I remained silent. Maybe he’d reveal his plans and maybe, just maybe, I’d live long enough to pass along the information. Mordecai picked up another object, this one easy for me to decipher. The syringe was pumped full of green liquid, and he flicked the needle.
“I’ve never been good at the injection part. I always miss my target,” he mused. Heat lapped at my skin and I couldn’t stop myself from jerking against the constraints. He looked at me and smiled, that hideous scar stretching his grin a mile wide. “This here will tell me all I need to know about you. What you’re made of. Still, I would have liked to know what your intentions were toward my daughter. She says thank you, by the way, for rescuing her.”
Rage was a live wire in my veins. I pulled against the straps that held me prisoner. He knew. Of course he knew of the rescue. But what had Reagan told him? She said I’d been right about Mordecai, but a part of me wondered if she truly believed that. I hadn’t apologized for how I’d treated her the other night, when I’d called her a little clone and cruelly kissed her. What if she took her hurt out on the Fae in return? What if she said we’d been the ones to beat her and Mordecai was only messing with my head, trying to get a confession out of me?
My thoughts whirled as that needle lowered toward my bicep, as the tip rested on my skin. “Any last words?” he said, grabbing hold of my arm.
“Screw you,” I whispered.
His top lip curled, revealing a row of gleaming teeth. “Then let’s begin.”
He plunged the needle into my flesh.
I was so distracted by my own thoughts that I nearly missed the tiny blond Fae waving up at me from the ground. When I focused on him I realized he wasn’t greeting me, but beckoning. His eyes rounded as I landed, taking in the full size of my lion form. I dwarfed him; he didn’t quite reach the top of my legs.
“Whoa,” he whispered.
I shifted, crossing my arms over my chest. “Hey, Benji. I’m Reagan. But I feel like you know that already.”
The little Fae nodded, hiding his eyes behind his hands. That Fae modesty starts young, I guess. He peeked out long enough to say, “Tarik says you’re not like the others. He says you want to help.”
I knelt so I was closer to his height. “He’s right. Is something wrong?”
“I have friends who want to meet you. Don’t worry! They’re friends of Tarik’s too. They said to tell you they want to help you. We haven’t . . .” His throat bobbed, his small smile falling. “He was supposed to say hi yesterday, and he didn’t. We’re worried he’s in trouble.”
My eyes widened. The timing was convenient. With everything going to hell, this could very well be a trap. Yet, when I looked into the child’s deep brown eyes, I could see the sincerity. And children, they could sense things. He would know if this was a setup.
Hopefully.
“All right, Benji. Take me to your friends.”
Benji extended a small hand, passing me a blindfold. “You have to wear this. Sorry.”
I pushed down my hesitation and secured the dark cloth over my eyes. While I was fairly certain the Fae weren’t aware of Mordecai’s experiments, I couldn’t imagine they would have sought me out if they didn’t have any information.
The small Fae gripped my fingers in his, leading me along a twisted path that looped past alleys filled with rancid-smelling trash and divets that caught the toe of my boots. I couldn’t track where I was being led but I understood the caution.
Idle thoughts filled my mind in the easy quiet. I didn’t know how much time the captured Fae had, and the thought of Mordecai torturing Tarik . . . I clenched my jaw until my teeth ached. Mordecai would have his sadistic idea of fun with Tarik.
Fun.
My stomach flipped, a shudder racing up my spine.
“Are you okay?” Benji asked.
“Yeah, fine,” I lied.
He stopped abruptly, and I worried he was going to ask more questions until I heard a soft, rhythmic knocking. A code? Silence fell, quickly broken by a soft click and the squeal of a door hinge. Whispering filled my ears. Warm breath hit my neck and I recoiled.
“Gaia . . .” a voice muttered beside me. I felt fingers brush across the dragon brand and tried to hold steady—I didn’t want to scare them. A lump formed in my throat. My hands shook. They were asking a lot of my trust.
I was tugged forward a few steps. A door closed, several locks clicking behind me. I stiffened.
“Night Enforcer, I’m going to remove your blindfold.”
White light filled my vision and I blinked several times, trying to adjust. When the starbursts cleared, I scanned the room around me warily. We were in a Fae apartment, or so I assumed from the rampant similarities to Tarik’s own. They hadn’t furnished this room beyond a table and smattering of chairs; several of which held men I had never seen before. Large, intimidating Fae men who looked like they were itching for me to step out of line.
One—tall with blond hair that fell into his face—stared at me with an intensity that made me want to flee. But it was the dark-skinned Fae behind him, with muscled arms as thick as my legs, that gave me the most pause. I swallowed, inhaling a shallow breath to calm the panic fogging my mind.
They invited me here.
I’m safe.
I’m not afraid.
My legs still burned with the need to move. Run. Shift. Ignoring the latter was the hardest, especially as my mind replayed the snap of my arm breaking. Pressure grew along
