“He let you pull from him so you could break open the doors.”
Still struggling to catch his breath, he pants, “Not much to borrow, though. They took a bunch of blood samples before pumping drugs into our systems.”
Glancing down the aisle to make sure we’re still safe for now, I press my lips into a flat line. “Are you going to hate me forever if I help you?” His confusion is evident on his face, his mind moving sluggishly, so I clarify, “I can’t carry you out of here, Ian, let alone Hawk too. But if I put the bond in place, it’ll merge our energies, so you should be able to at least walk out of here.”
“I,” he stops, like he can’t find the words he’s looking for or hold his train of thought for long.
Biting my lip, I war with my conflicting feelings. I don’t want to force it on him, but it’s the only shot I can think of to get us out of here. Even if Rheyas and Ethan manage to kill every mage in this room, we still have to get out of the building, where who knows how many guards there still are. They won’t be able to fight if they’re carrying these two, and even then, what about everyone else in these cells?
He seemed like he was coming around to the idea, insisted on this suicide mission like he wanted to prove something to himself. He acted like he needed to make up for hurting me before we could move on, stuck in his head like always. But the annoying gift Rheyas gave me with his order keeps me from spiraling like I might have otherwise, helps me be confident in my instincts.
“Fuck, this could end terribly.”
Placing one hand on the center of his chest, I use the other to grab his wrist and position his palm on mine. Closing my eyes, it’s far more of a struggle than the other two times I’ve done it, the wrong emotions riding high right now. No blissful orgasms and joy, just low-key panic and anxiety. But honestly, seeing as that’s Ian’s default setting, it might help me tap into his energy better than anything.
When I feel the rush of energy leaving my body, seeping into his cells, it’s like a sigh of relief. A few heartbeats later, a trickle of it returns, my flesh beneath his palm heating. Skin tingling like I licked an outlet, my nerve endings grow hypersensitive before dulling, a good chunk of my energy bleeding into his system.
Breathing heavily, I lean back on my hands taking a second before getting up. We don’t have time to enjoy the moment or catch our breath; that can come later when we’re safe. It won’t get rid of the drugs in his system, but I’m hoping if he isn’t so weak, he’ll be able to fight through the fog a little easier.
Trying to give him time to pull himself together, I jog over to Hawk’s cage. Shaking out my hands, I quickly take stock of my energy level. I’m definitely used to living with worse, but too much more and I’ll be tapped out for the day unless I want to risk passing out. I might not be much help, but at least conscious I can still throw a punch if I need to.
Bringing a concentrated ball into my palm, the edges waver as I compress it even tighter. I can’t bubble out a shockwave to blow the door open from this side, so I jam the now tiny ball into the lock before releasing it. It bursts like a small firecracker, the tumblers inside the lock exploding. The door swings open an inch with the blast and I grin, even if my skin is starting to feel clammy.
Unlike Ian though, Hawk is knocked the fuck out. If it wasn’t for the shallow rise and fall of his chest, I’d have assumed he was dead. Sliding my arms around him, I try and find the best way to try and lift him, but he’s dead weight, and it makes him feel ten times heavier.
“Fates,” I gasp, getting behind to push him across the smooth surface and towards the door. “I thought princesses were supposed to be all dainty when they fainted? How do guys make it look so easy to whisk them away?” He flops out onto the concrete a couple inches below as I shove him over the edge. “Oops.”
Hopping down, I send mental praise Rheyas’ way for holding down the fort so well. Squatting down, I work my hands under the middle of the wolf’s body and take a few breaths to pump myself up before standing. Leaning back, my back and thighs on absolute fire, I take a cautious step forward, and then another.
Take three hot guys as mates so you don’t need to do any lifting, they said. Well look at us now; damsels in distress, the lot of ‘em.
A savage tearing sound that ends in a wet splash makes me wince. “Okay, one out of three still isn’t bad.”
Groaning, Ian is on his feet by the time I make it back to him, rubbing his head. “Fates, I feel like hell.” He blinks a few times, brow furrowed as he looks at me, like he thought everything that just happened was a fever dream. “Rel? What-“
Red faced, I rush out, “Escaping, story time later.”
He steps forward to help, and after carrying him alone for like… all of ten feet, only having half of the burden is a godsend. Shuffling backwards since he’s still struggling with his balance, I lead the way towards the door.
“Did that actually happen?”his voice rambles in my head, clearly not intentionally, and I smile a bit despite the situation.
The shotgun wedding? Afraid so, but don’t worry; your virtue’s intact.
His eyes widen, and a little spike of nervousness twinges in my chest, but not outright fear or hate, thank the gods. It’s possible that the drugs are keeping him numb enough that it’s having trouble sinking in, but I’m going to pretend at least for now that he’s just in shock at finding out he’s mated to someone so talented and amazing.
“Pretty, too. And don’t forget modest.”I nearly drop Hawk as his words startle me.
“You’re awake and making us carry you?” I hiss, continuing to shuffle towards the exit. But seeing as he hasn’t even twitched, I can’t imagine he can walk, I’m just relieved he’s conscious.
“Work smarter, not harder,”he mumbles groggily, sounding on the verge of falling asleep again.
There’s no way we’re getting him up all of those stairs on our own. Hell, even if I wasn’t carrying him, I don’t think I could fight my way out of here past the people still in the building. And hell, Ethan had the keys to the car last. Even if the three of us got to the parking garage, we couldn’t go anywhere. With my luck, there will likely be a cop driving by that will arrest us on the spot.
Peering through the bars to the central space, the door opens and I shout a mental warning to Rheyas, his attention focused on crushing a man’s head beneath his massive paw like it’s a damn grape. His once white fur is a mess of blood spatter, and it’s not all the mages’. One of his front legs is steadily weeping blood from three bullet holes, but he doesn’t act like he’s even noticed he’s been shot, not so much as wincing as he turns.
The defensive position morphs into a small nod of respect as three figures stride through the door. Charlotte and Ava have their guns drawn, lowering them slightly when they see that the man Rheyas just crushed was the last of them. Still, they stay alert, breaking off to clear the rows on foot rather than shifting.
The other man that strode in with them, I don’t recognize. The starburst mark on his neck gives him away as a mage, and if it wasn’t for the fact he entered with the twins, his suit and the power he emanates would have me assuming he was actually Thompson’s boss.
