Chapter 32
THIRTY-TWO
LUPE
A growl crawled its way up my throat as I peered through the binoculars at the human work camp far below.
Killian stood on one side of me, his tail twitching with agitation, while Bash paced behind us.
I knew that things were bad in my kingdom, but I never expected this . How could I? This went beyond what my nightmares could even conjure.
According to my research, there were over a dozen of these prisons scattered throughout the territory. From my perch above, on a steep cliffside, I could see just around thirty tiny wooden houses clustered together, the walls covered in graffiti and the windows cracked, if not entirely broken.
Directly to the left of the houses stood an immense structure with a vaulted roof and steel shutters. It reminded me distinctly of a…factory. And when it had turned eight this morning, over one hundred humans were guided from their homes and to the building in a single-file line. It was nearing five in the afternoon, and the humans still had yet to emerge.
Surrounding the entire area was a chain-link fence manned by over thirty guards.
Fucking hell.
“What’s the plan?” Bash stopped his relentless pacing and moved to crouch beside me, one hand touching the tufts of grass beneath our feet. His gaze remained fixed on the buildings far below.
I lowered my binoculars with a sigh. “We take this information back to the base and decide. It’s not safe to loiter.”
We had over one hundred fighters with us, and I knew if we asked for it, Z would send more. We’d set up camp a few miles back, in a stretch of forest that had remained relatively uninhabited over the years.
“All of those people…” Killian swallowed doggedly. “We need to stop this, Lupe. We need to.”
“We will,” I assured him…both of them.
It was my family who’d committed these atrocious acts to begin with. I’d be damned if I didn’t do everything in my power to right this wrong.
With a sigh, I pivoted on my heel and began walking in the direction of our camp.
I’d counted thirty-two guards stationed there.
Our army of one hundred—plus me, Bash, and Killian—could handle that many. But how many enemies were inside of the factory? Another dozen? Two dozen? And what about the humans? I saw over one hundred adults, but were there any children? I couldn’t risk any of them being harmed in the crossfire.
I removed my glasses to drag a hand down my face.
I wasn’t good at all of…this. Planning wars and battles and implementing strategies. Maybe on paper, I could do it. But in real life? When real lives were on the line?
I suddenly missed Z with a desperation that stole my breath away.
She would know exactly what to say to reassure me. My girl wouldn’t try to come up with a solution to my problem. Oh no. She would merely remind me that I knew this kingdom better than anyone and would come up with the best solution if I put my mind to it.
We could surround the camp. Put twenty of our best fighters near the main entrance but create a perimeter so no one could escape. We could bring a surplus of weapons so the able-bodied humans could?—
“Ummm…guys?” Killian’s tentative voice reached me, as if from the end of a long tunnel.
I turned, frowning, only to immediately freeze at the sight before me.
“No one fucking move,” a somewhat familiar man hissed from where he stood behind Killian, holding a dagger to the incubus’s throat.
Bash’s hands glowed green with magic, his eyes glinting with a savage intensity.
Where the fuck did I know this man from?
“You don’t want to do this, Turner,” Bash said placatingly, and Turner whirled his way, his eyes flaring.
“Drop your hands, boy. Don’t let me see them again!”
Bash gritted his teeth together and flicked his gaze towards a pale-faced Killian. Slowly, he lowered his arms back to his sides, his magic fizzing out like a smothered fire.
Turner…
Holy fuck.
A member of the resistance—and the asshole who hated us with a vengeance. He was the one who demanded I help free the humans from the camps weeks ago, before we had an army capable of taking the shifters on.
“I’ve come too far with my plan for you three to fuck things up,” Turner hissed, the hand holding the dagger shaking.
His eyes rapidly flicked from face to face as panic tightened his features.
Now that I knew who he was, now that I remembered him, I allowed my eyes to drift over his gaunt frame. His hair was longer than it had been before and wildly disheveled. He wore clothes covered in stains and holes. Dirt smudged both of his cheeks, and there was a ragged red scar on his chin that looked somewhat fresh.
What the fuck happened to him?
“Easy,” I said softly, holding my hands in the air so he could see that I wasn’t armed. “We’re on the same side here.”
“We’re trying to free the humans too,” Bash snapped.
Unlike me, he didn’t even try to modulate his volume or curb his anger. I knew my mage brother was trying to decide if he could zap Turner…without accidentally hitting Killian in the process.
“I’ve been working on this for so long…” A hint of something seeped into Turner’s voice, but what that something was eluded me.
Yearning? Desperation? Fear?
“Easy, man. I said it before, and I’ll say it again—we’re on the same side. You said you have a plan, correct? Well, we have an army of over one hundred ready to fight to free the humans.”
Tuner’s hand began to shake even more.
“So just lower the knife, and we can talk things out,” Bash continued, his jaw ticking.
Turner swallowed and opened his mouth?—
But he was promptly flipped over Killian’s shoulder.
He landed on the grass with a muffled “oomph,” and Killian kneeled above him, one arm against his throat, applying just enough pressure to make Turner’s eyes widen.
“Holy shit,” Bash breathed, blinking at Killian as if he’d never seen him before.
Holy shit indeed.
I hurried to grab the dagger Turner had dropped when Killian flipped him.
“Where the fuck did you learn how to flip someone like that?” Bash asked, his tone incredulous.
He forked both of his hands through his ash-blond hair, causing the strands to stick straight up.
Killian briefly lifted his glare from Turner to smile sheepishly up at us. “I’ve been training with Z.”
“Huh. No shit.” Bash blinked at the incubus.
Killian’s tail twitched behind him, the only obvious sign of his embarrassment.
I had to admit, what Killian had done was damn impressive, but I couldn’t allow my focus to waver.
I stalked towards where Turner still lay on the ground, blinking dazedly up at the sky, and stood directly over him, my arms crossed over my chest.
“We’re on the. Same. Damn. Side.” I leveled him with a penetrating glare. “We can either work together and share with each other what we know?—”
“Or we kill you,” Bash cut in.
I threw my mage brother a droll look. “We’re not killing him.”
“But—”
“We’re not killing him,” I repeated.
We were better than that, better than our fathers.
“You’re beginning to sound like Ryland,” Killian murmured to Bash as he jumped off of Turner and extended a hand for the human to take.
Turner, of course, ignored the proffered limb and jerkily pushed himself into a sitting position.
“Ryland could only dream of having my sass,” Bash retorted.
Turner ignored their bickering as he clumsily got to his feet, brushing at a few leaves that had gotten tangled in his hair.
“So what do you say?” I asked. “Are we working together, or are we leaving you here?”
An internal battle waged in Turner’s eyes—his distrust for us weighing against his need to free the humans. After a long moment, he nodded once, the barest dip of his chin.
“Tell us everything you know,” I instructed.
Because we needed to make a plan as soon as possible.
By this time tomorrow, we would free all of those humans.
Or we would die trying.