“They didn’t close Madigan’s old facility. They moved it lower.”

Eight

My friend Vlad once told me that soundproof didn’t mean mindproof because telepathy travels through even the thickest walls. Case in point: Whatever government official that had secretly backed Madigan after Don fired him had been careful. Even with a vampire’s supernaturally sharp senses, nothing visible or audible gave a hint that the former laboratory was still in operation, albeit four stories beneath its original location. Only my and Bones’s ability to read minds clued us in; though if not for him, I might have missed it anyway.

We followed the thoughts of an employee to the entrance of the facility, concealed inside the elevator of a parking garage two blocks away. Push one of the four buttons available, and you got the parking level indicated, but hold the first and third buttons down at the same time, then enter a code, and you went several stories below to a secret tunnel connecting the two locations.

Someone who’d put that much effort into concealment wouldn’t skimp on surveillance, so we didn’t attempt to apprehend the employee there. Instead, Bones waited across the street before following the blond, bespectacled young man after he climbed into his vehicle and drove off. Ian and I were on foot, stationed at opposite ends of the street. No matter which way the man turned, he’d pass one of us.

I got the lucky drive-by and made the most of it by breaking my heel and pretending to stumble into the street. The young man’s car screeched to a stop only inches from where I crouched.

“What the hell, lady?” he snapped, rolling down his window.

I kept my head lowered so that my hair concealed my face. Who knew if Madigan had circulated my picture to his employees?

“My ankle,” I said in a shaking voice. “I-I think it’s broken.”

A car horn blared behind him, and he made an exasperated noise.

“Broken or not, you gotta get out of the street.”

I rose, still keeping my hair in my face, and then crumpled with a fake cry when I put weight on my ankle.

“I can’t,” I wailed.

A few people watched from the sidewalk, but none of them offered to help me. God bless society’s indifference. If I hadn’t been blocking the road, Madigan’s employee would’ve been equally unconcerned, as his thoughts revealed, but I was an obstacle that needed to be removed. With a huff of irritation, he got out of his car and came toward me.

“Give me your hand, I’ll—”

That’s all he said before I hit him with my gaze, noting with relief that his eyes glazed over immediately. I’d been half afraid that Madigan had indoctrinated his employees against mind control by giving them vampire blood.

“Don’t speak. Get in the car, passenger side,” I said in a low, resonant voice as I climbed into the driver’s seat. The blond employee complied, sliding into the seat next to mine without a word.