12. Dangerous Games
Dangerous Games
~ G EMINI~
The sound of slow, deliberate applause shatters our moment of vulnerability, each clap echoing through the warehouse like gunshots.
Ren and I snap apart instantly, muscle memory transforming grief into lethal readiness. The emergency lights cast everything in an eerie red glow, making the shadows dance and writhe along the walls like living things.
My eyes scan our surroundings, cataloging possible threats and escape routes with practiced precision. The warehouse seems different now, warped somehow – the familiar layout I'd memorized becoming treacherous with new shadows and uncertain depths.
A soft whistle cuts through the air, followed immediately by Ren's sharp intake of breath. I turn to see him yanking a small dart from his neck, his normally steady hands already showing signs of whatever drug was in the projectile. His pupils are dilating rapidly, and coordination failing.
"Eva..." he slurs, legs buckling beneath him. "Run..."
I catch him before he hits the ground, years of training letting me control his descent while simultaneously reaching for his gun. The weapon feels wrong in my hand – I prefer Knifey's intimate brutality to the cold efficiency of firearms – but beggars can't be choosers.
My aim find the spot where I'm certain our attacker lurks, finger squeezing the trigger with absolute certainty. But instead of the satisfying bark of gunfire, there's only the hollow, mocking click of an empty chamber.
Rich, cultured laughter echoes through the space, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. "Now that's rather unfortunate, isn't it?"
"Show yourself," I demand, already calculating angles and distances. Knifey is sheathed at my hip, but reaching for it means leaving Ren exposed. The tactical vest I stripped earlier feels heavier by the second, weighted down with blood and sweat and the growing certainty that we're outmatched.
"Let's discuss a deal first, Ruthless Queen." The voice carries an aristocratic lilt that sets my teeth on edge. Something about its cultured pleasantness makes it more threatening than any growled threat.
"I don't even know who you are," I snap, fingers tightening on the useless gun. "Why would I make deals with shadows?"
"A fair point, my dear." Amusement colors his tone now. "But I know the exact location of your soon-to-be husband. And I could certainly... redirect the squad car currently transporting your childhood friend and that devastatingly handsome model."
Ice floods my veins. Marcus and Ares. The implications send my mind racing – how does he know about them? Who is he working with? What's his real angle?
"Test me if you'd like," he continues, clearly reading the thoughts racing across my face. "Though I wouldn't recommend it. Not if you want them to survive the night."
With deliberate contempt, I toss the empty gun aside. The clatter echoes through the warehouse, a hollow sound that matches the growing void in my chest. Ren's unconscious form lies too still at my feet – another person I've failed to protect.
"What do you want?" My voice carries all the ice I've learned to wield like a weapon.
He steps partially from the shadows then, movement liquid and precise. His tactical gear is pure black, making him seem like a piece of darkness come to life. But it's the blindfold that catches and holds my attention – sleek material that seems to absorb light rather than reflect it. No matter how hard I search my memory, I can't place him in any of the criminal circles I've infiltrated.
"I need your cooperation in getting Domino out of the mess you've so artfully created."
The laugh bursts from me before I can stop it, sharp and bitter as broken glass. "You're actually insane."
"Perhaps." His head tilts slightly, reminding me of a predatory bird considering its prey. "But it would be far more sinister to let him die when you'll need him at the Ascension, don't you think?"
I feel my brow furrow, my mind racing through possibilities. "Why would he need to be there? After everything that's happened, after the video?—"
"I'm on your side," he interrupts smoothly, raising one gloved hand in what might be meant as a peaceful gesture. "But I like to play my cards carefully. You see, I've bet quite heavily on your victory. Need to ensure my investment pays off."
The way he says 'investment' makes my skin crawl. "What's in it for me?"
"Survival." His smile is sharp enough to cut. "Escaping this place relatively alive. Perhaps even with all your limbs intact."
"Fuck off?—"
The gunshot cuts through my retort like thunder, followed by white-hot pain blazing across my side. We both whirl to face this new threat – a female officer standing in a perfect shooting stance, her weapon trained steadily on us both.
"Hands where I can see them!" she commands, voice carrying the authority of someone used to being obeyed.
I press a hand to my bleeding side, feeling warm wetness seeping between my fingers. "Really?" I can't help the sarcasm dripping from my words. "You had to shoot the wrong person? The blindfolded fucker is right there."
Something's wrong. The warehouse starts to tilt and spin, my knees weakening until they hit the concrete with a jarring impact. The pain from my side feels distant now, replaced by an unsettling warmth that spreads through my veins like poison.
The blindfolded man hisses, a sound of genuine concern that seems out of place. "What was in that bullet?"
"Hallucinogen compound," the officer responds crisply, her gun never wavering. Even through my increasingly blurry vision, I can see how her stance shifts to compensate for potential threats. Professional. Trained. "Standard issue for taking down enhanced criminals. And you're next for what you did to my commander."
Commander? My sluggish brain takes too long to make the connection to Ren. When it does, a completely inappropriate flash of jealousy cuts through the growing haze. A laugh bubbles up from my throat, sounding strange even to my own ears.
"Listen," I grunt, swaying slightly where I kneel, "he was my ex first, so fuck off." The words come out slurred, but I manage to inject them with all the venom I can muster. "And honey? He's probably slept with half your precinct."
Her confused gasp is almost comical, but then more gunfire erupts. The sound seems to stretch and distort, bullets leaving trails of light as they ping off the concrete. Everyone scrambles for cover as I struggle to focus through the kaleidoscope my vision has become.
The world starts fragmenting at the edges, reality bleeding into something darker and more fluid. I force myself to stand, though my legs feel like they're made of water. Ren needs protection. I won't lose anyone else tonight.
Knifey feels alive in my grip, though everything's starting to double and triple in my vision. The blade leaves trails of silver light as I move it, like shooting stars in the darkness.
"Rain check on our conversation," I tell the blindfolded man, my voice sounding like it's coming from very far away. "I'm about to tap out."
A new officer appears from the shadows, his weapon aimed at my chest. The female officer shouts "Wait!" but I can see his finger tightening on the trigger. Time seems to slow, stretch, become syrupy and strange?—
The shot that rings out comes from behind me, the sound crystal clear despite my altered state. The bullet catches the officer square in the chest, a perfect center mass shot that sends him stumbling backward. The female officer screams what must be his name, the sound distorting into something inhuman as she rushes to his fallen form.
My legs finally give out completely, but instead of hitting concrete, I fall into familiar arms. The scent hits me first – that ridiculously expensive cologne I've teased him about a thousand times, the one that costs more than most people's rent. Then comes the feeling of absolute safety that I only get with certain people – my Kings, my protectors.
I manage to look up into Ares' beautiful face, his arm still extended, gun trembling slightly in his grip. There's pure, raw terror in his eyes – the look of someone who's just crossed a line they never thought they would. But his aim doesn't waver, even as tears gather in those perfect eyes.
"Ares," I try to say, but the word comes out as a garbled mess. The hallucinogen is taking full effect now, reality fracturing around the edges like broken glass. His face seems to ripple and shift, multiple versions overlapping and separating. One moment he's the model I know, the next he's wearing Zander's mask, then Domino's sneer.
***"Keep fighting! Stay awake!"***
The voices in my head sound panicked now, but they're drowning in the wave of chemicals flooding my system. Colors burst behind my eyes like fireworks, and I can't tell what's real anymore.
"Marcus!" Ares calls out, real fear edging into his voice. "Something's wrong with Eva! She's burning up!"
The world kaleidoscopes into beautiful chaos, faces and shadows blending together like wet paint. I think I hear more gunfire, more shouting, but it all seems very distant and unimportant.
"I've got you, Sweet Canary," Ares whispers, his arms tightening around me. "I've got you. Just stay with us."
But darkness is claiming me rapidly now, pulling me under into a sea of hallucinations.
The last thing I register is Ares' heartbeat against my cheek, racing with fear and adrenaline, and the thought that at least if I die, I'm in the arms of someone who loves me.
Then consciousness shatters completely, leaving me floating in a void of memories and dreams and nightmares all mixed together.
Zander, my love... I'll see you soon...