From along the side of the wall, Trevor caught sight of the door. While the rest of his body screamed to stop, his legs carried him forward faster. Panic clawed at his throat, but he’d already committed himself to the task, even if it sank into his stomach like a peach pit. They were going to march into Alberich’s manor and find Danica. If he was truly lucky, they might escape alive.
If he wasn’t, he’d end up behind those bars again.
He passed Jett, his gaze focused on the door as he walked with a purpose the others would have to just follow. The grim reality of their endeavor coated his bones in lead, and each breath he took in sliced like razor blades. The blinking lights, the chatter, and pinging bells all faded into his peripheral. All that existed was his former prison.
Trevor reached the door too fast. He wasn’t ready, and yet, his hand gripped tight on the knob like he might turn it.
“We’re behind you,” Kieran announced, his presence and familiar voice grounding him. “Let’s go ruin Alberich’s fancy manor.”
Trevor tugged the door open, even though his throat tightened. Each breath came shallower than the last. Darkness stretched before him—at least until he crossed the threshold to the Otherworld.
Danica waited inside, and she needed help. Time to stop running and to face his fears.
Trevor sucked in a deep breath and entered.
The threshold to the Otherworld rippled around him, binding like plastic wrap across his skin as he strode inside. At once, he entered a familiar hallway, a presence that marched across his shoulders like millipedes. He scuffed his muddy boots on the velvet runner traveling the length, taking small satisfaction at the smears he left. Trevor’s hands balled into fists as he continued down the hall, waiting, waiting, waiting. Any moment, one of Alberich’s retinue would appear, either to fight them off or escort them forward—in entering his abode, they’d essentially rang the doorbell.
Footsteps clattered behind him.
Trevor didn’t even have the chance to spin around before Renn charged past, his boots slamming against the polished floor and his head down, horns pointed. Kieran galloped by a moment later, letting out a giddy whoop before he leaned over to smack one of the paintings on the wall. It teetered to the side, almost crashing to the ground.
Jett surged beside him, his hands slipping into his pockets. “This is your fault, you know,” he murmured, casting an irritated glance to the way Kieran and Renn gallivanted down the hall. “We could have left them behind, but no, we had to bring the two loudest people in existence.”
Even though his nerves buzzed to the point he could barely hear anything else, Trevor couldn’t help the grin twitching on his lips. “Alberich knew we’d arrived the second we stepped through the door. Might as well make a little noise.”
“Come on, Jettsy,” Liz said, slipping her arm through his. He wrinkled his nose at her nickname, the disgust clear by the curl of his lip. “Let loose,” she continued, her hazel eyes glittering with amusement. “Have a little fun.”
These halls should’ve terrified him. They should’ve paralyzed him faster than a strike of lightning. Yet, surrounded by his friends, his family, and his home—these people gave him the bravery to keep going. To laugh, even in the halls of his old prison.
A crash sounded ahead, and Trevor whipped out a dagger.
A porcelain vase lay in splinters on the floor while Renn stood beside it, lifting his hands in clear guilt. Kieran continued racing past him, arms flailing out and the huge grin on his face revealing his fangs. They’d reached the center of the hallway at this point.
His shoulders relaxed a fraction—at least, until his gaze traveled to the end of the corridor.
Two naga emerged, slithering in their direction at top speed. The snake-like creatures whipped around their tails behind them, claws flashing on their extended fingers, and serpentine gazes unblinking. Trevor didn’t open his mouth to call out—he bolted forward. Liz and Jett took the cue. Not like he needed to worry about Renn or Kieran who always brimmed for a scrap.
The air shifted behind him.
Trevor skidded to a halt before whipping around. A hobgoblin blinked into existence, teeth bared and dark eyes screwed tight with anger. He recognized those eyes. That creature had been in Alberich’s retinue for longer than he’d been caged. His heart slammed hard in his chest, a mix of adrenaline and terror at the sheer sight of his face in this place. Trevor slashed forward with his dagger before the creature could even open its mouth. The hobgoblin stumbled back, and his dagger missed the lumpy, mottled skin by an inch. Trevor lunged in again, closer this time.
His dagger sliced against the hobgoblin’s shoulder, biting into flesh. Green liquid trailed along his blade where it cut. Before Trevor could dart away, the hobgoblin exposed its teeth and launched forward to rake with its claws. The tips snagged against Trevor’s sleeve as it dragged down. However, he loomed over this creature who had once been a blight from his past.
“I’m not in chains now,” was all Trevor said as he lunged forward again. His blade made a neat slice across the hobgoblin’s throat. The creature stared at him for a single moment, frozen in time, until liquid poured from the open wound. Alberich’s crony let out a gurgle as he staggered forward, groping with those clawed hands.
The hobgoblin hit the floor. Trevor spun around. Liz and Jett continued on, launching themselves into the fray against the two naga Kieran and Renn fought. As much as their gang pulled the Scooby Doo run more often than they fought, Kieran made bar brawls his business, and Renn liked to ruin things for fun. With Liz standing back and firing her platinum-tipped bullets into the fray, the naga didn’t stand a chance.
Liz pumped another bullet into the one closest to her, and Kieran lunged in to throw his arms right around its neck. The naga writhed around, whipping back and forth, but the incubus who had ridden his fair share of mechanical bulls in bars held on tight. Liz aimed another shot, this one straight for the gut. As the slug burrowed in, the naga reared back, almost throwing Kieran off.
“Hey,” he shouted to Liz. “Don’t get me killed in the process.” His arm wrapped around the creature’s neck, and a snap followed.
“Then don’t make it so tempting,” Liz called, a grin on her lips. Trevor skidded to a halt in front of them right as Renn thrust his horns into their naga’s stomach. Jett slipped a knife in on the other side, his hand flickering with the speed he peppered the cuts. Blackish blood poured out of them, and Renn wrinkled his nose when he pulled away, flecks of the blood matting his hair and sprinkling across his cheeks like freckles.
“Let’s keep going,” Trevor said, his heart an accelerated thump-thump-thump in his chest. “Follow me.” After all, he knew these halls like the strings of his guitar, no matter how hard he tried to forget them. Down the right turn lay Alberich’s personal corridors, but they were looking for the left. That route, they’d find the ballroom where Alberich kept his menagerie.
The scent of lemon polish lingered in these halls, making him want to gag. He led the others through the narrow corridor, trying to ignore the way his fingers were still sticky with the blood of the hobgoblin. More would follow.
They hadn’t gotten paces down the one hallway when the clip of footsteps came from farther in.
Two redcaps whipped around the corner, followed by a face he saw in his nightmares. The same arrogant features twisted in a sneer. The same blood-darkened eyes. He even wore a similar tailored suit to the ones he always donned during Trevor’s time here.
Tymarch Alberich.
Trevor’s heart stopped cold in his chest. This was the man who’d turned him into an object. This was the man who’d kept him behind bars for far too long. This was the man who’d darkened his future until he’d fumbled blind out of this place and continued to do so for years after. His palms broke into a cold sweat, and he forgot how to breathe.
Both groups skidded to a halt at the sight of each other. However, the seconds their eyes locked gave Alberich the advantage
.
“Rally to me,” Alberich called, projecting his voice down the hallway. Any moment, the other mercenaries would come rushing to his aid. The man employed more fighters than the King, and he had the cash to ensure their loyalty.
Kieran rushed past him. “Looking for another black eye, Alberich?”
Trevor hadn’t forgotten about the encounter in the Lotus Garden when they’d last seen Alberich. He’d lost control and began mutating into the form he rarely used. Kieran had stood up for him then, even in the face of an entire casino full of Unseelie who wanted to claim the bounty Alberich put over his head. At once, a similar transition took hold as his limbs stretched longer, his skin greying to the ash of a cremation. Within seconds, he towered over the other bandmates.
Liz cast him a nervous glance, but she nodded.
Jett slapped him on the back. “Go get him, bruiser.”
Trevor soaked in their support, and he bolted forward, chasing after Kieran. He hadn’t gone a couple of steps before the clamor of others approaching rose from behind.
“Keep going,” Jett called out. “We’ve got this covered.”
Trevor surged forward, the force of his steps reverberating up his shins. His entire body vibrated with unspent tension—like this, he became death in the breeze.
A call bubbled in the back of his throat, and for the first time in years, his screech erupted from his throat with the full fury of his kind. The scream reverberated around the halls, rattling the paintings along the walls and resonating through his entire body to his bones. The sound undulated until his throat dried and his body ached as he poured every last ounce of energy into the wail. It trailed off, the echoes carrying through the corridor. The sound soaked into the very stones of this place. His gaze hadn’t left Alberich once as he let out a death cry.
For the first time, his former master’s eyes reflected true fear.
Kieran crashed into the first of the redcaps, his fist cocked and sailing toward the big bastard’s jaw. Trevor reached for his knife, pulling the still wet blade out as he swerved toward Alberich who’d begun backing away.
Before Trevor could let his blade swing, the other redcap stepped in the way. The steel trap of a hand wrapped around his wrist, and the guy yanked him forward. He was all limbs at this point as he staggered past the redcap, trying to stay steady on his feet. The redcap pivoted around, and his fist popped right into view.
Too fast to dodge.
The redcap’s fist slammed right into his solar plexus. Trevor’s vision tunneled for a moment, and the breath flew out of him. He wheezed, unable to draw in air as he sagged down. All he could do was toss his hands up in defense. The fists thudded against his forearms when he tried to force a breath. His chest felt like someone dropped a stick of dynamite inside.
Trevor stumbled a few paces until the first breath splintered through him and his vision returned to normal. The redcap already charged for him, sharp gray teeth bared and dripping in crimson. Trevor dodged out of the way by an inch.
A shout came from behind him, followed by the bark of Liz’s Beretta. He chanced a single glance back. Two rakshasas, another redcap, and another naga arrived on the scene. Jett, Renn, and Liz were doing their best, but these brutal professionals had the odds now.
The redcap’s fist veered toward him again. Trevor ducked out of the way, another close call. His heart slammed in his chest. He moved around at an accelerated speed in this form, his longer limbs allowing him greater reach. Amid the chaos, Alberich vanished, which was just like the cowardly bastard. He’d always leave the bloodstains and bruises to those he paid to protect him.
Some thread in Trevor’s chest snapped, an urgency driving him to the offensive. Alberich couldn’t escape again. Not after everything he’d done. Not after Trevor risked his freedom to return.
The redcap’s fist sped his way again, but this time he stayed still. Before the punch landed, Trevor snapped out and gripped the guy’s wrist. He yanked forward, pulling the same move the redcap had on him—except, he followed through. The second the redcap stumbled forward, Trevor’s knee slammed him right in the chest.
Before the redcap could recover, Trevor’s fists thudded into him again and again and again. He moved like a machine, unable to dispel the images thundering through him of the endless nights where he’d stare at the bars above him and hoped. Or the nights those hopes died and he’d floated through on a cloud of numbness, hours turning into days turning into years.
He focused on the redcap before him, only to realize blood covered his fists. Trevor continued punching, even after the guy’s eyes had rolled into the back of his head.
Trevor let the redcap drop, and he hit the ground with a thud. Kieran wrestled around with the other redcap, limbs whipping around as both of them took their fair share of lumps. Liz fired at the encroaching naga, doing her best to dodge out of the way as the creature slithered closer to her. Renn and Jett stood back to back, fighting against the two rakshasa and the redcap determined to make their lives miserable.
More footsteps thundered from the direction they’d entered.
Trevor’s heart plummeted to the tundra depths of Winter’s Realm.
“Devil be damned,” scraped past his lips as he whipped around to face whatever new threat approached.
Three centaurs appeared at the far end of the hall with matching grim expressions. The King’s cavalry had arrived.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The seconds felt like hours, and who knew, maybe they were. Danica stared down her prison guard who strode back and forth in front of the door, getting more restless as time passed. Her pinky throbbed with a distracting pulse that had her clenching her teeth so hard she tasted copper.
“You know,” she said between her gritted teeth, “if you loosened these bonds, we could get ourselves a nice game of cards going while we wait. I’ve been known to play a mean game of pinochle.”
The redcap glowered at her from where he waited by the door. “If you don’t shut up soon, I’ll do the trick for you,” he muttered. “We’ve got duct tape somewhere around here.”
Danica’s mind started whirring into overdrive, sparked to life by the statement.
“Come on now, and miss out on the pleasant sound of my voice?” she continued, goading him on. “You wouldn’t deprive yourself of that, now would you? If you like, I’ve got a half dozen limericks memorized. I could recite them.”
The redcap let out a grunt and stalked toward the desk. Her heart pounded faster in her chest, but she continued. “There once was an old man in a tree, who was horribly bored by a bee.”
The redcap marched forward, duct tape in hand and a doomsday expression on his face. Her breaths sharpened as she waited. Closer. This might be her one shot.
“When they said, ‘does it buzz?” she continued. A foot away.
The redcap leaned an inch away from her face, fiddling with the duct tape. “He replied yes it does,” she said, right as she slammed her head forward. Her skull thwacked against his with a thud that echoed around the room. Danica used the force to tilt her entire body forward, sending the iron chair tipping. She rocked back, and then vaulted forward again, right as the redcap clapped his hand to his temple.
The iron chair came crashing forward with her still strapped to it, as the entire weight crashed on top of the redcap. The wind rushed out from her chest, and her head conked against the floor with a force that made her wince as the chair tumbled off to the side. The redcap pushed himself from the floor, blood smeared across his face and several cuts accumulated along his arms.
Danica leaned against the floor. Fuck. She’d exhausted her one mode of attack, and now the big bastard was pissed.
“Then some more bullshit about a bee,” she finished the limerick, testing the restraints around her wrists. Still on tight. The redcap loomed over her, his shoulders heaving with rage, and a sickening glow in his eyes. He bared his teeth as if to display what would be sinking into her flesh in mere minutes. She tens
ed her calves—they’d made a mistake when they didn’t bind them.
The second he came close enough, she’d at least get a final kick in before he ripped her to shreds.
His shadow careened over her. Sweat trickled down her neck, dripping to the floor. Her pinky throbbed something fierce, a reminder she couldn’t even form a fist right now. Her calves twitched at the ready.
The door flung open with a resounding bang.
Danica faced the wall, so she couldn’t see who’d entered. “Alberich, if you do happen to find the mirror, you can shove it right up your ass.”
“D?”
The voice made her heart stop still. She had to be dreaming. The redcap’s shadow shifted away from her as he approached the intruder. From behind her, all she could hear was the shuffle of footsteps, then the thump of fists to flesh. The snick of a blade being drawn. Danica shifted from side to side in the seat, trying to rock the chair over in the other direction.
She needed to see if he had arrived.
A low grunt sounded, followed by the scrape of shoes on concrete. Danica got the chair rocking back and forth, trying to use the swing of her legs to bring it teetering over to the other side. She got closer, enough that it swayed up to clang down on the concrete again. As the two fought out of view behind her, she continued funneling every ounce of energy into swinging the chair around. Each time she got the chair to swerve higher, she tugged at the restraints around her wrist, trying to loosen the bonds more and more.
Finally, Danica got enough momentum. The chair swung around to the opposite side and her with it. As she crashed to the ground, her head bounced against the concrete, again. She tasted blood at this point. The cords around her wrists had loosened enough to almost pull her hands from them, even though her wrists chafed. As she pulled at the fraying bonds, she glanced to where the redcap fought.
Hypnotizing Beat Page 20
