Spectacle (Menagerie #2)(96)

“What, because the system’s down?” He shrugged, holding a remote control with a dark screen. “They’ll get it restarted in a few minutes—we’ve trained for glitches like this—and until then, all the doors are automatically locked.”

I slid the stolen employee ID beneath the waistband of my pants as subtly as I could. “The system’s not just down. It’s destroyed. We smashed every computer in the control room.” I couldn’t resist a smile when his face paled. “Did you train for that?”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m offering you a chance to live. Every cryptid in this place, hybrid and beast alike, is unrestricted. If you don’t want to be gored by a manticore or eaten by an ogre, you should leave. Now.”

Bowman’s eyes narrowed. He took several steps toward me, his gun aimed at my chest. “Drop the baton!”

Reluctantly, I dropped my weapon a foot away, and it buzzed on the ground. He hadn’t told me to turn it off.

Bowman shifted to a one-handed grip on his pistol and pulled a set of metal cuffs from his waistband. “I’m going to give you these, and you’re going to cuff yourself.” Because he wouldn’t touch me without wearing gloves.

Unfortunately, while I was sure he deserved the worst the furiae had to give, she still slept peacefully. I hadn’t actually seen Bowman hurt anyone but me.

I would have to take him down on my own.

He marched slowly closer, holding the cuffs out at arm’s length. When he was close enough, I reached out as if I’d take them. Instead, I shoved his gun hand upward.

The pistol went off, and bits of Styrofoam tile drifted down from the ceiling. I dropped into a squat and grabbed the baton by the rubber grip and swung it at him.

The side of the baton hit his leg as he tried to aim. His muscles spasmed, and the gun went off again.

The bullet whizzed past my head. My ears rang, then the world went silent. I spun to find the bullet lodged in the wall behind me.

Still spasming, Bowman fell to his knees and lost contact with the baton. He blinked, then frowned, as his eyes began to regain focus. So I hit him with the baton again and electrocuted him until he passed out.

Stunned and with my head still ringing, I stood and pulled the ID card from my waistband, then held it under the scanner. The door unlocked with the soft scrape of metal, and I pulled it open to find a crowd of women staring at me.

“Delilah?” Mirela’s lips moved, and I recognized my name on them, but I heard nothing. “What—”

“I can’t hear you, so just listen, okay?”

An entire room full of women nodded, eyes wide and terrified.

“It’s time to go. Just a sec.” I ducked into the hall again and grabbed one of the unactivated batons. “Gallagher and I destroyed the collar system, which means the door sensors and remote controls don’t function. So here’s how this is going to work. There are a dozen more of these on the floor in the hall.” I held up the weapon. “This is an electrified baton. If you don’t have claws or fangs or some kind of natural defensive ability, grab one. Turn it on, but only touch this rubber handle, because the rest of it will shock you. If someone tries to grab you, hit him or her with it.”

“What’s the best way off the compound?” Lenore said, and I actually heard most of her question, though it seemed to be coming at me from the other end of a long tunnel.

“Through the woods,” Magnolia said.

“No.” Simra shook her head. “That’s too slow. We need cars.”

“She’s right.” I turned to Lenore and Zyanya. “Take them to the parking lot and find the largest vehicles. Do you remember what Abraxas showed us? How to hot-wire a car?”

Several of the former menagerie captives nodded. Most of them had been taught to drive out of necessity, because Metzger’s was a traveling menagerie.

“Good. Pile into the vehicles and leave. Just go.”

“Where?” Lala asked, as I handed her my baton.

“I don’t know. I shouldn’t know, that way if they catch me, I can’t tell them. Later, when and if it’s safe, we’ll try to find each other. You and Mirela will be our best hope of that.” Through their premonitions. Though the shifters might be able to track anyone who fled on foot. “But tonight the goal is to get out of the Spectacle. Okay?”

The crowd nodded again, though several of the women looked more scared than eager.

“Okay. Go.”

“What about you?” Zyanya asked as the women pushed past me into the hall, wide-eyed gazes searching for danger in every direction.

“I have to open the rest of the doors, but then I’ll be right behind you.”

She pushed a poof of dark curls back from her face. “I’ll help.”

“No.” I met her gaze. “Help them.” I nodded at the rest of the women. “You know how to drive and you can pass for human. They need you. I’ll be fine.”

The shifter nodded reluctantly. Then she stepped into the hall and began herding the women toward the rear exit.

I freed the men and gave them the same instructions, though I had no more batons to hand out. For safety in numbers, I ran with them in the direction of the employee lot, then veered toward the “stable,” where Vandekamp kept prey for the hunt. But before I could open the door, it opened on its own, and nearly two dozen shifters and nonshifting hybrids—including three centaurs and a satyr—nearly trampled me.