Blacklisted (7 page)

I nodded, unable to speak.

“There's a water bottle in the bag at your feet. Might help you calm down.”

A bag? I looked down and sure enough, there was a black vinyl bag. I bent and dug through it, finding a change of clothing, an oddly shaped pair of sunglasses, and yes, a bottle of water. Straightening, I chugged the contents, swishing my mouth out with every gulp.

“I think you're wrong about them,” I said, forcing the words out. “What can it hurt to let me talk to them? It can't make our situation any worse.” I hoped.

He snarled low in his throat.

I took that as a no. Dear Lord. Innocent schoolgirl one day, shot at, chased criminal the next.
Don't think like that. You're not a criminal. Yes, things look bad, but after you explain the situation everything will be fine
. “Please, Erik.”

“Have you listened to nothing I've said? They'll shot first and ask questions later.”

Light-headed, I buried my face between my knees. We hit a curb and bounced again. “Maybe I prefer to be shot at than smashed around.”

“It's going to be okay, Camille.”

I caught traces of uncertainty and guilt in his voice. “I know,” I offered, trying to comfort
him
. Silly girl.

“I think we're going to have to ditch the car. Think you've got the strength to run?”

“Sure,” I replied, knowing I wouldn't have to prove it. When he stopped, I was going to turn myself in.

“Good, 'cause running is the best chance we've got.”

A humorless laugh escaped me. “I've never made less than a B in school, I hardly ever break the rules, and I avoid conflict like it's toxic waste. I made one mistake, just one, and this is what I get. I'll never try to impress a boy again.”

“It's gonna be okay,” he repeated more gently this time.

“Forget A.I.R. Shanel might never forgive me for losing her car.”

“You won't have lost it. You'll simply have to let it be impounded.”

Like that was any better. Maybe I'd have to tell my parents the truth after all. If I lied and got caught later, that would only increase my list of ever-growing sins. “That will draw Shanel into this mess. Which will eventually lead to meeee—” The word sputtered in my throat as we ground to an abrupt halt.

I sat up. Immediately I saw that a large brick wall blocked our frontward path. All three black sedans surrounded us in seconds, left, right, and behind.

Once again, we were pinned in.

“I guess you were right,” Erik muttered. He didn't sound upset. “I should have found a better way.”

Only darkness and brick greeted us. And disaster. Yes, disaster. The cars flashed high beams of light directly on us, illuminating everything they touched.

I faced Erik. He might have sounded unconcerned, but his expression was tight, furious, and his brown eyes were sparkling. I could see the glint of pyre-guns pointing at us, and suddenly wasn't so sure I wanted to turn myself in. “What should we do?”

His hands tightened on the wheel. “Like before, I'm open to suggestions.”

“Just—” What?

“Do you have a weapon?” he asked me.

Oh God. Weapon equaled blood and blood equaled pain. “No. And I don't want one. A gunfight is not the way to end this.”

Erik scrubbed a hand down his face. “You're right. If I was alone, I'd fight. With you here…”

With me here, he ran the risk of what? Hurting me? Oh God, oh God, oh God.

“Get out of the car,” a female voice suddenly echoed around us. “Both of you. Hands up and out.”

Erik didn't move. Neither did I. My heart galloped in my chest, trying to beat its way through my ribs inch by inch. “Erik,” I said. I didn't know what else to say. I was so scared.

“Don't look at me,” he said.

“Why?” I faced forward, but from the corner of my eye I watched as he moved his arms behind his back and withdrew a pyre-gun from the waist of his pants. Every ounce of moisture in my mouth dried, leaving only the taste of cotton and bile.

“I thought you didn't want to fight,” I asked, the panicked words nearly inaudible.

“I don't want to die, either.”

Die. I swallowed. If things ended badly, I could die a virgin; I
would
die a loser who'd supposedly dabbled in Onadyn. “Erik,” I said. “This is crazy. This is wrong on so many levels.”

He stared down at the weapon, as if he wasn't quite sure what he wanted to do with it. Yellow beams of fire were projected from pyre-guns, scorching everything in their path. Human, nonhuman. Didn't matter. Another little tidbit I'd picked up from my dad and television.

“Erik,” I repeated, his name a hoarse entreaty.

“Hell,” he grumped.

“Get out of the car!” the female voice said again. “Now! I'm sick of waiting.”

I gulped. “I'm going to get out now.”

“I'm going to create a distraction,” Erik said. “You're going to run.”

I gaped at him. I could see the long length of his lashes casting shadows over his cheek. Bleak shadows, frightening shadows.

“Understand?”

“No. I told you. Running now is stupid. Just give yourself up.”

A muscle ticked under his left eye. “Everything will turn out okay if you'll run and stay hidden until I can somehow clear your name.”

“But—”

“No buts. You're innocent, and I dragged you into it. You shouldn't have to deal with this.” He paused, then finally studied me. He growled low in his throat. “Promise me, Camille. Promise me you'll run and not look back.”

“That just makes me look all the more guilty.”

Our pursuers lost any hint of patience and flashed their lights. “Get out of the fucking car. I'm close to blowing it to pieces. Feel me?”

“They'll hurt you, Camille,” Erik said, still not moving from the vehicle. The dark brown of his eyes pierced me deeply. “They'll beat you and they'll torture you for answers you don't have. Don't try and be a hero tonight.”

Ha. I'd never tried to be a hero in my life. But more than making me look guilty, leaving him meant letting him endure questions about
me
, I suddenly realized.
He
might be beaten.
He
might be tortured.

“I'll stay,” I said, determined. “Maybe we can convince them that you—”

“You won't explain because you're not staying.” Erik reached behind him a second time, angling his arm up and somehow anchoring the gun at the back of his neck, making sure the high back of the seat hid his actions from the agents. “Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. I always am.”

He was lying, and we both knew it.

He didn't give me a chance to respond, though. “It's been nice knowing you, Camille. Now get ready to run,” he mumbled, and then he opened the car door.

I can do this
, I mentally chanted.
I can do this. I'm smart—sometimes
, I added.
I'll
make
them listen to me
. I just wished my nervous system would calm down. Blood raced through me, hotter than fire, burning, burning. A loud ringing echoed inside my ears.

Erik emerged from the car, hands at his sides. He pasted a cocky, come-and-get-me grin on his face. I stayed where I was, scared, trying to force the right words into my brain and yeah, praying this was a bad dream and I'd awaken any second.

“Hands up,” the voice said, and he slowly obeyed. “Camille Robins, get out on your side of the car.”

Hearing my name, I gasped in surprise. They
had
already figured out who I was. There would have been no reprieve for me, no matter how far I'd run or where I'd hidden.

Voice shaky, I commanded the car door to open. The moment I stood outside, I had to blink against the brightness of the halogens. My eyes even teared. “We're innocent,” I said. My legs were so weak I could barely hold myself up and had to latch onto the car.

“Hands up,” the voice shouted.

I let go and almost fell again. I had to lean my shoulder against the car for support.

“She's injured,” Erik said loudly, then whispered to me, “Almost time to run.”

“I'm staying,” I whispered back.

“We'll see.”

“I want to explain about tonight,” I called, trying to give details that helped both of us. I truly didn't want him hurt, either. “I'd never really spoken to Erik until tonight, so we couldn't have planned anything together. We—”

Erik cursed, and I realized our captors were racing toward us. Erik whipped the pyre-gun from its perch on his neck and started firing. Yellow-orange beams cut through the golden lights, through darkness, illuminating the shapes of three women. Each of them dove for cover and immediately shot back, their fire slamming into our car. Some were aimed directly at
me
.

I screamed and ducked. “I'm unarmed!”

Another blast hit just behind where I'd been standing.

Erik returned a steady stream of fire and worked his way behind the open driver-side door, using it as a shield.

“Run,” he shouted to me.

On instinct, I managed three crawl steps. Then I froze.
What are you doing? You can't leave!

“Run, you idiot,” Erik growled.

“No.”

Just then, a stream of yellow fire whizzed past my ear. It didn't touch me, but it was so hot my skin instantly blistered. My stomach twisted painfully and I scrambled behind the passenger door.

“She isn't fucking armed,” Erik shouted to the women.

“Drop your weapon,” someone shouted back. A girl, different from the one who had first spoken.

“Like hell,” he told her. He fired another shot and I heard the girl curse under her breath.

Yeah, I knew the feeling. I wanted to curse and scream and curse some more. “You have to believe me. We're innocent. Everything that happened tonight was a big misunderstanding.”

“The shot that grazed you was a warning, Camille,” one of the girl's said, fury dripping from her voice. “Next time I'm aiming for your heart. You want to live, you'll walk toward me, hands up. We'll go someplace quiet and talk.”

I made to straighten, and a beam hit just above my shoulder. Screaming, I ducked.
Were
they trying to kill me? “I thought—I thought—”

“They want you injured,” Erik explained. “They'll say anything to get their hands on you.”

“But I
am
injured!” And I no longer wanted to give myself over to these girls. I think, perhaps, I was safer with Erik.

“No, you're trapped,” a third female voice said, this one a purring rumble. “Much as I'd like to scratch your eyes out, Erik, we have orders to bring you in unharmed. If possible. But I don't care who the hell you are. It's open season on you
and
your little friend if you keep firing.”

Her words confused me. Who was he to them?

A second later, bright amber light exploded, consuming the night's darkness, brighter than the halogens, glowing and shining over me and Erik. No shadows remained.

We were spotlighted.

“Let Camille go, and I'll give myself up,” Erik shouted. “My aim hasn't been off, either, ladies. If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead.”

Someone laughed. Someone else snorted.
I
reeled. He would give himself up for me?

“Whatever you say, Erik,” the one with the scratchy, purring voice said.

“We'll let her go, no problem,” another said.

I think she was in charge since she was the first to have spoken to us and had an authoritative ring to her voice that the others didn't have. But even I knew she was lying—though I might have wished otherwise. No one shot at you only to let you go without incident.

“We really are innocent,” I said, trying again to make them understand as I squinted against the brightness of those stupid lights. Well,
I
really was innocent, at least. I couldn't see the girls, not even a hint of them. I could see only orange and gold spots and the darkness that surrounded them, a darkness I wanted to be a part of. My eyes once again watered and I had to look down at my boots. “The napkin you saw him give me is blank. And I followed him because I was mad at him. I wanted to ask him why he gave it to me. That's all.”

“Sounds like an interesting story and one I'd like to hear in more detail.”

I wish I could see them, judge their expressions.

“Surely you can agree to come in and talk to us.” This new voice was placating, soothing.

Good cop to the other two bad cops, perhaps. “I tried. You shot at me.”

“Give me another chance. I'll play nice.”

“Don't listen to them, Camille,” Erik barked.

I leaned my forehead against the coolness of the car door. My arm hung limply at my side, useless. My knees knocked together. I couldn't have moved if my life depended on it.

Maybe it did.

“You run and hide until everything's settled,” he said, “just like I told you.”

“For the last time, I said no!”

“What are you two arguing about over there?” the leader asked.

A hand suddenly cupped my shoulder and I gasped. I whipped my attention to the side, breath congealing in my throat. When I saw who was crouched behind me, I almost melted into a puddle of relief. Erik.

His expression was hard, guarded. “You should have run.” He didn't look at me as he spoke, but kept his attention straight ahead.

“I couldn't. You would be in way more trouble.”

His hand settled on my lower back. “You keep surprising me, Camille Robins.”

I kept surprising myself.

“I'm getting tired of waiting,” the purring one called. “I haven't met my kill ratio this week, and you're seriously pressing your luck.”

“Blow up the car then,” Erik taunted. “Our time is up anyway.”

I paled. Had he just told them to blow up our car?

“Don't tempt me. A lot of people want you dead, Erik. I just want to talk to you.”

If I'd had the strength, I would have slapped my hand against Erik's mouth so that he couldn't respond. As it was, he didn't incite her further. “Give me a moment to think,” he called.

“You don't have any options but death or surrender.”

“Let me think, damn it!”

Pause.

“One minute,” came the response. “And the countdown begins now. If you haven't made a decision by then, I'll make it for you. I've already given you more leeway than I've ever given any other. The fact that we were once friends is beginning to mean less and less.”

“So why'd you do it?” he said quietly. “Why'd you really stay with me?”

A moment passed before I realized he was talking to me. “We have one minute and you want to talk about this
now
?”

“Yes. So hurry.”

“They already knew my name,” I replied, trying to absorb his strength. His hair hung low, covering his eyebrows. There were frown lines around his mouth. And yet, he'd never looked sweeter.

“You didn't know that until a minute ago. Why?” he persisted.

He wanted the truth. Fine. I had nothing to lose at this point. “I couldn't just leave you here to die.”

“Even though I ignore you at school?”

“Even though.”

“Even though you think I'm a drug dealer?”

I caught the phrasing and blinked. He'd said “you think.” Not “I am.” In that moment, hope that he was just a regular guy who'd been misunderstood bloomed and spread. “Yeah.”

His expression had become vulnerable. Soft. As hopeful as I felt.

“Even though.”

“Stupid,” he said, but there was a lightness to his tone that hadn't been there before. “Brave.” And then he turned toward me and placed a soft kiss on my lips, shocking me.

The kiss didn't last long, but it shook me to the core.

Danger was all around us and there was a mental tick-tock in my mind, but I didn't care. Erik Troy had just given me a kiss. Not with tongue, like I'd dreamed of so many nights, but with caring—as if we were about to die and he wanted to savor his last few minutes on Earth.

Even though the kiss had stopped, he didn't immediately pull away. I breathed in his scent, as warm and crisp as the night, basking in this stolen moment. So badly I wanted his arms to wrap around me, to hold me close.

But they didn't, and I understood why. He couldn't remove his gun from the girls' sights. A sobering thought. And yet, this still managed to be the happiest moment of my life.

Maybe because, for the first time in my life, I realized I wasn't promised a tomorrow. Maybe because I'd crushed on him for so many months. Either way, I took comfort from the action. My determination to make it through this ordeal (alive) intensified.

“I'm not worth staying for,” he said. “Ever.”

A few minutes ago, I might have agreed with him. With that “even though you think I'm a drug dealer” comment, I wasn't so sure anymore. “Let me be the judge of that,” I replied.

He studied me for a moment. “I don't know what to make of you. You're—” Suddenly he squeezed off a shot in the girls' direction. “Do
not
come any closer, Phoenix.”

“Damn it, Erik!”

“You promised me a minute, and I've got a few seconds left.”

Phoenix. Hearing him say a name reminded me of the familiarity he had with these girls. “You know them?”

“Yeah. Unfortunately.”

“I'm getting tired of this, Erik,” Phoenix, the leader, growled. “You can't hold us off all night.”

“Listen, we both know I have information you want. You're not going to rush in and fight me.”

“You used to be one of us,” a new voice proclaimed.

Erik stiffened. A look of absolute defenselessness passed over his expression. “Cara?”

“Yeah,” Cara said, her voice hard, stiff. “I'm here, too. You almost killed me with your stuntman driving.”

Why had he stiffened? Why the defenselessness? And he'd once been an A.I.R. agent? He did seem to know a lot about them. And I'd never seen anyone use a weapon quite so expertly.

“You may not want to fight us,” Cara said, “but I'd love to smash your face in.”

Ex-girlfriend, I decided with a twinge of jealousy. “How long have you two been broken up?” I asked before I could stop myself.

Erik shrugged, pulling his attention back to me. “How'd you know we dated?”

I tapped a fingertip to my temple. “Smart.”

“A few months,” he said with a small grin.

“What'd you do to make her so mad?”

His lips pursed, destroying all hint of that grin. “Not a good time to discuss that.”

“Just like you know we won't kill you,” Cara added as if there had never been a lag in their conversation, “we know you won't kill us.”

“You don't know anything about me,” he growled darkly. “Not anymore. Maybe not ever.”

Pause.

“I'm approaching, and if you singe a single hair on my head I'll kill you the way I've wanted for months,” Cara said.

“Sure you want to risk it, babe?” he said to her. “I've wanted to hurt you, too. I've dreamed of it, in fact.”