Page 98 of Stealing Mercury
“Stay behind me,” Samantha whispered. “Keep me between you and Drake.”
She pointed the pistol in Drake’s general direction, knowing the time had come to make the sort of life and death decision Mercury had faced over and over in the arena. Kill or be killed. If it were only her life, she might make a different decision. But Hera stood terrified behind her and Carn would never get over her death. Carn. Wise, kind Carn.
“Oh, no.” In a flash of insight, Samantha understood. Realization stabbed hard in her belly. It slithered under her ribcage and slogged upward, like a writhing snake forcing its way up her throat. Mercury hadn’t come back to Roma for Hera. He’d done it for Carn.
Samantha could hear the whoosh of her pulse in her ears.Mercury had come back to Roma for Carn.That bit of wisdom echoed loud above the sudden surge of her heart rate. She shut it away for later consideration and focused on the moment.
As long as there weren’t any guards beyond the fence, getting over it seemed like their best option. Beyond the dangerous barrier, the land was bereft of foliage, but it wasn’t level. A ditch or a rise could serve as cover, either for a rescuer or for them, if they could clear the fence.
“Be smart, Sam,” said Drake. “Put the weapon down.”
“I don’t think so.”
Drake’s pistol was the real problem. The guards would have to chase them down to use the stun-sticks and Samantha was willing to bet Hera could make it to the fence before they could close the distance.
The thought of what she was about to do made Samantha lightheaded. Her belly clenched and bile rose up the back of her throat.
Samantha pressed her lips together.
She lifted the pistol higher and took aim at the center of Drake’s chest.
She squeezed the trigger.
And nothing happened.
Frustration and... relief warred in her gut. Her hands shook with the reality of what she’d been willing to do. For Mercury. Not for Hera. Not for Carn. For the man she loved more than her own moral high ground.
Drake shook his head. “Sam, I’m so disappointed. Did you really think I’d let you get your hands on a functioning weapon?” Smug confidence etched his features like the macabre grin of a slither-constrictor with a squirming rodent halfway down its gullet.
Sam dropped the gun and held her hands out.
“Rachel.” Against her will, the name came out with all the grief she was feeling. Grief for what the woman had put Lo through. Grief for the chance that help would come that had just slipped away.
If the gun was a plant, the remote might be, too.
Drake laughed—a cruel sound. “Poor, ugly Rachel has no idea what she’s done. She doesn’t even know we’ve been watching her for months. It was easy to make sure she overheard exactly what we wanted her to and even easier to swap out the pistol she left you. She led you right to us.”
Samantha sucked in that bit of information like a fire chasing after fuel. If Rachel hadn’t been working against them, she might still be able to send help.
Drake started walking toward them to close the distance. “It’s time to be sensible. If you cooperate, I can guarantee you won’t be harmed.”
Samantha shook her head. “You’ll let me go? I don’t think so.”
“I’ll hand you over to the Alliance law officers and you’ll get a fair trial,” he promised.
He knew she had Cerrillian blood. That she could never get fair treatment from the Alliance authorities. She wanted to laugh at the absurdity, but she needed to keep him talking so she could think. “What charges?”
“I’m not negotiating here,” he shouted back. “I’m offering you a way out of this that doesn’t end in you never leaving this estate.” Drake shoved the pistol into a sheath hanging from his waist and tapped the whip against his hip.
Samantha’s heart raced right into her throat. Drake’s arrogance might have given them a chance. Samantha pitched her voice low again, for Hera. “Reach down to the pocket on my left thigh.” Drake was watching Samantha and paying no attention to where Hera’s hands were. “There’s a sparker—a small metal strip. Pull it out and when I say, snap it and toss it ten meters in front of us, but don’t look at it.” She raised her voice for Drake’s benefit. “Why should I make it easy on you?”
“Because things can always be worse.” Drake started uncoiling the whip in his hands.
Hera, bless her, managed to get the sparker out of her pocket without freaking out.
Under her breath, Samantha said, “can you get over the fence, if I bring the power down?”
“Yes, I think so.”
