A slow grin rolled to his lips, and he bit back a hysterical laugh. Just a couple of assholes getting busy. If only life were still so simple for him—play a show, toss back drinks, and fuck around. When Leo stampeded into his life, anything simple had fast evacuated the building, leaving him reeling.
Though truth be told, while his life had been easy, there’d been so many empty nights and so many hollow flings. After feeling a gasp of the fullness, the richness that Leo brought … well, it gave him too much to dwell on now.
They continued past the door, creeping as quietly as they could manage. Renn scrutinized the carpet since Danica had pointed the trail out, following the tread that seemed to have been worn into the floor. The marks veered to the right, to a door a few feet away from the end of the corridor.
“Let’s check the room out,” Renn murmured, settling his hand on the knob. He leaned against the door to listen in, but silence echoed back.
He twisted the knob and tugged the door open.
Inside lay a study—several elegant obsidian writing desks with brass lamps stationed on the surface. The moonlight tapered through wide open windows, and tall bookshelves lined the walls on either side, showcasing a formidable library.
Renn stepped a few paces inside, and a frown creased his forehead.
“Fuck, a dead end,” Ky complained behind him. He couldn’t help the stone’s drop in his chest. They’d been so close—he could feel it. And they had a quickly closing window of time to find his sister and the others. Leo, Claude, and Marisa were upstairs dangling themselves in front of dangerous individuals just to buy them the opportunity. His heart thudded harder.
“Before the lot of you go tossing in the towel, I’d like to point out the scuff marks on the hardwood,” Trevor said, slinking past them. Jett entered last, bringing the door shut with a click behind him.
“We might not be known for subtlety and tact, but redcaps aren’t either,” Jett murmured as he crouched to the ground. Renn skimmed the floorboards for more signs of past movement, whether it was a chip in the wood or the shine of worn-down polyurethane.
“Guys, the trail leads to the bookcase,” Liz said, an excited note in her voice.
“That’s some Scooby Doo shit,” Danica said, strolling over beside her to survey the stacks of books. “What do you think, gang? Secret room behind the bookshelf?”
“Look for the odd book out,” Ky said, a similar thrill rising in his voice.
Renn’s heart thudded harder as he strode to the bookcase with them. A hidden room—that could be where the missing fae were being kept. Which meant his sister could be on the opposite side of the wall, waiting to be found.
It could also mean he’d find a bunch of missing fae, but not her.
“I mean, we could look, or we could just start pulling shit off the shelves,” Renn said, his hands moving before he finished the statement. All this anxious energy buzzed through him, threatening to short circuit his brain if he didn’t move, move, move. He tugged one book off the shelf, sending it clattering to the ground and went back for another.
Ky snorted, but the incubus stood beside him trying to same tactic. “Works for me.”
“You could try to prove me wrong about my estimates on your intelligence at least some of the time,” Jett murmured behind him. The siren lingered closer to the door beside Trevor, standing watch.
Renn shook his head, even though a hesitant grin rose to his lips. He kept flipping books to the ground, not giving a damn about the clatter. His hand snagged on one as he pulled, and it didn’t budge. Instead of flying past the shelf and crashing to the floor, the book pivoted sideways.
Renn barely had a second to dodge back before the entire bookcase began to creak and turn. It twisted to the side, offering two avenues to sneak through into the dark room ahead. Renn’s stomach twisted. This could easily be a trap designed to lure them in and keep them there, locked up.
No way they’d find out unless they plunged inside.
He took the first steps into the velvety darkness, the air growing staler here. His footsteps echoed, and the floorboards creaked beneath his tread as he approached. The room was smaller than the last, but a massive metal door stood out on the end. Just the sort of place to keep prisoners.
Ky scampered past him to try the door. He let out a hiss, drawing his hand back. “Assholes coated the knob in platinum.”
“Looks like I’m going to be the one opening the door then,” Liz said, sliding past Ky to try and twist the knob. It didn’t budge. Liz pulled out a bobby pin. “I don’t know why anyone would bother locking the door on their secret room behind a bookcase tucked all the way down here. Anyone who figured out how to find the door in the first place is going to be able to pick a simple lock.”
“God, you’re hot,” Ky purred.
“Probably a timing thing,” Trevor said, ignoring the moon eyes between Ky and Liz as he glanced to the bookcase. “Every passing second heightens the chances of getting caught.”
The lock clicked, and Liz brought the door sweeping open. “After you, Renn,” she said, gesturing with her arms.
He sucked in a sharp breath. Unlike the stale air out here, the moment he stepped inside this room, the scent of antiseptic assaulted him. The air grew cool enough to raise the hairs on his arms, and dim blue lights glowed from every corner of the room, illuminating a space large enough to fit a warehouse. Vats and boilers lined the walls as well as distillers, all connected to some heavy-duty machinery. Based on the size and volume, they didn’t distribute to just a small sampling.
The chances of his sister surviving this for even a short period of time was slim.
He hadn’t gotten a few paces in when his gaze drifted to the back of the room lined with barred cells, as if he strode into a county prison. Each cell was filled with at least five to seven fae, most of them languishing on the ground or leaning against the narrow walls containing them.
Bile rose in Renn’s throat. He’d been out living his life, running from town to town and exploring the world while his sister had been locked away here. While she’d been tortured, gouged, and held prisoner in this tiny, inhumane cell.
For years.
The emotions that flooded through him, the rage, the self-loathing, and the sheer helplessness rocked through him so strong he forgot how to breathe. A tidal wave that fierce didn’t just knock someone down but consumed them.
Then he caught the stares of the three fae working at one of the long tables on the side, weighing powder on their scales and partitioning it into bags. A small, faint-looking angiak, a hulking, sharp barguest, and a gwyllion with a mottled face and misshapen body looked up at him.
Of course Jericho Harrod wouldn’t leave his biggest income source unprotected.
Renn’s fist raised on instinct, and he crouched in preparation to charge. He didn’t bother glancing behind him—his family would back him up.
He charged, his horns leading the way as he crossed the space between them. The trio of fae dropped the bags of powder and veered around the table. The angiak hung back, arms lifted and eyes closed in concentration. The barguest and the gwyllion, on the other hand, raced toward him at top speed, their wicked fangs and sharper claws on clear display. Renn threw himself into the rush, surrendering every remaining thought as he hurtled their way.
He needed to smash into something real bad.
His hooves clopped against the concrete ground as he sailed forward, closer, closer, closer. He brought his horns down, and his fist tightened around the copper knuckles as he prepared to swing.
The barguest stepped in front of him, those claws glinting in the dim light like serrated knives. The creature let out a blast of a yell that caused the room to shake.
Well, there went any attempt at stealth.
The barguest closed the space between them, yet Renn couldn’t stop. He careened headfirst into the beast’s torso, his horns driving in past skin with a squelch. The barguest let out another unearthly scream, and
a second later, those claws raked across his back. Pain followed, the sort of shock that numbed him out and caused his stomach to clench.
Renn didn’t dart away but lashed out with his fist instead. The copper knuckles slammed into the barguest’s bony side, sizzling on impact.
Next to him, the gwyllion extended her arms, but before she could strike down, Ky let out a whoop and landed in the way. A big smile raced across his face as he let his fist fly.
Liz bolted by, Trevor following close at her heels as they headed in the direction of the angiak. Jett let out one of his siren’s calls, reverberating the airwaves around them. The sudden blast of sound caused the barguest to look up for a brief moment. Renn seized the opportunity, slamming in with his fist again. This time, his knuckles thudded against the beast’s stomach.
Before he could pull his hand back, the barguest grabbed him by the wrist and wrenched him up, his feet separating from the ground. Panic swirled through him, but he thrust out with a kick, his shoe slamming straight into the barguest’s chest.
Fuck it, he’d just keep ramming away.
Renn kicked again and again, the heavy thuds of his weight colliding with the man, even though the open wounds on his back screamed. His arm strained like it might pop out of the socket.
The barguest leaned in to snap at his neck with those vicious teeth, and Renn bucked away, trying to get out of the beast’s grip. Danica flicked him in the shoulder as she raced past, heading toward the cells along the back wall. At once, calm flooded through him in a warm, soothing surge—part of the leannan sidhe’s gift of inspiration.
Renn kicked out again, this time leaning to the left heavier. The blow threw the barguest off-kilter, and as the creature tried to settle into place, he yanked his hand back. The barguest’s grip slipped, and Renn’s hooves dropped to the ground again.
Those claws descended again, but this time he launched his copper knuckles up to greet them. The solid surface hit against the chitinous claws with a thunk. Before he could react, Jett slid a knife in the barguest’s gut and sliced him wide open. Blood spilled from the open wound, and the barguest lashed back out again, those claws whizzing an inch from his face. He staggered forward, one swipe, then another, the blood pouring out faster and faster.
Renn dodged back, and Jett slipped out of the way as the barguest teetered and then crashed to the ground. He quick-stepped away from the beast and whipped toward where Ky still fought with the gwyllion. The creature slashed out, her long, tangled hair like a nest of cobwebs and her teeth bared in rage.
He’d earned a couple of slices, but he was adept at dodging, and the gwyllion moved with a sloppy desperation.
Renn caught an opening as the gwyllion crouched, bringing those arms up in an arc. He raced ahead, dropping the crown of his head forward to direct his horns. He didn’t bother to slow down, colliding headfirst into the lanky creature’s thigh. She let out a snarl, but before those claws could swing down on him, Ky’s fist swept up to meet her chin.
Jett slid in from behind, bringing his knife down in a pendulum swing. The dagger plunged into the gwyllion’s back, but before she could whip around to attack Jett, Renn cracked her in the throat with his copper knuckles. The wet thump echoed through the air, and her scream grew garbled as the copper corroded her skin.
Ky’s foot shot out in a kick, knocking the gwyllion to the ground with a mighty crash. The creature’s ribs shuddered a few times with paltry breaths, but she didn’t rise.
“Guys, over here,” Danica called, a barbed wire edge to her voice. Out of anyone, prisoners would affect Danica and Trevor the most.
Renn’s shoulders heaved up and down. He needed to head over there to find out if Belle waited amongst the prisoners, and yet his legs froze in place.
What if she wasn’t there?
What if she was?
His throat tightened.
Jett placed a hand on his shoulder, the heavy weight drawing him to the present. “Go get her.”
The command sent his legs moving, even though he’d left his mind behind. He strode toward the now-opened cells where a few of the prisoners had stumbled from. All the colors and movement in the room faded around him like some distant haze. The sounds muted as his gaze landed on the prisoners, searching, searching.
Desperate fear clutched his throat as he scanned over sickly looking selkies, centaurs, and even a young male asrai who was probably the missing Ashewarren. He stepped closer and closer, zeroing in on the countless pockmarks marring their arms and the vacant expression in their glazed eyes. His stomach gave a hard jerk. His sister couldn’t have survived years of this torture. The stench here grew—a mix of sterilization fluids and rot, and Renn wanted to gag.
He slowed as he neared the cells, scanning the back for a sign, any sign of her. Several of the imprisoned hadn’t budged, still slumped in their cells. His gaze landed on a figure in the middle cell.
She was unmistakably a satyr by the hooves and the horns curling out of her thick black hair that had become gnarled from lack of care. Her body appeared so small, so frail, and she hunched over like she’d become frozen that way. Renn strode to the center cell, his heart lodged in his throat as hope climbed higher and higher and higher.
“Belle.” His sister’s name slipped from his lips as he reached the entrance. She didn’t look up, but then again, she hadn’t moved when the doors swung open either. He dodged past some of the others who peeled themselves off the floor to follow the ones who’d evacuated.
Renn crouched in front of the frail satyr, her skin the same cinnamon shade as his.
She lifted her head to look at him.
The sight socked him in the chest. He’d recognize those eyes anywhere. Once they were wide, eager, absorbing everything with a sharp curiosity. Now, they’d grown dulled and vacant, as if the clever, vibrant girl left the building a long time ago. Yet that was her stubborn nose, so similar to their mother’s, her delicate chin, and the dark splotch of a birthmark on her forearm.
Renn reached forward, almost touching her when he pulled back. “Belle, I’m here,” he whispered, his voice cracking. Relief and sorrow crashed into him strong enough he almost tipped forward. “We’re going to get you out of here.”
She didn’t respond, just stared at him with those dull eyes, and his heart broke.
So many years lost.
So many years of being chained to this nightmarish operation.
Those same pockmarks lined her arms, a constellation of them so dense he could barely see patches of smooth skin. Fifteen years’ worth of drawing from her for their drug operation. His arms shook with a rage he could barely contain. Her shallow breaths cycled through on automatic, as if she’d become a shell in her own body, her mind fractured long ago.
“How did this even happen?” Renn said out loud.
One of the selkies pushing himself from the ground stopped and looked his way. “Families bartered us…” he murmured. “If they wanted in on the product, they needed to offer up collateral.”
Cold rushed through him as if he’d stepped into a lake and sank like a stone. His jaw opened and shut again. No words could explain the horror that gnarled his insides at knowing his own family had offered up Belle.
No wonder none of them helped him search for her. Because they were the ones who gave her up in the first place.
Renn rested his hand on her knee at last.
She tilted her head and looked into his eyes, but she still hadn’t said a word yet.
“If you’re waiting for her to talk, you’ll be waiting a while,” the selkie muttered, his tone acidic. “They broke her a long time ago.”
Renn sucked in a sharp breath. Part of him had known the moment he laid eyes on Belle. The moment they’d discovered what had been done to these fae for years. He’d known deep down that even if he found his sister, he wouldn’t be getting his Belle back.
The marching of footsteps sounded from beyond this room, followed by distant shouts. Renn rose from his cro
uch and stalked over to where the others gathered. Ky and Trevor already started inching closer to the door, their weapons raised.
The door flung open.
Leo Kincaid stumbled in with platinum ropes searing into his torso as two hulking redcaps pushed him forward. Leo’s eyes met his, a flash of terror in his gaze that sank deep into his bones.
Renn’s throat tightened.
They were fucked.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Leo Kincaid wasn’t the praying type.
And yet, as the platinum rope bit in past his clothing, causing his skin to sear, he sent silent offerings to any being that would listen. Claude had been forced to join the march downstairs, and his former friend kept his gaze firmly in the opposite direction.
His throat constricted, but he didn’t dare say a word. Marisa waited up there, and she had a chance to get out of this mess in one piece. If the plan fell through, if all of this disintegrated like a body in acid, then he’d at least take solace in the knowledge that his sister was safe. She would always be worth protecting.
They headed down an achingly long corridor, his legs forgetting how to work from the sheer amount of pain short-circuiting his brain. His teeth numbed from the searing pressure of the platinum ropes around his torso.
The signs had been there with Claude for a long time, but not only had Leo gotten distracted—he’d also gotten complacent. He’d been fighting this battle alone for so long that he’d found comfort in believing others might feel the same way he did—that they’d behave with honor when the tough decisions arrived.
The crew from Discord’s Desire were the only folks he’d met who displayed that sort of loyalty.
He hoped and prayed Natalia was on the same page. Otherwise, he’d tossed his last chance at salvation into the abyss.
“Come on, Leo,” Jericho murmured from behind him. The voice burned into him worse than the platinum, a reminder of just how much of a misstep he’d made. “Time to get you to your new residence. I’m sure you’ll find your cellmates friendly.”
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