Without a better plan, we kept moving.
* * *
After a few minutes we reached the well-lit area where the tunnel opened into an access area. From there, you could get to other parts of the city’s underground tunnels or head upstairs to the street. Or, if you really wanted, you could climb the set of concrete stairs that led up to a small platform and a metal door—the front door to the sanctuary.
We crowded into the threshold of the tunnel and peered out. There was no sign of the men, who’d either gone back into the building or disappeared into a secondary tunnel. But that didn’t slow my heartbeat any. Inside the sanctuary was a giant banner that bore a Reaper quatrefoil—and beneath it was the table where Scout had been used by Reapers for her own energy.
I reached out and squeezed her hand. It was cold and clammy, and when I glanced over at her, she looked a little pale.
“You okay?”
“Just . . . remembering,” she said, but swallowed hard. “No problem.”
“Should we go in?” Michael whispered.
For a moment, no one answered.
“I’ve got one more thing to try.”
We all looked at Detroit. Nervously, she opened her black satchel and pulled out a black plastic beetle a few inches long. She held it in the palm of her hand.
“What is it?” I asked.
“It’s like an X-ray camera,” she said. “It will filter out the concrete and pipes and stuff and we can get a visual on the room. Sound, too. It’s a bug,” she said with a nervous laugh. “Get it?”
“What’s the catch?” Jason asked.
She looked up at him. “We have to get it inside. Just sticking it on the door isn’t enough. It can see through only so much concrete, so it needs to be on the wall of the room you want to look into.”
Jason winced, then looked up at her. “I hate to ask—”
“It will work,” she interrupted. “I promise it will work.”
There was another moment of silence as we debated our options. Going inside the sanctuary was a huge risk, and if Detroit’s beetle thingy didn’t work, it was a huge risk with no benefit. On the other hand, if the Reapers weren’t responsible for the magical blackout, who was? Who else had the power to do it? We had to find that out.
“It will work,” Detroit repeated, and I held out my hand. Everyone looked at me.
“It will work,” I said. “I know it will. And I’ll get it inside. You just need to tell me how to do it.”
Her eyes widened. “You believe me?”
“Your word is good enough for me,” I said. After all, if I could trust Sebastian, the least I could do was trust an Adept. That was a no-brainer.
Detroit nodded and handed over the beetle. It was heavier than I thought. It was nice and solid, and that was comforting somehow.
But Jason wasn’t thrilled with my plan. “It’s too dangerous,” he said. “You could get hurt.”
I shook my head. My mind was already made up. “I’m the only one who can go. Detroit’s too valuable to risk—she’s the only one who can actually do something useful right now. Scout’s a spellbinder—she can’t be risked—and Michael’s a pacifist.”
That was only half-true. He probably wasn’t really a pacifist, but he wasn’t a fighter, either.
“And me?” Jason asked.
“You need to stay out here and keep them safe. And if I get pinched, you need to come rescue me.”
I thought that sounded cute, but he didn’t really look swayed. Stubborn werewolf boyfriends.
But since he wasn’t going to suddenly agree this was a good idea, I looked at Detroit. “There’s a main meeting room inside the sanctuary. It’s just at the end of the hall. I’ll pop in, stick the bug on the wall, and be right back out before you know it.”
“She’s right,” Scout said. “She’s the best one for the job.”
It took a minute, but Jason finally nodded. “Fine. But if you get hurt, I’m going to be really irritated with you.”
“I’ll do my best.”
I hoped it would be good enough.
9
It should be a simple operation: climb the steps, open the door, walk down a hallway, and stick the beetle on the wall outside the sanctuary’s main room. I had to press a button on its back to turn it on, and as soon as a light came on that confirmed it was connected to Detroit’s video screen, I was done and could run out again.
It should be simple, but with nerves pumping, it sounded like a lot of steps to me.
We were still stuffed into the opening of the tunnel, while Detroit walked through the steps one more time. But I hardly heard her. My eyes were on Jason, who stared back at me just as hard.
“Could this be a trap?” I asked, my hands shaking with nerves and adrenaline. I squeezed my fingers around the bug to keep from dropping it.
“It’s not a trap,” Detroit said. “It’s an Enclave Two–style mission. You can do this.”
“You can do it,” Scout agreed, putting an arm around my shoulder. “Pop in, pop on, pop out. Get it done right and I’ll let you borrow my messenger bag, skull and all.”
I laughed nervously. “I don’t even like your messenger bag. It creeps me out.”
“Even better.” She slapped me on the butt like I was a quarterback who had to save the game at the last minute. Which I kind of was.
“All right,” Detroit said. “The coast isn’t going to get any clearer. Go.”
I took a step outside the tunnel, bathed in light and totally obvious, and it took me a moment to get my feet moving again.
But then I hauled. I ran to the steps and took them two at a time, then put an ear to the metal door. It was thick, and I couldn’t hear anything through it, so I couldn’t be sure there wasn’t a Reaper on the other side. But no sound was better than the sound of chatty Reapers, so I turned the knob.
Nothing happened. It was locked.
“Crap,” I muttered, and jiggled the handle again.
Nothing at all.
I glanced back at the Adepts, who all shrugged, their faces blank. If the door was locked and we didn’t have a key, this mission was dead on arrival.
One way or the other, I needed to make a decision.
I looked back at the door. It was metal and rusty, and pretty old looking. Maybe it wasn’t locked. . . . Maybe it was just stuck.
I stuffed the beetle into my pocket, put both hands on the doorknob, blew out a breath, and then turned it with every ounce of energy I had. It finally popped open.