From Burning Ashes (Collector Series #4)

by Stacey Marie Brown

That would make sense. The girls he used as fighters had to train and keep in shape enough to attract a crowd.

  “The rim along the roof looks sturdy enough.” Ryker kept low and followed the edge to the other side. I copied his movements.

  When we finally reached the far side near the main building, I exhaled. Heights didn’t scare me, but falling from them did.

  We gazed at the building across from us. The top had windows, which gave us a view into the structure. The space reminded me of a high-security prison. The entire middle was open all the way to the bottom, metal tables and chairs filled the lowest level with what looked like an eating area. Circling this main area were levels and levels of jail cells.

  I stepped forward, making out human forms pushing through the bars. My heart squeezed. Bone-thin arms stretched out from some of the cells, reaching for something I couldn’t see. Then the guard from outside came into view dragging the new girl to a chamber. It was a split second when he opened the cell door that I saw her lying on the lower bunk bed, curled in a ball. Her blonde hair spread over the thin mattress under her. Her face void of emotion. She looked dead.

  Annabeth.

  A sound came from my throat.

  “Zoey!” Ryker tried to grab for my arm, but I was already gone. Dashing for the corner of the roof, I figured out that the best way to get there was where the structures almost touched.

  I shoved the knife into the back of my pants and bolted for the ledge. I pushed myself off and flung my body toward the opposite roofline. Grunts and moans hurled from my throat as I landed, rolling several times. Damn. Still hurt. I did this once before when Ryker and I were trying to escape the Collectors. It hurt when I had been human, and it hurt being half fae. But this time I bounced up much faster, scurrying for the roof door without even a limp.

  I had never acted so foolishly, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.

  I heard my name along with some words not even I would repeat, but I ignored the pissed-off Viking and advanced down the stairs to the cells below. My shoes padded down the pinging echo of the steps. The stone felt my adrenaline and hummed along the base of my foot and up my leg. It pushed more power and drive into each step.

  Do you feel it, Zoey? The high you sense right now? It could always be like this.

  I did feel the high. It thrummed into my head. The rush of blood. The sensation of being truly alive, like when I fought. But this was on a whole new level. I needed more. I needed a bigger high.

  I can give that to you.

  I bit down on my lip. I knew it could.

  Say it. Say “Yes, I am yours.” I already have you, Zoey. You know it. Just make it official.

  I could taste blood. Stop! I yelled in my head, but my voice sounded soft, even to me. Pain slashed through my head like a zap of electricity, so quickly bile coated my throat. My legs gave out and I hit a stair. My back slid down the wall, and I groaned.

  No. You won’t have me, I growled in my head. Pressure built against my brain, filling along my skull, until I thought it would explode. Sweat beaded my hairline, my teeth gritted, and a cry escaped. Stop. Now…please, I whimpered.

  Soon, Zoey. I will not wait much longer, it whispered and then went silent.

  The buzzing in my mind vanished, and the pain dissolved into only a slight pulse in my head, sending relief throughout my body. I took in a breath, my muscles still tense after the sudden shock of pain.

  It took me a full minute before I felt confident my legs could hold me. They still shook, along with my hands, like I was some kind of junkie coming down from a high. The magic it contained was like a drug, and when the stone took it totally away from me, I sensed myself crashing. Emotional and trembling, I rolled my shoulders and stood, trying to push the need for another hit.

  All I need is a little, just a small dose to get me through the night.

  Jesus. I did sound like a junkie. And like everyone who suffered an addiction, I wondered how much longer I could resist its call.

  The lack of time and the extreme danger tossed me back on my path. Annabeth. Remember Annabeth. The image of her face stilled my hands. I snuck to the door leading to the cells and twisted the knob. Slowly I peered around it, assessing my surroundings. A large man was stationed on the opposite side at the far end. Crap. I grabbed my weapon.

  At least Annabeth was on the end of the building closest to me, with no guards. I went low, plastering my back to the wall, letting the dark prison engulf me. I slunk down the row, my breath tight in my chest.

  The first cell I passed was empty. The next one held a single girl who stared at the wall, vacant of life. I recognized her as one of Duc’s girls. She wore leggings and a gray sweatshirt, dirty, ripped, and worn, with her frizzy hair knotted in a bun on her head. We had sparred once in the practice ring. She had been decent enough to be an opening fight but not to headline a match. I couldn’t think of her name, and even though it stung to leave her, she was not why I came here. I wanted to help them all eventually, but Annabeth remained my first priority.

  I slipped by one more cell, which held two girls, both curled on their sides asleep. No blankets or pillows, only a thin dirty mattress for comfort, a true prison. I never thought I would say it, but they had been better off with Duc. At least Maria had made sure they were comfortable, clean, and healthy.

  The cell where I spotted Annabeth was close. My heart slammed against my ribs, sweat dampening my back, as I slithered slowly up, grabbed the bars, and looked in. This cell appeared larger with two sets of bunk beds perpendicular to each other, a toilet and sink on the opposite wall.

  Annabeth still lay on her side, indifferent to the new girl sitting in the corner crying. Another girl curled on the top of the other bunk, her back to me.

  “Annabeth?” I whispered, her name almost inaudible. Her complexion had been naturally pale, but now she was the waxy white of parchment. Bruises puffed her right cheek, but her features were sharp with malnutrition. Her leggings and hoodie did little to hide the bones under her skin.

  She didn’t flinch.

  I moved closer, desperation flooding my lungs. “Annabeth.” The girl in the corner stopped crying, her eyes unfocused as she glanced up.

  “I shouldn’t be here,” she sobbed. “I want to go home.”

  “Shhh.” I put my finger to my lips.

  Annabeth slowly lifted her head, then sluggishly turned to the bars. It was several beats before her eyes widened, and she sat up.

  “Zoey?”

  Relief sucker-punched my heart. “Yes.”

  The girl on the top bunk jerked at my name and twisted over. My initial reaction was to lurch back, but I held the bars, forcing myself not to move.

  Maria.

  Her figure was a rail compared to her former curves. Her highlights had grown out giving her curly hair dark roots to her temples and golden brown to her shoulders, her skin pasty and eyes dull and lifeless.

  “Help me!” The crying girl started to crawl over to me but only made it a few feet before stopping.

  “Quiet,” I hissed. She would draw the attention of the guard.

  Maria’s eyes were wide with shock then tapered, her lips curling up. “Why am I not surprised it would be you of all people? The Avenging Angel has come down from the heavens for us. Praise the day.”

  Her bitterness was not lost on me.

  “What are you doing here, Zoey?” Annabeth didn’t rise from her bed, but she leaned over, staring out toward where the guard was stationed, her eyes flitting frantically. The new girl continued to wail.

  “I’m getting you out of here.”

  Maria snorted. “Always the hero, aren’t you?”

  I glared at Maria, then looked back at Annabeth. “I can break these locks, but she needs to shut up.” I motioned at the wailing girl.

  Again, Maria laughed harshly. “They don’t hear our cries.”

  “She’s still bringing attention over here.”

  “No. No. You can’t be here!” Annabeth’s
eyes pleaded with mine. “Zoey, you need to get out of here now.”

  I shook my head. “I’m not leaving without you. I can get you out.”

  Sorrow flittered over Annabeth’s features. “You can’t.”

  Then Annabeth moved her leg, and I saw she was chained to the bed by her ankle. My gaze drifted to Maria then down to the new girl. They were all chained to the bunk beds, giving them only a few feet of freedom to move.

  “Help me. Please. I didn’t do anything wrong. I shouldn’t be here. I never took money. It was just sex.” If not for the bars I probably would have punched the new girl unconscious just to shut her up. She appeared high as a kite and blathering loudly, unaware of the true danger.

  “Hey, bitch. Shut up,” Maria growled at the sobbing mess on the floor.

  My hope was deflating like a balloon.

  “Zoey. Go,” Annabeth demanded. “You don’t understand…they’ve been—”

  The black-haired girl started to screech, pounding the floor and tearing at her hair. Shit, she was coming off the drugs and coming down hard. Guards would be heading here soon. But how could I leave Annabeth knowing where she was and what was happening?

  “Annabeth…”

  “Zoey. Run. They’ve been waiting for you. They knew you’d eventually come here for me.”

  That’s when I heard the pounding of feet coming my way.

  Holy hell.

  Annabeth set her jaw. “I’m a trap for you. I’m so sorry.”

  A cry broke from my lips with realization.

  “You can’t help me if you get caught.” Annabeth’s voice rose. “Girls are disappearing from here daily, never to be seen again. We all need your help, but you won’t be able to if you’re behind these bars with us. Now run!”

  “Freeze!” a man down the walk yelled, as he pointed the gun in my direction. A group clumped behind him, some with fae swords, but most had guns. I wasn’t about to test if the bullets were goblin made or not.

  I gave Annabeth one last look. “I will be back.”

  She nodded. “I know you will.”

  I whirled around and ran.

  For my life and every girl locked in this hellhole.

  THIRTEEN

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  A bullet whistled by my ear as I darted back for the roof door, flinging it open. The sound of footsteps gaining on me bounced off the walls in loud, shrill noises. I hated going back to the roof, limiting my exits, but I had no choice.

  I shut the door behind me, fastening the flimsy lock. It would only hold them for a brief moment, but any time I could gain, I would take.

  I took the steps two at a time, and my short legs strained to push harder. I reached the top, grasping for the knob. I barely touched it before it swung open, and I stumbled out into the night.

  My hope that it was Ryker immediately vanished when a gun was pressed to my forehead. “Step out,” the man barked. The familiarity of his voice rolled over me. “Drop your weapon.”

  “Carlos?” The man who followed Maria around like a lovesick puppy, the one who had actually been decent enough to me under Duc’s rule, stood in front of me, pushing a gun to my head.

  He stirred at hearing his name, but his expression stayed hard and ruthless. “I said drop your weapon.”

  “Okay.” I lifted my arms, easing down to lower my blade. “Carlos, it’s me.”

  “I know who you are: the girl Boss wants.” His words were rote and emotionless, as if he didn’t really know me more than what he had been told.

  Shit. Carlos had been glamoured.

  The door banged below. They would break through in a moment. Some were probably already making their way to the roof from outside. I didn’t have much time.

  “Carlos, look at me. You know me. You helped me.” I kept my hands up. “I was one of the fighters. The Avenging Angel.”

  “Avenging Angel?” he repeated, tilting his head.

  “Yes. I’m not your enemy. I only want to help.” I licked my lips. “I want to help the girls…I want to help Maria.”

  “Maria?” He took a step back, longing imbued in her name. He might not totally remember me, but there was a reason he stayed here as one of Vadik’s guards. And that was the curly-haired girl in the cell block below our feet. He probably talked Vadik into keeping him on. He would want to be where Maria was. Little did he know they would glamour him to try and forget her.

  Love was more powerful than any glamour in the world. He just needed a little reminding. Quickly.

  “Carlos, you love Maria. You would want me to help her.”

  His arms began to shake, his mind and heart opposing each other.

  “Please, just let me go and I swear I will come back and get them out. Safely.”

  He grunted, his gun lowering slightly. A loud clang tore up the stairwell followed by pounding footsteps. They were coming. Crap. This was taking too long. “Sorry, Carlos. I can’t wait for you to come to your senses.”

  I took advantage of his sinking arm. I grabbed the barrel of the gun and punched him hard in the face. I swung my leg, taking his feet out from under him. But he held on to his weapon as if it were his lifeline. I grabbed my knife off the ground and ran.

  “Stop!” I heard him scream as my toes hit the roof wall. I glanced over my shoulder. He lay on his stomach, the gun pointed at my back. Our eyes met. It was a second, but something in his expression shifted, and his finger slid off the trigger.

  I swung around and jumped. As I rolled onto the opposite roof, I heard men filing out the stairway onto the roof, shouting. I scrambled to my feet and started to run, my eyes on the group of men shooting at me.

  “Zoey! Stop!” I heard my name bellowed from the across the roof. My head snapped forward to see Ryker and the reason terror was etched over his features. I skidded to a stop.

  I hit the rim, my arms waggling, trying to keep from falling through the giant hole.

  “Zo-ey!” Ryker screamed, fear curled around my name from far away. Then suddenly he was there. His figure slammed into my back. The ground disappeared under my feet. My stomach plunged as my body flayed in the air, plummeting down the hole of the building. Like a drop of water, gravity tugged me down with speed. The ground came up fast; my head and shoulders slammed into the cement floor with a crunch. The impact was so violent, my nerves went numb, flattening my form to the floor.

  Everything went black.

  Nothing.

  It could have been seconds or years when I sensed a tickling in my soul.

  Then agony. A shitload of it. Scorching up my veins, shredding me from my body.

  Death really, really didn’t like me.

  ####

  Something tugged me from the peacefulness of nothing, where I had no thoughts or pain. There was no me.

  “Zoey.” My name rang in my ears, buzzing my head, tugging me further from the tranquility. “Open your eyes.”

  I tried, but only a groan stung my throat. I heard my name again. Felt a strong awareness my body was being cradled. Warmth.

  My nose filled with strong smells of trees, asphalt, Italian food, Chinese takeout, rotting garbage, and piss. It seemed as if each smell developed a picture in my head of exactly what it was and how far away from me. Okay, weird.

  “Don’t you dare leave me,” a deep voice whispered in my ear.

  Ryker. My heart cried out.

  The pull of him carried me through the last bit of murkiness. My lids fluttered, and I looked up to blazing white eyes. The night sky moved behind his head, becoming so clear and crisp I felt like I had never seen the stars before. My lashes fluttered a few times, the sharpness almost uncomfortable at first, but my sight quickly adjusted and landed fully on the breathtaking man bending over me.

  “Hey,” I croaked.

  His lids squeezed together and then he opened them again, his brows furrowing. “Thank the gods.” It took me a moment to remember why he was thanking his deities, and why he carried me in his arms.

  “We got
out?” I let my head drop to the side to see around me.

  “Yes.”

  “Yay, us.” It was difficult to concentrate on a landmark, but I finally recognized the area. We were near Pioneer Square. “I’ve been out for a while.”

  “You’ve been dead awhile.”

  I twisted my head to look back up at him. His jaw looked like it was crushing his teeth, grinding them into dust.

  “Hey, it’s okay. We made it out. I’m alive.”

  He shook his head. “I jumped…I had no control. I jumped right into you.”

  This had to be strange and frustrating for him, having no command over his powers, as if he were a child again. I spent more time with sporadic powers than I did controlling them.

  “It’s okay.”

  He growled, a strange expression deepening the anger flaming under the surface. He moved quickly through the city, heading back to our hideout.

  I experienced some dizziness, but I actually didn’t feel too bad. Every minute my body continued to heal and regain energy. Actually a lot of energy. My muscles buzzed with a strange abundance of force, wanting to move and run.

  “You can set me down. I can walk on my own.”

  He gritted his teeth and ignored me.

  He carried me the entire way, holding me close, which I found extremely nice, but also curious. Was he fighting our proximity right now?

  Damn this bullheaded Viking. I reached up, brushing the lines from his forehead away. He tipped his head in my hand, tension releasing from his jaw and eyes. He actually looked at peace.

  When we got back to the warehouse, I heard Amara call for us. She was either really quick at getting laid or she never went. Sadly, it was probably the latter. It had likely been more a test for Ryker to see if he would stop her.

  “Not right now,” he shouted back.

  “But—”

  “Not the fuck now!” Ryker roared, then took me into the breakroom, slamming the door. I cringed from the shrill sound, my eardrums pulsing. He set me down on the blankets and stepped across the pitch-black room, lighting a candle. The space illuminated in a hazy glow.