“Put your hands behind your head!” someone screams from behind.
I do as I’m told, looking over my shoulder. Luke interlaces his fingers, presses them to the top of his head, elbows sticking out. We look at each other. Regret shapes his expression, and—today, in this emotion—we could actually be twins.
At least I got the message out to James. At least I didn’t completely fail.
Elliot’s soldiers jerk us to our feet and push our backs against the wall. They are all dressed in black. One of them wears only pants. His arms and torso are covered in brown and tan scales, forming a snake-like pattern. He forces Luke’s legs apart and pats him down, a forked tongue tasting his cheek. Luke recoils. The creature hisses in delight.
“He’s clean,” the Eklyptor says, then checks me, though not with as much delight as he did Luke.
“Let me through.” Lamia pushes her way between the ten or twelve guards who chased us down the corridor, her tail nudging spectators out of the way. “What do we have here?” she says, satisfaction dripping like honey from her mouth. Her disturbing eyes glint, her mouth cocks to one side.
She looks at us, then Aydan who’s limping his way through the crowd. Lamia uses the tip of her long tail to scratch her head. The motion would be comical if it wasn’t so creepy, so impossibly inhuman.
“What just happened here?” she asks, truly confused. “Where’s Lyra?”
“I’ll te-tell you w-what happened.” Aydan has made it to the front.
Lamia’s tail whips up in flash and wraps around Aydan’s neck. “Shut your mouth, little Fender.” She pushes him against the wall with us, her tail whipping back, recoiling to hover over her head.
Aydan clears his throat. He swallows with difficulty. “I’m no Fender. I’m fi-finally free of him.”
Lamia narrows her lizard eyes at him, judging.
“She,” Aydan points a trembling finger at me, “she’s the Fe-fender.”
Lamia ponders for a moment, then unexpectedly burst out laughing. The guards look at each other, confused, then laugh just to be in on the joke.
“I love it when I’m right,” Lamia says, turning to me. “You are still a Fender and always have been.” She spits on my face.
I wipe the spit off with the back of my hand.
Lamia laughs again, louder this time. “And you were trying to save him,” she points at Aydan, “after he went full-fledged on Dr. Sting’s table? Oh, this is just too good, too good!” She slaps her thigh, laughing like a maniac, then stops abruptly. “Wait! That must mean that Lyra …?” A wicked grin tips her lips. She’s probably imagining herself as Elliot’s second now. “You and you, go find Lyra, cuff her and bring her to me.”
The two guards she singled out look confused.
“She’s a traitor, you idiots. Do as I say. It’s an order!”
They nod nervously and back out of the circle, their scared eyes on Lamia. Once they are far enough, they turn and set out to find Lyra. She wanted to kill me before. After this, she’ll want to include torture as a preamble.
My attention returns to Aydan who’s looking at me with the most intense hatred I’ve ever seen in his eyes. My heart tightens, pain wrapping itself around it as I remember the tenderness and warmth his gaze used to hold for me.
“Aydan, you can fight it!” I tell him, hoping he can still hear me, hoping he hasn’t been completely shrouded by his agent.
“My name is n-not Aydan.” He limps closer, a hand extended in my direction. “My name is Charger.” His fingers shake. His face twists with effort.
I press my back closer to the wall, expecting electricity to burst from his fingertips, but nothing happens. He shakes his arm, slaps it against his side, then tries again. Nothing. He stares at his ineffectual hand, then at his bare feet. He’s grounded, but there was no crackle of energy in him, so I don’t think that’s the problem. It seems that skill belonged to Aydan, and this impostor can’t wield it.
“Looks like you’re gonna need to find a new name,” I mock. “On the other hand, don’t bother. He’ll find a way to crush you. He’ll find his way—”
My words get cut off. I choke. My hands fly to Lamia’s tail as it tightens around my neck.
“Ooh, you sound so different. What happened to your whiny, sniveling talk, huh?”
She squeezes so hard a strangled sound escapes me, and I lose control of my legs.
Luke forgets he’s supposed to keep his hands up and pulls on Lamia’s tail. “Let her go, you hideous bitch.”
Lamia’s eyes startle at the forceful order. Still, she doesn’t release me and, instead, squeezes harder. I sputter. My windpipe feels ready to snap. A guard tries to tear Luke away but fails. It takes two huge, gorilla-looking freaks to finally restrain him.
“You’ll have to explain yourself to Whitehouse if something happens to her,” Luke growls, still kicking.
Through the haze of my pain, I see Lamia’s face twist with displeasure. As much as she’d like to snap me in two, she knows Luke is right. If she hurts me, Elliot will have her scaly hide. Reluctantly, she lets me go. I collapse to my knees, gasping for air.
Charger growls with disappointment. “Somebody n-needs to … to kill the bitch.”
“Couldn’t agree more.” Lamia turns her back on us, her tail slamming against the floor in aggravation. “Cuff them and follow me. We’ll take them to Elliot.”
What? Why is Elliot still here?! He’s supposed to be on his way to SeaTac.
Luke and I exchange a glance.
When I look away I find that Lamia is staring at us over her shoulder. There’s suspicion in her expression. For a moment, she seems ready to lash out, but for some reason, she restrains herself and marches down the hall.
The guards yank me to my feet and cuff my hands behind my back. I try to think of a way I could use my powers to fight them off, but it’s twelve against two, and my skills as reliable as a weather forecast. We wouldn’t stand a chance. So I lower my head and stumble forward as one of the guards pushes me along.
What little hope I had left disintegrates as I think of James chasing a false lead while Elliot sits safely in his office.