Free Sweet Legacy (Sweet Venom) by Tera Lynn Childs Page B

boss.
    When he can only smack at the button plate, he shrugs. “Can’t. That’s the trouble with flippers, you know.”
    “Grace,” Nick says, ignoring the boss’s attempt at humor, “push the button.”
    I reach out, hand shaking, and call the elevator.
    I’m not scared that Nick will kill me, not anymore—I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t anyway, but the thought of what Gretchen would do to him if he did would probably give him second thoughts in any case.
    Everyone is very tense: the boss, even though he’s acting unconcerned, the uneasy goons watching the boss escort us to the lift, and Nick behind me.
    No one wants me dead here, least of all me, but tension can make people do things they otherwise wouldn’t.
    As we stand there waiting for the elevator to arrive, I study the people around us, or rather the monsters—the creatures who appear human to the ordinary people in my building. These beastly bodyguards could crush me with their bare hands, never mind the various weapons each one is carrying. Our only protection is my value as part of the Key Generation.
    My palms are itching to get us out of this situation.
    The elevator arrives with a creak and a sad ding. As the bronze door jerks open, I feel Nick tense up behind me. We’re almost home free—why is he getting more nervous? Something is about to happen, but I’m not sure what.
    “Nick, what—”
    He releases me, shoves me into the elevator car, and lunges for the boss.
    “Get out of here,” he shouts. “Autoport as soon as the doors close. Find your mother and get safe.”
    “No,” I scream as I stumble to the back of the car and brace myself against my crash into the mirrored wall. “Nick, wait!”
    But as I dive back for the door, it slides closed. I try to shove my hands into its path, to find the sensor that will reverse the motion, but I can’t. It crashes shut, and suddenly I’m in the elevator, alone and afraid.
    Before I can push a button—before my brain stops freaking out long enough to tell me to push the button for the floor we’re on so I can go back and help Nick—the car starts moving. Up.
    “Shoot.”
    I stare at the button panel. There are eight floors, with no way of knowing where the elevator will stop. Maybe it’s just another resident in the building. People must call the death trap all the time, right?
    But as the elevator slows to a stop on the floor above mine, I have a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. The door starts lurching open, revealing a tiny sliver of the hallway beyond—just enough for me to see the gang of thugs waiting with their weapons drawn.
    Without thinking, I shut my eyes and blink myself out of there.
     
    My thoughts are muddled by the fear and confusion. I’m not thinking clearly as I autoport myself out of the elevator. There isn’t a thought in my brain except for escape. Get away, get somewhere safe. That’s the only explanation I can think of for my popping onto the soccer field at Milo’s school.
    Milo is doing ball drills a few feet away.
    “Grace?” he asks, blinking as he lets the ball hit the ground.
    Shoot, shoot, shoot .
    “M-Milo—” Looking around, I’m relieved—beyond relieved—to see no other soccer players on the field. This is bad, but it could have been really bad. “What are you doing here?”
    He gives me a look that implies that’s not the most relevant question at the moment. But he answers it anyway.
    “Coach wants me to improve my footwork.” He crosses the short distance between us. “What the heck just happened?”
    Yep, there’s the relevant question. The one I don’t want to answer.
    I shake my head. The reality of the situation rushes in. I don’t have time for this. I can’t afford to have this discussion with Milo right now. I have to get back to the apartment to help Nick.
    He just saved my life, and I have to return the favor.
    I’ll have to use my hypno-eyes on Milo. It won’t wipe his memory altogether, but it’ll give me a