Embers & Echoes (23 page)

The apartment was lavish, and was the last thing that Ash would have expected to act as a detainment center for gods. It wasn’t a stainless steel cage but a warmly furnished penthouse, complete with sprawling crimson oriental rugs and a large dining room table. Then there was the enormous fish tank that took up the middle of the room, teeming with football-size tropical fish. There was even a room service cart—room service, in an apartment building!—abandoned next to the fish tank. Ash’s best guess: If you were a person with a lot of money who needed to disappear for a few weeks, but also wanted to live like a king under the protection of professional soldiers, this was where you paid a small fortune to hide out.

Or, Ash thought as she eased toward the archway that opened into the other half of the suite, where you paid a small fortune for mercenaries to keep an eye on a sedated but potentially lethal god.

Wes propped the unconscious guard against the wall and then locked the door behind them, but Ash’s curiosity propelled her across the room. Without waiting for him, she moved stealthily to the threshold between the dining room and the common area. She nearly yelled in horror when she came within sight of the scene in the den.

The god—for it was a “he”—dangled from the ceiling in what looked like something out of a science fiction movie. Fifteen, maybe twenty, thick cables snaked down from a steel contraption that was bolted to the ceiling. The cables wrapped around the god’s thick torso and neck like an overzealous anaconda. More cords sprouted from the bottom, connecting him to a similar steel device on the floor. In essence he was being suspended in place by a series of rubber bands.

Then there was the IV—a thick needle plugged into one of his forearms, both of which were strapped to his sides. The intravenous tube led to a column of liquid supported by a metal tower beside his “cage.”

But it wasn’t the horrific prison or the industrial-strength anesthesia that caused Ash’s heart to sear hot in her chest. It was the fact that she knew the Haitian thunder god that the Four Seasons had selected as their sacrifice.

Just seeing Ade like this brought bile to her throat. His eyes were closed in a sleep that was far from peaceful, while he dangled from the ceiling like a broken marionette. How had they even found him? Had they
kidnapped him from his native Haiti, where he was supposed to be helping his people rebuild after a devastating earthquake? Then smuggled him into Miami just like they had Rose?

Ash found herself wandering carelessly into the other room, but Wes slipped a hand around her waist and gave just the gentlest “Shh” into her ear.

On the other side of the room was, as Aurora had warned them, just one guard, who was deeply engrossed in the baseball game. He had his back to them, and he didn’t even stir until Wes was right behind him. By then it was too late. Wes wrapped his forearm around the man’s neck and tightened.

The guard started to flail, but rather than choking him completely, Wes cupped his free hand over the man’s eyes. “Sleep,” he whispered. “Sleep.”

The guard’s hands, which had been trying to pry Wes’s other hand away, dropped impotently to his lap, and his head lolled forward.

“Jesus, what are you, the sandman?” Ash said.

“One of the perks of being a night god. Only works on the weak and the willing.” Wes released his hold on the man’s neck, and the guard slumped sideways onto the couch.

Ash sized up the enormous guard that was now snoring soundly on the couch; he didn’t look too weak to her, at least physically. “That guy was
willing
to lose consciousness?”

“His survival instincts probably reminded him it was better to sleep on the job than fight a losing battle with my arm and die of asphyxiation.”

Ash wanted to ask him how he’d even figured out he could do something like that, but seeing Ade wrapped up in the machine distracted her. She reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from his face.

“I take it you know this guy?” Wes asked. “You must be really popular among the gods.”

Ash scowled at him, sensing the acid beneath his words. This was the wrong time and place for jealousy to rear its head. “A good friend from school. His name is Ade, and he’s a Zulu thunder god.”

Wes crossed his arms and examined the device that Ade was cocooned in. “They weren’t taking any chances with your friend, I guess.”

Ash plucked at one of the cables. Despite its metallic appearance, it was elasticized. When Ade bobbed up and down in the harness but didn’t wake up, Ash suddenly got it. “Much as I hate them, can’t say I’m not impressed. This whole thing is like the shocks on a car—meant to absorb any vibrations in case he starts to quake in his sleep.”

Wes whistled. “So they put the thunder god in a big Slinky?”

“To keep the neighbors oblivious, or, knowing Ade, the whole city block.” Ash gently withdrew the IV needle from Ade’s flesh, and a drop of greenish liquid spilled
onto the carpet. The cables holding Ade in place held fast against her tugging.

Wes reached down and yanked the same cord. With just a little bit of oomph, the cable came free in his hand.

“Show-off,” she muttered. “You’re in charge of getting my friend down. I’ll stand watch.”

Starting with the bottom, Wes ripped out the cables one at a time as though he were plucking weeds from a garden. Meanwhile Ash wandered over to a wall hanging that was rippling even though there didn’t seem to be a visible air vent or open window nearby. When she passed her hand over the cloth, she could feel a cool draft blowing through the weave. She pulled the tapestry aside.

Behind the wall hanging was a door constructed of steel mesh, like the doors to an old-fashioned elevator. Through the mesh she could see a stairwell on the other side. Ash unlatched the lock and folded the door open. “I guess a syndicate safe house wouldn’t be complete without its own secret exit,” she said.

“At least we know how they got your friend up here in the first place,” Wes said. “Though the bored concierge downstairs probably wouldn’t have looked twice if they’d dragged an unconscious 250-pound thunder god through the lobby and into the elevators.” With a grunt Wes ripped free the final two cables at once and caught Ade in his arms.

It wasn’t a second too soon. Someone was rattling the safe house’s locked front door, then pounding when
it wouldn’t open. “Lorenzo,” a man’s voice shouted. “You know you’re supposed to keep this door unlocked!” More rattling, more pounding. “Lorenzo, answer me, damnit!”

Wes slung Ade across his shoulders in a fireman’s carry, and Ash shoved them through the secret door and into the stairwell. He turned and waited for her, expecting for her to lead the way.

But Ash grabbed the mesh door and slammed it shut from inside the apartment. While Wes watched in confusion, she used the heat from her hands to weld the door shut.

Wes shrugged Ade onto one shoulder and used his free arm to tug at the door from the other side. “Ash, what the hell are you doing?”

Ash’s eyes grew teary just seeing Ade so vulnerable, knowing that he’d been just days away from execution. “You may be a superman with the sun down, but the boy slung over your shoulder isn’t. This isn’t his fight. Thirty-eight flights of stairs is going to take even you some time to travel down. So I’m going to give you a head start.”

The pounding on the front door intensified, and Wes smashed his fist against the metal. “Damnit, Ash. I
will
break this door down. Those guards may not be fireproof, but you aren’t bulletproof, either. We can all make it.”

“Wes, this sacrifice could have been you if I hadn’t stumbled upon that boat Tuesday night. Now it’s one of my best friends, and . . . I don’t have many of those
left. I’m done pretending this isn’t personal.” She touched his knuckles that were blanched white from gripping the steel mesh and let just a lick of warmth touch his skin reassuringly. “You have thirty-eight floors. Get moving.” With that, she pulled the tapestry back over the escape door.

By now the guard at the front door had returned with the keys. Ash could hear him madly trying them in the dead bolt to see which one would work. Ash started across the room, hoping to surprise him when he entered, but he burst into the apartment when she was only halfway to the door. She spun quickly and tried to look busy with the fish tank.

“Who the hell are you?” the guard barked.

Ash tried to assume her best innocent “This isn’t what it looks like” face when she turned around. “I’m with aquarium services, here to clean your fish tank, and . . .” She stopped talking when she saw the guard’s face. It was the same man-boy she’d kicked in the head three nights ago on the deck of Lesley’s ship.

“You?” he said. He reached up and tenderly touched his mangled nose, which was in a splint.

“Shit,” Ash said. “Just my luck they didn’t fire you after Tuesday.”

The guard’s spell broke, and he reached out for the gun at his side. Ash panicked, and in the heat of the moment, she went for the only cover in sight. She seized the edge of the tall fish tank and pulled herself up to the rim, intending
to hurdle over to the opposite side. Her leg, however, got stuck in the process. As a result her body flopped into the water and dropped like an anchor to the bottom.

A piece of coral ripped into her shoulder, but she barely had time to process the pain, because there was a sharp crack from the guard’s gun, muffled by the water around her. Her eyes shot open in time to watch the blur in the water as a bullet torpedoed past her face.

The wall to the fish tank exploded under the impact of a second bullet. Ash rode the cascade of water and glass out onto the red carpet. Through her water-blurred eyes she saw the guard’s arm twist around to line up a shot. He wasn’t taking any chances.

Ash palmed a handful of the water that was still pouring out onto the carpet. She ignited her hand and slung the water into his face at the same time. It turned to steam by the time it hit him square in the eyes, and he erupted in a series of high-pitched shrieks.

Ash rose up out of the water and cracked him in his already broken nose. He fell flat onto the carpet with a heavy squish, landing in a bed of fish tank debris, including the poor aquatic casualties of the firefight, which were now drawing their final breaths on the carpet.

Footsteps rumbled up the hall. Ash slammed the door closed and threw the dead bolt just before the other sentries from the next room could get inside. She scooped the gun off the waterlogged carpet.

Without any keys the guards outside began to shoot
at the lock on the door. Apparently they weren’t concerned about noise complaints from the neighbors. Ash scrambled across the room, heading for the secret metal door. With any luck Wes had had enough of a head start with Ade that the hidden stairwell was okay to use. She reached out to pull aside the tapestry so she could melt her way through the door.

Then, over the gunshots at the front door, she heard more footsteps. These ones coming up the stairs. She backed away from the tapestry just as a new set of guards began to pound on the metal door.

With no exits left, Ash ducked behind the broken fish tank’s wooden base. Keeping her back pressed against the new cover, she whipped out her phone and speed-dialed Aurora. She hit the speakerphone button and dropped the phone to the ground so she’d have both hands free.

The phone rang twice before Aurora’s voice crackled from the speaker. “Ashline? Where the hell are you?” Rain spattered the receiver on the other end.

“Trapped in the penthouse, and I have two very important questions to ask you.” Ash held the gun up in front of her face. Even though she had no intention of actually shooting anyone, the sound of gunfire was something the guards would recognize and hopefully fear if she needed to buy herself time.

“I’m listening,” Aurora said.

“First, how much weight can those wings of yours support?” Ash asked. “Another person?”

Behind her a final gunshot took care of the lock, and the door splintered in after several kicks. Just as the door burst open, Ash popped up over the base of the fish tank just long enough to fire a wild warning shot. It splattered the wood of the door frame, and the point man ducked back out into the hall. Ash dropped back into a sitting position as a barrage of gunfire from a semiautomatic drummed against her cover.

“Is that gunfire?”
Aurora yelled.

“Yes or no, Aurora?” Ash shouted back.

“I . . . I don’t know,” Aurora said.

“Good enough,” Ash said. “Second question—I need to know how good your hand-eye coordination is. Did you ever play any sports where you had to catch something?”

There was a long pause, then Aurora stuttered, “Oh, n-no. Ash, you’re not thinking of—”

Whatever Aurora said next was drowned out by a wave of cover fire. Ash could hear the heavy footsteps of the point man as he dashed into the room and dove for cover somewhere near the entrance, probably behind the dining table. Ash fired another two bullets over her own cover to warn them, but a teenage girl wielding a pistol wasn’t going to keep away a roomful of trained mercenaries for long.

“Look for the broken window,” she instructed Aurora. “I’ll see you in ten seconds. Have faith.” On the other end it sounded like the cell phone clattered to the rooftop.
Ash hoped that meant Aurora had understood the message loud and clear.

This was going to take more courage than anything else she’d done in her life. Ash reached out to the room service cart and ignited the white tablecloth with the hottest blaze she could. Within seconds the cart had transformed into an inferno. Ash mustered all the strength she had left and shoved the cart. The fiery vehicle rattled across the wet carpet on a collision course for the front door, just as a second syndicate member was trying to slip inside.

With the guards hopefully distracted, Ash fired one last bullet—this one intended for the balcony window. The whole pane shattered, and a torrent of rain and wind was sucked through the opening and into the apartment.

Keeping her whole body low to the ground, Ash sprinted across the floor. She dashed over the broken glass onto the outdoor balcony.