Chapter 7 Dredyn
SEVEN
DREDYN
Iopen the door to the SUV before Talon even has a chance to put it in park, and Talon and Jasper step out after me. In the back seat, Zane leans forward with a grin as he slides out with Beck, following quietly, and Knox after him.
Zane bumps Jasper with his elbow. “Let’s go save our girl, Terminator.”
“Not your girl.”
I translate out loud. “He said she belongs to Talon, Jasper, and I. Keep up, bitch.”
Zane beams. “I fucking love him.”
Zane adjusts his suit jacket. “If the Syndicate is going to kill me tonight, I at least hope it’s a hot guy that does it.”
I scoff in response, but it doesn’t even phase Zane as he examines himself in the side mirror.
Jasper rolls his eyes discreetly, hands shoved into his pockets, while Talon just exhales slowly, a hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Relax, Z. If some masked freak decides to choke you out, I’ll make sure he buys you a drink first.”
Zane lights up. “See? That’s the energy I want tonight.”
“Focus,” I mutter, because if I let them keep going, we will never get inside.
I shut the SUV door harder than necessary and feel the vibration echo up my arm. We are in Syndicate territory. Their playground.
My hell.
But she’s inside.
“Team Eyes—Zane, Beck, Knox,” I say. “You circulate as guests. Blend in, listen, watch the Syndicate faces. You see a mask glitch or a pattern repeat, you call it in.”
Zane lifts his hand. “Question. If I see a hot guy with a mask, do I report it or—”
“Report it,” Jasper signs and I translate for the group.
“Fine,” Zane mutters. “Cockblockers.”
Talon snorts.
I continue. “Team Extraction—me, Talon, Jasper. We stay near exits and the loading dock. No one gets Mara out but us.”
“And Team Support,” Beck adds.
“Rook,” I confirm. “Car running in the back alley. He doesn’t leave that wheel.”
“Wait, you’re telling me we’re storming a political engagement party, in a Syndicate-monitored building filled with rich people, and you don’t want my help with the getaway?” Zane says.
“No. I want you as far away from anything important as possible. You’re here to look pretty and spy. That’s it.”
He beams. “So, you think I’m attractive. Got it.”
I don’t bother responding. My patience is shot.
The others enter ahead of us, slipping through security. Talon, Jasper, and I wait until their signal pings my phone.
Zane:
Inside
Talon bumps his shoulder into mine as we approach the doors, his voice a low murmur only meant for me and Jasper. “Dre. Breathe.”
“I am breathing,” I growl.
Jasper signs, “Liar.”
“Both of you can fuck off,” I mutter.
They share a look, and I hate how well they read me, but I also need them for that.
We make it up the steps, and past the guards with our invitations. They are all blank-faced men in suits. Probably Syndicate, definitely disposable. Meaning, if we came in guns blazing, they would make the sacrifice that’s necessary.
One steps aside and I notice his pupils lag a half-second behind the rest of him.
Jasper’s dad works for a company that creates these masks. They are seamless silicone overlays fused to muscle with micro-receptors meant to mimic expression, breath, and even blinking. Civilians never notice—Hell, most don’t. But Jasper’s dad made sure we were trained to spot the flaws.
The masks are expensive, high-tech, and fucking terrifying if you don’t know what you’re looking at. They let the Syndicate move through a room as ghosts wearing stolen skin.
I fucking hate them.
Hate the way they smile wrong.
Hate the way they breathe wrong.
Hate the way they remind me that Mara is trapped in a world where monsters wear human faces and expect her to pretend to be perfect.
Under the archway, the air shifts and the music gets louder. Laughter, clinking glasses, and the hum of power beneath my feet keep me buzzed.
I scan the room, noticing how many Syndicate members are here. It makes sense. Most of the Syndicate are Psi Theta Omega members, and with Mara and Chase being the newest Kate and William of the PTO royal family, it would make sense that most high-ranking Syndicate members are here.
They’re everywhere.
Sharks. Pretty, polished predators.
Zane drifts past and whispers, “If one of those things blinks wrong, I’m screaming.”
Knox, beside him, pats his back and pulls him the opposite way. “Please, don’t.”
Talon and Jasper melt toward the rear exit, shoulders tight against the wall—two shadows guarding the escape route.
I push deeper into the warm, breathing mass of guests. The crowd is laughing, gossiping, and drinking champagne like this is actually a happy occasion. Lights glide across marble and polished brass.
She’s here somewhere; I feel it. It’s like a hot wire buried under my skin—humming, dragging me toward her. My pulse doesn’t know the difference between fear and fury anymore.
Then, my world stops, literally freezes mid breath as she steps onto the mezzanine.
Mara.
She wears a white dress that hugs her waist, her bare shoulders exposed. Her hair is in a sleek bun, and her smile is brittle glass, reflecting the room back in pretty, lethal shards.
She’s acting.
I know the real lines of her body, the way her shoulders soften when she’s safe, the way her breath stutters when she’s nervous.
And Chase Harrington is glued to her hip like the parasite he is, his hand resting possessively at her hip.
I want to rip his arm off for touching her. Just a clean break.
One glimpse of her and I’m not a man, I’m an exposed nerve screaming toward the source of its pain. My fist closes before I know I’ve moved, and nails bite my palm. I might be bleeding, but fuck it.
My vision tunnels, breath stalls.
Talon brushes against my arm. “Dredyn—”
I barely hear him. I barely hear anything except the internal snap of every restraint I’ve had for a month.
She’s here.
The chandelier glints off her shoulder and the entire room tilts. My hand shoots to the railing behind me, knuckles white. If I don’t hold on, I’ll move. I’ll charge. I’ll carve a path straight through Syndicate masks to get to her.
Heat floods my veins.
Every inch of me vibrates with the urge to destroy.
If Jasper and Talon weren’t here, I’d already be halfway across the floor, carving a path through anyone stupid enough to breathe in my direction.
Hold on, Hellcat, I’m coming, and I’ll burn this place to ash to reach you.