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End Game (The Foundling Series) Page 10
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“What’s left that hurts?” He advanced on me, knelt beside me on the floor, and began a clinical examination. “Your skin is ninety percent regenerated. One more session ought to do it. The ribs will still be tender, but you’ll look whole. That’s all the pretender cares about, the presentation, so that’s as far as I’ll take you. Further would be a waste of my time if she’s going to hand you off to this Ezra.”
“I’m good.” I waved him off me. “You patched me up, and I’ll definitely live, so thank you.”
“Alas, you’re no healer or clansman of mine. Your opinions matter less to me than the number of bones in the fish I ate for dinner.”
Again, he coated his hands in ointment and applied it methodically over my abdomen and my chest.
Again, he struck a flint and cradled fire between his palms until they roared with heat.
And again, he put his hands on me, and I let the dark swallow me whole.
CHAPTER NINE
Adam woke in a field with Kapoor crouched over him, a guard dog ready to tear into anything or anyone who came too near. The gauntness of his features told him Kapoor hadn’t left his side, even to hunt.
Groggy, he pushed himself into a seated position, his body throbbing like a bruise. “What happened?”
“Ambush.” Kapoor’s black eyes locked on him. “Bushta shot a neurotoxin into the sky to incapacitate Conquest and Cole.”
“I was affected?”
“No.” The old Kapoor would have smiled, maybe even laughed. “You got hit.”
That explained the ache in his left ribs and hip. “I don’t remember.”
“The toxin affected me. I began falling.” He gave the report without a hint of emotion. “You took a direct hit to spare me. You caught me and flew us a safe distance from the encampment. You were unconscious when I woke. This is the first time you’ve come around since then.”
Hunger roared in his gut, and cotton lined his mouth. “How long was I out?”
“Two days.”
He whipped his head toward Kapoor, and his eyes swam. “Luce has been a prisoner for two days?”
“Yes.”
Already certain of the answer, he couldn’t stop from asking, “Have you performed any recon?”
“No.”
“What about the coterie?” He examined their surroundings, but trees were trees in this part of the country. No identifying markers gave away their location. “Have they made contact?”
“Your phone rang.”
“You didn’t answer?”
“I wasn’t ordered to, so no.”
That spark of defiance gave Adam hope Kapoor might yet survive intact. “I’ll try Santiago.”
The phone in his pocket hadn’t sustained any damage, for which he was thankful, but the stream of texts and calls didn’t give him much hope the coterie had had any success in liberating Luce while he recovered from his injuries. The last text contained one line: Since you’re not answering, you better be dead.
As much as it hurt to bring the phone to his ear, he almost wished that was the case. “Santiago.”
“Ah, so you’re not dead.”
“Not quite.”
“Pity.”
“Have you located Luce?”
“It’s been forty-eight hours,” he scoffed. “What do you think?”
Annoyance snapped in his tone “Could you be less hostile?”
“Nope,” he seethed at him. “Could you be less of an ass nugget? Seriously. You let Luce and Cole get taken. You were right there. Right there. What the hell good are you if you can’t prevent two freaking dragons from getting shot out of the sky?”
“I got shot out of the sky.”
“Whatever.” Santiago covered the receiver, and a muffled argument broke out. “Kiss his ass if you want, Miller. I’m done puckering.”
“Wu,” Miller said, having taken over the call.
“Yes?”
“I want to be very clear that there’s only one reason why you’re still alive.”
Since Adam doubted Luce had told them about the sacrifice required of them, he assumed Miller meant the next best thing. “I’m the only person who can destroy the upper seal.”
“No.” A faint hiss escaped him. “You’re not within striking range.”
Adam wasn’t afraid Miller would unleash himself. To do so would mean destroying the world and all its inhabitants … including Maggie. She was an unexpected weak spot for the ouroboros, and Adam filed it away with all the other rainy-day measures he might one day be required to take.
“You haven’t mentioned the child,” Adam said, redirecting Miller. “Did she survive?”
A tense moment elapsed while Miller decided if he wanted to share. “She’s with us.”
“Good.”
“Don’t pretend you care, asswipe,” Santiago yelled in the background. “Do you even know her name?”
Names made things too personal, and Adam was out of time to get attached. Distance was best, for all of them. “She led you to her parents.”
“Yeah,” Miller admitted at last. “She cloaked herself, went in, verified their location, and came in search of us.”
“The child is a badass,” Santiago hollered then ended with an oomph.
“Shut up,” Portia growled. “Let them talk.”
“What’s our next move?” Adam asked, willing to let them take the lead if it eased their hostility.
“We’ve intercepted two runners.” Miller shut a door behind him, and the bickering on the other end went mercifully silent. “Both were carrying messages to post within charun communities.”
Adam didn’t have to ask, but he might as well hear the details. “What did they say?”
“Sariah is offering up Conquest in exchange for amnesty from Ezra.”
Bitter laughter closed his throat. “My father will kill her.”
“Yeah, and that would solve one of our problems. The issue is, she won’t fork Luce over to anyone but him, and if he puts in an appearance, he’ll kill Luce and Cole too.”
“Then we’ll have to make sure he doesn’t receive her summons.”
“We’re working on that. Santiago killed their cellular service, so they can’t text, call, or email. We’re picking off the ones chosen for hand deliveries.” Miller exhaled. “We’re keeping them as contained as possible, but Sariah is quick, and she knows how we operate. She’ll figure out we’re to blame when she doesn’t get an RSVP. We have to come up with a plan, and we have to move fast.”
Adam massaged his nape. “Where is she being held?”
“Underground.” Miller hesitated. “Possibly in one of the enclave bunkers.”
A twinge in his chest stole his breath. Kimora must have told Sariah, before or after she became host to a Drosera. Adam didn’t keep track of each bunker location. They were scattered across the country, their coordinates entered into a database to ensure they got routine maintenance, but he didn’t keep tabs on that program now that it had been in effect for so many years. The enclave handled it on their own.
“I can get us in.” He could call up Knox and get the proper code. “We’ll have to —”
“It’s too dangerous.”
“It might be our only shot at getting them out of there before Father catches wind of this.”
“Luce protected Cole when they went down. She’s injured. Badly. We inspected the crash site. There are scales everywhere. Blood and tissue too. Sariah knows Luce is worthless to Ezra dead. She’ll bring in a healer, but she’s not dumb enough to restore Luce to full strength. She’s too afraid Conquest will get out. That means we must be prepared for triage. We can’t count on her being able to fight her way out, or even walk on her own.”
“I have an idea.” He got to his feet, tested his balance. “Give me another day. Be ready to move in twenty-four hours.”
Adam hung up before Miller could protest.
Kapoor stared at him, waiting, but asked no questions. He couldn’t care less what happened to
Luce and Cole at this point. His entire being was focused on Ezra, a tuning fork vibrating with the need for harmony.
Aside from tracking, Kapoor was all but worthless to him in this state. “I need your help.”
Wings twitching, he wet his lips. “We hunt?”
“First, we hunt Drosera.” Adam noted the droop of Kapoor’s wings. “Then we hunt Ezra.”
Eyes gleaming, Kapoor flexed the claws on his fingertips. “What do you need?”
CHAPTER TEN
I jerked awake gasping and soaked to the bone. For a humiliating instant, I thought I had wet myself.
“There now.” A stooped female holding a bucket peered through the bars at me. “That ought to do.”
“What ought to do?” I scrambled back, relieved when my limbs obeyed me. “Why did you do that?”
“Mistress wants you clean.” She shrugged. “But not too clean.”
“Don’t worry.” Grime caked me from the sticky ointment and now the water formed bloody muck underneath me. “There’s no danger of that.”
Humming under her breath, she walked off, leaving me in a rank puddle. Guess a change of clothes wasn’t on the menu.
“Have they fed you?” The menu thing got me thinking about Cole. “Given you water?”
“No.”
Weird that it hadn’t occurred to me until now, when I was soaked, that I ought to be thirsty or hungry.
Scooching to a corner to dry, I asked him, “How long do you think we’ve been here?”
“Two or three days,” he estimated. “I’m hungry enough to eat the next jailer who comes to my door.”
For him to admit that, things must be dire. He wasn’t normally so obvious with his carnivorousness.
“I’ll get you food.” I had no idea how, but there must be a way to bargain. “And water.”
“We can’t trust anything they give us not to be dosed with whatever they shot at us. We need to save our strength for when it will do us the most good.”
A door opened and shut in the distance; our jailer come to gloat no doubt.
“You can’t keep going on air.”
“Oh, why not?” Sariah strolled down the hall. “He’s a dragon. He’s got wings. Air is practically sustenance for his kind.”
“I could say the same was true of betrayal and yours, but I seem to recall you have a healthy appetite.”
“Ouch.” She chuckled gaily. “Your aim is getting better, Luce. Good for you.”
“Can I help you?” I faked boredom. “I was in the middle of a conversation.”
A fraction of her amusement dimmed, but she rallied before I glimpsed the depths of her annoyance.
“I just wanted to let you know I’ve made contact with Ezra. He’s willing to negotiate.” She leaned in, looking me up and down. “You’ve looked better, but that can’t be helped. I’ll send down some clothes in a few. He strikes me as the kind who doesn’t appreciate seeing a woman’s pink parts. Or any other parts, honestly. Pretty sure there’s a reason the Malakhim are all male.”
How fun would it be to end Ezra’s reign by flashing him my boobs? I would do it in a heartbeat. Sure, it would be degrading, but could you imagine the bragging rights? I could be like Agnès Sorel, Dame de beauté, the chief mistress and love muffin of King Charles VII of France. As the first officially recognized royal mistress, she ensured her place in history. Her taste for risqué gowns, baring her breasts in public, and the portrait of her as The Virgin and Child Surrounded by Angels, didn’t hurt.
Either I was loopy from the healing, the hunger, or the thirst, or I had lost my damn mind from watching a mixed bag of Discovery Channel specials with Dad over the years.
All things considered I felt good about what I asked next. “Kapoor didn’t kill those scouts, did he?”
“Please.” She snorted. “We had to dose him with the toxin to implant the suggestion. I learned from the time I spent with Kimora that Malakhim are very pliant, and Kapoor had undergone similar training.”
“The suggestion,” I clarified. “You’re saying he didn’t kill the Oncas either?”
“We drugged him, hacked up a few charun with his sword, then told him to find you.” She shrugged. “I hoped to get more mileage out of him as a distraction, but leave it to you to see the best in everyone.”
Guilt pressed on my shoulders, the weight of my decision to use Kapoor a stone around my neck. “Why kill the scouts?”
“All this prep work has left the coterie with quite the appetite. I figured why not let them have a little fun? Best case, you blame the deaths on Kapoor. Worst case, you lose more time walking around in a circle while scratching your head.”
And that’s exactly what we had done. Point to Sariah.
“Gotta go, Auntie.” She checked her phone for a missed call or text. It must have been on silent. “I have to finalize a couple of things before our guest of honor arrives.”
She all but skipped down the tunnel, reminding me of the young girl’s skin she wore the first time I met her.
“That doesn’t sound good,” I said once we were alone. “I can’t believe Ezra would entertain her.”
Cole rubbed where the shackles reddened his skin over the rose gold silver bands encircling his wrists. He didn’t get a chance to reply. Yet another Drosera, I assumed, trundled down the hall wearing a middle-aged woman and straight to me. Her eyes were fever-bright and drool formed at the corner of her mouth.
“Mistress says put these on.” She shoved them through the bars. “Mistress says hurry up about it.”
Happy to have clothes, I didn’t put up much of a fight on that front.
“Mistress says not to eat the aunt,” she murmured to herself. “The aunt is not food.”
This must be one of the younger siblings. The skin she wore covered any physical deformities she might have in her natural form, but there was no hiding the twitch and jerk of her limbs as her coordination struggled and failed. I didn’t feel great about her talking to herself either.
“Mistress will fetch you soon.” She bared her teeth, hissed, then erupted into giggles. “Soon.”
I wrestled on the leggings then disappeared within the oversized shirt provided for me. There were panties but no bra, socks but no shoes. The garments all had tags, which comforted me. Except I spotted bloodstains on a few items that made me wonder if the Drosera hadn’t broken into a store to procure them.
“This should be fun.” I stood and began stretching to limber up from my healing and captivity. “I’m not sure if you’ll be allowed to watch the show, but I’ll take excellent notes to pass on later.”
If there is a later …
“Come here.” He reached through the bars, and I went to him. “Do whatever it takes to survive.”
“Are you telling me to run?”
“Yes.”
Lacing our fingers, I sighed. “You ought to know me better than that by now.”
“I do, but I can still hope.” He pressed his forehead against a gap in the bars. “There is the package to consider.”
Returning the favor, I stared at him, wishing the bars were thinner so that I could steal a kiss goodbye. “The package will be kept safe by the coterie and my dad, with or without us.”
He searched my face. “I love you, Luce.”
“I love you too.” I relished the texture of his fingers, coarse against my skin. “I’m going to get you out of here. The package likes you better anyway.”
A smile tickled the edge of his mouth, but he couldn’t hold on to the expression, and it slipped away.
We stayed like that, breathing each other’s air, hands linked past the point of pain, and waited.
Sariah didn’t keep us long.
“Ugh.” She ignored us while fiddling with the lock. “I never understood the fascination. It’s like a mental illness with you.”
Having my hunger for Cole compared to Conquest’s always left me cold. No doubt that was the point.
“Ezra is here?” I stood, putting
a wobble in my balance, and limped over to her. The puny act wasn’t a total lie. I didn’t have much oomph left. But that moment Cole had warned we should save our strength for? I could see it coming around the bend. “He came?”
“He’s waiting topside.” She got the door open and studied me. “You look like you just rolled out of your lover’s bed with that shirt and that hair.” She noticed the dirt on my socks, the wet spots that had turned slushy. “Or rolled in the mud.” She shrugged. “Not everyone could pull it off, but you do it well, Auntie.”
“Are you going to unchain me for this walk of shame, or do you expect me to bring the whole cellblock with me?”
“I’m getting to that part.” She snapped her fingers, and a dozen Drosera appeared holding weapons that varied from a pocket knife to a crossbow to an assault rifle. “These gentlemen will be keeping Cole company while I make introductions. No harm will come to him if you’re on your best behavior for our guest. I’ll even let him go after, if you leave willingly with Ezra. But … ” she gestured to the men, their eyes dark and wild, “ … misbehave, and I’m sure your imagination can supply how things will go.”
Long before I was attached to Cole beyond a surface attraction, she had known he would be my weak spot. He and I were so intertwined, our fates knotted, there was no separating us. So I didn’t kick myself for letting her see how much he meant to me when she would have done the same if Conquest were in my position.
“Don’t hurt him.” I put a growl in my voice, offset nicely by the knee I let buckle once. “I’ll cooperate.”
She frowned at my performance, and inwardly I cursed my dramatic streak. I had overplayed my hand. I was supposed to be healed. Stiffness and soreness were acceptable, but I shouldn’t be a total invalid. The closer I came to her, the more I shed the act until it appeared I was walking off stiffness. That appeased her, if her smile was anything to go on, and I made small adjustments as we went to prove I was sound enough for the auction block but too weak to cause much trouble.
“He’s agreed to allow you to coexist?” I made my voice faint but getting stronger. “You think you can trust him?”