Shadrach’s brows dropped into a scowl. His thumb stroked the hinge of Isaac’s jaw, awed by the human’s strong pulse. “You’re not dying here, killer. I won’t let that happen.”
“What if I don’t tell you what you want to know? You keep me tied up indefinitely?”
Shadrach reluctantly let his hand fall away, and he missed the warm sensation of Isaac’s skin immediately. “Then why don’t you just answer our questions?”
“Ican’t.” Isaac hung his head.
“You can.”
“Sloan—”
“Isn’t here,” Shadrach growled. “They can’t hurt you here.”
“But you are,” Isaac rasped.
Something unpleasant slithered through Shadrach’s gut. It took him a moment to identify it as guilt.
“I told you to trust me,” he said softly.
“In a dream that I didn’t know was real?” Isaac snapped.
“You figured it out, didn’t you?”
Wrenching hard at the rope binding his wrists, he shouted, “How can I trust the people who are the ones holding me here?”
Shadrach lowered his gaze. He was right, but that didn’t change the wretched feeling gnawing at his insides. He wanted things to be different, but he didn’t know how to make it so.
The door behind him opened, and Talon loomed in thedoorway. “I’m ready to get started, Shadrach. Are you staying or going?”
Isaac’s eyes flickered between them, trepidation lining his face. He hid it well, but somehow Shadrach saw right through the veneer of bravado to what lay underneath. Isaac was in danger, and he knew it.
Could Shadrach stand to be in the room and watch while Talon hurt him? To his own confusion, he didn’t think so.
“No.” He couldn’t meet Isaac’s eyes as he spoke. “I think I’ll go have a drink.”
“Perfect,” Talon purred, stepping into the room. “I’d like a little time alone with our new friend here. Pay him back for this.” His fingers trailed across the shallow, clotted cut on his chest.
Feeling strangely shaky, Shadrach strode from the room, yanking on the door as he went so it would slam shut behind him.
Everyone was still there. Nathan had moved to the training area, his wooden sword clacking against one of the dummies. Alex was on the sofa, looking despondent. Ira and Wolf were at the snack bar with Storm and Malachi. Most of them looked over at him as he strode into the room, but no one spoke, which was for the best. He thought he might rip the head off the first person to address him.
The front door opened, and Luke stepped inside. “Okay, they’re going home.”
Shadrach latched onto it, needing something else to occupy his mind. “Who?”
“Zach and Angie. They came by for training, but we didn’t think it was a good idea for them to stay while…” He trailed off, gesturing to the storage door over Shadrach’s shoulder.
“While we torture someone?” he said glibly.
Ira and Wolf’s eyes burned into his profile. He didn’t care, didn’t care,didn’t fucking care.
“If they’re gone, I think I’ll have a smoke.”
“It’s the middle of the day,” Luke warned. “Sun’s out.”
Ignoring both that and the fact that he’d smoked inside the building on plenty of occasions despite their repeated protests, he marched past Luke and out into the sunlight. He was certain it wasn’t so bright to humans, but he was momentarily blinded by the white glare on his eyes. Squinting, he followed the wall to a narrow strip of shade where they kept a standing ashtray and leaned against the metal siding as he dug a cigarette from the pack in his shirt pocket. The first smoky inhale settled the shake in his hands but not the anxiety in his head.
What was it about that human?
