One day, I’ll get out of here, she thought. I can leave anytime I want.

That sounded uncomfortably like what addicts told themselves, now that she thought about it.

The ride down in the elevator was uneventful, but when she stepped off, she didn’t see Myrnin, or Oliver, or … well, anyone. Not right off.

Then she saw a Myrnin-shaped shadow over on the left side of the garage, standing next to a Morganville police cruiser. He was talking to someone.

Claire walked over, and Myrnin spun in place toward her. “Ah!” he said. “You’re here. Good.” He had that manic, frantic edge to him this time; she always dreaded when that happened. It made her very tired, and it was bound to be a sackful of crazy, whatever he wanted.

“Where’s Oliver?” Claire asked. Because he wasn’t here, although this had allegedly been all about the scary boss man. Hannah Moses was, standing next to the driver’s side door of the cruiser; she looked … remote was probably the best way to describe it. Closed off. “Don’t tell me he left. I didn’t take that long.”

“Yes, yes, Oliver,” Myrnin said. He seemed nervous to her. Oddly off balance, whereas Hannah just seemed—cold. Nobody was acting quite like they ought to, and for some reason, it rang an alarm bell, deep inside. “Oliver is over here. Come, he’s right over here.”

Claire took a step back instead of toward him.

She was too late.

Myrnin lunged forward, grabbed her with one hand over her mouth to trap her scream of surprise and the other around her waist to lift her, kicking, off the ground. “Shhh,” he whispered. “Claire, don’t. I promise, this is necessary. Trust me. Please.”

Hannah was opening the back of the cruiser. “In there,” Claire heard her say, over her own muffled shrieks. Myrnin slid in with her, keeping a tight hold so she couldn’t scream or struggle much. Panic was racing through her veins now, because this was wrong. Myrnin—there was a lot of crazy in Myrnin, but violence? Abduction? Not right. Not right at all.

And Hannah? Why was Hannah helping? Claire trusted her, absolutely trusted her. This … shook the world right out from under her feet.

Hannah slammed the back door and got in the front. “Keep her quiet,” she said. “I need to get us past the front lines. Once we’re out of here, it won’t matter.”

“I don’t prefer to do it this way,” Myrnin said. “I can make her understand. Truly.”

“In time, maybe, but we’re committed now. We don’t have time to sort out her questions. Oliver has the timeline?”

“Yes,” Myrnin said. “And I suppose you’re right. We can’t wait.” He looked down at Claire, who was staring up at him with horror and betrayal. And trying desperately to bite his hand. “I’m sorry, my dear. Just … relax.”

She didn’t. Couldn’t. She fought and fought, kicked the seats, shrieked, scratched, until finally, with a growl of frustration, Myrnin put his fingers to the side of her neck and pressed.