Page 23 of Enemy of the Heart

Horror slaps me across the face. I screech into my gag, begging them to stop as Jennings disappears into the storage room, presumably to get dry fucking ice. I don’t recall us having that when I was here.

As soon as he returns, crouching between Jace’s spread knees, there’s a knock on the metal door, and Thompson opens it. From this angle, I can’t see who it is, and they speak too low for me to hear, but the major is suddenly barking, “Jennings, get them back to their cells. We’re done for today.”

Jennings grumbles something I can’t make out, but does as he’s commanded, and I sag against my restraints, but my relief is short lived. When I’m finally unshackled, Jennings twists my left arm behind my back painfully, then knees me in the lower back while pulling up on my arm until it’s dislocated from its socket. He grins as I howl in agony, crumpling to the floor as I cradle my lame limb.

Less than a handful of moments later, I’m locked back in the box that’s too small for me, causing a stress position that’s compounded by my now-injured shoulder.

Luckily, Jace is in Cell Seven, directly next to mine. And I shout over the blaring music, “Jace, are you alright?”

I wait until I hear a groan in reply, before adding, “Hang on, alright.”

If Louhi doesn’t get here soon, I’ll be begging for death.

If I’m honest, I’m already beginning to plead for the reaper.

Louhi

“Next time, talk me out of bloody rock climbing,” I grunt. At least I have the proper equipment now, considering that I’m resurrecting the career I swore I’d never have again.

“What do you mean, next time?” Viktor chuckles in my ear.

Heaving my body higher, I peer down at the ocean undulating far below. The black water glistens under the bright glow of the moon as the sound of the waves crashing against the large, jagged rocks reminds me of the danger I’m in if I fall.

But I won’t. I’m as motivated to survive now as I was when I maneuvered this rock wall a week ago.

Sasha adds, “Don’t act like this isn’t at least a little fun.”

“It won’t become fun until blood begins to spill.” I reach for the next rock, my core and shoulders pulsing with the effort. I can sense Sean, his soul howling like a wolf in the night. The tacit sound fuels each of my movements and blots out the pulsing pain of my mangled fingers.

Sasha’s slightly higher-pitched laughter fills my brain. “Louhi, only you would find murder fun.”

I snort, the corner of my lips hitching into a smirk. The cuts on my arm pull taut as I grip the next rock. I cringe internally, but manage to retort through gritted teeth, “Your life must be sad and boring.”

They fall silent as I refocus on scaling the far righthand side of the cliff face. The dry bag strapped to my back knocks against my spine as I make my next move.

I shoved my fins into my bag before I started my ascent, opting to go barefoot since I have the most control that way.

“Paska,” I mutter when the rock beneath my left foot slips, falling to the ocean below. Shit.

Gritting my teeth, I focus on my next foot placement and the one after that until I’m at the top. With a heavy, yet determined sigh, I carefully begin to edge my way over to the pipe. It’s nice not to be doing this with a Glock in my mouth.

Once I finally reach the rusty, circular opening, I manage to shimmy the pack from my back and toss it into the space ahead of me. As I cling to the lip, I hoist my body into the rat-infested drain. Thankfully, there’s far less putrid water spewing from the pipes this time, but my good luck runs out the moment I climb into the small space.

I gag as the foul stench of soured water slams into me, making tears prick my eyes as I slither into the cramped space. Shoving the dry bag along in front of me, the rats shuffle over my hands and legs, and my face twists at the sensation. It was easy to forget how disgusting this drainage system was over the last week.

“I should’ve brought night vision,” I huff quietly, more to myself than anything. It’s darker than a sealed coffin in here, and it’d be great to know if I was about to place my hand directly on the back of a rodent. I might lose my stomach if that happens.

“Do you have any other complaints you’d like to leave for the management team?” Viktor snarks, and I snort.

“A few, actually.” I retch as the rancid smell fills my nose, my stomach twisting. “Don’t comment,” I mumble as two sets of chuckles fill my earpiece.

Pushing my bag ahead of me, I focus on breathing through my mouth as I listen intently for any evidence that I might be met with someone at the other end of this drain.

The oppressive iron walls seem to close in around me the farther I inch along, and I screw my eyes shut to ward out the inky blackness. Better a darkness of my own choosing.

Thankfully, my time sloshing through stale puddles comes to an end when the fluorescent lights of the storage room penetrate my eyelids. Blinking, I stop moving, focusing my attention on my hearing, but when I’m met with only the echo of dripping water and scuttling rats, I give the bag one final shove ahead of me. It tumbles onto the ground, and when no one aims a barrel into the pipe, I snake out the remaining distance.

I’m in. Sean’s finally within my grasp, so close I can practically feel his skin against mine and smell the powerful masculinity rolling off him in a fog of testosterone. Giddy excitement bubbles in my veins, almost eclipsing the anxiety I’ve shoved into the recesses of my mind. I refuse to entertain a situation where he’s anything but alright. Not until I have to.