Raul smirked. “Nice.”
Bob knew Raul was there but finding him would be difficult. Or so Raul hoped.
They went down that cell block, turned a corner, moved passed what looked like guard offices and then an armory. Raul stopped there. A quick inspection confirmed what he suspected. Now it was nothing but a large, elaborate, very empty closet. He motioned to Fahim to follow and slipped into another part of the prison.
As they moved deeper into the complex Brandon’s scent grew stronger and the urge to find him increased, a steady pressure inside Raul’s head. The need to exert himself as Brandon’s protector surrounded him, stronger this time, until he could smell nothing other than Brandon. His scent, his very essence infused Raul’s brain. The need to defend, take back what was his and set Brandon free overwhelmed him like a fire from within.
He dropped the bag and shifted to full werewolf. Somewhere at the edge of his consciousness he was aware of Fahim saying words like, “Slow down, you need to think, get a grip.”
The only thing Raul wanted a grip on were the necks of Ethan and that woman.
Finally, he arrived at the point where Brandon’s scent swirled around him like some tornado he was at the center of while it consumed all the air around him. Raul could practically see the molecules in the air that carried odors. He pressed the heel of one hand to his forehead trying to stave off the pounding in his skull.
He stopped at a door, wooden with thin iron brackets. Not enough iron to stop him. Brandon’s scent seeped through the wood this time mixed with the distinctive odor of blood.
Brandon’s blood.
Raul hurtled his bulk at the door.
◆◆◆
Brandon tried to cringe away from Zoe’s grip, but it was useless. He didn’t even know why he kept trying.
“We need cargo transport and need it now,” Zoe snarled.
She let go of his shoulder and backhanded him. Brandon didn’t have a prayer of avoiding the blow. The woman was wicked fast. Besides he was chained to the chair. One arm had enough length of chain he could reach to the computer tower, other than that he was kept immobile.
He turned his head far enough to give her a glare while he wiped the blood from his split lip on the back of his wrist.
“Working on it,” he grumbled. “You constantly doing that isn’t going to get this done faster.” Reaching for the computer tower he added, “For a scintilla you don’t understand a lot about electricity. Touch me while I’m connected and your whole set up could explode. And us along with it.”
“Quit mouthing off. I don’t care about your fancy education, get to it.”
Brandon had no idea where Bob and Ethan were, but he wished they’d come back. As much of a slug as Ethan was, he did have a considerable calming effect on Zoe—his mother.
“You must’ve been one helluva good lay for my father to touch you,” he muttered under his breath. His father was a snob and not a brave man. He was willing to bet at the time she’d probably terrified him.
“What did you say?”
Brandon grabbed the computer and let a few sparks fly. Zoe backed up a step. “What the fuck! Be careful,” she yelled.
Zoe might’ve been more powerful and fully weaponized, but Brandon was starting to realize he had much more control over the variety of ways he manipulated his own field. “Boom,” he warned. He also knew more about their magic and how electricity worked.
Maybe his adopted mother never wanted him or loved him, but she’d never hurt him either.
Brandon was barely able to concentrate with that woman—birth mother—pacing around behind him. A thud against the door made him jump and yanked his attention from Zoe to the other side of the room. The connection he’d just established with the computer broke. Brandon barely had time to process the noise when the door shattered into a cascade of splinters.
His ears rang from the explosive sound and it took his brain a few seconds to catch up. A werewolf, Brandon immediately recognized Raul, stormed into the room. Werewolves were fast but not as fast as an electrical charge. Zoe spun around and let loose a concentrated wave of power.
Raul was a moving target and that’s what saved him. He narrowly avoided the bolt that slammed into the wall next to where the door used to be. Brandon got a glimpse of Fahim before he transformed into a cloud of smoke. He slithered to the side and reformed as human while Raul circled around behind Zoe.
“Hey, bitch, betcha can’t hit me!” Fahim goaded. Just as she swung toward him and let loose another bolt he vanished.
“You’ll look good as a pile of dust,” Zoe shouted and spun around, following Raul. Fahim materialized to the side and Zoe pivoted toward him, discharging again. They kept going, repeating their actions. Brandon fought against his chains, but it was useless. He couldn’t get loose. All he could do was jump the chair around.
Brandon figured out immediately what Raul and Fahim were up to. Zoe, on the other hand, was easily baited into angry actions. As damaged as his relationship with his father was, Brandon saw that he did have some of his better characteristics, or at the very least he’d blocked Brandon from taking after his mother.
Within minutes Zoe was foaming spittle from the corner of her mouth. Her eyes were wild and her movements becoming jerky. A vein in her neck pulsed and a matching one running up her forehead stood out. She was angry, irrational and throwing electricity everywhere.
Her charges were like cannon fire, gouging chunks of rubble out of the walls. Stone and mortar were flung into the air only to rain back down seconds later. Not everything in the prison was made of brick, there was plenty that could burn. Small fires began popping up in the wake of Zoe’s assault.
Brandon tried moving out of the way, but they were too fast. His chair took a hit from one of Zoe’s blasts, knocking him backward, but fortunately not down. Raul and Fahim were blurs. Zoe, however, was slowing down and it was easy to see her electrical bolts were weakening.
The stench of Raul’s anger permeated the room. Brandon hadn’t expected to sense Raul’s emotions so intensely while he was shifted, but it happened more and more. He was surrounded by those changes in Raul’s scent that came with his off-the-chart emotions. The pitch and intensity of his howls made Brandon see him in a new, frightening light.
Raul would never hurt him; Brandon knew that with all his heart. What he was also just realizing was, Raul could, and would, kill for him.
What was even more horrendous was her bolts sparked an ignition of something inside the walls. The rancid odor of sizzling wire and who knew what else seeped into the room. Little flames began shooting out of cracks in the walls.
Raul howled. It was a haunting, vicious sound that reverberated around the space.
One second Zoe was throwing electrical waves across the room at Fahim. In the next instant she was face down on the floor with Raul perched on her back, fangs dug into her neck. The scene was horrifically magnificent. Blood flowed out from Zoe’s neck. Her clothes were growing dark swatches where Raul’s talons pierced her sides. Her body twitched and jerked for a few minutes. More electricity rolled off her to harmlessly dissipate a foot or so from the source.
Skin, bone and muscle were wrenched away from Zoe when Raul leaned back and stood to his full height. Hovering over Zoe’s body his chest expanded, snout in the air and he howled another long, eerie, terrifying sound.
“C’mon, kid, we’re getting the hell out of here.” Fahim grabbed Brandon’s chains and squeezed until they evaporated into smoke.
Before Brandon could agree or protest, Fahim had wrapped his fingers around Brandon’s wrists and yanked him out of the chair. He heard Ethan screaming Zoe’s name when he and Bob rushed into the room. On the heels of that was the wail of a second werewolf. Brandon had never heard Bob make any such noise, but knew it had to be him. The sound was distinctive and much different from Raul’s voice.
He watched as Bob literally threw Ethan to the side and launched himself at Raul. Brandon jerked away
from Fahim.
“I have to…stay and…” Stay and do what? Brandon had no clue. He certainly wasn’t going to get between two battling werewolves. Even if he wanted to help Zoe, she was long past assistance. He wasn’t sure how he felt about Ethan beyond what cruelty had been leveraged against Brandon.
Brandon stopped Fahim with a tug to his arm. He pointed at the computer equipment. “Those, we need those.”
Bob flipped Raul to the ground. Raul didn’t stay there more than a second. He twisted around, took to all fours and went at Bob. In a blink of an eye, they were on their hind legs, charging each other. Bob swiped a wide gash in Raul’s side, pulling thick fur back with his talons. Raul turned to the side and rammed Bob. He sank his bloodied fangs into Bob’s shoulder. At the same time, he used one leg to snag Bob’s ankle and pull his legs out from under him dropping Bob to the floor. Brandon heard the muscle of Bob’s shoulder rip and a whoosh when blood spurted from what was probably a major artery. Raul pounced, shifting his fangs to the back of Bob’s neck just as he had Zoe.
Fahim shoved Brandon toward the door.
“Go, go!”
He turned into smoke and swirled around the computers seconds before Raul and Bob slammed into the table they sat on, shattering it into kindling.
Brandon stopped just outside the door and stood, staring inside the room. Raul looked like some horror movie monster. Blood dripped off his fangs, his own blood trickled from the wound to his side, already healing. His talons had bits of skin and fur stuck to them.
Raul swiveled on his toes to face Ethan.
Ethan was crying, trying to push himself across the floor and away from Raul. His light-colored pants were covered with urine and feces. He was struggling to breathe, and spit drooled from his lopsided mouth, the result of a head injury from Bob tossing him Brandon guessed.
When Raul took a step toward Ethan, Brandon darted forward, hands held out. “No!”
Raul turned and focused on Brandon, his copper eyes narrowing. Brandon’s heart hammered and he shivered. He’d never seen anything so frightening. His kind, gentle lover, the man who’d vowed to always protect Brandon looked at this moment like a ghoulish demon sent from hell.
Raul snarled.
Brandon shook his head once. “No. Leave him.” He should be terrified beyond rational thought, but he wasn’t. Raul would never hurt him. Brandon believed that to be absolute truth.
What did terrify him was the realization Raul could make Ethan’s death quick and merciful. By stopping him, Ethan would still die, but it would be slow, excruciating. Raul was the werewolf. Brandon was the monster.
“He won’t live,” Fahim said quietly from behind Brandon. “We, however, could spend the rest of our lives in a Mexican prison. They have plenty that aren’t abandoned.”
Brandon turned to look at Fahim. The decision was made for them, however. Ethan crawled to Zoe, his hands pushing through her blood. Brandon had no idea how long a scintilla’s charge lasted after they died. Apparently, however, it did persist since there was a blue haze hanging over Zoe’s body. When Ethan’s fingers touched her blood, sparks flew up. Her body jumped again, and power radiated out and along the path made by pooling blood. Ethan cried out, his limbs twitching, jerking and his body flailing.
Raul jumped away and closer to Brandon, blocking him from seeing more details.
Something inside the wall picked that instant to blow up, sending more concrete and stone raining down. Ethan’s body went still. Nothing moved, not his chest, no muscle twitching—nothing.
“Time to go. Now!” Fahim commanded.
In a few long strides Raul was at Brandon’s side, shoving him farther from the room. Another explosion from somewhere along the row of cellblocks shook the building. Raul was holding his side, staggering. When Brandon tried to help him, he was pushed away.
Raul wasn’t refusing help. He was shoving Brandon closer to Fahim. In one quick move, Fahim jumped between Brandon and Raul and put an arm around both.
“Don’t forget to breathe,” Fahim shouted and the prison shimmered away, engulfed by a cloud so dense Brandon couldn’t see a thing.
Brandon realized it was him that was swallowed up by the creepy fog. Just as that thought formed, he landed on his ass so hard a shockwave rolled up his spine.
“Sorry.” Fahim was brushing himself off. He turned to Raul. “You okay?”
Raul was half man, half werewolf. His side was oozing blood, but it was slowing down and already the wound was beginning to heal. He looked up from where he’d landed—right next to the computer equipment—and nodded. Then he spit blood and other things Brandon didn’t want to think about from his mouth.
“Their trucks are on the other side.” Brandon pointed to the prison.
Fahim nodded, reached down and patted Brandon’s shoulder. “Don’t wander off.” He turned a stern look to Raul. “Either of you. Be right back with a ride.” With that Fahim was a long trail of smoke skimming through the air towards the prison.
Raul leaned on one hand, his other arm still holding his side.
“Will you be okay?” Brandon asked.
Nodding, Raul smiled a bit then hissed in a breath when he shifted closer. “Yeah. A little uncomfortable. Are you hurt?”
“I’m okay.” Brandon held out one hand and shook his head. He hated the hurt that registered on Raul’s face. “Just… gimme space.”
Raul nodded and flopped on his back, staying there until Fahim returned with a beast of a pickup truck.
Fahim helped Raul into the back seat of the pickup. “I found blankets too.”
“Thanks.” Raul stretched on the seat, covered with a blanket.
Fahim jogged around to the driver’s side and got inside the truck. Brandon had already loaded the computer equipment into the front cab and climbed in, settling in the passenger seat. He stared out the window as Fahim got the truck moving and drove, at a high-speed away from the prison.
Chapter 16
They drove far enough away from the old prison that they wouldn’t be hit with any debris before coming to a stop. Raul had no idea what had been ignited, or if Fahim had a hand in any of it, but a series of explosions rocked the already decrepit structure. Steel, brick and who knew what else blew into the air then rained to earth in a very spectacular show. Any evidence they’d left was obliterated. At least he could breathe a mental sigh of relief over that, but what he’d done and the look on Brandon’s face wouldn’t be so easily dealt with.
Raul pushed himself up and leaned on one elbow, gripping his side with his other arm. He coughed before hissing in a harsh, wet breath. “Someone’s going to hear that…or see it…or smell it. We gotta get out of here.”
“What we need to do is get back across the border. We’re in Mexico,” Fahim mumbled. “You’re naked.” He turned to Brandon. “Brandon, you got ID on you?”
“No.” Brandon shook his head. “It’s in our apartment in El Paso.”
“Of course it is,” Fahim sighed. He twisted around and scrutinized Raul. “You’re shivering. A fever is starting.”
“And we’re in a stolen truck,” Raul pointed out. He ignored Fahim mostly because it was something he already knew.
Fahim snorted. “I remember because I stole it.”
“Can’t you…?” Brandon twirled one finger around in the air.
Fahim’s shoulders sagged. “I can, but only one at a time and I need a bit of time, an hour or so, to recoup between trips. Two others and this truck is more than I can carry at one time. Getting you two out of the prison at the same time was a quick and short trip. It pushed the limit of what I can do. And some portions of the border are allegedly equipped with special microwave emitters to prevent vehicles from being transported via jinn. I don’t know where they are or if it’s even true, or if it works. But it’s common knowledge among jinn to avoid trying that route.”
“You got us into Mexico,” Raul said.
“We weren’t in a truck and it was only you and m
e. We’re organic, and compared to most vehicles, small,” Fahim explained. “It’s the metal and engines that are affected. Not blood and bone. Jinn aren’t usually people smugglers—at least not that way—for a reason.”
“We do this the old-fashioned way then,” Brandon said.
“No.” Raul moved so he faced Fahim as best he could. He reached over the seat and put a hand on Fahim’s shoulder. “No. You take Brandon back to the apartment. I’ll start driving. Come back for me.”
“No!” Brandon snapped.
“Not a good plan, friend,” Fahim agreed. He twisted in the seat to look at Raul again. “You’re not looking so good. That wound is from another werewolf and will take a while to heal even while your shifted. You can’t drive as a werewolf.”
“Uh, yeah, I know that,” Raul grumbled.
“Then you also know you’re not going to be able to drive too far without running into a ditch or something,” Fahim said.
“We’re not leaving you,” Brandon said, more quietly this time. “It’s not up for discussion.” He didn’t look at Raul, but out the window as he spoke.
Fahim offered Raul a sympathetic smile and patted his arm. Raul flopped back onto the seat when Fahim put the truck into gear and started driving. He shifted to his werewolf form; he’d heal faster that way. The truth was he didn’t have the energy to argue with one of them, let alone both. He rolled to a more comfortable position that helped shield his eyes from the sun’s glare, let his body relax and tried not to think about the people he’d killed, Brandon, or the fact there was no way to get back home without spending some quality alone time in the desert.
It was hot and Fahim hadn’t stolen a truck with air conditioning. The windows were rolled down and their movement blew a stifling breeze through the windows. Raul dozed on and off—drifted in and out of consciousness—jerking back to the here and now when they turned a sharp corner or hit a bump.
More than once when his eyelids cracked open, he saw Brandon watching him. Maybe it was heat swirling all around him. Or maybe it was the pounding headache that complimented the vicious throbbing of his side, or the fact he was burning up one minute, and freezing the next, but he couldn’t read Brandon. He’d connected with Brandon, understood his moods and tuned in with his emotions since they’d first met. Now however, he was clueless as to what Brandon’s feelings were. In one instance, Brandon appeared concerned and the next time Raul pried his eyes open Brandon’s expression was pure horror.
Scintilla Page 20
