“We’ll get to Ethan using Dee and Daemon. Get to him before the military or the Arum roll in,” Archer said, amethyst eyes sharp. “Before he can run.”
I got that part, but this . . . this was a risky and unreliable plan—one held together by duct tape, a lick, and a whole lot of wishing for good luck. The only good part about it was the fact that we were going home and I’d get to see my mom. If she was even there.
“But what about Nancy?” Daemon asked.
Dee glanced around the room. “What about her?”
“She ran off.” I filled in his sister. “No one knows where she’s at, but I doubt she’d head to where all the action is going down. That doesn’t make any sense, so I think that’s the last place she’d go.”
Daemon tugged on the band of my jeans but didn’t respond.
“She’s right. They’re looking for her now, but the likelihood of her heading to Petersburg is slim. I’m going to get in touch with Luc, let him know what’s up and that the Luxen behind this are holed up in Petersburg, along with Ethan,” Archer continued. “And then we’ll get in touch with Lotho, let him know where we need them first.”
That made sense. If the intel Dee had was correct, we needed to get them and the colony taken out, but we still had however many Origin to deal with afterward.
I winced.
Taken out. Deal with. I was starting to sound like a mobster.
Or Luc.
“Well then,” I said finally. “It’s a plan.”
Daemon patted my behind.
“You guys are going to need some stuff,” Hunter said, and then he glanced down at Serena’s blond head. “This is the end of the road for us.”
I nodded. We could use their help, all the help we could get, actually, but rolling into town with two Arum would probably give away the card up our sleeve.
“Don’t get us wrong,” Serena said, her eyes searching out ours. “We want to do more, but—”
“But like I said before, I have a lot of enemies in the government. While Daedalus might be defunct, I don’t trust anyone associated with it.” Hunter’s arm around Serena tightened. “And I’m not putting her in their crosshairs again.”
“Totally understandable,” Daemon announced, surprising me, since he didn’t follow it up with a smartass response.
Lore straightened and walked over to the closet that still had a door on it. When he opened it, I got a peek of a mini-arsenal. Glocks were attached to hooks on the interior walls. Rifles were propped against the wall from tallest to shortest. There were other guns I didn’t recognize secured to the wall, guns that looked like Glocks . . . but weren’t.
“Wow,” I murmured.
“Probably should’ve told you guys this was here,” he said, reaching inside. “I’ve collected quite a stash over the years.” He pulled out a gun, handing it over to Archer. “The thing that everyone seems to forget is that Luxen, and even we, are susceptible to certain wounds.”
“Bullet to the head or to the heart is catastrophic no matter the species.” Hunter grinned, and it was kind of creepy. “Problem is, both of our kinds are a bit fast, so hitting them in the head or heart is kind of hard.”“Not now.” Lore was also grinning in the same creepy way.
“Holy crap,” murmured Archer as he handled the odd-looking gun. “How did you get one of these?”
Lore smirked. “I have my ways.”
Archer shook his head. “Hell, these things were never approved for widespread use. Daedalus had them, but I never thought I’d see one on the outside.”
Daemon’s hand slipped off me. “What’s so special about the gun?”
“It’s specially designed for Luxen. It’s not a PEP weapon, not really.” Archer was also now smiling in the über-creepy way. “The gun is rigged to handle bullets juiced with a charge of the same matter behind the PEP. It’s not a DRT weapon.”
“DRT?” asked Dee.
“Dead Right There,” he explained. “But you shoot Luxen, hybrids, or Origins anywhere with one of these, they are going down. It’s mostly fatal, especially if the bullet doesn’t exit the body or they can’t get it out quickly. It kills more slowly, which was why the guns were never approved.”
“Because that would be like torturing someone.” I felt sick.
“Yeah, but you don’t have to really have good aim with this. Still need to be fast, but instead of sucking up energy and calling the Source, this will come in handy.” Archer looked like a kid who’d just been handed a birthday cake in his favorite flavor. “Really handy.”
“Each of you gets one,” Lore said. “So never say I didn’t give you anything. And I do expect a Christmas card this year.”
Smiling slightly, I took my gun—my more-dangerous-than-normal gun—and tried to get used to the weight and feel of the cool plastic and metal.
I was holding a gun in my hand. Again.
And I really did feel like a mobster.
We were back out on the porch, positions slightly changed. Daemon was sitting on the top step and his legs were spread wide. I was between them, turned slightly so I could see his face in the waning sunlight.
At first, we really didn’t say much. He was playing with my hair, twisting the length around his fingers and brushing the ends against my cheek. I had no idea what it was with Daemon and using things—my hair, pens, pencils, whatever—to touch me, but I didn’t mind. There was something relaxing about it now, when it used to be ridiculously annoying. I was leaning back against his left leg, letting him do whatever he was doing. We’d have to leave soon so that we’d arrive sometime in the morning.