“You know if we get caught, they’re going to murder us on the spot,” he says as he frowns at the twitching corpse at his feet. “Gods, that’s gnarly.”
“Did you have to cut so…deep?” Ego nudges the body with her toe as though it might spring back to life, careful to avoid the blood pooling across the tiles like spilled ink.
Sakane shudders his agreement from beside her, his skin paling in the dim light.
“Can we focus andpleasekeep moving?” I beg.
My stomach twists as I pointedly try not to look at the dead guard, but the metallic punch of blood chokes me even withoutthe visual. Cato rolls his eyes but nods, and everyone shifts to high alert as we move into the next corridor.
Xeni has been gone for five days now, and I’ve been close to losing my mind. We tracked where they transported him, but the news wasn’t good. We’re in the middle of the central district, in a building with more protection than any of us have ever seen.
This place is damn near a fortress, and we leveraged our entire list of contacts to reach this point.
Distractions on the streets to get us past the gates.
An insider to leave an alleyway door to the compound open, and another to tell us where Xeni is being held.
A long-owed favor with a city utility worker to help with an escape route.
We needed Ego’s expertise to clear the security system, Sakane’s knowledge of the hidden passages to remain out of sight, and Cato’s strength—and weapon collection—to eliminate the obstacles in our way. I hate putting them at risk, but I can’t do this alone.
Random waves of agony have hit me since he’s been in their custody. The mark on my hip is the same pale peachy white as his skin. It means he’s alive, but it doesn’t tell me what condition he’ll be in when I find him.
There have been more patrols than we expected, though security has grown thinner this high in the building. I keep waiting for Cato’s strength to wane, but he leads the way with fire, even coated in blood from the bodies we’ve left behind like a crumb trail of death.
We move to the next hallway, and another guard rounds the corner. She’s too far to reach, but Ego whips her arm out as a metallic whistle pierces the air. The guard stumbles backward with a knife lodged in her throat, and Cato curses and runs over to finish her, guiding her to the floor.
“Nice shot,” he mutters as he jogs back and hands Ego her knife. She looks pleased as she wipes it clean on his pants and tucks it into the holster on her belt.
“You never taught me that move,” Sakane complains, frowning at her collection of knives.
Ego clicks her tongue and tosses him a glare. “Because you said, and I quote, ‘Daggers are too boring when you could use ninja stars instead.’”
“Am I wrong?”
Ego rolls her eyes as we proceed past the body. “Considering you don’t know how to throw them? Yeah. You’re wrong.”
“I’ll figure it out eventually,” he mutters.
We step into a larger room, and my eyes land on the doorway splitting the far wall. A guard stands watch outside it, but he’s quickly silenced by Cato’s hands snapping his neck. My palms sweat as Ego gets to work picking the lock, unsure of what we’ll find inside.
The lock clicks, and Ego steps aside.
A faint ray of light splits the darkness as I push the door open, and the world tilts beneath my feet.
Xeni’s hands are chained to the wall high above his head, leaving barely enough slack for his knees to brush the ground. His uniform is filthy, and a shock collar gleams around his neck. His white hair is matted with shades of pink and red from drying blood, and it’s knotted and wild as it curtains his face.
His name tears from my throat as I rush forward and drop to my knees before him. His single eye is bloodshot and unfocused as his head lifts slowly, as if the effort costs him more than he can spare.
Bruises mar his fair skin in violent blues, purples, and sickly greens, while a fresh cut slices through his swollen lip. His body trembles uncontrollably as we kneel there, face-to-face.
In this moment, I want to burn the world to ash.
“What did they do to you?” I whisper, voice breaking as my hands hover, afraid to touch him and cause more pain.
He stares at me for a few long, disoriented seconds, not comprehending the reality of my presence.
“Bash? Darling? Are you… are you really here?”
