Escape from Harrizel

by C. G. Coppola

  “What?”

  “What I did.”

  I shake my head. “You did what you had to do. You did it for the Rogues.”

  “I did it for you,” he stalks toward me, his body emitting feral power that sets fire to mine. Instinctively I step back, my heart racing with each step he takes. Slowing, he places his hands on either side of my face, on the wall behind me, locking me to it. A lump rolls down his throat.

  “Reid…”

  His dark eyes dart over me and he leans in, but stops before our mouths make contact. Hovering just above, he inhales. “Tell me.”

  “Tell you what?”

  “Tell me what you want.”

  “What I want?” my heart races, fire sparking throughout me. I’m not sure what he’s asking—what he’s doing. But he refuses to budge, keeping me locked here beneath him, waiting for an answer I don’t fully understand. “What do you mean what I want?”

  “I’ve made it more than clear what I want. You,” he leans in further. “I want you.”

  His addicting scent mixed with his proximity—I’m losing control. I know what I want, what I’ve wanted for a while, but it seems silly when so much is at stake. What does he expect me to say? “I…”

  “You…”

  I’m getting dizzy. With him so close and his tantalizing breath, I won’t be able to say no. But I don’t want to say no. It was too fast before but now… now all I want is this. Is him.

  “Fallon?”

  “You…” it comes out an aching whisper. “…I want you.”

  His mouth lifts a fraction of an inch before he slides his hands to my backside and lifts me, wrapping my legs around his hips. He presses me to the wall and dives in hungrily, opening my mouth with his and suddenly, everything is unleashed. Everything I’ve kept in and wanted to hold back—it’s pouring out of me and onto him. I kiss him furiously, insatiably, as he carries to his bed.

  He has me on my back in an instant but I climb on top, straddling him. Unable to stop my hands, I graze my fingers down his torso and back up, around his neck, pulling him closer. He kisses me just as hard and lifts my arms, yanking my top off. Our skin brushes and I’m on fire, especially as he unclasps my bra and tosses it to the side. He groans, his hands running up my front as he rolls me over, flattening me to his bed.

  He kisses down to my chest and takes me into his hand, squeezing. He pulls back long enough to strip my bottoms from my legs before removing his own. My heart races as he covers me again, his mouth grazing my neck. He trails his hand up my thigh and I burn alive as he reaches my apex. I nearly cry out, but he’s kissing me, groaning against my mouth.

  “I’ve wanted this,” he whispers, separating my legs with his.

  Slowly he slides into me, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as his mouth drops open in silent pleasure. It sets me boiling, especially as Reid returns focus to me, burning me with his adoring gaze. Electricity erupts as he starts rocking his hips against mine, burying himself deep inside. A dark rumble from the back of his throat and he pins my hands above my head.

  “Reid…” I whimper, arching back, giving myself to him. “Please.”

  “God I want you,” he growls into my ear as a needful ache grows. “You’re so beautiful.”

  He moves faster and I’m breathless, amazed at the way this feels, the way he feels inside me. I’m already nearing my peak, on a level of ecstasy I didn’t know existed.

  “Now…” I cry, “please…”

  Threading our fingers together, he locks himself to me and pounds away. He sends me higher and higher and just when I think I can’t take it anymore, he drives himself in for the final blow. I scream his name as he shatters me, ripple after ripple erupting through my body, which glows in response to him.

  Through a strained voice, he calls for me too, his body tensing over mine. Suddenly he pulls out, shuddering himself, my thigh instantly wet. Panting, Reid falls on top of me—his body, one massive heap crushing mine. Still coming back down, I lick my lips, trying to slow my thundering heart.

  “Is that…” I catch my breath, “…that what you wanted?”

  “Yeah,” he gulps, his chest still heaving. “You… I wanted you.”

  “Good.”

  Another minute passes. Running my fingers through his hair, I feel his heartbeat press into me. Who knows what tomorrow will bring or even a year from now—if we’re still alive to see it—but in this moment, I’m happy. And suddenly, an overwhelming urge to express my feelings grows.

  “Ansley was an idiot,” I whisper, stroking his scalp.

  He’s silent, his chest expanding into mine. Another long minute passes before he mutters into my skin, “…Said she was confused. She was confused,” he laughs, “yeah, cause I was expecting it.”

  “How’d you find out?”

  “Pratt.”

  “Pratt?”

  He nods but doesn’t elaborate.

  I brush his hair back, whispering into his brow. “I’m not confused.”

  Finally, he looks up, resting his chin on my chest. He picks up a curl and starts playing with it, a dopey grin crossing his face. He loops the curl around his finger, mesmerized until it uncoils and drifts down the rest of his hand. When it falls off his pinky, he frowns momentarily, selects another curl and starts again.

  “You know I’ll keep you safe right?” his eyes fly to mine with a sense of protectiveness I’ve never seen. “Tomorrow.”

  “I know.”

  “I will never let anything hurt you,” his eyes shift between mine as a lump rolls down his throat. “Never.”

  Sinking his head to my shoulder, Reid nestles into my shoulder and eventually, after a few quiet minutes, he falls asleep. I stay awake for a while longer, staring into the babeebs, afraid to admit what’s been growing inside me all along. But I need to say it. Just so I can hear it aloud. Once. Even if he doesn’t know; I can’t keep it inside me any longer.

  Brushing my lips against his temple, I whisper the quiet, terrifying truth, “…I love you, Reid.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five: Revolt

  It’s almost time.

  The bell to dismiss us from Rebuilding is about to blare and I’ve been waiting all day to hear it—the last time we’ll be ever be dismissed. Even with the Kings gone, Reid had Able escort me for the day. It was like watching the dead walk with some of the looks I got once I emerged outside. Fallon’s still alive? She hasn’t been seen for days! Hour after hour and the stares didn’t stop. I wouldn’t mind so much if I didn’t already feel exposed knowing what we’re planning for tonight. Everyone thinks this is just another day at Rebuilding and that they’ll be coming back tomorrow. Assuming everything goes smoothly—and we all don’t die terribly, of course—they won’t.

  Maybe I should’ve pushed Reid for more information on what we’re doing. All he said was stay nearby. How do I prepare with that?

  Ssccreeacch!!

  This is it.

  Able motions me out of the trench and keeps behind me, casual like normal. He’s hasn’t flinched all day. Actually, besides acknowledging me in his escort, he hasn’t talked all day. It’s like he wants to stay as quiet and under the radar as possible. Which I guess makes sense.

  Climbing out of the trench, I follow the crowds across the pen, funneling into the open portcullis. Able has my right arm hooked in his but Reid is suddenly at my left hip, a determined stride leading us through the Courtyard and toward the closest stairwell. Glancing over my shoulder, I see the rest of the Rogue Commanders along with the Carpenters falling in behind us and scattered throughout the ever-thinning crowd. Tetlak stands in the middle like usual, gesturing his three-daggered staff in the air, demanding that we move quicker.

  Reid slips his hand in mine, leading us up to Sampson’s room on the fifth floor. There are eleven of us in here: Reid, Tucker, Able, Chief, Jace, Kelly, Harrison, Rooney, Drenz, Sampson and me. It’s an insanely tight squeeze and just when I’m about to ask about the others, Sampson beats me to it
.

  “Vix and the others will meet us upstairs with her part of the Clan,” he motions to his door. “We’ll have to take separate evibolas because we’re too many.” Sampson looks to Reid. “How are the rest of the Rogues? Ready?”

  “Downstairs and waiting.”

  “How many are we all together?” I ask.

  Sampson does a quick count. “Thirty-six. Against about thirty-three Dofinikes and that includes the guards. Drenz, Rooney,” he turns to them, “keep as many babeebs as you can over your heads.”

  “Yes sir!” Rooney salutes, pulling some from the ceiling as Drenz, behind him, rolls his eyes. Only a second goes by before Drenz collects with the same eagerness and in the end they each have around eight yellowy golden balls of light hovering over their heads.

  “Whatever you do, don’t lose them. Now,” Sampson faces the rest of the group, “I need to be prepared for whatever happens. To do this, I must take my true form so once we get downstairs, I’ll be changing. Just want to prepare you.”

  “And upstairs?” I ask.

  “We’ll meet Vix and the others and then Jothkore, if everything goes right.”

  I nod.

  “Just have to wait for the Portcullis to close and we’ll leave,” Sampson says.

  I glance around the huddle of Rogue Commanders. There is no turning back now. Once Sampson gives us the go ahead, we’ll be heading upstairs to confront the Vermix. We’ll have thirty minutes before the bell to start Reminders and then, Leisure Time will ring. We’ll have to do it fast.

  A loud thundering thump of metal from outside and Sampson gestures to us. “Let’s go.”

  We file out of his room, making our way for the empty Courtyard downstairs where about ten Rogues meet us. They exchange quick words with Reid and Tucker as Sampson heads for the door I haven’t really noticed since Jeb took me through it the first day.

  Approaching the deeply-blue fogged arch, Sampson straightens his posture. He turns to us just as his body expands, his legs and arms elongating and consuming a greenish hue that soon spreads throughout his form. His torso tightens, darkens and hardens as whiskers sprout from his chin, falling in waves like a thick beard. The robin’s egg blue of his eyes are last to change, slipping to a golden yellow but keeping the same inquisitive shape and sense of depth I’ve come to not only trust, but rely on.

  “Quickly, please,” Sampson motions us to follow.

  He heads through the starlit arch, Reid next, then me, then the others with Tucker bringing around the tail. Once we’re all in, the evibola jerks momentarily before resuming its standard silence. It takes about ten seconds for us to arrive and when we do, Sampson cautiously steps outside, his arm flying into the air and signaling with one talon to wait. He peers around and, after deeming it safe, chances a further step, fully into the shadowed corridor.

  He pauses.

  Finally motioning us out of the evibola, he signals us to follow, moving right. We slip out silently, into the same darkened corridor lined with Gizella trees and babeebs. But there aren’t nearly as many. There are probably five of the silver snake-like trees that dot the length of the hall where downstairs, in the human quarters, there’d be ten. And same with the doors. The cobalt blue arches aren’t nearly as close together as ours. More distance between the arches means more space inside the room. These are definitely someone’s quarters. But whose?

  I’m three paces behind Reid, with Chief and Jace on my heels and Able at my side. My heart thumps wildly, like a drum sequence on repeat. But that just means we’ve made it this far. We’re here, higher in the Castle than we’ve ever been and not stopping yet.

  Another Dofinike jets out and for a second, I think it’s about to begin. But Sampson greets the newcomer with a nod, just as Pratt, Clark, Griffin and the other half of the Rogues shuffle out behind them. The groups acknowledge one another silently, each taking to opposite sides of the wall as we file along, scaling it against our backs. Tucker is in front of me and Reid is in front of him. I glance across the way and lock eyes with Pratt who follows along behind Clark.

  We’re almost there.

  Sampson and Vix slow. He dashes to her side, keeping to the right until stopping at a cobalt arch ahead. Sampson taps his talons against it and it opens a second later. He leads the way in, then Vix, then the rest of us.

  The room is similar to ours with the dark marble walls and floor. It’s at least ten times larger, stretching out into different compartments blocked off by wall separators. A few colorful tapestries line the space but there’s very little furniture. Filtering through the bodies, I step in front of Chief to take in the scene where everyone has stopped.

  Jothkore, in his human form, paces with a wide grin on his face as he sees us approaching. An oversized eggplant rug coats the marble floor between us and on it, bonded together with thick brown twine, lay two Dofinikes snarling through their restraints, one with a nasty scar down his face. Lying on their sides with their backs pressed together, both have their snouts wrapped.

  Once we’re all in and the door is shut again, Jothkore takes a step forward, his eyes on Sampson.

  “It is done, Fychu,” he lowers his head.

  “And the defenses?”

  “Top floor, across from the labs,” Jothkore looks up apologetically. “…I regret to inform you that only Beshib and the high guard can open it.”

  Sampson cups his chin, “Well, we were planning on capturing him anyway,” he huffs in frustration, gesturing to us. “I was hoping to secure some defenses first.”

  “We have ours,” Reid retrieves two blades secured up his forearm. As he does this, the rest of the Rogues follow suit, extracting their own pieces. Pratt, Clark, Griffin and I glance around at the sudden exposition of weapons ranging from small blades to brass knuckles, all made from molded and heated gibb, compliments of the Carpenters.

  Reid tucks his blades away and the rest do the same.

  “The threat lies with the guards. Now,” Sampson exhales, “most have gone with Beshib so there will only be a handful of guards, mostly Yerza and Norpe and the like. Once we’re able to overpower them, the scientists will be fairly simple to deal with, I expect.”

  “They’ve been trained to the standard Vermix requirements,” Jothkore reminds.

  “Very good,” Sampson glances down at the two bonded Dofinikes on the floor, “I’m sorry to have to keep you in this condition but you understand we can’t take any chances.”

  The one on the left struggles, sounds emitting but under the snout restraints, it all comes out a muffle. He tries to get up but is tied to the other one, has too much trouble and after a few heated twists, gives up with a breathless heave.

  “Sir,” Jothkore turns to Sampson, “shall we take them?”

  Again, the one on the left struggles, rolling about, demanding to be heard. Finally, Sampson nods and Jothkore bends down, removing the mouth restraint. As soon as it’s off, words erupt in their language, a set of long vowels that rings a hint of familiarity.

  Sampson shakes his head, disappointed. “Don’t be rude, Jeb.”

  The struggling Dofinike looks around us, his eyes catching mine before focusing on Sampson again. In clear, enunciated English, he pleads, “It’d be unwise to pursue this. You don’t understand the importance of...”

  “No, best not to try and sway me on this one.”

  “Sampson…” Jeb pleads and Jothkore offers a swift kick to his back, “F-Fychu Sampson.”

  “Oh—no need for that, Jothkore, titles are irrelevant when it comes to life and death.”

  “You n-need to abort this,” Jeb stammers, glancing between Sampson and Jothkore with fear in his eyes, “now, while you still can. The others don’t know yet. If you hurry…”

  “Yes, I was hoping they would. We’re on a limited time frame here,” Sampson frowns. “The Castle will be gathering in the Auditorium shortly so we’d like to be there to greet them.”

  “Fychu!” Jeb cries. “It’s wrong. You must see thi
s. We are so close.”

  “… To stumbling upon abomination? Yes, I’ve seen,” Sampson looks between Jothkore and Vix, “Bring them. Beshib might’ve kept a failsafe. Back to the evibolas,” he motions to the rest of us.

  We file back out into the corridor, Jothkore and Vix pulling the guide and scientist behind them. With Jeb’s snout restraints repaired, he’s muffling sounds again. He’s pleading with us to stop, his wide yellow eyes darting over everyone, searching for someone he can sway.

  “Top floor,” Sampson nods to Vix before the group splits again, the new additions going with her.

  All huddling into our evibola again, we ride it for another five seconds, Sampson leading us out into the corridor I saw on my first day here. We make our way down the hall, moving quickly, quietly. The space on the other side of the glass wall lies empty, as do the metal beds. The scientists must be in a different part of the lab because the further along we move, the longer the emptiness stretches.

  Finally, we meet the hall’s end where a massive black arch greets us. Everyone comes to a halt as Sampson gestures Jeb closer. Jothkore, now in his true form, holds him out and up for Sampson, removing the restraint from his snout.

  “Open it.” Sampson keeps his words calm.

  “Fychu…” Jeb pleads.

  “Open it now.”

  “Fychu,” Jeb gulps, “if only you could understand…” but his words are cut off. Jothkore has his throat gripped, pinching as Jeb hisses out, “I can’t. I can’t,” he chokes, “only Tetlak. Only Tetlak.”

  “Call him.”

  “They’re on their way,” Jeb gulps, just as Jothkore frees him, “they know I’m here. When Jothkore didn’t return…”

  “Good,” Sampson interrupts him, “how many shall we be expecting? You know what—don’t tell me, I’d rather be surprised.”

  “Fychu,” Jeb tries once more, “it is a mistake. Talk to your father…”

  But at this, Sampson nods to Jothkore who retrieves Jeb, reapplying his snout restraint. With Vix’s help, they lower the two Vermix to the ground in the corner. Sampson gestures everyone behind him.