They soon arrived at Little Village, but before she could hop on the 55, the road had to be clear.
“The boys in blue are to your right, barging in like the fucking cavalry. Just don’t get cut off.”
No way she would let that happen. Despite the narrow street and traffic lights she was burning, it would be impossible to keep weaving at full throttle without crashing into something.
As expected, at the next intersection, blue and red flooded the area. Sloane swerved fast enough to avoid being hit by the first squad car, and as she knew would happen, two of the bad guys smashed into the arriving swarm of police vehicles.
The third tried to drive around, but there were too many to bypass, and she took the opportunity to push the Bugatti by exploiting all it could give her, distancing herself from the accident and the men after them.
A minute later, she merged onto the 55 and flew. The silence inside was deafening, but not for long as in a matter of minutes, she exited to get to the edge of Summit.
Careful to slow down and keep a low profile, she turned into a side street lined with shops and a strip mall, and turned again into the repair shop she was looking for. The garage door was already open and silently closed behind them. When the engine died, and the headlights turned off, they were in almost perfect darkness.
“Is this where you kill me?” The snarl of sarcasm was revealing from a man who’d seen death up close. Instead of answering, Sloane pulled out a key from her chest pocket and handed it to him. “What’s this?”
“The key to the apartment above the shop. It’s safe and stocked. You can stay there for as long as you want. I don’t suggest returning to your apartment for now, as they’re probably still looking for you.”
“So that’s it? That’s all the explanation I get?”
Angling her head slightly, she couldn’t really see him, but sensed his anger as if it had materialized between them.
“You made your decision not to help, so the less you know, the safer you’ll be. That doesn’t mean I’ll leave you out there like a sitting duck. You’ve done nothing wrong, and you need to be protected. Stay here until everything is sorted. Just be careful with your communications. Don’t tell anybody where you are or what happened. I suggest you take a sudden vacation, professor. Take the key and go rest.”
The door opened, but Professor Radcliffe remained in the car. “What are you planning to do?”
Sloane hesitated. “What needs to be done. I can’t do anything else.”
The professor stepped out but leaned back into the car. “It’s been a month since Phantom hit Chicago, and the victim count is rising. How close are you to shutting this operation down?”
It would have been so easy to lie, but she sensed he deserved the truth. “Not close enough.”
The professor sighed, and that perfectly reflected how she felt.
“That woman, the one who came to see me, you say she’s trustworthy?”
Hope tingled inside her belly. “Very. She wouldn’t hesitate to lay her life on the line for you.”
It was clear he was debating with himself, and she hoped that his brilliant mind would see their mission, even if she was a killer in his eyes.
“Her name? What’s her name?”
For a brief moment, Sloane almost broke character and slumped in her seat. All she wanted was for him to yield, just a little, to trust her enough to take a step to save lives. “Does it matter?”
“Her real name matters. And I haven’t said yes, yet. I want to talk to her first.”
Sloane started the engine. “She’ll be here first thing in the morning. In the meantime, ice your sore ribs, professor.”
“And ice yours, whoever you are.”
He slammed the door closed, and as she put the car into reverse, Sloane could feel her hands tingle at the prospect of closing in on White, maybe at the idea of choking him to death herself. And maybe at the idea that the professor would help her too.
Chapter 7
Luke barely caught a wink of sleep when he reached the apartment above the garage after leaving the Vigilante. His body was thrumming with adrenaline and with what he identified as a need to finish the battle. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time.
When he opened the door, he had his first surprise. He expected a smelly couch with a toilet in the corner, but instead, when he switched on the light, the place looked like one of those fancy apartments he’d visited but never had the money to rent on his professor’s salary. A kind of modern loft that belonged on a magazine cover.
The second surprise had been the level of security, both the place and the Internet connection. The alarm code had been written on a scrap of paper on the counter, along with the door and Wi-Fi password. He still had his tablet in his messenger bag, and despite the fight, it was working, so he could use it to notify the university of his sudden absence, as well as his grad students. The holidays were close, so everything could be pushed over to the next year without causing too much trouble.
Once everything was in order, Luke realized what he was doing. From the moment of the attack, he’d gone through the motions in survival mode, but now that stillness surrounded him, reality set in. The Vigilante, the man described in the press both as a monster and a hero, had saved his life and had requested his help.
The memory of what happened in the tunnel came to mind. He’d downed a target for someone he didn’t know. Did that mean he’d made his choice?
His method was questionable, but Luke had to admit he was making a difference. When he was a Marine, he’d had orders to follow and a clear target on their mission. In the line of fire, the only certainty was that the people trying to kill you were the bag guys.
How was war different from Chicago? He’d accused him of being a killer, but how many lives had he ended himself in the line of duty? And how many heroes had fallen by his side thinking they were doing the right thing?
Through the maze of his conscience, Luke had finally dozed off, but not long enough. It hadn’t been a restful sleep, not in this setting, not with danger looming close. It reminded him of his last tour in Iraq, and images formed in his mind.
It was a knock at the door that finished bringing him back to reality. Out of habit, he reached for the weapon he always kept on his side table, but he wasn’t home, far from it.
He was in this hideaway apartment provided by the Vigilante, and that someone behind the door was probably the mysterious blonde.
Just in case, he checked the peephole before unlocking it. There she was, her lush mouth quirked up, and if he wasn’t mistaken, those sky-blue eyes slid down his body. It felt like a flame licking his skin, and any other time, Luke would have taken advantage of it, but the current situation felt like being thrown into an ice bath.
“You.”
Her gaze zoomed up. “You always welcome guests half-naked?”
Amusement and appreciation twinkled in her eyes. This time, she’d decided against the suit and was sporting a pair of khaki pants with black boots, a canvas winter coat, and a cable-knit scarf in bright pink. Something was amiss, but he couldn’t put his finger on it yet.
“I only removed my shirt. You’re lucky as normally I sleep in the nude.”
With a laugh, she walked past him and discarded her winter gear on a chair. “I don’t blush easily, professor. And this isn’t a booty call, so don’t worry. I’m here because I received a call at an ungodly hour telling me to get my ass here.”