Page 78 of Uncontrolled

Two hunters at the top landing look at me. I see a third behind them. A young girl I can only assume is Keeley edges around torsos to get a better view. I ease another step.

“Get out of my way,” I tell the raven-haired girl, Zen, as I draw the knife from my waist. Above, the stairs creak as the other two move to pin me. I swing toward them, gesturing with the blade. “Back off,” I warn.

Zen’s unarmed and three steps below me. I kick. My foot slams into her throat and she’s doubled over before anyone above reacts. I dart forward, but though she’s gagging out horrific sounds, she’s conscious and blocking my way. I stab and catch skin near her collarbone, draw a trickle of blood. It’s enough that Zen reconsiders and pitches herself against the wall, giving me space to rocket past.

In the chaos, I hear the thump of palms, an oof behind me, the unmistakable sound of a push. A body slams against me and we tumble, a mass of limbs and cries until we come to rest at the bottom of the staircase, me on top. Christopher, dazed, stares up at me. If he wanted, he could put his arms around me. Instead, he splays them against the walls and winces in pain.

“Are you hurt?” he asks. “Allie? What—”

Before they pull me off Christopher, I lean close and whisper, “They know you lied to them.”

My hands are yanked violently behind me. The snick of what can only be cable ties sends the sharp bite of plastic digging into my wrists.

A burly asshole sets me on my feet. He’s a textbook ’roid rage jock from his angry growl of a face to his bulging biceps and so I wait instead of fighting, biding my time for an opening. They didn’t straight up kill me, which means I’ve got a shot at escape.

“Is this how you treat all your gu—”

My quip cuts short as Zen’s punch slams into my jaw.

Ploy

As East yanks Allie backward and off me, I force a grimace. They know I lied to them? About what? Her? Jamison’s death? Corbin?

One of Allie’s ankles rolls and her shoe digs into my stomach before it slides off the side. She stands defiant, arms locked behind her, her smirking presence like a mirage I both crave and fear. My brain spits through scenarios, each more wild than the last as to what the hell she’s doing here.

Her lip lifts in a sneer. I miss the start of her snarky comment watching Zen’s curling fist, and everyone misses the end as Allie’s cut off by Zen’s vicious right hook.

Allie groans. Her shoulder lifts in instinct as she tries to bring her hand around to cup her jaw, but the zip ties keep her from moving.

She gives Zen a once over. “Don’t look so satisfied,” she says. “You couldn’t draw blood until I had both hands tied behind my back.”

Before Zen can take another shot at Allie, Nico grabs her.

Once it’s clear Zen’s being restrained, Allie tongues the inside of her lip. “Didn’t even draw blood then,” she says.

I’m trying to catch Allie’s notice from where I sit on the floor, sending her psychic warnings not to antagonize them. After Nico’s little “zip ties” comment earlier, and the proof she has them ready to use, I need to play my cards exactly right if I have any hope of getting both Allie and myself out of here. Now that they have her, they’ve got no use for me.

Allie’s attention snaps to me. “You double crossing asshole!” she screams and my brain skips before I realize she’s padding my cover. “The entire time?”

She might hate me, but I’m her best chance at escape and she knows it.

“Since day one,” I snarl.

Keeley offers me a hand and I grip her wrist, using the leverage to drag myself off the floor. I pulled a couple muscles, and I’ll sport some bruises, but the fall didn’t cost me any broken bones. I’m pretty sure I don’t have enough healing ability left from when Allie resurrected me to make a difference.

“Holy shit, Nico,” Quinn says. “She came right to us!”

Nico’s beaming with pride. “This will be the easiest cash we ever made.” She signals Quinn. “Send him a DM. Tell him we got her. Ask when he can be here or what happens n—”

“Wait,” East cuts in.

A ripple of trepidation runs through me at the hungry look he’s giving Allie. She watches him, leery.

“This Doctor guy, he won’t care if we take a little of her blood for ourselves,” he says.

At the first three words, the color drains from Allie’s flushed cheeks. “Doctor,” she stammers. Then her gaze rips to lock on mine. “The Doctor?”

Opening my mouth, I hesitate, not sure what I’m allowed to say.

---