It’s as though the vision unlocked something inside me, and my affinity floods through me until I’m buzzing with power. Just like I practiced with Marcus and Cassian, I’m able to succumb to my instincts, to let my affinity protect me. I anticipate every hex the guards fire our way and wield shielding spells with fluid flicks of my scribe.
“Let us protect you,” Cassian growls.
“Get the guards taken out. I’ve got this!”
We clear the lobby and progress deeper into the facility, making our way forward cautiously. Simon studies the schematic of the facility on his phone for a moment and nods to himself. “Wickman’s in his lab, with his usual two guards just outside the door. Come on, let’s go.”
“Saints above,” Jack says over our earpieces, his voice weak.
“Bloody fucking hell,” Graeme’s voice cuts in. “You’re getting this, Jackie?”
“Every horrifying minute of it,” the journalist responds.
Cassian casts me a look over his shoulder. “Jack got the bright idea for someone on each team to wear a body cam, and I’m guessing his team just hit the cell block. The world has to know what Radcliffe Industries has been doing.”
Thank the saints for Jack Rudolph. I’m heartened to have him here with us.
Luca and Ian head down the corridor where Wickman’s office is located ahead of the rest of us. The sound of more concrete crumbling echoes down the hallway, followed by two identical thumps.
“All clear,” Ian calls.
Simon swipes us into the lab, and Cassian, Simon, Ian and I step over the stunned guards, while Luca and Marcus station themselves outside the door.
A harried scientist looks up at us from his worktable. “Oh, saints. You’re here to kill me, aren’t you?”
Nathan Wickman is a shadow of the alpha engineering wunderkind he was in the photograph Simon showed us. He’s lost weight, making his once youthful face look older and hollow. His jaw is dark with stubble, and he looks like he hasn’t slept in days. He raises his hands in surrender, and Ian quickly steps forward and binds his hands.
“Nathan Wickman?” Cassian confirms.
“Yes? Unfortunately?”
“How do we unlock the collars?” my mate presses.
The engineer’s eyes flash, and his expression dulls, going blank.
Cassian prompts him again, but it’s like Nathan doesn’t even hear him.
“He’s bound by some kind of spell,” Ian mutters. “An honor spell used in the most despicable way possible or some other silencing spell.”
“Her,” Nathan says.
“I beg your pardon?” Ian arches a brow.
“Have.”
“Who?” I ask, stepping forward. “Who’s her? Who do they have?”
“Bl—” His whole body seizes, and his eyes roll back in his head. He slumps against his desk and Ian dashes forward, catching him before he crashes to the floor.
“He was trying to fight the spell,” Ian says with a grimace.
“What was he trying to say?” Cassian asks. “Blood, maybe? Is he being silenced by blood magic?”
I know the instant the engineer regains consciousness because his first thought is of a raven-haired omega, a collar around her neck.
“Blair,” I whisper.
“Have,” Nathan says, his voice forlorn.
