Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
T ime passed, but how much was a mystery. The walls didn’t move, but they seemed to gather weight. Rafe felt their heaviness in every breath he took, as if the in and out of air got harder each time. He had to get out. If he didn’t, he’d suffocate on nothing.
He got up, spurred by the need to pace … move … something. A therapist—the Silent Wolves insisted on monitoring the mental health of their operatives—had blamed his claustrophobia on the excessive self-discipline he’d wrapped around his rebellious psyche. Or something. He’d blame the bars and cold floors for his discomfort because those were hard facts.
Still, his thoughts yammered without mercy. It was his own fault he was there. He should have known better than to answer his father’s text—but the unexpected request had been impossible to ignore. And, there was so much past to erase. He had started challenging his father young, picking a fight whenever and wherever he saw a need for justice. It had come to a head when he’d mounted a raiding party on a rival pack against his father’s explicit orders. When Rafe had left the pack, there had been anger on both sides. It was only later he figured out that a wolf without a pack was a wolf with no home.
But they needed his skills now, and playing the hero might be his way back. Yes, he should have known the job would be more complicated than what he’d learned over the phone. Dad wasn’t a detail kinda guy, sometimes by nature and sometimes on purpose.
To be fair, a fae dungeon beneath a trendy ultramodern mansion was a definite curve ball. No one would have seen this one coming. And now? Now Rafe would vanish like all the wolves who searched the valley before him. Or not. He rarely failed—and wasn’t planning to take up the habit.
His pacing had taken him around the cell three times. He turned back to the door, examining its structure one more time. The bottom half was solid, the top inset with a barred window sealed by a sliding metal panel on the side closest to the hallway. The lock appeared to be magnetic, probably operated through the control pad.
He examined the spot where he’d dropped his shirt button into the track right as Lila had closed the panel. As intended, it had stopped the panel from closing completely, leaving the thinnest gap along the frame. A good system would have detected an object, but the electronic security in this place was designed by amateurs. Fae copied tech with an artist’s eye, but rarely understood the principles behind it, probably because it conflicted with their own magic. Maybe the more sensitive the system, the more problems it would have around the fae.
Rafe peered closer. It was hard to tell, but it looked as if the pressure had cracked the button into several pieces. Experimentally, Rafe probed the gap, but it was too small for human fingers to slide into the opening. He needed to rethink his next step.
And the one after that. His original plan had withered with Lila’s last words. According to her, a spell trapped him inside the way station. Fae were tricksters, but they rarely—if ever—told a barefaced lie. Still, there were always loopholes.
A snarling scream ripped through his musing. Rafe froze.
Izetta . He knew her hunting cry, but this was fraught with as much pain as anger. He snapped to alert. Shifting his nails into strong, deadly claws, he slipped them into the gap between the panel and its frame and began pulling it open to reveal the bars.
The metal groaned as the system fought to close the panel tight. The force dragged against Rafe’s claws, bending them at a painful angle, but soon he could slip his fingers around the edge. As he tried to slide the panel to an open position, the bars blocked his progress. They were too tightly spaced for his human arm to pass through, but he was a shifter with exceptional control. He could shift a part of himself at a time. A paw could go where a hand could not, and it was every bit as strong. Still, he strained against the force driving the panel shut. Muscle and tendon bunched to resist it. More than once, he had visions of the mechanism snapping closed and breaking his bones. He was bathed in sweat before he’d worked the panel along its tracks far enough to reach the keypad and shift back to a fully human form.
The scream came again, fainter than before. A prickle chased down the back of his neck. As a rule, vampires didn’t feel much pain. This had to be bad.
He fumbled the fob out of his pocket and juggled it to the hand he’d worked through the bars, all the while keeping the door from chopping off his arm. The keypad was to the left of the door, completely out of his line of sight. After a few blind swipes, he heard the beep that said the keypad had come to life.
Now to enter the code he’d heard Lila enter. He played the sequence of tones over in his mind, remembering the slight variations and the silences between each beep. Beep. Beep. Beebee-ba-beep.
Experimentally, he pushed two buttons, one after the other, then another two. The button at the top of the keypad was a slightly higher pitch than the button below. The left key was a lower pitch than the one on the right. The differences were slight—so slight that a human would never have noticed.
Another bead of sweat snaked down the back of his neck. He slowly tapped out the code, got it wrong, then tried again. With sudden force, the sliding panel stopped fighting back and locked into the open position with a sturdy clank . Rafe stumbled, off balance now that he didn’t need to push for all he was worth. His palm tingled as blood rushed back to his half-crushed flesh.
In the distance, he heard a door close, then footfalls. Perfectly still, he held his breath until he was sure they were moving away from his cell. Another door, this one farther away, opened and shut. At the very edge of his sensitive hearing, Izetta cursed.
There was no time to waste. He searched around the keypad with his fingertips and found a large button beneath the keypad. It was an awkward reach through the bars, forcing him to rise up on his toes before he could press the button all the way down.
The door released with a heavy click. Rafe pulled his arm back through the bars, rubbing the chafed skin, and pushed the door. It swung open without a sound. Rafe cautiously stepped into the hall, scanning from right to left. There was no one in sight, but the scent of blood hung heavy in the air. Beneath it was the leathery musk of vampire.
There had to be a way out of this dungeon, a door to the daylight world and freedom. Rafe pushed the idea aside and followed Izetta’s scent down the hall to his right. He passed three cells before he found the one where the tang of blood was thickest. Listening carefully, he waited a full minute before he decided she was alone.
He waved the fob over the keypad outside her door and entered the code, praying that all the cells used the same one. He drew a deep breath when the light beside the pad turned from red to green and the panel at the top of the door slid open, revealing the cell inside. His first view was of a small table on casters that held a tray of sharp implements. The sight of it made him flinch.
Izetta was bound to a table in the middle of the room, her eyes shut and skin slicked with blood. She didn’t stir at the sound of the sliding panel. With silent rage, Rafe pushed the button that released the door lock and stepped inside the cell.
Now her gaze flicked his way, her dark eyes widening a fraction when she saw it was him. Yet she didn’t waste time with questions.
“Get these off me,” she said, voice cracking as she strained against the straps that bound her.
Rafe picked up a long, thin knife, then discarded it for a pair of shears that sliced the thick straps like tissue paper. As soon as she was free, Izetta lunged for the bottled drink that sat nearby. While Rafe freed her ankles, the vampire drank the entire bottle without pausing for breath.
“Here,” he said, passing her the fob. “The door code is 7-2-3-3-5-7. Go get help.”
Izetta’s brows drew into a sharp V. “You’re not coming?”
“Nothing living can leave without permission. At least that’s what the female fae said.”
“And I’m not alive.” The vampire gave a small nod. “I’ll do what I can.”
With anyone else, that wouldn’t be much of a promise, but Izetta always meant what she said. She would do whatever was in her power.
“Good enough,” Rafe said. “Let’s get you out of here.”
She got to her feet, but it was obviously a struggle. Rafe steadied her until she shrugged off his hand with a disgusted wave. They got as far as the hallway.
A bullet skimmed over Rafe’s shoulder, leaving a hot kiss of pain in its wake. He grabbed Izetta, pulling her flat against the wall, shielding her body with his own. Lila stood a dozen yards away, gun held in a perfect shooting stance.
“Did you think no one would notice the cell doors were open?” she demanded. “They have silent alarms.”
Two enormous robed and hooded figures were coming down the hall. Lila glanced their way, going a little pale at the sight of them, then focused her aim on Rafe.
“Run,” Rafe said to Izetta, whispering it in her ear. If anyone could pull a disappearing act, it was a vampire.
There was no time to shift. Rafe leaped forward, somersaulting over Lila’s next bullet to launch himself at the robed minions. He grabbed the closest one, heaving the tall figure backward with enough force that its feet left the floor. Snarling, the hooded minion pulled free and wheeled around, breaking Rafe’s grip with a sweep of its arm.
Rafe caught a glimpse of the second minion’s fist just as it swooped toward his temple. He ducked, driving his shoulder into Hood One’s middle. Pain needled through his joints—hitting the creature was like hitting concrete—but at least the thing was vulnerable. Rafe heard a whoosh of breath, then the thump of flesh as his opponent’s back hit the wall. He let out a wolfish snarl, his beast applauding the violence.
The celebration didn’t last. Pain sliced through him as a fist pounded into his right kidney. Eyes watering, Rafe sidestepped and spun, using the momentum to deliver a cross to Hood Two’s jaw. Rafe felt the skin of his knuckles split as they connected with rock-hard flesh and bone.
Hood One launched toward Rafe once more, talons sprouting through its fine leather gloves. Rafe roared in fury as they raked his cheek, barely missing his eye. As he shoved Hood One away, hot blood trickled down his face like tears. The pain called to his wolf, urging it to join in bloody, senseless abandon.
The next time Hood One lunged, Rafe grappled his enemy close, limiting its ability to strike. Whatever the Hoods were, they were powerfully strong, with ropey, bunching muscles beneath the robes. Rafe smashed Hood One’s head into the wall. It slumped to the ground, the hood falling away to reveal a flash of leathery flesh.
From the corner of his eye, Rafe saw Izetta fly from the shadows, swooping for Lila’s gun. Lila wheeled on the vampire, but the second minion got to Izetta first. Izetta and Hood Two tumbled to the floor. Rafe lunged toward them, but Lila flung herself in the way. Rafe grabbed her arm, twisting it until she was forced to her knees. A noise escaped her, half cry, half snarl of rage. Rafe snatched the gun from her grasp and grabbed a fistful of her thick, pale hair, so she couldn’t stir an inch.
He pressed the muzzle of the gun to her temple, but his gaze went to Izetta. Though clearly wounded, Izetta had pinned the creature facedown, her knee between its shoulder blades and both arms trapped behind its back. Rafe sucked in a full breath for the first time since breaking into the way station.
He bent over Lila. “Let her leave.”
She twisted her head as far as his grip allowed, murder in her eyes. “And then what? She brings all your friends over for a party?”
A frustrated growl rumbled through Rafe’s chest as he tightened his grip on her. She hissed in pain, until he loosened his fist, aware of the soft silk of her hair tangled through his fingers. Up close, her skin was almost translucent, the veins beneath a faint tracery of blue.
Somewhere distant, a door slammed. Rafe didn’t understand magic, but he could feel the air changing, as if spells were starting and stopping all around them.
“What’s going on?” he demanded, his pulse thundering in his ears.
He caught a whiff of something burning, then grunted in surprise at a sudden, searing pain in his fingers. He dropped the gun to the floor. It sizzled, blackening the tile while a brutal thump on Rafe’s back made him stumble. When he glanced over his shoulder, nothing was there.
But the distraction had done its work. Lila melted from Rafe’s hands. Before he could react, she was on the other side of the room, her hands clenched into fists. Electricity rippled through the room, leaving the faint smell of ozone behind. A moment later, the two Hoods began to rise to their feet, the motion fluid and graceful despite their bulk.
The moment they stood, a blazing light filled the room, like a thousand cameras flashing at once. Rafe hurtled backward and landed awkwardly, wrenching his shoulder as he rolled upright. His ribs ached like he’d taken a roundhouse kick.
Rafe swayed a moment, senses reeling from the impact. Then shock speared through him. The robes of the minions had fallen open during the fight, revealing the figures beneath. They were taller than Rafe and equipped with beaks, wings, and claws the length of lawnmower blades. Their skin was a dark mud color, leathery and pebbled with sharp spines sticking from each joint. Gargoyles?
He didn’t have time to think about it—they weren’t alone. A female fae he hadn’t seen before stood between them, appearing as suddenly as if she’d stepped through a rift in space and time.
“Mother,” Lila said. The word held uncertainty, as if she expected a reprimand.
Mother? Rafe held his breath as the newcomer scanned the scene, a frown tugging at the corners of her full mouth.
“Where is the vampire?” the older fae demanded.
He heard Lila’s wordless exclamation. His own heart raced with a mix of triumph and tension, because Izetta was no longer there.
“I don’t know,” Lila replied. “I’m sorry.”
Lila’s mother turned to Rafe. “And what is he doing out of his cell?” She took a step forward and grabbed his chin, forcing him to look her in the eye.
Rafe stopped breathing until she let him go and wiped her fingers on her robe.
“Deal with him,” she said to her pet monsters. “He’s more trouble than he’s worth.”