“Remember, too,” I said, “that you can’t stop me from leaving this room right now and heading over there by myself.”

The darkness that was the virus sharpened significantly, but after a glance at Adam, he waved a hand and said, “Fine. Come with us. But you follow orders, understood?”

I nodded. “What about Frederick?”

“He won’t wake until I order him to,” Adam said. “And even if Rinaldo overrides that order, Frederick can’t escape because he’s strapped down.”

“He’ll be able to use magic once the drug wears off.”

“Undoubtedly,” Adam said. “But I don’t think he’ll get the chance. Rinaldo won’t risk his thrall talking.”

I hope he’s right, Jackson said. And I seriously hope that the rats are feasting on his flesh before death happens.

Jackson could, it seemed, do revenge even better than me.

He bent, picked up my shoes and then me, and said, “The stage is yours, Turner.”

Sam didn’t say anything. He simply spun and led the way out of the pump room.

And I crossed my fingers and hoped like hell that we were quick enough to catch the bastard.

CHAPTER 9

Risley Street was narrow and lined with warehouses on one side and a parking lot on the other. At the far end, there was a small park surrounding a high-rise building—community housing, I knew, having seen the ugly design in other inner-city areas.

Jackson and I climbed over the fence protecting the vacant lot opposite the park, then ran for the nearest building. I was once again wearing my shoes, but I’d burned a hole in the left one to take the pressure off my injured digit and, in case that wasn’t enough, was keeping it fire rather than flesh. If anyone happened to be looking our way, they’d catch little more than a flicker of light no bigger than a match flame. It was better that than being left in the car because I couldn’t damn well walk properly.

We pressed against the sidewall of a graffiti-covered building and peered down the narrow lane that divided the Risley Street buildings from those of the street behind it.

No cars, Jackson said. And no lights evident in any of the buildings.

I hope Frederick wasn’t feeding us a lie.

I doubt he was capable of even thinking up a lie, Jackson said. There’s another fence to climb—barbed wire on top.

I hated barbed wire. No matter how careful I was, the damn stuff always snagged either me or my clothes. Anything we can use to throw over it?

Nothing I can immediately see.

Well, fuck. I took a deep breath and released it slowly. I could no doubt melt the damn wire, but that might just give Rinaldo a warning that we were coming. Go. I’ll follow.