Caged with the Wolf (The Wolves of the Daedalus Book 3)

by Elin Wyn

While my mind wrapped around her words, a slim shape appeared from the grills of the vent, and slowly I could make out a knife as it slid between the bars. It hovered in the air, then, finally, I could just make out the glistening fine thread that held it suspended.

  Unfortunately, it was being lowered a meter past my feet.

  “Um, Granny?”

  “I'm not blind. Hold on.” Unhurriedly ,she began to swing the blade towards me. The sharp edge captivated my gaze as it approached, then retreated, then swung again closer.

  “There we go.”

  With an almost inaudible plop, the blade flew free at the height of its arc, landing on the fabric of my thin gown.

  “You can pull it the rest of the way with the fabric.”

  I had just enough flex in my right arm to reach the hem of my gown. I gathered it one pinch at a time until, slowly, the thin covering carried the knife towards the curve of my hip.

  “Almost done, there you go.” Her words were reassuring, if I didn’t think about the rest of the situation.

  “What are you doing here,” I whispered, my eyes fixed as the blade moved closer and closer to my hand.

  “Busting you out. What did you think?”

  Finally, the knife tumbled down my hip and, by forcing my hand through the restraint as far as I could, I finally gripped the blade.

  Carefully I turned it in my hand until, bending my wrist back on itself, the blade reached the edge of the restraint. I worked at the bond, sawing through one fiber at a time.

  My focus was so intense I didn't hear her until she spoke my name.

  “Zayda,” she repeated. “Would you mind trying to work the blade further over on the side of your arm?”

  I paused, blinked. “What?”

  “That knife is one of my sharpest. I'd rather you didn't bleed out mid-rescue.”

  I looked again, this time focusing past the restraint to the shallow cuts I’d already made on the inside of my wrist. That made sense.

  I’d nearly worked all the way through the strap holding my right arm down when, with a quiet click, the door unlatched.

  Granny scooted out of sight down the vent faster than I’d have believed from someone her age. Quickly, I twisted as far as I could to the left, sliding the knife under the edge of my right hip, hoping that the trailing length of the thread would be unnoticed.

  When Stanton entered, the flare of emotion in my chest made me clench my jaw. His betrayal of me, of the Agency I thought we both believed in, knocked the foundations of my world. As much as I’d craved his approval before, I hated him now.

  Still, a small part of me insisted this was all a terrible mistake. That he'd save me, like he had when I was a child.

  But the coldness in his expression when his gaze swept over my body killed that hope for all time.

  “I've been recalled to the Compound, so we won't be seeing each other again.”

  “The where?” my mind whirled, trying to remember an installation with that name. “Back to the Agency?”

  “You really are turning out to be a disappointment. Do try to keep up with the situation.” He shook his head and glanced at his chrono.

  My finger brushed against the edge of the knife under my hip.

  He was within reach.

  At this point, I was quite familiar with the sharpness of the blade.

  It would be so easy. One quick slash across his throat.

  Either he didn't see the heat in my eyes, or he didn't care.

  “I know you're worried about your new pet. So, I've arranged for you to see him one more time.”

  My hand moved away from the knife. Mack was alive, and here. I could wait.

  “Unfortunately, my shuttle leaves too soon for me to stay and watch your reunion.”

  Despite everything, the words spilled from me. “All of these years, all of the time you spent training me. None of it mattered?”

  He halted by the door. “It mattered. You were useful for longer than expected. But, in the end, you were a disposable tool. Why do you think I recruit from the Lowers?” He laughed, that easy sound I’d come to treasure, and it ripped a hole in me. “Not for any sense of redeeming society’s dregs. You came from nothing. No one will miss you.”

  The door closed behind him and I shook silently in the bed. I could scream for hours and still not empty out the well of hurt. And it wouldn’t do any good, anyway.

  I got back to work.

  “It’s all lies,” I whispered.

  “Not everything, child. Not your man. I saw how you looked at each other. There’s no other truth that matters.”

  I examined the right restraint. Almost there. With grim determination, I started sawing at it again.

  “You were taken before I had control of the station back yet, I’m sorry. We’re about ready to move in. Once you’re free, we’ll get you out of here.”

  “No. Not without Mack.”

  “Child,” the voice was soft now. “I think it’s too late for him.”

  ‘You wouldn’t have left Bryn.”

  The rustling in the vent stopped. “I figured you were smart. You’re very, very smart.”

  “Since I’m stuck here for a bit, why don’t you tell me a story, Granny. I’ll owe you a favor, later.”

  She chuckled, and I heard her get comfortable, or as comfortable as one could in an air shaft.

  “Bryn and I had a life of adventure. We never wanted to settle down. He would have given me the universe. And he was my entire universe.”

  “What changed?”

  “We had a baby. A little girl. And suddenly, we wanted more.” She paused, and I stopped working, waiting for her next words.

  “A home. We started building one. We’d never really kept track of what we’d made off with. The credits were never the point. It was the game, the excitement. Being together. There was enough. More than enough.”

  “Where did you go?”

  “Right here, where else?”

  “You moved to the station?” With a snap, the final section of the right restraint came free. I flexed my hand and rolled to the left as far as I could, but the locked clasp defeated me.

  “No, we built it.”

  With a sigh, I started cutting again, then her words caught up to me. “You built Orem Station?”

  “It never was Orem. Aurum. Gold. Our pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.” She laughed, softly. “He liked puns, that man.”

  “In the beginning, it was all a bit like the Under. A fantastic haven for all comers. In time, merchants came, and then buyers, until it sorted itself out into Levels, classes. Just like a damn Cilurnum station. But people did what they wanted, stayed within our admittedly loose guidelines, and we were happy.”

  The left restraint was easier to demolish, and, happily, with fewer cuts on my arm. I started on my ankles.

  “What happened?”

  “When Sallia grew up, she fell in love. He wouldn’t have been my choice for her. But that would have been hypocritical, wouldn’t it? A rich man, but not an honest pirate. Just a merchant. Maybe when we told her stories she only heard about the risk, the dangers, but I wished she’d had more love for adventure.”

  “In time, Bryn and I decided to share more of the responsibility with them, and when Tyon was born, you could have powered the station with our happiness.”

  The family in the holocube. They had looked happy, sweet for a family of pirates and smugglers and...

  “Wait. Tyon?” The knife almost dropped from my hand and I scrambled to catch it before it fell to the deck, out of reach. “Tyon Valsi, the governor, is your grandson?”

  “I know. I don’t know how he turned out to be such a bastard. Every time I tried to suggest that he make different friends, was going down the wrong path, he threw my past in my face.”

  There wasn’t anything to say to that.

  “And when Bryn died… most of me did as well. I ceded control entirely, returned to the first hive Bryn and I had built while we were working
on the rest of the station. Let life roll on without me.”

  She fell silent. I didn’t ask anything else, just imagined what it would be like to have that sort of life, the risk of loving someone so much that when they died, part of you did, too.

  Like I loved Mack.

  “Granny, you said you had people on the way, right?” The left ankle finally came loose. One to go.

  “They’ll storm the compound as soon as we’re clear.” She sighed. “Poor little bastard doesn’t even know he’s lost control yet. I expect he’ll throw a tantrum when he does.”

  It might have been a stupid decision, but it was the only one I could live with. “You should go, now. Start the assault.”

  “Girl.” She paused. “Zayda. You’re still trapped.”

  “So’s Mack.” I looked up towards the vent, wishing I could see more than shadow, and forced a smile. “Thanks for the knife.”

  She snorted. “I’ll expect it back when we come and get you.”

  “Come get us both.”

  The rustling faded away, and I focused on getting free from the last strap.

  This time, I didn’t hear the door when it opened.

  Valsi strutted in, looked at my free arms, and shrugged. “It’s not going to make a difference.”

  Two uniformed guards followed, dragging Mack between them, covered in blood. They threw him into the far corner, and he lay still, limp.

  My hands flew to my mouth to stifle the scream.

  “Bastard cost me five of my best men,” Valsi sneered. “I don’t think having your arms free is going to make much of a difference when he comes back around.”

  The guards backed out of the room, and, despite his brave words, Valsi hurried after them.

  With a click, the door locked.

  I clawed at the last restraint holding my ankle down, unable to take my eyes off Mack.

  I couldn’t see him breathing.

  There was so much blood.

  When the knife finally cut through the strap, I tumbled off the bed with a sob.

  “Mack, wake up, please, babe.” I crawled to him, legs too shaky to support me, and pulled his head into my lap.

  He didn’t respond. This wasn’t like his nightmares, when he tossed and turned, fighting the ghosts of his past.

  He was so still.

  I cut the hem of my gown, tried to mop the blood from his face and shoulders. Plenty of new cuts decorated his back, but I had the sense more blood had been spilled than his alone.

  Good.

  I held him, rocking, trying to come up with a plan, when he coughed.

  “Mack, thank the Dark….”

  His golden eyes blazed, but with no recognition, no understanding.

  I reached out to smooth his cheek, and he scrambled back, face twisted into a snarl.

  Mack, my Mack, was gone.

  Mack

  Kill them all.

  The fire in my blood demanded it, the insatiable urge for battle. I swept the room, searching for enemies, but there was no one to fight.

  A howl of frustration broke from my chest and a small figure skittered away. The scent wasn’t of them. Different, strange.

  Female.

  I prowled closer, the pulse at her throat drawing me in.

  She pressed against the wall, making noises that made no sense. The sounds enticed me, made me crave more.

  One small ankle stuck out and I ran my face down the length of her shin.

  Blood. The female had blood on her and the rage spiked again.

  Her hands brushed my shoulders lightly and, instead of the skin-crawling revulsion I had felt near the enemies in the other room, I yearned for more.

  I wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer, underneath me where I crouched, surrounding her, covering her.

  Fear glazed her scent, but her fragrance wrapped around me cushioned the knife edge that tore at my mind.

  I buried my face in her neck, then moved down her body, the urgency to be near her spurring me on.

  The thin fabric stopped at her upper thigh. I pushed it out of the way and then jumped in surprise when she smacked my arm.

  No.

  I understood the word. But I didn't like it.

  I reached for her again, and she slapped my arm, harder this time. Not enough to do damage, but her displeasure was explicit.

  My eyes narrowed, but, despite my growl, she pulled my shoulders until her face was level with mine, hands on either side of my face.

  Stay with me, Mack. Come back to me.

  Just sounds, but I read the meaning in her scent, her touch.

  Snarling, I sat back, twisted until we were in the corner of the room, holding her in my lap, caged by my arms.

  She talked, soft voice like calming strokes, matching the soothing patterns she caressed on my shoulders.

  Breathing deeply of her scent again, I settled down to rest, and waited for the enemy.

  Zayda

  His skin burned under my hands.

  I kept talking, chattering about nonsense, fighting to keep the anger and tears from my voice.

  Mack’s lids drifted half-closed, but the tightness of his arms around me put to rest any thought I had that he might be going to sleep.

  “Once we’re out of here, we should take a vacation. Go find one of those garden domes. I've always wanted to do that. I get the feeling you probably never have or maybe you have and don't remember. Either way, that would be nice.”

  With every word, with every touch, his breathing evened.

  Whatever they had done to him, it would wear off eventually. It had to.

  So, the plan was simple.

  Keep talking until I had Mack back with me. Wait for Granny to find us. Figure it out from there.

  “Maybe we can find a nice planet, something with breathable air outside of the domes. It’d be fun to do some exploring, wouldn't it, honey.”

  I traced the hard planes of his face, and he nuzzled into my hand, as desperate for my touch as I was for his.

  “Or maybe we'll just steal The Queen from Granny, zipping off and becoming this generation’s hero pirates-”

  The door splintered open and I screamed.

  Three men spilled into the room, their faces covered with helmets, not the opaque black of Hunters, just men trying to kill us.

  Somehow that wasn't any more comforting.

  Before the last echo of the scream had left my throat, Mack rolled, tucking me into him, until we were behind the bed frame.

  He snarled and, with a twitch of his hand, the first guard fell.

  Another twitch, and I saw that Mack had grabbed Granny's knife, having retrieved it with a precise tug of the thin thread.

  Before the first hit the floor, the other two guards followed, each jetting blood from the surgically placed wounds at their throat.

  “Stay here,” he rumbled, and despite having seen three men killed in front of me, my heart leapt at his return to speech.

  He moved to the door, or where the door used to be, and searched the bodies for weapons.

  Shots and screams resounded down the corridor.

  The attack had begun. But would Granny find us before the rest of the guards?

  Mack paced the room, his fragile grip on calm shattered.

  Footsteps pounded towards us, and he spun and fired.

  Oh Void, let that have been a guard.

  “Mack, can you come back and stay with me?” I hated the quiver in my voice, but maybe this was one of the times that excused it.

  His gaze tracked the movement outside, and I could see the urge to join the battle, unleash the rage that simmered under his skin.

  “Please, Mack. I’m frightened.”

  Instantly he returned to my side. “Hold this.” A blaster landed in my lap, and, with a wrench and the scream of bending metal, he tore the bed I’d been confined to from the floor, laying it on its side before us to form a shield.

  “Better.”

  Attention still fixed o
n the door, he settled beside me, one hand possessively on my leg. I wrapped my fingers through his, wishing I had the strength to keep him here. Because, out on the battlefield, it wouldn’t matter who he met - Valsi’s men or Granny’s. Right now, until the drug wore off, they were all the enemy.

  “Out there,” I started, reaching for words as carefully as stepping across a thin bridge, waiting for it to collapse under me. “There are people who are your friends. My friends. They’re coming to help us.”

  He didn’t give any indication that my words made an impact, but I forged ahead.

  “I know you don’t know who they are, but do you trust me?”

  The slightest of nods, and the peraisteel band around my chest loosened just a bit.

  “If someone comes in, can you wait, just a minute, for me to see if they’re a friend?”

  “No.”

  Well, he was listening at least.

  “Why not?”

  “Risky.”

  “Can we find a way for me to see, without being exposed?”

  His head tilted, considering. Then, with a leap, he ripped off the cabinet doors, angling one by the entrance to the room, the other by our makeshift fort.

  “There.”

  The reflection of the doorframe wasn’t flawless, but it was a good compromise.

  “Perfect.” I kissed his cheek, but he turned, mouth falling on mine, his hand pulling me so close into his lap that the hard length of him ground into me.

  I wanted Mack back, but this was not the time. Gasping, I pushed away.

  “Not now, we could have an audience at any moment.”

  He frowned, and I braced to remind him again. But he sat back, clearly thinking. “You don't like an audience.”

  “No, babe, I don't. Thank you for remembering.”

  The sounds of battle outside our room slowly died down. All we could do was wait. The time stretched out until I was ready to snap.

  “Just a quick peek down the hall,” I argued.

  He shook his head. “I can still hear them.”

  I couldn't, but I didn't have his enhancements.

  “You have to stay here, stay safe.”

  I knew he'd keep me safe. But could I protect him?