There was a large crash in the distance, and an alarm started to wail. Lachlan lifted up his binoculars in time to see something red and silver streak out of a cloud of darkness, wrap around a guard tower, and shred it like wire through soft clay.
"Holy shit, Valentine is popping off, and Kill is hiding him. Let's go," Lachlan said, putting the binoculars back in their pouch on his belt. Ciara was already clipping the chain link fence. Lachlan followed her and Tor through onto the grounds. He noted cameras on the walls of ruins, but he had to trust that Layla was on top of it.
There was a shout of alarm, and four guards ran toward them. Lachlan unsheathed his sword and blocked the shock stick one of the guards aimed at him. He brought the pommel of his sword up and smashed the guard in the face with it. While he staggered back, disoriented, Lachlan brought the sword downon his neck and took his head clean off. He didn't know how to counteract any blood magic they might do with wounds, so he was playing by vampire rules and aiming for hearts and heads.
Ciara's blades were already streaked in blood as she and Tor worked in tandem to bring the others down. Lachlan unclipped some keys from the dead man's belt.
They kept moving toward the building where the guards had come from. Tor made a growling sound as they drew nearer, and Ciara gagged.
"There's definitely prison cells here. I can smell the fear and blood and shit," she said.
Lachlan covered her as she opened the doors to the building. There was a clean foyer with an empty guard station in front of thick cell doors. Painted all around them were strange runes and sigils.
Tor whimpered and confirmed what they had all guessed. They were warded to keep anything supernatural from getting in or out. Lachlan pulled a silver knife from his thigh sheath and started to scratch at the lines like Valentine had told him. The medal that was zipped into Lachlan's pocket buzzed angrily. His ears popped, and Ciara snarled and rubbed at her nose. Tor scratched at the bars.
"Whatever was on there is gone," Ciara said.
Lachlan tossed her the keys he had taken off the dead man. He looked at the security screens in the booth in time to see Bron swoop down on top of a guard and take off his head with Killian's enchanted sword. It appeared to work just as well on blood mages as it did on goddesses. Lachlan grinned, knowing that his cousin had it under control.
Ciara found the right swipe card, and the gate buzzed loudly and swung open. Lachlan kept his sword low as they moved down a corridor to another security door with more wards.
"They aren't fucking about with these," Lachlan muttered and started scratching at sigils.
"They are smart enough to know they would be fucked without them," Ciara replied. Her eyes were full wolf as she added, "Let's open every door and get out of their way."
The cells were concrete blocks with iron and silver doors. They opened the small window of the first one. Inside, Lachlan could see a fae male missing an eye and an arm. His stomach tightened, but he kept his voice steady.
"My name is Lachlan Ironwood, and we are here to set you free. Please don't attack us," he said. He opened the cell door, and the fae man cowered back. "Prince Killian, the Night Prince, is coming. Follow the corridors out into the grounds, and he will be there soon."
"I thought I felt something strange," the fae male whispered and stared wide-eyed at Tor. It must have been enough to convince him that what they were saying was the truth because the male hobbled from the cell as fast as he could.
They moved along each cell and repeated themselves. Wolves sniffed at Tor before they ran away. Two more fae females were next. There were things that looked human but most definitely weren't, as well as a woman who claimed she was a witch who had been taken in Germany. Something no one expected was in the final cell.
"Is that a fucking griffon?" Ciara whispered. "I thought they were extinct."
"Head and wings of an eagle, body of a lion... Sure looks like." Lachlan didn't know how much it understood, so they kept a wide berth as it tentatively stepped out into the corridors. It snapped its beak in an angry sound before it raced back along the corridor.
"That's all of them. Let's get the fuck out of here and blow the shit out of this place," Ciara snarled.
She was struggling to hold down her wolf, and Lachlan didn't blame her. There were less than half the prisoners they had expected. Gods only knew how long the folder of 'specimens' Lachlan had seen in their labs had been collected.
Years and years. He swallowed down bile and started to lay out the small metal vials that Apollo had given him. Once they had cleared the building, Lachlan detonated the vial in his hand and tossed it inside. He was halfway across the lawn to a circular ruin when the building exploded.
It was a beacon that turned the stormy night to day and lighted up the bodies of guards littering the grounds and the prisoners that were gathering around Killian and Bron. They were the best equipped to deal with calming prisoners because they were the most recognizable in the supernatural community. Killian could also counteract any magic that the blood mages might have cast on them. It wasn't a job for hunters.
"We have this. Go and help Valentine," Killian said, and Lachlan handed him a pouch of other vials from his belt.
"See if you can get them to drink some of these. Apollo said they are for healing and will help."
"Just as long as you aren't mixing them up with the explosives," Killian teased.
Lachlan huffed, "I'm sure."
He took off after Ciara and Tor, who had already made it to the bridge that connected the older parts of the Château to the newer. Lachlan didn't have to be a wolf to smell the blood. Killian and Bron had cut a path all the way to the ruins. They would take out the bridge if they had to in order to buy the prisoners time to escape.
Ciara had shifted and was darting off, the smell of blood the final straw. Her wolf needed to protect her, and Lachlan was grateful she had lasted as long as she had. He found Valentine amid wrecked bits of cars and buildings. His eyes were brilliantwith magic and dragon, and he had a peaceful smile on his face as his magic tore hunks off the Château, sending blue roof tiles and cream bricks flying before he disappeared inside.
Lachlan was so distracted by the carnage around him that he didn't see Kovacs until he darted out from behind the smoking ruin of a car and slammed his knuckle dusters into Lachlan's ribs. They tumbled to the ground.
