“Oh, and Marne from Pretty Ballerina Dance called to ask if you’d come by and talk to her advanced classes. She says you’re an inspiration.” Her mom’s voice brightened with pride.
To sacrifice dancing to end the threat of the wolf was excruciating, but conceivable.
“Honey?”
To allow the wolf to hurt her mom or her brother or Custo…There wasn’t even a decision to be made.
Annabella cleared her throat to keep the emotion out of her voice. “Yeah, Mom, I’m here. Listen, I have to go…”
Custo had given himself up for Adam, the closest thing to family he had. Annabella could give herself up for her mom and for him. Easy. No matter how scared she felt—and her terror was mounting steadily—she just had to shove it into the back of her mind. Let part of her brain go crazy screaming, which it already was, while the rest of her did what was necessary. All she needed was endurance, and she’d been training for that all her life.
“But what about Marne?”
“Tell her yes, Mom,” Annabella answered. It wouldn’t matter one way or another. “Really, I have to go. Love you.”
The trick was getting away from Adam and Custo, and both at the moment were distracted by Dr. Powell and her increasingly agitated answers:
“I don’t know what you’re suggesting by…”
“I’ll have to look in my notes…”
“No, I have never passed information out of…”
There was no better time. Annabella stepped back, silent on her sneakered feet. The exit was open.
Hesitation would cost her the opportunity, so with three soft steps, Annabella was out the door and into the corridor.
Any moment now Custo or Adam would realize she was missing. She had to get out of Segue, find a dance studio, some place familiar, and then maybe she could ignite a bit of talent to attempt a cross. She should have gone with the wolf the night of the gala performance and ended this nightmare before it started.
Video cameras followed her as she ran down the underground tunnel. She heard a shout, but didn’t stop.
Not even when she sensed the hulk of the wolf at her side, running with her.
Of course the wolf would be there, with her, waiting for the moment when his trap would spring shut. He had to be there when she realized that he’d found the bait that would decide her, that would have her leaving the safety of her protectors.
She’d forgotten about the enormous, code-locked exit, and was astonished to find it open, the thick metal door ajar. She ran through it, just as the door began to close again. The wolf leaped through in a haze of Shadow.
Zoe stood on the other side, alone in the cavernous tunnel, looking bored and put-upon, and very strange without makeup and dressed in the same oversize Segue sweats that Annabella herself wore.
Annabella stumbled to a stop. The wolf crouched, growling beside her, ready to rip Zoe’s throat out.
The girl didn’t seem to care. “Through there,” she said, pointing sullenly. “Abigail says it’s the only way. Any other direction and lots of people die.”
Zoe pointed toward an unmarked concrete doorway.
“Is that the way out?” Annabella asked. She thought they were deep underground. The big yellow lift to the surface was on the other side of Zoe.
“Storage,” Zoe said.
“Abigail wants me to go to a storage closet? Why?”
Zoe shrugged. “Code is 852137. Took her all night to figure that out, by the way, while you were off getting some nookie. Abigail saw that, too; she liked the ‘arrest’ position the best, says it was damn hot, but the one where Custo put your leg up…”
The wolf growled low in his chest.
Annabella’s face heated. The idea that she and Custo had had a voyeur last night made her sick. But if Abigail had seen that…
“Off you go,” Zoe said.
…then maybe she knew a way to get out of Segue.
How Annabella remembered the code, she didn’t know. But the little light turned green and the lock clicked. She grabbed the lever and pushed. The wolf brushed by her to enter, and she followed him into pitch.
The door closed with a devastating soft snick, triggering her fear. Alone, in the dark, with the wolf. She felt his bristling fur brush by her body, his nose at her crotch. His rapid panting and her choking breaths filled the void. A scream pushed its way up her throat. She clenched her teeth to keep it from escaping, her body breaking out in a cold sweat.
Light, a half-sane part of her brain suggested.
Shaking, she fumbled for a light switch, found it, and flicked. Then collapsed against the cold concrete wall behind her, trying to draw on its solidity to bolster her caving nerves.
The wolf backed a pace, regarding her, then barked. It was a formless sound, but she understood the command. Dance!
“I can’t here. I’m trying to find another way out,” she said, brushing away wetness on her cheeks. Custo had told her she needed to learn to control her magic. Now there was no time left to learn.
Anger rolled from the beast’s chest as she looked around the room. It was packed with stuff, leaving little space to move. No way out. The smell was metallic and dusty-old at the same time, but far better than the wraith cells. White sheets covered narrow panels closest to her, obscuring the boxes and crates beyond. Maybe if she climbed up, there would be an escape. Otherwise she was trapped. Custo and Adam would find her any second. And the wolf would attack.
Putting as much distance as she could between her and the snarling wolf, Annabella inched by one of the panels to get to a box. She climbed a couple crate steps upward, but couldn’t see anything other than more crates, and the wood didn’t look very sound. Where was the way out?
The wolf barked again, and she whipped her head around, fear trembling her body.
He was facing one of the larger panels. The sheet had fallen off.
Annabella angled her head to see what bothered him. It was a canvas, one of Kathleen’s, depicting the great Other-world of the Shadowlands.
Annabella scrambled down and ripped the coverings from the other panels. All were Kathleen’s art. A stack of three looked very similar to the ones that hung in Adam’s bedroom apartment. She inspected them closer; they were the same paintings. Had to be.
Why were they here? Why was Kathleen’s art shoved out of sight, locked in the bowels of Segue?
The wolf’s body pressed at her legs, urging her forward. Its tail brushed her thigh, its growl vibrating on her skin. A shudder ran through her at what was to come, her body tightening with deep apprehension…but not desire. The realization was quick and sharp. She didn’t want the wolf anymore, not that way. Not any way. She loved Custo. The wolf might have tricked her into going with him to Shadow, but he’d never be able to really reach her now. Not after the night she’d spent with Custo. The satisfaction of that knowledge gave her the strength to go on, though her stomach clenched, shakes mounting.
Annabella turned back to the large painting. It portrayed a shadow-laden copse, ageless trees stretching upward, exceeding the boundaries of the canvas. Though darkness saturated the area, the trunks, gnarled branches, and hanging purple leaves had their own illumination, a shimmer of magic imbued by Kathleen’s imagination and rendered by her brush. If Annabella allowed her eyes to lose focus, she could almost see the boughs moving.
Oh.
So Abigail had shown her the way out. The one with the least amount of violence, just as Zoe said.