Page 27 of Martyr
Does Kade have a gun trained on him?
I glance around, half expecting Artemis to be giving chase. But the street beyond is relatively quiet.
Isle of Paradise isn’t exactly a tourist destination. Especially in the winter.
So that gives me two choices: I go back for Artemis, thus potentially losing KadeandSaint, or I try to catch up with Kade and reason with him.
Oh.
Wait.
Three choices.
I happen to have a secret specialty skill, and it will be perfect put to use and cause a distraction.
I make a beeline into the closest store and slap a fifty-dollar bill down on the counter next to the clerk. “I have a favor to ask…”
13ARTEMIS
I endup telling Dr. Hawthorne more than I probably should. I pace in her office the whole time, in front of the couch, too upset to even consider sitting. My fingernails dig at my arms, the crooks of my elbows.
“Take a breath, Tem.”
I still. “You want me tobreathe?”
“You’re speaking a hundred miles a minute, so, yes.” She tilts her head. “I’ve already alerted the marina that someone is trying to remove one of our residents against his will. They will stop it.”
I scoff. “You’vemetKade Laurent before, right?”
She doesn’t have a response to that. It’s laughable to even think some guy locking the gate to the marina would stop him?
“Are you sending people to find Saint?” I ask her. “What if he stashed a boat on the dock closer to the center?—”
“Artemis,” Dr. Hawthorne warns. “Please.”
“Please?” I laugh. “Do some fucking research next time. This place is supposed to offer safe harbor?—”
“And it does?—”
“Yeah, until one of your donors comes calling and kidnaps a guy with amnesia!” I shriek.
I can’t stay here for this. I exit her office and hurry to the first floor. I weave around other residents, most of which are now familiar faces, and speed-walk to the exit. Out the door, into the frigid air.
My pace picks up when Dr. Hawthorne shouts my name behind me.
I’m halfway down the trail when a sound like a canon goes off. A split second later, the ground shakes. I stumble and catch myself on a tree, staring in the direction of the sound.
A siren goes up through the air.
What the fuck?
Last year, my brother and I found a subway car packed with explosives. It was part of a takeover plot, and we barely made it out of there without detonating it. That sound—the way the force of it shook the ground under us—feels an awful lot like this.
Fear kicks my body into overdrive. I sprint down the trail, bursting off the path into the town.Everyoneis outside. Visible over the buildings is a plumb of smoke rising into the air. Forced to go slower, I head in that direction. A firetruck turns onto the main street ahead of us, blasting its horn to get people to move. The vehicle looks like it’s two decades old.
Murmurs follow me. There’s a slight stigma about those of us who come for…rehabilitation. The trauma center funds the island, but alas. It apparently doesn’t matter all that much when the residents have a variety of quirks.
This street funnels to the small marina. I’d bet most of the townsfolk have their own boats, and Reese had docked here.
