“We don’t have time for a new plan.” “Time or not, we have no choice.” I gesture to the empty garage. “Without the knockout serum, I’ve got nothing.” He swears under his breath, words so vile and vicious that only a villain would use them. Then he yanks out his phone, hitting speed dial. “We’ve got a problem, Dante,” he barks when his cousin answers the phone, no preliminaries. “Get here, now.” He doesn’t say any more than that, doesn’t warn Dante or Rebel about what to expect when they get here. Instead, he just disconnects the call, shoves the phone back in his pocket, and starts to pace like a caged tiger. I try to think what our next steps should be, but it’s hard with panic ripping through me. Mom. Mom. Mom. She’s all I can think about. All I can see when I close my eyes. All I can focus on, even though I know that if I want to save her, I have to concentrate on being smarter, sneakier, better than the bad guys—whichever side they’re on.
