Mari sat in the armchair, unmoving, silent.
“What are you?—”
A hand slid around Brighton’s mouth. Pulled her back hard. “Quiet,” the deep voice hissed in warning.
She slammed her elbow back, right into the soft part of his gut. Only it wasn’t soft. It was hard. Solid. The grip on her mouth tightened, muscles crushing her against him.
“Lizzy. Stop.”
She stilled, recognizing the voice. Cord. One of the rescue underground operatives. The reason she’d only used her working name.
“You with me?”
Still held captive, she nodded beneath his hand, and he released her. She whirled away, reaching for Mari. The girl caught her hand?—her arm, then snugged in close as they considered the two men lurking in the house. “What’re you doing here?”
“You know why I’m here.”
Her gut churned, wrapping Mari in a comforting hug. “I can’t.”
“You said you wouldn’t leave without the girl?—she’s here. Let’s go.”
Her heart hammered, knowing this whole house was rigged with listening devices and cameras. Even if she managed to leave without tipping them off, they’d find her. “You idiot. They?—”
The corner of his mouth lifted as he pointed to something he held. “It’s disrupting any signal into or out of this house.”
She looked at it. Felt the blood drain from her face. “Oh no.” She shoved her hair back, thinking fast. Through what was about to happen. “You have to go. Leave.” Squalling tires in the distance warned time was up. “Now. Get out!”
Cord cursed. “You sent a panic code?”
Guilt harangued her. “I knew someone was in the house?—Mari wasn’t answering.”
His urgency returned. “Come with us!”
“No way. We wouldn’t get halfway down the street before they’d be on us. I’m not risking my life or hers.” Brighton worked to collect herself, calm down. Take control. “I’m staying here where I’m safe here.”
“This isn’t safe.”
She pushed him toward the back door. “Go! Please.”
“Come with us,” Cord said, moving toward the door. “We’re operators??—this is what we’re trained for. We know how to fight these guys. I can get you out of here. Both of you. I swear.”
“You said you only go through the front door. This isn’t the front door.” She shoved him toward the rear of the house, the double meaning to her words almost made her laugh. But how could she laugh when Death knocked? “Go. You won’t be able to help anyone if you stay.”
“Think about it,” he begged. “Promise??—next time.”
She hesitated, that thread before her beautiful and golden. The thought of leaving, not having to lose a piece of her soul every day …
Who was she kidding? There wasn’t anything left of her to save.
That thread was fool’s gold.
No, it was a noose!
“It’s too late for me.” She pushed them out, then closed and locked the door. Spun to Mari.
“Why’d you do that?” Mari shrieked.
Anger and grief were understandable—the girl was new to this gig??—but right now … “Finch is coming. Forget those men were here. Not a single word or we’re both dead.” She hurried through the house, turning on lights, knocking over some lamps, a chair.
