Chapter 31
Cursed from the Start
A Day Later
Fuck.
The word, short and to the point, fit the situation and Nikhail’s feelings perfectly. Usually, Nikhail believed in diversifying his language choices, but not today.
Sands save him, this was fucking bad.
Nikhail pressed a hand against his side, grimacing at the dampness he found there.
He’d wrapped the injury as best he could, but current conditions meant that no matter how hard he tried to keep his wound clean, it was practically impossible.
While his wound hadn’t gotten any worse since he’d been down here, it also hadn’t healed.
Unsurprisingly, the rebels had resorted to their old trick of using prohiberis-laced bullets. At least this time, the bullet had only grazed his side. He was grateful, he supposed, that the wound wasn’t worse.
The dim fluorescent light above Nikhail’s head flickered, and he groaned.
The sound echoed throughout the bunker. The main living space was large and open, with a kitchenette against one wall and a cot against the other.
One hallway led to a bathroom and a linen closet.
Another hallway, on the other end of the space, led to the tunnel.
Across the way, Therian flicked open an eye.
He looked every bit as weary as Nikhail felt.
The dragon shifter’s arm was bandaged, and his face was a map of scrapes and bruises.
Nikhail was sure his wasn’t any better. Stephan was stretched out across the room from him, his back against the bunker wall as he drifted in and out of sleep.
Dirt smudged his hands and face, and his chest rose and fell steadily.
Nikhail was glad one of them was getting some rest.
No one had escaped the ambush unscathed—physically or emotionally—and the air was heavy with grief.
They’d lost two of their own the day before.
Dalyn and Xavier had both fallen, victims of the rebels’ surprise attack.
Even though he hadn’t been close with either man, Nikhail would forever bear the weight of their deaths on his conscience.
They’d died because Nikhail hadn’t been fast enough.
He would be the one to tell their families of their passings… if they ever got out of here. Right now, he wasn’t sure that would happen.
Nikhail’s heart squeezed. He’d always known that dying on the job was a possibility, but he’d never really considered that it might happen to him.
It was a cruel twist of fate that he’d spent years pining for River, wanting her even though he knew he wasn’t the best choice for her, and now that they’d finally started exploring what they could be, it was all going to be ripped away from them.
He wished he could’ve had another moment with her. Just one, so he could tell her that he loved her. Those three words had been sitting on the tip of his tongue for days, but he’d kept them inside because the moment hadn’t felt right.
But now, it seemed they weren’t going to get another moment. There would be no more chances for Nikhail to tell River. All thanks to this fucked-up mission and the way things had gone wrong, time after time.
The only thing they’d been right about was Harringdale’s location. The bear shifter had, in fact, been in the bunker.
When Nikhail and his team arrived, bloody and grieving their losses, they’d managed to overpower the bear shifter, but not before he slammed his hand down on a red button that caused the tunnel outside the bunker to collapse.
Harringdale had laughed, a cold, dark sound that sent shivers coursing down Nikhail’s spine. He’d continued to do so even as Therian injected him with a sedative they’d brought for that very purpose.
It was only after the bear shifter had been subdued that they realized the extent to which everything had gone to shit. The ladder that was supposed to run from the bunker to the surface didn’t exist. Or if it did, they couldn’t find it.
When Nikhail had realized they were trapped down there with nowhere to go, Harringdale cackled.
“You’re going to die down here with me,” the rebel leader had slurred as Therian pushed another syringe into his arm.
One sedative apparently hadn’t been enough.
“You think you can escape? You’re wrong.
There’s no way out. Your deaths will be on the Chancellor’s shoulders, along with thousands of others she’s caused. ”
Once, Nikhail would’ve taken the words as an idle threat from a man who was cornered, nothing more. But now, a day had passed, and they were no closer to escaping this place. There was no signal in the bunker, no way to communicate with the outside world.
The space itself was bare. There was a twin-sized metal cot, a table with two chairs, a fridge, and cupboards containing nonperishable food items. The bathroom at the end of the hall had a toilet, a sink, and a stand-up shower.
There were no books or sources of entertainment.
They’d found a few scratchy blankets, but the space had clearly been designed to keep one person safe over an extended period of time. Maybe two.
Certainly not six, one of them a prisoner.
Nikhail couldn’t imagine staying down here for weeks, let alone months or, gods forbid, years.
A hand touched Nikhail’s shoulder, pulling him out of his dire thoughts, and he looked up. Taliyah stood before him, her hands covered in dirt. The vampire’s black eyes seemed dimmer than normal. She placed the battery-powered lantern she’d been carrying on the ground at her feet.
“We’re going to take a break,” Taliyah said softly, gesturing to Crystyna, who had been working with her.
If Taliyah looked tired, Crystyna looked dead on her feet.
“Of course,” Nikhail said. “I’ll take over digging.”
When it became clear that the tunnel had collapsed, Nikhail had tried using his magic to clear the debris, but the dirt was too tightly packed and strewn with rocks and pebbles. He’d quickly realized they would have to dig themselves out the old-fashioned way.
Thanks to his team’s injured state and the limited room in the tunnel, they were being forced to work in shifts.
An hour ago, when the bear shifter began to show signs of stirring, Nikhail injected the rebel leader with their last sedative. Doing so had made the already-dire situation even worse. If the sedative wore off, they’d have to contend with Harringdale.
They’d already subdued the bear shifter once, but Nikhail didn’t think they’d be able to do it twice. Not as easily, anyway, now that they’d lost the element of surprise, and everyone was weaker.
Getting to his feet, Nikhail folded the blanket that had been draped over his legs. His side pinched at the movement, but he ignored the pain.
“You should both try to rest, if you can,” he said.
Crystyna headed to the cupboards that held packets of dried food, but Taliyah sank to the floor and rested her head against the wall.
Though the bunker was stocked with food, it wasn’t equipped for vampires.
Earlier, Taliyah had insisted she’d be fine without blood, but Nikhail knew that vampires, especially younger ones, could only go so long without feeding.
He was keeping an eye on his fellow soldier, and if the vampire needed blood, he planned to insist she drink from his wrist. He wouldn’t allow anyone to get weak on his watch if he could help it.
Nikhail caught Therian’s eye and pointed to the chair in the middle of the space, where Harringdale was tied and sedated. Therian scrubbed a hand over his face.
The silent conversation was over nearly as quickly as it had begun. Satisfied that Therian would watch over the rebel leader and make sure he stayed put, Nikhail turned his back on Harringdale.
Right now, the rebel leader didn’t look all that dangerous.
If Nikhail hadn’t known that the man had ordered the murders of Representatives in cold blood, if he hadn’t watched Harringdale’s hours-long rant about overturning the government, he wouldn’t have believed this man was capable of such things.
In his nonshifted form, Harringdale looked rather nonthreatening, all things considered.
He was of average height, with sable brown hair and a face that looked like a hundred others.
His brown eyes were unremarkable, and other than the distinctive scar above his lip, the rebel leader looked utterly normal.
Of course, the sedative probably helped with that.
Holding the battery-powered lantern with his left hand, Nikhail made his way through the bunker. He passed through the open door, and the cool air wrapped around him. The metal walls gave way to packed dirt, and it wasn’t long before Nikhail was at the site of the cave-in.
Placing the lantern on the ground, he picked up the bowl that was serving as a makeshift shovel. A sigh gusted out of him as he got to work.
Nikhail lost track of time as he dug. Minutes flowed together, the repetitive motions of scooping up packed dirt and rocks and depositing them along the tunnel’s edges gave his mind plenty of time to wander.
And wander it did.
Nikhail thought about River. Her smile. How she looked at him, as if he were her whole world. How his heart warmed every time she stepped into the room. How merely being in her presence was a gift that he had never deserved but would forever cherish.
He thought about her until his heart ached, and then, his mind wandered to this never-ending, godsforsaken mission. Capturing the rebel leader was the only thing that had gone right so far.
As a rule, Nikhail didn’t believe in curses.
He never had. But if he did, he would think that this expedition had been cursed from the start.
He should’ve been done and back in the Central Region with River by now, but instead, here he was.
Shoveling out piles of dirt, wondering if Harringdale was right, and they were going to die down here.
The thought of never seeing River again, of never hearing her laugh or pressing his lips against hers or holding her against his chest, spurred Nikhail onward. His arms burned, and his shoulders ached as he dug and dug and fucking dug, but he didn’t give up.
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before there was movement beside him. With a nod in his direction, Stephan picked up the other bowl and started to dig alongside Nikhail.
They worked in silence, their grunts of exertion the only sound for several minutes.
Stephen wiped the back of his hand against his brow. “Who are you digging for?”
“My girl.” The answer came easily to Nikhail, and his lips twitched upwards despite the exertion of his task. “You?”
“My wife, Lynette. She’s been asking me to retire for years, and I’ve been putting it off. But now…” Stephen laughed dryly. “Well, fuck. If we get out of here, I think I’m done.”
“I don’t blame you.” Nikhail hauled another load away from the wall, dumping it along the growing pile.
At one point in Nikhail’s life, being in the military had been everything for him. He loved his job and the way that it had opened so many doors for him. He’d gotten to explore the Republic of Balance, meet new people, and learn new skills.
He’d become a stronger air fae because of the military, far more in tune with his magic than he’d been in his youth.
Because of the military, Nikhail had been able to provide for his mother and sisters.
Laney had gotten the medical help she’d desperately needed, and their mother hadn’t had to scrimp and save as much once Nikhail had been able to send them money.
Nikhail had done many things, and he was extremely proud of all the time he’d spent in the military. He was accomplished, and he’d achieved far more than he would’ve ever dreamed of when he was a young man entering boot camp.
And yet, none of that seemed important right now. If anything, travelling, working all the time, and being at the whim of others was starting to grate on him.
It wasn’t that he’d slowly been falling out of love with his job. Nikhail still enjoyed what he did—current mission notwithstanding. But his position in the military had become just that: a job.
Nothing more.
He felt very little attachment to his position, other than the fact that it was paying his bills. He could give up his job, Nikhail realized with a start as he dug his shovel back into the dirt. Doing so wouldn’t hurt him, not like it might’ve a year ago.
He could let go of the military rather easily, but River was a different story.
Gods help him, but Nikhail didn’t ever want to give her up. Not now that he knew how perfect they were together and that she truly was the missing piece to his soul.
He pictured her lovely gold-speckled brown eyes as he kept working. Stephen was a quiet, steady force beside him.
Another half hour passed before Nikhail’s magic stirred in his veins. Something was different.
Nikhail looked over his shoulder towards the bunker, but nothing seemed amiss. Still, he sent a thread of magic towards the others, asking the wind to check on things. A moment later, the breeze caressed his cheek.
Everything is as it was, the wind whispered in Nikhail’s ear.
Then what had he heard?
Nikhail would’ve thought it was nothing but a trick of his mind, but then the sound came again.
Stephen paused, mid-scoop. “Did you hear something?”
“I think so.” Nikhail flexed his fingers at his side. “But I’m not sure.”
Could it be a trick of their minds? Maybe they were so desperate to get free that they were jointly hallucinating sounds? What if the entire tunnel had collapsed, not just a section of it, and no amount of digging could ever free them? What if—
“We’re here to help,” a faint voice called out from behind the collapsed tunnel.
Hope sparked deep in Nikhail’s soul. The voice was far too quiet for him to identify the speaker, but right now, it didn’t matter. Someone was on the other side, which meant they weren’t going to die down there.