TRANCE, Inc. 20

It was a strange dream.

A soft, heavy warmth embraced all my senses. I felt as if I was slowly sinking beneath the ocean waves, further and further from the surface. Only one thing kept me from falling completely into a dreamless slumber — the voices that drifted into my perception. They were harsh and grating, colored with violence.

"Lower your weapon!" A woman's voice. She sounded angry. "Can't you see? He needs a doctor!"

"You know he can't live." Another woman. Her voice was rougher, and it had a hostile edge. "We don't know how much he heard. We can't tell how much he knows. You think the treaty is going to protect you if you stay in my way? You killed Boris, and if you don't back off then I say fuck the treaty. You're dead, too."

A pause.

Then, "What if the treaty applied to both of us?"

A moment of silence. It stretched out long enough that I felt myself beginning to slip away.

"You didn't."

The first woman asked, "Do you wish to risk it?"

"Fuck you," the second woman answered, but there was uncertainty in her tone. "Fuck fuck fuck... Why couldn't you just let me kill them both?"

What a strange dream this was.

The second woman spoke again. "You know we can't leave behind a possible information breach, whatever you say. I need proof."

"Proof?"

"That he knows nothing. I know you can make him forget. You must do it all the time. We will witness."

"What?!" The first voice was growing more and more familiar to me. "You believe I would simply—?"

"It wasn't a request." I got the sense that there was a weapon backing up the second woman's words.

A sigh of exasperation and impatience. I recognized that sound from somewhere. "Very well. But then you will allow us to leave in peace."

I was floating in soft, weightless comfort when I felt an abrupt pain in the side of my— Oh...

That felt good...

Distantly, as I finally sank into the depths, I could hear a cough of discomfort.

A voice, a man's voice this time, commented quietly, "I never got used to seeing this."

* * *

My eyes snapped open and I pushed myself up at the same time.

"What the fuck—? Ow!"

I rubbed at my eyes and fell back down onto my elbow, groaning in pain. I was laying on a cold, metal table in a dingy basement. The only light, a hanging lamp directly above me, swung wildly on its cord where I'd banged it with my forehead. In the pendulum spotlight view I got of the room, I saw Terra spring to her feet in an instant.

The woman had been sitting on the bottom few step of the basement room. She no longer wore the bulky parka, which left her in the black sports bra and running pants she'd been wearing earlier in the evening. There was something fierce in the way she held herself: a coiled, predatory energy. There was a sword in her hand.

The woman had obviously been deep in thought, because a flurry of emotions raced across her features: surprise, anger, uncertainty, and then concern. This last remained on her face as she hurried across the small space to the table. On the way, she stretched out and deposited the weapon on a work bench. Next to it was a crumpled pile that looked like her heavy jacket.

With a deft hand, Terra grabbed the erratic lamp and brought it to a stop. "Chance?" she asked. "Are you alright? Do not move overmuch." She reached out to rest a hand on my shoulder, quietly pressing me back down. Her fingertips were cool and pleasant where they touched my skin, and that was when I realized I was shirtless.

I pulled back instinctively, then flicked my eyes down my bare torso. I must be crazy, I thought. Because I could have sworn I'd been... There was a neat white bandage around my ribs. ... shot.

A speck of red stained the clean wrapping. It was bright, but it didn't look wet. "I was shot," I said, staring at the droplet. As the sharp pain in my forehead began to fade, I could feel a dull ache radiating out from my left side.

My hand stretched out hesitantly to probe the wound but Terra's fingers wrapped around my wrist. "Leave it be," she ordered. "You will undo my work."

I gave her a disbelieving look. "Your work? Why am I not in a hospital right now?"

"Yes, my work." The woman jerked her head in a nod. "It was a clean wound, entry and exit. You lost some blood, and so you may feel lightheaded. But I was able to take care of what I could. You can get up and move in a moment, but do not play with the bandaging."

My hand dropped back to the table, and I settled back. Terra appeared so certain, and I didn't seem to be in any immediate danger to my life. Maybe I didn't need to visit a hospital? The bright light shone down on my face, and the most pertinent fact butted back into my mind. "I was shot," I repeated. "Shrike shot me." I felt stunned. I had never in my life expected to be saying these words.

"Yes."

I shook my head as another thought nagged at my mind. "And... I shot him?" My voice was hesitant.

Terra gave me a look. "Do you not remember?"

I bit my lip, then shook my head. Things were fuzzy. "I remember that he was about to shoot you," I muttered. "I stopped him, but he shot me instead. I had his gun in my hand. I was pointing it at his head..." I trailed off. "Did I kill him?"

The woman hesitated, then looked away.

I couldn't tell if I really wanted to know, but I felt like I had to. "Tell me, please."

No response. It was tough to read her expression in the shadows.

"Please, Terra."

When she turned back to face me fully, my eyes widened. For a moment, I forgot my question, because that was when I stopped long enough to notice the blood. It was speckled down her throat and upper chest. Her fingers and hands were splattered up her forearms. I could even see a streak of it across one cheek.

"Jesus Christ..." I whispered. That's my blood, I realized. It must have gotten all over her when she was bandaging my wound.

"You have questions," Terra said. She had composed her expression from concerned to cool. There was a professionalism to her voice. "But you have to decide, do you want to sit here asking questions or do you want to save the women you love?"

I felt my heartbeat quicken. "What do you mean?" I looked around and started to sit up again. I realized I had no idea how long I'd been unconscious. "Where am I? How long have I been out?"

Terra once again put her hand on my shoulder, but this time she helped me maneuver around the hanging lamp and sit up. "Not long," she reassured me. "I was able to negotiate us out of the house, and got you back to my home as quickly as I could. You seemed to be in and out of consciousness on the way. You passed out again when I got you on the table. Now..." The woman cocked her head a second; like she was thinking, or listening to something far away. "We probably have two and a half hours until sunrise."

I frowned. If that's accurate, then it's what... four in the morning? Five?

I wondered how long it had been since I saw Amber. I wondered where "darling Principal Clayton" could have taken her. Terra was right. There was no time for questions. My girlfriend might already be gone for good. She might have left the City with the mysterious Mr. Morrison. And the more time I wasted here, the more likely it was that she would be lost for good.

I nodded several times, then cleared my throat and looked Terra in the face. "You've already done... so much tonight. I don't fully know what's going on, and I can't expect that you know much more than me. But I know that you saved my life. Probably several times, honestly. And I wouldn't ask anything more if I didn't desperately need your help. But I do. I need someone to watch my back while I save my family. And I wouldn't trust anyone to do that more than I trust you."

The woman watched me for a moment, like she was judging everything behind my words as much as the words themselves. Her face was studiously blank. Then, she shrugged and gave me a smile that was almost shy.

"That's what friends are for," she said, her smooth, enticing accent sending trickles of lightning down my back. "What do you need me to do?"

* * *

When we stepped out onto Terra's porch, my arm around the woman's shoulders for a little extra support, I froze before we even got down the steps. Parked casually at the curb in front of her house was a sleek black sports car of the type that typically cost more than your average two-bedroom home.

"I thought you said you didn't have a car," I muttered, stunned. It only struck me then that this was how she must have gotten me here.

But Terra simply snorted, before helping me down the front stairs. "This was the fastest-looking vehicle in the dead man's garage. Which was important, because I was in a bit of a hurry at the time."

Once I was settled in the passenger side, I looked over my shoulder and could see where the spurting of my own blood had sprayed a stain across the leather backseats. It made me swallow in discomfort and imagine that another spike of pain was shooting through my side.

I was shot, I thought as I turned back to the front. I glanced over at Terra. And she saved me.

"How did you do it?" I asked suddenly.

My teacher raised her eyebrows, pressing a button and awakening the engine.

"You saved me." I explained. "And I'm grateful. But I still don't know how." I gave my teacher a look as another thought struck me. "I thought you were dead. Shrike shot you. I saw him."

Terra nodded, pulling away from the curb. "My jacket doubles as a bulletproof vest," she said. Her tone suggested that this was nothing out of the ordinary.

I frowned. I hadn't thought about that. I guess that adds up, I supposed. Terra had claimed to be some sort of exiled soldier from a foreign land, after all. "But you also fell, what...? Thirty feet off the balcony?"

"Probably closer to twenty," Terra shrugged, making our first turn. "Into a fortuitously placed hedge."

I shook my head. "You're saying this like it's no big deal," I insisted. "But then you killed a man by cutting off his head with a sword. And you talked your way out of a standoff with three angry mercenaries after executing their friend and attacking their client. That's not no big deal. It's insane. And I don't know why both of us aren't dead, but I know that it's because of you." I trailed off, but I stared at the woman with an expression that told her I was bursting with questions.

For the first time tonight, Terra turned a look my way that was guaranteed to silence my probing questions. Her eyebrows came together and her almond-shaped eyes were hard. "You had best focus on the problems of the moment, Chance," she ordered. "Is there not a matter of more import? Do you know how you will you save your harem? Or is all of this futile?"

I hesitated. Almost as striking as my teacher's look was the fact that someone had used the word harem to describe my family, and I knew Terra hadn't done it in jest. Is that what we are? I wondered. But I shook off the question. Labels weren't important right now. Questioning Terra wasn't important. Stopping Seth and Clayton was.

"I'm sorry if I'm asking about things you don't want to talk about," I said. "You're right. I need to think about what's important."

I lapsed into silence, and aside from asking me for one or two directions Terra remained silent the rest of the drive. We took a detour to make a single stop, then continued straight on to the Academy.

When we came to a stop directly in front of the building, I stared up at it. I had a vague feeling of discomfort and unease, but I figured that was natural. The only times I had been here before were to spy on my girlfriend as a sinister organization prepared to sell her into sexual slavery.

Terra came around to help me out of the car, and I grunted as I pushed myself out of the low-slung seat. I wasn't in much pain, but my body and muscles felt stiff. I pressed a hand instinctively to the wound but Terra squeezed my shoulder gently.

"Don't mess with it," she chided. "I've packed the entry and exit wounds with a special poultice, but if you keep touching it you could aggravate the wound."

I gritted my teeth, nodded and stayed silent, holding the shiny metal banister tight as I climbed the wide steps up to the front doors of the Academy. It was very late, or quite early, and the building was dark. Unlike many modern businesses, the front wall was solid instead of transparent, and the first floor windows were dark. The building appeared still and quiet, dead. There was no doorbell or communication button, though it did look like there was an intercom speaker to the right of the entrance.

Is this useless? I wondered, staring at the large, wooden front doors. But I shook my head, shoving the thought away. This was the only place I knew to go. I tightened my jaw and strode forward, striking the doors several times with my fist.

Bang bang bang.

I waited, glancing around.

Nothing. I could hear the sounds of the City not far away, but it seemed that this street was deserted. The wood was cool under my hand when I struck again, louder.

Bang bang bang.

Still nothing, and I felt myself begin to fill with frustration and dread.

My scowl deepened, and my fists clenched tighter. "We should have gone back to Shrike's mansion!" I muttered, angry at my own stupidity. How could I have thought this would work? "He might have had information on Platinum Services. His files might have told us exactly what's going on with my girlfriend, or even how to reverse the TRANCE programming!"

But Terra shook her head. The woman had taken several steps back and was craning her neck, looking up. "We could not have gone back. By now, the gunshots will have drawn officers of the law. And even if they did not, the others will have left no traces behind. They will have wiped clean the dead man's home."

I hesitated. I hadn't thought about that. "The hit men?" I asked.

"Yes," my teacher answered. She glanced left and right down the street, sniffing the air.

"Did you know them?"

"Who?"

"The others. The ones you almost fought."

"By reputation only." Terra's answer was prompt, but dismissive. Either she didn't know much, or this fell under the broad umbrella of things she wasn't interested in talking about.

I lapsed into silence. Ideas of what to do next tumbled through my mind, but instead of helping they left me more confused and uncertain with every passing second.

I stepped back from the doors. "I think we should leave," I muttered, trying to battle the feeling of defeat. "Join forces with Victoria and save the twins while we figure out where Clayton took Amber."

Once again, Terra shook her head. "Wait..." she muttered. She narrowed her eyes, then glanced around and locked her gaze on the shadow of the stone eaves.

Following her look, I noticed the security camera for the first time. A little red light indicated that it was turned on, watching us. "What do you think?" I asked quietly.

"They are here," the woman muttered. "Watching. And listening."

The thought sent a spike of anger through me. The sense of confidence and warmth that had been growing all night stirred in my chest and awakened. Instead of being intimidated by this giant, impenetrable building, I suddenly felt triumphant. I had tracked my prey to their den and they were holding back, afraid.

Good, a voice inside me murmured. They had better be afraid. Tonight is the night of reckoning.

Then, in the moment before I stepped forward and addressed the camera directly, a voice crackled through the intercom. It was a man's voice, sophisticated and warm.

"Why, if it isn't Chance Laurenzi. Good evening, Mr. Laurenzi, I do hope you don't plan on disturbing everyone's night."

I recognized the voice. "Clayton, right?" I said. "Well, Mr. Clayton, I think you'll be happy to learn that I'm not here to ruin your night. In fact..." I reached into my pocket and my fingers closed around a small, plastic shape. I took a deep breath, and stared into the camera.

"I came to make a deal."

* * *

I recognized the man Clayton sent to fetch us.

He was one of the two who had accompanied the principal earlier in the night, preventing me from interfering with Amber's departure. He was tall, at least six feet, with a shaggy brown beard and a heavy unibrow. He pulled open one of the big doors, then came up short when he saw Terra step from the shadows.

He paused, pulling in a quick breath. "Who's this?" he grunted.

I tossed a look back at my companion and saw the woman about to answer, but I stepped in. "It's not your job to ask questions," I said, drawing the man's eyes back to my face. I gave him a hard stare. "It's your job to take us back to your boss. Now."

Clayton's bruiser hesitated, giving the dark-haired woman another glance. Terra smiled at him, her teeth bright in the shadows, and the man turned quickly away. Without another word, he gestured for us to follow and then disappeared inside.

"Terra?" I said. I put out a hand to stop the woman.

"What is it?" she asked. Her dark, almond-shaped eyes turned toward me.

"Before we go in there, I need to know..." My heart thudded hard in my chest, but I steeled myself. I did need to know. "Did I kill Landon Shrike?"

Terra held my gaze for just a moment before she looked away. I'd never seen her lovely, Eurasian features composed in a look more intense than the one she wore now.

I was holding my breath. In all honesty, I didn't know if I wanted her to say—

"You did..." she whispered.

The breath fell out of my lungs in a long, low sigh. I swallowed, and nodded. "Thank you," I said.

I squared my shoulders. Alright, then.

With my companion shadowing me closely, I stepped inside.

The elevator in the darkened lobby took us up quite a few floors before opening onto an expansive terrace. Following our guide, we maneuvered around the scattered shapes of outdoor furniture and made our way for the primary source of light — the orange and yellow glow of a fire pit that had been pulled over by the balcony railing. Wicker couches had been positioned in a square around the flames, and seated on the far side of the dancing fire was none other than Principal Clayton himself.

A tall shadow standing behind him, just on the edge of the firelight, was probably his second bodyguard.

Taking a single breath to steady myself, I strode forward with energy and stepped into the bubble of illumination. I slid down onto the couch, sensing Terra as she took up a position behind me. Instead of looking back for my ally, I concentrated on the figure across from me.

Clayton looked like a man who had aged well into his middle years, with a full head of well-trimmed hair and the weathered features of someone who had spent a lot of time with the sun on his face. He reclined back with his arms spread wide, one ankle on the opposite knee. He smiled when I sat, but waited a moment before he gestured and said, "I didn't expect to see you again, to be perfectly honest. Much less with a proposition. What business do you believe you have with me?"

I stared into his eyes for a moment before answering, and there was none of his easy warmth in my tone. My voice was cold and hard. "Where's Amber?"

Clayton glanced away, settling back in the couch. Disappointment oozed from his posture. "I'm afraid your friend Amber is otherwise engaged at the moment."

"Girlfriend," I emphasized.