Spectacle (Menagerie #2)(92)
“Just one, other than...you. I can’t remember it. Gallagher, I’m the one who had my memory buried, and I think I did it so you wouldn’t find out about the other...event. Because I knew you’d get yourself killed trying to avenge me.”
“Dying in your service would be an honor.” He sounded almost wistful. “You’re not supposed to choose my well-being over your own.”
“None of that matters now. I had a test a few days ago, to determine the baby’s species. If it’s not human, she’s going to kill it.”
“Meaning...if it’s mine?”
“Yes.” I glanced at my feet on the pavement, barely visible in the dark. Then I made myself look him in the eye. “I know this is weird. I know neither of us asked for this. But...” I didn’t know how to put my conflicted tangle of emotions into words.
“But it’s happening.”
“Yeah. It is.”
“No.” He shook his head firmly. “I apologize. My words were woefully inadequate for what I intended to express. What I mean is that you are the most important thing in the world to me. What you do... I’ve pledged my life to making sure you can do it safely. I will be by your side as long as I have air to breathe and blood to spill, and that’s a stronger vow than any minister or court official has ever presided over. Whether or not the baby is mine, the baby is yours. I will protect him or her with the same vehemence with which I protect you. Which is why I’m getting you—both of you—out of here. Come on.”
He took my arm and tried to guide me deeper into the shadows, but I pulled him back.
I’d been thrown away by every friend I’d ever had, when fate had called me into service, and I’d been so bitter about what life had taken from me that I hadn’t thought to be thankful for what it had given me in return. Twice, I’d been taken in by people who shared no blood with me and owed me nothing. And twice those people—first my parents, then Gallagher—had set aside their own lives to make sure I was cared for.
“Thank you,” I said when he turned to see why I hadn’t moved. “My words are also ‘woefully inadequate,’ but I mean them sincerely.”
Gallagher nodded, accepting my gratitude with the same grave formality with which he approached important events in his life. “Now, we really must go. And we’re damn lucky it’s Sunday.”
“It is?” I’d lost track of the days in isolation, but the empty parking lots we passed as we moved from shadow to shadow supported his declaration. The Savage Spectacle was closed on Sundays, which meant it would be operating on minimum manning until nearly dawn.
We would get no better chance to make our move.
We stuck to the shadows, which Gallagher’s fear dearg heritage let him fade into almost seamlessly, and we were nearly to the main building when we saw the first handler on patrol. He carried a flashlight and an automatic rifle, as well as the usual stun gun and remote control, and while he peered into every shadow, he only walked on the well-lit sidewalk. He didn’t expect to find trouble, because he never had before.
“Stay here,” Gallagher whispered, and before I could argue, he disappeared into the shadows entirely.
A second later, he reached into the light. The guard grunted as he was pulled off his feet and into the dark. His grunt of surprise became a wet gurgle, followed by the gristly sound of ripping flesh. I flinched as something thumped to the ground. An empty, bloodstained shoe tumbled onto the sidewalk.
Then Gallagher was suddenly beside me, holding the dead guard’s remote control and his employee ID, which had a bar code across the bottom. “Will this be of any use?”
“With any luck, it’ll open the door to the control room.”
He huffed. “No door lock has ever kept me out.”
“But plenty of broken door locks have set off alarms. We’ll use the card.”
We headed for the main building, skirting pools of light along the sidewalk to tread in darkness. Gallagher faded into it so well that at times I couldn’t even tell if he was still next to me. The grass beneath my feet was dry and crisp, and sharp in places, with fall in full swing. The night was cold and clear. Every breath seemed to invigorate me, and the fact that I couldn’t be paralyzed or shocked into compliance gave me more confidence in our mission than I probably should have had.
At the back of the building, I used the dead guard’s ID to unlock the door, and we stepped inside, traversing the marble silently on bare feet. “Where’s the control room?” Gallagher whispered.
I led the way down one dark hallway and into another, avoiding cameras as much as possible, until we stood outside the locked control room door. “You can’t kill whoever’s in here,” I whispered, as I held up the stolen ID card. “We need him to disarm all the other collars.”
“You mean I can’t kill him until he’s disarmed the other collars.”
I nodded because that was as much of a compromise as I was going to get out of Gallagher. We’d taken over the menagerie with minimal blood spilled, but that wouldn’t be possible at the Spectacle, in part because we weren’t merely taking it over.
We were putting it out of business.
“I need you to get ahold of the guard before he can raise an alert. Ready?”
Gallagher nodded.