I never want to do that again.Night’s mental voice sounded about as good as Tate felt.
The Veles in his bearcat form crouched miserably on the deck.
Ilith chirped in excitement and pleasure.We should get one of those for our own.
Not a chance in hell. She never wanted to experience that again for as long as she lived. Unfortunately, depending on how things went, she might not have a choice.
Putting such thoughts aside so she could get her bearings, Tate examined her surroundings.
Roslyn had chosen their destination wisely. They’d landed at the bottom floor. Above was a wide platform with railings around it and stairs leading up.
Spotting Nathan, Tate ducked behind a glowing archway, dragging the other two with her.
She held still, a part of her already anticipating the shouts of discovery. Peter clenched the stone with a tense expression on his face, looking seconds from bolting.
Night put one paw on his hand and sent him a warning glare. Without a word, Night’s paw changed to a hand that he held out to Peter in a gesture that said give me.
Unable to argue, and knowing Night would end him if he didn’t, Peter handed the stone over to Night, who tucked it away in his mouth.
“You’d better not swallow that,” Peter mouthed.
Night’s tail swished.
Noticing their arrival hadn’t drawn any attention, Tate relaxed slightly and chanced a glance around the room, careful not to be seen by those standing on the platform.
Once known as Aurelia’s brain, the platform was empty except for a single round console in its center.
Tate flinched as she caught sight of Ai hovering in the air above that console. For a moment Tate thought their plan had already failed and it was a matter of seconds before Ai alerted Nathan to their presence.
When nothing happened for several seconds, Tate realized her original assumption was wrong. The Ai hovering there was different than either of the ones she knew. Not the teen nor the emotionless ice queen, this Ai was fully developed. Her hair reached her feet and there was a peaceful expression on her face. Her eyes were unseeing as if her mind wasn’t really there.
Most importantly, there was a two-inch-wide collar around her neck with a ruby stone dangling from its front. It nestled in the hollow of her collar bone.
The sight of the collar whispered through her memories. She had been intimately familiar with it at one point. The Ijiri used them on their strongest slaves to subsume their will.
That must be how Jax bound her to her domain. This must be her true body. Nathan probably figured out a way to overwrite his controls and exert his will. Remove that and maybe there was a chance of her Ai coming back.
Or someone entirely different. Someone extremely upset about being enslaved to this place for a thousand or so years.
Tate’s gaze strayed to Nathan’s left. Her heart stopped.
Ryu’s bloody body was strung up between two posts, his head slumped forward, countless lashes across his chest, legs and back.
Tate’s head swam as she fought to remain upright. Prickles of heat danced up and down her neck, immediately followed by an icy cold sensation.
Being told that Ryu was being hurt was different than seeing it in person.
Her mind wanted to reject the awful scene in front of her, even as guilt stole through her for all the times she’d put Ryu through a similar situation, only reversed.
So, this was what he felt when he saw her in pain or tortured. It was definitely not pleasant, that was for sure.
She could see why Ryu became such a terrifying entity when pushed past his breaking point. The need to rip and destroy beat at her, threatening to rip away the saner side of Tate.
Only the knowledge he was still alive kept her from giving into her dragon. If he’d been dead, Tate very much feared what she would have done.
It would have made her actions at Haven look like a nursery game.
Holding onto her rationality by the slenderest of margins, Tate scanned the room in search of the rest of their people. Beings who were obviously once sleepers stood guard next to several cages located on the same level as Tate and the rest.
