“I don’t know what happened to him, but it seems like we’ll be busy in the infirmary tonight. Come on.” He physically urges me to keep walking. “We’re almost there.”
I’ve increasingly been leaning more and more heavily on Cross as we progress through the trees, so when the building finally comes into view, I let loose a sigh of relief. The deluge of rain has long since snuffed out the torches that’d been set all along the perimeter. No one is in sight.
Arrow grunts, readjusting Twenty-Three in his arms as we get to the side door. “Where is everyone?”
“Inside already, maybe?” Cross shrugs. “But I doubt it. Henry went to round everyone up, and it’ll probably take him a while. Finneas looked prettymessed up, like he’d been out in the woods this whole fucking time. But what do I know?” We open the door and let Arrow head in before us. Quietly, we file along the corridor that intersects with the main one at the front of the house before hurrying down to the cellar.
“My father should be here somewhere,” Cross whispers. “According to Henry, he stayed behind with Twenty-Two.”
I turn that over in my head for a second, it’s interesting because the Collective had made a big deal about all of them hunting tonight. Maybe it’s got something to do with her being close to delivering the newest victim. I’m not really certain, though. I try not to let the bizarre procreation habits and rituals around here bother me. It is what it is. I’ve done what I had to do to get by.
We descend the staircase without seeing any sign of either of them. The children will be down here, fast asleep. We pass the hall with their rooms and the women’s quarters, and head straight for the opposite one where the holding cells are located.
The second our blonde sprite realizes where we’re going, she begins to struggle. “No!” she huffs, squirming in Arrow’s hold. I grimace as I eye him with her. She sucks in a breath to scream, and he slaps a hand over her mouth, easily silencing her.
The whole way to the cell, she fights him, and I can’t even blame her. In fact, I feel awful, like my hands are tied six ways to Sunday. I glance at Cross. “Do we have to?”
“Yeah. Finneas made it pretty clear what he expected.”
As Arrow enters the cell with her, she’s openly sobbing. “Please, no. Don’t. Can’t you just lock me in the other room?” Her eyes plead with us as her gaze crashes with each of ours. She’s reaching a state of what feels like hysteria as Arrow sets her down on a threadbare blanket on the stone floor. He’s squatted down in front of her when, much to my dismay, she smacks herself right in the face as we all look on in astonishment. “Don’t do this to me! No,” she wails, hitting herself again. Frustration flows as freely as her tears.
“Do something,” I heave out, grabbing at the bar to steady myself.
Cross falls to his knees beside Arrow and reaches for her, gripping her face between his palms, but she refuses to look at him, her eyes now pinched tightly shut as misery spills down her cheeks. “Delilah!” The sharply spoken name stuns the shit out of all three of us.
I stare, gobsmacked, as her eyes fly open and connect with Cross’s. Her chest jerks on an inhale. “You… you know my name?”
He silently nods.
Scrubbing a weary hand over my face, my vision begins to darken at the edges. My lips part.
I must have croaked out some semblance of a word because a moment later, Cross is at my side. “What thefuck, man.” On a ragged exhale, he mutters, “Arrow, you need to go find my father.Now.”
I sag where I stand, and then my whole world turns upside down.Literally.It takes me several beats to register that I’m staring at Cross’s ass from where I’m slung over his shoulder.What the hell?I blink, trying to reorient myself. He has me in a fireman’s carry. Did I just fucking pass out?
All the way down the hall, we’re leaving a sick trail of red as my blood hits the stone floor one steady drop after another and splatters. Just before Cross shuts the massive hall door behind us, Arrow’s voice drifts to me. “Don’t worry, siren. I’ll be back.”
FOUR
HAYZE
From the cornerof my eye, I observe every step my father takes. He looks haggard. Weak. Malnourished. And I’m positive he hates every second of the curious looks my brothers have been giving him. I know better than to say a word about it. One simply does not question Finneas’s authority.
“Father, I don’t understand where you’ve?—”
“Enough,” he growls at Dragan as we cover the final distance to the compound. Despite the state of him, our father’s bark is impressive, and if I were my brother, I’d keep my mouth shut instead of antagonizing him, otherwise, he’ll be feeling his bite. “Son, I’ll remind you only this once—it is not your place to question me.”
At Dragan’s sullen expression, our father acquiesces with a tired sigh. “I will tell you this, in hopes that should any of you find yourself in similar circumstances one day that you’ll have some sense in yourhead and be able to save yourself. I returned to compound grounds as scheduled, only to find the bridge had washed out in the storm. I focused on the survival skills I’ve acquired throughout my lifetime—those same skills I’ve taught you.
“My primary concern was food, especially since I only had a knife on me. I backtracked to the truck where I had plenty of supplies to wait things out.” He presses his lips together. Rafe listens with rapt attention, but Dragan looks bored. And again, I’m smart enough to realize what our father expects.
“It’s why you’ve taught us to always be prepared for any eventuality.” I nod.
“Correct. And when it became clear that the bridge repair was going to take longer than I might have supplies for, I hiked along the river for many miles down off the mountain until I found a less-treacherous place to cross.” He lifts a hand to his jaw, scratching the thick growth of blond beard he’s acquired while away. “Didn’t stop me from slipping and hitting my head, though.”
I nod, eyeing the damage he did to himself. “We’re glad you’re back, Father. We’ve missed your guidance during your absence.”
He purses his lips, eyes flicking to find mine. “I have no doubt of that.”
