“Good. Let’s go.” Falden lifted his chin, and Gareth grinned as he disappeared again. Falden turned to the Caldorian. “You in command of this op?”
“Yes. Who are you?” Yorek’s eyes narrowed dangerously as he took in Falden’s armor. His sword. His markings. “What the hell’s going on here?”
Falden didn’t waste time arguing. “I work with King Dagan. Elite guard. We run Dungeon 6.”
There was a flicker of recognition in the Caldorian’s gaze, and Falden knew the Lumerians had not been perfect in their efforts to remain hidden. Remain secret. His Knights had been too comfortable for too long. There were rumors among the Caldorians on base, rumors about Dungeon 6 and invisible warriors.
When Yorek simply stared, waiting for more information, Falden continued. “Gareth and I are going inside. More of my Knights are on the way. Take the building, but be careful. There are humans here fighting, but there are also more Darkoor and a Dark One.”
That made Yorek take a step back and raise his weapon. “Here? Why?”
Good questions that Falden didn’t have time to answer. “In case this goes badly, make sure King Dagan knows that both the Council and the A’Nua Na-KI know about Sasha. Can you make sure you tell him that?”
“I don’t understand.” The Caldorian warrior shook his head, frowning. “Everyone knows King Dagan has found his mate. What are you not saying?”
Gareth took the opportunity to smack the much younger male on the back of the head. “No time. Just do as you’re told. And don’t get in our way. Council. Queen Sasha. A’Nua Na-KI. Got that?”
Yorek nodded and Falden activated his armor, disappearing before the Caldorian’s eyes.
“When do we get that armor?” Yorek’s friend, silent until now, fired a shot over the pile of corpses on the floor, not missing a beat.
Chapter Twelve
A warm, metallic tang coated Isabella’s cracked lips, the smell of her own blood strong in her nostrils. She was dying. She knew it like she knew each time she pulled air into her lungs, it would burn like acid, and each time she lifted her head, the world would spin. And spin.
And spin.
She held on stubbornly, hope keeping her fighting, not for herself…for Matthew. The twelve-year-old boy lay unconscious on the floor next to her. He was still breathing. Barely.
All she could do was pray that whatever drug they had given him would wear off with no ill effects. Until then, she had to hold on, remain conscious. Fight. She was too weak to carry Matthew out of here. She knew that. Holding on until he woke up and they could work together to get out of this hellhole was her only goal.
That was assuming she wasn’t eaten before then.
The terrifying charcoal colored creature rested near a table taller than her head. There were body parts on that table. Human. Alien. She wasn’t sure. Maybe a jumble of both. In the cup placed in the middle? Blood, some of it hers. She knew because they’d slit her arm and taken what they wanted as the creature watched with dead, hate-filled eyes.
She wanted to kill him. It. Whatever he was, he wasn’t human. More like a skeleton on an acid trip. His flesh was purest black, the color of deep space, black tar, with no gloss, no sheen, no life. His eyes were equally black, an abyss of nothing, glittering with evil. Pure. Evil. And where his eyebrows should have been curved pieces of bone protruded from its skin. The bone fragments formed patterns that covered parts of the monster’s face and neck. It’s chest. She’d never seen anything like it, and never wanted to see it again.
The creature ate and tossed his scraps to the floor where a dozen Darkoor scrambled and fought over the muscle left on a thigh, the fat left on a bone. The creature poured blood from his cup, and they ran their hands through the puddles on the floor, painted their flesh, the blood coloring the stark, bone-white rows of teeth a disgusting shade of red.
It was horrific. Macabre. If she hadn’t been on the verge of vomiting every time she opened her eyes, she would have thought it was a nightmare. Except nightmares happened when one was asleep, and she was very much awake. And in pain.
She held Matthew’s head in her lap and ran her fingers through the hair at his temple, cursing herself for being a thousand kinds of stupid.
She should have listened to Falden when he said it was too dangerous for her to speak to Bhaosz. She’d had no idea what he was, and once he showed her the truth, she should have waited, assembled a team, let the aliens who knew how to fight these evil creatures do the fighting.
But she’d been arrogant. The new power of her voice and her ignorance about what was really going on had led her on this wild-goose chase. And now she was very afraid she was going to die here. Matthew too.
Or worse.
For years she’d heard the phrase, a fate worse than death. Intellectually she’d known there had to be things worse than dying. But she’d never felt the truth of those words until now. She’d give anything to be back in Falden’s arms. She should have listened to him. Told him everything.
The creature raised a thigh to his mouth, held by the lower half of the leg. It was small. Human. She retched as his teeth tore the leg in half.
The leg of a woman? She didn’t want to know. Turning her head aside, she squeezed her eyes shut, dipped her head down toward Mathew to drown out the slurping sounds as the creature fed. The term blood market took on a whole new meaning. She’d naively assumed they meant only blood. Like a vampire. Not. This.
“Oh my God.”
That was it. Game over for her stomach. She crawled to the edge of the mat they’d chained her to as her stomach heaved. The collar around
