You say that like it’s a bad thing, but I see the way your nostrils flare when you’re turned on. You going to try to tell me that it doesn’t help you become more aware of your surroundings? Just consider me your personal motivator; the devil on your shoulder. Literally.
Hawk’s speech becomes more slurred, making it clear that he’s been drugged into submission.“Are you just toting her around like a bargaining chip? Angel, your grand plan to save the day is acting like a sack of potatoes? Tell me you at least have a grenade in your pocket orsomething?”
Mentally, I scoff.You know, for needing to be rescued, you sure are critical.I pause a second before adding,Are you okay?
We’re already in the stairwell before he groggily answers,“Just peachy. You think this is my first time being roofied? With a face like this?”
And Ian?
At my direction, hoping they haven’t moved where they were keeping people since I was last here, we head farther underground. The cement staircase winds a spiral path downward, bringing us farther away from anyone on the street being able to hear a thing.
“You know the mage needs his beauty sleep. And after the hit he took to the face, he could use a little extra,”he admits and I internally cringe.
Rheyas isn’t even fazed, hefting me around easily.“Anything useful you can tip us off on?”
It’s hard to focus on his answer as even I hear footsteps and the sound of a door opening on the next landing.“About three dozen cages are filled, not including us.”He doesn’t need to point out that there were closer to fifty when I left.“Five vamps, the rest shifters, besides Ian. They’re keeping everyone heavily drugged, so I might be seeing double, but I’m pretty sure there are ten or twelve mages in here with us.”His mental voice sounds labored, like he’s struggling to catch his breath.“For sure a dozen more throughout the building, likely more.”
“Rest for now,”Rheyas commands, the same gruff edge to his voice as always, but now laced with concern instead of annoyance.“I’m not carrying you out of here too, so get ready to walk.”
“Who are you?” a voice demands.
Ethan takes point, better at negotiations and diffusing situations than Rhey. “Here to collect a bounty. Lady at the front desk said Mr. Thompson would want her alive, that she’d be worth more that way after the trouble she’d caused. Sent us on down here.”
My head spins as Rheyas drops me to my feet, pivoting me around and wrapping a hand around the back of my neck. To the guard I’m sure it appears like a threat, a reminder that he could crush my throat in an instant. In reality, it’s keeping me upright until I find my balance, as well as easing his raging instincts by keeping a hand on me while in danger.
Eyes wide and pleading, I do my best to look pitiful; not really a challenge in my current state. The malicious glint in the guard’s eyes proves I pull the act off flawlessly and he takes a step forward, curling his fingers around my bicep.
“We’ll ensure you’re compensated. See the woman at the front desk and she’ll get you sorted out; I’ll take her from here.” He starts to jerk me closer, but I don’t budge, Rheyas’ hold unyielding.
“Money first, girl after,” he decrees icily, leaving no room for debate. “Else there’s nothing stopping you from calling the cops to haul us from the building while you keep both.”
Tongue in cheek, the man’s eyes flit between Ethan and Rhey, mentally calculating if he can take them both. Apparently he isn’t as stupid as he looks, because he releases my arm, one finger at a time. “Fair. Follow me, then.” He turns, heading down the stairs.
Both men beside me hesitate, though it’s Ethan that asks, “I thought you said the woman upstairs would get us squared away on funds?”
The guard turns to look over his shoulder. “Mr. Thompson himself will write you a personal check when he sees her, and he’s closer. After as much trouble as this one has caused us, you can understand my hesitance to give her any opportunity to escape again.”
Weighing their options, they both nod, Rheyas shifting his grip to the back of my shirt. The sounds of our footsteps echo ominously as we descend another two flights of stairs before approaching a door, the guard waiting to open it until the last possible moment. If that isn’t a sign of what’s on the other side and the resulting trap, I don’t know what is.
As he pushes it open and we get a glimpse of the dozen men scattered throughout the massive space, we only get a split second to decide how we want to approach the situation. None of us are foolish enough to assume that they’re going to just hand over money for me and let the guys go off on their merry way; not after seeing their own kind in cages drugged out of their minds. We could try to keep things as civil as possible, search for the best opportunity to strike, or just go for broke and charge in.
“The scent of blood is drowning everything else out.”Rheyas spurs me into motion, forcing me to follow Ethan through the door.
The other guards look up curiously before setting eyes on me, various smirks and grins making my stomach twist. The cages are tall enough Rheyas could stand in them, and run in rows of ten along the massive space, the basement an open room the size of the entire first floor so far above our heads. Bags hang on hooks outside of the iron bars, tubes leading inside to needles taped down in the arms of unconscious forms.
The top and bottom of the cages are solid metal, the sides a box formed of iron bars that make it easier to see throughout the room. I can’t see Ian or Hawk from this angle, and he’s not responding anymore either, likely passed out. Whatisclearly visible? A stone’s throw in front of us, a woman with long, blonde hair is strapped down to something resembling a dentist’s chair. A metal collar is fastened around her neck and the chair, wrists shackled to the arm rests the same way. She’s not moving, which might actually be a blessing. If she’s tranquilized that much, she can’t feel the energy being sucked out of her, won’t have a panic attack at the vulnerable position like I would.
A man with the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up sits on a stool behind her head, where she’s reclined back until she’s level with his lap. His hands are pressed to her temples, eyes closed in concentration while he siphons the life from her. Her skin is so pale, it looks like they’ve either had her here for years, or they drained her of several pints of blood to ensure she was weak and compliant, making the process of draining her that much easier. If someone thrashes around while you’re rooting around inside of them and fucking with the energy flow in their body, it can have fatal consequences. Or like Ian mentioned, make someone as sick as if a surgeon nicked something during surgery, or leave a shifter trapped in one form if they can’t access their magic like usual.
“Mr. Thompson,” the guard says from beside us, and the seated man’s eyes fly open with a scowl.
“If you can’t see that I’m bus-“ He cuts off as he catches sight of me, a wicked grin replacing his anger. “Well now, I suppose that’s an interruption I can’t be too upset about, now can I?” Removing his hands from the woman’s head, he rolls his sleeves back down, smoothing out the wrinkles. “And to whom do I owe my thanks for such a lovely gift?”
Rheyas fists my shirt, as if he means to fling me out of the way if necessary. “The way you conduct business, it’d be foolish to bother with introductions. We’ll collect our bounty and be on our way, as agreed upon.”
There are a few chuckles and shared glances as expected, and we capitalize on their smug self-confidence, Rheyas running a sharp nail along the underside of my wrist bindings. The duct tape still appears in place, but a rough jerk and I’ll be able to break free without issue.
“I’m afraid not,” the asshole purrs. “Why do you think there was a price on the girl’s head in the first place?” He clucks his tongue. “She saw too much. But now, it would appear you’ve put yourself in the same position.”
