“It would be wise to stay silent. I have a short temper for your antics today.” I latched the cage and picked it up.
A brown eye appeared in one of the holes, watching me. “Crumpet munchers. This is bad.”
“What did I just say?”
“You are in desperate need of food and a certain Viking club?” Sprig replied. “Oh sorry, that’s what I heard.”
Fear was running too high in my system to find his response funny, as true as it might have been.
Rapava shifted and clicked his tongue from the doorway behind me, expressing that his patience was running thin.
“Not another word,” I ordered and pivoted toward the door, following Rapava, and taking Sprig with me. Sprig thankfully did as I instructed and stayed quiet.
The walk back to my room felt like an endless tunnel of doom, where at any moment a trap door would open and plummet us to the dungeon below. Every square tile was either safe or a snare. And Sprig’s mouth was the trigger.
Rapava deposited me back in my room. At the sound of the lock on my door clicking, barring me in, I ran to the table by my cot, setting the cage down.
My fingers fumbled at the latch, my eyes studying the room for any hidden surveillance.
“Oh god, Sprig. I’m so sorry,” I whispered as I lifted the cover off the crate. He sat in the corner, his fingers wrapped around his tail, stroking the end, soothing himself.
I would have taken a thousand needles to the heart than see the hurt and pain etched on his face.
“Sprig, I had to say those things. I didn’t mean any of it,” I whispered hoarsely.
He stayed silent.
“Please, talk to me,” I pleaded. “Tell me you’re not talking to me. I don’t care. Something.”
“Obviously, I’m not talking to you,” he huffed. “Thought by not talking it was evident.”
I let out a relieved chuckle. “I’ve been worried about you.” He shifted, peering over his shoulder at me. “I hate that you’re here, but damn it’s good to see you. I’ve missed you like crazy.”
“Like how crazy?”
I grinned. “Like honey-dipped-in-sugar-rolled-in-honey-and-fried-in-honey kind of crazy.”
Sprig’s eyes widened, fully turning to me. “Fried honey?” He licked his lips. “Sounds crazy good.”
I nodded. “I missed you that much.”
A smile lighted his eyes. “I missed you too, Bhean.”
I felt the impulse from both of us to reach out for each other. I wanted nothing more than to hug the little bugger. “We need to be careful, Sprig. Delaney told me the cameras don’t work in the rooms, but we need to be careful. I need to keep you protected. Rapava can’t know the truth of our friendship, okay? If he does, he will separate us. I can’t handle it. Not again.”
Sprig nodded. He still clung to his tail like a security blanket.
“Are you okay? They haven’t hurt you, have they?” I asked. A cold fury roared through me at the thought of someone hurting him. I clenched my teeth.
“They took Pam from me.” His expression filled with sorrow.
“Buddy, I’m sorry.” Pam was a tiny stuffed goat I had bought Daniel as a funny birthday present, teasing him about his Capricorn sign. Sprig found it when we were investigating Daniel’s apartment and claimed the goat as his own. It became his companion and security. Pam, the goat, had been through a lot with us. It reminded me how I felt seeing my boots again. It was an anchor, a connection and comfort.
“If they’ve done anything to her,” he huffed, “I swear I will go apeshit.” His eyebrow lifted up and down.
I snickered. “Good to see you haven’t lost your bad puns.”
“Bad as in badass, right?”
“Right.”
“So, do you know where the Viking is?” Sprig asked.
“No.” I shook my head. “But most likely Vadik has him.” My lids squeezed shut with images of Ryker being tortured and beaten. Like Rapava, Vadik had no limit as to what he would do to get what he wanted.
Vadik wanted the stone. For some reason though, I felt it was more than that. He seemed to want Ryker almost as much.
“After I passed out, did you see or hear anything else?”
Sprig wobbled his head back and forth. “No. They knocked me out right after you. Woke up here.”
“Yeah,” I sighed.
I didn’t doubt they had been treating him like a walking pincushion as well. We both seemed to be the foundation for all experiments here.
“Lots of needles and no honey. It’s inhumane.”
“The lack of honey, not the needles?” I winked.
“Well, yeah, of course.” He stomped his foot. “It’s cruel. I’d like to file a complaint.”
“Yeah. Me too,” I snorted. “Let me know how it goes for you.”
“We need to do something, Bhean. I can’t live in these conditions. They don’t even let me have those granola bars. The nurse laughed at me when I mentioned I’d settle for churros.”
A grin settled on my mouth. It was so good to have Sprig back, to smile and laugh again. A happiness I hadn’t felt for a month filled me with light. He brought me a peace only a friend and loved one could give.
“You’re right. We have to come up with a plan.” My smile slipped, the seriousness of our situation returning. “Do you remember the girl, Sera? She was the other seer and Collector?”
“The one I threw a brick at on the rooftop?”
“Yes, her.”
“I should have thrown poo.”
Sprig had helped Ryker and me escape from a building where we’d been hiding when the Collectors hunted me. That night felt long ago.
“She’s dying.”
“Oh. Does that mean no poo?”
“No poo,” I confirmed. “I need to sneak into her room tonight. When I saw her today, she was trying to tell me something, I could feel it. I have to see her.”
“Oh, a night full of danger, mystery, intrigue, action.” Sprig inched forward, excitement glowing on his face. “And food.”
“When did food become part of our evening?”
“Because I only do the other stuff if food is involved.”
That was true.
“Who knows, maybe there’s a drive-through on our way.”
“Really?”
I tilted my head to the side, lifting an eyebrow.
“What did I tell you about teasing and food?” He folded his arms.
“I should never tease about food.”
“And what did you just do?” he scolded.
“Teased about food.”
“See. I get grumpy.”
“Sorry. I promise I won’t do it again.”
“Not talking to you right now.” He stuck his tongue out at me. I knew from the many times before, this would only last about thirty seconds. I needed to use the silence to think of a plan.
I drifted from the table, trying to figure out how to get to Sera. I sat on my cot and lay back, my gaze going to the ceiling. We were locked in, and probably deadbolted. No lock picking there.
I popped back up instantly. The panels along the top were in perfect squares. All made of a foam, cardboard type of material, and all moveable. It was how Sprig and I escaped this place before. The vents. Rapava said they secured all the escapes out of the building. But I wasn’t trying to escape. I was only trying to get to another room—a room on the same level as mine. It was a couple corridors over and a few lefts and rights, and the vents went to every room.
“What?” Sprig jumped on the top edge of the cage, watching me.
Twenty seconds.
It was too early for me to check things out; the lights in my room still blazed brightly. Until this place shut down for the night, I wouldn’t feel safe to check out my idea. Sprig’s size, sensitivity to fae magic, love of danger, and agility made him the perfect candidate.
“I need you to do something for me.” I lowered my voice even more. “I want you to check out the access to the v
ents, and find out if there are any alarms or triggers on this level.”
He nodded with eagerness.
“But only go as far as you feel comfortable. If you feel or see anything wrong, come back. Okay? Your safety is priority to me.”
He saluted me and leaped to the top of a cupboard. Not wanting to focus on him in case we were being watched, I paced and fiddled around the room, watching him through my lashes. He pushed at a ceiling panel, lifting it enough to slip through.
I waited. My nerves were so severely strung I could only inhale the smallest bit of air. Every creak or sound I heard caused me to jump, dampening the back of my neck with sweat.
Trying to act “natural” when you wanted to lose your shit was a feat in itself. My hands fidgeted and twisted around each other. The hum of the fluorescent lights grew louder, ticking like a clock as time passed, filled the strained silence.
“Hell,” I mumbled to myself. Something was wrong. I could feel the panicked scream building in my chest. What if he got caught or hurt? Why did I put this on him? What did I make him do?
A thump sounded above me. I jumped, covering my mouth to stop the cry waiting to escape.
Sprig crawled out, leaping on the cupboard.
“Oh, thank god.” My words rushed out, allowing me to take the first real breath.
Sprig climbed down. “First, there are rats up there. Big ones.” He crinkled his nose. “I think they thought I was fast-food delivery... or they were trying to mate with me.”
Knowing Sprig was safe and no one had broken down the door to take either one of us away, I let myself laugh.
“I tell you, Bhean. It’s always sex or food.” He sat back on his hind legs by his cage. “Hey, you and rats have something in common. Speaking of—”
“Sprig,” I interrupted. “What did you see?”
“The vents are clear if you stay on this level. When I tried to climb up, like we did last time, I saw sensory triggers and everything has now been bolted down with goblin metal.”
Rapava was not lying. He did block the exits to leave, but moving around internally was feasible.
“How far did you go?”
“All the way to the end of this floor. They don’t seem to care if we crawl around the vents like rats in a maze. But the maze is of their making. We can’t get anywhere good... oh, unless there’s a cafeteria on this floor?”
“Let’s try finding Sera first, before we venture out.”
“Eye-Matty.” He saluted me.
I fell back on my bed with an amused groan.
Now all we had to do was wait till lights out.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Metal rubbed against the fabric of my pants, sending electric shocks into my knees and shins as I slid slowly through the vent. The space was smaller and thinner than the one I escaped through last time, and my weight created an unnerving pinging sound through the flue. It was a succession of moving through a series of mazes and climbing over ceiling beams like a gymnast.
Sprig was not wrong about the rats. Several of them scurried over my hands as I blindly made my way through. Rats didn’t bother me normally, but the feel of their fur and claws scraping over my skin created chills down my arms, causing me to shake them off in disgust. I had to rely on my memory to get to where I thought Sera’s room was located. Sprig’s sharp night vision helped steer me. After a while, my sight adjusted and my senses heightened. But my stomach was still tense with fear.
I was putting us in an insane amount of danger. But I would not be a victim. If fighting meant playing their game while secretly obtaining information to take them down, that’s what I’d do.
Sprig yelped. A rat squeaked.
“Stop, fooling around up there. Leave the rats alone,” I whispered.
“Le-leave the rats alone?” he exclaimed in a hoarse whisper. “Tell them to leave me alone. Beady-eyed bastards.”
“If you stopped flirting with them,” I whispered as we came to another vent exit.
“Flirting?” He scoffed. “They want to eat me, Bhean... and yes, in that way too.”
“Okay, didn’t need that visual.” I unhooked the vent door, crawling down to check if this was Sera’s room. The last four rooms had been empty.
My fingernails dug into the plaster around the vent, and I lifted the panel. The soft beeps of a heart monitor and the rhythmic pumping of air wafted up. My heart jumped into my throat. I think I found her. I leaned over, poking my head down the hole. One dim light was turned on Sera’s motionless body in the deep shadows. From this distance I couldn’t see her breathing, but the machines reassured me she was still alive. If only barely.
“Is it her?” Sprig climbed on my back, trying to peer with me.
“Yeah.” I pushed myself back up. This was harder than I thought, being alone with her. What would I say? Sorry you’re dying? Or, there is a chance I could cure you, but I don’t want Rapava to know the truth about how I got Ryker’s powers…my bad.
“Hello? You go on holiday?” A tiny finger tapped against my head. “You going down there or did we simply sneak over here for the rush? I could see this is all getting boring. No hot Viking to pummel all night.”
“Sprig!” Heat crawled up my cheeks. His jab hit a little too close to home. One of several dreams I had lately flashed through my mind. Ryker’s lips skating up my inner thigh, his hands...
Zoey, stop! I rubbed my face fiercely.
“What?”
“Shut up,” I hissed.
“Not getting any is making someone grumpy.”
“Like you and food.”
“Exactly. Ryker is your honey stick.” His face scrunched up.
“Ugh.” I shook my head. “Let’s not ever use that reference again.”
“I think I might even have ruined honey for me with that comparison.”
I raised a dubious eyebrow at him.
“Yeah, you’re right.” Sprig grabbed his stomach, laughing. “That could ne-ver happen.”
I shook my head, a smile curling on my face. No matter what, Sprig could make me laugh, even in difficult times.
“You know, all this talk of honey—”
“If they ever allow me beyond my room, I will try and find you some.”
“This is why we should never part ways.”
“Because I supply your addiction?”
“Pretty much.” He nodded.
“That’s what I thought.” I sighed. “My role in life.” I stared back down the gap in the ceiling. “Okay, let’s do this.”
“Great!” Sprig bobbed on my shoulder then stopped. “What are we doing again?”
I reached over and grabbed Sprig. “This.” I lowered myself into the opening and held him over the bed. “Jump.”
He easily leaped on the bed as I turned myself around in the vent and slid through the opening feet first. I dropped to the ground, my knees bending with the impact. I barely made a noise. I was exceptional at several things and being stealthy was one. Robbing homes, starting at the age of nine, taught me early how to move so I could break into places undetected.
I crept over to Sera’s bed, her frail form disappearing in the mattress. My gaze roamed over her face and hair. We didn’t come from the same parental DNA, but we came from the same formula Dr. Holt designed. I guess I still hoped to find something visual connecting us—a trait, a birthmark, something tangible. But we were only related on the inside. A unique coding in our DNA linked us.
Without realizing it, I reached for her hand. It was small and cold in mine. Sweat beaded at her hairline and a shadow of blood crusted the base of her nose.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice startling me. Emotion struck my heart. “I am so, so sorry.”
Sera’s lids quivered and slowly they lifted. Adrenaline sent spikes of energy through my limbs. What if I read her wrong earlier? What if she cried out for help or hit a button to get the nurses in here. All my work to obtain Rapava’s trust would be down the drain.
I stiffened an
d glanced nervously at Sprig. He had moved to the opposite nightstand as me, hiding behind a jug of water.
Sera’s head bowed toward me, her gaze taking me in. I was half expecting anger or even fear to flash in her eyes, but instead liquid filled them as she squeezed my hand.
Air I didn’t even know I was holding slipped over my tongue.
Sera took back her hand and tried to push herself up.
“Here.” I adjusted the pillows so she could sit up. She struggled to move, and after repositioning a little she laid back on the pillows, her eyes closing with fatigue.
I felt helpless and guilty. My conscience kept stabbing me. What kind of person are you? You could save her. Do something. And the shame only thickened with the knowledge I wouldn’t; I was going to let her die.
She licked her lips as she opened her eyes. “You. Came.” Her voice was soft and every syllable struggled to come out.
“Sera, I—” She grabbed my hand, halting my words.
“I should have believed you.” She huffed slowly, sucking in deep gulps. The tube in her nose wheezing with strain. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t think I would have believed me either.”
“Dr. Ra—Rapa—va.” Sera coughed.
“I know. I know what he’s done to us, what he wants to do.” I tried to fill in for her. She continued to choke and gasp for air. My gut somersaulted when I saw fresh blood dripping from her nose and pooling in her hand.
Was this how I would have met my end? How my death would have played out if it weren’t for Ryker? Only an outlandish coincidence had kept me from dying here alongside Sera.
Fury twisted my insides, stirring my wrath against Rapava and even Dr. Holt. What gave them the right to play God with us? To not care about the consequences of their creations? How could they not consider we were real people with feelings, hopes, dreams, not merely cells from a petri dish?
As I watched Sera spit more blood into her hand, I knew I would do whatever it took to end Rapava. To destroy DMG for good.
Sprig nudged a box of Kleenex on the side of the table, still staying out of sight. I didn’t know how she would respond to Sprig. Even if she hated DMG, it didn’t mean her prejudices against the fae had changed. It was better if he stayed hidden.
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