Tempting Ballad

by Katherine McIntyre

  They entered a room to the left, and everyone in the entourage came to a grinding halt. A bookshelf on the opposite side of the room had turned to the side, revealing a secret room. Books of every shape and size littered the floor.

  “Who’s been in here?” Hollins’ voice grew sharp.

  Leo’s heartbeat thundered. They were going to walk right in on Renn and the others, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to stop them.

  Jericho strode past, glancing his way as he went. Made sense the guy would be suspicious—after all, Leo had been the one who arrived with a master plan to take down their operation.

  “Send him in first,” Jericho ordered, standing by a large metal door in the secret side room.

  The redcaps behind him grunted and pushed him ahead.

  Leo almost tripped over his feet, but he focused, gritting his teeth as if the effort might staunch the pain. His nerves screamed, but he remained silent. He wouldn’t give any of them, especially not Claude, the satisfaction of seeing him falter.

  The door creaked open, and he stumbled through, followed by the redcaps. The moment he entered, his gaze landed on the gorgeous satyr who’d been on his mind ever since they separated.

  Renn stood on the opposite end of the room along with the rest of the band and at least a dozen or so prisoners they’d freed from the cells behind them. With the hunched, frail look to the lot, they couldn’t be anything else.

  “What have we here?” Jericho’s voice boomed.

  Leo bit back an internal curse. Any minute, the man would call in his backup, and they’d be outnumbered. He’d sentenced them all with his foolish plan and far-reaching dreams.

  The choking despair had already taken root, blackened tendrils that fast spread to poison his heart. Leo closed his eyes, standing perfectly still. The band of platinum around him seared into his skin but with the pristine pain came clarity.

  He closed his eyes and hoped.

  For a better future.

  For atrocities like this to end.

  For faith—that he could still believe in others despite the betrayals.

  A scream sounded from down the hall, echoing from upstairs. Another shout followed, and another, and another. Some shrill, some hoarse, but all of them containing a note of abject horror. Mass chaos began to unfold, from the screams to the shuffles of movement. The redcaps behind him jerked in response, alerted to the startling sounds.

  Leo kept his eyes closed, his heart thumping even harder.

  Please, let it be that.

  Footsteps shuffled from behind him as several of their entourage marched to the door to see what the ruckus was. Phones started buzzing throughout the room, including his own. A slow smile rolled to Leo’s lips. Only one thing could’ve caused this much controversy and this much widespread alarm.

  One thing he’d been planning for a very, very long time.

  “What’s going on up there?” Jericho’s sharp voice echoed through the air.

  “Boss,” Hollins sounded behind them. The note of horror in his voice was telling. “Did you see the news? The alert’s spreading everywhere.”

  Leo opened his eyes, not bothering to hide his grin. Natalia had come through with her task.

  “The Seelie King is dead,” Leo said, his voice cutting through the hushed quiet that spread through the room. This had been his plan for too many years to count, and he could barely believe they’d executed it.

  All it took was one case of regicide to rock the entire system—Seelie and Unseelie alike. The Accords were broken, the hunters were launching their attacks, and one of their Courts lost its leader. If anything could destroy the fae hierarchy, this would. Amid the raid on the Harrods, he’d diverted his forces in that direction, sending Natalia and her crew out in the hopes the rebel hunters could be trusted.

  Turned out, at least this time, he’d placed his faith in the right person. Jaws dropped, and every single person looked his way. Leo held Renn’s gaze—they wouldn’t get another chance like this.

  “Anyone want to escape?” Renn called, projecting his voice. “All you have to do is knock out these guys, and we’re ditching this joint. I’d recommend giving Jericho Harrod an especially warm welcome.”

  His words were the spark to flash paper needed.

  The prisoners surged forward, most of them containing a desperate, manic look in their eyes he recognized. They’d been held and tortured for so long here that they didn’t care if they lived or died.

  Hollins raced deeper into the room, almost tripping over one of the bodies scattered on the floor. There’d already been a scuffle upon arrival. Jericho marched up past him, but the redcaps lurched behind.

  Movement snagged his gaze as he caught Claude striding the opposite way, heading for the door they’d entered through. His gut clenched, and every ounce of him wanted to run after the selkie. Part of him wanted payback for the betrayal, as if any number of blows might deliver recompense. As if Claude could offer an answer that would settle in his gut like something other than acid. Yet facing the man he’d once considered a brother was too damn tragic.

  Claude’s gaze landed on him, and the selkie’s lips thinned as they pressed tight together. The man dragged his stare away and continued booking for the door.

  Leo couldn’t find it in his heart to stop him—not when there were more important things here and now.

  Leo gritted his teeth. He’d been slowly shifting to loosen the cords, but he just needed a second away from them to get out of these ropes.

  The chance hurtled his way at top speed.

  Renn charged through the crowd, racing past everyone else toward him. The satyr’s horns pointed forward, and his hooves slammed against the concrete floor with a resounding echo.

  Closer. Closer.

  Renn was mere feet away, and the redcap guards brushed past Leo in readiness.

  Leo grabbed the platinum cords, wincing as his palms burned, and he yanked them up and over. Renn collided with the first of the redcaps, spearing into him with his horns. Leo tossed the cords to the ground and sucked in a ragged breath to collect himself. His arms stretched out, freed, and his hand balled into a fist. He didn’t bother pausing to aim, just felt the hulking presence of the second redcap guard and swung.

  His knuckles connected with hard muscle as he punched the redcap square in the chest. The man barely blinked at the affront—these assholes were built like athletes on steroids. Leo didn’t hesitate, bringing the other fist swinging around. This time, he aimed for the gut. The redcap reached out to grab his arm, but instead of landing the punch, Leo sank into the swing to pivot out of the way.

  Renn’s shoulders rose and fell, blood splattering the fancy tux he wore. A feral grin rose to his face as the satyr dove into the brawl. A matching grin rose to his own face. They were outnumbered in this place and their plans had sailed straight to hell. However, not only had Natalia pulled through, but Renn and the others fought by his side. He’d keep swinging, and he’d keep hoping until he drew his final breath.

  The redcap swung, his meaty fist zooming into view quick.

  The blow barreled right into the scorched area that still burned from the platinum cords. Leo’s cells revolted from the pain, but he staggered back, lowering to a crouch as he prepared to dive in again. The redcap might be massive, but so was he—and he hadn’t spent the hours at the gym for vanity. Leo lunged forward in his crouch, reaching out for the redcap’s waist. The second his hands dropped to the man’s hips, he pushed up, using the force to hurl him forward.

  The redcap landed on his feet, but he stumbled a few paces. Leo took ruthless advantage. He whipped his leg out in a kick, his foot slamming square into the man’s stomach. Already off-kilter, the blow sent the redcap tumbling to the ground.

  A fight like this, he couldn’t waste a second.

  Leo leapt onto the man before he could rise to his feet, crashing down with the brunt of his weight. He pinned the redcap and began slinging punches. His fists rammed into
the man’s jaw, cheek, and one on the nose, enough that the redcap coughed up blood. His bones reverberated with each blow. The redcap bucked underneath him, but Leo refused to budge. The one advantage he possessed was speed, which meant if he didn’t seize the opportunity, he’d end up dead.

  The redcap jammed his knee up, hard enough to throw Leo off his center of gravity. He abandoned his post at once, jumping back and rising to a crouch. Leo balled his hands into fists at the ready. Renn let out a choked sound from a few feet away. The satyr keeled over as the redcap barreled punches into his gut.

  Leo’s heart lunged, but his mind remained as steady as the horizon line.

  The moment the redcap he was facing pushed up to his feet, Leo surged in. He drove his fist upward in a swift uppercut. His knuckles slammed underneath the man’s jaw with enough force to reverberate down his arm.

  The redcap let out a low moan and staggered back, clutching at his jaw. He teetered on his feet for a moment before his eyes rolled back.

  The redcap came crashing to the ground.

  Leo closed the distance on the other redcap preoccupied with punching the daylights out of Renn. His fist tightened, and he brought it down in a smooth arc. With an audible crack, his punch drove right into the big bastard’s spine. If that didn’t get his attention, nothing would.

  The redcap let out a low grunt and stopped slinging at Renn. He turned around to face Leo, his brows drawn together and an ugly look wrinkling his face.

  The redcap’s fist hurtled his way, too fast to dodge. The blow slammed into his shoulder, leaving a throbbing ache.

  Leo crouched, ready to retaliate when he caught sight of Renn’s fist entering the fray. The satyr swung with his copper knuckles, and the strike landed, right in the jaw.

  Leo didn’t wait for an opening. He thrust his knee up, catching the redcap in the gut.

  The man let out a low growl, and those meaty fists swung. With the attacks coming from both sides, he fell victim to the temporary confusion.

  At least, until the big bastard picked his target.

  The man slammed into him like an Everlast bag, and his feet separated from the ground as he flew back. The breath hissed from his chest as his feet dropped back onto the ground, hard enough to rock all the way up his shins.

  “Come on, asshole,” Renn taunted the redcap. “I thought I was the one getting the love taps.”

  Except out of the two targets, Leo was the bigger threat. The redcap didn’t waste time addressing Renn. Instead, the man whipped his thick leg around in a kick.

  Leo had managed to right himself enough to catch this one, even though the strike against his palms stung. He gripped down and held on tight.

  The redcap tried to yank his leg back, but Leo clutched it harder.

  His gaze met Renn’s over the big bastard’s shoulder. The copper knife glinted in Renn’s other hand, but the redcap never had the chance to see it. The satyr brought the edge sliding right along the redcap’s throat. A gurgle came from his mouth, followed by the sizzling of flesh as the copper seared into his skin. Leo’s own scorch marks ached in response.

  Blood gushed from the redcap’s throat, and he began to pitch forward. Leo stepped out of the way to let the body slam to the floor. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Jericho sneaking toward the door.

  No fucking way.

  He’d get more help, and then they’d be sentenced.

  They couldn’t navigate through the manor with a bevy of beleaguered prisoners who could barely walk let alone fight.

  Leo reached out with his innate abilities, channeling every last ounce of energy into summoning the earth. Jericho soared forward, not paying attention to anything but the open door ahead of him. Leo’s calves tensed as he burst into a sprint. All he needed was a few seconds. He shoved all of the energy he’d gathered out.

  The ground wrinkled in front of Jericho, and as he sprinted forward, his ankle caught with the dip. Jericho went careening to the ground.

  Leo raced past him to slam the door shut. He turned to face the rest of the room. “Anyone want a piece of the man who kept you caged here?”

  He didn’t need to ask twice.

  Before Jericho could push himself up, the prisoners surged forward, at least six of them coherent enough to fight. Renn let out a loud whoop and raced to join them, his blades flashing. A deep, dark rage blazed in the satyr’s eyes, one he understood far too well. Leo stationed himself at the door, not budging an inch. The man wasn’t going to escape.

  Jericho Harrod might be a massive redcap, but he’d never dealt with the onslaught of those brought to the brink of desperation after being tortured and caged for years.

  Leo glanced away.

  Jericho’s howls gargled through the air as talons and hooves scored deep, and scraps of wet flesh slapped to the ground. The moment Leo looked back in the direction of the Harrod patriarch, he could barely see the man amidst the prisoners piled overtop him. Renn plunged in the thick of the fray, his mouth grim as he delivered his retribution on the man who’d stolen his sister away.

  Within mere minutes, Jericho Harrod was dead.

  The prisoners cleared away, but the mottled pile of flesh they stepped from barely resembled the arrogant man they’d destroyed.

  Renn jogged up to him, wiping the blackened blood from his blade onto his pants. He placed a hand on Leo’s arm as if to steady himself. “Where do we go next?” The satyr’s touch grounded him like nothing else.

  His heart stutter-started, and he sucked in a deep breath, clearing his mind. He scanned the room where Kieran and the others were finishing off with the hobgoblins. Many of the prisoners hung back, some clinging to their cells.

  “Where’s your sister?” he asked. “Or Stefan? Did you find either of them?”

  Renn’s gaze darkened, but he nodded. “Yeah, I found her.”

  “We need to rally everyone and evacuate. There isn’t a moment to waste,” Leo said, loud enough that his voice carried. A few glances shot his way, but already he marched toward the masses, ready to gather them together for evacuation.

  Kieran wrung out his fist and came bounding over, his eyes alight. “Time to ditch this joint?”

  “Jericho might be dead, but others escaped, which means reinforcements will be on their way,” Leo murmured. “We needed to get everyone out five minutes ago.”

  “Shit,” Kieran swore.

  Liz stepped beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “What’s going on?”

  “Everyone, rally,” Kieran called, his voice booming through the warehouse like he stood onstage, hooked up to a sound system. “Head to the door, now.” He looked to Leo, lowering his voice. “Lead the way.”

  Leo nodded and took the first steps toward the door. His gaze skimmed the crowd for Renn who’d gone back to help his sister out. Resolve twisted in his gut. They needed to make it out of here.

  He got feet away from the door when footsteps pounded from past the secret chamber.

  How had the guards arrived so quickly?

  He stopped in mid-stride and placed a hand up. “Careful, someone’s coming.” From behind him, squeals and scuffs sounded on the concrete as everyone came to a halt.

  He crouched, his hands balling into fists at the ready even though his shoulders still heaved from the scrap mere minutes ago. The moment their enemies entered, he’d begin swinging.

  Their long shadows appeared first, and then two figures stepped in through the door.

  Lenore Saranais and Leticia Ashewarren.

  The message he’d passed Lenore when he’d run into her earlier had made its way to the Ashewarrens. They’d come through on their part in this. His heart soared.

  “We got your message, Kincaid,” Leticia said, gripping the side of the doorway. “Let’s get a move on. We found a secret way out.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Renn raced down the corridor at top speed, gripping tight to Belle’s hand.

  His hummingbird heart raced along with them, an
d he couldn’t help but stare at Leo in admiration.

  The man had singlehandedly orchestrated a distraction, an extraction, and managed to murder the Seelie King, for kicks. He’d been wondering where his yaksha lover had sent their new friend Natalia and her hunter squad, but the question seemed answered when the news about the King landed. Impressed didn’t even cover the complicated feelings tangled in his chest right now.

  The lower level stretched farther than he’d seen earlier when they’d traipsed down here. Along the way, he caught a glimpse of one or two more additions to their crew, all asrai he assumed to be Ashewarrens. Renn’s back ached, his open cuts dripped, and his body felt like one massive bruise, but he continued to run through the corridor, keeping a close hold on Belle.

  His sister ran along with him, stumbling every few paces since her legs were in a state of atrophy. The amount of pinpricks and marks he caught along her arms and legs made him want to retch. She’d been poked and prodded to the point he almost hadn’t recognized the gaunt girl in place of the vivacious sister he’d once known.

  He should’ve found her sooner. He should’ve never rested until she was found. After all, his own parents sold her in the first place.

  His heart hurt, but all he could do was keep running forward. Living in regrets wouldn’t do him any good.

  Maybe that was what he’d needed to learn all those years ago.

  Trev and Danica raced behind them, close on their heels, and Liz and Kieran had inched their way closer and closer to the front of the pack. Jett continued to weave back and forth before him, the siren a blur of constant motion. Renn raced through these halls with his family—every single person who mattered to him, whether they were blood or not.

  They passed the stairwell they’d entered from, and the rattle of feet through the halls above them jolted him with more adrenaline. Jericho’s backups were on their way.

  If they caught up with them, they’d never get out of here alive.

  Leo continued leading the charge through the opposite end of the corridor, racing neck and neck with the kelpie and Leticia Ashewarren. They veered to the left at another intersecting corridor, and one by one, their entire makeshift army raced through. The prisoners were shaky on their feet, and a lot of them lagged behind, but everyone else staggered their pace to match the ragged fae or offered an arm to help boost them along.