I lean my head back until it rests against the chair, my eyes open and vacant.

Emotional.

Not as bad a word as hope, but definitely not good. It’s deadly. More deadly than Risen, zombie, Colonist, or gang. I’ve run from it for years—hidden in the dark, scurrying like an animal—and now here it is, the thing that will get me killed: I’ve gotten emotional and it’s made me stupid.

“Fine,” I spit out. “I’ll be quiet.”

“Good. Keep your mouth shut and your ears open. Be patient. Be smart. Wait for the right moment.”

I lower my eyes to his face, ready to ask him what he’s talking about, when I feel the cold steel of a blade sliding against my wrist. He’s finished tying my hands down, but he’s done it loosely. There’s just enough play for me to lift them slightly. Just enough room between my skin and the wood for the thin blade of his knife to hide.

Chapter Twelve

Ryan goes to stand with the other men in the room, siding with the two guys from Vin’s Guard. I think he’s a little relieved. I’m still here, where he doesn’t want me to be, but I’m contained. Me being tied to a chair doesn’t exactly bother him because he has no intention of Marlow leaving with me. He has no intention of Marlow leaving at all.

That worries me.

In my gut I know Ryan shouldn’t do this. For one, Vin wants it. He pushed him toward it, practically putting the idea in his head. Vin’s joy is a huge red flag for me. Secondly, it’s an emotional decision, something I can say from experience is a bad idea. I’m regretting a lot right now as my butt goes numb in this uncomfortable chair and my fingers cramp from slowly working Andy’s knife back and forth over the ropes holding me down. I don’t know if he meant for me to cut myself loose with it or hold onto it to defend myself when things get ugly, but I’m not interested in being caged so I’m putting it to use immediately. SOB could have sharpened it for me, though.

The third most obvious reason to me why Ryan shouldn’t kill Marlow is that Ryan isn’t a killer. It’s not in him. Zombies are one thing; a man is another. Ryan’s a diplomat, not a mercenary. He’s done it before and I know it’s still with him. I don’t want more blood on his hands that he’ll never be able to wash off.

“That’s it.”

Vin’s voice drifts down from the rafters where he and Marlow are walking around the upper level. They make their way slowly down the large open staircase toward the main floor where we all wait patiently. Or anxiously. Or murderously.

“It’s not as big as the aquarium,” Marlow says critically. “But the grounds are bigger. There’s more space for gardening. Farming. Could be worth it. It could definitely be worth it.”

“It being me,” I shout before remembering I’m supposed to shut up.

My hand on the knife freezes as all eyes shift to me.

Marlow chuckles as he and Vin clear the stairs and cross the room. “Don’t flatter yourself. You’ll definitely grease the wheels, but you won’t cover the entire cost. We’ll have to check the other inventory we get from this place. Where are they, by the way?”

“Where are who?” Vin asks innocently.

“The other people. The hundreds of people you claimed you have hidden away here. Did we not see the entire property? Where are they?”

“Basement.”

“We saw the basement.”

“Sub-basement.”

“Vincent.”

“They’re around, don’t worry, Marlow,” Vin sings easily. He slowly paces around the room, subtly putting distance between himself and Marlow. “I said they were being kept safe. I didn’t say they were being kept safe here.”

“Don’t double speak with me,” Marlow warns.

“It was a misunderstanding.”

Marlow watches Vin closely, his eyes narrowing to sharp slits. “Maybe we need to be more clear with each other. Bring me the girl!”

Two of Marlow’s men take hold of my chair and drag me backwards to the center of the room. Vin’s eyes follow me with interest, but he never stops moving. Never stops circling Marlow so very slowly.

I’m parked beside Marlow, the chair slammed forward so hard I worry for a second it will tip over and my face will meet the beaten hardwood floors. I also worry I’ll lose hold of my knife. I grip it so hard it turns slightly, the blade digging into my skin.

“Take it easy, Marlow,” Vin warns casually. “Westbrook won’t want her with a broken face.”

“What good is she as payment for an empty building?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I want the people, Vincent. This place is useless to me without the people to run it.”

“Bodies,” Vin says thoughtfully, still turning. Still pacing. He drags every eye in the room with him, Marlow’s men tensing as he steps behind them, between them, swoops in slowly near Marlow before gliding away again. “Hands, legs, feet, arms, backs to break. This world is worthless without people, isn’t it? No one to work the fields. No one to cook and clean. No one to create the law, to break the law, enforce the law. No one for the zombies to eat. No one to watch over you while you sleep. No one to warm your bed.”

“Get to it,” Marlow snaps.

Vin suddenly stops moving and I’m almost dizzy because of it. It feels like the entire room jolts. He’s standing to Marlow’s left, the same side I’m sitting on. Ryan, I notice, is standing to Marlow’s right, just outside his peripheral.

“I want the building,” Vin tells him firmly, no longer whimsical. “I want the building and half the people in it. Men or women, I don’t care.”

“And what will you do with it?”

“I’ll run it, same way you run The Hive. We’ll do business, same as you do business with the Colonies, but I don’t like the terms. Both those and the building will be entirely mine.”

“Why would I ever allow that?”

“Because if you don’t, you’ll never see a single one of the people from this place. You can have half or nothing. Run the numbers on that and get back to me.”

“You’re an idiot. What’s happened to you?”

Vin smirks at him. “Same thing that happens to every man who tastes power. I’ve grown hungry.”

“You’ve gotten greedy.”

“I’ve become wise,” Vin counters in an eerie whisper. “I know you can’t man this place. You wouldn’t know how even if you did have the bodies to fill it—which you don’t, by the way. Do you know how I know that? It’s because I know everything about you.”

Marlow examines Vin for a long time, neither of them moving. “So this is what it’s come to? After all these years, after all I’ve done for you, you’re going to turn on me? You’re no better than your dad was.”

“Oh I’m much better than my dad was, because I have his mistakes to learn from. I won’t live under your thumb forever and I definitely won’t let you put me in the bottom of the Sound.”

“You’re on the same course. He tried to shake me on, just like you’re doing now.”

Vin’s responding grin is cold. “He wasn’t holding all the cards.”

Marlow grabs a fistful of my hair, yanking my head to the side violently. I bite my lip to keep from crying out in pain.

“Not all the cards,” he sneers.

“Take her,” Vin replies flippantly, waving his hand like he’s brushing off the loss of a sock. “I’d hate for you to have made the trip for nothing.”

Marlow shakes his head, his face contorted in anger. “I could take everything from you right now.”

“And lose one hundred head. This building too. What would be the point of paying Westbrook for it if you can’t manage it? Give the building to me, half the people will be yours, we’ll work as partners, and you’ll never have to do business with the Colonies again.”

“I have a better idea,” Marlow snarls. “You and your pathetic Guard will die here and now, but not until you watch me drain every last cent out of this girl. Then I’ll burn this building with your bodies inside it and leave its charred remains as a reminder to anyone who ever thinks they can take what’s mine!”