“We can always buy some flannel and camo at the next gun store.”
Christian reached behind us and pulled the shade out so he could see the road.
I just didn’t understand why anyone would go to great lengths to get their hands on these kids. Then again, people who lived outside the law did all kinds of crazy shit. My stomach turned when I thought about the last caravan transporting children to this location.
Not a single one had made it through alive.
Chapter 11
Gem’s lungs ached and burned as she coughed up water. She gasped for air, but the process was like breathing for the first time. Now she knew why newborn babies cried. Expelling every drop seemed like an impossible feat, as if the water lived inside her. With her face to the floor, she retched. Water gushed out, throwing her into another coughing fit. Her throat hurt, her nose burned, and all she could do was sit there and tremble.
“You were out a long time,” a man said.
She peered up through her stringy hair. A man with a broad chest was sitting on a short stool, peeling a red apple. The tattoos on his biceps looked Polynesian, but his features weren’t of that origin. Gem had spent many years researching cultures, and she even knew how physical features evolved through the centuries among a people, especially as strangers began migrating to new lands. His eyes were narrow and unkind, and when he sneered, he revealed gaps between his teeth. Something about his features felt distinctly Mongolian or perhaps Tibetan. His bronzed skin was aged by hardship and not time, so she couldn’t discern how old he was.
She lowered her head, palms on the ground, and coughed up more water.
“Unpleasant, isn’t it?” He gave a haughty laugh. “Young immortals know nothing about survival. You are so ill-equipped and weak that you would have never survived in my time.”
Gem sat back and shuddered. The last thing she remembered was struggling for air in the pool, but this wasn’t the same man who had held her down. She tried to speak, but the undulation of her fragile throat muscles forced out another cough.
The man ate a slice of his apple, watching her with great amusement. “Who am I? Where are you? Right? Let us start from the beginning. My given Mage name is Cyrus, but it is not my birth name. I was once part of a nomadic tribe under the rule of Genghis Khan. We fought many great battles and earned the right to inherit this world. Even as mortals, we refused to die. We drank the blood of our horses to keep from starving. I was a good hunter, but I was an even better warrior.” Cyrus studied his knife for a painfully long moment. “My Creator forced immortality on me, but I turned that curse into a gift. You see, white men know nothing of the seeds they sow with their wickedness.” He sliced off another wedge of apple and savored it. “One day, they will reap everything they deserve.”
Gem tried to figure out where she was, but the room provided no clues. Cyrus was sitting with his forearms resting on his knees. She briefly eyed the sharp blade in his hand before averting her gaze to the four walls. Lanterns hung from them, so this was probably his perverted dungeon in the city. Unless they were in the Bricks. Just the thought of it gave her the heebie-jeebies. That would make escape impossible without fighting off other rogues, especially if this dwelling was underground.
“Nikodemos hasn’t told you about me, has he?” Cyrus inquired. “Very sneaky, that one. He is loyal to no one but himself. Always keeping secrets, even from those with whom he breaks bread. I know this all too well, for Nikodemos once betrayed me.”
Gem swallowed hard and curled her legs beneath her red gown. She couldn’t shake the cold, and her skin looked ashen. “Why am I here?” she managed to say.
Cyrus kept his eyes on the apple he continued slicing. “You’re not a good listener, are you? Arcadius—the man who captured you—has a special gift that allows him to use his energy to breathe underwater. Like a Mage scuba suit. Is that what they call those contraptions around their heads? The only way to capture you quietly and efficiently was to render you unconscious. Lucky for us, you’re a creature of habit. Though you haven’t been sticking to your routine these past few weeks, have you?”
Gem thought about her nightly swims. Had this man been watching her? “You drowned me.”
He studied his knife. “Drowning is an illusion to a Mage. Your core light simply won’t allow it. But I can see you’ve lived a sheltered life. Ancients like me have tested the boundaries of our own existence. We’ve been hanged, shot, disemboweled, drowned, and even partially burned.” Cyrus sliced off the last chunk from his apple and ate it.
Gem scooted away from him in case he had a mind to use that knife on her.
“The one thing you can’t do without is your head,” he pointed out. “Just ask that man of yours with all the lip rings.”
Her stomach dropped. “Hooper?”
“I cannot respect a man who grovels and begs for his life.”
Gem’s rage circulated through her body like a fiery cyclone gathering speed. “Youkilled Hooper?”
Cyrus set the knife down and nibbled on the meat of the apple around the core. The smile in his eyes tipped her over the edge.
Gem cupped her hands to form a destructive ball of energy and drew back her arm as if she were going to pitch him a baseball. But nothing happened. Then she noticed the absence of light from within. She felt as cavernous as the Grand Canyon. “What did you do to me?” Horror swept over her when she thought about Raven’s gift as a Stealer. Had this man rendered her mortal by removing her core light? He couldn’t be using his Mage gifts to suppress her energy. That would be impossible since she was a Blocker and immune to such gifts.
Cyrus tossed the apple core on the ground and spit out a seed. He studied her for a long moment. “I wonder what you might do with that hand if you had your power. Hmm, little Mage?”
She clenched her fist and stared defiantly at him. “My friends will come for me, and when they do, you’ll be sorry.”
Cyrus tossed back his head and laughed. “You watch too many movies. You’re starting to sound like one of those pathetically hopeful characters who believes goodness always prevails.”
Gem stared at the floor and squeezed her eyes shut.Thiswas the man who’d taken Hooper’s life? Was his heartless laugh the last thing Hooper had heard? She’d never wanted to kill someone with her bare hands until this moment. Just when she thought she’d let go of the pain, his confession had reawakened it on a whole new level.
“See that cuff on your ankle?” he asked.
