INVISIBLE FATE BOOK THREE: ALEX NOZIAK (INVISIBLE RECRUITS)

by Buckham, Mary

  Compel. Constrain. Conjure.”

  The floor started rocking beneath them, small swells of magic erupting. The nearest windows rattled. A crack appeared spidering from the ceiling.

  “Halt!” The fae hissed.

  It was too late. Bran notched his chin and braced himself.

  “I thee call. I thee command.

  Power be bound. I be gone.”

  A flash of orange tainted smoke was all that remained of where he’d been standing.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  It took another five minutes too long for the girl to make up her mind. We didn’t have a lot of options. I was getting colder and more exhausted. “I’m not in a sauna here,” I snarled at last. “Either go or stay but decide. Now.”

  “You’re a bitch,” she mumbled as she slid into the water beside me.

  “I know it.”

  “That’s okay. I’m a bitch, too,” she said, gritting her teeth against the cold.

  This time I did laugh. At times I could like this kid. “Hey, what’s your name?” I asked.

  “Why? You want it for the tombstone?”

  “Something like that.”

  Tit for tat. Maybe I didn’t want her name. But in case only one of us lived, and I was going to give everything I had to make sure both of us did, but just in case, someone should know what happened to their daughter or sister.

  I glossed over my assumption that no way was I going to cash in today. It wasn’t an option.

  “It’s Sabina,” she mumbled so quietly I almost missed it.

  “Like that TV teenage witch?” That’d suck.

  “No. I was named for a great aunt.”

  “Sounds Irish.”

  “Well, I’m not.”

  If I could have lifted my hands to tell her I wasn’t the enemy, I would have. Instead, I put temper in my voice. “Fine, Sabina. Get your ass over here before I forget I wanted to save you.”

  The smile she gave me said, bring it on.

  Good, we understood each other perfectly.

  I eased myself out into the water while keeping my shoulder against the wall to my left. Almost immediately, I could feel the sucking power of the whirlpool pulling both of us down. It was stronger than I’d expected.

  Damn and double damn.

  The girl—Sabina—eased herself over, dodging under my right arm until she was directly in front of me.

  I swallowed, willing my stomach not to start heaving from the stench and the fear.

  “I’ll count to three.” I maneuvered my left arm along her shoulder and under her chin, sensing her panic, which I ignored. No sense both of us giving into the terror churning through us.

  “When I say three I’ll start swimming backwards, pulling you by your neck.”

  “You won’t choke me?”

  Might, if she didn’t get her act together. But what I said was, “It could feel like that but it’s only to keep your nose and mouth out of the water.”

  “Fine.”

  “You keep your body in as straight a line as possible, floating.”

  “Got it.”

  “One.” This so wasn’t going to work.

  “Two.” Where was a decent power spell when you really needed one?

  “Three.” I used my left foot to shove away from the wall, but even as I was pushing off, Sabina grabbed onto the concrete lip even harder.

  Oh, no you don’t.

  I tugged with all my might, which was considerable, more than I expected and almost submerged the two of us. Luckily, most of my left side was smashed against the wall on that side so we weren’t sucked under. Yet.

  Like a bobbing fishing lure in the hands of an incompetent angler, we moved away from the lip, Sabina struggling and twisting, which was going to make it that much easier for the whirlpool to catch us and drag us down.

  “Stop. Fighting,” I ground out through clenched teeth. My head was barely above the sludge, opening my mouth to speak coherently was so not an option.

  Either my anger got through, or the clutch of my arm around her neck cut off enough of her oxygen supply she couldn’t struggle as much, but she slowed her gyrations.

  I used my free right arm to keep us moving across the pool, my legs almost useless except for a few feeble kicks. Sabina wasn’t doing that great a job back-floating on the water so last thing I wanted was our legs to entangle.

  Just how far was twelve feet across anyway?

  I felt I’d been dragging her dead weight for hours.

  Stroke. Pull. Stroke.

  I could have made it across the English Channel by now.

  Only good thing was Sabina seemed as determined as I was to keep her mouth clamped shut so no complaints spewed forth.

  Stroke. Pull. Stroke.

  When we got out, I was going to take a shower that lasted hours, days maybe.

  Stroke. Pull. Stroke.

  Had to be closer. I twisted my head to check the distance, biting back a moan when I calculated we’d gone less than halfway.

  Then, just when I didn’t think I could be any more grossed out, my foot tangled with something beneath the water.

  I jerked. My feet kicked against something solid and bulky. Yucky water splashed over both our faces.

  Only my right hand kept us afloat and it wasn’t doing too good a job.

  I used everything I had and then some to keep pulling. Even without using my feet, whatever was down there was blocking our forward movement.

  We were going to die.

  No one would ever know. All my father’s warnings about coming to a bad end because I was too willful roared through me.

  That’s when Sabina started screaming.

  If I thought she’d been difficult before, it was nothing to her thrashing now.

  What the Mother Goddess—

  “Stop!” I gulped around the surge of liquids she caused to crest over both our faces, forcing me to squeeze both mouth and eyes closed.

  When I opened my eyes I noticed her pointing fingers.

  A hand bobbed above the water. Fingers curled into a grotesque fist.

  Call me sick but I almost laughed out loud. Not the ha-ha kind but the relief kind.

  The Loch Ness monster wasn’t jamming us, only one of the dead Weres.

  Only an IR agent a few weeks and I could be so callous about a dead person. But I’d take callous over fear of the unknown.

  With a groan, I kicked at the submerged body, using it to push off for another foot of pool covered.

  The hand disappeared. Sabina quit her banshee wailing. Only three more feet to swim.

  Praise the Great Spirits, we might make it.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  I was gulping air, my heart pounding, my muscles firing with after burn by the time my right hand swung back and hit the stone base of the stairway. If I had enough energy left to shout halleluiah I would have, but it took my remaining energy dregs to pull Sabina to the slab.

  We both scraped our elbows on the level, gulping air like two beached whales.

  “You really are a bitch,” were her first words.

  I barely had the womp to turn my head and spear her with a glance. That’s the thanks I got? I’d hauled her skinny ass this far and all I’d earned was another slap? “You’re welcome,” I snarled.

  She ignored my sarcasm. Not easy to do as she asked, “What was that?” She gave a weak wave toward the pool. “You know. That thing?”

  “Dead guy chasing us.” No need to freak her out and admit it was a preternatural being sent to kill us.

  “Oh,” she released a sigh that sounded like it’d been pulled from her toes.

  “What’d you think it was?”

  “I dunno. A golem or an Adaro.”

  So maybe she knew a hint more about preternaturals than the average teen.

  I shook my head. “I don’t even know what an Adaro is.”

  “They travel in waterspouts. Come from a person’s most wicked parts. Hate humans.”

  Fraule
in Fassbinder, the IR instructor of all creatures mythical and dangerous, would love her. I knew I was impressed.

  “Sounds like you know a few scary things?” The words were out of my mouth before I could snatch them back.

  “Yeah, live on the streets long enough and you know there’s a whole lot more scary out there than not.” Her voice trailed off, as if she’d ran out of endurance, or decided even speaking about the bad things could summon them. Or maybe a little bit of both.

  Since floating against the stairs wasn’t getting us anywhere fast, except more exhausted, I inhaled a deep breath and pulled myself out of the sludge, first elbows then knees until I could turn on the small slab, like a cat finding the best place to sun itself. Only there wasn’t any sun and as nice as a nap sounded it wasn’t on the agenda. I grabbed the back of Sabina’s shirt and hauled her up to land with a solid splat next to me. Not that there was a lot of room. Space for two barely and not to do more than sit or stand.

  She raised her head and looked up. “We’re going there?”

  “Unless you have a better idea.” There was no sting to my words. I didn’t want to waste the effort. Though as I turned around to look at the worn rock stairs and the red glow at the top, I wanted to groan. The angle looked like the trajectory for Mt. Everest, nearest the peak, where most folks just gave up and died.

  “Any idea where the door goes?” she asked, her voice puny.

  “Nope.” I pulled myself to my knees. “Best bet is out of here.”

  “Works for me,” she mumbled, mimicking my moves. If I looked as all out as she did, I wondered if we’d make it to the top.

  Needs must, Noziak. Get a move on it.

  Then I paused. “Should wring as much water out of our clothes now, before we get topside. With as hot as it is in here they might even dry a bit.”

  She nodded and we wrung t-shirts and pants as much as we could. It helped, a little, till she looked at my hands, which were more visible in the red light.

  “I thought you’d been bleeding earlier, from your hand, but you’re not.”

  I followed her gaze and gave a rough shrug, searching for an explanation that would make sense. I settled for a half-truth. “I’m pretty tough.”

  Liar. My hands didn’t look any worse for wear, which sent a chill through me that had nothing to do with wet clothes. No way was I now a shifter. If I were, I’d have drowned in the pool. Wouldn’t I? So maybe the doctor had given me something to aid in healing. That had to be it.

  To distract the girl, and myself, I grabbed the metal rail along one side of the stairs to haul myself hand over hand as the legs weren’t fully cooperating. “First one to the door gets the first shower.”

  “What shower?” she wanted to know behind me.

  “Somewhere. Out there. There’s a shower with our names on it.”

  “You sure?”

  I choked back a snort. We’d survived Were attacks, imprisonment, near drowning, more Were attacks, and she wanted guarantees on a shower. “We’re in Paris. There’s going to be a shower somewhere.”

  “As if anyone in their right mind would let us in to use their shower,” she huffed each word and ended on a gasp.

  I paused, hating the fact she was right. I’d so focused on just getting out of here I hadn’t thought beyond that. That and killing Bran. So now what?

  There was a silver lining. If we were picked up for wandering the Parisian streets soaking wet and looking like we did, we’d no doubt be carted off to jail. There they’d have to wash us down before they locked the cell doors. Wouldn’t they? Yup, it wasn’t much of a silver lining but I’d grab onto it. Plus, jail usually allowed a person one phone call. If I could connect with the IR team with that call, and if they were still talking to me, I just might get through this, whatever I was embroiled in. If I couldn’t contact them I’d head to the safe house, assuming they’d let either of us out of jail.

  Suddenly life was looking better.

  I started pulling myself upwards again. Until I reached the last step, Sabina hot on my heels and slapping one hand on the metal door before I could catch my breath. “Me win,” she huffed.

  “Fine.” I didn’t really care. Unless there was only one shower with limited hot water. Then all bets were off.

  I grabbed for the handle and pulled.

  But nothing budged.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  If smacking my head against the door would’ve done us any good, I would have done so. Of course the bloody thing would open from the other side and it looked like it locked from there, too.

  Sabina started pounding and kicking on it, tears tracking down her cheeks, visible in the red glow leaking from around the door. I pulled her back. “Only going to waste what energy you have left. We’ve got to come up with a plan.”

  “You mean like jumping back into that pool? Your great earlier plan?”

  That put some starch in my backbone. “Yeah, like that. Which did get us off a useless ledge.”

  “So we can stand in front of a useless locked door?”

  Well, if she was going to be snippy about things.

  I turned my back to the door and slid down to a crouch. I was right. I knew I was, but I was also so strung out I needed a minute to come up with my get-us-the-hell-out-of-here plan.

  Sabina joined me, vibrating with anger. Which wasn’t going to change anything.

  So I just crouched there, my hands hanging useless between my bent knees, feeling the cold press of metal against my back, wondering what now.

  “And you’re supposed to be this amazing witch,” she muttered under her breath as if I wasn’t right there, listening.

  It took a few seconds for her words, and not just the tone, to register.

  “Says who?” I asked, my voice having more oomph than I did right then.

  She nodded her head toward the tunnel where we’d exited what seemed like a lifetime ago. “The assholes who’d wheeled you into that cell.”

  Which gave me a whole new shiver of creepiness. “Who were they?” I was grasping at straws to make sense of anything.

  “It wasn’t like they introduced themselves to me,” she snipped back.

  I raised my head enough to cut a sharp glance in her direction. Not that I blamed her for her nerves. Much. “So why’d they take you?”

  “Duh.” Now she sounded like every teen ever born. “I was plan B.”

  “That meant somebody had a plan A.”

  “You were plan A.”

  Okay, a few more comments like that and I’d be having a full-blown panic attack. Except Noziaks didn’t do panic.

  There was always a first time though.

  “Any idea what plan A, or B, was?”

  She shrugged.

  I remembered words. The name Zaradian. And something more? But it escaped me.

  There had to be a thread of logic behind whatever was going on. If I could figure that out, I might know whom I was running from and how to avoid them. Sure, leaving Paris and wanting to race home to Mud Lake was a good start, though I wasn’t really escaping. I’d be returning. There was a difference.

  Yeah, right.

  The team would help me figure out what was going on. Maybe even help. If they hadn’t already written me off as a lost cause. So the plan was still in place, if a little rough around the edges. Find the team. Tell them what I knew.

  Then find and take care of Bran.

  Other snippets of conversation from before came back to me. I cut a hard glance at my companion. “You’re a witch, right?”

  She gave a hard, tight nod. Like she wasn’t used to admitting such a thing in public. I could understand that.

  “So whoever is behind kidnapping you …” Another assumption. “You were kidnapped, right?”

  “Give the lady a prize.”

  I could get snarky. Really I could. It was my second language. My first when I was stressed, which seemed like every day since joining the IR Agency, but I was getting a little tired of getting
chewed up every other sentence.

  “I’m trying to find out what the hell is going on,” I snarled, having a much bigger bark than the kid beside me. “So get off your high horse and start giving me some straight answers. Got it?”

  It took a few pregnant minutes before she offered a jerky head nod.

  “So you were snatched from where?”

  “Les Halles,” she said. I must have looked as clueless as I felt, so she added, “Near the Fontaine des Innocents.” Her duh was unstated but loud and clear.

  “That a popular place for teens to hang out?” I asked.

  “Yeah. What of it?”

  It was my turn to ignore her, the wheels turning in my head. “Who knew you were a witch?” At her frown I pushed, “Come on. Friends? Family?”

  “My old lady kicked me out a year ago.”

  I held back my surprise. She couldn’t have been older than fifteen or sixteen. I wanted to ask but that wasn’t going to get me the intel I needed and probably just piss her off again.

  “So … friends,” I muttered, mostly to myself.

  “My friends would never.” She shook her head. “Non. Un acte de trahison. Never.”

  “In English?”

  “They wouldn’t rat me out.”

  “Somebody did.” I kept the words low-keyed, raising my hands in a half—WTF gesture. “Someone had to have shared information about you to someone else looking for a witch.”

  “They—” She jerked as if prodded with an electrical prod. “Aurelie.” Sabina all but spat the word. “That bitch. She’d sell her soul for a few sous.”

  “Is this—” I was going to say Aurelie, but changed my mind. “Is this bitch like you?”

  “Is she a w—”

  “No, I mean is she living on the streets?”

  “When she chooses.”

  This wasn’t getting me anywhere. “So how long ago were you taken?” I needed a stronger idea of what or who I was up against back in those cells.

  “Four or five days. Maybe a little longer.”

  “How long was I out? Since they put me in the cell?”

  “About two days.”

  No telling how much time had passed before that.