Stolen (Otherworld #2)(73)

"Damn," Paige muttered. "Can I-uh-try that again?"
Katzen roared with laughter. I sprang to my feet and leaped at him. Clay and Adam lunged at the same time, and all three of us hit Katzen together. His hands flew up to cast a spell. I snatched his wrists, clasping them so tight the bones snapped. Katzen gasped. Clay grabbed his head and twisted. The sorcerer's body convulsed, striking Adam in his wounded side and knocking him backward. Then Katzen went limp. Clay checked his pulse, waited for his heart to stop, then dropped him.
"He's dead."
The pronouncement came not from Clay, but from across the hall. From Savannah. We all turned to see her still holding Leah in the spell, her back to us. She hadn't turned. Hadn't seen the fight, unable to tear her eyes from Leah without breaking the spell.
"He's dead," she said again, and I realized she was talking to Leah. "It's over."
Leah's face went white. Outrage and grief flooded her eyes. A rumbling filled the room. A loud crack. Then another. A chunk of plaster flew from the wall behind me. The lightbulbs exploded. I wheeled toward Savannah as a chair shot from Katzen's cell. It struck Savannah in the back and she crumpled. I rushed at her, but not fast enough. She toppled backward onto the floor. Paige and I grabbed her at the same time. Glass swirled around us, mingling with a whirlwind of dust from falling plaster. Clay shouted. Then Adam. Paige and I bent over Savannah, protecting her from the hailstorm of debris. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped. And Leah was gone.
***
Clay and I followed Leah's trail outside, but we didn't get far before a familiar voice hailed us. Jeremy stepped from the woods, Cassandra and Kenneth in tow.
"What happened?" Jeremy asked, taking in our dust-covered clothes and glass-nicked skin.
Reaching out, he wiped a dribble of blood from my cheek. I leaned back against him, closing my eyes to indulge in a brief moment of peace.
"You're okay?" he murmured.
"Alive," I said. "Everyone is."
I gave Jeremy a full report, concluding with Leah's escape. Although I wanted to go after her immediately, Jeremy nixed that plan. He was more concerned with stopping Tyrone Winsloe and finding any remaining staff members. If Leah was on the run, she posed no immediate danger. It was a long walk to the nearest phone. We could stop her later. Right now we needed to make sure no humans left the compound and took our secrets with them.
"Clay and I will go look for Winsloe," I said.
"I'll come with you," Cassandra said. "We found only one guard, and Jeremy took care of him. Tyrone Winsloe may be my last chance for some actual combat."
"Elena and I can handle this," Clay said. "If you want something to do, Cassandra, go skulk around the second floor, see if you can find any warm food."
Cassandra only smiled. "No, thank you, Clayton. I'll wait for Winsloe. He should be quite warm when you finish with him."
"Oh, that reminds me," I said. "There's still one captive left. He might be a vampire, but we're not sure. Would you mind taking a look, Cassandra? If he is a vampire, you can tell me whether it's safe to release him. You'd know, right?"She nodded. "There aren't many vampires in North America. If he's one of us, I should recognize him."
After we all returned to the cell block, I led Cassandra down the hall toward the remaining captive. As we walked, I tried to think up a way to keep Cassandra from accompanying Clay and me on our search for Winsloe. I didn't want her there. Winsloe was mine. I owed him for everything he'd done, everything he'd threatened to do. His death would be a private matter, something I would share only with Clay.
We arrived at the cell before I came up with a plan. Cassandra took one look at the man inside and blinked. Hard.
"You know him?" I asked.
She paused, seeming to debate whether to lie. "He's a vampire."
I interpreted that to mean she did know him. "Is he dangerous?"
"Not really. Not very useful either. I wouldn't be in any rush to release him. He'll only get in the way. We can come back later."
She turned to go. I grabbed her arm. Her skin was cool to the touch, like someone who'd spent the day in an air-conditioned office.
"What if something happens and we can't release him later?" I said. "Or is that a chance you're willing to take, like when I was being held captive?"
The words were out of my mouth before I realized it. Cassandra turned and studied my face.
"So Clayton told you," she said. "I'd have thought he'd want to spare your feelings. It wasn't like that, Elena. You're a werewolf. A warrior. A bright, resourceful warrior. You didn't need my help to escape. There was nothing I could have done."
"And the others? You counseled them not to help me. To let me rot here."
Cassandra sighed. "It wasn't like that, Elena."
"And the thing with Clay? Making a pass at him before my side of the bed was cold?"
"I wouldn't call it a 'pass.' Clayton is a very intriguing man. Perhaps I was a little too intrigued, but you can hardly blame me for that. Now you're back. He's your man. I respect that. You needn't worry about me."
I smiled, baring my teeth. "Trust me, Cassandra, I wasn't worried." I glanced at the man in the cell. "But I am concerned for this poor guy. I'm letting him out."
Cassandra blanched, then quickly recovered her composure. "Suit yourself."
She turned and headed down the hall, walking faster than I'd ever seen her move. Fleeing the scene? Hmmm.
I opened the cell door. The man turned and gave me a wary onceover.
"Yes?" he said, polite but cool.
"Hi, I'm Elena." I extended my hand. "Your rescuer for today."
"Oh?" Still cool. Brows arching. No effort to shake my hand. 
"You want out?" I asked.
He smiled, a touch of warmth defrosting the chill. "Actually, I was getting quite comfortable here, but if you insist, I suppose I could tear myself away."
"We have an old friend of yours with us. She's eager to see you."
"Friend?"
"Cassandra… I'm not sure of the last name. Auburn hair. Green eyes. Vampire."
"Cassandra?" His eyes narrowed. "Where?"
"Right down that hall."
I leaned out the door. The man brushed past me and marched into the hall.
"Cassandra!" he yelled.
Halfway down the hall, Cassandra turned. Slowly.
"Aaron!" she called. Her lips stretched in a wide smile as she headed back to us. "My God, is that really you? How long has it been? All these years and you know, you haven't changed a bit."
"Very funny," Aaron said. "Now, Cass-"
She gathered his hands in hers and pecked his cheek. "I can't believe this. When did I last see you? Nineteen seventeen, wasn't it? Philadelphia?"
"Nineteen thirty-one, Romania," Aaron growled, disengaging himself from Cassandra's embrace. "Fifth stop on our Grand Tour. We could have gone to Prague, Warsaw, Kiev, but no, you had to stop in some Romanian backwater so you could amuse yourself playing Dracula for the peasants. And I'm sure it would have been very amusing if you'd been the one locked in a church cellar for three days and almost drowned in a vat of holy water."
"It was a mistake," Cassandra murmured.
"Mistake? You left me there! "
"She abandoned you?" I said. "Fancy that."
"Oh, no," Aaron said, his glare boring through Cassandra. "She didn't just abandon me. She gave me to them. Her little prank got out of hand, and when the mob came, she saved herself by handing me over."
"It wasn't like that," Cassandra said.
"I'm sure it wasn't," I said. "Well, I guess you two have a lot of catching up to do. Go ahead, Cassandra. Clay and I can handle Winsloe on our own."
As I walked away, Cassandra tried to follow, but Aaron grabbed her arm. They were still getting reacquainted as Clay and I left the cell block to find Winsloe.
RETALIATION

The dog was in the kennel.
We smelled Winsloe as soon as we got within twenty feet of the outbuilding. We scouted the perimeter as I whispered my plan to Clay. Before I finished, he reached for my arm, stopping me.
"You sure about this, darling?" he asked.
"Oh, I'm sure. Aren't you?"
Clay pulled me closer and tipped my face up to his. "I'm sure I want to do it, and I'm damned sure the bastard deserves it. It's certainly poetic justice. But is it really what you want?"
"It's what I want."
"All right, then. If there's any trouble, though, I'm taking him down."
"No, I will."
Clay hesitated. "Okay, darling. If we have a choice, he's yours. But I won't hold back if you're in danger."
"Agreed."
We headed for the kennel.
***
Winsloe sat in the rear of the middle dog run. His back was to the wall, knees up, pistol trained on the door. Once we'd determined his position by peering through the dusty windows, we chose a course of action. Obviously, barreling through the door was out of the question. We weren't bulletproof. Since the entrance was to Winsloe's left, I selected the window closest to his right. Clay hoisted me, and I carefully unhooked the latches, pulled the pane free, and handed it down to Clay. The opening was roughly two feet square, too small for Clay, so I had to go it alone. He boosted me higher, and I wriggled through feet first, straining to hear Winsloe below, ready to yank myself out if he so much as moved. He didn't. Once my lower torso cleared the window, I grabbed the upper sill with both hands, swung sideways, and pounced, landing on Winsloe's head and shoulders. He screamed. I grabbed his gun and flung it over the wire fence into the adjoining cage."Nice scream, Tyrone," I said as I brushed straw from my jeans. "Very macho."