Chapter 20
Shey Thrudesh-Vo
What?
Shey stood frozen, feeling as if someone had hit him with a bucket of ice water.
What did Ty say?
He knew. He knew about Kaes. But how?
Except Tyche had powers. The man had magic, and he knew Yesuntei had magic. Was it possible that they’d made similar deals with gods?
Or…were they gods?
“Shawn!” Tyche shouted. Panic was palpable in his voice and in the tension of his body. “You need to freak out later. Escape now!”
“Yeah, sorry,” he muttered, mentally shaking out of his paralysis. He was right. They needed to escape now. If they survived this clusterfuck, he was going to get all his answers out of Ty, even if it meant threatening him with magic or sharp objects.
Shey rushed to the cell door and waved a hand at Tyche. “Move away. I don’t have great control over this.”
“That’s wonderfully reassuring,” Ty grumbled, but the man moved down the corridor, putting as much distance between himself and the metal bars as he could.
Shey drew in a deep breath through his nose and held it as he reached inside for his connection with the God of Storms. Kaes had never visited him—at least he hadn’t as far as he knew—but sometimes, he swore he could hear whispers urging him to let go, to embrace all the rage that swirled within his chest. It was so tempting to let his control slip from his fingers and wash the entire world away.
Especially the evil monsters running this facility.
The energy grew, building like pressure weighing on his shoulders and on the top of his head, trying to shove him into the ground.
An electric current crackled and sparked along his skin, flowing to his fingertips.
Shey exhaled the air he’d been holding and grabbed the bars of the cell.
It was like a bolt of lightning shot out of his body and raced through all the metal.
Sparks flew and all the lights flickered.
Bulbs exploded in Shey’s cell and in a few of the others, leaving the entire block cloaked in heavy shadows.
The scent of blood and burned ozone hung thick in the air.
“Fuck!” Ty lifted his arms over his head to protect himself from the shower of sparks. He danced in a circle, trying to escape the charge, but he was surrounded. “This! This is why you don’t fuck around with the major gods. Nothing good comes of it.”
Shey smirked and pushed his cell door open. It made a long, high-pitched whine that cut through the room, leaving Tyche cringing even as he lowered his arms. “Is that from personal experience?”
“That’s from your sparks show,” Tyche snapped.
Shey walked out of his cell for the first time, his heart racing and his head light as he dragged in a deep breath, but it caught in his throat as his eyes stopped on Yesuntei’s dead body.
Blood pooled beneath her, and her skin was turning grayer with each passing second.
She had been so sweet and innocent. At least she seemed that way.
Why did she have to die? What purpose did it serve?
The world felt darker, a little less colorful without her musical laughter and playful remarks.
Even when she’d been terrified, she’d still attempted to put on a brave smile and not give up.
“We’ll get justice for Teitei,” Tyche stated softly, but there was steel in his voice.
Shey lifted his gaze to stare at his companion.
It was the first time seeing Tyche without bars between them, and it felt unnerving.
Shey had glimpsed the man when either of them were taken from their cells for questioning.
He was a skinny, grumpy-faced young man who was at least six inches shorter.
His reddish-brown hair was a shaggy mess, hanging past his back—but then, it wasn’t fair to judge.
He had no idea how long Tyche had been trapped in the prison, and Shey had to admit that he probably didn’t look all that great, either.
Of course, the blood soaked into Tyche’s shirt and pants as well as smeared on both hands kept him from appearing harmless. In the flickering lights and thickening shadows, he was a monster that had stepped straight out of a nightmare.
“You would have to be tall,” Tyche complained, his lips twisting into a fresh frown.
There was no stopping Shey’s smirk. It would be the one thing that Tyche bitched about.
He was torn between wariness over the knowledge that Tyche could be a god and chagrin that this was the same crabby guy who complained about coffee and talked him out of his rolls.
He couldn’t reconcile the two images in his brain.
“Let’s go.” Shey brushed past Ty as he jogged down the corridor to the main door.
“Shit,” Tyche hissed under his breath and scrambled after him. “Don’t leave me behind. You promised to protect me.”
“I haven’t forgotten, Little God,” Shey teased.
“Oh, you can just cram that nonsense right now. There will be no short jokes.”
Shey tried to think of another, but his brain went blank as he grasped the metal handle only to have it shock him.
He cursed and shook his hand. He hesitantly touched it again and found the current was gone now, allowing him to open the door enough to peek into the hallway. Tease Ty later. Escape now.
“What do you see?” Ty hissed.
“It’s empty, but it looks like there were signs of a struggle.”
The hallway off the cellblock was long and wide with bare white walls.
There were not enough signs posted to give them any clues which direction they should head.
When he’d been dragged to one of the interrogation rooms, the corridor was always full of guards and workers in tidy black uniforms. Now it was empty except for the occasional shower of sparks that tumbled from malfunctioning lights.
Scorch marks peppered the walls and floors as if someone had tried to set the building on fire in places.
In other spots, bloody handprints dotted the stark white walls.
There were no signs of the guards, but he could hear shouts and agonized screams echoing from deeper in the building.
“The closer they were to Yesuntei, the stronger the impact of her magic would have been. They would have been able to walk around while trapped in their nightmares, unable to tell the difference between nightmare and reality.”
Shey twisted to gaze at Tyche. “Are they still trapped in a nightmare?”
“Some of them, yes, probably. The man who dropped her off must have been watching from a safe distance or been jolted out of his nightmare early.”
“Okay. That might work to our advantage. They might not be organized enough to put up much resistance. Stick close to me.”
Tyche huffed. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”
Shey shot out of the cellblock, moving swiftly on silent feet, his back slightly hunched and muscles tensed, ready to spring at anyone who might come at them.
He kept his left hand open and extended behind him, prepared to push Tyche behind him for safety, but it wasn’t necessary.
Tyche was smaller and used Shey’s much larger frame to hide behind.
The acrid scent of smoke teased his nose as they moved through the hall. Shouting grew louder and more frantic. There were hints of someone trying to issue orders, but Shey couldn’t be sure any of them were being followed.
His stomach churned and bubbled. Which way to go? Straight ahead and to the left led to the interrogation rooms. It was the only direction he’d ever been taken when the guards came for him. That meant their best option was to go right at the next intersection.
“Don’t hesitate. Just go. We’ll figure it out,” Tyche said from behind him.
“Oh, so you read minds now?” Shey mocked as he took the first right.
“I don’t get the impression that reading your mind would mean sitting down with some dense tome.”
“Really?”
“More like a thin pamphlet. Lots of pictures.” It sounded like Ty was fighting laughter as he spoke, and even Shey had to admit that he almost smiled at his teasing.
“Asshole. I’m leaving you here.”
“Now you’re being mean.”
Shey ignored his comment as he reached another closed metal door with a key-card lock.
It took less effort to summon his powers now.
They were already bubbling near the surface, demanding to be set free.
The bolt of lightning jumped from his hand and into the panel.
Like before, the electric current continued through the walls, knocking out more lights.
The scent of smoke and burnt ozone grew stronger.
A crash of thunder broke from outside the building and shook the floor. All his magic use had summoned up a storm. Shey wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing. If it helped to mask their escape, it would be good.
He pulled the door open only to find a security agent standing on the other side.
He was missing his face guard and helmet, allowing Shey to see that it was one of the men who delivered food to their cells.
His dark brown eyes widened at the sudden sight of Shey.
On a gasp, he fumbled with his gun at his side.
Shey grabbed a fistful of his uniform with his left and slammed his right fist into the man’s face several times, then rammed his head into the wall.
Staggered and moaning, the man stumbled as soon as Shey released him, not even bothering with his gun.
Shey sneered and slammed his foot into the man’s gut, doubling him over and sending him into the wall behind him in a crumpled heap.
Barely conscious and groaning, he didn’t put up a fight when Tyche jumped on him. In the blink of an eye, he’d stripped the man of his gun, ammunition, two knives, a second gun, a wad of cash, and most importantly, his key card.
“You work faster than some jackals I’ve seen,” Shey stated as he accepted the guns and ammunition from Tyche. He tucked away one knife while Tyche kept the smaller one and the cash.
Tyche held up the key card, his brow wrinkled. “I don’t know how much good this will do us. You’ve fried all the electronics.”