“What do you mean I’m not allowed to see him?” Gwen said. She was standing tall in front of a doctor who kept repeating the same phrase over and over and over again.
“The patient is being monitored and nobody is allowed into his room.”
“You will take me to him right now.”
“We can’t do that,” the doctor said.
“If you value your jobs you will find a way,” she said. “Damir is a cursebreaker and as such Nexus has guardianship rights over him. You cannot legally stop me from seeing him.”
“B-but…”
“You either take me to see him, or I walk in there by force,” she said, raising her hand, her fingers moving in a way only a caster would know. Wren knew she was powerful—she had to be to run Nexus—but the instant silence that followed the move was chilling.
“Madam Head,” the doctor said, shuffling his feet, clearly uncomfortable.
“He isn’t here, is he?” Wren asked finally, and the doctor jerked his head toward him, eyes wide and shocked at the words. “You fucking assholes are working with a psychopath and covering for him, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about…”
“Answer his question,” Gwen said loudly, and Wren nearly fainted at the way she backed him. He found her looking angry and tense when he glanced up at her face.
“We were told to make it look like he was brought in,” the doctor mumbled.
“Told by who?” Gwen asked.
The doctor swallowed hard before responding. “Kellan.”
All hell broke loose.
The Arcstead team jumped like enraged hyenas, throwing themselves bodily against the barriers, trying to get their hands on whoever they could, looking for answers and revenge.
Gwen stumbled back at the words, face falling and eyes looking dimmer than they ever had before. Wren watched in real time as all of her beliefs crumbled to the ground before her, as she realized the institution she held in such high regard had provided shelter to someone so depraved.
She opened and closed her mouth, chest heaving with breaths she couldn’t quite force into her lungs.
She was falling apart, but Wren didn’t care anymore.
He pushed through the crowd toward the first exit he could spot, shoving the door open and stumbling through it into the murky day outside.
Tiny drops of rain caught in his hair and a chill wind danced along his back, but he was blind to it all.
All he could see was Teddy, alone and scared and waiting for him to come. All he could focus on was finding him.
The rest of the world could fucking deal with their own bullshit. Unless Wren razed it all to the ground in his search.
“I’m coming,” he whispered into the air, striding in the direction of the warehouse where he’d last seen Teddy.
If he was to have any hope of finding him, he had to go back and follow whatever trails he could find from there.
He had to—
“So, what’s our plan here?”
He whipped around to see Ash walking right next to him, raindrops splattering on his buzzed head.
Black was right behind him, Midas and Avery just off to the side. And behind them, the two teams blended seamlessly, equal looks of determined rage on their faces.
Trace looked ready to murder anyone who breathed in his general direction, Saint was tired and nursing a severe bump on his head, but he was there, leaning on Echo, who was in a full hazmat suit, eyes wide and terrified but lips pinched bravely as they stood among everyone else. Heir was there with a duffel bag in hand, and Wren didn’t even want to know what that was about. Hart took up the rear of the group, blazer shrugged off and tie shoved into his pocket, a small bag over his shoulder.
