The Escape (13 page)

“Emporium or Renegade?” Emerson asked.

I didn’t bother to hide my surprise. “You’re the first Hunter I’ve ever heard make a distinction. Unbounded are Unbounded, right?”

Emerson leaned back in his chair, his hands folded over his stomach. “Why don’t you tell me what happened last night?”

“We identified Emporium agents, who seem to also support the vice president. In fact, we witnessed a run-in they had at the hotel with agents we believe to be Renegades.” Nothing like a little truth to give credence to a lie. “We are now in the process of identifying any Unbounded who might be close to the vice president.” This last I added in case we needed help with Patrick Mann. For many years the Emporium had used Hunters against us. Maybe it was our turn to reverse the trend. As I finished speaking, I pushed harder at Emerson’s mind shield, having found no apparent hole. Nothing left but to use brute force. Harder, harder, I pushed until it crumpled and vanished. Not nearly as thick as most shields I’d seen.

“Ah, honey, thanks,” he said, as his wife and another woman I recognized from his mind as their live-in cook and housekeeper entered the room with trays.

“Never too early for croissants,” Charlaine said. “And you’ll have to try Josi’s coffee. Everyone loves it.” The women set down the trays, and Josi began pouring. There was a cup for Brody as well, which I thought was strange, despite the love of croissants prominent in his mind. Did bodyguards eat with their employers?

Concentrate,
I told myself. Back to Emerson, who didn’t touch his cup but was staring at Keene. I set down my coffee and laid my hands unfolded on my lap, my right just a bit closer to the top of my boot.

“Eat up,” Emerson invited.

“I’d really like to hear why you think there’s a difference in Unbounded,” I said as the others reached toward the plate of croissants. Emerson’s suspicion of Keene was clear in his mind, but Keene’s shield was up and strong, so I could only warn Mari without becoming too distracted.
He suspects,
I told her.

Crap.
She frowned at her croissant but didn’t look at me.

“I think KC here can tell us that,” Emerson said.

Keene’s eyes rose to his as Emerson smiled. I noticed one of Emerson’s hands was no longer on his stomach but had fallen to his side near his pocket where his thoughts told me he had a gun. Behind the couch, Brody stood ready, his hand moving toward his own weapon. Slowly, as if reaching for a mint.

Mentally, I reached for Mari.
Emerson has a gun. Can you take care of him when I tell you to?
Seated, he would be the weakest target, and I trusted Mari to be able to disarm him. We’d practiced a million times. Brody would be more dangerous. I didn’t even want to think about him getting a bullet into Keene.

“You see,” Emerson continued, “I’ve been doing a little research on you, KC, and discovered that while you’ve been involved in several Unbounded captures, only a few resulted in their deaths, and those were only Renegades, as far as I can tell. Is this a coincidence, I ask myself? I don’t think so.”

He hesitated before adding, “In fact, quite a few captured Unbounded have gone missing under your command, the last being at a raid here in New York almost three months ago. We lost one of our good operatives, and a new Hunter came back to us with no memory of the event.” His words were almost casual, but his mind screamed with accusations against Keene, whom he considered responsible for the crime.

Keene scooted toward the edge of his seat. “I asked your Hunters here for help because I wasn’t able to get to New York in time. I sent someone later for the Unbounded, and I can vouch that she and her human helper were taken care of. I’m sorry about your operatives, but we all know it’s a dangerous line we walk.”

“I don’t believe you.” Emerson’s pistol was in his hand now, though not in plain sight. “Not about that or about last night.”

Keene lifted the front of his T-shirt, revealing the bandages. “This is what those Unbounded bastards did to me last night, and regardless of the conclusions you’ve come to, this is why I’m going to work
against
the vice president. Something doesn’t smell right. He’s somehow connected with the Unbounded. I know it.”

“So you say.” Emerson regarded Keene’s bandages with interest, and while he didn’t sound impressed, doubt wedged its way into his mind. “Convince me further,” he invited.

I glanced at Keene. “If you take off that bandage and the bleeding starts again, I swear, the engagement is off. I’m not watching you bleed to death to prove anything to this man.” I was serious about not standing by to watch him bleed. I’d shoot Emerson first.

Emerson’s mouth twitched as mirth entered his thoughts.

“Why don’t we address something more important?” I said.

Emerson inclined his head, urging me on.

“I’m talking about the records from the days before Hunters separated from the Emporium.”

“You mean when we were abandoned?” His voice rose with each word. “Kicked out with no money and no homes when we didn’t undergo their precious Change?”

“You’re not old enough to remember,” I countered.

“No, but my dad and grandaddy remember, and I learned from the day I was born what happened. There is no doubt we have to get rid of the Unbounded—all of them. They think of mortals as little more than intelligent monkeys.” Bitterness laced his voice. “If we let them live, they will take over and only heaven will be able to help us then.”

“I agree with you—for the most part.” I did, at least as far as the Emporium was concerned. “But about the records? You have access to them, don’t you? You and a few others? You’re the ones we get orders from. Who to watch, right?”
We
meaning Hunters, of course, though saying it left a nasty taste in my mouth.

Emerson didn’t answer, and I felt his finger go to the trigger of his gun. “I do have access,” he said shortly, “but I won’t let you see them. I give out names only to heads of chapters.”

“We didn’t come here for that.” Without looking, I felt Brody step closer to the back of the couch, seeming as fascinated at the idea of the records as I was. Of course, he’d want to take them back to the Emporium. “I think the Emporium has been infiltrating our organization,” I added, “and I think they’re planning a move to get the records from you.” To Mari, I silently said,
Get ready.

“Ridiculous.” Emerson gave a sharp jerk of his head. “All my people are thoroughly investigated. Even my own relatives. Because as much as we love them, we know their genes give them the possibility of becoming monsters.”

“You’re sure you have no Unbounded working for you?” I pressed.

“Absolutely.” He was finished with us. I could see his decision even as he made it. He didn’t trust Keene, and he was realizing that having a copy of the records in his safe here at the townhouse might put him in danger. His gaze rose to Brody, giving him one steady blink. A signal.

Now!
I pushed the word mentally at Mari as I reached for my ballistic knife, whipping it around to point at Brody, leaving my back exposed to Emerson’s pistol. I felt a slight suction of air as Mari shifted at the same time a solid
click
signaled my knife had left its housing. This close, I wasn’t worried about accuracy. I’d have to be way off not to hit him.

The knife left my hand at a slightly upward angle, coming at Brody even as he brought out his gun. It slammed into his throat. He gave a muffled, wet gurgle, his eyes staring at me in disbelief. As he fell, I was already diving to the side, reaching for my backup .380 in my other boot. I twisted toward Emerson, whose gun was on his lap, but useless as Mari’s knife pressed against his throat. His cowboy hat had fallen to the side, revealing longish pale red hair that swept to the side and tried to hide a receding hairline.

“Show offs,” Keene muttered.

Emerson let out a sob. “Brody!” His eyes went to me. “Please let me go to him.” His pistol slid off his lap and onto the floor.

I stared at him. The emotion he felt threatened to overwhelm both of us. Not the ordinary feeling of an employer for a bodyguard but something far deeper. I looked into the sand stream and there it was, the information that might have prevented this entire confrontation.

I nodded at Emerson, mentally kicking myself for not seeing the connection earlier. “Mari, let him go.”

“What?” This from Keene.

“Let him go,” I repeated. “It’s his son.”

“K
EENE, WATCH THE DOOR.
I
’LL
cover Emerson.” All we needed now was for Mrs. Emerson to return. Keene nodded and moved across the library into the sitting room, a pistol in one hand, the other over his bandaged stomach.

Mari released Emerson, who arose and shakily came around the couch, stumbling as he reached the fallen Unbounded. “Brody, Brody,” he wept, his hand going to the knife and hesitating. “Please, let me call the ambulance. Oh, my son, my son. God, help him. Help my son!”

Mari shifted and appeared on the other side of Brody, her face solemn. No doubt remembering when she’d found her husband with his throat slashed by the Emporium.

“There’s no need for an ambulance.” Passing the gun to Mari, I knelt by Brody and pulled out the knife, stanching the blood flow with a pillow from the couch. “Hold this here,” I told Emerson, taking back my gun. “Mari, if you could get my coat.”

Nodding, she shifted, leaving me momentarily breathless as the air around her also vanished. Emerson didn’t even notice. He was shaking and crying and praying. I felt terrible, even though I knew Brody was fine. I had to remind myself of how many Renegades Emerson had killed. He deserved this for every spouse or child or parent who had lost their loved one to the Hunters. Wiping off my knife and replacing it in my boot, I shut my mind against his pain.

Mari popped back into the room, handing me my coat. I traded the gun for it, and from the pocket, I retrieved a syringe full of curequick.

“What are you doing?” Emerson tried to stop me, as I removed the pillow, but I was stronger. “You’ll kill—” He broke off as he saw that the blood flow had already decreased.

I slid the thick needle under the flesh and slowly pressed in some of the liquid, removing it and beginning all over again in another place near the wound.

“He’s not breathing,” Emerson said, still sounding panicked.

“He doesn’t need to. He should be around soon enough.” Finishing with the needle and syringe, I squeezed together the edges of his wound.

“Who are you?” Emerson asked.

I snorted. “Not the Emporium, if that’s what you’re thinking. Or you’d be dead. No, we’re Hunters like you. But your son may be with the Emporium.”

“He can’t be . . . he wouldn’t have . . . will he really be okay?” Emerson had relaxed since my assertion that we weren’t Emporium, which told me he knew there was a difference between Unbounded groups. Yet over the years he’d continued to condone the murders of all Unbounded.

We sat watching Brody in silence until Keene whistled from the sitting room. “Someone’s coming,” I guessed. I waved my pistol at Emerson. “Better get over there and stop them or things could get ugly.”

He staggered to his feet, and I followed. “Drag him over there a bit, if you can,” I told Mari over my shoulder, worried that even in the next room we’d see Brody’s legs and feet.

Charlaine Emerson appeared in the doorway to the sitting room, puzzled to find most of us standing by the door instead of seated in the adjoining library where she’d left the coffee and croissants. “Is something wrong?”

“Not at all, dear,” Emerson said. “Just showing them around. But we have some sensitive Hunter matters to discuss, so we’ll be closing the library door.”

“I see.” Her gaze ran over her husband, pausing on his bare head. From her thoughts, I could see his words weren’t completely unusual, as he often entertained Hunters, but the only place she ever saw him without his hat was in bed. “You don’t need any more coffee? Croissants?”

“No, dear.” Emerson assured her. “What you already brought is perfect.”

“Okay. Well, if you’re busy here, Josi and I are going to take Sierra shopping. She’s actually up, if you can believe that. She’s excited about finding something to wear for her date tonight.”

“I’m sure she’ll find something beautiful with your help.” Emerson swiped a hand over the moisture beading on his forehead.

After Charlaine left, we all returned to the library, with Emerson stopping where the rooms adjoined to pull out pocket doors on either side of the wide doorway. I hadn’t noticed them before, and they were flimsy enough to still give me worry, but the lock should at least give us warning if anyone approached.

Mari had moved Brody, and blood stained the white carpet where he’d lain. Two spots several inches wide where the blood had leaked down on either side of his neck. Not a lot, but enough that it would cause immediate notice. Emerson stepped over the marks and knelt by his son, taking his hand. “He has a pulse.” Amazement filled his voice.