Chapter 8 No.8

No.8

Glass showered into the room like deadly confetti.

Before Annelise could scream, a black canister rolled across the carpet, stopping right in the center of the room.

BANG.

A flash of blinding white light and a concussive boom rocked the small space.

Annelise fell back, her ears ringing, her vision washed out in white.

"Mom!"

"Get down!"

The door splintered inward as a battering ram hit it. Men in tactical gear swarmed into the room, their movements precise and terrifying.

"Secure the targets!" a voice shouted.

Annelise scrambled toward the bed, blindly reaching for the kids. "No! Leave them alone!"

She felt rough hands grab her arms, hauling her back. She kicked and screamed, fighting with the desperation of a cornered animal.

"Clear!"

"Target One secured."

"Target Two secured."

Blace launched himself at a guard, biting the man's arm. The guard grunted and used a taser. The crackle of electricity was followed by Blace's small body going limp.

"Blace!" Annelise screamed, her throat tearing.

"Don't hurt him! He's just a boy!"

Casimiro stepped into the room, stepping over the broken glass. He looked calm, apologetic even.

"He's stunned, ma'am. He'll be fine."

"You monsters!" Annelise spat at him.

"Take the children to the secure transport," Casimiro ordered. "Separate vehicle."

"No! No, please!" Annelise begged, thrashing against her captors. "Don't separate us! Please, I'll do anything! Just don't take them!"

She watched helplessly as a guard carried a limp Blace out. Another carried a crying Clemie. Algernon walked on his own, his hands zip-tied, looking back at Annelise with a terrifyingly blank expression.

Just before he was pushed out the door, Algernon kicked his tablet. It slid under the bed, deep into the shadows.

"Ma'am," Casimiro said. "Mr. Sanders wants to see you."

"I will kill him," Annelise sobbed. "I will kill him."

"Bring her," Casimiro said.

They pulled a black hood over her head. The world went dark again. Just like the nightmare.

Annelise was dragged down the stairs, thrown into the back of an SUV. She sat in the dark, listening to the tires hum on the asphalt, praying to a God she hadn't believed in for years.

The ride took twenty minutes. Then the car stopped. She was hauled out, led through echoing concrete corridors, into an elevator that shot upward so fast her ears popped.

Finally, the hood was yanked off.

She blinked, blinded by the harsh lights of an interrogation room. Or maybe it was an office. It was sleek, modern, cold.

And he was there.

Archibald sat in a leather chair, watching her. He had shed his jacket. His white shirt was unbuttoned at the top, his sleeves rolled up.

To anyone else, he looked handsome. To Annelise, he looked exactly like the silhouette from the hotel. The same broad shoulders, the same imposing height. Her mind reeled. This couldn't be her husband, the crippled man hidden from the world. This had to be his brother, his bodyguard, the monster he kept on a leash.

"Hello, wife," Archibald said.

Annelise stood up, her legs shaking but holding her weight. "Where are my children?"

"They are safe," Archibald said calmly. "They are being examined by my medical team."

"Examined?" Annelise's stomach lurched. "If you touch them..."

"I need to know what they are," Archibald said, standing up. He walked around the desk, leaning against it. "That boy... the one who disabled my car. That's not normal, Annelise. Normal five-year-olds don't know how to build corrosive chemical devices."

"They are gifted," Annelise spat. "Something you wouldn't understand."

"And the eyes?" Archibald asked softly. He took a step closer. "Why does he have my eyes?"

Annelise's heart stopped. He suspected.

"He doesn't," she lied, her voice trembling. "They are blue. Lots of people have blue eyes."

"Not that blue," Archibald said. He was close now. Too close.

Annelise could smell him. That scent of rain and expensive musk. It hit her amygdala like a hammer.

Flashback. The hotel room. The heavy weight. The heat.

She gasped, stumbling back, clutching her chest. "Get away from me."

Archibald paused, frowning. He saw the genuine panic in her face. The way her pupils blew wide, the way sweat beaded on her upper lip. It wasn't the fear of a caught liar. It was the terror of a cornered animal.

"Why are you so afraid of me?" he asked, genuinely confused. "You're the one who stole from me. You're the one who cheated."

"I never cheated!" Annelise screamed, tears finally spilling over. "You... you people are animals! You destroyed my life!"

The words hung in the air, heavy and ugly.

Archibald recoiled as if she had slapped him. "What are you talking about?"

"That night," Annelise sobbed, hugging herself. "The blackout. You sent him... You..." She couldn't finish. The idea that this man was her husband was too insane, so her mind clung to the only other explanation: that he was the mastermind. She slid down to the floor, curling into a ball.

Archibald stared at her, his mind racing.

The blackout.

She was talking about the blackout. But she was accusing him of... sending someone? She wasn't accusing him. She was terrified of him, but her words were confused. It didn't make any sense.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Archibald said, his voice turning to ice. "But I will get answers."

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