confirmation on your father?
I’m looking right at him.
I’m looking right at the
combination lock — or
should I say rock?
Be careful.
You too.
Santiago worked his magic, and the door opened with a hydraulic hiss. “I’ve got to get me one of these.”
“You really need a secret lair with a stone doohickey on the door?”
Perfectly serious, he asked, “Doesn’t everyone?”
Not waiting for an answer, he guided us through the labyrinthine twists of the maintenance tunnels.
Dim lights illuminated the space enough we didn’t bump into each other, but the fit was tight. My shoulders brushed on either side, and so did Santiago’s. Cole was sliding his back against the wall, the only way his broad shoulders would fit. Even then, it was touch and go. I worried he might get stuck, and that distracted me until I banged my head against a pipe. Hissing a curse, I kept going, shrugging off Cole’s attempts to ascertain how badly I was injured when it was my pride that had taken the worst hit.
No wonder the Malakhim avoided this place. I didn’t have wings. Well, I guess I did. Weird. But I hadn’t used them to do more than stir a breeze. Anyway — I was claustrophobic by the time we reached a steel door with a heavy manual locking mechanism that Santiago manipulated without a hitch.
Lending him my weight, I eased the door open on silent hinges, and we crept into the gloom.
The smell hit me first. Livestock carried an earthy aroma all its own, and that was before you factored in the biological necessities. Cattle lowed in the left corner, and goats bleated to our right. Chickens clucked ahead, and I suspected their cries were answered by ducks or geese.
“Is there a butcher station tucked away in the kitchens?” I wondered out loud after grasping the scope of the operation. “There are enough animals here to feed — ”
“These animals don’t end up in the kitchen.”
“Ah.”
Santiago left me to imagine what that meant, and since I had witnessed a certain dragon downing cattle the way I popped Tic Tacs, I didn’t have to stretch my imagination. These must be meals for the more animalistic charun. The ones unable to blend with the human population. I hadn’t realized this facility treated them, but I hadn’t thought much past their credentials for treating a human, honestly. The fact they brought Wu here should have spoken volumes.
As the animals did after they caught wind of the predators in their midst.
The noise ratcheted higher and higher, and soon each stall we passed held frantic livestock flashing the whites of their eyes. Hooves kicked walls, inhuman screams pierced the air, and the commotion brought the handlers running.
“Nonpredatory species,” Santiago murmured as we three ducked into an empty stall to wait.
I leaned in close. “How can you tell?”
Tapping the side of his nose, he said, “They make me hungry.”
Putting a smidgen more distance between us, I inched closer to Cole.
Heavy footsteps thumped past us, and a male released a disgusted grunt at the uproar.
“Better not be another one of those damn cats. Last time Barns left the entrance open when he came in to take a piss, and a mountain lion got in. Scarred up the cattle before moving on to easier pickings. Ate every chicken. Every damn one.”
“I brought the tranq gun,” a female said. “If it’s another cat, we’ve got it covered.”
A tiny voice in my head wondered if Wu had anything to do with that cat finding its way in, with planting the seed that there were other explanations for livestock panic aside from facility infiltration, but maybe that was paranoia talking. We were up in the mountains, after all.
Santiago gestured toward the door the pair had entered through, and I glanced back at Cole to make certain he saw. He was busy tracking the immediate threat, so I caught his hand and tugged to get his attention.
The problem with touching Cole was, once I had him, I didn’t want to let go.
Tick-tick-tick.
That’s what I kept hearing. My ears rang with it. Any moment could be our last. Any misstep could be the one that gave us away, the tipping point that cost us all our lives.
Never one to utter empty placations, Cole leaned forward, resting his forehead against mine. We stayed like that a moment, our breaths mingling, our gazes locked, and I mouthed, “I love you.”
Lately I was tempted to start and end all my conversations with that phrase. I couldn’t say it enough. It was like a physical pressure building behind my chest, ready to explode from my lips at a moment’s notice.
The only way to go forward was to pull on the cold place enough to ice my racing heart, my sweaty palms. Cole watched the transformation, unable to hide the tightening around his eyes, but he cupped my cheek and mouthed, “I love you, Luce.”
Turning away so he didn’t see how far down I had tunneled, past the point of his gesture warming me, I locked gazes with Santiago. He slid the bolt on the stall door free, scanned the aisle both ways, then gestured for me to follow. I did the same, clearing the way for Cole.
We reached the door leading into the facility without incident, and Santiago locked it behind us.
“This will slow them down,” he murmured.
“They won’t be suspicious?” We kept going, opting for the stairwell over the single elevator. “Doors like those don’t close themselves.”
“Standard protocol when working a security detail is to shut any doors behind you, but they left this one open in case they needed to make a quick exit.” He picked up the pace. “Memory is a funny thing. They’ll each wonder if the other shut it out of habit and be pissed to find their escape route blocked. This will too.” He pressed a few more buttons, and the green lights holding steady above the door flashed red. “Buh-bye security feed. We’re cloaked, now let’s move.”
Putting our head start to its best advantage, we quit jawing and got jogging up to the main floor.
The door marking the lobby had a glass panel inset into its front, and I peered through it, curious if Daddy Wu had cleared the facility to set the stage. The bustle of staff and trickle of visitors shouldn’t have surprised me. According to Wu, his father was loyal to his own terrene, and that was it. He wouldn’t care about a few extra fatalities if this went sideways.
“How do we get to the fourth floor?” I ducked out of sight as an orderly passed by our hiding place. “There must be another stairwell, right?”
“There is,” Santiago confirmed. “It’s opposite this one.”
“That’s great, but how do we get to it without being spotted?”
“We’re going to have to walk out of here, play it like we’re visiting a patient.” Cole laid it out for us. “The staff is familiar with us. Most won’t give us a second glance.”
The peaceful folks staffing this place understandably didn’t want to get on the wrong side of Conquest.
“It’s not a great plan, but it’s the only one we’ve got.” I puffed out my cheeks. “Who wants to go first?”
“That would be me.” Santiago spun a tablet across his palm. “I’ll scout and report back.”
“You and I always visited your father together,” Cole agreed. “They won’t blink at seeing us together.”
“You’re Conquest,” Santiago broke it down further, “and it’s the time of ascension. Anyone who hasn’t met you, or who is loyal to Conquest, will gawk. You’ll cause a scene, and that’s the last thing we need.”
“Don’t be a hero.” I jabbed him in the chest. “Do not engage until we arrive.”
“Aww.” Santiago hitched his lips to one side. “You do care.”
“Whatever,” I said, speaking his language with a fluidity that should have alarmed me.
Santiago cracked open the door then set a casual pace toward the stairwell across the inviting lobby.
Alone with Cole, I leaned against him, watching my phone. “I shoul
d have gone to see my dad when I had the chance.”
He and I had talked, and I had made empty promises, but I hadn’t set eyes on him in what felt like forever.
“You did what you had to do to keep him safe.” Cole pressed a warm kiss to my temple. “You did what he would want you to do, what he would do in your position.”
A text chimed, Santiago giving the all-clear.
“Thank you.” Because he wouldn’t have said it if he didn’t mean it. He would rather tell the truth than soothe a hurt with a lie. Pulling away from him, I tugged on the cuffs of my shirt, pulling them into the palm of my hand in a tight ball, an old habit I was slow to break. “We’re up.”
The one good thing about our exit was we got to make it together. Cole threaded his fingers through mine, and I clutched that precious lifeline he had tossed me. We kept our pace easy, casual, and we almost got away with the incognito bit. But, as Santiago had speculated, we drew attention from two young men who goggled at me like I was a legend come to life. To them, I suppose I was. I almost tripped over them when they darted in my path and hit the floor on their faces, arms stretching for my feet.
Lip curled, I threw on the brakes. “Get up.”
Cole squeezed my hand in a gentle warning. We didn’t want to draw more attention. These two clowns were already causing a scene.
“Please,” I gritted from between clenched teeth. “I’m happy to let you lick my boots later, but I need to go to the little girl’s room.”
Their heads shot up, eyes wide, and they pointed at the bathroom blessedly close to the stairwell entrance.
“Thanks.” I waved as I pivoted on my heel and hauled Cole — no easy feat — behind me.
“Lick your boots?” Amusement threaded his deep voice, and it rumbled through my bones. “Will you make good on your promise?”
“I didn’t say the actual word,” I reasoned, “so it’s not really a promise. That makes it a statement.”
“Is that cop logic?”
Thinking of Rixton shot fresh worry through me, but I managed a smile. “I learned from the best.”
We reached the restrooms, and using Cole as a shield, I slid into the stairwell with Santiago. I counted the seconds while I waited on Cole to join us, and when he did, he wore a crooked smile.
“They’re still prostrate,” he said, “awaiting your return.”
“Their extremities will go numb eventually, and they’ll figure out I’m not coming back.”
A girl could hope anyway.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
No one had been posted in the stairwell. Not a single Malakhim.
We walked right up and exited onto the floor where Kapoor was being held without incident.
No one guarded the door to his room. Not even a feather drifted through the hall.
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” I reached for my service weapon on instinct, but there was nothing to draw, and bullets didn’t do more than piss off charun. “I should have brought a sword.”
“Hard to hide those on your person,” Santiago said, stepping up beside me. “Plus, they tend to incite panic when wielded by Conquest with an I’m on a mission look in her eye.”
A trap within a trap, and there was no way to discover its mechanism until it sprung.
“I hope Wu knows what he’s doing,” I muttered and shoved open the door.
“Fucked up … coming here,” Kapoor whispered through split lips. “Should’ve … let me die.”
“Hello to you too.” I walked a slow circle beneath Kapoor, checking for wires or triggers we might bump when we pulled him down. “I’m not leaving you behind. That’s not how this works.”
“Get … yourself,” he rasped, “ … killed.”
“Not today.” I glanced around the room Cole and Santiago were busy clearing. “Wu is distracting his father. Where is everyone else?”
“Strung me up.” Kapoor panted, running out of energy fast. “Left in a hurry.”
A cold wash of dread swept through me. “Did they say anything?”
“No.” He clenched his fists, and fresh blood dripped. “Didn’t give ’im a thing.”
The blood loss was wreaking havoc on Kapoor, and confusion was setting in.
“No,” I murmured. “You wouldn’t have told them anything.”
Even if it cost him his life, and it nearly had — it still might — he would keep his silence.
Idiot.
Wu wasn’t worth this.
The enclave? Yeah. They deserved our protection, but this? This was preventable. Wu should have kept tabs on Kapoor. He should have brought him in when his situation ran too hot. But Wu had tunnel vision, and it paid to remember that the next person found strung up could be me, or a member of the coterie.
“I’m going to pull the bed over and stand on that.” I kept a dialogue going more to cover Kapoor’s ragged breathing than anything else. “I need to pry out the nails first.”
“Take your … ” Kapoor’s head went limp on his neck.
Time.
Cole moved the bed into position in the time it would have taken me to figure out how the locks worked on the wheels. I stepped up, stood on the mattress, and set to work beneath Kapoor but a noise brought me up short.
“Do you hear that?” I rubbed my hands over my ears. “That buzzing?”
Bees. Trapped in my skull. Driving their stingers into my brain.
“I don’t hear anything,” Cole said warily. “Santiago?”
“On it.” He pulled out a second tablet and set it on the counter. “Scanning for ultrasonic emissions.”
Over the noise, I yelled, “What?”
“Four speakers. One in each corner where the wall meets the ceiling. Probably hidden behind the tiles.” Santiago might as well have been whispering. “We don’t know what the hell they’re doing to her, but it can’t be good. Smash them, Cole.”
The droning sound filled my head, stuffed itself in me until my brain felt swollen, ready to burst.
And then … I did.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Adam sat in the lobby of a posh hotel, one of many his father owned thanks to his financial oversight, for over three hours. Decorative glass panels etched with wavy designs separated him from the conference room, giving him a prime view of his father.
Golden head bent, he read from a leather-bound tome brittle with age. He appeared quite at his leisure, a businessman enjoying the solitude prior to his scheduled meeting, immersing himself in a place other than here, a time other than now.
And every second that ticked past set Adam’s jaw grinding.
There was a trick here, a trap, but he couldn’t figure out which of them had been sprung.
Was Adam keeping his father occupied, or was the reverse true?
A quick check of his watch told him more than enough time had passed for Luce and her coterie to complete their mission. Done wasting his time, he shoved to his feet, ready to make his escape.
“Are you familiar with how a dog whistle works?” Ezra asked from the doorway of the conference room.
Brought up short by the question, he answered without considering why his father might have asked. “It emits an ultrasonic frequency in a range that humans can’t hear but some animals, and some charun, can detect.”
“Some animals,” he agreed, “and some charun.”
As his father made it clear he saw little division between beasts native to this world and any other, he didn’t waste breath renewing an old argument.
“What is your point, Father?”
“That just as a dog can be taught to obey unspoken commands, so too can cadre.”
Adam shifted his weight, caught himself, forced his posture to relax. “You can control them?”
“Quite the opposite.” His smile was benevolent, indulgent. “As it happens, the right frequency causes an Otillian to completely lose control of their faculties.” He chuckled. “The phenomenon was initially dismissed due to Famine’s mental instability,
but it has since been proven effective on a secondary subject.”
“Luce.”
“Conquest,” he corrected, “but yes.”
“That’s why you kept me waiting.”
“No, that was to remind you of who I am, who you are, and where your loyalties lie.”
“What have you done?” he rasped, heart thudding against his ribs. “Damn you, what have you done?”
“The next time I request a meeting, perhaps you’ll be punctual, and we can be civilized to each other, avoid all this unnecessary ugliness.”
“Father … ”
“I will help you see her as she truly is, and then we will put her down together, as you should have already done. If you refuse, if you deny me, if you act in any way other than grateful, you will force my hand.”
“You would kill your only son?”
“I am eternal. I can make more children. That I have been content with you thus far is a glaring mistake I face with each rising. Do not tempt me to sully myself in the name of procreation when you are as fine an heir as any I might sire.”
Without dignifying him with a response, Adam turned on his heel and marched out the door, terrified by what awaited him, and uncertain if he was grateful his father released him to discover it.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Metal bit into my wrists and ankles. I swallowed to clear the sour tang in the back of my throat, and chains rattled. Opening my eyes required too much effort. Breathing hurt. Everything hurt. There must be crushed soda cans in better shape than I was right now.
“She’s waking,” Thom said, tone clinical. “I have the tranquilizer ready.”
“Give her a chance,” Maggie pleaded. “Please. I know what happened last time but — ”
Strong hands bracketed my shoulders, the fingers sinking into bruised tracks that ached. “I’ll restrain her.” Miller applied pressure, and I whimpered. “Open your eyes.”
For a second, I didn’t get that he was talking to me. And then I wished I hadn’t grasped the magnitude of his order.
“Can’t.” I winced as my split lip cracked. “Hurts.”
Rise Against: A Foundling novel (The Foundling Series) Page 17
