Seven Seals, Books 1 & 2

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Seven Seals, Books 1 & 2 Page 20

by Traci Douglass


  He cast a longing glance at his comfy bed and sighed before pulling on a knit hat and gloves. No time for sleep now. Had to get to Xander.

  Tolbert was a trap.

  • • •

  Argus appraised the sterile holding room they’d escorted him to. After his so-called tour of the facilities, the bastards had brought him here under the guise of corporate security. Bullshit of the highest magnitude. He was the fucking king of misdirection and knew a set-up when he faced one. Hadn’t these nuggets ever heard of air conditioning? Sweat poured down his face.

  He glanced at the bland steel and glass. Several small holes were cut into the ceiling surrounding the light fixtures. Surveillance cameras tracked his every move. He twiddled his thumbs. Should have known the half-breed bastards were behind this. Without the benefit of windows, Argus quickly lost track of time. Where the fuck was Mallory?

  The guy had disappeared after dropping him off in the Director’s office. The two men had spoken words Argus had not heard in eons. Enochian. The language of the angels. Figures. Fucking Nephilim asshats.

  A door opened and he swiveled to find the Director, flanked by Mallory on one side and a stranger on the other. All three pricks wore those damned sunglasses and sported condescending smirks when they took seats opposite Argus. We’ll see who’s smiling after I take over, shitheads.

  “We have recently discovered you possess something our organization needs.” The Director spoke with all the emotion of a weather scanner.

  “What exactly would that be?” Argus flashed them a cold stare. He studied a fidgeting Mallory. Streaks of red disappeared under the collar of the nervous man’s starched white shirt. Nail marks? His claws itched to make a few indentations of their own.

  “Antares.” Director Douchebag leaned back in his chair, confidence oozing from his every stinking pore. The massive stranger to his left sat forward and clenched his beefy hands.

  “Sorry, boys. The Scion took it from me a couple days ago.” The perfect replica on his chest was none of their fucking business. His mark heated and he swallowed hard.

  Mallory whispered something in his boss’s ear. Director D turned to Argus with a satisfied smirk. “Open up the shirt.”

  “Why?”

  “Do it!” The big boss wasn’t smiling anymore. The hulking stranger moved to stand beside him, his suit coat pulled back to reveal a holstered weapon.

  Argus loosened his tie and slipped the top button free.

  The bodyguard drew his gun and cocked it. Argus undid the next and had reached for the third when an alarm sounded. Mallory pulled out his phone and stalked to the door before hanging up. A less than subtle sneer covered his weasel-like features. “We have company, sir.”

  The Director rose, red-faced, and spoke to Mallory. “Make sure the girl is secure.”

  Mallory bustled out. Director Douchebag reached down and ripped open Argus’s shirt. Buttons flew in all directions, clinking to the floor and pinging off the walls. The expensive broadcloth ripped with a prolonged scritch. A cold smile formed on the Director’s chalk-pale lips when he took in the perfectly replicated triangular burn. “Don’t let him leave this room.”

  • • •

  Zoe huddled on the corner of her cot while the siren blared.

  They’d brought her here the day before, and she’d been terrified. Now, a calm reserve coursed through her. She’d read them easily enough, despite their obvious training. Their puny mental shields posed no real competition for her well-honed skills.

  She’d kept her secret hidden since she and Mira had run away twelve years earlier. People had always treated her like a freak and her abilities only made things worse.

  The door outside her cell opened, and the nervous little man who’d interrogated her earlier paced in front of her enclosure, speaking rapidly into his phone. She slipped into his mind, searching for a name. Mallory. She spotted the claw marks on his neck and smiled. She’d enjoyed giving him those. The little fucker thought he’d intimidate her, did he? Not a chance. He ended his call and faced her. “Enjoying yourself, bitch?”

  Face placid, she stared back into the reflection of his mirrored glasses. “How’s the neck, Mallory?”

  He swallowed hard and threw up his barriers. “Stay out of my head. I guarantee you won’t like what you find.”

  Zoe gave him her nastiest smile and wrapped her arms around her knees. Nothing these men did to her would be any worse than her previous experiences. “Why the alarm? Someone escape?”

  He stepped closer, his odious expression smacking of serial-killer charm. “Fresh meat.”

  The door sprang open behind him and three men dragged in a large, black tarp. They dumped the contents into the cell beside hers, tumbling a body out onto the concrete floor. The guards slammed the steel bars shut and bumped Mallory on their way out.

  Zoe glanced over at the jumble of limbs. She recognized the buzz-cut hair and the tattoo on his biceps. “What’s he in for?”

  Mallory gripped the bars of her cage tight. “You’ll find out.”

  • • •

  “How much farther?” Mira whined as she tromped through the knee-deep snow. The ground sucking at her boots made each step a battle. Her legs burned from exertion, and her chest ached from breathing the sub-zero air. Her scarf and ski mask did little to prevent the chafing gusts from scouring her face. Had she ever been this cold in her life? Mira peered through her snow-speckled goggles at the sea of white surrounding them, glad for the windshield Xander and Chago’s big bodies provided.

  “We should be close. Over the next hill.” Xander pointed a gloved hand to a ridge of pine trees about fifty feet away. “You okay?”

  She nodded and trudged forward. The warriors weren’t faring much better. Chago kept mumbling behind his mask, and although she couldn’t decipher the words, their meaning was quiet clear. If her lips hadn’t frozen solid, she would’ve smiled.

  A boom sounded behind them and she jumped. A pair of hands grabbed her waist. She struggled against the foreign, ironclad grip, determined to get away. In the next breath, she found herself atop broad male shoulders.

  “Blimey! It took me forever to find you guys out here in the frozen tundra.” Wyck grinned up at her. “I thought you could use a break there, half-pint.”

  She gave him a thumbs-up from her perch and scanned the area around them.

  Xander clapped Wyck on the shoulder. “Glad you joined us.”

  “Sorry to be tardy. This storm’s bad.” Wyck flashed an apologetic half smile. “This is a set-up, Xan. They know we’re coming.”

  “I’m sure they do. We don’t have a choice.”

  Chago squinted through the driving snow and mumbled behind his thick scarf.

  “Why yes, I am awesome. Thanks for saying so, Chay!” Wyck knocked him on the back.

  Mira laughed. Chago’s white-hot glare blasted Wyck. His icy brows knitted and he struggled to form his gloved fingers into the appropriate gesture. After several failed attempts, Chago settled for giving Wyck a hard shove before stomping ahead to a grove of pine trees.

  They approached the rise and Mira scanned the area below from her perch. “We’re here.”

  At Xander’s nod, Wyck lowered Mira to the ground, then they skidded downhill to skirt the wall of the compound. After a check of the building’s outer defenses, Chago ducked behind a column and pulled off his thick gloves to pick the lock on the service door. He peered inside, then waved the others over.

  They ducked into a supply closet to remove their outdoor gear then re-emerged into the hallway. Wyck checked for security cameras and found a secure hideout beneath the stairwell. They crouched and went over the building’s schematics again.

  “Okay, Wyck. You and Mira head to this location.” Xander pointed to the space marked HC on the plans. Wyck nodded to Mira.

  “Chago, you and I are going to the Director’s office. We rendezvous back here in one hour.” Xander stuffed the papers into a heating vent near the basebo
ard. “Let’s do it.”

  • • •

  Argus eyed the stranger while he pulled his torn shirt together. This was not going as he’d planned. He shifted in his seat and glanced at the mass of muscle to his side, noting the tailor-made suit, expensive leather shoes, and a military-grade weapon not available to the general public. These chicken shit half-breeds are doing okay for themselves.

  “Stop staring, you demon piece of filth.” The guard didn’t move a muscle, yet menace radiated off him like nuclear waste.

  Argus yearned to rip those glasses off his smug face and show him just how filthy a Son of El could be. God, he loved the crunch of bones in the afternoon. “Who’s going to stop me, fucksqueak? You?”

  “Don’t tempt me, demon.”

  Rage boiled inside Argus, and he searched for a way to disarm the bastard. “Why not?”

  “Because I’d have to kill you.”

  “Go for it, smackweed!” Argus launched out of the chair and tumbled them both to the floor. He punched his opponent with a strong right hook and sent his glasses flying across the room. No fucking way! Argus shielded his eyes from the laser-bright glow now beaming back.

  Shots rang out. Pain flooded Argus’s chest. The bullets shredded his regenerated heart and emerged out the other side. He slumped forward, then toppled to the ground. The man brushed off his suit and picked up his mangled shades. Argus sneered up into his opponent’s self-satisfied smirk. His shooter slid the broken glasses into place over his molten eyes and leaned down. “You should have listened to me, demon.”

  • • •

  Mira followed Wyck through the doors marked HC and slipped inside. Wyck surveyed the area and smiled. “Looks like we hit the jackpot.”

  She spotted her best friend in the corner and ran to her, relief and renewed adrenaline flooding her system. “What happened, Zoe? How’d you get here?”

  “I went out for some air, and these assholes grabbed me off the sidewalk. They drugged me. Next thing I knew, I woke up in this place.” Zoe jerked her head toward the next cell. “They brought him in this morning.”

  Mira squinted at the large lump huddled on the floor. Kagan! She rushed to his side. “Shit! What did they do to him?”

  Wyck squatted and reached through the bars to check his pulse. “He’s alive. They probably gave him something similar to the stuff we used on Argus.”

  Mira shivered. She remembered those drugs all too well.

  “You okay?” Wyck stood and walked over to Zoe.

  “Yep. Can you get me out of here?”

  “Can I get you out of here?” He held up a slim pack of tools and waggled his brows. A few minutes later, the door swung open and he waved her out.

  “Thanks,” Zoe said as she passed.

  He winked at her. “Least I could do for my accomplice.”

  “Accomplice?” Mira frowned, looking between the two of them. Was that the reason Zoe ignored Xander? Did she have the hots for Wyck?

  Zoe kept lookout at the main door while Wyck picked the lock on Kagan’s cell. Once it was open, Mira crawled to Kagan’s side and cradled his head in her lap. She patted his cheek lightly and shook his shoulder. “C’mon, baby, wake up.”

  “That’s not going to get anybody up.” Wyck hoisted Kagan up by the collar of his shirt and belted him hard across the face.

  Within moments, Kagan awakened and scrambled to his feet. He assumed an attack stance while his gaze darted around the room before finally coming to rest on Mira. “Where are we, piccola?”

  “Tolbert Headquarters.” She smoothed a hand over his forehead. She’d never been so glad to touch someone. “They drugged you and brought you here this morning. I flashed in with the guys.”

  Kagan scrubbed his face. “Those Nephilim bastards were in my apartment when I woke up.” He massaged the side of his neck and winced. “Vaff! They jabbed me with a syringe, paralyzed me.”

  Wyck’s attention snapped toward the entrance. “Someone’s coming. We need to move!”

  They bustled out the door and hid below the stairwell. Mallory passed into the holding area. Seconds later he burst out, his phone in hand. “Gone. No! I don’t give a shit. Find them!”

  • • •

  Xander and Chago snaked through the eerie silence of the compound, keeping a watchful eye out for anyone tracking their movements—for anyone, period. So far, they’d encountered no one. Not a single person. Xander’s head began to throb again. Shit. Not now.

  They crossed the plush carpet of the executive floor toward the Director’s office. Chago removed his gun while Xander palmed a dagger in each hand. Upon reaching their destination, the warriors flanked the entrance and counted to three.

  Xander kicked in the door in and they burst through. Wood splintered along with his composure. Jesus! His head was killing him. He hovered for a moment, blinking to clear his blurring vision. Steady once more, he proceeded farther into the empty office. A light glowed above the large desk at the room’s center. The chair behind rotated slowly as though its occupant had made a recent, hurried departure.

  Chago scanned the files strewn about the desktop. “Xan, check this out.”

  “How the hell did they get Mira’s file?” Xander stared at the tattered manila folder.

  “Looks like she’s not the only one they’re keeping tabs on.” Chago held up Zoe’s photo.

  “Goddammit! Anything else?” Xander snatched Zoe’s picture from Chago’s hand. His head throbbed, and his hands started to shake. He fought the psychic barrage pounding on his consciousness and shoved the photo in his pocket.

  At Xander’s command, Chago grabbed Mira’s information and tucked it under his arm. They turned to leave.

  “Going so soon, gentlemen?”

  The Director lounged against the doorway.

  Chago pointed his gun between the man’s eyes. “Out of our way, mestizo.”

  “Is that any way to talk to your superior?”

  The door slammed shut as the Nephilim leader shook his head in mock sorrow. Excruciating ripples of agony tore through Xander’s temples. Christos! They needed to escape. Now!

  Xander shot Chago a look, and they both attempted to flash. After a few moments, they each peeked an eye open and realized they were still in the office.

  Ierá skatá! Xander’s mind flooded with images of Zoe surrounded by Nephilim. Experiments. Torture. Death. His daggers dropped from his hands, and warm moisture trickled from his ears. He clutched his ravaged skull and fell to his knees.

  The Director clapped as he approached. “Nice try, Xander. Your abilities will serve us well.” He stepped over Xander’s writhing body and smiled, taking his seat behind the desk. “Now, Chago. If you’ll be so kind as to return my files, I’d appreciate it.”

  Chago aimed for his enemy’s head and pulled the trigger. The gun clicked. Nothing happened.

  The other man lowered his raised hand. “Really, Scion. This is the best you can do?”

  Xander was lost in a world of hurt. He’d not been without strong mental shields since his childhood. Now, his barriers lay crumbled and tattered by the onslaught of torture ripping through his psyche. He was vaguely aware of a sudden grip on his arm, of being hoisted into the air. Chago’s shouts ricocheted beside the screams in his head—so many screams, so much pain, so little time. More shots fired followed by the sound of shattering glass. Chago grabbed him, hurled him toward the opening and then he was airborne. Falling from the top story of the building. Falling like the snow around him. Falling to oblivion.

  • • •

  After Mallory blustered through, the group eased from the stairwell to the rendezvous point. Mira’s curiosity was piqued, and she wanted answers. She grabbed Zoe’s arm while they snaked through the maze of service hallways. “Do you and Wyck have something going on?”

  Zoe pulled free. “I’m not a complete idiot, you know.”

  “I never said you were. I thought with the way Xander . . . ” Mira frowned. “Never mind.”
<
br />   “What about Xander?” Zoe arched a brow and moved ahead to stand near Wyck.

  Mira followed after her, only to be halted by a tug from behind. Kagan twined a finger through her belt loop and smiled, following her until they reached the rendezvous point.

  Wyck pulled out their gear, then checked the time. “Five minutes past the hour. Where the hell are they?”

  Mira shook her head and zipped up her coat. She glanced at Kagan’s lack of cover and handed him her gloves. “You’ll freeze with nothing on.”

  He grabbed her hand and kissed the palm. “Thanks, piccola. But you keep them. As soon as we get outside, I’m flashing you home.”

  Footsteps echoed from the opposite end of the hallway. Wyck grabbed Zoe, and Kagan pulled Mira to him. Together they crammed inside the small supply closet. Another alarm sounded, and armed guards stormed out the service door to check the perimeter.

  “Shit! Where the hell are Xander and Chago?” Wyck whispered.

  “Captured?” Kagan tightened his hold on Mira’s waist. She covered his hand with her own and squeezed. His warmth blossomed around her and she smiled. She’d never felt safer.

  A loud boom shook the building and sent them tumbling from the closet. The lights flickered and debris rained from the ceiling. Mira clutched Kagan’s arm with one hand and covered her nose and mouth with the other as dust choked her lungs.

  Zoe shielded her head and glanced around. “What the hell’s going on?”

  The smell of sulfur permeated the air, and black smoke billowed from the heating vent. Wyck and Kagan spoke in unison. “Lucifer.”

  Chapter 17

  “We can’t wait.” Kagan grabbed Mira’s arm and headed for the exit. “We need to go now!”

  Wyck helped Zoe slip into a janitor’s uniform then pushed her out the door after Kagan.

  “We have to reach the tree line in order to flash out of here.”

  Kagan exited into the blinding white snowpack. He pulled out his gun, high-tailing for a small group of pines at the edge of the property, oblivious to the bitter cold. He gave Mira what he hoped was a reassuring smile as he plowed along beside Wyck.

 

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