I run for the door, but I’m exhausted from the effort of reading him, and in seconds, Christophe’s on me, grabbing me around the neck and smashing my head into the wall. My vision fades for a moment and pain rushes through my brain. I can feel a warm wetness trickle down my neck, and my arms flail as my hands grab for anything I can find to get him off me.
Christophe’s face is just inches from my own, and I can see flecks of spit fly as he speaks. “You think you can use your empath skills to read me?” he asks, his voice a harsh whisper. “I’m not going to let someone like you destroy all of the work we’ve put into this.” He tightens his grip around my throat and I can hear myself choking, even as shadows creep in around the edges of my vision. With the last bit of energy I have left, I bring one knee up into his groin as hard as I can. His hands loosen enough for me to pull away as he shouts in agony, and I stumble for the door, gasping for air. I push on it hard before I remember that it opens inward, but only manage to give it a small tug before Christophe jumps up behind me and slams it shut again, twisting an oversized lock that will keep anyone out.
I look around frantically for anything to defend myself with. The kidnapper is moving on the ground, but he’s still secured to the chair, so I focus on Christophe. He’s coming at me, slowly this time, like he’s going to make sure he enjoys every second of whatever’s going to happen next.
“Even if they hear you,” he says in a ragged voice, glancing upstairs with a grin, “it doesn’t matter.”
I push myself against the wall, as far from him as I can get in the small room. “But they’ll know you did it,” I say, trying to buy some time. “They’ll know you’re not one of us.”
He looks at me like I’m stupid. “I may not be Sekhem, but I’m still Akhet.” He glances down at the guy on the floor. “Good thing he’s here to take the blame.”
I can feel cold sweat running down my back as I frantically look for a way out. Christophe’s reflexes are lightning fast, and he has my left hand bent painfully behind my back before I can even move. I close my eyes and reach for one end of the tall metal shelving against the wall and pull with everything I’ve got, bringing them crashing down onto the floor. Canned food and bottles of water spill out all over the room and the heavy shelf catches Christophe’s leg, knocking him to the ground as I twist out of his grip.
I race for the door, clawing at the lock until I can finally turn the knob and wrench it open enough to slip through it. I manage to scream for Giselle just as Christophe bursts through the door and throws me to the floor. Christophe’s knees are on my legs, pinning me down on the ground as he looms over me, and I know that this time he’ll finish me. His hands go around my throat again, tighter this time, his face red and distorted from the effort. I’m trying to grab at his arms, but he’s so much bigger than I am that I’m just clawing at the air. I’m starting to lose consciousness when I suddenly feel the weight lifted off of me, and I roll onto my side with gasping, coughing breaths. Someone pulls at my shoulder and I’m on my back, looking up at Giselle. Her face is a mask of concern as she shakes me gently.
“He’s one of them,” I gasp, stopped by a fit of coughing. “I saw airplanes. A runway.” I can’t manage any more words. Her face is swimming in front of me and my ears are rushing with static. Christophe knows where they’ve taken Rayne; she’s got to get it out of him.
“It’s okay,” Giselle says, her breathing hard and quick. She gently checks the lump on my head before pulling herself up off the floor. I can barely hear her last words as the room fades around me. “It’s all in Christophe’s phone.”
I hear voices, but it’s so nice and comfortable where I am, I don’t want to open my eyes.
“She’s coming around,” I hear someone say, and I force myself into consciousness, everything that’s happened in the past few hours rushing back to me in a flood of images and emotions.
“Where’s Rayne?” I sit up quickly as my vision fragments into stars and my head pounds.
I feel hands on my shoulders pushing me back against soft cushions. “She’s fine,” Drew says softly. “You need to take it easy. You’ve been out for almost an hour.”
I squint in the light coming from the lamp on the table next to me and look around. I’m not in the safe room anymore, but in what looks like a library straight out of a Sherlock Holmes novel, with wood-paneled walls and shelves full of books. There’s a blanket over me, and my heels are neatly positioned next to the couch. “Where is she?” I repeat, putting a hand to the lump on the back of my head. I can feel dried blood back there too, but my fingers come away clean.
“They’re on the way back here,” he says. “They found Rayne and the others at the executive airport, about to get on a plane.” He leans down and kisses me gently on the forehead. I can see the concern in his eyes. “God, I was so worried about you.”
I look around. Peter’s in a chair by a curtained window staring at the two of us, but there’s nobody else in the room.
“Where’s Giselle?” I ask, remembering her face downstairs. She must have pulled Christophe off of me. My heart pounds at the memory of his hands around my neck.
“In the safe room still, watching over the prisoner.”
I try to sit up again more slowly. “What about Christophe?”
Drew shakes his head. “Gone.”
“But he was part of the plot the whole time,” I say, struggling to sit up again. “He knew about everything, he was in on it with the kidnapper—”
“ ‘Gone’ as in ‘dead,’ Cole,” Drew interrupts. “Giselle snapped his neck. She had to, to get him off you.” He glances back at Peter. “He’d been texting the kidnappers right out in the open, telling them everything we found out. Figured nobody would suspect him, I guess. Until you did.” He gets up and crosses the room, bringing back a glass of water. “Drink this; you’ll feel better.”
The glass trembles in my hand, but the water is cool on my throat. “I saw the way they looked at each other,” I say. “And I knew right then he was one of them.”
“So you can read minds?” Peter says from across the room. They’re the first words he’s spoken since I woke up.
I glance at him. He looks a little disheveled and confused. He’s slouched in the chair with his arms crossed in front of his chest, and I don’t blame him. I’m not sure how much he knows, but it must be a lot to deal with. “Not exactly,” I say. I look at Drew.
“I didn’t know how much to tell him,” Drew says.
“I can’t read minds,” I say. “But I can read emotions and sometimes interpret images in other people. I’m good at visual cues that other people miss. Does that make sense?”
“Not really,” he admits. He looks from me to Drew. “What are you people, anyway? Nobody wants to tell me, but I know something’s going on.”
I decide he deserves to know the truth. “Akhet,” I say. “People who remember their past lives. Rayne became one of us when Veronique gave her the ergotoxin she created. Which is what the guys who took her are after.” I can see him struggling to accept what I’m saying. “You should really ask Griffon. He’s better at explaining all this.”
We hear the front door slam and footsteps echo in the entryway. Drew pulls the door open and sticks his head out into the hallway. “We’re in here.”
I stand up at the sound of feet pounding down the hallway, just as Rayne bursts through the door. For the first time since this all started, my eyes well up at the sight of her, as she jumps up to hug Peter, who looks like he’s never going to let her go. “Oh my God, I’ve never been so freaked out in my whole life!” she says, breathless, when he finally puts her down. “I was so scared, but I knew you would come and get me.” She comes over to give me a hug, but pulls back and puts one finger on my neck. “What happened?” She looks into my face, confused.