Damnit.
Rebel Leader had detailed his plans before blindfolding me again and leading me away from the Fae hideout. Precautions, he had said, and I understood. Trust and blind trust were two very different things.
The whole group had tailed us, and I had felt their eyes on me when I burst into my lion. I had worried that I would scare or at least intimidate them, but they handled the change well. Most were fairly neutral—widened eyes and a couple cautious pats. Caspar had immediately started scratching my ears and cooing about “what a good kitty” I was. The smirk on Nevaeh’s lips had me glaring in her direction.
Now, several long hours later, the men of the Rebellion awaited my signal.
I killed some time scouting out The Pit. When a shifter strolled outside and cast a scowl in my direction, I tensed. My first visit seemed to have scared a few of them off—unsurprising, since Mordecai had announced the executions of a few shifters that morning. I wasn’t even sure if he had the right ones. He wouldn’t care, and everything was a bit too fresh for me to be entirely comfortable. Too many still ran free. Or maybe not enough, with the violent streak Mordecai was on. Maybe he would simply kill us all.
After I assumed enough time had passed, I leapt from the building and climbed into the air. This time when I glided by the mansion, the lights were off. Time to go. I flapped once, heading back toward the ruined, crumbling section of shifter territory—my sacrifice to the mission, offering Rebel Leader a closer place to hide but outing my little sanctuary. They had marked a rooftop with a single candle. When I located the small flicker of light I stopped, hovered, glanced around as though surveying the area. Seconds passed. A minute. The candle blinked out and I flew to the mansion.
The large backyard was silent. I shifted, the wet grass slick under my human feet. For the first time my exposed skin felt like a vulnerability as I glanced up at Mordecai’s dark bedroom window.
With trembling fingers, I pulled a key from the hidden spot along the fence. My presence here wasn’t abnormal, I reminded myself. All I had to tell Mordecai was that I’d been hungry mid-patrol and he would leave me be—that wasn’t a new excuse. Right on cue my stomach growled. I hadn’t eaten since yesterday, now that I thought about it. The men had been kind and generous, but the idea of ingesting tomatoes, broccoli, onions, peppers . . . I gagged.
Snatching a granola bar from the kitchen was the work of a minute. I scarfed it down while I waited and, when I returned from tossing the wrapper in the trash, the men—and an already-shifted Nevaeh—were crowded on the back doorstep. I carefully slid the locks loose, one after the other until I could slowly ease the door open.
We were doing this.
No going back now.
My chest tightened. I took a breath, plastering on a grin before I swung the door open. “About time,” I teased.
Caspar shouldered his way in first. I relaxed a little. His calm demeanor set my nerves at ease. Or, at least a little. He mock-scowled at me. “Reagan, this is no time for joking. Get your head in the game.”
I smirked. “Why so serious?”
Sebastian came next, eyes narrowed on us. “Are the two of you going to be a problem? Because I’ll separate you if I have to.”
“Shhh, Sebastian,” I whispered, pressing a finger to my lips and flashing him a smirk. As I glanced behind me I added, “You’re going to get us caught.”
He sighed, blond hair falling across his face as he shook his head, then, “You’re right. From here on in, complete radio silence. Hand signals only.” The group around us groaned and he jerked up a fist. They fell silent.
I raised an eyebrow. “But wait, I don’t know the—”
Sebastian raised his hand again. My jaw snapped shut. Caspar patted me on the head. “Good kitty,” he mouthed.
Flynn stepped past him, eyeballing me for a moment before he shoved a wad of material in my arms. Oh. Point taken. I flicked the locks closed behind us before I dressed. The corner of my lip lifted at the sight of them painstakingly averting their gazes.
I stepped in front of Sebastian, waving my hand exuberantly. He rolled his eyes, but followed. I had to admit, I was impressed by how quietly they moved. In an afternoon, all I had seen from this group was frenzy. Chaos. For the sake of what we had to accomplish, I was grateful they were disproving my doubts. And I was doubly grateful when Akeno whipped out a lock picking set as we hit the door to the mines.
The looping staircase was silent except for our soft footsteps. That familiar tug jerked at my stomach as we stepped into the dimly lit cavern. Mordecai didn’t bother with more than a few lights in this chamber—he rarely used it. When I looked toward the hallway where I knew the Fae were trapped, my stomach plummeted.
Tarik’s alive, he has to be alive . . .
I pulled my hair into a tie, glancing back at the men behind me. Their eyes were wide, and Caspar nudged me. Jabbing his finger at the long hallway, he mouthed, “Creepy.” I nodded.
Nevaeh clambered onto my shoulder, her tiny rat claws poking at my skin. We crept to the far wall where the shadows were slightly denser, and I paused to listen. I shot a glance at Nevaeh for confirmation. Nothing, except the few soft shuffles from our own group.
We crept closer. My heart was going to leap from my throat. When we heard quiet noises ahead, it certainly tried. Nevaeh darted from her perch and dashed down the curved hallway, out of sight. I started to follow, but Sebastian gripped my arm, holding up a finger. My jaw clenched in protest. This was what she did, I reminded myself. Helped them, spied for them, as she had been doing for nearly three years. The news was still a shock to my system.
Only a few moments passed before the purple rat reappeared, rapid-shifting into human form as she approached. She motioned with two fingers to the right side where the crystal cavern’s first entrance was.
Two what?
Akeno began to pass out tiny straws before I could ask. Straws? My trembling stilled, replaced with pure shock. He offered me a little cloth pouch filled with . . . darts? I arched an eyebrow incredulously and he grinned. Raising one, he demonstrated, slipping the dart inside and pretending to blow toward Sebastian. I bit back a chuckle, but loaded my own.
Soft chatter echoed from down the hallway. Guards, in human form. Flynn slipped past our group, clinging to the lessening shadows. A slight hiss echoed down the corridor, and then a tiny pop. The dart sank into the guard’s neck. Flynn repeated the action before the first guard finished falling, but none of us were fast enough to stop them from collapsing with a loud thump. No one moved. Nevaeh shifted again, but even she waited, ears twitching rapidly.
Two more guards rounded the corner. Akeno shot at the same time as Flynn, their darts passing each other as they met their marks. Flawless. Almost too easy. Another two guards went down, then three more. I crept ahead of the rest and bit back a yelp when sharp pain lanced through my foot. Akeno slipped forward, plucking a shiny object from the ground—a dart, similar to ours but made of glass and steel. He examined the side for a moment, his brow wrinkled, before he glanced up at me. Pressing his hands together, he mimicked a sleeping pose—a tranquilizer dart. In the hallway? I glanced down the length of the corridor. Had one of the Fae escaped?
My stomach churned. Tarik?
We stopped in front of the “for emergencies only” room, and I started to wave the men over when a ripple of shadow on the steel door caught my eye. I knelt, pressing my fingers against the small dents. The others looked as confused as I felt. Why would there be dents on the outside of the door? What had Mordecai done?
One of the twins—I needed to get them ID bracelets—mouthed “Whoa” and flexed, pointing at the door. I nodded in agreement. Caspar unslung a pouch from his back, tugging out what looked like a miniature laptop along with several small silver instruments.
“I need time,” he mouthed at us. “Keep watch.”
Sebastian pointed at various spots along the hallway, then swirled a finger in the air. When no one responded, he rolled
his eyes and repeated the gesture, brow furrowed. He rapidly pointed in all directions and flicked his hands in a shoo gesture. Oh. The men dispersed, each finding a lookout spot.
Caspar flipped open the small computer, attaching wires to the keypad of the lock. Lines of numbers filled his screen as a bright red light blinked on above the door. The light shifted, squares falling away until a number remained.
3:00
And counting down.
Behind me, Sebastian swore softly, motioning for the others to stay where they were. Caspar’s amber eyes flicked up. “Well, that’s just splendid,” he muttered, his focus on the screen renewed with vigor.
I paced the hallway, the quiet throwing my nerves into a frenzy. Three minutes. Caspar could beat that if the mines stayed undisturbed, right? This couldn’t be all, though. Did Mordecai really think himself so untouchable? Did he really believe everyone was so afraid of him? Alec had told me stories growing up, tales of the great black dragon who had taken to the skies to “rid us of the Fae overlords.” Stories were biased to the side that told them. The older I grew, the clearer that became.
“Any luck?” I asked Caspar quietly.
He shook his head. “That time limit is bad news. I’m entering codes manually to speed the process, but I’m not sure we want to know what will happen if we can’t figure this out.”
Blood pounded in my ears. I looked up at the timer. 2:00. “You need more combinations?”
“As many as you can think of.”
“I may be able to do you one better.” I slipped to where Elias stood, watching the crystal cavern. Earlier, he had been reading a book about quantum relativistic theories. If Caspar—who had been locked in conversation with him about the subject—couldn’t figure this out, maybe Elias could.
“Can you go help Caspar? He’s trying to speed up the process, and he’s running out of numerical combinations.”
Elias’ blue eyes lit with gratitude. “Glad to help.”
Leaning against the rough wall, I took his post, watching as the two men puzzled over the combination. I started to pace again. All of fifteen seconds passed before I let my feet carry me back to them, listening as they frantically threw codes out.
1:00.
“Anything?”
“No,” Caspar whispered, voice strained. “Literally thousands of numbers and nothing yet. The code is eight digits. I can’t imagine what he used.”
Eight digits . . . Oh. Surely he wouldn’t. I licked my dry lips. “Try 08252021.”
“That seems fairly specific,” Elias said, glancing up at me.
“It’s my date of birth.”
Caspar arched an eyebrow. “Well, aren’t we cocky?”
“Try the combination,” I growled. My fingers tightened into fists that shook at my sides. Mordecai would truly have to be a monster to use my birth date—like it meant something to him. Like I meant something to him.
“Oh damn, we’re in.”
Sebastian shot a quizzical look in my direction as he moved to help Elias push the steel door aside. Caspar hurriedly put away his tech. Nevaeh shifted beside me, pulling lavender hair out of her face. We all flinched, stepping backward as blinding light filled the hallway. Our eyes took several long, agonizing seconds to adjust, but when they did—
Damn. The room was filled, almost wall to wall, with Fae strapped down to cots.
Too easy. This all felt too easy.
I scanned the rectangular space and shoved my apprehension to the back of my mind. The others filed past me to unstrap the helpless Fae, but my senses shut off.
“He’s not in here,” I muttered.
Nevaeh gripped my arm. “What?”
“Tarik. He’s not in here.” I searched the room again, straining to look past the Fae being helped to their feet. No shock of red met my eyes, no snarky remarks about wanting to be released. Bile rose in my throat. What had Mordecai done to him? Was I too late?
Elias wrenched a gray curtain aside at the back of the long room, paused, then strode toward Sebastian, saying, “He’s not here.”
“What?” Sebastian whisper-yelled and Caspar shushed him. The mission leader turned frantic eyes our way. “Nevaeh, see if he’s down here.”
Nevaeh nodded stoically, squeezing my arm before she shifted. She raced into the hall, nose twitching as she tried to find a scent. After a moment, she let out a short squeak and I trailed her to the lab room, Elias at my heels. We searched the room frantically but there was nothing. No trace of him. My eyes burned as Nevaeh shifted again, rapping her fist on a small section of wall. “He’s in here.”
I stared at her, but Elias moved forward. “How do you know?”
“I can hear him breathing.”
Relief washed over me, stained by resounding terror. What hell had Mordecai inflicted on him that he was alone in a hidden room?
Maybe this was why security was so lax. Mordecai must have assumed that if I tried anything I wouldn’t find the one Fae I couldn’t leave without, so he would have time to apprehend me.
Elias pushed at the edges of the wall, looking for a way in. I stepped forward, pressing on a few different stones. Nothing happened. There didn’t seem to be a switch. I growled in frustration, slamming my foot into the wall. Pain shot through the already angry leg and I swore softly.
But the panel opened.
Blinding light filled our eyes. I blinked rapidly, desperate to clear my vision, desperate to know for sure.
The room was small, but Tarik . . .
Tarik was here.
Tears sprang to my eyes. Mordecai had stripped him bare. Anger rippled through me, knowing what that meant to the Fae, how he must have felt. He was sprawled over a small cot, wings spread wide cramped and twisted in a way that looked painful. His arms were strapped down.
My attention fell to his legs. Ice slammed into my veins, and a sob shuddered through me.
That animal, that monster, that . . . the rainbow of words that assaulted my senses were nothing compared to the agony that ripped open my chest. My hands slid to my mouth.
Tarik’s legs laid at awkward angles on the crimson stained sheets, a mess of blood and bruises. Devastation. Utter devastation. I scanned the room and, when I caught sight of the silver tray nearby, my tears fell unrestrained.
A hammer.
Mordecai had beaten him, broken his limbs, abused and tortured him far beyond what he had done to the other Fae. I had known, or suspected he would, but this . . . My heart crumbled. How could he do this? Elias and Nevaeh had moved past me to unstrap his arms. I crept closer, sitting tentatively on the edge of the cot.
A small red spot caught my eye and I gently lifted Tarik’s wrist so I could examine the mark. A dragon’s eye. I thought of the brand on my neck. That rage flared again. This one was personal, to him and me both.
Mordecai had attacked Tarik because of me.
Because he assumed I meant something to Tarik.
I knew, and I had done nothing. Could do nothing. I didn’t want to look down, to examine his legs more carefully. Even from the door I could tell the damage was beyond my abilities to heal, and the helplessness that welled up was suffocating. Still, I prodded gently at the wounds, confirming my worst suspicions. Fire surged through my veins, burning away my sadness. This was wrong. And I wasn’t going to stand by and let this happen again. To anyone.
“Are they broken?” Elias asked, breaking my thoughts. His face was pale. When I nodded, he held up a finger, stepping out of the room. Nevaeh and I exchanged a glance when the sound of aggressive vomiting reached our ears.
“Can you help him sit up? We need to see how aware he is.” Nevaeh jerked her head toward the door. “I’ll check on Elias. We can tell Sebastian.”
I nodded gratefully. She stepped around me, her quiet chatter filling the lab. Turning my attention back to Tarik, I brushed a finger up his arm. The muscles quivered under my touch, a small reassurance.
“Tarik?” I whispered softly, leaning closer to his face. �
��Can you hear me?”
His head turned slowly in my direction. He swallowed, then grimaced as though even that small action pained him. I waited, barely breathing as his eyes cracked open. Vivid, beautiful green. My heart skittered when they landed on me.
“Stalker,” he breathed.
The corner of my mouth quirked, but the tears renewed. I ignored them and reached out a tentative finger, brushing his forehead gently as I pushed away stray locks of hair. “Can you sit up? I’ll help you.”
He tried to smile and failed. “Oh, sure. No problem.” His arms shook as he propped himself up on an elbow, teeth clenched tight.
“Pull, and I’ll lift you.” I looped his arm around my waist, waiting until his fingers gripped my side to wrap my own around him, careful not to brush his wings as I tugged. When he was upright, I asked, “Can you tuck in your wings?”
A weak laugh left him and he flinched. “You ask a lot out of a guy, but since you’re trying to—” He hissed as he caught sight of his brutalized legs, then wrenched his gaze away. “Yeah. One sec.”
I waited, watching him struggle for a long, agonizing minute before his wings finally retracted.
“Thank you,” I whispered, shuffling myself around to face him. For a moment I simply watched him breathe, grateful, so grateful that he still did. I wanted to ease his pain—but what could I possibly do to fix this nightmare?
As my eyes darted over his face, I realized there might be one small consolation I could offer. Maybe I couldn’t help his pain, or heal him, but maybe I could start making this right. Carefully, I tilted his chin up, sliding my hands up to his cheeks. His expression was curious when I gently kissed his nose. I pressed my forehead to his. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wouldn’t leave you be. I’m sorry I bit you. I’m sorry he did this to you. I’m . . . I’m so sorry, Tarik. For everything.”
His eyes slid closed and he sighed, leaning into my touch. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. But I’ll take it all the same.”
“You didn’t deserve this,” I murmured, rubbing a thumb over the soft stubble that graced his jaw. “I’ll make this right. I don’t know how, but I will.”
Dawn till Dusk: An Urban Fantasy Romance (Genesis Crystal Saga Book 1) Page 17
