A Touch of Death

by J. J. Dean

  He's out of the door and slamming it shut securely after him, blocking any attempts for me to question him and leaving me no choice but to trust him. I'm locked in the back of a truck after running away and then being found after a poor attempt of trying to keep my guys safe, and I'm going to be taken back to the hell I swore I'd never return to. I'm up shit’s creek without a paddle, so I have nothing else to lose by trusting the stranger. Quinn Savan. Why does that name sound so familiar to me? It's like I already knew it, but the memory has been buried deep within the recesses of my brain. It feels familiar, but for the life of me, I can't work out where I could have possibly encountered the name before.

  The truck starts, and the jolt of its movement shakes me out of my pondering, and I'm forced to think about the torture that awaits me. I know I've suffered worse, but I shouldn't have been so eager to allow myself to be captured after swearing I'd never be captured again. Spencer's safety was paramount to mine, however. Hopefully the note I left him will find the others, and they'll understand why it wasn’t worth the energy to fight. I was surrounded with a downed mage, and a psychopathic human whose life mission is to beat me within an inch of my life when I don’t cooperate was already upon us. Fighting wouldn't have done one bit of good.

  Riding to my dungeon takes long enough for my ass to fall asleep against the metal bench, and my wrists begin to ache painfully with the chafing of the metal bound around my bare wrists. The skin is red and raw under the warm metal, and I hiss out a breath of pain when the truck jolts hard enough that I'm forced to brace myself on the bench, causing the cuffs to pinch tighter around my wrists.

  I lose track of time as we journey to the facility that homed me for five long, miserable years. There's no light in the back of the truck, so tracking the time by the sun isn't an option. The time just seems to drag by at a snail's pace. Not that I'm in any rush to arrive at a faster pace, but not knowing the time of day or how close we already are is sending my anxiety into overdrive.

  What feels like hours later, the truck begins to slow, halting the bumpy drive to wherever the facility is located. The truck comes to a sudden halt, jostling me in my seat. My head almost collides with the metal frame of the ridiculous vehicle, but I somehow manage to balance myself enough to prevent another injury.

  I can hear muffled voices just outside of the truck, not loud enough for my ears to decipher what's being said, but I can definitely tell that they're both male voices. Not a moment later, the back doors fly open, and my eyes collide with Quinn's. The purple of his irises looks deeper, darker than before, but my eyebrows furrow at the clear warning held within them. What is he warning me about?

  "Come on," he says, motioning me towards where he stands, his voice emotionless. His eyes dart to the side and back to me in quick succession. He makes the motion twice more, and I realise he's warning me that there's someone else on the outside of the truck. I offer him a subtle nod and make my way over to him, letting him pull me out of the truck with no fuss.

  Quinn settles me on my feet, his hands gentle though he looks to be a little rough with me. I turn slightly to see who I was warned about, and my breath leaves me in a gust of air when I see the Boss. The cruel psychopath that relished my cries of pain, that favoured me to test their latest weaponry on. The bitch that shot my father and sister right in front of me.

  June Gates.

  Doctor June Gates, unless you want to be on the receiving end of a shot to the heart. I've seen her shoot mercenaries for less than forgetting to address her by her title. She's a weapons grade lunatic. Her deranged mind knows no bounds, as she's proven over the last five years.

  "Welcome home, Novia. I sure hope you enjoyed your brief vacation. It'll be the last you ever have." The crazy bitch smiles at me like we're the best of friends and she's welcoming me home with the warmth of someone who's missed me.

  The smile drops a second later, all traces of the inviting facade nothing but a brief memory. Her eyes harden, that crazed gleam that I'm all too familiar with growing until it overtakes her entire gaze. How she manages to hide that much of an unhinged look so easily has unease prickling under my skin. Her mouth purses, and she steps closer to me, her black pumps crunching over the gravel, and her white lab coat fluttering in the wind as she walks. With a voice that chills me to the very bone, she says, "We won't be making mistakes this second time around. I sincerely hope you enjoy these last moments of breathing the fresh air around you. I hope you enjoy the scenery. They'll be the last pleasant things you see and enjoy for the remainder of your existence. You're going to learn that actions have consequences. And you're going to learn that lesson real damn fast."

  She backs away abruptly and gives me a red-lipped grin that's too wide to be believable. Her teeth gleam in the light, her eyes sparking one last crazed look before she shuts her psycho down. She looks like a normal functioning member of society in a matter of one blink. It's unsettling, to say the least. Especially knowing what she's capable of.

  "You," she says, nodding her head at Quinn behind me. "See that she's locked away securely. The last man who was sanctioned to keep an eye on her managed to lose her. He's dead. He suffered greatly. Just so you're fully aware of your consequences should she disappear a second time."

  She talks like she's discussing the weather and not someone's life like it's the most natural thing in the world. My body shudders. I may not be afraid of Davis anymore, but this whack job still instills a healthy dose of caution and fear. As messed up as it is to admit, she has earned it. I've seen what she's capable of, been on the receiving end myself. It would be monumentally stupid not to have even an ounce of fear for Dr. June Gates, even though she’s human.

  Dr. Gates turns on her heel and walks into the facility, Davis close on her trail. The moment they're within the confines of the building, there's a warm hand on my lower spine, urging me forward. Quinn stands close to my back, the feel of his warmth oddly comforting.

  I feel him press into my back, and his head lowers slightly until he's at a distance I can hear him from. In a near whisper, he tells me, "I'm supposed to tranq you, but I'd prefer not to. How long does your little sleeper trick work for, Dusty?"

  Sleeper trick? Oh..

  Whispering back, I say, "Depends on how long I need my target to stay unconscious for. Why?"

  "Can you use it on yourself?" he asks, sounding a little more urgent.

  I nod subtly.

  "When I tell you to, I need you to dust yourself. Make it a high dose, Dusty. I need you conscious in about eight hours, and you’re better off unconscious until then." He moves away as soon as the words leave him. He leads me to the facility, and just before we reach the door, there's a pricking sensation in my neck. In an almost inaudible whisper, he says, "Now."

  Quicker than I have before, my palm fills with a ball of dust that I know will keep me under for just less than eight hours. I raise my hand as if to scratch at my nose, my cuffed wrists bringing the other hand with it. It works in my favour, my empty hand blocking the gold dust from any prying eyes

  The moment my hand is close enough to my face, I inhale deeply, taking in the dust that will render me unconscious in moments. Quietly, I mumble, "You better catch me."

  Before the lights dim and vanish entirely, I hear him reply. "I've got you, Novia."

  Chapter 31

  Spencer

  I storm through the front door with my chest heaving from how fucking fast I ran from where I was left lying on the goddamned floor of the forest, dazed and sluggish. The first thing I noticed was Novia missing. She'd been right by my side, but when my eyes opened, and I could finally see straight, I found myself alone in the forest.

  The note Novia wrote me is clutched in my hand while my heart tries to crash its way through my chest. My mind is running a million miles a minute, but the most prominent thought that's highlighted like a figure standing under a streetlight in the dark is this: They have Novia.

  She's been taken, and I know deep within me
that those that took her are the very same bastards that she was running from the day we found her. And they have her now.

  The door slams against the wall so hard that the paint chips and dust falls from the crack I've left. It's the least of my worries. The sound startles Ezra from where he's lounging on the couch, bright red orbs of power appearing in his hands before he knows it's me. They disappear in an instant when his eyes meet mine, but he's out of his chair and standing in front of me within seconds when he sees the absolute panic that's plastered all over my face.

  "What? What is it?" he asks warily.

  Nix comes from the hallway, his steps slowing when he sees me. His eyebrows draw down in confusion, and I know the next question that's seconds away from leaving his mouth.

  "Where's Novia, Spence?" He sounds eerily calm, but his eyes flash yellow, the only indication that his animals are close to the surface, predominantly his wolf. Shit.

  "She's gone. They took her. After all she went through to keep us and her safe, they still found her," Zayn says from right behind me, his voice strained with worry and panic. Where the hell was he if not in the house already? "Phoenix suggested I take a little walk to regain my senses after I woke up from my Novia-induced sleep. But that's of no matter. Novia has been taken."

  It's like watching Ezra and Nix's reactions in slow motion. Ezra's hands dart into his hair, tugging it tightly with suddenly frantic eyes. Nix... well, Nix looks like he's a second away from shifting right there in the damn living room.

  "What does the note say?" Zayn asks, coming to stand next to me. With shaking hands and the inability to speak when guilt and dread begin to choke me, I hand him the crumpled note that I had clenched in my fist. He smooths it out and reads the words out loud for the others. "I'm not running, I promise. Just got held up. I'll be back soon. Don't do anything stupid. Yours if you'll have me, Novia."

  "Did she think we'd assume she ran again?" Ezra asks, annoyance lacing his words.

  "That first part was for me. She promised me she wouldn't run again," Nix explains. "She was taken, but that note makes me think she went willingly. But why?"

  That's when I find my voice, the guilt dragging me down with sharp claws. "Because I was there. She wouldn't risk us. It's why she ran away to begin with. I was shot with a tranquiliser dart that was meant for Novia. I pushed her out of the way before it could hit her, and it got me instead. I have no idea why I wasn't taken too. I was easy enough to capture.."

  I leave my sentence to hang between us all. It's been one of the thoughts that plagued me as I ran home as fast as my legs could carry me. Why wasn't I taken, too? Why did they only take Novia and leave me on the ground to wake up? Why the fuck did they let her leave me a note?

  "Glamour," Zayn says like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

  "What?" I ask, turning to face him.

  With patience I'm sure he isn't feeling based on the tightening of his mouth and the way his eyes are flickering between green and black, he says, "She glamoured you. She did it when Davis found her the first time, so it only makes sense that she did it again to keep you hidden. If our theory is correct, and they're accumulating more Naturals than fae, then you surely would have been taken with her. It makes no sense to leave you behind, a Natural they could use, and with a note written from their captive. She used her glamour to assure you were kept hidden, so they couldn't take you too."

  "But why leave a note? Who in their right mind would let her leave a note?" Ezra asks, pacing the living room while his knuckles turn white from the strength of his clenched fists. Nix is silent, staring at nothing at all while he tries to keep his breathing even. His eyes have turned a solid yellow, but he snaps them closed, fighting for control.

  We all stay silent while we think it over. Ezra is right, no one in their right mind would let the person they're kidnapping leave a note for us to find. They especially wouldn't fold it neatly and tuck it into my hand like they're not kidnapping someone. Unless it's someone insanely stupid who has zero knowledge on how abducting someone is supposed to go. But if it's Davis and his merry band of dickwads who've taken her, they'd know better. Right?

  Unless...

  "Could someone be helping her?" I ask slowly, thinking it over. If someone was on her side, that would make more sense than anything else. Someone on her side would let her leave a note for us to find.

  Like a sudden thought comes to him, snapping him out of his struggle with his animals, Nix says, "The tracker. How did she disable it? It was orange when we pulled it out of her arm. I've seen enough tech to know that means the device was disabled. How? How did she know to do that? Or how to disable it at all?"

  "So you think someone is helping her, too?" I ask, my eyes finding him already watching me.

  "Makes sense. But who?" he replies.

  "That doesn't matter right now. What matters is how the fuck we're going to get her back. How are we going to get into that building, the very building we've been watching for over three years without any success at breaching it before? The very building which our fae has likely been taken to?" Ezra growls, his voice growing louder and louder the more he talks. I can't say I blame him. The anxiety deep in my chest is clawing so hard that it almost feels like a physical sensation.

  "He has a point, guys. We watched that fucking building for years and never found a way in that wouldn't get us caught. How are we going to do that now? Six teams were recruited before us, and not a single one of them has been seen since. How do we get in and get Novia out without being killed in the damn process?"

  They all look thoughtful, even with their features twisted in worry. There's a beat of silence while Ezra sits on the couch without making a sound. Nix leans against the island counter, looking far more troubled than any one of us. It makes sense. He's just lost the woman he mated not even twenty-four hours before.

  The swift pang of jealousy is overpowered by my anxiety for Novia. We know what happened last time she was there, and I'm not naïve enough to believe things will be any better this time around. Given that she made her great escape once, those assholes won't let it happen again. There's a sinking feeling in my gut telling me those bastards won’t hesitate to make Novia pay for running away, too. We need to get her the fuck out of there.

  "We're going get her. I don't care what it takes. She's suffered enough. I'm not going to let her suffer some more," I tell the room, my resolve hardened.

  "Of course we're going after her, Spence. We just need a solid plan to work with, or our efforts will be completely wasted," Nix replies, readily agreeing and making a damn good point as he does.

  I nod in return, and just as I open my mouth to start throwing ideas at them, Zayn calmly says, "We'll need help. We won't be able to do this alone."

  "Makes sense, but who do we ask?" I question. "I mean, I know a few guys from training I could ask."

  "I've got people who owe me a few favours. I'm sure they'll help," Nix supplies.

  "I'm not short of a few contacts. I'll get in touch with them," Ezra chimes in, hands steepled in front of him while his elbows balance on his bobbing knees.

  "Alright. I know a great deal of people I'm sure will lend a hand too. It comes in handy being alive for so long and helping a good deal amount of people on the way." Zayn nods, determination seeping into his eyes. He walks to his satchel to retrieve his cell and then sits besides Ezra, who's already pulled up an iPad out of fuck knows where. They both dive into looking for contacts and anyone we can call in a favour from. I follow in their actions, quickly moving to my room to gather my cell and contacts book before striding back into the living room and dropping to the armchair.

  Nix is missing, and Zayn answers the questions that's on the tip of my tongue. "He needs to do something productive, so I suggested he return to where you and Novia were ambushed. He needs to shift, so he's going to track Novia's scent and see if he can catch any leads before returning to help us gather the assistance we’ll need."

  I nod before
diving into my contacts book. It's some time later when Nix returns and joins us, dropping his own devices and scraps of papers with several numbers on them onto the coffee table between us.

  We spend the next several hours calling everyone we know, anyone who will help. By the time we exhaust every avenue, there's a thudding at my temples, my eyes sting, and the worry for our little fae has notched up to unbearable levels. What if we don't get her out in time? What if those we've contacted turn their backs on us? What will we do then?

  "We can't afford to think that way. It's by sheer willpower that I haven't allowed myself to fall back into the depths of my monster again. We'll get her back, Spencer. I have to believe that. I didn't even have the opportunity to apologise to her. I won't let the last memory I have of her be her look of fear while I trapped her in a hotel bathroom." Zayn's eyes slowly turn to black, the colour seeping out of his eyes the more he talks.

  Ezra slaps a hand on his back, bringing him back instantly. With more conviction than I've ever heard from him before, he says, "We'll get her back."

  ***

  I've found myself sitting in Novia's room while we do nothing but wait. My body is practically vibrating with the urge to move, and the pressing need to find the woman who's snuck under my skin is damn near suffocating. I swore I'd never let anyone in after the guys. And the little devil just slipped her way right into my damn chest with very little effort in such a stupidly small amount of time.

  The mating bond that I've been feeling since she disappeared is beginning to physically hurt. My chest feels as though there's a stack of weights piled on top of it, pushing down until I can barely catch my breath. Yeah, she's definitely under my skin.

  She became a part of our small team the moment we found her at the riverbank. She was a part of our chosen family as soon as we brought her home and took her in. She's our mate, and I have no fucking clue what I'll do if we don't get her back.