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ball-sized lump that looked as though it were Play-Doh and not plastique. “If we hide the blasting cap on a key chain, we should make it through without any trouble.”
    “What if we target the hospital wing?” said Val. “Full of valuable equipment and medications.” She leaned into me, her next words so soft the others didn’t hear. “Besides, I hate that place. Dinging it up a bit will feel cathartic.”
    I stroked her face, anchoring myself against my own rush of memories featuring the Consortium’s hospital wing: barging into the exam room where Val had first learned she was a vampire; falling into unconsciousness as my blood mingled with Sebastian’s in a desperate attempt to synthesize a cure for Brenner’s plague; imagining Valentine pale and inert, unable to protest as a stranger’s blood dripped into her veins.
    She was right. Setting off an explosion there would feel very good, indeed.
     
    *
     
    The Kips Bay branch of the New York Public Library looked moderately crowded when Val and I entered an hour later. I fought my Midwestern impulse to smile at the man seated behind the circulation desk. If I did, I would stand out, and it was crucial that no one take special notice of me. As the “most innocuous looking” of the group, according to Summers, I had been chosen to carry the sphere of C-4. The detonator was tucked into a gaudy Statue of Liberty keychain I’d picked up at a nearby tourist shop.
    We were the second pair to walk through the library doors, ten minutes behind Foster and Summers. We bypassed the elevator and turned into the stairwell. The first subterranean level was open to the public, but a chain link across the next flight proclaimed subsequent levels to be for employees only.
    Val stepped over the chain and held out her hand. I laced our fingers together, not because I needed assistance, but because I needed so badly to feel her skin against mine. She had drunk from me again before we left Headquarters, and my body ached for fulfillment. The unabated hunger in her eyes was proof that she shared my need.
    We had no time for indulgence, but I refused to leave our mutual desire unacknowledged. Now more than ever, we had to be open and honest with each other. When she would have continued on, I stopped her by threading my arms around her neck and pulling her head down for a long, slow kiss.
    “I know what you crave,” I murmured against her lips. “And I want your touch so badly. When this is over, we’ll find the time. I promise.”
    Val’s body shuddered. Sensing her frayed control, my panther paced restlessly behind my eyes—not out of fear, but anticipation. She too wanted what only Valentine could give us, and the craving put her on edge.
    “We’d better keep moving.” Val’s voice was rough with arousal. “In another minute, I won’t be responsible for my own actions.”
    I nipped at her chin as I reluctantly pulled away. Her sharp intake of breath would have made me smile on any other day. I took the lead as we continued along the stairs past a door leading to “Storage” and down another flight. The door to the lowest level was propped open, just as Summers and Foster had promised. As I ducked inside, I briefly wondered who had disabled the alarm.
    My eyes adjusted almost instantly. A large boiler took up half the room, its internal machinery clanking.
    “Here.” Foster’s call would have been inaudible to human ears. We joined them in a small alcove directly opposite the door, where they had already moved a set of shelves blocking the far wall. The outline of a small door was visible through a layer of dust and cobwebs.
    Summers fit a small key into the rusty lock. He had to jimmy it a few times before the bolt slid back, and at first, the door wouldn’t budge. Val and I jumped in to set our shoulders to the warped wood, and at our second push, it swung inward. I was about to step into the passageway when I caught the familiar cadence of Constantine’s