"Robyn."

"What?"

Finn took off at a run. He'd left Robyn alone, without even Damon to watch her, and now Adele – the woman who wanted her dead, and who could find her anywhere – was on the loose.

He didn't slow until he reached the spot where he'd left Robyn. There, on the ground, lay the pair of binoculars.

HOPE

When the tear gas exploded, Karl knocked Hope to the ground. It wasn't necessary – she was already headed that way and grabbing for his arm to yank him down with her, the demon's hunger for chaos temporarily overridden by its hunger for continued life.

As Hope was twisting to pull him down, someone barreled into him. Hope rolled out of the way so he wouldn't drop on her and then...

She wasn't really sure what happened then. The demon decided they were out of danger long enough to enjoy a chaos snack before completing their escape. That interlude of euphoria ended when a foot crunched Hope's spine, she realized Karl wasn't beside her and the demon shouted at her to get the hell out of there.

She got on all fours, shut her eyes and crawled as fast as she could, ignoring the blows and kicks of people tripping over her. When she finally tasted a current of fresh air on the breeze, she opened her eyes. The chaos-laced smoke still eddied around them, but she could make out the shapes of buildings and people. One person in particular – Adele Morrissey racing across the field.

Hope scrambled to her feet and shot after Adele.

Hope started along a house, darting from bush to bush. But she quickly realized it wasn't necessary. Adele never glanced back, which told Hope she'd already been spotted. Adele must have caught a glimpse when Hope first started after her, and now she watched Hope's progress remotely, letting her think she hadn't noticed. Hope played the game, and kept her gun holstered, out of sight.

When Hope rounded the barn, she saw Adele's destination – a small outbuilding in the middle of a field. For an ambush or hiding place, she'd have chosen the barn, but Adele's trajectory put her on target for the shed and, sure enough, a moment later, she was inside it.

Hope darted to the door, then waited, ears and chaos sensors on full. A key clicked in a lock. Then a rhythmic clang-clang, growing distant until it faded. Hope slipped inside. One section of the hay-covered floor had been hastily cleared. Beneath it was a hatch, conveniently left open, should Hope not be clever enough to figure out where Adele had gone.

Beneath the hatch, a metal ladder descended into darkness. With a distant click, a dim light filled the bottom. The sound of one lock opening. Footsteps. The scrape of a key. The creak of a door. A blast of manic voices. Cartoons?

The noise faded, and Hope dismissed it as shrieks from outside.

She climbed down the ladder, closing the hatch behind her so no one would follow her down. As she neared the bottom, she hunched down to get a better look at what she was descending into, but all she could see from her vantage point was an empty room with a door. She called on the demon to pick up any tremors of chaos. It reported negative.

Hope still lowered herself as slowly as she could, knowing Adele could be waiting at the bottom.

She wasn't. She'd even left the door ajar for Hope.

Hope crept up to it, taking out her gun now, keeping it hidden under her jacket in case Adele was watching. Hope eased open the door. It led to a dimly lit tunnel and another door at the end, a sliver of light telling Hope it too was cracked open. She did a chaos check, then crept down the hall and pulled open the second door.

Adele stood right there, looking into the room, her back to Hope.

"Come in, Hope," she said. "It is Hope, isn't it?"

She spun, gun flying up... only to see Hope pointing at her. She looked at it. Blinked. And laughed, a high girlish laugh.

"The element of surprise is lost with us, isn't it?" She lowered her gun. "I'm not going to shoot you. Read my mind or whatever it is you do. You need to take me out of here alive. I want to leave alive, and the only way I'm doing that is in your custody."

She turned her back to Hope, a mind-blowing act of trust. Or, Hope suspected, arrogance. But she was right. Right now, their goals coincided. Still, Hope wasn't lowering her gun.

"Close the door," Adele said.

Hope did – she didn't want anyone sneaking up behind her.

"Might as well get comfortable. I have a plan to get us out, but until someone shows up to negotiate with, we're stuck."

Again, Hope had to agree. The property was swarming with armed men – cops or Cabal, she wasn't sure. Add the rifle-toting kumpania members, and she wasn't setting foot outside this bunker until someone granted her safe passage.

As for what they were in, bunker was the word that came to mind, but as she passed through the entryway into the main room, she had a vision... of a playground, the one she and Karl had been standing outside only hours ago. That's what this looked like: a day care, all bright colors and plush furniture. A TV flashed now – silent cartoons. There was even a crib pushed against the wall. Why would there be – ?

" 'dele?"

"It's okay, sweetie," Adele said. "That's Hope. Oh, you like her, do you? You like pretty girls." Her voice was light, but a hard note crept into it, and the look she shot Hope was dagger-sharp.

Hope sidestepped to see around Adele. There was a boy in the chair and, for one jolting moment, she thought it was Colm. But it was a distorted view, as if the angle was skewed, something not quite right.

"Come meet Thom," Adele said. "I think he likes you." Her lips curved, but there was too much snarl in it to be mistaken for a smile.

As Hope moved forward she tried not to stare. The boy in the chair wasn't much older than Colm, with the same blue eyes and red hair, but his head was slightly oversized and misshapen, with plastic tubes running out of it – shunts, she realized.

Thom watched Hope. There was a keenness in his eyes, a probing curiosity.

Adele walked over, her arms going around his neck, lips to his bulging forehead.

"Yep, this is Thom. The proud daddy. Aren't you, sweetie?"

She snuggled against him, her breasts rubbing his face. When Adele had named her baby's father and called him

"retarded," Hope had assumed she was lying, trying to shock the kumpania into outrage so she could escape. Now she saw the truth. Adele had seduced not only a fifteen-year-old boy, but his mentally handicapped brother, an act as horrific as molesting a child.