“But,” she went on, “that doesn’t explain why they’d take her now, instead of killing her. Why do they want her back? If they created the Angel Serum once, they could do it again. They don’t need her.”

“And based on the audio logs for Patient 2124,” Trev said, “she was more trouble than she was worth.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think Elizabeth was Patient 2124.”

Trev frowned. “No?”

I got a flash of the girl in the cell in the lab, the one who’d whipped me with a bedsheet. I closed my eyes, tried to recall the whole memory. The girl had been skinny. Her eyes were narrow, pinched at the corners, as if there was a drop of Asian heritage somewhere in her past. Definitely not Elizabeth’s big, round eyes. I was such an idiot for not seeing it sooner.

Even though it wasn’t Elizabeth, I still felt like I knew that girl—I just couldn’t place her. The answer was right there, but my head was pounding and nothing made sense.

I lay back down, feeling like I might puke.

“Here.” Anna handed me a plastic cup.

I gave it a sniff. Vodka. I grinned at her and emptied it in one gulp.

“We can debate all this later,” she said. “Right now we need to patch you up.”

Anna, Sam, and Trev got to work while Cas flipped through the TV channels and settled on one of those Real Housewives shows. “This bitch is crazy,” he said, right before he stuffed his face with a handful of popcorn.

Once the wounds were cleaned up, and I’d downed two more shots of vodka, Trev came at me with a needle and suture thread. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

The bullet wound wasn’t too bad, and had been deemed safe for patching up. The knife wounds were another story. Trev started on the one on my shoulder. The pain was searing, like a hot poker in my skin, over and over again.

Fifteen seconds in, I couldn’t wait for it to be over. I gritted my teeth. Tried to internalize the pain and swallow it down before I ripped someone’s head off.

Trev was quick and efficient and had the first wound closed up in less than ten minutes. The cut on my abdomen was bigger, though, and would require more stitches. Twelve, it turned out.

“You really should stay off your feet for a few days,” Sam said as Anna bandaged up the last wound with gauze and tape.

I sat up when she finished, swallowed a grimace, and got to my feet. “I can rest once Elizabeth is safe.”

I had a sudden, driving need to find her, a need to protect her. It wasn’t like what I’d felt with Anna, when the Branch had programmed me to defend her at any cost. This felt different.

It wasn’t an automatic reaction, it was a conscious decision.

I didn’t have to protect her, I wanted to, and that was something I hadn’t felt, ever.

“You barely know this girl,” Sam said as he moved in front of me, blocking my way from around the bed.

“I know her enough.”

The room grew quiet.

“Is she worth risking your life for?”

Was she? I’d been with her less than a week, but it felt like forever. I couldn’t stop replaying that kiss over and over in my head, and the wounded look on her face when I pulled back. I’d never felt any lingering attachment to any girl in the past, but Elizabeth was different.

She saw through all my bullshit and accepted me for who I was, broken pieces and all.

I couldn’t leave her in the hands of the Branch so they could wipe her clean.

I knew jackshit about relationships, but deep down, in the darkest part of me, I knew I needed a girl like Elizabeth. I needed her to save me.

“If it was Anna,” I said to Sam, “would you go?”

“That’s different.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Sam,” Anna said. He flinched.

“Whatever reason the Branch had for wanting Elizabeth in the past is still a reason to worry about in the present.” I shoved around him. “So I’m going. With or without you.”

32

ELIZABETH

MOM AND RILEY TOOK ME TO A two-story house on the outskirts of town, crammed onto a small lot on the corner of Apple Street and Sherman Avenue. Children were outside playing in the front yard of the brick house next door when we pulled up. A girl blew bubbles through a wand while her younger brother chased after them, giggling. Their mom sat nearby watching, a magazine open in her lap.

It all seemed so normal, so unlike my life.

Riley hit the garage door opener clipped to his visor and pulled inside a moment later.

“Come on, sweetie,” Mom said, coaxing me out of the car.

Reluctantly, I climbed out, and let Mom lead me through a mudroom and into the kitchen. Two men in plain clothes, with guns at their waists, stood around discussing a recent sports game.

Riley interrupted the conversation and introduced them to me, but I couldn’t be bothered to remember their names. Everything everyone said seemed hollow and distant, as if I were underwater and drowning.

I blinked.

I was in the living room now. Sitting. Mom was sitting next to me, her hand threaded with mine.

“Would you like some tea?” she asked.

I nodded. Yes.

“Do you need anything else?” she asked.

I shook my head. No.

“Pills,” I said, a second later, changing my mind. “My anxiety meds.”

Currently, I was numb inside, but it would only be a matter of time before everything caught up to me, and when it did…