The Shattered Dark sr-2

by Sandy Williams

Just the possibility causes my throat to tighten up, making it hard to draw in air. Losing him would crush me. There’s no doubt about that.

  My fear is mirrored in his eyes.

  “We’ll make it through today,” I tell him, and I don’t know if my words are meant to reassure him or to reassure myself.

  His jaw tightens, but he focuses on Naito, and says, “You have ten minutes. Then I’m coming in.”

  “Make them long minutes,” Naito says, setting off across the clearing.

  Long minutes, I think as I jog after him. Not a chance. The fae have good internal clocks when things are calm, but when they’re waiting on the shit to hit the fan, they’re as impatient as two-year-olds. We’ll be lucky if we have five minutes before he comes in after us.

  Miraculously, Naito and I reach the door of the main lodge without any hiccups. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a set of keys. He selects one, then slides it into the lock.

  “You have a key to this place?” I ask quietly.

  “No.” He grabs his dagger, then, keeping it safe in its scabbard, he hits the end of the key with his pommel three times.

  It’s so fucking loud, but I don’t see any movement from inside. A quick check to my right, and the other two buildings look quiet and still as well. So why do I feel like we’re being watched?

  It takes another two knocks for the key to turn. I have no idea how he did that, but I just tighten my grip on the strap of my sketchbook as Naito pushes the door open. Once we’re inside, Naito goes straight to an alarm pad. He reaches up to type in the code, but freezes, his finger hovering above the buttons.

  “It’s not on,” he says.

  My heart hammers in my chest. “We need to know if the serum is gone.”

  He nods. “This way.”

  I follow him through the main room of the lodge, though it’s hard to see that this place was once a resort. Only a wet bar in the back corner, the wide, thick wooden beams on the vaulted ceiling, and the huge stone fireplace toward the front of the room indicate its history. The rest of the area is taken up by long, plastic tables. On top of them are about a dozen flat-screen computers. They look out of place here, especially with the piles of old books in the back of the room. They’re in tall stacks on the floor and on a sofa pushed up against the wall. I read one of the titles as we pass by, Grennan’s Guide to Faery, and want to laugh. The fae are nothing like the winged creatures little girls dream of meeting.

  Naito moves into a smaller room in the back of the lodge, but I pause in its doorway, looking back at the computers. The screens are black, but they’re plugged in and, if the little green lights are any indication, they’re on.

  I walk to the nearest one. Move the mouse.

  A box pops up, asking for the password.

  I type in “vigilante” because, yes, I’m that uncreative. Plus, I’m stalling. Thinking. The details of how to make the serum might be on the hard drives. What other research could be here? Is it worth taking with us?

  “Hey, Naito,” I say, entering the next room.

  “What?” he asks, but I don’t answer immediately. He’s standing in front of a safe, twisting the knob to the right, back to the left, and back to the right again. And again when it doesn’t work. But that’s not what’s caught my attention. This room has been converted into a laboratory. Beakers are held in metal clamps, petri dishes sit beneath microscopes, and plastic tubing runs between bags of clear liquid and glass flasks. In short, this room looks like a fully equipped medical lab minus the sanitation.

  “McKenzie?” Naito stops what he’s doing to look at me.

  “Do you know the password for the computers?” He acted like he could disarm the alarm with a code, and he obviously has at least some hope of guessing the combination to that safe, so maybe his father is overconfident and hasn’t changed any of the vigilantes’ codes.

  Turning back to the safe, he says, “I might be able to guess it, but it’ll take too long to…Finally.”

  He opens the safe.

  I move forward, trying to see inside. “Is the serum there?”

  He’s shuffling through some things. Papers, stacks of money, more papers. He shakes his head. “No. It’s not here.”

  Damn. “Is that the only place it could be?”

  Naito closes the door, slips something into his waistband. A gun. I hate guns. It’s not just that they’re lethal and that one of them killed Kelia, but it feels like a bad omen to see this one. This break-in has gone well so far, but that could change in an instant.

  “This is where it’s most likely to be, but no,” Naito says. “My father could have put it somewhere else.”

  His gaze sweeps the room. We don’t have time to do a complete search of the compound—Aren’s probably already losing patience—but we need to be sure we’re not leaving it behind.

  “I think Lee’s already been here,” Naito says. His mouth is pinched. It’s his fault. There’s no denying that. His grief blinded him, and he made a decision that could cost us the war.

  But I can’t find the will to be angry at him. Instead, I say, “We should get out of here.”

  He nods.

  “But we can’t leave the research here,” I add. “Find a match or a lighter or something. We’ll burn the place down.”

  God, I sound like an arsonist, but we have to make sure we don’t miss anything that will allow the vigilantes to easily reproduce the serum.

  I leave Naito to search the lab and head back to the main room. The wet bar catches my attention. There could be a lighter there, and alcohol is flammable. Some of it is, at least.

  Ducking behind it, I start rummaging through the bottles. Most of them are red wines, mostly Pinot Noir, but there’s some vodka and rum, too. Those might fuel a fire. If I can find a matchbook.

  There’s a shallow basket behind one expensive-looking bottle, but it contains nothing but old corks, a simple corkscrew, and some pocket change. Nothing to start a fire with.

  “Did you find any…” Naito’s voice fades out, and he tilts his head to the side. That’s when I hear it, too, a whirling, clicking sound. I look to my left, where a staircase leads down to a lower level.

  “Basement?” I ask quietly.

  “Yeah,” Naito whispers.

  We should just leave—everyone knows not to go into the basement when unidentified sounds are coming out of it—but Naito’s already heading that way. I mutter under my breath and follow him.

  The basement isn’t a dark, gloomy hole. It’s brightly lit and is being used as an office. File cabinets line an entire wall, and a shiny, executive-sized desk is set up in the room’s center. On the end of that desk, a laser printer spits out page after page. It’s responsible for the sounds we’re hearing, and as we reach the bottom of the stairs and turn toward it, a hand reaches up to grab the newly printed documents.

  It’s Lee. He’s sitting on the floor, hunched over a tablet computer. He doesn’t read the pages that just printed; he clenches them in his fist. He hasn’t noticed us yet. His attention moves back and forth between the tablet and the mess of papers that are strewn all around him.

  I glance at Naito. His jaw clenches. The barrel of his gun dips toward the floor.

  His gun. I didn’t see him take it out, but as I watch, he seems to regain his resolve. He reaims at Lee’s head.

  “Naito,” I whisper. Something is obviously wrong with his brother. Lee’s eyes are puffy, bloodshot, and he’s pale.

  Naito lets out a breath and lowers his gun all the way. “Lee.”

  The other human ignores him.

  “Lee,” Naito says again, more emphatically this time.

  Lee finally looks up. “I’ve killed her.”

  “What?” Naito takes a step toward his brother.

  “I’ve killed her.” Lee’s gaze takes in the papers around him. “Paige. The Sight serum is fatal.”

  TWENTY-TWO

  I FEEL THE blood drain from my face. My skin becomes cold and prickly. “Paig
e is dead?”

  Lee stares at the papers around him, shaking his head. “They’ve all died. Within six months. They just…we’ll just die. I didn’t know. I swear to God, if I had, I wouldn’t have injected her.”

  “Wait, Lee.” I grab his shoulder as I crouch in front of him, shake it to make him meet my eyes. “Is Paige alive now?”

  Tears pool in his eyes. “She’ll never forgive me for this.”

  She’s still alive. I let out a breath, but my chest feels tight and achy. If Lee’s right about this, she won’t be alive for more than six months. Neither will he, but he seems more concerned about Paige than about himself.

  “Where is she?” I ask.

  He runs a hand through his jet-black hair. “With the Court fae. I wouldn’t let her come here with me.”

  “And where are the Court fae?” Naito asks, kneeling beside us. His gun is still in his hand. His finger runs across the trigger guard as if he’s itching to fire the weapon.

  “I’m supposed to meet them at the turnoff.”

  I have no idea how far away that is, but it sounds way too close. We need to get out of here.

  “You have the serum?” Naito asks.

  His brother’s nostrils flare. He turns toward the desk, and as he reaches underneath it, I see a tiny glass vial that’s rolled there. He grips it in his fist, staring down at the milky liquid inside. Then he stands and yells as he slams the vial down on the desk. It shatters, spreading the serum and Lee’s blood across the desk’s surface.

  Well, that’s one way to get rid of it.

  “I told you our father is a heartless bastard,” Naito says, straightening.

  I rise, too, and glare at Naito. Now is not the time for the I-told-you-so’s. His brother may be dying. My friend might be, too, my friend who never, ever should have become involved in the fae’s world. I don’t care if she’s chosen to be on the wrong side of the war, I’m not going to just let her die.

  My gaze falls to the mess of papers at our feet, then to Lee’s tablet computer. I bend down to scoop it up, touch the screen to turn it back on. It’s filled with long paragraphs of text and a few diagrams and scientific equations that I don’t understand.

  “Does this have all the serum research on it?” I ask Lee. He’s staring down at his bleeding hand, which is still flat on the top of the desk.

  “Yes.”

  “How do you know it’s fatal?” I ask him, sliding the tablet inside my sketchbook. The jaedric cover just barely cinches shut.

  “Dad told me.”

  I freeze. So does Naito.

  “Dad’s here?” he asks Lee.

  “I’m here.”

  The gun goes off before I turn. It’s loud and sudden, and I stumble back even though the bullet didn’t hit me. It hit Naito.

  “Naito!” I only make it a step before Nakano reaims at me.

  “No,” he says tersely.

  “He’s your son.” My breath is coming in short, angry intervals. Naito’s lying on the floor, his chest covered in blood. He’s still alive, still conscious, but he needs help. He needs…

  Aren. Naito and I have been in here more than ten minutes, and Aren would have heard the gunshot. He would have rushed in despite Naito’s warning if he was able to.

  If he was able to.

  I feel rage building under my skin. I’m going to kill Naito’s father.

  “You sent the text,” Nakano says. His voice is as cold as his eyes. He’s wearing camouflage, head to toe, and what’s left of his right arm is in a black sling. Kyol severed that arm when the vigilante aimed a gun at me before. He should have killed him, but Naito rushed to his side, trying to save his father. I know he regrets that now.

  “You knew we were coming,” I say, trying to ignore the gun he has aimed at my chest.

  “You put a period at the end of your message,” he says, and I don’t know if the disgust in his voice is because of that punctuation—a stupid, single period I don’t even remember typing—or if it’s because he has to talk to me, a human who colludes with fae. “I sent men to Georgia. And I kept a few here just in case.” He looks at Lee. “Can we use her?”

  Use me? As in, make me give them information about the fae? I glance in Lee’s direction, careful to keep my expression neutral. If Lee says no, that I’m not useful, I’m almost certain Nakano will fire that weapon.

  Lee is still staring down at his brother. Slowly, he looks up. He focuses on me.

  “Yes,” he says.

  “McKenzie!” Aren’s voice rings out from above.

  I close my eyes as relief pours over me. Nakano’s men haven’t killed him. He’s okay. If he gets the hell out of here, he’ll stay that way.

  “Take care of it,” Nakano snaps.

  I hold my breath as Lee mechanically starts for the stairs, and pray I haven’t misjudged him. When he chooses to walk in front of Nakano, not behind him, I move, throwing myself to the left just as Lee knocks Nakano’s arm, redirecting the line of fire to the right.

  The gun goes off, harmlessly hitting the back wall.

  “McKenzie!”

  Aren again. He’s on the stairs now. He grips the banister, sees Lee wrestling on the floor with his father, then his gaze locks on me.

  “Naito’s hurt,” I call out, scurrying forward until I’m at Naito’s side. The bullet went all the way through him, and he’s losing so much blood.

  “Tell Aren to go,” Naito manages to get out before he’s wracked by coughing. “The tech…”

  I press my hands over Naito’s wound—it’s right in the center of his chest—then look over my shoulder at Aren. His edarratae are going ballistic, leaping over his skin in some kind of chaos, and he’s stumbling down the stairs more than walking down them.

  Nakano’s gun goes off again, but Lee’s wrenched it out of his father’s hand. He rises to his feet, points the barrel at Nakano’s forehead. He doesn’t pull the trigger.

  “You know what the demons did to your mother,” Nakano says, heaving air in and out of his lungs.

  “That was twenty years ago.”

  “They kill. They rape.” Nakano rises slowly to his knees. “It’s our God-given charge to eradicate them.”

  Aren reaches the basement floor. He’s off-balance when he crosses it, but he makes it to my side.

  “Can you heal him?” I ask, not knowing if he’s capable of it inside this compound or not.

  Aren places his hands over Naito’s chest. The edarratae give no indication that he’s using his magic, but Naito gasps. Healing a wound that serious will hurt.

  I rise and turn toward Lee. His aim is wavering. He’s still warring with himself, trying to decide if he’s going to murder his father. It has to be done—he’s ruined too many lives—but I can’t imagine what it would be like to kill the man who raised you.

  I take a step toward them. I know what it’s like to kill, though. It’s not something I want to do again. The fae I sent to the ether in Belecha almost three weeks ago still haunts me. Despite everything Nakano’s done, his death will as well.

  I reach behind my back, wrapping my hand around the hilt of my dagger.

  Nakano rises from his knees to his feet. “Put the gun down, boy. Go back to that school of yours and ignore the war I’ve been fighting for you.”

  “I tried to fight it with—”

  “And you failed,” Nakano cuts him off.

  “You have to stop this,” Lee says. “The fae aren’t anyone’s demons but your own.”

  He lowers his gun, damn it. I’m going to have to do this.

  “You’re as weak as your brother turned out to be.” Nakano’s voice is dripping with disgust now. Lee’s knuckles go white on the grip of his weapon.

  Nakano notices that, too. He sneers. “You can’t kill your own father.”

  A shot rings out, thundering through the basement. The bullet hits Nakano’s shoulder, throwing him against the wall below the staircase. Lee didn’t fire the weapon, though.

  Nakano’s st
artled gaze swivels to Naito.

  “He can’t kill you,” Naito says. “But I can.”

  He fires his gun again.

  I can’t look at the shattered shell of Nakano’s skull, so I focus on Aren as he helps Naito all the way to his feet. Naito is deathly pale—Aren’s magic can’t replace blood loss—but his eyes are determined and cold. Not satisfied, though. His father’s death won’t bring Kelia back.

  “Let’s go,” Naito says. He takes an unsteady step toward the stairs. Aren tries to keep him balanced, but he looks just as weak as Naito.

  I slide my dagger back into my scabbard and glance at Lee, who’s staring at his father’s remains.

  “Help your brother,” I order.

  Lee looks up, blinking. He’s shell-shocked, I think. We don’t have time for that.

  I grab his arm and shove him toward Naito. Moving seems to snap him out of his daze. He tucks his gun into his waistband, then puts Naito’s arm over his shoulder. But Naito doesn’t budge.

  “You with us or the Court fae?” he asks.

  Lee clenches his jaw. “Right now, I’m with you. Six men stayed here with Dad. They’re—”

  “They’re dead,” Aren says when I reach his side. He looks like hell. The edarratae are angry on his skin, and his eyes are as red as Lee’s were when I first saw him. I have to get him out of here.

  “Come on,” I say, looping my arm around his waist. He doesn’t lean on me, but he does let me guide him to the staircase. Lee leads Naito up ahead of us. We make it halfway before Aren’s knees buckle. I’m there, catching him.

  “Sidhe,” he says. His voice cracks. What the hell is in this place? Tech gives fae headaches, makes it harder for them to fissure, or use magic. It doesn’t weaken them like this.

  “We just need to get outside,” I tell him.

  I try to move him forward again. He doesn’t budge.

  “McKenzie,” he says, reaching up to cup my cheek. He doesn’t say he loves me, but the words are there in his eyes. I feel them. This is the man who will do anything for me, even wait a decade while I decide if I’m going to let myself fall in love with him. But I have fallen for him. I can’t deny that, and I can’t walk away from him.