Ramshackle (Raegan of Ruin #3)

37. Raegan

Chapter thirty-seven

Raegan

Reality douses my warm buzz like a bucket of cold water. I’m not even sure what Dane means, but hearing that man’s name and seeing the panic on his face is enough to derail any mood I’d been in.

Kellan looks away from Dane, the initial concern on his face gone once the words register. “We know,” he drawls. He kicks his pants to the side, completely unbothered that the door is open and his cock is bobbing with every move.

“Fuck’s sake! Put your dick away.” Dane tears his gaze to the opposite side of the room.

“Get over it, Rapunzel. You’re gonna see my dick a lot from now on, I’ll bet.”

“Your dick is the last thing I’ll be looking at!”

Jack helps me off the bed while the other two bicker back and forth.

Kellan snorts and shakes his head. “Sure. Now, shut the door if you’re joining, or get out.”

“You’re coming with me. All of you,” Dane argues, though he closes the door enough that any passerby can’t peek in the room. “Thorne’s not moving. There’s no heartbeat, no sign of breathing—”

“—so what? He dies all the time, and he comes back. It’s what zombies do.” Dane frowns and doesn’t budge. Kell sighs. “Look, if he doesn’t respawn in an hour, then maybe it’s a problem, and we can all stare at the dead guy together to figure out our next step.”

I finish cleaning myself up in the bathroom, change into more comfortable shoes, and walk to Dane. Turning, I give Kellan a look. “Are you coming?”

He blinks. Looks at me. At the empty bed. Then curses viciously and pulls his clothes back on, muttering about cock-blocking dead people.

Aiden’s waiting for us in his office, where the security footage of the freezer at the butcher shop fills his laptop screen. The wind master is lying on the floor in a crumpled heap, like a puppet whose strings have been cut. The cuffs are still on and linked to the chain and metal ring Aiden stuck to the floor to keep him there.

Kellan rests a hand on the desk and leans closer, his eyes narrowing as he studies the body. “Are we sure he isn’t faking it? It could be a trap.”

“He’s dead,” Aiden confirms, hitting a key that brings up a side panel of various monitors. “There’s no sign of breathing or heartbeat, which he did have before. But I agree that it could be a trap, which is why we’re standing here instead of rushing there.”

I chew on my lower lip in thought, my eyes glued to the screen. Aiden and Dane had that room decked out with every possible monitor and scanner to alert them the second anything was detected. Anything . We were prepared for Royce showing up and containing him to that freezer with his zombie puppet.

If the only thing going off is Thorne’s heartbeat and breathing missing, then that means Royce was able to manipulate him remotely.

“So, we have nothing?” Dane is the one to ask aloud.

We didn’t get any information from Thorne in the week we’ve had him, and Royce didn’t show to collect him.

That can’t be right .

It had sounded like Thorne was Royce’s favorite—or at least most useful—puppet when he’d been talking with Gordon. Is this just a temporary termination to fool us?

“We have Thorne,” Jackson chimes in, unfazed by this turn of events.

A set of knocks at the door grabs our attention.

“Come in,” Aiden calls.

Cibrina and Reid walk in, closing the door behind them. The tall, dark woman takes one look at us, and her expression sets to one of fierce determination. “What do you need, Aiden?”

“Have there been any reports from those on security detail at the bunker entrances?”

“No incidents have been reported, and they’ve all met their check-in times and provided the appropriate codes. We’re still secure.”

Aiden nods. “Good. We’re—” He freezes.

I follow his stare to the laptop screen.

A beeping alarm goes off from his computer seconds before the shimmering air near Thorne materializes to a portal.

Where Gordon walks through.

Not Royce.

Gordon.

Vines spring free of the seeds positioned around the room by Silas, whipping out and latching around anything they touch. Flower buds bloom along the vines, and bursts of sleeping powder explode at once.

All measures put in place to capture and sedate Royce.

Gordon steps toward Thorne, passing through a cross of vines like they’re not even there, and bends with his back blocking our view.

“What the fuck is he doing?” Dane demands, leaning closer to the screen as if he might be able to see around Gordon.

“I’ll go,” a low, deadly voice says from behind me. I turn to Jackson. He smiles at me, but it’s a cruel, sharp pull of his lips that triggers a chill to run down my spine and warmth to pool at my core. There’s a strange light in his eyes; a gleam that promises pain and bloodshed. He carves his fingers around my ear, then grips my nape and murmurs against my lips, “Let me bring him to you.”

My heart thunders at his request.

“We’ll both go,” Aiden adds before I can respond, and I draw back to look at him.

Kellan steps up to us, his hands clenched so tight that the veins in his arm muscles pulse. “I’m going, too.”

“If I can get ahold of him somehow, I can block his gift,” Dane inserts.

“No, we can’t all go. Kell, stay here and keep Raegan, Dane, and the Guild safe. Cibrina, wrap up the party without causing a panic. I want the bunker’s lockdown to continue through the night, so find space for the visiting members who weren’t planning to stay, and add more security to each of the shifts. I’m not convinced there isn’t some plan to strike here while drawing us out, so stay vigilant,” Aiden instructs.

“I understand,” Cibrina says with a terse nod.

“And Reid?” he continues.

The teleporter looks between the group of us, his eyes lingering on mine, before he pins Kellan with his stare. “Keep an eye out for Tinsley while I’m gone.” He turns to Aiden and nods to indicate he’s ready.

Aiden and Jackson put a hand on each of his arms.

“Stay safe,” Aiden orders before they disappear with Reid.

It isn’t until they’re gone that my gut twists with unease.

Are they walking into a trap?