“My mom was freed in that mission. She would have died.”
His friend hissed. “She’s lucky. He killed the ones we didn’t save, you know.”
“True. Fucking bastard.”
Annoyed, I pulled my switchblade from my bra and hurled it down the opposite hallway. It landed with a bouncing series of clicks on the marble, and the soldiers leapt to attention.
“What was that?”
Both of them hurried to check it out, and I darted for the stairs, grateful they were carpeted to cushion my steps.
When I finally reached Adam standing guard at the stockade door, he tapped his imaginary watch. “You’re late.”
“I got held up. Can we still get in?”
Adam nodded. “Johnson’s guarding his cell. You can have five minutes at most.” He pulled out a ring of keys and slid one away from the rest. The door opened with an eerie squeak, and he motioned me inside. “Go straight to the end, then turn left. You’ll see it.”
My feet were moving before he’d even finished speaking. Every nerve ending sparked with anticipation, and I tripped over the worn carpet beneath my feet. The ghost of the offices this space used to be still existed—desks and unused computer equipment—but portions had been gutted, doors and walls replaced with prison bars. Crude track lighting had been installed at the edge of the walkway. The resultant blue gloom lent the place a spooky vibe, but at least none of the holding cells were occupied.
I ignored the bleakness, the memories of being thrown into a jail cell myself, and hurried down the corridor.
At the end, I turned left, pausing to take in the officer standing guard outside a lone cell, the furthest one from the entrance.
Isaac rapped his knuckles on the bars. “Scott. You’ve got company.”
I stumbled toward the cell, the shadows obscuring the black shape moving within. I fell against the bars at the same time Lucas wrapped his hands around them.
“Sophia,” he hissed. “What the fuck are you doing down here?”
The dim light gleamed over his face, underscoring the new bruise beneath his eye, the split in his lip, the blood dried under his nose. I reached through the bars, careful as I trailed my fingers over the damage. “What did they do?”
His head tilted just slightly into my touch, but when he spoke, he addressed Isaac. “Why did you let her in here?”
“I don’t fucking know,” Isaac muttered.
Lucas pressed my hand into his cheek, and days of stubble scraped my palm. “You’re painting a target on your back being down here.”
Rolling my eyes, I turned toward Isaac. “Open the door.”
His eyes widened incredulously. “Absolutely not.”
“Isaac!”
“It’sLieutenant Johnson, Reeves,” he said, all exasperated, as if he knew I’d never call him that.
“Open the door, or lock me in there with him.”
“Fuck, no. You’re lucky I agreed to this at all. If my captain knew?—”
I spun away from him, disregarding the rest of his diatribe. “Are you okay?” I whispered to Lucas.
“I’m more concerned about you at the moment.”
“I’m fine.” Pressing right against the bars, I sighed in relief when he dropped his forehead to mine. “Who did this to you?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Was it Theo?”
