I GRAB MY KNIFE out of its sheath. I’m going to have to run. Whistler’s head comes over the counter, and his eyebrows jog in surprise. I scramble to my feet and bolt for the door, but by the time I open it, Anna is on the other side. I slash an arc of blade before me, and she backs up.
“Hey, now,” she says.
At that moment, Whistler dives to tackle me from the side. We hit the ground. I try to get my knife into him, but he blocks my wrist and the knife goes skittering through the doorway. I scramble to my knees. He catches my ankle, jerks me back, and slams me to the floor. I shove and kick, but he lands on my back and nearly crushes the breath out of me.
“Let me go!” I say.
Whistler presses my head so my face is smashed to the floor.
“Get her legs,” his says grimly, his voice near to my ear.
Someone wraps my ankles together. Then my wrists are tied together behind my back. Whistler hauls me up and drags me into the operating room, where he dumps me on a chair.
“Stay put,” Jules says, standing over me.
I twist my wrists in my bindings and try to flip my hair out of my eyes. “Let me out of here!” I say.
Whistler, panting, braces a hand against the wall.
Anna leans over to pick up my knife. “We need to call Sandy.”
“Not yet,” says Jules. He regards me narrowly, and I see his features up close for the first time. His cheeks are pitted with old acne scars, and his lips are thin and gray. “How’d you find us?” he asks. “Who else knows you’re here?”
“You’re going to jail. All of you,” I say.
Jules opens his big, hard hand and slaps me across the face. “I asked you how you found us.”
I wince, stung. “Ask your dragon,” I say.
Jules smacks me again, harder this time, and pain flares along my left cheekbone. “I’m asking you,” Jules says to me.
I have to blink to regain my focus, and when I do, a surge of brute anger rises in me. I’m not taking this. My days of putting up with Larry’s violence are over, and I’m not cowering from anybody else, ever again.
I spit in Jules’s face. “Go ahead and rot.”
He turns red and winds up again, but just then, Anna steps between us.
“That’s enough. Leave her alone, Jules,” she says in a stern voice.
His eyes flash from her to me. He wipes his face. Then he crosses his arms over his chest and falls back half a step.
Anna frowns at me, inspecting me closely. I stare back, defiant. Her dark face is broad, with strong, regular features, and the whites of her eyes have a tint of yellow. When she touches her fingers lightly to my sore cheek, I flinch back. She runs a hand over my pockets and takes out my phone, tossing it to Whistler.
“See what you can find,” Anna says.
Next she pulls out my keys.
“She’s right, you know. What she said. It was the dragon that brought her,” Kiri says in her quiet voice. Sitting in a tall swivel chair by the operating table, she alone seems unruffled. “The dragon in the machine.”
“What are you talking about?” Jules says.
Whistler’s flipping through my phone, but he looks up at Kiri. “The fluke in the computer. The thing that ripples in the code and cuts out the cameras.”
“Nonsense,” Jules says. “When was her last call?”
Whistler returns his attention to my phone. “Three days ago,” he says. “A number in St. Louis. I’d bet Linus. Before that, a number in Atlanta.”
I’m surprised. I must have grabbed my older phone.
“Who’s in Atlanta?” Anna asks me.
“Important people,” I say. “They’re going to call the police if I’m not back soon.”
“Likely not, since you’re still technically missing,” Anna says. She taps a finger against the knife, and then sets it aside. “Not even Berg knows where you are. What a curious opportunity.”
At some slight signal from Anna, Jules turns and starts prepping a syringe.
My heart lurches. I twist my hands in my bindings, trying to get free. “You can’t knock me out. You can’t mess with my sleep in any way,” I say. “It throws off my dreams.”
Jules pauses. “Baloney.”
“It’s true! Berg likes me afraid,” I say, thinking fast. “He keeps me in a delicate balance of fear. Then, when I’m exhausted, I fall into a deep sleep and he’s ready to mine me.”
Anna gives a half smile and shakes her head again. “Whistler, take care of her car,” she says, and passes him my keys.
Jules takes a step nearer and I tense.
“Stay away from me!” I scream.
I try to kick out, but Jules pins me with a hard grip on my shoulder. A sharp pain pinches my neck, and numbness spreads outward from the injection. My neck goes limp, and my knees buckle. Jules holds me steady on the chair as my body collapses from within.
“No,” I say. I cannot be back in this helpless situation again.
But I am. They have me. It’s impossible to keep my eyes open. I try to struggle, but my body is already weak. I feel someone lifting me, and then I’m stretched out on a table. My wrists are untied and then my arms, heavy and limp, are strapped down to the table.
The last thing I hear is Jules’s voice.
“How convenient. She still has a port.”