A portal popped up, and I moved back into the hallway. Kevin’s cruel voice rang out, “What are you two talking about? Is the last batch done?” There was a slamming noise, and then the woman squeaked. “If you two don’t finish this last batch ASAP, I’m going to make sure that every single person related to you by blood will die horribly in a freak natural disaster. Do you hear me?”
The male piped up, “This batch is so big, it’s not like the others. We want to make sure the ratios are right. All the others were to test it out, but now we need to make sure it works on a much larger scale.”
Kevin pushed into his space, their noses touching. “I don’t give a shit. Each beaker is going to be released in all the clubs, the strip, and casinos. It doesn’t need to be fucking perfect, but it does need to spread and spread fast. Get to it!”
They eagerly replied, and Kevin sighed before his steps sounded like they were coming in my direction. “I just fed our prisoners, so I won’t be back for a few hours. Get your work done!”
I looked around, not seeing any shadows in this room to hide in when I noticed the ceiling was low. Maybe... . The steps grew louder, and I knew I couldn’t get caught. I didn’t care about facing punishment with my uncle, but if I was late coming home to Rayla... my heart raced and sweat lined my brow. I did not want that.
I made a quick, and possibly stupid, decision as I crouched down, letting my shadows and smoke come off me, and they covered me just as Kevin approached the hallway. I envisioned what the top of the ceiling would look like, hoping there was a crawl space and it wasn’t just solid stone as I transported myself.
My eyes were screwed tight as I took in a breath and then opened them to a large, open, rocky cave with beams and ceiling tiles below my feet. There was a large metal box at the end with familiar magic encasing it, and I took an educated guess that must be where he was keeping the bosses locked up.
I checked my watch and realized I had time to check it out—scope out the details before I ran back home and informed Rayla. That gave me pause, knowing when I came back to tell her what I knew she would go to war with my uncle much sooner than I’d anticipated. I thought I had more time to decide, to figure out things between us, because I knew she would tell the others, and they would hate me. How was that going to work in our little mate group? I’m positive Rayla wouldn’t let them kill me, hell, I wouldn’t let them kill me, but it would make being with her exponentially harder.
I flashed back to that night that my uncle grabbed me and hiked it out of there so fast with tears streaming down my face as he told me they wanted to kill me. It was the worst night of my life. The people my father loved hated me and wanted to get rid of me, and I had no one. No one but my uncle.
What he was doing was wrong. The drugging and testing on supes, but the Syndicate wasn’t the beacon for heroism, either. We’re all bad guys in this story. Selfish, cruel, bloodthirsty. We all have a darkness that can’t be quenched. He might not be a good uncle, I might’ve had a horrible childhood, but at least I was still here because of him. That had to count for something, right?
While my heart told me to fuck the world other than Rayla, my brain kept circling those memories. I shook my head, knowing I didn’t have time for this. I needed to deal with one issue at a time on this one because making a mistake could cost me my happily ever after, and villains only got that opportunity once in a lifetime.
I transported myself into the hallway before the metal box, just in case. As soon as I stood up, I heard voices.
“I’m not eating that shit! That little blown up mage fucker can just eat his own shit and die. Next time he comes in here, I’m spitting this blood in his face.” The voice was animated and authoritative, which sounded like Ternin Desmond.
A calm steady voice reminded him, “So if it’s poisoned, like you said, you would still get it in your mouth, essentially poisoning yourself, just to spit it out at him?” That was most definitely Falcon’s father, Easton Winstale.
Ternin grubbled, “I never said it was a perfect plan.”
“How do the kids sing it again... Duuuumb waaays to Diiiieee!”
A yelp followed right after. “Shut up, Sy. You’re not helping.” That growly, deep baritone must belong to Manic Rossey, which meant that the songbird was Syris Glovefox.
There was a clanging of metal hitting metal and a roar of frustration. “East, are you sure about your premonition. I don’t like... being confined like this.”
“No,” he replied with ease. “I told you that this was either the fastest way for us to die, or the only way we can make the Syndicate whole again. Ternin and Sy wanted to risk it while you were on the fence, so we went with it. Two against one.”
Manics rage came out as he bellowed, “What about your vote!?”
He answered matter-of-fact, “You know that I can’t vote, it was my own premonition.”
“One that’s only five seconds long!”
“Anyway”—Ternin interrupted Manics panic attack—“I think when we get back, I want to try that 1787 Château Margaux. To celebrate, of course, and to get the rancid taste of this chemical plant out of my mouth. It’s disgusting.”
“I second that!” Syris chirped, and I rolled my eyes.
So this was how the leaders of the Syndicate spent their time being kidnapped—complaining and whining one moment and then talking about the future they didn’t know they would have the next. They really were in retirement mode.
I stepped around the corner, and they were jailed behind a wall of steel bars. Four plates at the edge had not been touched. The sizzle and crackle of magic that was the barrier was stronger than any I had ever seen before.How the fuck were they going to do this?
“Vincent! Gods, he was so fucking smug. I knew we should’ve killed him a long time ago, but Rathe thought he would come around, wouldn’t cause any more trouble.” Ternin looked up at the ceiling, glaring like it was all the ceiling’s fault. “Well, look where we are now, buddy? Was it worth your brotherly love? If you could only see the shitstorm we’re in today.”
I entered by transporting in front of the cell, and all four barely glanced in my direction. I didn’t know why I said it, I just knew his threat rubbed me the wrong way and made all the things my uncle said seem true and Rayla’s words sugared. “So, that’s how you solve all your problems? Kill whoever’s in the way. A brother is no problem, so I bet killing a son would be a piece of cake?” It was petty and hypocritical, I knew that, but it didn’t stop the pain in my heart, the pain at thinking these four men were my father’s closest friends.
I thought he would defend himself or tell me to fuck off, but, instead, Ternin’s eyes widened as he stood like he was seeing a ghost. “Lex?”
I smirked, even if my insides didn’t feel it, I didn’t want to show these men weakness. “That’s right, Ternin, or is it Boss Desmond? That’s what they call you, right?”
