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The phone started ringing again in the kitchen.

“Oh, my God,” she gasped, gripped in a mounting terror.

She had to get out of there.

Hotel, she thought. Somewhere remote. Somewhere she could hide for a while, decide what to do.

Gabrielle grabbed her purse and the keys to the BMW, practically running for her front door. She threw the locks free and twisted the knob. As the door swung open, she found herself staring at a familiar face that had once been friendly.

Now she was certain it belonged to a Minion.

“Going somewhere, Gabby?” Kendra brought her cell phone away from her ear and closed it. The ringing in the apartment ceased. Kendra smiled thinly, her head cocked at an odd angle. “You’re awfully hard to catch lately.”

Gabrielle winced at the lost, vacant look in those unblinking eyes. “Let me past you, Kendra. Please.”

The brunette laughed, a loud, open-mouthed chortle that faded into an airless hiss. “Sorry, sweetie. No can do.”

“You’re with them, aren’t you?” Gabrielle said, sick with the understanding. “You’re with the Rogues. My God, Kendra, what have they done to you?”

“Hush,” she said, her finger to her lip as she shook her head. “No more talking. We have to go now.”

When the Minion reached for her, Gabrielle pulled away. She thought of the dagger in her purse, and wondered if she could retrieve the blade without Kendra’s notice. If she could, would she be able to use it on her friend?

“Don’t touch me,” she said, inching her fingers under the leather flap of her bag. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Kendra bared her teeth, a terrible parody of a smile. “Oh, I think you should, Gabby. After all, Jamie’s life depends on it.”

Cold dread pierced her heart. “What?”

Kendra nodded her head toward the waiting sedan. A tinted window eased down, and there was Jamie, sitting in the backseat beside an enormous thug.

“Gabrielle?” Jamie called out, a panicked look in his eyes.

“Oh, no. Not Jamie. Kendra, please don’t let anyone hurt him.”

“That’ll be entirely up to you,” Kendra said politely. She grabbed Gabrielle’s purse out of her hands. “You won’t be needing anything in here.”

She motioned for Gabrielle to walk ahead of her toward the idling car. “Shall we?”

Lucan set two bars of C4 under the huge water heaters in the asylum’s boiler room. Crouched down behind the utility equipment, he flipped up the transmitter antennas, then spoke into his mic to report his progress.

“Boiler room is a check,” he told Niko on the other end. “I’ve got three more units to set and then I’m out—”

He froze, hearing the scuff of footsteps outside the closed door.

“Lucan?”

“Shit. Company coming,” he murmured quietly as he rose from his position and crept near the door to prepare to strike.

He wrapped his gloved hand around the hilt of a nasty serrated blade sheathed across his chest. He had a gun on him, too, but they’d all agreed no firearms on this mission. No need to alert the Rogues of their presence, and with Niko throwing the gas main outside, pumping fumes into the building, the spark of a bullet firing was liable to set the whole works off prematurely.

The latch on the boiler room door began to twist.

Lucan smelled the stench of a Rogue, and the unmistakable coppery scent of human blood. Muffled animal grunts mingled with wet smacking and the faint whine of a victim being bled dry. The door opened, letting in a huge gust of putrid air as the Rogue started to drag its dying plaything into the dark alcove.

Lucan waited to the side of the door until the Rogue’s big head came into full view. The suckhead was too involved in its prey to notice the threat. Lucan brought his hand up, burying the blade in the Rogue’s rib cage. It roared, huge jaws gaping, yellow eyes bulging as the titanium sped through its blood system.

The human fell to the floor in a slump, boneless, spasming in the throes of death while the Rogue who’d been feeding off of him began to sizzle and shake, blisters rising like it had been doused with acid.

No sooner did the Rogue collapse into swift