Blaze of Secrets (Asylums for Magical Threats)

by Donovan, Jessie

  “Sir, it’s Ramirez, with a progress report.”

  His retrieval team had captured Jaxton Ward earlier this morning, and Ramirez was in charge of getting information out of him. Sources said that Ward was a first-born activist, suspected of working with DEFEND.

  Gio pressed a button to unlock his door and said, “Enter.”

  Ramirez walked in and quickly closed the door. “The prisoner is still being uncooperative, but now that the escaped first-born has been secured, I have a new strategy I wanted to run by you.”

  Kiarra’s successful capture was news to him, but Gio was careful not to betray that fact. He’d deal with the information lapse later. “What do you have in mind?”

  “The prisoner is protecting the woman. From all accounts, he drew the retrieval team away from her so that they would follow him. I think he cares for her.” Gio waved for the man to continue. “If I can show she’s being abused, her life on the line, he will probably do anything to guarantee her safety.”

  “Even though the first-born’s life is protected by the AMT Oversight Committee, but he won’t know that.”

  “Exactly.”

  While Kiarra had broken the law and first-borns could be sentenced without trial, there were limits to what he’d allow. “Tell me what you have in mind.”

  “A few bruises and maybe some ripped clothing, but nothing more.”

  Millie’s voice filled his mind: Why does she deserve it?

  No, this was different. He could justify Ramirez’s request because Kiarra had broken the law. “Fine, but have someone else rough her up so you can establish a ‘good cop, bad cop’ scenario. That way she might be more cooperative with you later on.”

  Ramirez nodded and left to carry out his plan.

  Gio was not going to feel guilty for following the law. Kiarra had escaped and resisted capture. Without making an example out of her, others would try to follow suit. The AMT Oversight Committee and, most importantly, his father would make Gio the scapegoat if he didn’t follow through. And any opportunity to learn more about the pediatrics facilities and the AMT-conducted experiments would disappear.

  He stilled. When had learning more about the inner workings of the AMT become more important than repealing Article I?

  Keep lying to yourself.

  The woman. She was partly to blame for this. Without her mistreatment, he probably never would’ve gone sniffing around the AMT records, nor discovered information about the breeding program. Still, he couldn’t be too angry at her; her pain had opened his eyes. He still struggled with the newfound image he was starting to get of his father, but Gio hesitated to deem him guilty without all the facts.

  All he knew was that in order to continue to have access to privileged information, he needed to find out about Kiarra’s capture and analyze the report. He needed something to tell his father.

  He checked his email and scanned the report on Kiarra’s capture. The basics were there, but at the end, the man who’d taken point hinted at something important, something too risky to be shared over email. Gio sent a text message to arrange a meeting; the man replied right away to confirm the time and place.

  With any luck, he could ship Kiarra back to the Cascade F-block within the next few days and have a new assignment from his father soon after that. The longer it took to get Kiarra out of the same facility Gio stood in right now, the greater the chance of Gio meeting Kiarra. As he’d learned with Millie, reading or hearing about a beating was one thing, but confronting it face to face was another. He couldn’t afford to think of Kiarra as anything more than an escaped first-born.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Jaxton grunted as a fist connected with his stomach, and then again, before the interrogator backed off and waited. But despite the pinpricks of light hovering at the edges of his vision, Jaxton forced himself to appear nonchalant, as if he hadn’t been beaten to a bloody pulp the day before. He’d learned quickly that the AMT interrogators took advantage of the slightest sign of weakness.

  And he needed to stay strong if he wanted to help either Kiarra or his sister.

  Kiarra. Hopefully she’d arrived at the safe house without incident. No doubt the AMT interrogators would’ve used Kiarra against him by now if they’d caught her. But since their questions had mainly focused on first-born activist groups, and not her whereabouts, he was going to assume she was safe until he found out otherwise. Kiarra was resourceful; no doubt she’d contacted Aislinn and was already planning a rescue mission.

  Or so he hoped.

  Whatever might’ve happened, Jaxton needed to focus on finding a way to escape; he wasn’t much good to anyone whilst he was tied to a chair.

  His wrists were tied behind his back with a nylon rope that also stretched to his ankles. The position was not just uncomfortable, it made escape nearly impossible without a weapon. Anytime he’d been left alone, Jaxton had tested his bonds, but they weren’t loose enough yet to slip his hands out of the rope.

  Jaxton needed to think of another way to get free.

  Unfortunately, there wasn’t much he could use inside this room. Apart from his chair and a few cabinets, the room was pure steel. The drains in the floor only confirmed his suspicions about the purpose of this room—he reckoned that he wasn’t the first person to be interrogated here.

  As he’d done with the man who’d visited him earlier, he eyed his interrogator for anything he could use. But the man was clever enough to be dressed in simple attire, without weapons.

  His current interrogator noticed Jaxton’s scrutiny, walked over, and smashed his fist into Jaxton’s cheek.

  Jaxton forced himself not to react to the pain and calmly spat out the blood from his mouth before testing his newly loose tooth with his tongue. The interrogator watched him, and Jaxton could tell the man was sizing up Jaxton’s current state, to see how much more he could take.

  A few seconds later, the interrogator finally spoke up. “Which first-born group do you work for? Or did the first-born slut simply offer her body in exchange for your protection?”

  So this one is going to bring Kiarra into it. Jaxton knew the man was trying to get a rise out of him, but Jaxton prevented himself from doing something daft, like telling the man to go fuck himself, and decided to shift the focus by using his own game of provocation.

  Jaxton lifted the corner of his mouth in a half-smile. “Sorry to disappoint, mate, but women aren’t my thing.” He gave the interrogator a deliberate look. “But you and I, now there’s something I can see.”

  The interrogator’s face crinkled in disdain. “Enough. As much as I enjoy beating the shit out of you, I have something that’ll break your silence.” The man walked over to one of the cabinets in the room and pulled out a laptop. After fiddling with some keys, he walked back to Jaxton’s side. “I think you’re protecting the girl, and I can prove it.”

  The interrogator turned the laptop around and showed him a picture of Kiarra lying on top of a table, unconscious. Her hair was in the new cut, and her cheeks were fuller than when he’d taken her from the Cascade F-block two weeks ago, meaning that this picture was recent.

  Had they really captured her? The first feelings of unease gripped his belly, but Jaxton kept outwardly calm. He needed to bluff and determine if Kiarra really was in danger. “Are surveillance photos of a sleeping woman supposed to mean something to me?”

  The man said nothing, but clicked to the next photo, which showed Kiarra with a split lip and a dark bruise across her cheek.

  Jaxton bit the inside of his mouth to keep his temper in check. While it was possible they’d captured Kiarra, he wasn’t about to believe them just yet; these days any bloody idiot with a computer could mess with a picture and make it look realistic.

  Even if the image were doctored, just seeing a beat-up version of Kiarra didn’t sit well with him. Only because of years of training did Jaxton keep his voice calm. “I barely know her. Maybe she had it coming.”

  The interrogator continued to
watch Jaxton’s face for any signs of emotion, but Jaxton kept his mask in place. Think of Kiarra. You can’t help her if you’re dead. Once he was free, he could teach this bastard a lesson, but not before.

  Another click, and this time the photo showed Kiarra unconscious with her top ripped down the front. The torn material barely concealed her breasts. Jaxton bit the inside of his mouth hard enough to draw blood, and clenched his fists behind his back. If he found out that these pictures were real, he was going to kill whoever had abused her.

  The interrogator gave the picture an appreciative look. “She’s a hot little thing, isn’t she? Once I’m done with you, maybe I’ll tie her up and tease her to frustration.” The interrogator leaned down and looked him dead in the eye. “It won’t be long before I’ll have that bitch begging for my cock.”

  Jaxton was perilously close to losing his cool. If anyone had molested her, so help him, everyone in this facility was going to fucking pay—one way or another.

  The interrogator kept his eyes trained on Jaxton’s face as he clicked again, this time showing Kiarra still unconscious, but naked from the waist up. Jaxton couldn’t tamp down his growl.

  Those were Kiarra’s breasts, and they were meant for him and only him.

  Jaxton tugged at his hands, but the rope held firm. He looked around the room again. The interrogator had forgotten to shut the cabinet door when he’d retrieved the laptop, and inside were trays of medical instruments. If he could find a way to stun his interrogator and get to the open cabinet, Jaxton might have a chance of getting out of here and finding Kiarra.

  Jaxton focused back on his interrogator and the man gave a cool smile. “So you do care for her.” He leaned in a little closer. “Then I’m going to make this perfectly clear: For each session you refuse to answer my questions, I will bring the little first-born bitch to this room and have fun with her, right in front of you. Piss me off enough and I’m going to fuck her till she can’t walk, then bring in some of the other guards and pass her around.” The man grabbed Jaxton’s hair and yanked his head back. “Should I get her right now and prove my point?”

  No fucking way in hell. Jaxton growled louder this time, his control gone as he strained against his bonds. He didn’t notice that the lights started to flicker or that the laptop sparked and went dark. “You touch her and I will fucking tear you apart.” He pulled at his bonds again, but this time they started to stretch. “I will fucking kill you.”

  The man eyed the lights, but focused back on Jaxton. “Empty threats, Ward.” The man stepped away and headed for the door. “I’m going to get her right now and prove to you that I don’t bluff. I bet the first-born whore will spread her legs for me if I threaten your life.”

  “No!” Jaxton shouted, causing more lights to flicker and sparks to fly. This bastard didn’t deserve to be in the same room as Kiarra, let alone touch her. Jaxton gave a final tug and the ties around his arms gave way.

  His feet were still bound, but Jaxton lunged for the bastard and shouted, “You will not fucking lay a hand on her.”

  Sparks had started to fly again, and the man covered his ears right before Jaxton slugged the man’s jaw. They both went down, but Jaxton kept his position on top and took hold of the man’s shoulders. He banged the man’s head against the ground. “Where is she?”

  The man stared at him wide-eyed. Jaxton barely noticed the blood running from the inside of the man’s ears before he slammed him against the floor again. “Where?”

  “Wh-what are you?”

  Jaxton growled and the man winced at the sound. The lights continued to flicker. His initial haze of fury was fading, allowing reason back into his brain.

  If the electrical shorts were limited to this room, someone would probably come to investigate. Jaxton had a few minutes at best, so he pulled the man up to his face and said, “Tell me where she is and I might not kill you.”

  “I-I don’t know.”

  Disgusted at how quickly the man’s nerve had vanished, Jaxton slammed the man’s head against the floor, knocking him unconscious. He didn’t have time to waste with a blathering idiot afraid of a few growls and some flickering lights.

  He needed to get out of this room, and quickly.

  Jaxton frisked the guard and took his access card and gun before freeing his own legs and heading for the door. The room in Kiarra’s photos had looked similar to this one, so he only hoped that Kiarra—and Millie, for that matter—was being held in the same facility.

  Jaxton slid the security card through the panel next to the door. The light turned green, and he went into the hallway. As much as he wanted to singlehandedly rescue Kiarra and Millie on his own, he wouldn’t risk their safety. His first priority was to find a room with a phone and call for backup.

  Gio stood at the foot of Calton Hill in Edinburgh. While he waited for his contact to arrive, he stared up at the purplish-blue sky of twilight and tried to forget what he’d just seen. But not even the beautiful canvas of the sky could block out the picture Ramirez had sent to his phone, the one showing Kiarra with a bruised face and split lip.

  Gio wondered why, despite explicit instructions to the contrary, Ramirez had shared his handiwork. Did he suspect what Gio had done with Millie Ward? The picture might be a veiled threat, telling him that Ramirez would continue to reject Gio’s authority until some condition was met.

  Whatever the reason, seeing his sister’s battered face after all these years wasn’t sitting well with Gio’s conscience. Once this meeting was over, he’d contact his father and seek out his next assignment. The sooner he finished his investigation concerning the experiments inside the AMT, the sooner he could decide what to do about it. If the abuse of first-borns was widespread, he couldn’t ignore it and do nothing.

  A tall figure dressed in jeans approached and stopped a few feet from Gio’s location. Gio kept his face neutral despite the surprise; it wasn’t his man Huang, but he recognized the blond man from the personnel files.

  When Dr. Ty Adams spoke, it was in a gravelly American accent. “It was the season of light.”

  He’d find out later how Adams had learned the correct pass phrase.

  Gio gave the required response. “It was the season of darkness.”

  How apropos.

  Gio started climbing the steps of the hill and Adams followed. Only when they were far enough up the hill, where the wind would cover their voices, did Gio speak up. “Care to tell me why you’re here and what this is about?”

  Adams shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Only if you promise to turn F-839 over into my care later tonight.”

  Gio stopped and turned, wondering what Adams wanted with Kiarra. Using every trick of arrogance he’d learned during his five years at Harrow, he said, “You’re hardly in the position to negotiate, doctor.”

  Adams raised his left eyebrow, the one divided in two by a scar. “I can play this game too, son. I have information your father would love to hear.”

  Gio kept his face impassive. He was determined to keep the upper hand. “He wouldn’t be pleased to hear you’ve been keeping something from us.”

  “But everyone knows that I’m the only scientist in the world who can do what I’m doing, and Sinclair won’t touch me. So, can we stop fucking around and get on with it?”

  Gio appreciated Adam’s direct matter—a stark contrast to most Brits he knew—and nodded. “If your information is valuable, and you can provide proof, then we may have a deal. What do you know that is worth all this finagling?”

  Adams took out his phone, tapped the screen a few times, and turned it toward Gio. “Take a look for yourself.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  As Kiarra stared at the man standing in the doorway, all she could think about was how the resemblance was uncanny.

  From the rough features to the slightly too long blond hair, the man looked just like Ty. Only on closer inspection, when she noticed the lack of a scar through his eyebrow and the straighter nose, did K
iarra realize it was someone else.

  Despite what they’d done to her earlier—hitting her when she’d refused to answer a question—she couldn’t resist asking, “Who are you?”

  The man stared down at her ripped shirt and Kiarra forced herself to remain calm. Partitioning her emotions had been the only way she’d survived so many years of being a guinea pig inside the AMT. As long as she acted detached, male staff members had usually left her alone when they’d realized that she wasn’t the slut her reputation suggested.

  It was strange to think that she’d learned something useful from her stint as a lab rat.

  She focused back on Ty’s double. The man who’d tended her face and bruises a few hours ago had murmured something important about using her split lip and ripped shirt as leverage. True, people seemed to be able to take pictures and instantly send them anywhere in this day and age, but she had a gut feeling that Jaxton was in the same facility, in a room not that far from her own. If she could get Ty’s double to leave within the next ten minutes, the start of the evening meal would give her a small window of time to escape this room and go searching.

  The lookalike finally met her gaze. “I can see why my brother risked his career to fuck you. You might be on the thin side, but your tits more than make up for it.”

  She just caught herself from frowning. “Ty doesn’t have a brother.”

  The double smirked. “That he knows of.”

  What the hell? While a small part of her wanted to know more, Kiarra noted the time and decided it wasn’t worth it. She needed to get this man to leave.

  She forced a bored expression on her face. “Well, as you can see, Ty isn’t here.”

  “He isn’t the one I came to see.” The man strode forward and took Kiarra’s chin in his hand. “You are.”

  The look in his eyes was unsettling, made creepier by the fact that they were the same shade and shape as her former researcher’s. He leaned closer, and when he ran his hand up her arm, the first flutters of panic formed in the pit of her stomach. Only the experiences of the last few weeks, and thoughts of reaching Jaxton, gave her the strength to maintain her bored composure.