spine split apart, and he cried out, falling. Jase straddled him and quickly decapitated him before sliding the blade free.
Wiping the blood on his shirtsleeve, he ran down the corridor toward the vibrations of power. The sound of gunfire and dying men filtered behind him, but he couldn’t worry about the fight. He needed to find Brenna.
The brand on his hand pulsed with angry demand, an odd reassurance that she was still alive. He’d know if she’d been killed.
He followed the twisting and turning corridor, somehow knowing it led to the leaders. For five years he’d studied them when his brain still worked. The passageway narrowed, the rocks reaching for him. “Later,” he muttered to the suddenly morphing faces. The ground rumbled above him. So many layers and tons of earth ready to fall on his head.
Damn it. He had to hold it together.
The scent of oranges chilled him through. Willa. He paused and then turned a corner to see a door in the rock. The scent came from the other side. The idea of walking into any room of Willa’s splashed bile up his throat. Had Willa gotten hold of Brenna and Janie?
Tightening his grip on the knife, he kicked open the door.
The smell of blood and death slammed into him. Panic shoved him inside. Blood covered a white rug, and Willa’s head faced him, eyes wide. Her body lay several feet away. Willa was dead.
He exhaled, glancing around the room. Emotions slid in—he was glad he hadn’t had to kill a woman, and he would’ve ended her.
Small vibrations of energy centered him. Brenna’s energy. She’d been in the room.
Had she killed Willa? Regret filled him. Brenna shouldn’t have to kill.
Damn it. No emotions.
He shook his head and once again tried to focus. Turning, he followed the corridor farther down until reaching another door. Dark energy, ruthlessly held in check, slid under the doorway. Malco.
Jase forced emotion into nothingness and planted his boot near the doorknob. The door opened to reveal a large cell with rock walls and floor. One miserable lightbulb hung from the ceiling, swinging back and forth.
Malco held Janie against his chest, a jagged-edged knife to her vulnerable throat. Brenna lay facedown over in the corner.
Jase’s heart clutched hard.
Janie’s eyes widened until the black iris banished all the blue. “She’s knocked out—not dead.”
“Yet,” Malco said, his lip curling. He stood well over six feet, pale face, black eyes, and white hair. A purebred monster. “Took you long enough to find me.”
Jase lowered his knife to his side. “Let them go. I’m the one you want.”
“In due time.” Malco eyed the long scar along Jase’s jaw. “Remember when I gave you that pretty memento?”
“Somewhat.” Jase forced a shrug. His nightmares were filled with the days of getting tortured until he wanted to die. But some memories brought dark pleasure. “You wanted so badly for me to beg.” He tilted his head to the side, studying the man who couldn’t quite break him. “Yet I never did, did I?”
“Oh, you would’ve begged.” Malco drew Janie up to her tiptoes, and she leaned her head back against his chest as he pressed the knife closer. “But Suri thought you were too close to breaking, and it was time to let you go.”
By nearly decapitating him. “Five years, and you couldn’t do it, asshole.” A small trickle of blood ran down Janie’s pale throat, and Jase bit back a growl, angling to the side. “Where is Suri, anyway?”
“He had personal business.” Malco shrugged. “Figured I could handle you.”
“You never could before,” Jase murmured. The bastard held Janie tight—no way to throw an elbow or a punch. He glanced down at Brenna’s back, which moved as she breathed. Thank God.
An odd electric blue glow filtered along her arm. He frowned, squinting, and the glimmer disappeared. The damn solstice would occur in minutes, and he had to get her conscious and ready to block the power, if possible. But under the circumstances, maybe blocking would be impossible. If so, he had to figure out a way to help her, maybe by taking some of the power himself. As her mate, he should be able to siphon from her.
His grip relaxed on the knife handle. “How about you stop hiding behind the little human and face me? It’s about time we did this, don’t you think?”
“Soon enough.” Malco lowered his nose to Janie’s hair and took a deep breath. “The human smells like life.” Then he smiled. “
Jase’s head jerked back. His body went still. Panic flushed through his lungs. He couldn’t move.
Malco laughed. “I figured you hadn’t found that trigger. The others, sure. But we made sure one was buried deep enough even Kane couldn’t find it.”
Jase bit his tongue, trying to move his arms. They remained at his sides.
Malco flashed sharp incisors. “Kill the witch, Kayrs.”
The knife wavered in his hand, but Jase’s body pivoted and moved toward Brenna. Dropping to his haunches, he grabbed her shoulder and flipped her over. A dark purple bruise cascaded along her right cheekbone. His hand trembled as he traced the wound with his fingers.
“Put the knife to her breast,” Malco said softly.
Jase fought his body, but his arm lifted until the edge of the knife pressed above Brenna’s heart.
Damn it. He had to control this. Sweat broke out on his brow, and his shoulders shook. How the hell had Kane missed this trigger? Now he couldn’t even command his own body. There had to be away.
“Uncle Jase, don’t—” Janie’s voice stopped with a gasp of pain.
Jase turned his head to see Malco’s knife set a millimeter in Janie’s skin. Her eyes filled with tears. God, if Malco dug any deeper, he’d cut her jugular.
“Back to the witch.” Malco nodded toward Brenna.
Jase’s body obediently turned back to the task at hand. Brenna’s eyelids flew open. Her pretty brown eyes focused and then widened. “Jase?”
He loved her. He needed to tell her. But when he opened his mouth, no sound emerged.
She glanced down at the knife that had torn through her shirt. “Um, Jase?”
“Kill her, Kayrs,” Malco said.
Panic filtered across Brenna’s face, followed by calmness. She looked him right in the eye. “Don’t even think of following that asshat’s orders.”
Jase’s head jerked back. Asshat?
Brenna’s hand slid along Jase’s arm to reach the hand holding the knife handle. “You control your body, and you control your life. Let go of the knife.”
He tried to unfurl his fingers, but his entire body remained still.
Brenna smiled. “I love you, Jase. Always have and always will, no matter what happens.”
Love. He felt it, too. Alive, mysterious, and somewhere deeper than his body. A growl rumbled up from his gut. He had to let go of the knife before he shoved it through her breastbone.
“This is touching.” Malco sighed loudly. “Kill the bitch. Now.”
Wrong words to say. Brenna was as far from a bitch as possible. Jase fought his body, his instincts, his own muscles, and yanked away. Gasping for breath, he glared at the weapon still in his hand. They didn’t own him— they never had.
With a battle cry, he stood and threw the knife across the room. Keeping his muscles tense, he reached deep into his own mind and shattered a wall.
Blinding pain cascaded across his skull along with the sound of breaking glass.
Jumping up, he swirled around to face his enemy. “Trigger gone.”
Malco snarled. “Pity. Guess I’ll have to kill you all.” Lifting his chin, he sent out a brutal wave of agony and images to slam into their brains.
Brenna cried out behind Jase.
Jase drew in the pain, forming a shield around the images. “That all you got?”
“No.” Malco yanked the knife across Janie’s throat.
