by T. S. Snow
That would’ve been so awkward.
I elbowed Andres in the gut, stepping away from him and heading to the bathroom.
“What’s the situation, sir?” I tried again when I realized Christian had been quiet for a while.
He sighed on the other side of the line. “It appears that Ricardo Illudere has escaped, and we need all personnel onboard to find him, quickly. He was being escorted out of the city, but his car was hijacked and the agents who were escorting him showed up dead. We think it might have been an attack orchestrated by the resistance, and we fear they might be recruiting Ricardo.”
I gulped.
“I don’t have to tell you how disastrous it could be for the Illuderes, for all of Arcane, if Ricardo was turned,” he finished, and I just stood there, listening, while my brain processed all the information and tried to come up with all sorts of outcomes.
It was bad.
So. So bad.
“Blair?” I asked, not daring to breathe. I remembered Blaze had told us she had gone with Ricardo Illudere to make sure he wouldn’t try anything crazy.
“Agent Illudere is fine. She only escorted him to his house, then other agents picked up the job. She’s on her way back to AMIA to make her report.”
Thank Goddess.
“What’s wrong, Char? Is Blair okay? Did something happen to her?” Andres asked from beside me, and I turned to look at him.
“Who’s there?” Christian asked in my ear. He could probably hear Andres, considering he was standing so damn close to me now.
“Andres, sir,” I answered, and then turning to Andres, I said, “She’s fine, don’t worry.”
“Make sure he knows to head to the Illudere mansion. He should be safer there,” Christian told me, and I nodded.
“Yes, sir. Will do. You can send the car over; I’ll be ready by the time it gets here. And don’t worry, I’ll let him know,” I replied.
“Good.” And with that, he hung up.
Without a goodbye, like always.
I had a bad feeling shit was about to hit the fan and things would only get worse.
I turned to face Andres, who was staring at me nervously, waiting for me to fill him in.
“Andres…it…it seems your uncle has managed to escape. Christian—AMIA’s director told me to let you know, and to tell you to go home. We don’t know if he’ll come after you or not.”
Andres cursed, running a hand through his bed hair and searching the floor for something.
“I have to warn my parents. Fuck. Where is my phone?” he said, talking more to himself than anything else, so I ran over to the bathroom.
“Right. Don’t forget to put clothes on before you leave, though. I need to head to AMIA,” I said.
Andres yelled in triumph when he found his phone. Or at least I assumed that was why.
“Char, wait,” he said, just when I was closing the bathroom door.
I turned and saw him running to me. He picked me up in his arms, kissed me until I thought I’d combust, then released me.
“For luck. Go find the bastard. I’ll man things at home and make sure everyone is okay. Please text me periodically so I’ll know you’re okay too.”
I nodded, unable to form words. I was still getting used to my relationship with him, and his easy affection always made me feel all warm and fuzzy.
Andres winked and turned to call his family, so I closed the bathroom door and went to take a cold shower.
By the time I got out of the bathroom, Andres had left the apartment. I headed to the kitchen, meaning to make myself some kind of snack because I’d gone too long without food yet again, but the intercom rang before I could reach the kitchen.
Dammit, the car was here.
I picked it up just to say I was going right down, then called the elevator.
Once I was downstairs, I was surprised to find the driver Christian sent wasn’t Sidney.
Sidney had been my driver pretty much ever since I’d joined AMIA, and I considered him a friend. I missed the old man, but I supposed with the level of urgency, the boss had just sent whomever was closest.
It’d also explain how he got here in less than twenty minutes.
“Good afternoon, Miss Carter,” he said, holding the door open for me. The driver was wearing a suit I’d learned to associate with AMIA, and he had brown hair and was wearing sunglasses, even though the sun was about to set. But I supposed that was one of the worst times to be driving, since sometimes the light could hit you straight in the eye.
“Good afternoon,” I replied, getting in the backseat of the black SUV. Seriously, AMIA’s cars were all the same, and it was kinda funny how they wanted to go undercover when their cars stood out like a sore thumb.
I sent Andres a text to let him know I was on my way to AMIA, then texted Bast saying I had some work stuff to do before throwing my phone in my purse.
I stared out of the window as he drove, frowning when I realized one very startling fact.
This was not the way to AMIA.
Wherever he was taking me, it was the opposite direction.
Cursing mentally, I reached in the pocket for my MET, but the driver saw the movement from the rearview mirror and he spoke before I could act.
“I have both Logan Nightshade and Theodore Soulbinder. If you try anything funny, I just need to say one word and they’ll be gone,” he threatened.
My blood froze in my veins, and I narrowed my eyes at him.
“How are you going to do that while you’re driving?” I challenged.
“He may be driving, but I’m not. And I have them,” said a familiar voice from over the speakerphone of the car, sending a chill down my spine.
I was so fucked.
“Prove to me that you have them,” I demanded.
There was some shuffling on the line, and then Theo’s voice seemed to come from all over the place.
“Char, don’t! Get the fuck out of there while you can! We—” He got cut off and then grunted in pain.
My hands shook as I took my hand out of my pocket and raised it to show I wasn’t armed.
They had Theo, and if what they said was true, then they had Logan too.
I couldn’t risk them.
I’d just have to find a way to save all our asses once I saw them again.
32
Blaze
This was a mess of epic proportions.
AMIA was on high alert because of Ricardo Illudere’s escape…or possible kidnapping.
Who the fuck knew at this point?
All agents were running around trying to find a clue, any clue on where he might be, and the director had just told me to go pick Char up because her regular driver—I didn’t even know she had a regular driver—was on a mission.
Which was fine. It wasn’t like I’d have to go face the woman I’d fallen for after I’d had my heart broken and found out she was in a committed relationship with two other men. One of whom just so happened to be the heir of a “rival” Arcane family, whose uncle may or may not be out to get him.
I had to put my feelings aside though, because as the Magical Engineer who’d developed Andres’ MET, the one he’d used to win the duel against his uncle, I knew Char might be in danger.
And I’d be damned if I’d let anything happen to her. Whether she was my girl or not, she deserved to be kept safe.
Right now, I was the only one who could ensure her safety.
I left AMIA and drove to the address I’d been given, the same one I’d been to before—her boyfriend’s place.
My hands gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white.
You need to get over her, Blaze, I reminded myself.
But I thought I’d have more time to…organize my thoughts and feelings before I’d have to face her again.
How naïve.
I reached her building and texted to let her know I was waiting.
One minute turned into two, that turned into five…and still no sign of her.
>
Frowning, I tried calling her, but it went straight to voicemail.
Dammit, why did she always forget to charge her phone?
I ran a hand over my head in frustration. I really didn’t want to have to go all the way up there and risk running into her boyfriend, but I didn’t think I had much of a choice.
Unless…
I picked up my phone again and called Andres. If I knew him at all, he’d be with Char, and he could pass the message along to her.
“Hey, man, is it okay if I call you back? I’m kind of in the middle of something here,” Andres said, sounding distracted.
I gritted my teeth. I did not need to know what he was doing. Or rather, whom he was doing.
“Is Charisma with you? I swung by to pick her up, but her phone is either off or out of service.”
“What do you mean? She texted me about twenty minutes ago, said she was on her way to AMIA.” Andres’ answer had air rushing from my lungs. All the blood went straight to my head, and I had to hold on to the steering wheel so I wouldn’t pass out.
“No. I…I just got here. I was the one sent to pick her up,” I responded.
Andres cursed in my ear. “Listen, I’m at my parents’ because of the whole Ricardo thing. I can’t get out of here.” His voice became more and more urgent as he spoke, his desperation matching mine.
“I’ll call Bast and have him meet you there so you two can check inside. Who knows? Maybe she meant she’d be on her way but she hadn’t left the house yet. Go on up, bang on the door to see if she answers. I’ll call Bast and have him meet you there. Don’t panic!” His last comment was more him talking to himself than to me.
“I’m on my way. Call Bastille. I’ll let you know if I find anything,” I replied, getting out of the car.
This was bad.
This was so, so fucking bad.
Please Goddess, let this all be just a misunderstanding.
I needed to speak to the director, but he wasn’t answering his damn phone.
Oh.
I knew just who to call.
I dialed Blair’s number, hoping she’d pick up for a change.
She picked up on the third ring.
“Hey, Loverboy, what’s up?”
“Blair. Hey. Listen, are you at AMIA?” I asked while I ran to the building. I buzzed every single floor until someone opened the door for me.
“Yeah, why?” I didn’t need to be near her to know I’d piqued her interest.
There was a lot of cursing coming from the intercom, but someone finally did open it. I wasted no time getting inside the building.
“Is the director anywhere near you? Can you put him on the line?” I ran to the stairs rather than waiting for the elevator and started to take them two at a time.
Thank fuck it was the fifth floor and not the twentieth or some shit.
“Sure. But, Blaze, what’s going on? You sound out of breath.” She wasn’t wrong—I was out of breath.
“It’s Charisma. She’s missing,” I answered and heard Blair let loose a stream of curses that were honestly impressive.
“Explain,” she demanded, and I could hear her running. Hopefully, she was on her way to find the director and not on her way to the car to come help me look because I had no use for her here.
I opened my mouth to do just that, but she started talking to someone, so I just focused on reaching the fifth floor.
“Agent Futhark, you’re on speakerphone. What’s this about Carter missing?” The director’s booming voice sounded in my ear just as I opened the fire escape and ran to Char’s apartment.
“Sir.” I stopped in front of Bastille’s door, taking in lungfuls of air. “I arrived at the address, and Charisma wasn’t answering her texts or her phone. I spoke with Andres Illudere, and he said she’d texted him saying she was on her way to AMIA. I’m currently outside the door, and I’ll keep ringing the doorbell to see if she answers.”
There was more cursing on the line, before the director yelled, “Get me someone from tech up here NOW!”
Usually, I might’ve felt sorry for the people around him, because an angry director was scary as fuck, but right now, we needed to panic.
I rang the doorbell, just stuck my finger there and kept it ringing constantly. If Char was inside, even if she was in the shower, there was no way she would be able to avoid running to see what the noise was all about.
Please, please be inside, Char. Please answer the door. I repeated the words over and over in my head like a mantra.
“Blaze, are you at Bast’s? I can tell you where the spare key is so you can check inside for her,” Blair suggested, and I frowned.
Blair knew Char’s boyfriend too? Did everyone know this guy except for me?
What the hell?
“You know Bastille?” I asked, and there was a long pause on the other side of the line.
“That’s really not important right now. You’re there, right?” she said, brushing me off.
She was right—this wasn’t the time to worry about anything other than Char.
“Yeah, I am.”
“Okay, so—” she started, but I interrupted when I heard the ding of the elevator.
“Wait, Blair. Someone is coming.” I turned, hoping to see Char’s bright pink hair when the elevator’s doors opened, only to have that hope being snuffed out when I saw who was heading my way.
Bastille rushed to my side, and I could see the sheer panic in his eyes when he saw me on the other side of the door.
“Who is it?” Blair asked, in my ear.
“Bastille is here,” I replied, and he sent me a questioning look.
“Put him on the line,” Blair demanded, and I switched the call to speakerphone. “Bast?” she asked, and he visibly flinched at hearing her call him.
“She’s been taken, Blair. And not just her, either. They have Logan Nightshade and Theodore Soulbinder too,” Bastille said, and all the blood left my body.
Fuck.
Epilogue
Logan
I didn’t know what was worse about this imprisonment; the terrible accommodations, or Theodore Soulbinder’s company.
Over the last twenty-four hours, I’d gone through every single range of emotion known to man, and I’d finally settled on one.
I was livid.
At myself, for falling into this stupid trap, at Soulbinder for demanding to accompany me into that goddamn building and then worrying so much about some stupid ghosts, that he’d used up all his magic to set them free, dooming both of us.
I wasn’t entirely convinced he’d be much help in the fight that happened, but surely he couldn’t have been any worse than he was by being unconscious, right?
Our captors had only made one other appearance after the first one, to pick up Theodore and take him...somewhere. Based on the condition he came back in, I didn’t need to think too hard to know what they were doing to him.
Still, nobody had mentioned anything about negotiations.
They knew who we were, and what we represented, so why weren’t they at least trying to negotiate?
They couldn’t want us dead; if they did, it would’ve made much more sense to just kill us when they had the chance, rather than keeping us as rabid pets.
As if conjured by my thoughts, footsteps suddenly echoed in the empty space, and both Soulbinder and I went on high alert. I stood up and assumed a fighting stance. At my side, Soulbinder did the same.
If we couldn’t use our magic, we’d have to rely on physical force.
Two men appeared, one of which was carrying an unconscious woman with a shock of pink hair in his arms.
My blood iced over.
Charisma.
“Char!” Soulbinder yelled from beside me, running towards the iron bars of the cell. “What have you done to her? What have you done to my Char?” he asked desperately, gripping the bars as if he wanted to physically tear them open and get to her.
He shouldn’t have bothered.
The brown-haired asshole from earlier raised his MET, sending a shock-wave right at Theodore, and making him drop to the floor, convulsing.
Waving his MET in warning at me, as if daring me to make a move, he opened the door to the cell, and they threw Charisma in with us, quickly closing the door and locking it before they left.
I noticed they didn’t use magic to keep us in, just human means.
Whether that would be good or bad for us was yet to be seen.
Theodore dragged his body over to where Charisma had been dropped, painstakingly moving closer to her inch by inch while repeatedly calling her name as if in prayer. When he finally reached her, he cradled Charisma in his arms with the utmost care, and he just held her there, rocking back and forth.
I turned my head to give him some privacy, even as I fought the urge to get closer and see for myself if she was okay.
“I’m sorry, Char. I’m so, so, so sorry. Please, please be okay. I’m so sorry,” he kept repeating the words over and over.
There was so much pain, so much despair, so much…love.
I’d always known Theodore was obsessed with Charisma, but I’d always figured it was because he felt possessive of her. Since they’d been together for so long, I thought a part of him just felt like he owned her.
However, the scene unfolding in front of me proved me very, very wrong.
Theodore loved Charisma with everything he had, and whatever reasons he’d had for stepping away from her in the past, one thing had become abundantly clear: he’d never stopped loving her.
I had a feeling it was love that made him be a dumbass and break up with her.
That made things infinitely more complicated.
“Theo?” Charisma’s voice was weak as she called his name, more a question than anything else, and I couldn’t stop myself from turning to them.
I couldn’t stop my body from walking closer to her. I needed to see with my own eyes that she was okay.
Charisma’s silver eyes were wide open and full of tears as she looked around the room, trying to make sense of where she was, of what was going on.