“I found it, behind Medusa,” he whispered, taking a quick picture. The door opened, creating the same black border he had seen on the drawing. Opening it wider, he ducked inside, his stomach churning as the cogs on the rear of the door turned, resetting the mural and sealing him inside the brightly lit area. The stone staircase had two thin, equally spaced grip ramps on either side, making it easier to transport things down. The button on the side of the wall suggested it was electric, conjuring images of Ashley being dragged down there, fighting, screaming, afraid, while hands grabbed at her, keeping her still as the ramps whirled, easing whatever she was secured to down the steps. He heard his teeth grind through the set of his jaw, reminding him to breathe. His every muscle bristled with energy, the need to tear this place to shreds as he sought her, but that would help nothing.
At the base of the stairs there were three large openings, one on each wall, and a smaller room just behind him to the left, which he could see was empty but which held all manner of restraints, from wall-mounted shackles and suspension cables, to Saint Andrew’s crosses and shackled benches. Somewhere to the right he could hear the sound of screaming—the kind of screams that set every primal nerve aflame. Edging forward, he saw the first room was divided into sections. Small concrete walls created a line of cells in the rear, while empty beds were secured at intervals in the light. The entire area was paved like a wet room, with large drains at intervals. The undertones of bodily fluids assailed his senses, growing stronger as he approached the first cell.
The door wasn’t locked, merely pulled closed. The concrete enclosure was nothing more than a room with a metal-framed bed secured above a large drain. Looking inside, he could see the spasming body of a man. Froth from his mouth stained his matted beard. Stepping inside, Conrad unfastened the restraints, feeling the man’s paper-thin flesh tear beneath his grasp as he turned him on his side while the foaming vomit continued to flow. There was no time for this. No time for anyone but Ashley. He had to find her.
“Tess, we need medics here now. They’re definitely Tabus, I’m going to check the other cells,” he informed her.
Conrad moved from cell to cell, room to room, seeing gaunt and emaciated figures, hearing their pleas and screams. At each turn his desperation rose. His senses fought through the offensive odours, trying to catch even the faintest hint of Ashley, of lavender and honey mingled within the stenches. But all he found were more strangers, imprisoned in the same manner as the first. He was about to enter the final collection of rooms when the sound of hurried footsteps caused him to falter. A booming voice froze him into place and he cursed beneath his breath, his vision straying to the final room. She had to be in there. His muscles tensed, ready to run, ready to push him to the final room. She had to be there. She just had to be.
“Hands where we can see them. On your knees, now,” commanded the voice from behind him. Conrad obeyed instinctively, dropping to the floor, his hands upon his head. He felt his arm being pulled behind him and the sharp cut of cuffs being fixed into place. He knew better than to speak, than to agitate the Blue Coats who flooded the area, moving from room to room relaying orders. “All clear, Detective Mendel.”
Conrad heard his father descending the stairs and hung his head. Despite his gaze being fixed upon the floor, he noticed the medical stretcher being wheeled from the right as other medics—identifiable by the Rod of Asclepius clearly displayed on the front and back of their body armour—continued to weave in and out of the rooms.
“What did you think you were playing at, boy?” His father was enraged, he could feel the heat radiating from him. “Coming down here on your own, disobeying my orders? Of all the—”
“Did they find Ashley?” he whispered, fearing he already knew the answer. He had watched the medics wheel two sealed bags from the only room he had yet to enter. His father’s hand fell heavily on his shoulder before he felt the restraints on his hands slacken. He rubbed the ache from his wrists. The metal used by the Blue Coats had been specially crafted to ensure no preternatural being could utilise their abilities while in custody.
“There’s no way of knowing yet.” His father’s voice held a soft compassion, a tone usually unheard during a scolding. His vision strayed towards the staircase. She couldn’t have been there
“Please, I checked all the rooms but that one.” He gestured towards the departing gurneys, who froze as his father raised his hand. “Please, I need to know.”
He could feel the dampness on his cheeks as his mind reeled in turmoil. Should he hope to gaze upon the dead and find her, or pray she had been sold into a life of abuse and suffering? Which fate should he wish upon her? Life! He had to hope she was out there somewhere, because if she was, he would find her, no matter how long it took. He felt his shoulders sag as the medics resealed the bags. He would find her.
Chapter 14
When Conrad was escorted from the premises, the noise on the streets was almost overwhelming. Sirens blared, vehicle doors slammed, instructions were relayed, all amongst the uneasy chatter of the confused crowd and growing number of spectators. His head hung low as he wondered where they could have moved Ashley to, and when. His gaze sought Will, wondering if he had betrayed them, alerted them of their plan, but as he gave a statement to a Blue Coat, he seemed distressed. Good, he thought.
His fists clenched. He wished they could have arrived sooner, that he had met her from work like he’d intended to. If he had, then none of this would have happened. He should have made her stay, made her wait. No one would have laid a hand on her with him there. He winced as his nails caught his scalp as he passed a hand through his hair, while images of all the horror awaiting her assaulted his every sense. Nausea rose and rage followed. His other-self was becoming harder to restrain. It cried out for him to find her and destroy anything that got in his way. He knew a rampage would help no one, achieve nothing, but holding back the tide building within him was becoming impossible. She was his.
He had wasted too much time—time spent fretting that he would hurt her, ignoring the fact she felt like home, like a missing part of himself. He should have known better, he should have trusted himself and because he hadn’t, she could be lost forever. Tess had mentioned an auction, so perhaps there was still time. If she was sold, the chances were they would never see her again, and if they did, it was doubtful she’d be the same. He drove back the despair, the sadness. He needed his anger, and he had plenty of it. It would be his crutch, it would keep him going, drive him onward until she was safe.
Two arms were suddenly embracing him. He became aware of Tess talking, pulling him back from his thoughts as she told him how the Blue Coats had appeared without warning with a seek-and-recover missive, and that the call about the located Tabus had not come from them, but from an undercover P.T.F. agent who had been assigned there due to telepathic abilities. Apparently this person had heard Conrad’s thoughts before Tess had even had a chance to take action.
Glancing through the crowd, Conrad saw Jack sitting on the bonnet of his car, talking with one of the agents. His dark combat gear had the P.T.F.’s distinctive emblem on the back. The figure turned as Conrad emerged, fixing him with a stare that demanded answers whilst also possessing another quality—hope.
“She wasn’t there.” He glowered as he approached Jack and the agent.
“Now what do we do?” Tess questioned, jumping when Detective Reuben’s voice spoke from his position directly behind her.
“You leave this to the professionals. Don’t make me lock you up. What you did was brave, but it was also downright foolish,” Reuben scolded. “What the hell were you thinking, going in there half-cocked? What if things had gone south? What if the basement hadn’t been deserted? Do you even realise what you could have walked into? I know you’re worried about your friend, but that’s no excuse to put yourselves in danger. I expected better from you.”
“I’ll keep an eye on them, sir,” the stranger said. “Alex Ciele, P.T.F. squad alpha.”<
br />
Conrad suddenly realised who this person was. He was Ashley’s brother. As he watched him, he noticed Alex tap a decoration on his left arm that showed he was in command of his own unit. Reuben eyed him warily before nodding.
“Come on, I’ll take you back to my sister’s place. We’ll come back for your car in the morning, grab any personal items you’ve left there.” Escorting them into his large vehicle, Alex saluted respectfully towards Reuben before departing.
“You can’t seriously be keeping us under house arrest? Not now,” Conrad heard himself growl. “Ashley’s out there somewhere. We can’t just leave her. If you’re not going to help us, let us out here, we’ll find her somehow. I have to. She can’t, we can’t—” His fist connected with the soft leather of the seat as words failed him.
“Conrad, I assume. Ashley is my little sister. I know better than anyone that there is a time when you have to let the professionals do their thing. But this isn’t one of them. Your father has my respect, but he’s not up to point on this one. His hands are tied by bureaucracy, treaties and red tape. He may as well be fighting with both hands tied behind his back, deaf, and blindfolded.” Alex glanced in his rear view mirror at Conrad. “Thanks for what you did back there. Not a lot of people would have the courage to go it alone.”
“I wasn’t alone.” He glanced towards his friends appreciatively but, as his gaze fixed on Will, he found it hard to muster any gratitude for the person responsible.
“Now we’re far enough away, here’s the plan. I’m going to turn off in a moment, and Jack, you’re going to get that sketch pad of yours out and get drawing.”
“It doesn’t work like that. I wish it did.”
“Tonight it does. We’ll make it. But it won’t be pleasant.”
The car wheels crunched beneath the forest debris as Alex turned off onto an old dirt track. Conrad sat in silence, watching, his vision constantly flicking towards the mirrors. He couldn’t quite tell if Alex was looking at him, or trying to make sure no one was following. When the vehicle rolled to a halt, Alex unclipped his belt, the noise loud against the hopeless silence that had descended. ”Come on, we’re here.”
Jack looked through the car window at the blanket of darkness above that was occasionally punctuated by a star, making itself seen beyond the swaying branches of the surrounding trees.
“Come on, Jack,” Tess called, alerting him to the fact everyone was out of the car now except for him.
Shaking his head, he unclipped his belt, hurrying toward them. The bare trees whispered eerily, their noise as the wind raced past drowning out their footsteps in the thick mud. Keeping his mind clear, Jack tried to recreate the feeling of tension behind his third eye, to call a vision to him. But it was to no avail. Before, he had complained about not being able to do anything, but now there was a task that fell to him he feared his ability would fall short. After several minutes of hiking and more failed attempts than he could count, they encountered a barrier of luscious green pine trees. Their shed needles created a thick, cushioned blanket on the floor in such a way that it almost seemed artificial.
“What are we doing here?” Jack questioned, as Alex continued to lead them. Suddenly, they emerged into a clearing and found themselves staring at a henge. The first thing Jack noticed was the enormous purple gemstones buried within the earth, tracking their path. He saw them spiral inward, their colours mirroring that of a rainbow, until they finished at a large quartz circle in its very centre, overlooked by a huge altar stone. This large, flat crystal was surrounded by a horse-shoe shape of raised stones. But by far the most amazing feature was the three circles of standing stones. The whole area surrounding the stone monoliths had clearly been maintained, possessing a distinctive manicured appearance. Wild flowers grew sporadically, yet there seemed to be a pattern to their locations, a meaning Jack couldn’t quite decipher.
“This henge was used by the Perennials when erecting the barrier. It is a place of power that joins with others of the same nature across our land. Sitting at its centre allows a person to fully tap into their abilities. It is a place utilised by the P.T.F. to ensure its members are fully aware of their capabilities. Its boost is only short-lived, but it allows the assessors to catalogue the full range of a person’s capabilities, so they know how hard to push them.”
“So, what are we doing here?” Jack asked again.
“You’re going to utilise it to help us find Ashley. But you’re going to need help. This location provides a boost to dual-nature preternaturals, those of us with two aspects to our self. Human preternaturals, those with magic, are often too inexperienced and delicate to survive the surge of energy. That’s where your friend Will comes in. As a healer, he will be able to divert his energy to you so you don’t burn out, while making sure you suffer no lasting damage,” Alex explained.
“You up to that, William?” Conrad spat bitterly.
Jack knew what he was thinking; he was thinking the same thing. His life was in the hands of the person responsible for this situation in the first place.
“He will be.” Alex turned a cold glare towards William. “My little sister saw to that, didn’t she?” There was a menace in his voice that caused even Jack’s hairs to stand erect. “Let’s do this quickly. Every moment wasted increases the chance we won’t find her.” There was the weight of something left unsaid to the sentence, and Jack knew each one of them heard the unspoken concern.
Jack nodded, his feet moving of their own accord, guiding him through the stone circles until he stood upon the quartz stone, his sketchpad clutched in his trembling grasp. Alex motioned that he should sit, while positioning William just outside the stone horseshoe. He leaned in close, his deep voice an inaudible mumble as he whispered something into William’s ear that made him visibly pale as his posture deflated.
“Okay, Jack, now all you need to do is ring the bell, close your eyes, and focus on Ashley. I’ll guide you,” Alex promised.
Jack glanced around and spotted a rope trailing across the floor to the stones. As he pulled it, he felt the smooth movements of pulleys before a bell, somewhere behind him, chimed.
Closing his eyes, Jack allowed Alex’s voice to wash over him, following his every instruction. He thought of Ashley, bringing her image into his mind. His body grew both light and heavy, and it was then that the pain started. It was subtle at first, a building heat, starting at the crown of his head and progressing to his root chakra. With each passing second, the heat became more intense, burning, smouldering until all he could feel was the pain. Alex’s voice had been lost as the pressure intensified. He felt as if his forehead were spitting open. Agony enveloped him, dragging him into a world where it was the only thing in existence. He saw the odd flicker of an image trying to appear, but the shredding sensation radiating from within was too great for any clarity.
Just as he felt he could take no more, as the need to withdraw away from the barrier of pain he tried to force himself through became too great, and he felt his body screaming in surrender while the protective light he had imagined surrounding him turned into darkness, his body turned ice cold and everything stopped. Light as air, free from the burden of pain, he found himself looking down upon an unfamiliar building. He had the sensation of being drawn through its walls into a room forged from mirrors, yet he cast no reflection.
Shackled to the far wall, her arms above her head, was Ashley. Her rust-coloured hair had been styled to perfection, drawing attention to both her pale complexion and her delicate facial features. She was wearing a burlesque dress that fitted her form like a second skin, with long slits up the sides that exposed the jagged scar of her injury. The heaving of her bosom beneath the corset brought him comfort, revealing there was still breath within her body, that she still lived. He tried to call out to her, to stir her from slumber and let her know help was coming, but his voice never came.
A sharp tug yanked him away with nauseating speed. Light exploded around his eyes, replaced by darkness a
s his arms flailed, fending off someone’s restraining grasp as he spilt the contents of his stomach. His body shivered and the cold sensation upon his skin began to burn. He moved, feeling the icy layer crack slightly, its white texture melting away to water just moments before he realised the strange shimmering had been from a film of frost. His muscles screamed in agony as pain pierced his temples. He felt someone’s hands moving upon him, their motion leaving some manner of warm fluid smeared upon his skin and, for a few moments, a fraction of the pain eased. Turning his head, he saw Will, with blood tracking from his ears and nose. His complexion was so pale that the ruby fluid appeared black. He heard Will cough and noticed the spray of blood left in the cough’s wake. He wanted to say thank you, realising Will had put himself within the circle, at the mercy of the same energy, to ensure he survived, but his arms gave beneath him as his body grew weak.
“No, you don’t,” Alex scolded, dragging the two figures to the outside of the henge.
Jack felt someone slapping his face gently. He tried to fend it off, his hands weakly batting away the unwanted touch. He needed to sleep, to descend into the pain-free bliss of the darkness that beckoned. It took a few moments to realise his assailant was Alex, who stood over him, pushing a pencil and his sketch pad into his hand, ordering, “Don’t rest yet. Draw first.”
Salvation's Kiss (Tales Of Mython Book 1) Page 19