Moonshifted(85)

I wanted to run after Charles—but I didn’t want to leave Meaty alone.

“That’s unacceptable,” Meaty told whoever was on the other end of the line, then cupped a hand over the receiver. “Edie—fire drill. Now.”

Fire-drill protocol was to close all the doors just in case. I went down the hall to tell Rachel and Gina, and then went from room to room for the rest of the floor, starting with Charles’s daytimer. The man waved at me as I closed his door. I halfheartedly waved back.

When I returned, I gave Meaty a thumbs-up sign. Still on the phone, Meaty nodded and continued to frown. “No. I don’t care who you have to find. We have a contract with you.” Meaty’s voice dropped as the conversation continued. “I shouldn’t have to remind you about our agreement—the Consortium requires you,” Meaty said, then stopped and pulled the receiver away to glare at it.

“Meaty—what’s going on?”

Meaty slammed the red phone down in disgust. “They’re leaving.”

“Who?”

“The Shadows. A prisoner of theirs escaped, and they’re giving chase.” Meaty glared at the phone as if sheer anger could change things.

“Leaving?” I whispered.

Meaty’s gaze rose to mine. “No one else can know of this. Go get Charles.”

I wanted to ask more questions, but I ran off the floor.

* * *

I found Charles in the men’s locker room. I entered after I knocked on the door. “Charles—”

“Don’t even try to stop me, Edie.” I’d never been into the men’s locker room before. It looked a lot like the women’s, only there were a ton more empty lockers here. I looked away while Charles finished pulling on his clothing for outdoors. “If they’re gone, there’s no reason to stay.”

“Maybe they’ll be back fast,” I said, aware of how lame it sounded.

“Are you willing to bet your life on it?” The inside of Charles’s locker was decorated with black-and-white photos of a lovely middle-aged woman. He pulled out all his belongings and started taking down the pictures.

“She’s beautiful,” I said.

“She is. And I’m going to go spend some time with her now.” The photos he carefully pressed into an ancient nursing care book, then put this into a bag. “If the Shadows are gone, I don’t know how long we have left. I’m taking her, and I’m going away. Someplace warm—someplace safe.”

“You’ll take your cell phone with you, right?”

“Sure. But don’t bother texting me until this is through.” He pushed his feet into winter boots and reached for the door behind me. “It’s been nice knowing you, Spence. Don’t get any more scars.”

After that, he left. I walked back onto the floor in a daze. Charles had been my anchor on Y4. Knowing I could turn to him for help allowed me to feel safe. Now?

“Edie, your assignment’s changed. You’ve got Charles’s daytimer, too. Don’t worry, I’ll help.” Meaty’s voice was reasonable, even.

Don’t worry? I repeated inside my head. There was no way I could help it.





CHAPTER FORTY-THREE





“Just let me go to the bathroom first,” I told Meaty.

“All right. I’ll see you when you get back,” Meaty said, with an emphasis on the word back. We couldn’t all abandon ship tonight. If word that the Shadows were gone got out—traveled into one of our patient rooms, wafted up the elevator, went around the corner—we’d all be sitting ducks for whatever came our way. Charles’s sudden absence we could explain, but not Charles’s and mine together.

“I’ll be back,” I promised, and then rushed back off the floor. I ran into the locker room, pulled out my purse, and dialed Jake. He didn’t answer. I tried him again, and again. Who else could I call? I thought about dialing Sike—but even if she wasn’t an assassin, she wasn’t likely to care. I scrolled through the names on my phone’s contact list—the only one who would understand the gravity of the situation, and might be able to do anything about it, was Asher. I hated to ask him for a favor again, but I dialed him anyway. He answered on the second ring.

“Edie?”

“Asher—thanks for the other night,” I started off strong, then paused. How best to explain it? It was quiet on the far end of the line this time. I imagined him in his library, lying on his couch, reading a book.

“You’re welcome. What’s wrong now? You only call me when you want something.”

I was abashed. He was right. “I’m sorry, Asher.”