“Can you go help Caspar? He’s trying to speed up the process, and he’s running out of numerical combinations.”
Elias’ blue eyes lit with gratitude. “Glad to help.”
Leaning against the rough wall, I took his post, watching as the two men puzzled over the combination. I started to pace again. All of fifteen seconds passed before I let my feet carry me back to them, listening as they frantically threw codes out.
1:00.
“Anything?”
“No,” Caspar whispered, voice strained. “Literally thousands of numbers and nothing yet. The code is eight digits. I can’t imagine what he used.”
Eight digits . . . Oh. Surely he wouldn’t. I licked my dry lips. “Try 08252021.”
“That seems fairly specific,” Elias said, glancing up at me.
“It’s my date of birth.”
Caspar arched an eyebrow. “Well, aren’t we cocky?”
“Try the combination,” I growled. My fingers tightened into fists that shook at my sides. Mordecai would truly have to be a monster to use my birth date—like it meant something to him. Like I meant something to him.
“Oh damn, we’re in.”
Sebastian shot a quizzical look in my direction as he moved to help Elias push the steel door aside. Caspar hurriedly put away his tech. Nevaeh shifted beside me, pulling lavender hair out of her face. We all flinched, stepping backward as blinding light filled the hallway. Our eyes took several long, agonizing seconds to adjust, but when they did—
Damn. The room was filled, almost wall to wall, with Fae strapped down to cots.
Too easy. This all felt too easy.
I scanned the rectangular space and shoved my apprehension to the back of my mind. The others filed past me to unstrap the helpless Fae, but my senses shut off.
“He’s not in here,” I muttered.
Nevaeh gripped my arm. “What?”
“Tarik. He’s not in here.” I searched the room again, straining to look past the Fae being helped to their feet. No shock of red met my eyes, no snarky remarks about wanting to be released. Bile rose in my throat. What had Mordecai done to him? Was I too late?
Elias wrenched a gray curtain aside at the back of the long room, paused, then strode toward Sebastian, saying, “He’s not here.”
“What?” Sebastian whisper-yelled and Caspar shushed him. The mission leader turned frantic eyes our way. “Nevaeh, see if he’s down here.”
Nevaeh nodded stoically, squeezing my arm before she shifted. She raced into the hall, nose twitching as she tried to find a scent. After a moment, she let out a short squeak and I trailed her to the lab room, Elias at my heels. We searched the room frantically but there was nothing. No trace of him. My eyes burned as Nevaeh shifted again, rapping her fist on a small section of wall. “He’s in here.”
I stared at her, but Elias moved forward. “How do you know?”
“I can hear him breathing.”
Relief washed over me, stained by resounding terror. What hell had Mordecai inflicted on him that he was alone in a hidden room?
Maybe this was why security was so lax. Mordecai must have assumed that if I tried anything I wouldn’t find the one Fae I couldn’t leave without, so he would have time to apprehend me.
Elias pushed at the edges of the wall, looking for a way in. I stepped forward, pressing on a few different stones. Nothing happened. There didn’t seem to be a switch. I growled in frustration, slamming my foot into the wall. Pain shot through the already angry leg and I swore softly.
But the panel opened.
Blinding light filled our eyes. I blinked rapidly, desperate to clear my vision, desperate to know for sure.
The room was small, but Tarik . . .
Tarik was here.
Tears sprang to my eyes. Mordecai had stripped him bare. Anger rippled through me, knowing what that meant to the Fae, how he must have felt. He was sprawled over a small cot, wings spread wide cramped and twisted in a way that looked painful. His arms were strapped down.
My attention fell to his legs. Ice slammed into my veins, and a sob shuddered through me.
That animal, that monster, that . . . the rainbow of words that assaulted my senses were nothing compared to the agony that ripped open my chest. My hands slid to my mouth.
Tarik’s legs laid at awkward angles on the crimson stained sheets, a mess of blood and bruises. Devastation. Utter devastation. I scanned the room and, when I caught sight of the silver tray nearby, my tears fell unrestrained.
A hammer.
Mordecai had beaten him, broken his limbs, abused and tortured him far beyond what he had done to the other Fae. I had known, or suspected he would, but this . . . My heart crumbled. How could he do this? Elias and Nevaeh had moved past me to unstrap his arms. I crept closer, sitting tentatively on the edge of the cot.
A small red spot caught my eye and I gently lifted Tarik’s wrist so I could examine the mark. A dragon’s eye. I thought of the brand on my neck. That rage flared again. This one was personal, to him and me both.
Mordecai had attacked Tarik because of me.
Because he assumed I meant something to Tarik.
I knew, and I had done nothing. Could do nothing. I didn’t want to look down, to examine his legs more carefully. Even from the door I could tell the damage was beyond my abilities to heal, and the helplessness that welled up was suffocating. Still, I prodded gently at the wounds, confirming my worst suspicions. Fire surged through my veins, burning away my sadness. This was wrong. And I wasn’t going to stand by and let this happen again. To anyone.
“Are they broken?” Elias asked, breaking my thoughts. His face was pale. When I nodded, he held up a
