by Kali Argent
Deke and the others would come for them. She just hoped they reached them in time. The underground prison had no windows, but she guessed it was getting close to sundown. Her back and hips ached from sitting on the cold, stone floor for so long, and her stomach ached with hunger. The shackles around her ankles allowed her to stand, but the chains connecting them to the wall only stretched a couple of feet in any direction. A menacing-looking Warden with a shaved head and a perpetual frown had allowed her one bathroom break, watching her the entire time as if she might pull a weapon from her vagina to use on him.
“On your feet,” the guard barked, stomping down the walkway in his giant, black boots. He stopped in front of the bars to Abby’s cell and inserted a key into the lock. “Time to go, princess. Face the wall, hands behind your head.”
“Hey!” Roux shouted, jumping to her feet and pressing against the iron bars of her own cell. “What are you doing? Where are you taking her?”
Abby did as she’d been told without a word of protest. After the Warden released her from the metal shackles, he shoved her ahead of him hard enough to nearly topple her to the ground.
“Leave her alone, asshole!” Pulling against the bindings on her legs did nothing more than chafe the skin, but Roux didn’t care. “Abby, I’m going to get you out, okay? Be brave. You’re strong. You’re going to be okay. I’ll find you. I promise I’ll find you.”
Passing under the naked bulb over the door of Roux’s cage, Abby offered her a small smile. “I know you will.”
The Warden shoved her again, cackling when she jerked and stumbled forward. Within seconds, they’d both disappeared into the shadows at the end of the corridor, leaving Roux alone in her empty, dimly lit prison. She didn’t mind being alone. It was what came next that worried her.
After what she’d seen, and after facing the Ravagers and the Wardens, it seemed ludicrous that she had once thought Deke was a monster. To some degree, she pitied the Ravagers. They hadn’t asked for what had happened to them. In some ways, they were as much victims as the humans.
The Wardens, on the other hand, were simply greedy, high on borrowed power. Without the Diavolos family backing them, they had no authority. Moreover, they took pleasure in causing pain and strife, evident by the ease in which Captain McLemore had disposed of Peter—an innocent who’d simply been standing in her way.
Roux pushed away thoughts of Peter. If she thought about him, broken and bloody, his lifeless eyes staring blankly back at her, she’d fall apart. When she escaped her prison, when she’d fulfilled her promise to find Abby, then she’d allow herself to cry, to scream and rage and let the pain consume her.
She turned her thoughts to Deke. He’s been wounded. How badly, she didn’t know, but she kept reminding herself that he’d been on his feet, still fighting, and he healed quickly. He’d come for her. Hell, he’d move mountains to find her, just as she’d do for him.
Absently, she closed her eyes and traced two fingertips over the scars on her neck. She’d fought him so hard. She couldn’t pinpoint when it had happened, when she’d fallen head over feet for him. It hadn’t been a bright, blinding epiphany, or any one definable moment. Little by little, he’d chipped away at the walls she’d constructed, until one day, she’d woken up to find them nothing more than dust and rubble.
Even before he’d said the words, she’d known he loved her. Of course, she hadn’t been able to admit it, but she’d seen it in the way he looked at her. She’d been resistant, stubborn, as he liked to say, but he’d never pushed. Not once had he been so arrogant as to insist that she trust him, not without reason, but with each promise kept, he’d proven that she could.
He’d taught her to love.
Maybe more accurately, he’d taught her how to love. Not just him, but everyone around her. Deke tried to see the good in people, even when they didn’t deserve it, where she’d always been ready to condemn first and ask questions later. Second chances were rare in life, especially after the Purge, but he’d given her a reason to believe in the impossible.
Relationships and feelings created entanglements she’d once thought she couldn’t afford. Deke had shown her it was okay to care about people, and that she didn’t have to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders. She could share her burdens, others would share theirs, and together, it made the load a little lighter.
She’d see Deke again, and she’d tell him all of those things. Then she’d tell him again. Every day, she’d tell him she loved him, and every day, she’d mean it a little bit more. Because without love, she might survive, but she’d never truly live.
What felt like an eternity later, but in reality had probably been only twenty minutes, hurried footsteps approached her cell. Gathering her courage, she kept a clear picture of Deke in her mind and rose from the stone floor.
“Who’s there?”
The man who appeared beneath the single light—a vampire if she had to guess—wore the uniform of the Wardens, but he was no soldier. Thick, blond hair the color of fresh honey cascaded down his broad shoulders, and flawless, creamy skin stretched over his high, angular cheekbones. Even in the inadequate light, she could see the flecks of gold in his deep brown eyes, and she stood mesmerized in his soulful gaze. He didn’t even look real, but she hadn’t been locked up long enough to be hallucinating.
“Roux Jennings?” His deep voice held just the hint of an accent—though she couldn’t place it—and his cadence flowed like water over smooth stones.
Roux nodded.
“Who are you?” she asked, stepping back when he used a long, black key to unlock her cell door.
“It doesn’t matter who I am. We have to hurry.” Once inside her cell, he knelt to unshackle her ankles, then dropped the ring of keys to the floor in the middle of the cell. “Let’s go. We have to warn Captain Collins.”
“If you plan to inform him that a group of Wardens are going invade the Square, it’s a little late. Been there, done that.”
The vampire shook his head. “Worse,” he answered, “much worse. Now, come on, we have to go.”
Biting her lip, Roux wavered. She didn’t know this guy from the man in the moon. He could be leading her right into a trap, but it seemed like a lot of unnecessary effort. Plus, she had little choice but to trust him. Either she could follow him to some unknown end and hope he was one of the good guys, or she could remain in her cell and wait for another opportunity that might never come.
“Shit. Wait up.”
Half jogging to keep up, Roux followed him through a set of heavy, steel door, up a flight of stairs, and through yet another reinforced door. To her surprise, they stepped out onto the edge of a manicured garden with flowing fountains, decorative stone benches, and twinkling amber lights. Glancing over her shoulder, she found the door they’d just exited set into the trunk of a massive tree and painted to mimic the bark.
“What the…” she mumbled, but she didn’t have time to linger on the peculiarity of it. Maybe it had once been a tool shed before the Purge. Rich people were weird like that.
“Hurry,” her guide hissed. “They probably already know you’re gone.”
“Where the hell are we going anyway?”
“Through the garden and over the back fence. There’s a trail that will lead us to the Bastille.”
“Are you sure about this?”
The vampire nodded. “The guards don’t use the pathway after sundown.”
He sounded confident, so of course, the moment they landed in the dirt on the other side of the fence, four Wardens converged on them. Two guards—one female shifter and a male vampire—bracketed Roux, crowding her on both sides while they held her by the elbows. Two other guards had forced her would-be rescuer to kneel on the ground, and they stood over him, handguns pointed at his head.
“You aren’t having a very good day, are you?” the female guard jeered, squeezing Roux’s arm hard enough to cut off the circulation.
Roux
could barely see in the thin beams of moonlight filtering through the treetops, but she recognized the woman’s voice. She’d been in the Square earlier, the only other female.
“I’d say your captain is the one having a bad day,” Roux shot back with a pleasant smile. “That had to have been the shortest command post in history.”
“Trust me.” Leaning in until her lips brushed against the shell of Roux’s ear, the Warden chuckled. “Where you’re going, you’ll wish you were dead.”
“Nikolai,” a deep, rumbling voice said from the shadows of the trees. “You were always such a disappoint to me.”
“Nikolai?” Roux whipped her head around to stare at the vampire kneeling on the ground. “Nikolai Diavolos? As in, the crown prince of the Diavolos family?”
Nikolai didn’t look at her, didn’t acknowledge her, just stared straight ahead as another man emerged from the darkness. Though a little older, a little harder looking, Roux could easily see the family resemblance.
The king held himself with an air of privilege, and everything about him screamed of pretentiousness, right down to his shiny loafers. The suit he wore hugged him like a second skin, contouring to his well-built frame. Though older—his long locks looked more gray than blonde in the moonlight—he was every bit as handsome as his son.
He was also a murdering psychopath, so he had that going for him as well.
“Put her with the others,” the king said with a flick of his wrist in Roux’s direction. “I’ll deal with my son.”
Calmly, as though they were discussing nothing more extraordinary than the weather, he pulled a pair of pliers from the front pocket of his suit jacket. At his nod, the Wardens holstered their weapons and surrounded Nikolai, holding him immobile while forcing his mouth open to reveal long, sharp fangs.
“You’ve tested me for the last time,” the king added with a wicked smile as he approached his son. “This is going to hurt you more than it hurts me.”
“No! Stop it!” Roux jerked against her captors’ hold.
She couldn’t blame Nikolai for his father’s sins any more than she could blame Gabriel for what the Ravagers had done to the city. From what she could tell, he’d been terrorized by his father as much as anyone, and for a hell of a lot longer than the rest of the town.
He’d tried to help her, to free her. He wanted to warn Deke. Maybe it had all been an act, but her gut told her she could trust him.
“It’s okay.” Nikolai’s voice sounded tight, but he didn’t struggle. “It doesn’t matter what he does to me.”
“Get her out of here!” the king barked before bending toward Nikolai.
The last thing Roux heard as the guards dragged her away was the prince’s agonized scream.
* * * *
Sticking to the edges of the tree line, Deke crept through the forest, his black pelt seamlessly blending into the night. He moved swiftly, his paws making no sound against the soft dirt. Twice, he lifted his head to sniff at the air, but he found nothing out of place. Not many of Trinity Grove’s residents had ventured out of their homes during the day, and none of them would risk being caught out past curfew.
Nearing the armory, he crouched lower, his tail flicking in agitation when he caught the scent of not two, but five, guards patrolling the old jail. He identified two shifters, two vampires, and a werewolf. Pressing even lower to the ground, his ears twitching as he closed his eyes and listened.
Five heartbeats. The fastest pulse came from behind the brick-faced building, probably the werewolf. Two hearts pumped much slower than the others—definitely vampires. The rhythmic thumping of the vampires’ heartbeats sounded fainter than the rest and likely came from inside the building. That only left the two shifters at the front of the old sheriff’s station.
The rumbling of a car engine echoed off the trees and vibrated the ground beneath his feet. A moment later, headlights flared, illuminating the faded sign over the entrance of the jail. As soon as Deke spotted the SUV pulling into the cracked, weed-strewn parking lot, he bolted for the back of the station, flying over the ground in long, fluid strides.
He caught the werewolf at the corner of the building, dispatching him quickly, just as gunfire erupted through the night. His claws clacked against the aged asphalt as he sprinted for the front entrance to help Lynk. One shifter lay dead fifteen feet from the vehicle, while the other shook his gun, slamming his palm against it in an attempt to unjam it.
When he spotted Deke, he abandoned the rifle for his dagger and lowered himself into a fighting stance, unwittingly exposing his back to Lynk. Mentally shaking his head at the stupidity, Deke cut to the left and leapt into the air, landing on one of the vampires who had burst through the door during the commotion.
Only one remained.
After retrieving two duffle bags from the SUV, Lynk met him in the entryway. “Stay behind me and stick close to the walls. With any luck, he won’t even see you coming.”
Deke chuffed his understanding before slinking into the sheriff’s station. Once inside, he veered to the right, hugging the wall a few feet behind Lynk. Together, they crept around the welcome desk and through the bullpen to the gun closet in the back corner of the station.
When they met no resistance, Deke nipped at Lynk’s pant leg, tugging the lieutenant to a stop. Unable to communicate in his current form, he stretched his long body out of the ground and closed his eyes, hissing and snarling as the change came over him. His bones crunched, his muscles twisted, and the hair receded from his body. After a painful few seconds, he pushed up to sit against the wall, panting and shaking from the pain.
“Where’s the other vampire?” he asked through gritted teeth.
Lynk shook his head as he dug through one of the duffle bags, producing a pair of cargo pants and a T-shirt, along with a pair of socks and black boots. “I can smell him.” He pointed in the direction of the old holding cells. “That way. It doesn’t make sense.”
Deke shook his head. “This was too easy.” Lifting his nose, he sniffed at the air while he pulled on his clothes. “There’s blood.”
“I know.”
The coppery scent of blood hung heavy through the station, but the air directly around them seemed more saturated than it should have been. In fact, if he didn’t know better, he’d say it was coming from Lynk.
“You hit?”
Turning to face him, Lynk pulled down the collar of his T-shirt to reveal a jagged, bloody opening in his shoulder. “Clean shot, right through. It’s already healing.”
“You good?”
Lynk released his collar so that it fell back into place. “I’m good.”
“Then let’s find our fanged friend, grab the guns, and get the fuck out of here.”
“They took the guns,” a deep, male voice answered, reverberating through the dark hallways.
Indicating Lynk should follow him by jerking his head to the side, Deke crept toward the sound of the voice to the holding cells on the west end of the building. A single, LED lantern sat in front of one of the cell doors, creating a large circle of light that glinted off the walls and floor. Tall, blond, and covered in blood, the vampire stood close to the iron bars, his arms resting limply through the slats.
“Captain Collins,” he said in greeting when they entered the holding area. He turned his head and spat on the floor, covering the gray cement with a fresh splatter of blood. “Lieutenant Foster. I’m Nik—”
“I know who you are,” Deke interrupted. With a loud growl, he lunged forward, grabbing the prince by his shirt and yanking him forward so that his face slammed into the bars. “You did this. Your family. All of this is your fault.” He repositioned his right hand, curling his fingers around the vampire’s neck. “Where is Roux? Tell me where she is!”
“She’s on her way to the Ravagers’ den,” Nikolai answered calmly. “I can take you there.”
“Or, you can just tell us. Then we leave you here to rot.” Lynk stepped into
the circle of light and smirked. “But it looks like someone already beat us to it.”
Slowly, Deke released his grip on Nikolai’s throat. While it would give him a great deal of satisfaction to kill the prince, he needed answers. More than that, he needed to find his mate, and he couldn’t trust that any information the vampire gave him would lead him to her.
“Why are you here?”
“Because I tried to help Roux escape. We were caught, and I was punished.” He opened his mouth and tilted is head back, revealing gaping holes where his fangs should have been.
“But why here?” Lynk questioned. “Why this place?”
“They knew you’d come looking for the armory. They know you’ll go after the females. That’s what they want.”
Deke shook his head. “So, you’re here to purposely lead us to the Ravager camp?”
Giving him a crooked smile, Nikolai nodded. “Either that, or you kill me. Either way would please my father.”
It still didn’t make sense, and Deke was quickly losing patience. “Tell me what the fuck is going on, or I swear to everything holy, I will gut you where you stand.”
“I’ve been watching you,” Nikolai admitted. “I needed to know if you were in my father’s pocket like the others. I needed to know I could trust you.” He turned his gaze to Lynk. “All of you. The Revenant.”
“How do you know about the Revenant?” Deke demanded.
“Everyone knows,” he answered ominously. “My father and his Wardens have been sacrificing people to the Ravagers for a long time. Just a few here and there to keep them out of the city, but something changed.” Holding his hands up when Deke growled, Nikolai shook his head. “I don’t know what, but something happened. That’s when the attacks started again.”
“The bodies,” Deke mumbled. “Those were vampire attacks. We saw the wounds.”
Nikolai lifted one golden eyebrow, and his grin turned almost sad. “Captain, the Ravagers aren’t purely wolves. Some are hybrids, and they’re more dangerous than anything you’ve seen. They’re not rabid beasts. They’re smart, calculating, and absolutely fearless.”
