Jamie’s indrawn breath sounded like static in Kyle’s ears. “I’m coming back to base.”
Kyle shook his head, even though Jamie couldn’t see it. “As much as I want you here, you’re not supposed to know just yet. Sounds like Stirling and Nazari want you to focus on your family and make sure your dad is safe.”
“Kyle—”
“We don’t need more people getting hurt, Jamie. I can’t—” Kyle broke off, swallowing thickly. He squeezed his eyes shut, letting his head hang down. “Keep your dad safe. I just didn’t want you to get blindsided by this.”
“This is Alexei, Kyle. He’s your brother, and he’s my teammate. I’m not going to let you go through this alone.”
“I know. I know. But if you come back because of me…we have too many eyes on us as it is, Jamie. Katie’s with Stirling right now and she’ll cover for you. We both know she’ll do what you think needs to be done.”
“I should be there.”
The words came out low and harsh, frustration a grating bite that made Kyle flinch. He wanted so badly to have Jamie there with him, to lean on him for strength, but that wasn’t possible, not when both of their families were in danger.
“You should, but you can’t be. We’ll hold the line.”
The silence between them was fraught with emotion neither could give voice to. Despite the room’s privacy setting, Kyle knew better than to even hint about their relationship more than he already had while on base.
“Promise me,” Jamie finally gritted out.
“Always.”
This was one promise Kyle could give wholeheartedly without the risk of breaking it. Because they all, to a man and woman, would fight to the bitter end, no matter the cost.
“Keep me updated.” Jamie breathed in deep and let it out in a heavy rush of air. “I’ll wait to hear from the director.”
Kyle opened his eyes and straightened up. “The second I know anything, you will, too.”
“Thank you.”
The sincerity in Jamie’s voice seeped through Kyle, warming him from the inside out. He held that feeling close as he cut the call, carrying it with him as he went to find his family on one of the residential levels. Ceres led him to the correct suite of rooms, the door sliding open before he could even touch the control panel.
“<
“<
“<
Kyle patted Valentina on the shoulder before shifting around so he could lay his arm across her shoulders and hold her close. Tatyana was sitting in an armchair with Phaedra on her lap, the young girl tense and scared-looking as she chewed nervously on a fingernail. Her hair was done up in small Senegalese twists that fell to her elbows, dark brown eyes darting around the room to take everything in.
“Do you have any news?” Sean’s mother asked. Dr. Naomi Delaney looked less frazzled than her husband and three other sons, but not by much. All of them looked as stressed out as his own family.
“No, I’m sorry,” Kyle said, wishing he had a different answer. “What you’ve been told is all we know right now.”
“Can I help?” Phaedra asked, her soft voice coming out a little shaky.
The offer was a surprise. Kyle knew how much Phaedra hated using her power, an inescapable reminder of the pain and loss she had sustained in Montana at Valerie’s hands. If anything, Kyle wished he or someone else on the team had her clairvoyance. To see in real time where Alexei and Sean might be…he’d honestly kill for that power right about now.
Phaedra wriggled off Tatyana’s lap and darted across the room to Kyle. He lifted an arm and accepted her hug, smoothing a hand over her hair. She tilted her face up at him, big brown eyes dominating her heart-shaped face.
“I can help,” she repeated shakily. “I can find them.”
Kyle could feel her trembling in his arms, a sure sign that, as genuine as the offer was, Phaedra was scared of using her power. He hugged her to him a little tighter. “I’m so proud of you for offering to use your power, because I know how much it scares you, solnyshka. But you’re too young to help.”
“Mama and Papa said I could if I wanted. Sean and Alexei are with bad people, so I want to help.”
Kyle glanced over at their parents. Evgeni shook his head. “<
Phaedra was a minor and under federal protection, but that didn’t mean they could arbitrarily use her power. Laws were in place to protect children turned into metahumans, and this was no different.
Except for how it felt like it was when it came to his family.
Katie? Kyle said, letting his thoughts rest at the edge of his mind, hoping she was listening.
Yes? she responded immediately, her telepathic voice echoing between his ears.
How likely could we get clearance for Phaedra to use her power?
Katie seemed surprised at that question. She wants to use her power?
She offered because it’s Alexei and Sean.
I don’t know how successful we’ll be. It’ll require a court order and it’s not a precedent I know the director wants to set. But her power would be damned helpful.
If the public found out—which they would, at some point—the cries of child soldiers would start up again. Congress treated metahumans like they treated human military recruits and had enshrined that treatment into law a hundred years ago. Metahumans, like everyone else, needed to legally be an adult to use their powers in service to the country. An exemption was rarely, if ever, granted.
I’ll ask, Katie promised before drifting out of his mind.
Kyle looked down at Phaedra’s upturned face and said, “We’ll ask.”
Phaedra scrunched up her nose before resting her forehead against his chest, huddling close. She was a tall, skinny little thing, all bony elbows and knees, and thin hands that were always holding onto someone.
Be alive, Lyosha, Kyle thought as he held Phaedra close. Please, just be alive.
Alexei couldn’t remember the last time he’d hurt so much.
Everything burned, and not in a good, fiery way.
His left eye was swollen shut and crusted with blood. One of Cillian’s punches had broken his cheekbone. The left side of his face was an ever-throbbing pulse of agony he couldn’t ignore. Every time he breathed, pain stabbed through his jaw and mouth. Alexei could feel the swollen heat from the damage on the inside of his mouth, though that could be from the handful of teeth he’d lost when Cillian used him as a punching bag.
The weight of the Faraday cage made it difficult to hold his head up, or maybe that was the blood loss. Alexei cracked open his right eye, vision blurry from one too many hits to the head. But he could still see, which told him his retina wasn’t detached—yet.
Blood stained the cold cement floor beneath his bare feet and around the chair he was tied to. His jeans had that odd stiffness to them that came from being saturated with something sticky before it dried, especially on his right side. Cillian hadn’t spared a single inch of flesh from his elbow to his wrist on the inside of his forearm.
Alexei’s gaze skittered away from the raw, red muscle that glistened beneath the lights hanging from the ceiling. Cillian had carved him up like a piece of meat, skin lifting away in translucent pieces as the Irishman skinned him alive. Every puff of breath, every tiny movement of air over the exp
osed muscle felt like getting cut by the knife all over again, overloading his nerves with teeth-clenching agony. Telling himself to breathe through it only made his chest hurt.
A door slamming shut and footsteps coming down the stairs forced Alexei to lift his head all the way, hazy attention latching onto Sean’s pale, swollen face across the way from him. Sean hadn’t made a single sound through the beating and skin-carving Alexei had endured. In fact, Alexei couldn’t remember him responding in any way to Cillian’s questions or goading. He’d taken the order for silence to heart, but Alexei ached to hear his voice, to hear something familiar in his ears other than his own screams.
Alexei knew there was no shame in screaming in a situation like this. His SERE training had emphasized that fact years ago when he’d gone through it the first time and again after joining the MDF. Rescue was always hoped for, but Alexei didn’t know where they were, or even what day it was. The hit from the neuro-jammer gun had fucked with his head and body far more deeply than the drug cocktail Sean had been subjected to.
“Still awake?” Cillian asked, not expecting an answer.
Alexei gave him one because he didn’t like the way Cillian was looking at Sean. “No bed. Shit service.”
Talking was difficult, but Alexei did it anyway, forcing the words out around a desert-dry tongue and swollen lips. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had any water.
“Yer still a fuckin' riot. About time we changed that.”
Cillian headed for the old work table shoved up against the wall of the basement, one of their ever-present armed guards stepping out of his way. Alexei turned his head as much as he could to keep Cillian in his sights. The Irishman picked up a set of metal pliers and made a show of clicking the sides of the metal head together.
Alexei did his best to glare at Cillian with one eye, jerking his left arm against the ropes binding him to the chair. He tried not to move his right arm all that much, the rawness of his forearm capable of derailing his entire focus. But the ropes didn’t give, and Alexei could only watch helplessly as Cillian circled around Sean’s chair to stand behind him. Sean tensed, hands curling into fists as he stared at Alexei with wide eyes, his entire body flinching every few seconds, pain lining his mouth and eyes.
It had taken a few hours for Alexei to finally figure out Sean was most likely trying to access his phase power by breaking through the Faraday cage. Nothing had come of his attempts, and Alexei wished more than anything that Sean would find a way to overcome the Faraday cage effects and get them out of there.
Until then, they could only watch each other endure Cillian’s cruel game.
Cillian gripped Sean’s shoulder, digging his fingers hard into the muscle there. Sean clenched his jaw against the pain, but otherwise, didn’t make a sound.
“Ye enjoyin’ th’ show?” Cillian asked.
When Sean obviously didn’t answer, Cillian grabbed him by the chin and yanked his head up, the wires lining his skull making a strange rustling sound. Sean tried to jerk his head away, lips peeling back from his teeth, breath coming faster, but there was nowhere to go. The pliers dug against the side of Sean’s face, bruised skin whitening out from the pressure.
“Been a bit too good fer me likin’. How ‘bout we have some fun? Mayhap let me boys have a go at yer traitorous arse an’ yer boy can watch fer a change. Put ye on yer knees an’ see how long it takes fer ye ta scream.”
The intent was made clear by the way Cillian dragged the pliers down Sean’s neck and chest, stroking them in a lewd manner over his groin. The thought of someone else touching Sean in such an intimate way sent rage burning through Alexei’s body, the electrifying pain of the Faraday cage bringing him back down to earth.
“Nyet,” Alexei snarled. He strained against the ropes tied around his torso even as the unrelenting agony threatened to shatter his skull.
Cillian smirked at him, face blurring through a haze of pain. Alexei forced himself to let go of his desire and need to use his pyrokinesis in order to remain conscious.
“Think he’s a bit fond o’ ye, Sean. Let’s find out how much ye care about him, aye?” Cillian raised the pliers to Sean’s face again and tapped them over his closed mouth hard enough to tear the scab there. “Open.”
Sean’s gaze flicked in Alexei’s direction, wide and worried and fearful. His few seconds of hesitation didn’t sit well with Cillian, who immediately smacked him in the face with the pliers hard enough to draw blood. Sean flinched, rocking back in the chair he was cuffed to. Cillian gripped him by the chin again, wrenching his head around.
“I said open,” Cillian growled. “Or I’ll start on yer boy. Ye make a sound, an’ I’ll make it worse.”
Sean opened his mouth on a heavy exhale, tensing when Cillian curled two fingers over his bottom teeth and pried his mouth further apart. The sharp angle that Sean’s head was pulled back at meant Alexei couldn’t see his face clearly, but he could see the pliers dip into Sean’s mouth, as if he were swallowing them.
Sean sat completely tense in the chair, breathing heavily as Cillian worked the pliers around in his mouth to find a decent angle. Sean jerked, leaning backward in an effort to escape the tool in his mouth, to no avail. Cillian worked the metal handles a few more times before prying a molar out of Sean’s mouth. Alexei knew how bad it got based on Sean’s response to the pain; the way he heaved rapidly for air, trying so hard not to make a sound.
The first tooth came out a cracked, bloody mess that Cillian flicked on the floor between them. The second tooth came out just as shattered. Bright red blood trickled out of both corners of Sean’s mouth, sliding down his tautly held throat to stain his shirt collar.
Cillian shoved Sean’s head back down so Alexei could get a good look at his bloody face. Sean’s eyes were closed, mouth smeared with blood that dripped off his chin.
“You want hurt someone, hurt me,” Alexei snarled, fighting through the hazy cloud of pain.
“Don't ye be worryin’. I’ll get ta ye soon enough.”
Alexei snarled wordlessly as Cillian yanked Sean’s head back again and shoved the pliers into Sean’s mouth, searching for another tooth.
It took six tries for Cillian to make Sean scream, four more molars getting tossed on the ground in front of Alexei as more blood stained Sean’s throat to the point it looked like it had been slit. His hands clutched the arms of the chair so hard he’d bent a couple of fingernails. Alexei watched with his heart in his throat as Cillian crushed the sixth tooth in Sean’s mouth, grinding the metal head of the pliers against his tender gums and the bone beneath. Sean finally let out a garbled scream, body arching against Cillian’s hold and the ties binding him to the chair as more blood dripped over his lips.
Cillian removed the bloody pliers from Sean’s mouth and pushed his head forward with a rough hand. Sean went weakly, sitting hunched over in the chair as blood poured from his mouth in a macabre waterfall to the floor. As Alexei watched, Sean spit out bits of broken teeth, breathing loudly through his nose. Tears mingled with the blood, but there wasn’t any shame in crying. Not in a situation like this. Alexei hoped Sean understood that he wouldn’t blame him for any of this.
“I did promise ta take it out o’ ye in payment if he made a sound,” Cillian said with a lazy shrug as he approached Alexei.
“Ya tebya ub’yu,” Alexei promised, meaning the words with every fiber of his being.
“That sounded like a threat. yer in no position ta make one.”
Cillian returned to the work table, dropping the bloody pliers next to a screwdriver. He picked up a claw hammer and gave it a few experimental swings before sauntering back over to where they were tied up.
“Are ye payin' attention now, Sean?” Cillian asked, the smile on his face almost cheerful in a sadistic sort of way.
Sean managed to sit up again, face a bloody mess, bottom lip torn wide from Cillian’s careless hands. His brown eyes were dull from pain, lashes wet and clumped from tears. Cool metal smacked ligh
tly against Alexei’s cheek and Sean’s eyes widened.
“Since ye made a sound, ye get ta choose. What does he lose first? An eye?”
The expression on Sean’s face twisted, his breathing coming quick and fast through his torn-up mouth. The hammer touched Alexei on the side of his face, near his one good eye. Sean shook his head, heaving for a second or two, sounding as if he was going to get sick, before he got himself under control.
The claws of the hammer scraped across Alexei’s bruised face to knock against his swollen lips. “His mouth?”
Alexei never took his eyes off Sean as the hammer dropped down to graze against his ribs and the painful bruises blackening his torso. “Ribs?”
“Is okay,” Alexei said, willing Sean not to look away. “Ya obishayu.”
No matter what happened, Alexei would never blame Sean for the actions of another. This wasn’t Sean’s fault for being forced to decide what happened next, what pain Alexei got to endure—because he could endure it. He would survive it. They’d live through this long enough to be rescued. Alexei had clung to that thought over the past however many hours Cillian had worked him over, and he held on tight to it still as the hammerhead ground down warningly on his left kneecap.
Sean stared at Alexei with grief in his eyes, a depth of heartbreak in them that made Alexei’s heart lurch in his chest.
When Sean nodded, Alexei wanted to kiss the agonizing look off his face.
“I hope yer enjoyin’ how Sean is hurtin’ ye,” Cillian said to Alexei as he drew back his arm.
“Fuck you,” Alexei spit out right before Cillian smashed the hammer down onto his knee.
Alexei screamed, the sound torn from his mouth like a war cry as Cillian brought the hammer down again. Pain rolled through his body in excruciating waves that eventually, thankfully, pulled him under into a blackness so deep it felt like a blessing.
In the Blood (Metahuman Files Book 4) Page 18