do so. I hike up my dress and shove the Trace underneath and against my belly, just managing to keep my balance as I do so. I have to brace myself with one hand against the wall when I pull the hem back down. The dress is tight enough that the Trace is snug against my skin.
‘OK.’
O’Shea turns back round. ‘You realise you look like you’re about five months’ pregnant?’
I glance down. ‘I guess so. This baby has got a hell of a kick for five months though.’ The words have barely left my mouth when I’m flung against the wall once more. The only thing that stops me from being squashed against it is the bulge of the Trace acting as a barrier between the pebble-dash and my skin. I pray the globe won’t break easily.
‘Ready?’ I ask grimly.
O’Shea bites his lip and nods. ‘I hope that when they lock me up and throw away the key I at least get some good-looking soldiers to guard me.’ His light words belie the tremor in his voice. I shouldn’t have dragged him into this. It’s not as if I’m investigating Tobias Renfrew for any reason other than curiosity. We’ve come too far now though.
I wish I had my little pebble with me. I could do with some reassuring solidity. Instead I take a deep breath. ‘OK dokey.’
I step back to the door. The Trace reacts almost immediately and I’m thrown through to the corridor on the other side. A split second later I’m dragged down the hall as the Trace continues its inexorable pull towards the time orbs.
I’d have let it yank me the whole way but I spot a bucket outside a small door and force myself to stop. Although it feels like I’m fighting against gravity itself, I lurch over and fling it open.
‘Bo, what the hell are you doing?’
‘Here,’ I say I reach inside, grab a broom and toss it to him.
He catches it and frowns. ‘I’m well aware that I’m your sidekick, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to act as general dogsbody too.’ I give him an exasperated look. ‘Wait, you’re not going to…’
‘ We , O’Shea. We are going to.’
He tuts. ‘I’m never going to live this down.’
‘If it works,’ I promise, ‘no one will ever know.’
I relax slightly and let the Trace continue its magnetic pull. Now that it’s getting closer to its destination, it’s easier to handle. I hope the theory that the further away it is from whatever it’s seeking the stronger it feels holds true once we start to leave the base. It’s the only way the escape plan will work.
We twist through the labrynthine corridors, passing laboratories, offices and classrooms. Things become more awkward when the Trace yanks me down a flight of stairs leading to the basement; it’s almost impossible to stay on my feet. When there are only a few steps left I think I’ve managed it, but my over-confidence is my downfall. I trip, tumbling headfirst and landing in an ungainly heap at the bottom.
‘Bo! Are you OK?’
My ankle feels twisted and sore. If I were still human I’d probably be unable to walk – but then again, when I was human I’d never have attempted something as foolhardy, reckless or illegal as this.
O’Shea helps me up and I stumble a few steps, gingerly testing my weight. With each step, the pain dissipates. He registers my look of surprise and grins. ‘Cool to be a vampire with those regenerative skills, huh?’
I smile back. ‘You know, it is.’ Then something else hits me. ‘The Trace,’ I whisper. ‘It’s not pulling me any more.’
Both O’Shea and I look around. Several boxes are piled neatly on the floor, each one with an official-looking tag prominently displayed on the front. I crouch down, open the first one then recoil.
‘Fingers,’ I say, utterly disgusted.
‘Eh?’
O’Shea peers inside. Rather than having a similar reaction to me, his expression changes to one of awe. He reaches in and pulls out one long-nailed specimen. ‘Do you know how rare these are?’
‘Jesus, get rid of it! We don’t have time for
‘OK.’
O’Shea turns back round. ‘You realise you look like you’re about five months’ pregnant?’
I glance down. ‘I guess so. This baby has got a hell of a kick for five months though.’ The words have barely left my mouth when I’m flung against the wall once more. The only thing that stops me from being squashed against it is the bulge of the Trace acting as a barrier between the pebble-dash and my skin. I pray the globe won’t break easily.
‘Ready?’ I ask grimly.
O’Shea bites his lip and nods. ‘I hope that when they lock me up and throw away the key I at least get some good-looking soldiers to guard me.’ His light words belie the tremor in his voice. I shouldn’t have dragged him into this. It’s not as if I’m investigating Tobias Renfrew for any reason other than curiosity. We’ve come too far now though.
I wish I had my little pebble with me. I could do with some reassuring solidity. Instead I take a deep breath. ‘OK dokey.’
I step back to the door. The Trace reacts almost immediately and I’m thrown through to the corridor on the other side. A split second later I’m dragged down the hall as the Trace continues its inexorable pull towards the time orbs.
I’d have let it yank me the whole way but I spot a bucket outside a small door and force myself to stop. Although it feels like I’m fighting against gravity itself, I lurch over and fling it open.
‘Bo, what the hell are you doing?’
‘Here,’ I say I reach inside, grab a broom and toss it to him.
He catches it and frowns. ‘I’m well aware that I’m your sidekick, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to act as general dogsbody too.’ I give him an exasperated look. ‘Wait, you’re not going to…’
‘ We , O’Shea. We are going to.’
He tuts. ‘I’m never going to live this down.’
‘If it works,’ I promise, ‘no one will ever know.’
I relax slightly and let the Trace continue its magnetic pull. Now that it’s getting closer to its destination, it’s easier to handle. I hope the theory that the further away it is from whatever it’s seeking the stronger it feels holds true once we start to leave the base. It’s the only way the escape plan will work.
We twist through the labrynthine corridors, passing laboratories, offices and classrooms. Things become more awkward when the Trace yanks me down a flight of stairs leading to the basement; it’s almost impossible to stay on my feet. When there are only a few steps left I think I’ve managed it, but my over-confidence is my downfall. I trip, tumbling headfirst and landing in an ungainly heap at the bottom.
‘Bo! Are you OK?’
My ankle feels twisted and sore. If I were still human I’d probably be unable to walk – but then again, when I was human I’d never have attempted something as foolhardy, reckless or illegal as this.
O’Shea helps me up and I stumble a few steps, gingerly testing my weight. With each step, the pain dissipates. He registers my look of surprise and grins. ‘Cool to be a vampire with those regenerative skills, huh?’
I smile back. ‘You know, it is.’ Then something else hits me. ‘The Trace,’ I whisper. ‘It’s not pulling me any more.’
Both O’Shea and I look around. Several boxes are piled neatly on the floor, each one with an official-looking tag prominently displayed on the front. I crouch down, open the first one then recoil.
‘Fingers,’ I say, utterly disgusted.
‘Eh?’
O’Shea peers inside. Rather than having a similar reaction to me, his expression changes to one of awe. He reaches in and pulls out one long-nailed specimen. ‘Do you know how rare these are?’
‘Jesus, get rid of it! We don’t have time for
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