?”

The heavy robing rushed down his legs. “What about in here?”

Without warning, the lights went out. “I activated the circadian system.”

Ah, yes, the alternation of light and dark without which you couldn’t sleep.

Click!

A tiny flashlight showed her the way to the bedding platform, and she quickly arranged the pillows and duvets such that it appeared there was someone in there. Then she ran back and put something up to his face.

Spritz!

He coughed as the heavy scent of lavender and something citrus-y shot into his nose. “What the hell—”

More with the spritzing. “That’s a maid’s uniform. No one will question if they happen upon the pair of us together, but your scent is too male. This should cover it up well enough for us to get by. Now crouch down—you’re too tall for the robe. We can’t have your feet showing or they’ll know. Come on.”

He followed her over to the panel, but before she could open things up, he grabbed her arm and spun her around. “You shouldn’t be doing this.”

“We don’t have time—”

“It’s going to get you killed.”

“Your brother needs help. For his mate. Do you have another solution for getting out of here to see those texts?”

When she went to turn away, he pulled her back. “What’s your name?”

“maichen.”

“No, that’s your station. What’s your name?”

“That’s it. Now, come—enough talk,” she said urgently. “And don’t forget to crouch.”

Just like that, he was out of the cell and into the hallway. As he looked left and right, she jabbed him in the side with her elbow.

“Crouch,” she hissed. “This way.”

Bending his knees, he hunched his shoulders and followed in her wake, trying to mimic her spare movements. She was fast and decisive through the corridors, taking lefts and rights in a sequence that rendered him so turned around he was lost in the maze. Incredibly, they ran into no one, but that was the nature of