by White, T. A.
One problem down. Now on to the big one. She tested the bars and jerked back as the blue current nipped at her fingers. Tate used her shirt to cover her hands, exposing her midriff, before reaching for the bars again. This time the blue snapped at her, and she whimpered as the smell of burned cloth and flesh rose.
That was a no go. At least she’d learned that the current got stronger the more one messed with it. This way people couldn’t grow build up a tolerance against the pain. She stepped away from the bars in defeat. They weren’t getting out this way.
Dewdrop hovered at her shoulder as she walked the room’s perimeter. She determinedly ignored him as she tested the wall in places. Unlike the bars, the wall’s current didn’t grow stronger every time someone touched it. Probably to prevent it from accidently killing the prisoners, she mused.
This place was very well built. Designed to be escape proof. Maybe Dewdrop’s plan was really the only possibility. She shook her head and discarded it. There were just too many variables, making the chances for success shaky at best.
She kicked one wall in frustration and grunted when the blue nipped at her foot, leaving it slightly numb.
“I’m a banshee,” Dewdrop said abruptly.
Tate’s forehead furrowed as she tried to figure out what that had to do with anything.
“That’s how I escaped,” he said in explanation looking uncomfortable.
Tate still didn’t understand. He sighed and turned to face away from her. Sucking in a deep breath, he let loose a painfully piercing sound that only in the vaguest way possible resembled a scream. It went on and on, reverberating off the walls and building in intensity until it felt like Tate’s brain was being squeezed in a vice. She felt a trickle of blood slide down from her nose as she covered her ears and stumbled into the wall, her balance suddenly gone.
Suddenly the scream shut off. Tate blinked dumbly from where she leaned against the wall. The resulting silence was painfully loud. Slowly her ears acclimated and she could faintly hear the screams of the cubs and Night’s confused yowls.
“Banshee,” she whispered in awed.
The wall sparked against her and she jerked away from it, rubbing her tingling arm. Dewdrop’s body was tense as he prepared for contempt and fear.
Her eyes widened in realization. “Do that again,” she urged.
He jerked in surprise. “What?”
“Just do it. Night brace yourself. He’s going to scream again.”
Puzzled, but willing to humor her, he sucked in a breath and released it in an astounding wail. Even with her hands over her ears, the scream was intense enough to have her cowering away from it. Before the last note had died down, she rushed to the cage’s door and laid her hands on the metal.
“No sparks,” she whispered. She counted the seconds in her head, 21,22,23, zap. She jerked back. “About 23 seconds before it starts up again.”
She turned to a perplexed Dewdrop. “Do you know what this means?”
He shook his head not understanding why she was so excited about an ability that had isolated him and caused fear in others.
“We can escape,” she cried gleefully.
His eyes flickered from her and back to the bars. Understanding dawned. She nodded excitedly and reached out to pull his bony body into an exuberant hug. The hug was over before he could do more than stiffen in her arms. She ruffled his hair and turned back to the metal bars, muttering to herself about time limits and time management.
Hesitantly, he touched the hair she had ruffled and a shy smile stretched across his mouth, gone before it had fully formed. He joined her next to the lock and pointed out a few things she had missed.
“Night, good news. We have a plan,” she yelled to the next cell.
I thought you already had a plan.
Um. She pursed her lips with guilt. She had told him that. “This one’s better.”
She explained how Dewdrop’s screaming somehow managed to stop the current, buying them time to try picking the lock. “What I need from you is to keep an ear out for any approaching guards. This is going to be loud, and we don’t want them catching us trying to get loose.”
After a bit of adjusting, Dewdrop took his place in the middle of the cell with Tate behind him. She’d wanted to be right next to the door to have the maximum time with the lock until he’d explained that his scream at the right pitch could cause internal bleeding. She was happy to stay behind him after that.
His chest swelled, and then his cry rent the air. Tate cupped her ears and counted to five, the length of time they’d agreed upon. She was up and racing for the lock on shaky legs, before the last note had died. With shaking hands she inserted two pieces of thin metal. The guards had been so sure nobody could escape they hadn’t even bothered to check Dewdrop for lock picks. She twisted one of the pieces trying to find the tumblers. Almost there. Almost. Dewdrop tapped her shoulder signaling time was up. She pulled away just before the current snapped back.
Disappointed exclamations greeted her as she retreated. She held her hands up placating. “That was just the first try. It’s going to take a little time.”
She met Dewdrops eyes and tried to look reassuring. He nodded, and they took their places again. He opened his mouth to scream.
Someone’s coming.
Instead of an organ-melting cry, Dewdrop whimpered and backed away from the cell doors. Tate pushed him to the back of the cell before running to the entrance. She craned her neck trying to see around the corner to see who had joined them.
Ulric stepped into view, swinging a set of keys, as he stopped in front of the cubs’ cell. “You two have an appointment with the Red Lady,” he crooned. Over his shoulder, he said, “I hope you’ve said your good byes.”
A rage filled roar shook the room, and the metal bars shook as Night threw himself against them over and over again, the stench of singed fur invading the air. He roared until his throat was raw, and he hadn’t the strength to throw himself against the bars. Through it all, Ulfric, watched with a nasty grin twisting his lips.
Tate bowed her head, her eyes smarting. They weren’t ready. They just needed a little more time. Their plan was a good one and stood half a chance of succeeding with just a bit more time.
She swallowed and grabbed the bars and shook them hard, heedless as the flesh on her hands blistered. If they needed time, she’d get them that time. “Look at that pathetic excuse for a man, corralling a few tiny kittens,” she snarled. “I’ve seen more backbone in a worm than in your disgusting body.”
Dewdrop grabbed her arm and jerked her back. “What are you doing? He’ll give you to the Red Lady.”
She smiled, a wry twist of the lips, and cupped his face in her hands. “That’s the plan, little man.” She held his gaze with hers and said with deadly seriousness, “Our plan will work. You get them out and save yourselves. Yeah?”
He shook his head mutely and kept shaking it.
“What did you say to me?” Ulric roared, kicking the cage door.
Tate nodded at Dewdrop, telling him without words she had faith in him. Taking a deep breath, she prepared to give the performance of her life.
She kicked the door of the cage, feeling a sense of satisfaction when Ulric jumped back to avoid the rain of sparks. In a low, nasty voice, she said, “You heard me, shit-for-brains. Or do you have so little up there that you can’t understand, you cocksucking piece of offal, can’t get it up, piece of worthless excrement. Your mother should have killed you at birth to spare the world your diseased, plague-ridden presence.”
Ulric smiled, his teeth yellow from lack of care. “Big words from a feeble bitch who can’t even protect herself. I see what you’re doing, trying to distract me from them.” He nodded to the cubs and their wide, fearful eyes.
Tate’s stomach sank. She’d really hoped he’d be enraged enough not to remember his original purpose. “Let me out, and I’ll show you exactly what I can do.”
He laughed at that, throwing his head bac
k. “You’d like that wouldn’t you. No, I think I’ll go with the original plan.” He leaned closer to the bars until his rancid breath brushed along Tate’s skin. “I think that’ll hurt more than anything we can do to you. I want you to think of all the things we’re going to do to them because of your failure.”
With those final words, he walked away. Tate’s shoulders bowed. She’d failed and others would pay for her shortcomings. She clenched her hands, the bite of her nails drawing blood.
Ulric’s face popped into view again.
“On the other hand, why think about that when you can experience it for yourself.”
Tate’s heart beat painfully as he gestured for her to put her hands through the bars. The manacles he placed around her wrists were heavy and cold and seemed to sap her strength.
Her gamble had worked but the cost might be more than she was willing to pay.
Chapter Eleven
“My lady, I’ve brought the prisoner.” Ulric shoved Tate to her knees in front of a well-dressed lady seated on a raised dais. Gilded cages sat on either side of her, their occupants watching the proceedings with dull eyes.
The lady, her hands resting lightly on her throne’s armrests and dressed in a heavy gown in beautiful shades of gold and cream, looked distastefully down at Tate. The lady’s blonde hair was woven into a mass of small, complicated knots at the back of her head with strands curling around her face becomingly. Jewels dripped from her neck and winked from her fingers. She was in her mid thirties. Nice looking with a hint of cruelty running underneath.
It was obvious Ulric had interrupted her business, as two figures stood at the foot of the dais. Tate’s breath caught as she recognized the distinctive figure of Kadien. Her eyes went to the slight figure partially hidden by his. Umi. It had to be. What were they doing here? When they glanced at Tate kneeling on the floor, neither betrayed a former knowledge of her by so much as a widened eye or caught breath. It was as if they had never laid eyes on her in their life.
“This,” one long decorated finger pointed at Tate in obvious distaste, “is not what I requested. I wanted to play with the cubs.”
Ulfric bowed at the waist and Tate couldn’t help but be impressed at the unexpectedly graceful movement. She wouldn’t have thought he knew enough social graces to be able to pull one off.
“I thought—“
“You thought,” the lady suddenly shouted. “You thought. I do not require thought from my tools. You do what I tell you. Is that clear?”
Mountain man bowed his head deferentially.
“Now,” she said mollified. “What thought led you to defy my orders?”
“My lady, I would never willfully disobey an order unless I had vital information,” Ulfric said seeking to pacify her.
“Yes, yes, get on with it. I have other business,” she said, negligently waving his platitudes away.
“Lucius has men searching everywhere for her,” he said. “Our spies say that she has something of his, and he wants it back.”
“Oh?” For the first time, the Red Lady had something in her voice other than boredom or anger. It was interest. She turned her gaze on Tate, examining her.
Ulfric nodded. “She’s also the one who helped the beast escape. We found her and it lurking around. We think they were trying to rescue its spawn.”
“So you’re the reason that upstart is still alive,” the Red Lady drawled, her finger nails tapping against her armrest. “I dislike when others interfere with my plans.”
Tate shrank from the lust and greed in the woman’s voice.
“My lady?” Umi’s voice rang sweetly through the air, all the more so after the avarice of the Red Lady. “If we could conclude our business first?”
The lady sat back, reclining in her throne as she regarded Umi and Kadien with impatience. “There is nothing left to discuss. You did not deliver what you promised so I have no obligation to help you.”
“But-“
“No,” the lady’s voice rose in anger, thundering through the room. The pets in the cages flinched, as did several others in the room. Even Ulfric jerked before clasping his hands behind his back, though Tate wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t been kneeling right next to him. “You promised me a key that help unlock the fulcrum. Instead, you gave me a dud.” She hit the armrest with a closed fist. “If you didn’t want to give up your key then you should have stolen the cargo yourself instead of getting others to do your dirty work.”
In a sharp motion, the Red Lady threw an object at Umi. It clattered to the ground at Umi’s feet. It looked like the hairpin Tate had returned to her that first day. Tate edged closer. It was. Though she couldn’t make out fine details from this distance, it looked identical to the one she’d stolen and then given back. This was what had everybody in such a lather? It was pretty, sure, but not exactly unique. Any semi-gifted jeweler would be able to recreate it within the week.
Umi’s voice was coaxing as she said, “But, my lady, you already hold in your possession the one who either has it or knows who does.”
“I have no such person,” the lady snapped.
Tate couldn’t see Umi’s face so she couldn’t guess at what she was thinking, but she was beginning to get a nasty feeling about where this was heading.
“Oh, but you do.”
“I am tired of these game. Tell me what you know before I decide to entertain myself at your expense.”
“First, I would like the original terms of our contract observed,” Umi said.
“I don’t have the item anymore,” the Red Lady said thrusting her chin out. “It was stolen in transit.”
“Ah, but I know who stole it, so it will be a simple matter for you to steal it back and return it to me,” Umi said smoothly.
The Red Lady gave a regal nod in agreement. “Agreed. Provided that you know who stole it and aren’t lying.”
“Of course.”
“Very well. Where is this person?” the Red Lady asked.
It wasn’t a total surprise when Umi turned and walked to Tate, stopping in front of her. Tate looked up at her with extreme dislike. Umi’s face was impassive as she regarded Tate. The smallest smile of victory graced her lips for a fleeting moment.
“She is here.” Umi gestured to Tate.
“Her?”
“Your man said it himself. Lucius and his men are searching for her because she took something of theirs,” Umi said. “His men stole the key, and she stole it from them as a ruse to get close to my men and me.”
“That’s a lie,” Tate spat trying to stand up. Ulfric kicked her in the back of the knee. Pain shot from it, and her leg folded under her. She fell to the floor, unable to catch herself with her hands tied behind her back.
“Be careful of her,” Umi advised watching Tate’s ungraceful sprawl with dispassionate eyes. “She pretends at ignorance and naivety to get close to her mark.”
After her unsuccessful attempt at defending herself, Tate wasn’t interested in protesting the point. It was clear that there were no words in the world capable of convincing these people of her innocence. They didn’t care.
“Naughty, naughty, little morsel,” the Red Lady purred. To Umi, she said, “Very well, you’ll have my help tomorrow night.”
“Is it wise to discuss such things in front of her?” Umi asked, glancing at Tate. “She works for the enemy.”
“Do not tell me how to run my business, girl. If you have a problem with the way I do things, perhaps you should stage your little coup by yourself.”
Umi held herself stiffly, and if Tate hadn’t been crouched next to her she would have missed the skin tightening around her lips in displeasure. No doubt it was difficult for a lady of Umi’s refinement to take orders from the insane and petty woman who styled herself as nobility.
The Red Lady had let slip an interesting piece of information about a coup. Tate had to wonder if Umi was the legitimate owner of the lost item she’d employed Tate to recover. From the sound of things, it pl
ayed a pretty significant role in her bid for power. It also begged the question whether Ryu had known about Umi’s hidden agenda. This was probably the kind of thing Ryu had wanted her to report back on.
The Red Lady waved a hand in dismissal. Though it was obvious that Umi wanted to continue their discussion, she and Kadien reluctantly bowed and left.
“Guess you won’t be reporting back to your master after all,” Umi whispered to Tate.
Tate watched them go, wishing they would stay. She didn’t want to be the sole focus of the Red Lady’s attention.
“Now, my dear, I believe you have something of mine,” the Red Lady said descending from her throne.
Tate shook her head, unable to talk, her voice locked inside. She could feel her heart racing and her skin flush until she was sweating. She was no longer cold.
“Nothing to say?” the Red Lady asked, circling Tate. Around and around she went. At first Tate tried to keep track of her, but stopped after the woman’s third circuit. “How original. I’ve never seen that before,” the Red Lady said in a sweetly sarcastic voice. “We’ll just have to see what we can do to fix that.”
Tate’s skin was almost jumping in anticipation. She wished they’d just get on with it. The threat of the unknown was almost worst to contemplate than whatever they had planned for her.
A hand grabbed her hair and wrenched her head back, drawing her up off her knees. Her feet scrabbled against the stone, fighting to get their balance. Hair pulling. That wasn’t so bad.
Another hand caressed Tate’s cheek gently, and the Red Lady moved in front of her, changing the grip on Tate’s hair as she moved. The woman was much stronger than she looked.
“Amazing,” the Red Lady said, trailing her fingers from Tate’s cheek down to her collarbone. “There’s no fear in your eyes. It’s been so long since anybody has come before me with such courage. Watching that pride change slowly to fear will make breaking you that much sweeter.”
Her fingers tightened around Tate’s throat, becoming a vise, almost but not quite cutting off her oxygen. Tate jerked against her bonds, every instinct she possessed saying run. Fight. Escape. It was useless. Ulfric’s arms held firm.