Suddenly, a sharp, burning pain exploded in his shoulder. The force of the impact spun him around, his vision blurring. “What the—” he gasped, his hand instinctively reaching for the wound.
Paige’s eyes widened in shock. “Cody!”
He staggered, trying to maintain his balance. The world tilted on its axis, sounds becoming muffled and distant. Through the haze of pain, he caught a glimpse of movement across the street—a shadowy figure lowering what looked like a rifle.
“Get ... in ...” He choked the words out, gesturing weakly at the dumpster. He needed to make sure Paige was safe, even as his own consciousness began to slip away.
But she didn’t move. Instead, she rushed to his side, catching him as his legs gave way. “I’m not leaving you,” she said firmly, lowering him gently to the ground.
“Stay with me, Cody,” she urged, her voice sounding far away. “You don’t get to check out that easily.”
As darkness crept in at the edges of his vision, his last coherent thought was a confused blend of gratitude and frustration. Paige was risking everything by staying with him, but he couldn’t deny the comfort of her presence.
The rough pavement scraped against his palms as he struggled to sit upright.
“Faraday cage,” he said. Or at least he thought he did.
His brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders anymore, and his tongue was thick. Unresponsive.
“F-fara … day. Hurry.”
His body went limp, his cheek pressed against the broken pavement. The last thing he felt before losing consciousness completely was Paige’s hand on his shoulder, her touch both calming and condemning.
Then, nothing.
6
She knewCody would be fine.
Still, Paige’s heart pounded as she crouched over his unconscious form. The rough asphalt bit into her knees, a far cry from the plush carpets mere yards away. A broken champagne flute glittered nearby, its contents forming a small, shimmering puddle that reflected the garish neon of a distant sign.
Mason loped toward her, his boots crunching on scattered cigarette butts and discarded betting slips. His rifle, sleek and deadly, seemed almost beautiful in its incongruity with the squalid surroundings.
She tried to smile up at him, but her face was too tense. “Nice shot.”
He stared at Cody and made a face, his expression illuminated by the harsh glare of a flickering streetlight. “Eh. A quarter inch to the left would have been optimal. Coulda dropped him faster that way.”
“No worries. I wouldn’t have been able to catch him then.”
Mason gave her a long look as he knelt next to Cody, the gravel crunching under his weight. “Yeah. I know.”
The tranquilizer had worked fast, but they weren’t safe yet. The screech of tires echoed off the alley walls, amplified by thenarrow space. Paige tensed, but relief washed over her as she recognized the battered utility van careening around the corner, its headlights briefly illuminating a colorful mural of playing cards hidden behind years of grime and graffiti.
Nothing like their usual roaming accomodations, but they’d commandeered worse over the years.
“Go time,” she muttered, hooking her arms under Cody’s shoulders as the van skidded to a stop beside them, kicking up a small cloud of dust and debris. The side door flew open with a rusty groan, revealing Bridger and Tai ready to assist.
Mason brushed her aside, assisting the two men to sling Cody into the van. She scrambled in after them, and Graham gunned the engine before she’d even fully closed the door.
“Sorry for the delay,” Fenn called from the passenger seat, his usual grin replaced by a look of concentration. “Had to take the scenic route to avoid some unwanted attention.”
Her stomach clenched. “Consortium?”
“Yup. Dressed as LEOs.”
Fenn wouldn’t have seen the operatives for more than an instant. “How could you tell?”
He tossed her a trademark grin. “Sidearms weren’t standard issue. Plus, one of them was talking on his in-ear comlink.”