“What do you mean,too late?” I said, reaching out to pat his chest. “You don’t have a bomb on you or something, do you?”
He slapped my hand away. “No, and you’ll see soon enough.”
“If you do something stupid, he’ll find a way to get back at us.”
“Not if he’s in jail,” Blake said, his tone dark.
My pulse skyrocketed, thoughts circling to those big scary men Theo had mentioned, who wouldn’tbe in jail, but still free to hurt people. And yeah, Theo tried to avoid that, but I was willing to bet he’d make an exception for those responsible for putting him behind bars.
I grabbed my brother’s arm, trying to slow us down. “What did youdo?” I had to find some way to stop whatever was about to happen.
He pulled free from me and kept walking. “You’re about to find out. We’re here.”
I wrenched my gaze away from him, our surroundings coming back into focus. Here? Here, where? This street looked like any other congested part of the city. Traffic, pedestrians, storefronts, construction barriers.
My eyes homed in on the one thing that was different: two large men wearing city uniforms and safety vests, guarding the entrance to the work site. Late at night.
A woman in a trench coat stopped in front of them. The three had a brief exchange, and then she passed between the pair into the darkness beyond.
Blake pulled away from me, and I hurried to catch up with him, my heartbeat pounding so hard I felt like I might choke on it. I didn’t want any part of what was about to happen, but it was clear Blake was determined, and I had no idea how to stop him without resorting to hitting him over the head and dragging his unconscious body out of here.
Maybe I could find some way to change his mind once we were inside? Threaten to go to Mom and Dad? Remind him that Theo was a scary, evil mastermind with untold minions ready to do his dark bidding?
“Password,” said the beefy guy standing on the right, his head on a swivel as his gaze swept the rest of the street.
“Rhoticity,” Blake replied.
I blinked. No fucking way.
The guy on the left motioned us past.
Blake and I entered the narrow mouth of an alleyway. Overhead, someone had strung café lights, their warm glow providing just enough light to see by. The pavement beneath our feet had been cleared of trash and swept clean, and there was even a light lemony scent in the air, like someone had taken the time to mop.
“Here, put this on,” Blake told me, handing me a plain masquerade mask.
“What, why?” I said.
“Just do it.” He tied his in place. “No one shows their faces.”
I grumbled about ruined makeup, but begrudgingly put it on as we approached another big guard, this one in a suit, standing at the far end of the passage. My gaze scanned the walls around us. I didn’t see any doors or windows, and it made me worry we were walking straight into some sort of trap.
I tugged Blake’s sleeve, my voice low with warning. “I don’t like this.”
He shushed me and kept walking, and as we got closer to the guard, I realized the dark spot on the ground next to him was an open manhole.
Oh, Jesus.
The guard motioned us forward. Blake stepped up to him, and the man started waving a foot-long wand over him, slowly, from top to bottom. “No phones or recording devices?”
“No,” Blake said.
“Um... I have a phone in my clutch,” I confessed.
“Take it out and turn it off,” the guard barked, and I quickly complied.
He motioned toward a basket and told me I could pick it up on my way out. Then he gave me the same head-to-toe wand treatment while Blake approached the tunnel.
“Follow the lights when you reach the bottom,” the guard said.
