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  I was still laughing when she came at me. She grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked, while at the same time kicking out at the legs on my chair. The whole thing toppled sideways, and I hit the floor hard enough to clamp my teeth into my tongue. I tasted blood—but better than that? I saw blood.

  The bucket she’d been collecting my blood in was a few inches from my head.

  I jerked my body forward once. Twice. On the third try I managed to head-butt it, tilting the thing until it spilled. My stomach churned, acid rising in my throat as I watched the red liquid rush from the container and onto the carpet. The contrast in color was shocking, and when Cora let out a blood-boiling wail.

  I had to do something. Stall her or distract her—otherwise she was going to kill me right then and there. I saw it in her eyes. I’d been a witness to her losing it many times before: she’d be fine one minute, then totally unhinged the next. Most of the times it happened, there was no real catalyst. Nothing obvious had set it off. Unfortunately, this time? There was a reason.

  “Before you do whatever it is you’re debating, think about this—you kill me, and you’re stuck here. They’ll never fix your chip.”

  She snorted and crossed the room, hauling me up and righting the chair. “I’m smarter than all of them put together. What makes you think I’d need them to fix my chip?”

  I glanced around the room, then back to her. “Then go for it. I’m sure you’ll be able to scrounge up all the resources you need right here in this hotel room.”

  She let out a frustrated growl and began pacing again. Like before, she was jabbing at her arm, hoping that whatever the problem was, it was only temporary.

  “Phil MaKaden designed the device that fried your chip.” That small bit of truth wouldn’t hurt. I didn’t worry he was in danger. He was under the protection of the government. She couldn’t touch him on this world. Plus, the mention of his name turned her a little green. Her own world’s version of him had betrayed her by helping Ash. “I’m willing to bet an arm that they’ll be willing to make a deal.”

  Her lips tilted upward, and she shook her head slowly. “You for my chip, right?”

  It was my turn to shrug. Not an easy task considering my bindings. I saw the fury in her eyes, and the way she stood, rigid and coiled—ready to strike like a cobra. The fact that she hadn’t yet was encouraging. “Can’t get something for nothing.” I fought—and lost—the urge to smile. “What did you say before? About sacrifice?”

  Chapter Thirty

  G

  They’d brought me back to Fort Hannity and had me wait in a room. That was the nice way of putting it. In reality, it took Cade, Noah, and Anderson to physically force me to go—cuff me and stuff me into the back of Anderson’s jeep—then lock me in a cell. All because I wanted to go after Sera.

  I hadn’t stopped moving since they’d locked the door. Back and forth, end to end, I stalked the confines of my cell with just one thing on my mind.

  Murdering Cora Anderson.

  A deeply rooted part of me knew they were right. We needed a plan. We had to find her first. But the part that was in control, the monster Cora made…he didn’t need a plan. He would scour the city, ripping it to shreds and uprooting everything until he found his prey.

  Yep. It was probably a really good thing they’d locked me up.

  “How you doing in there?” Cade appeared on the other side of the bars.

  I glared at him and swallowed my first response—a colorful combination of telling him to fuck off and die. After I’d tamped it down, I said, “Places I’d rather be.”

  “I know. And I’m sorry…” He tapped the bars. “About this. I know it must be hard being back in a cell after everything you went through.”

  “What’s hard is being stuck here while she’s doing God knows what to Sera,” I ground out.

  “Well, then you’re in luck.” He stepped back and produced a set of keys, hesitating just shy of inserting them into the lock. “You won’t understand this, but this whole situation—me letting you out—is creepy and ironic.”

  I waited for a moment after he opened the door. I couldn’t help being suspicious. “What gives?”

  “I told you we just needed to formulate a plan. We’ve done that.”

  “We know where she is?”

  I followed him down the hall. “Actually, we do. In a shocking turn of events, Dylan came back.” He stopped in front of a door leading outside. On the other side, I saw Dylan standing between Anderson and Noah. “He’s—”

  The rest of whatever it was he planned to say was lost when I slammed out the door and barreled straight for Dylan. “Where the hell is she?” I grabbed him by the front of the shirt and spun him toward the hood of the nearby jeep.

  Credit where credit was due—he kept his shit together. That sane part of me knew I was flying off the ledge, but stopping myself wasn’t an option. “We’re going to meet her now. Cora called me. Wants to trade Sera for her chip.”

  I let go of him. “Her chip?”

  “She thinks we can fix it so she can skip out,” Noah said. His lips twisted into a scowl. “Because we’d let her walk away…”

  “So, what’s the play?” Standing around was just pissing me off.

  “She gave us her hotel and room number. Rabbit and Dylan are going up.”

  “And me,” I said. If they really thought I was leaving Sera’s life in Dylan’s hands, they were fucking delusional. Anderson opened his mouth, but I held up my hand. “Don’t. This isn’t up for negotiation. Nothing short of you putting a bullet between my eyes is going to keep me from going.”

  “He’s right,” Dylan said. “Cora didn’t say it, but I’d bet my hand that she expects G to come. If he’s not there, she might spook. Think it’s a trap or something.”

  It should have concerned me that he was so agreeable, but at that point I was going to take what I could get. “Settled, then.” Without another word from anyone, I climbed into the back of the jeep and waited. A moment later, the rest of them joined me, and we were on our way.

  …

  “Pretty pricey for someone who has no resources,” Anderson said as he slid from behind the wheel. We’d parked the jeep in the front lot, close to the building. Cora was on the top floor. The penthouse. She wouldn’t be able to see us from there.

  “Don’t fool yourself,” I said, taking a nice long look over the building. Brick. Each room had a balcony, and as far as I could tell, the back of the hotel faced out over a massive lake. “Just because she’s a visitor here doesn’t mean she can’t fend for herself. Don’t expect some pushover like your wife.”

  Anderson laughed. “Son, my Cora is anything but a pushover, trust me.”

  Rabbit came up beside me, flanked by Dylan. Cade and Noah joined Anderson on the other side of the jeep. “I think I can fake it and get her to believe that I’ve fixed the chip.”

  “How the hell are you going to do that?” Dylan snapped. Of all the people along for this ride, aside from me, he seemed to have the most trouble with Rabbit. Every time I looked his way, the guy was staring at him. The kind of look you give someone right before knocking his damn teeth out and feeding them to him.

  Rabbit grinned, oblivious to Dylan’s ire, and held up his arm. He gave his wrist a wiggle—I assume to showcase the weird-looking watch there. “Cade let me poke around his chip a bit. Run some diagnostics. My watch will project a perfectly replicated hologram of the chip’s waking screen. She’ll think it’s up and running.”

  It was more than I’d hoped for—but not enough. “And what are you going to do when she tries to grab Sera and skip out?”

  Rabbit flushed. “Well, I mean, we’ll have to grab her first.”

  “Because that will work,” Dylan muttered, not quite under his breath.

  “A lot of this is going to be improvising,” Anderson said. “You up for that, son?”

  “I’m up for it.”

  Ten minutes later, Rabbit, Dylan, and I were standing in f
ront of room number 342. Rabbit knocked, and a few moments later, one of Cora’s monkeys appeared. He stepped aside and gestured us in.

  Rabbit let out a whistle. “Swank-kay.”

  “I distinctly recall this being a party of three—not four.” Cora glared at me from across the room.

  I returned her grin and jabbed a finger to the right, toward the three guards standing in the corner like statues. “Looks like seven to me.”

  She sighed and rolled her eyes. “I suppose I expected you to show.” A wicked grin spread across her lips, and she winked at me. “You know, being the good little doggie you are.”

  “Where’s Sera?”

  “Right through here.” She snapped her fingers at the men in the corner. “Do pay attention, boys. We’ll be in the other room discussing business.”

  They didn’t so much as flinch.

  She led us through the hall and around the corner to the master bedroom suite. Sera was bound to a chair in front of an open glass door that led out to a small balcony. That alone brought a rumble to my throat. But add to it the fact that she looked ready to pass out, was pale as snow, and obviously hurt—there was an alarming amount of blood on the carpet—and the monster inside tore free.

  “What the hell did you do?” I stalked forward, ignoring the protests and curses from Rabbit and Dylan, and made a move to grab Cora by the throat. A move I aborted when she smiled wider and held up what looked like a smaller version of a television remote.

  “I would put it on ice, little doggie.” She waved the thing around and sauntered a step closer, leaning in to get a better look. “Well, color me surprised. Looks like I won after all.”

  “If you think that, then you aren’t familiar with your own work. There’s very little keeping me from tearing you apart, Cora.”

  She shrugged. “Oh, I believe it. But something to consider before you go on that self-destructive rampage…” She waved the remote again.

  “What the fuck is that?” Dylan snapped. He had just as much patience for her show as I did.

  “Oh, this? Nothing much. Nothing much…” She tossed it into the air then caught it again. “It’s just the little gadget that controls the bomb I had my boys plant.”

  “Bomb,” I said. “And where is this bomb? Someplace populated? A nunnery or orphanage?”

  “Like you would care. Of course not.” She nodded to a black box on the bed, and the air in my lungs turned to concrete. “Go on. Have a look-see. This world is amazing.”

  “We’re just here to keep our end of the deal,” Rabbit said. He sucked in a breath and came forward, giving his bag of tools a subtle shake. I had no idea what was in there, but it sounded like it was heavy. “I fix what I did to your chip, and we get Sera back. You skip off on your merry way, and no one needs to go boom.”

  “Let’s get on with it, then,” she said happily. “Oh. One sec. Need to do one thing first…” She aimed the remote at the box and pushed one of the buttons. A small digital panel on the thing flashed to life, reading seven minutes.

  Dylan took a step toward the box then backed away. His mouth hung open. “You crazy bitch! What the hell did you just do?”

  Cora’s expression was the polar opposite. She was beaming like the fucking sun. “I’m motivating Mr. MaKaden.”

  Rabbit wore a similar expression to Dylan, except he was much paler. “Lady, you need to work on your motivational skills…”

  “I was assured that you could fix my chip.”

  He dropped his bag to the ground. “I can!”

  “Then get to it. You have”—she nodded toward the timer—“six minutes and change to get the job done.”

  “And what if it takes longer than that?” He swallowed. “This stuff isn’t an exact science. You work the tech. You’ve gotta know that.”

  She shrugged like it was no big thing. “Then we’re all going to die.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Sera

  Rabbit bent over Cora’s arm in an attempt to make the chip work again. At least, that’s what they told her. I couldn’t believe that was true. She was dangerous to each and every human in the multiverse. Letting someone like her walk free would be like damning countless people to death.

  “Tick tock,” Cora said with a cluck of her tongue.

  The timer on her bomb had just flipped to the three-minute mark.

  Rabbit looked ready to vomit. He was pale and sweating, and I wasn’t sure if he’d hurt his right hand, because he was holding it at an odd angle. “Done.” He tapped her chip, and I couldn’t believe my eyes when the main screen appeared on her skin in translucent blue light. “Now please kill the bomb before I shit myself, ’kay?”

  She pried her hand from his grip and rolled her eyes. With a swipe of her back pocket, she had the remote out and aimed at the box, the button pushed. Thank God, right? Wrong.

  Nothing happened.

  “You got what you wanted. Stop the damn timer and hand her over,” Dylan hollered.

  She mumbled something and pushed the button again, this time harder. The timer still continued to tick off. “Well, I take it back. The craftsmanship on this world leaves much to be desired.” She crossed to where I was, then poked at her forearm to wake the chip.

  Nothing happened with that, either.

  “What did you do?” she roared.

  Rabbit raced to the box and gingerly lifted the lid. A quick inspection had him shaking his head. “Nothing I can do. It’s gonna blow.”

  “Go!” G bellowed. He jabbed his finger at the door.

  Rabbit hesitated for a moment, then took off. A few seconds later, the fire alarm sounded.

  “Typical MaKaden,” Dylan grumbled.

  Despite my shaky feelings about him, I couldn’t blame Rabbit for bolting. There was no reason for all of us to die. And he’d alerted the entire building by hitting the alarm. At least now, no matter what happened, fewer people would die. “Get out,” I cried. “Please.”

  G took a step toward Cora and me. “Hand her over, and we’ll all get the hell out of here.”

  “I’d rather die.” Cora laughed. “You know, I did you both a favor.” She jabbed a finger at G and said, “When I found you, you were bleeding out on the battlefield. Your team had left you for dead. And you…” She turned to me with a scowl. “You were pathetic. So close to death that I almost didn’t bother. I saved both your miserable lives. I saved them—and now I’m choosing to end them!”

  Dylan sighed. He turned to me and smiled. “Remember what I said about him.” Then, without warning, he charged across the room, straight for Cora. She screamed and tried to move, but he was too fast. He crashed into her, then barreled them both through the balcony’s screen doors and over the railing.

  Oh my God… Gone. They were gone. Dylan had sacrificed himself for us.

  Sixty seconds…

  G raced to the edge, staring down. “Hundred or so feet…”

  Forty-five seconds…

  “G…” I whimpered. I’d escaped that hellhole only to die by Cora’s hand anyway—but I refused to drag him along with me. He’d been through enough and deserved to be free. “Please go!”

  There wasn’t enough time for him to mess around with my bindings and nowhere near enough time to get the both of us out of the blast range.

  Thirty seconds…

  He went back to the railing and kicked at it with violent force. The whole thing came away from the balcony with ease, and he managed to catch it just before it fell. Setting it up against the side railing, he raced back to me.

  “You’re gonna hate this,” he said, bracing a hand on either armrest of the chair.

  Fifteen seconds…

  “G…what are you—”

  Ten seconds…

  “And there’s a good chance we won’t survive it.”

  Six seconds…

  “But I’d rather take a chance than stand here and blow up.”

  He dragged my chair to the back of the room, as far away from the balcony
as he could get. “Count to four then hold your breath.” With a jerky motion, we shot through the room and out to the balcony—then over the edge just as the explosion rocked the top floor.

  Time’s up…

  I was weightless and falling, plummeting toward the lake. I hit the water, the force of the impact jarring every bone in my body and knocking the air from my lungs. Out of instinct, I tried to take a deep breath. I got a mouthful of water.

  I forced my eyes open. It was murky and dark, and there was a pressure in my chest threatening to crush me. I was disoriented, but sure that I was moving in the wrong direction. The surface—the air—was up. I was sinking into the abyss.

  I was going to drown.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  G

  My head broke the surface, and I gasped, greedily sucking down as much air as I could get. Intense pain told me I’d dislocated my left shoulder. I’d done it twice in basic training and was morbidly familiar with the sensation. “Sera!” I roared. Above us, the faint whine of sirens filled the distance, complemented by people’s concerned cries. Frantic, I searched the surface. It was calm. She was nowhere to be seen.

  That’s when I remembered that she’d still been bound to the chair.

  I tucked my injured arm close and took another deep breath, then dove. The water was icy, but thankfully clearer than it was on my world. I caught sight of her a few yards from where I’d landed. The chair had splintered. The left leg was gone and most of the back was missing, but there was enough left to keep her confined. She was sinking. Kicking hard, I fought my way to her and grabbed the chair with my good arm. She was struggling with the bindings and having no luck.

  No matter how hard I kicked, though, we weren’t making any progress. The chair was bulky and made from heavy wood, and I only had one arm to work with. That, in combination with the lack of actual gravity, crippled me. I let out a frustrated howl, bubbles exploding from my mouth, and let go. I kicked hard for the surface, so much farther away than it had been moments ago. Another lungful of air. Another dive.