My hands tightened into fists, and I looked pointedly at Camilla. “I could say the same to you. Enjoy your time together.”

I walked away, hating him...hating myself.

* * *

Over the next few days, a routine developed. Mr. Ankh tested the samples we’d stolen, becoming increasingly frustrated with the results. Everything was useless. The more tech-savvy people dissected every word on every computer file pulled from the slip disks, but again, there was nothing of value.

It was as if Anima had known we were coming, removed everything incriminating and let us have the lab. Let us waste our time searching for answers that weren’t there, either to pacify us or distract us.

If that was true, we had a mole in our midst—which might also explain how Benjamin the assassin had gotten free, despite what he’d said.

The idea sickened me. I trusted everyone in my group; we’d fought together, bled together. And I wanted to trust River and his friends. But could I? I mean, they supposedly had spies inside Anima, and yet, there was never any new information to report.

Cole would say Helen was to blame for all of this. Only Helen.

My stomach twisted, wringing out bile. Oh, glory. What if he was right?

Can’t doubt my instincts now. In too deep.

Every morning, the slayers worked out in the gym. Our job was physical; we had to stay in shape. On more than one occasion I noticed Camilla eye-stalking Cole, making it (more) obvious she wanted a piece of him. Today, she even trailed him when he finished on the treadmill. It took every bit of my willpower not to go after them.

Stupid fight. And stupid Cole!

Stupid Camilla!

At least he glanced over his shoulder, meeting my gaze. Every cell in my body lit up. I almost cried his name. Almost. I wouldn’t crumble first.

He looked away and continued on. Still no spontaneous visions.

I wasn’t sure how much more of this I could take.

Though I wanted to chase after him, I hopped on the treadmill he’d just abandoned, letting my mind explore the visions the other slayers had been having. Just this morning, Frosty had seen himself digging through a pile of rubble, and Bronx had seen himself holding Reeve while she cried.

Gavin had seen himself fighting to reach an injured Jaclyn and an unconscious Justin, and Jaclyn had seen herself taking a bullet to the leg.

Bad, but at least we knew Justin was still alive despite Ethan’s lack of communication.

Another point in our favor: no more daylight zombies. However, they did come out every night and cluster around Mr. Ankh’s property line. Every night but yesterday, that is, and I wasn’t sure why. Still... The frequent attacks had allowed me to practice using the push-ability. I was getting good. I would focus, drawing energy into the center of my being, and then imagine it shooting out of me. And it would! I allowed myself one push, and that was it. So far, I hadn’t experienced another leak.

But the frequent attacks were also the reason more and more of River’s slayers were moving into the mansion. We needed backup.

The new females were all over Cole. Not just Camilla, but most of her friends, too. A sly touch here. A suggestive remark there. I was no longer sure of my position in his life, so I kept quiet. But deep down, rage simmered.

I wasn’t just going to make them bleed; I was going to cause permanent damage.

Needless to say, tensions were high. And not just mine. All of the slayers were exhausted. Our current schedule was grueling. Too much so. We kept this up for much longer, and we’d collapse.

But maybe that was Anima’s plan. Exhaust us, and after we collapsed, pick us off one by one.

The conversations around me ceased abruptly, jarring me. I focused. Cole had just returned to the gym, his expression dark. My heart rate quickened, and not because of my steady jog.

He stopped beside me. “You’ve got a phone call.”

I wiped the sweat off my brow, smoothed my damp hair from my face. “Who is it?”

“Ethan.”

Finally! I jabbed my finger at the machine, and the belt froze. I hopped down and raced out, only to realize I didn’t know where to go.

“The cell is still in Ankh’s office,” he said. Mr. Ankh had it hooked to some kind of tracing device.

I picked up speed. Mr. Ankh was at his desk, and he did not look happy.

“Ethan will only talk to you,” he said.

We’d all prayed this day would come.

Just this morning, Kat had patted me on the back, smiled her most wily grin and said, “Let them think we’re going their way, while we really go our way...the best way!”

Now threads of nervousness slithered through me; I had to cut them with mental scissors as I reached for the cell phone.

Mr. Ankh donned a set of earphones so that he could listen to the entire conversation. He gave me a stiff nod.

“Hello, Ethan,” I said, proud of my seeming calm.

“Hello, Ali.” He displayed the same calm.

“Where have you been? Why the delay?”

“A few things came up. Nothing you need to worry about, though. Justin hasn’t dropped dead or anything like that.”

Sweet confirmation. My gaze scanned the room. Cole had come in behind me and Veronica and Juliana behind him. River strolled in next, with Frosty and Bronx close on his heels.

Jaclyn raced inside, her gaze wide, hopeful.

Word had spread.

I gave everyone a thumbs-up.

“—there?” Ethan asked.

“Yes, I’m here.” Steady. “I still want to do the trade,” I said. “But I’ll need new proof of life.”