by Olivia Ash
“The only reason you’re even alive is because Zurie wants to kill you herself,” he snaps. “The only reason—”
“I sense a pattern here, Carter,” I interrupt. “I mean, look around us. Do you really think Zurie approves of any of this? You’re no Spectre. You’ll never be a Spectre. You’re too much of a coward.”
His grip tightens on my jaw to a painful degree, but I smirk through the pain.
“You hide,” I continue. “You wait. You plot. You ask for help,” I say the word with disdain, as I know Zurie would, just to get under his skin. “You could never face me at full power because you’re weak. You know you would lose, so you do everything you can to stab me when I’m not looking.” I lean toward him despite his rough grip on my jaw. “It’s going to be delightful to watch you break once Zurie tells you the truth.”
“What are you talking about?” he asks, his eyes shifting warily across my face.
I grin. Oh, this poor fool—he doesn’t realize he’s being used. If I’m right, Zurie’s dangling a dream in front of him. By promising him a life as a Spectre, she can ensure she has a loyal drone to do her bidding. At best, however, he’s a backup plan. She doesn’t want to train someone new, not after she poured a lifetime into training someone who’s still alive.
She wants me.
“I guess you’ll see,” I say.
He groans in disgust and throws me to the ground. I recover my balance quickly, never one to stay down long, and watch as he storms toward one of the Humvees. “And get the savages some pants, will you?” Carter adds with a repulsed nod toward Jace and Drew.
“Why?” I prod, smirking. “Jealous of what you see?”
He glares at me and storms back toward me, the fury burning in his eyes. I can see how much he wants to put a gun to my head and pull the trigger. I can see the tunnel vision, the roiling hatred burning in the back of his brain.
It won’t be much longer until I completely break him.
Carter kneels until we’re face to face once more. He grabs a fistful of my hair, drawing me painfully closer to him, and his hot breath rolls against my face. “The moment I get the kill order,” he says in a harsh tone, “a bullet’s going to go through your brain. The less you annoy me, the less painful that’s going to be for you.”
As my scalp screams for mercy, his grip only tightening the longer he holds me, I force myself to sneer in answer. “I guess we’ll have to see which of us has the faster trigger finger.”
After everything he’s done to me and the people I love, I’m really going to enjoy killing him.
He releases me and stands, gesturing to the soldiers around him. “Move out!”
“Rory,” Levi says gently, trying to lean toward me even as the soldiers drag him to his feet. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I say softly. “Just stay alive.”
His jaw tenses as the soldiers drag him away. We share a brief and breathless gaze as they lug him out of my sight and into a nearby Humvee. One by one, they drag my team away.
Things look dire, I won’t lie—but my plan is working. Soon, Carter will be putty in my hands. He’ll make a mistake, and I’ll pounce. I, however, don’t play with my food.
I go straight for the kill.
By the end of the day, that’s what he’s going to wish he’d done to me.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Carter has each of us thrown into a different Humvee. I sit in the backseat, my hands still on the back of my head as eight men train their guns on me. Even the soldier in the passenger’s seat up front twists in his chair, his pistol aimed between my eyes.
I could get out of this, though I would probably get shot in the process. I might even flip the car, and then I would have a harder time figuring out where Carter took the others. Injured, I would have a harder time rescuing them, and he could easily dangle their lives as bait to get me to comply.
For the moment, as much as I hate to do it, I have to play along.
As the vehicle charges through the forest, its tires bounce over the rough terrain. Each jolt throws me off balance, and with my hands on the back of my head, it’s tough to sit upright. More than once, the barrel of a gun jabs me sharply in the face, but I don’t let my annoyance show. I can’t. I remain focused on the road ahead, never so much as flinching as I search for clues on where we’re going.
My primary concern is for Tucker and Irena. Drew is an important political figure, worth a ton of money in a hostage situation. Same for Jace. They won’t kill Levi without knowing more about who he is, given the stature of the other two dragons he was found with.
But Irena—she has a target on her back. Zurie has openly admitted she wants Irena dead.
And Tucker—well, I listened in as Tucker’s father essentially disowned him. Either the General will try to reprogram Tucker’s insubordination out of him using Zurie’s methods, or he’ll shoot my beloved weapons master in the face.
I grit my teeth, tensing at the thought, and my mind buzzes as I grasp for ideas on how I can get us out of this one.
That said, my other three men are all dragons. The Knights aren’t historically fond of the dragon race, so their lives aren’t exactly safe.
Really, we’re all in hot water here.
The vehicle jostles as it hops onto a road. Dust kicks from the tires as it speeds onward, faster than before, toward a giant tunnel carved into one of the nearby mountains.
Oh, joy.
We’re going underground.
I suppress the intense desire to roll my eyes in frustration. This just keeps getting better. Underground means fewer exits—and fewer chances to escape.
After roughly ten minutes of meandering through tunnels, the vehicle screeches to a stop. The soldiers grab my arms and drag me out of the car, throwing me onto the stony ground as they bark orders.
Their voices overlap each other, and try as they might to hide it, I can hear the terror in their voices.
Good. They should be scared.
I take a moment to scan my surroundings. The ceiling stretches above us, arching high overhead. This must be a natural cavern within the mountain, though its walls have been carved into stairways and buildings. Roughly five levels of windows face the center of the giant cavern like the stands of a giant, rocky stadium. The only light comes from rows of fluorescent bulbs embedded every ten feet or so in the rocky wall.
With a shuddering boom, another row of spotlights in the ceiling high above us turn on. It’s like turning on the sun itself, and a flood of light pours down on the center of the room. It cuts through the shadows, revealing a platform that had been shrouded in darkness before. Four polished steps lead to the platform, and I wonder what it could possibly be used for.
The new row of lights reveals a few more details that were shrouded in shadow before. A tidy row of Humvees lines the walls on either side of me, each of them armed with an anti-dragon rifle. To my left, a collection of propane tanks line the wall, roughly twenty feet from the nearest Humvee.
I take in every little detail, hoping something here will be useful later.
First, I need to get my hands on a weapon. A few of the soldiers nearest to me seem like decently easy marks, but the trick is going to be grabbing one of the guns without getting shot by the others in the process.
Seven Humvees pull into the cavern, their engines revving. The barking orders of dozens of soldiers flood the room as the rest of my team is brought in.
I square my shoulders, bracing myself for what’s going to come next.
They’re shoved onto their knees beside me, the six of us in a line facing the platform. I scan their faces, my heart thundering as I look for new injuries. Each of them scans the room, just as I did, and we all look warily at each other.
There’s a way out of this. There always is.
We just have to be clever enough to find it.
I could always bring forth my magic and unload the fury of my dragon on everything around me, but when I’m this vas
tly outnumbered—and still recovering from a hundred-foot fall into the forest—there’s a high risk someone I love will be caught in the crossfire.
Or, worse, shot just to spite me.
I need a plan. A real one. And I’m running out of time to figure things out.
Another car engine revs through the cavern. The hum of tires over the stone gets louder as it approaches, and seconds later, a black sedan screeches to a halt near the platform.
The doors open—and, to my disappointment, Zurie gets out. The Ghost surveys me with cold and compassionless eyes, just as she’s surveyed hundreds of prisoners before. It’s always the same dispassionate look—the bored frown, the relaxed gait, the careless way she surveys the people dragged before her, like they’re nothing but insects to squash. It’s all designed to intimidate, to make her prey revere her like the Reaper himself. I’ve seen grown men grovel before her, begging for mercy, before she even opened her mouth to speak.
I’ve always been at her side in these situations, a step or two behind as she takes command. It’s strange to be on the other end—to be on my knees before her.
I don’t feel the cold dread I thought I would. I don’t feel fear.
Because I see through her.
Sometimes, I wonder if she remembers I can see through her games, or if she thinks these sort of tricks still work on me.
The fact is, however, she got here much faster than I figured she would. That does not bode well for us. I figured we would have at least a little time to organize ourselves before she swooped in to ruin everything.
Damn it.
Moments later, a man I’ve only ever seen in photographs walks around the car from the passenger’s side door. His furious gaze scans the row of prisoners before him and instantly lands on Tucker.
General William Chase.
Tucker’s father.
Zurie’s gaze, however, shifts toward me. If she’s excited about this little reunion of ours, she doesn’t show it. Her lips remain in a grim line, and her cold gaze barely moves. Her eyes do flit briefly to Irena, but again, she shows no emotion.
She never does.
“Bring Rory here.” Zurie snaps her fingers as she stands in front of the platform. “And bring the device.”
Oh, fabulous. There’s a device involved.
This ought to be fun.
Carter grabs my arm and drags me forward, barely letting me get to my feet as he rushes to obey his new master. I stumble for a moment but manage to catch my balance, standing without his help as he guides me toward my former mentor.
Zurie takes a wide stance and crosses her arms as I near, studying my face for something more than just injuries. If I had to wager, I’d say she’s wondering if my magic has fully fused with me yet.
She’s wondering if she can yank it out of me—or if she needs to kill me.
The General doesn’t join Zurie near the platform. He instead stalks toward his son, who has three rifles pointed at the back of his head. The two glare at each other, and I can see Tucker barely restraining a few choice barbs.
I hope he can hold them back. On top of everything else, we really can’t deal with a General’s bruised ego right now.
“Have you had your fun?” the General asks. “Are you bored of your sex toy yet?”
Tucker’s jaw tenses as his eyes narrow with hatred. He looks like he wants to throw a punch at the man’s face—and I figure he might, if not for the fact that the rest of us are being held at gunpoint.
“Why aren’t they shackled?” the General shouts. “Who dropped you idiots on your heads when you were kids? Get the cuffs, morons! You can’t have loose dragons, ever!”
“Yes, sir!” two soldiers nearby say with a salute.
I shake my head in disappointment. Great leadership.
Zurie grabs my jaw and tugs, forcing me to look at her. I indulge her, barely able to restrain how much I want to skewer her with a dagger. I know my hatred shows on my face, but in this heated moment, I just can’t bring myself to care.
“Has it fused?” she asks softly, almost impossibly quiet. “Is it too late?”
I honestly don’t know.
I hope so because I would never give up my dragon or my power.
Even though I don’t answer, Zurie lets out a relieved sigh. She seems to read something in my face that I didn’t mean to give away, and that gave her all the reassurance she needs.
Which is very bad for me.
“What are you doing, Zurie?” I ask disdainfully, trying to stoke the fires between her and the people helping her. “Knights? You despise them.”
“You’re right,” she says under her breath. “Look what you made me do, child. All to drag you back before it’s too late.”
“Before it’s too late?” Carter asks, studying Zurie with a confused expression.
“Silence,” she snaps, not even bothering to look at him.
I smirk, casting a sidelong glance at Carter. “She means before my magic fuses and becomes permanent. She wants me, idiot. Not you.”
“Maybe,” Zurie interrupts with a frown. “If you cause me any more trouble, Rory, it won’t be worth it.”
“Bullshit,” I say, calling her out. “You spent a lifetime training me. He’s sloppy at best,” I add with a nod toward Carter. “You need, what, six years to train him to be even mildly capable? Minimum?”
Zurie’s lips purse in disappointment, confirming I’m absolutely right. Carter’s grip on my arm tightens, enough to cut off circulation as his fingers dig deep into my bicep. Pins and needles bleed into my palm, but I don’t care. It’s worth it to rile him up. It’s worth it to throw him off his game.
“You didn’t think you were getting her job, did you?” I ask him, grinning.
He scowls at me, his right eye twitching as he no doubt refrains from backhanding me again.
Zurie snaps her fingers to interrupt us. “Carter, get the device like I told you to.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he mutters through gritted teeth. He leaves me with Zurie, knowing full well he has enough ammunition trained on my team to kill them if I try anything.
Moments later, he brings a large black box toward the platform and sets it on the platform behind Zurie. I frown, studying it, wondering what could possibly be inside. It’s barely two feet long, with no detail or symbols of note on the box at all.
He opens the hinged lid, and before I can even look inside, I feel like my soul is being dragged from my body. I groan in agony as my heart skips anxious beats. Breathless and gasping for air, I fall to my knees, my limbs suddenly weak.
“Yes,” Zurie says, excited. “Beautiful.”
“What are you doing to her?” Jace snaps. Men grunt, and the metallic clunk of a gun hitting skin cracks through the cavern. I hear several guns cock, and I can practically hear them pressing on their triggers.
“Jace, stop fighting them,” I plead through gasping breaths. “It’s fine. I’m—I’m fine,” I lie.
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to fight the surging nausea of whatever this box is doing to me. Though I feel weaker with each second, I grit through the pain and force myself to my shaky feet.
“Impressive,” Zurie admits, scanning me as I stand. “My contact said you wouldn’t be able to move, but I figured you’re too damn stubborn to stay down.” She sighs, tapping her finger on her jawline as she studies me. “Don’t worry, Rory. This will fix you. I will do what no Ghost has done before, and I will pardon your ridiculous behavior.”
“You can shove your pardon up your ass,” I mutter through gritted teeth, trying my best to remain on my feet.
She sighs with disappointment. “You’ve always been a fighter, Rory. Too obstinate for your own good. I broke you of that once, though—I can do it again.”
I glare at her, hating her too much to speak.
“I’ve come too far to stop now,” she admits, leaning in. “Did you think I’d given up? I bet you were a tad relieved to not see me for a while, weren’t you?” She lau
ghs humorlessly. “Why do you think I had to find the boy to track you down, Rory? I had to go off on a treasure hunt. I had to cash in dozens of favors. Do you know what this cost me?” She nods at the black box on the platform behind her. “You will pay off everything I’ve spent recollecting you. It will take you decades.”
Spots dance along my vision as the box drains the life from me—my magic, my beautiful dragon—and I impulsively stare into its depths to figure out what could possibly have such a powerful effect on me.
Inside the black box is a simple, faceted crystal the size of my head. The magnificent gem lays on a bed of black silk, the soft fabric tucked neatly around it like an elegant nest. The giant stone dances and shimmers with light. With magic.
My magic.
Zurie gestures behind me, toward Irena. “She betrayed us, Rory. She sold us out. She is the only reason any of this has happened. The only reason you were kicked into that pit. It’s time we fix this.” She pauses. “All of it.”
My former mentor hesitates, her eyes shifting across my face as she studies me. I think she’s waiting for some kind of reaction or hint of surprise. She wants to see the hurt on my face, but she’s too late.
Yes, the betrayal still stings.
But I won’t let Irena die.
“Get to the point,” I snap, furious that she’s stalling.
She wants me as weak as possible when she gives me whatever inevitable ultimatum is coming. She wants me on my knees, with none of my magic left, so that my choice is made for me.
What she forgets is how fearsome I am, even without my dragon. She must think I’ve grown soft and dependent, relying on the power in my veins instead of my natural wit.
That mistake is going to cost her dearly.
The thought alone keeps me rooted in place. Though my knees shake with exhaustion as the crystal bleeds me dry, I force myself to remain on my feet.
“You have a simple choice to make,” Zurie says in a chilling tone. “Give up your magic. Kill those men. Kill the traitor that nearly got us both assassinated. Do that, and you will be initiated as a full Spectre. Do that, and you will be deemed my rightful heir and the next Ghost.” She hesitates, a small smile on her face. “It’s everything you ever wanted, Rory.”
