Chapter 8

We drove for nearly two hours with no more than a handful of words exchanged between us.

It seemed that my little bombshell that Killian had allowed me to be taken was enough to keep the two men quiet. Peter at least knew of Killian, how in the abnormal world, he was known for his sense of justice, and his willingness to fight for those who weren't strong enough to fight for themselves.

It was one of the things I loved about him, and the thing that hurt the most about him just letting me go without a fight.

"I'm not going back there," Peter said as we finally found a road with a sign pointing to the interstate.

"You want me to kill you?" Dinah asked. "If the time comes?"

He didn't hesitate. "Yes."

"Me too," Cowboy said.

Dinah grumbled. "Damn it, and who gets to kill me? Huh? Nobody ever thinks about the gun's feelings on this topic, do they?"

I laid a hand over her. "Do like Eleanor."

I'd had two guns at one point. Dinah and Eleanor. Eleanor had held the soul of my mother, and when she'd been forced to shoot at me, she'd deliberately backfired, killing herself instead of me.

A sigh grumbled out of her. "My point is that no one in the last year has so much as wiggled my trigger."

"You've misfired before." I put heavy emphasis on that one word. Dinah was not supposed to be able to shoot without having someone pull her trigger, but she was, for lack of a better explanation, trigger happy. She'd shot on her own enough times that I knew she could.

Another grumble, but she went quiet after that.

The clock on the dashboard said 10:01 p.m. There was no radio.

"There." Cowboy pointed at a sign as we came up to it. A hospital was a few miles away. "What do you think the chances are we can get in and out?"

I looked at him and shrugged. "Not bad."

"Liar." Peter laughed.

The silver-gray dog lifted her head to stare at the Magelore and let out a low grumble. I put a hand on her head, and she calmed immediately.

Cowboy cleared his throat. "I've tied her to you. She's not trained, but she'll always understand your commands. And she'll always come back to you. Even if something happens to me. She's your dog now, through and through."

I nodded. "Any idea on her breed?"

"Cane Corso, and pit bull, I think," he said, running a hand over her head. "She was used in dog-fighting matches. She's tough and had more than a little bit of a mean streak in her."

Peter barked a laugh. "A fitting pair."

I'd already surmised that much from the little I'd seen of her while I was down there. No one had been able to get close to her, and I wasn't sure why they'd kept her. She sure as shit wasn't a therapy dog. Then again, she hadn't been there long.

"They fed the bad ones to me," Peter said. "She can smell that I'm a predator. That's why she don't like me. That mush you brought me was bullshit, but they never told you that, did they?"

Now it was my turn to laugh. "I knew what they fed you when I didn't. The only reason I brought you that fucking mush was me trying to get through your thick skull to make you see we could work together."

I lifted a hand and touched the bite on my neck. It had healed, but I would always have a weakness for him now, for believing him. That was the way a Magelore worked, manipulating everyone around them.

"You really married?" I asked.

He nodded. "Yes. Though I've no idea if she'd still be waiting. Human, not abnormal." He shot a look at me. "Some of them have a thing for abnormals, turns them on."

I didn't care about that. "Don't call her. Don't think about going to her. Not yet. We don't know how tied your handler is to you still."

"I'm not a fucking moron," he growled. But I heard the defense in his voice. I looked at Cowboy.

"Same for you. No phones, no nothing. Not even your mother can know you are out."

"No one for me to call," Cowboy said flatly. "Family is all gone 'cept for a cousin that now I'm thinking might have got a payday for handing me over."

I stared out the front window and twisted the rearview mirror so I could check it every few minutes. Lights came into view and we were suddenly on the interstate with other cars around us.

"Two more exits, then the hospital," Peter said.

"Hurry," I said, rubbing at my neck. "They're on us already."

"Shit, can you see them?" Cowboy twisted around in his seat to look.

"No. But they are. I can . . . feel them."

They both looked at me, but neither questioned me. Because as weird as that sounded, it was our world. And I wasn't lying. There was a sense of being hunted that you only knew if you'd been hunted repeatedly. The tracers were already doing their job, almost humming under my skin, only for me it was everywhere. The hum was everywhere.

Peter took the exit we needed and drove quickly through a series of suburbs before the hospital came into view.

"Carlisle Hospital," Cowboy said. "Doesn't actually say where we are."

I snorted. "You didn't look at the license plates on the cars? We're in Pennsylvania."

Which was good, not too far from New York in the scope of things. I needed answers, and I was going to get them one way or another. I'd start at Killian's bar in New York to see if there was any clue as to where he'd taken Bear.

Peter pulled into a parking lot and we filed out. "Leave the windows down," I said, and looked at the dog. She needed a name.

"Wait. Guard," I said, and she sat and gave me a look that said it all. She thought it was foolish but would do as she was told. I smiled and tucked Dinah into the waistband of my loose uniform pants. At least the crappy clothes would help me blend in with the hospital staff. Same with Peter. Cowboy, on the other hand, looked like shit, his pants and shirt ripped and his wounds obvious.

"Follow me." I pulled Cowboy toward me, sliding his arm over my neck and mine around his waist. He startled a little but settled into letting me help him.

"You know where you're going?" Peter asked.

I didn't bother to answer him, and Dinah snickered. "He asks as if you've been here before. Shut up, Magelore, and follow the boss lady."

"She always this mouthy?" he muttered.

I smiled, and even if it was tight, it was at least real. "She's been nice, so far."

The doors to Carlisle Hospital slid open and we walked through. It was a big hospital, which would work in our favor. The staff in a smaller place would notice visitors, but in a bustling hospital like this, no one was likely to acknowledge that we'd walked through the doors.

I started to the left and the elevator bank that waited for us there. Peter kept up and the three of us—four if you counted Dinah—stepped in. A young doctor slid in as the doors closed.

"Oh man, almost got the pinch there!" He pushed up a set of glasses on his nose and straightened his overcoat. He had short dark hair and a smooth face that made me think he was barely out of his teens. Young, so young and fresh and he had no idea who and what he stood next to in the elevator. His nametag read Dr. Lee.

"I'm a new nurse," I said. "What floor is the X-ray machine on?"

"Oh, that's the subbasement. You're going down for that." He hit the appropriate button and flashed a smile at me. I made myself smile back.

"Thank you."

"No problem."

I waited for him to ask what we needed the X-ray for, but he didn't. I'd take a bit of luck thrown our way.

He got off on the third floor and then we were headed back down. The doors opened on our floor and we stepped out.

"I don't really need the help now," Cowboy said.

"It's part of the image," I said. "I'm a nurse, you're a patient."

"Sexy nurse helps wounded cowboy," Dinah mused. "Not as kinky as I like it, but sure, we could run with that show."

I rolled my eyes, but secretly had to fight a laugh. "I missed you too, Dinah."

"Bitch, you didn't have wax stuck in you for the last year," she said. "I've gotta make up for lost time."

"I had someone monitoring my every thought," I said. "I win the shit year award."

"Fine," she muttered. "You win this time."

Peter stayed close behind me, guarding our rear. I didn't look back at him. I didn't have to.

We were in this together, the three of us, for good or for bad, till death did we part.

That thought did make me smile, which was good since we'd reached the nurse's desk. She looked up as we drew close, and her smile answered mine.

"Which doctor sent you down?"

"Dr. Lee," I said.

She frowned as she looked over her paper. "I don't see it here. Maybe he hasn't had a chance to send the order down."

We didn't have time to sweet-talk her, nor did I have the inclination, so I moved around the desk and pulled Dinah out, pressing her against the nurse's back. "Move real quiet. You're going to help us run the machine now."

Her back stiffened and I helped her stand. She had boxed blond hair that wasn't fooling anyone with the dark roots, and her body was less than firm. Early fifties was my guess. I didn't hold those things against her, but they assured me she was no threat. No FBI agent in hiding. No monster in the closet.

"I can't do X-rays," she said. "We need a tech."

I motioned at her to pick up the phone. "So call a tech."

Peter took a step back and then another. "The elevator. I can jam it."

"Wait till the tech gets here," I said.

The nurse picked up the phone, her hand trembling so hard she could barely lift it. I watched her dial through and pressed the button to put the call on speaker phone. She swallowed hard.

"Easy," I leaned over to see her name, "Lacey. Easy. We won't hurt anyone, but we need the X-rays. Nice and simple."

She nodded jerkily, and the phone clicked through. She stuttered through her request for an X-ray tech to come down to the subbasement, but the guy on the other end didn't seem bothered. A few minutes later, he strode out of the elevator.

Older than I thought he'd be, the tech had the appearance of a grumpy old man who probably yelled at people to get off his lawn on weekends, and seemed irritated he'd been called to run a machine no one else could run. "Lacey, what kind of emergency is this anyway?"

Peter stepped in behind him and the sound of tearing metal ripped through the air. The tech turned and looked at Peter as the Magelore held out a handful of wires. "Consider it permanently parked."

"Block the stairs," I said as I turned toward the tech, touching his chest with the tip of Dinah's muzzle. "Name?"

He looked down at the gun and then back up at me, his eyes narrowing. "Carlos."

"Well, Carlos, today is your lucky day. You get to run three full body X-rays faster than you ever have before. Just for shits and giggles."

I moved him with a flick of Dinah, and for his age, he stepped fast. Perhaps it was the gun.

Worry that someone was listening to my thoughts, my words, itched at the back of my neck like an errant bug intent on burrowing under my skin, but I shook it off. "Cowboy, you first. Pete, watch the nurse at the front."

Pete gave me a nod and stayed out of the room.

"He needs to be naked," Carlos said as he set up the machine. "It'll go faster that way."

I stood between the two men as Cowboy stripped down to his boxers.

"Leave those," Carlos said, not an ounce of fear in him. Interesting. Very interesting.

I stood behind the screen, watching as X-ray after X-ray was taken. Five in all. Carlos was efficient, I'd give him that.

"You aren't afraid of us," I said as he started to pull the images up on his computer.

Carlos glanced at me. "You are abnormals, yes?"

I nodded. "Yes."

He blinked a few times, then wiped his face. "My daughter went missing six months ago. She moved like you, like a predator always on the hunt. Except the people she hunted were those who preyed on the weak, and she worked with the police. She would not just leave the way the police say she did."

The images flickered to life and he tapped the screen. "What are you looking for?"

"A small tracking device. More than one, likely," I said.

Carlos found the first one. "There. In the back of his left knee. A strange place."

"Hard to get out," I said. "It's inside the joint."

The other one was not so easy to pinpoint. "There, is that one in the soft tissue behind his right ear?" I touched the screen and the image magnified with one touch.

"Yes, that one could be removed easily." Carlos nodded. "You all have them?"

"No idea," I said.

I stripped off my clothes as Cowboy stepped into the room with Carlos. I handed Dinah to Cowboy. "Don't shoot Carlos. He's got a daughter like us."

Cowboy grunted and I made my way out to the padded table and lay down. Carlos moved around me, setting up the X-ray and the machine whirred to life. Click, click, click.

"Pictures are done," Carlos called out.

I sat up and went to the smaller room, scooped Dinah from Cowboy, and made my way back to the receptionist desk as I pulled my clothing back on. Peter sat at the desk, the nurse sprawled in his arms, blood running down her neck.

"Really? I said watch her, not eat her."

He grunted and rolled his eyes to me, eyes that widened as they took in my semi-bare-ass state. "You or her. Haven't eaten in a long time. Not properly. I'll be honest, you taste like honey."

"You hear that noise?"

"Hmm. Someone is banging on the door." He bent his head over her neck and she let out a long moan.

"Dude, this is not the time!" Dinah snapped.

"Don't kill her," I said as I strode by the desk toward the stairwell. The frosted glass in the door showed movement beyond it.

"X-ray machine, now!" I growled at Peter. "Or I leave you behind."

"Fuck," he growled, but he set the nurse on the floor and ran to the back room. I moved around the desk and did a quick search. The light blinked rapidly on the phone and I scooped up the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Lacey, what the hell is going on down there?"

"Well, we seem to have a stuck door and a stuck elevator. But we're all good. No patients down here, just me and Carlos." Lacey and Carlos, sitting in a tree . . .

"Jesus, we couldn't get through, we thought . . . there was a breakout at Clearview Rehabilitation Center, and they said three of the inmates were headed this general direction. It's all over the emergency alert channels on everyone's phones even so it's a doozy."

I sat in the chair, kept my voice smooth. "Oh, well, we're good. Just fix the elevator. I don't fancy doing stairs for the rest of my shift. I'm not as young as I used to be, you know."

The guy on the other end of the phone barked a laugh and hung up, but not before I heard him say, "They're all good. Just the usual shit with the maintenance on this place."

I'd noticed a TV behind the nurse's desk earlier, and a quick search produced a remote. When I flicked on the TV, Cowboy showed up next to me. "Find a news channel," I said.

He went through a few stations before he landed on something worthy of the word "news." An aerial shot of a chunk of forest panned over until it picked up a massive gray stone building, the same color as the walls I'd stared at for the last year.

"Turn it up."

A woman broadcaster's voice filled the room.

"According to officials, three inmates broke out of the maximum-security facility earlier tonight. Two deaths are being reported, one guard and one of the counselors."

Two pictures popped up on the screen, one of George smiling, holding up a drink with a hand he no longer had, and one of what must have been Eligor, though he was tagged as Dr. Ernest Snathy and looked completely different. Just a tallish man with a receding hairline and glasses.

"They are driving a dark blue truck, stolen from the Clearview Rehabilitation Center, and are considered extremely dangerous. If you see this truck," a perfect image of the truck we'd been driving flashed on the screen, "do not approach them. Call 9-1-1 immediately and stay as far away from them as possible."

"Fuck," Cowboy said. "We need to change vehicles."

"We would have anyway," I said.

Carlos and Peter came back into the room. Carlos stared hard at Lacey. "Is she alive?"

"Yes, but she'll have a real hangover tomorrow," Peter said.

Carlos flipped printouts of the X-rays onto the desk. "You two gringos, your cases are simple. Two tracers in you that I can see." He tapped the knee and neck on the X-rays of what I assumed were the two men. "You, though," he gave me a look and pulled my X-rays out, spreading them across the desk. "I have never seen so many."

"Holy shit." Peter leaned over the image. "Just in this one shot I can see twenty, maybe twenty-five."

Carlos nodded. "All her images are like this. You have one large one behind your ear like the other two, but that is a decoy, I think." Smart man. I agreed with him.

We had to fry the tracers, and we had to do it fast. There would be no getting the ones out of our knees. No way to get all of them out of me, assuming we even managed to start.

"Let me think." I stepped away from the desk, tapping Dinah against my leg as I walked down the hall away from the three men. "Dinah."

"Yeah?"

"Any ideas?"

She was quiet a moment. "If Killian were here, I'd say have him run you through with a bolt of electricity. But he's not, and the breakers . . ."

"They'll switch off before we get hit with enough juice to do the job. The EMP that Cowboy can produce is a possibility." I turned to look at Cowboy. "Think you can pulse enough juice through us to fry the tracers?"

He swallowed. "I can try. But I'm . . . it's like I'm blocked." He closed his eyes and after a tense minute that felt a hell of a lot longer where nothing happened, he shook his head. "I got nothing."

Damn.

I turned and paced toward the reception desk, past the dark rooms of what was essentially the guts of the hospital. The X-ray machine likely didn't bother the tracers.

A sign caught my eye and I stopped in front of it. Remove all metal piercings and jewelry. Alert technician to any metal pins you have.

I pointed at the sign. "Magnetic Radio Imaging. Would that work?"

Carlos hurried toward me. "This is a new machine, very powerful. We have not tested it on any RFIDs."

Cowboy looked at him. "What?"

"Radio frequency identification," I said, then looked at Carlos. "You test on them?"

He shrugged. "To make sure that the people tagged with them are safe when they go through. But that was the old machines. This one is higher tech and can give details the others couldn't."

"Magnetic interference could disrupt the guts of the tracers though, couldn't it?" I was nodding even as I asked the question.

Carlos puckered his face. "Yes, I believe this machine would do that. We have to keep all cell phones far from it. The few that have gone in the room by accident had their computers completely fried."

"Are you sure?" Cowboy pushed up beside me.

It was a childish question, and I refused to answer it. But I also refused to consider the possibility this wouldn't work. If it didn't . . . well, if it didn't, Dinah was going to have only a few last shots in her.

"Who is first?" Peter said. "I can handle pain, but if it's not going to work, I'm not doing it."

"Me first," I said. "You two next. Dinah, hang with Cowboy a bit," I said, handing her over.

"Only if he tucks me in his waistband. I'm betting on a tattoo on his ass," she snickered. I pushed the door open and they followed me in.

One way or another, we were stopping those bastards from the facility from following us.