by E. A. Copen
Now’s my chance, I thought. I can fight them. Even if I don’t overpower them, at least I’ll go down fighting. I watched them fight to pry the chains from the wall, waiting for my opportunity to strike.
It never came. Something hard slammed into my neck and sent a stunning bolt of electricity flowing down into my body. My brain stopped. My heart jumped. Everything stopped, everything except for the icy, electric fingers of pain. Only after I fell over, groaning and completely unable to move did they finally get the chains free from the wall.
Strong, calloused hands wrapped around either of my arms. I remained slumped over, groaning and fighting for breath as they dragged me forward. As soon as I could breathe steady again, I fought to shout at Warren as they dragged me past him. They didn’t let me go but it caused a small pause in our procession, long enough for me to turn and squint at Warren. “It’s called the Golden Rule, asshole, and it’s going to come back and bite you in the ass.”
There was no sunlight in the hall, but there was the comforting hum of fluorescent lights. Beyond that and the buzzing feeling in my limbs and the pounding in my chest, I was barely aware of anything until they summarily dumped me on a slanted tile floor. I lifted my head weakly for a look around and found no sign of an actual cross. Instead, there was a big post in the middle of the room, just before the floor began its slant toward a metal grate. Ominous stains populated the floor in spatters and pools. Tables lined one side of the room where a man in one of those black ski masks stood decked out in camo gear. His tables were lined with silver pins, scalpels and other various instruments crafted to maim and cause pain.
Torture it was, then. Great.
I lowered my head and tried to think about the best way to get through this. Their goal was to break down my mind, which they must have thought they could do by first breaking my body. I wasn’t in any state where I could physically protect myself, as the room was still warded against magick, but I could protect my mind.
There’s a method for steeling oneself against even the most brutal acts called compartmentalization. It involves mentally creating a safe place, be that a room, a chest or wherever you might feel safe, and then going there, closing and locking a door behind you. Compartmentalization is a common technique used by children who are frequently abused, rape victims, and it’s also taught to Special Forces soldiers to guard against torture. It’s why in movies they’re always spouting their name, rank and serial numbers, because that’s the mantra that somehow takes them to their happy place.
I hadn’t had such training. I’d only read about it. Creating a safe place was going to be mentally taxing and take time, time that perhaps I didn’t have.
My captors came again and picked me up. Hector and Amanda did something that connected the shackles on my wrists together like handcuffs and then repeated the process with my ankles. Then, they lifted me and tied me—not to the post as I’d expected—but to a cold, metal bench. Still naked against the cold, I shivered at the contact and then again when I realized I wasn’t to be the object of their torture today.
Espinoza went to stand before the post in the center of the room and unbuttoned his shirt.
I looked to Warren with panic choking me. “Stop, please! Leave him alone. If you want me then torture me and not him.”
Warren laughed as if we were having tea instead of witnessing torture. “Because torture won’t break you. You’d shoulder it, use it as fuel to make you stronger. The key to breaking you is breaking those you care about. We’ll start with him and move on to the others next.”
I fought to think of something, anything I could do to stop this, but I was out of options. I wasn’t going to sit there and watch them torture an innocent man.
As they worked to affix Espinoza to the post, I lowered my head and dug in deep, searching for the pit of anger and darkness at my core. It wasn’t hard to find, not after everything I’d just gone through. The power felt like it was on the other side of a brick wall, however, just out of reach. Warren might have cut me off from most of my magick, but not all. I was sure that if I concentrated hard enough, I could break through.
I closed off my mind, pushing out the chill in my bones, the hard bench underneath me, the sound of ropes tightening around Espinoza’s wrists as he went willingly to be beaten. It all came out in a breath, leaving behind nothing but a silent buzzing in my mind and the deep thrum of power just beyond my reach.
Warren’s backhand caught me off-guard. It struck with supernatural force, sending me tumbling to the side, my vision spinning. “Open your eyes and pay attention!”
I spat blood and forced myself to sit up, even though my head spun. The wall in my chest cracked as I glared at him and the tiniest bit of power leaked through. “You want to see what I can do so badly?”
Black fire danced in my hands behind my back and raced up my arms, ready to devour anything it touched. With a word, I could have sent it after Warren. I could have torn his aura apart and left him a drooling mess. It was no less than he deserved.
Before I could send the fire, however, I remembered what I had seen before, the barbed wire weaving in and out of Warren’s skin. He was being tortured, too, every day of his life. Maybe I could save him. Maybe nobody had to die.
“Stop!” Warren screeched and his voice cracked. He hit me again, this time hard enough to knock me off the bench.
The hold I had on my power slipped away as I crashed to the floor, all the wind knocked out of me, and struggled to draw a breath into my burning lungs. I turned my head and spat blood. “Not so fun when the power’s directed at you, huh?”
Warren leapt over the bench and grabbed a handful of my hair, hauling me up. “So you can do it,” he hissed at me through clenched teeth. “Now that I know for certain, I don’t need you to show me. You’re going to serve me, Judah, whether you like it or not. And you’re going to wish you’d kept that smart mouth of yours shut.”
I swallowed and fought the urge cry. Me and my big mouth.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Ed
“Nunchucks?” Angel arched an eyebrow. “As in Bruce Lee Enter the Dragon nunchucks?”
Why is it that whenever you bring up nunchucks, that’s the movie everyone goes to? I rolled my eyes and sighed at the window. The house sat empty. Sal must have called Shauna and Daphne already. Otherwise, I would have called one of them to bring me what I needed. Angel and Bran might have been badass, but they had no clue when it came to gaming.
“No, not that kind of nunchuck. It’s like…” I tried to think of how to describe it and came up empty. “Look, have you never seen a Wii before? Seriously?”
Angel wrinkled her nose. “I don’t have time for games, kid. Tell me what you need and I’ll find it.”
“It may be better for him to go and get it,” Bran said. “Is your behind healed?”
I frowned and rubbed the left cheek through my borrowed pair of sweats. It wasn’t completely healed, but it did feel a little better. I could walk on it, I’d just be stiff and slow going. And I didn’t know exactly where my nunchucks were. It could take a while to find them. Dammit, I should’ve listened to Daphne and cleaned my room last month. “Yeah, I think I can manage. Just don’t go anywhere without me, okay?”
“I think I’d better go with him just in case,” Angel volunteered. “I don’t like the idea of letting an injured werewolf buddy of mine walk into an unguarded house at night with predators around.”
“Buddy?”
She reached in front of me and opened the door before pushing me toward it. “Don’t get hung up on it. Let’s go.”
I stumbled out of the car and winced at the pain of putting weight on my left leg. It hurt, but it was bearable. Angel went up the stairs and propped open the storm door while I fumbled with the false rock that hid the spare key. I popped it open and found it empty inside. “The hell?”
“What is it?”
“Spare key’s gone.” I showed her the empty plastic rock.
&nbs
p; Angel cursed and grabbed for the door, turning the knob. It went without protest and opened.
“That shouldn’t be open. Daphne always locks the door. She chews my ass if I don’t.” I bit my lower lip.
“I’ll go first,” Angel whispered. “You stay behind me.”
I huffed, but obeyed. I still hadn’t figured Angel out. Granted, she wasn’t in my pack so I didn’t exactly have to bow to her commands, but she wasn’t a normal werewolf. She acted like Shauna or Sal, someone way up a hierarchy, but not quite. And what she’d done with her eyes, reflecting that back on me… I’d never seen anything quite like it. She acted protective like an alpha, but didn’t seem to get all worked up when other people challenged her position in a group. Maybe it was because she wasn’t in a pack. Hell if I know. I just like to chase rabbits and fetch balls under the full moon.
Inside the house, it was dark. Everything seemed in order. The living room smelled faintly of Daphne’s favorite powdered deodorizer and the tofu she’d probably made for dinner. I paused and sniffed. There was something else, a new, metallic smell with strong undertones of earthy decay, rust and… Was that Axe body spray?
“Smell that?” Angel whispered as she pawed at her nose.
I sneezed and nodded. “Can’t smell hardly anything through it. Yuck.”
“Probably the point. It’s what I’d spray to cover my scent from werewolves.” She stepped into the center of the living room and let out a loud snarl. “Whoever the hell is in here, show yourself right now and I promise I’ll rip your head all the way off instead of leaving it dangle.”
A shotgun pumped right next to my head, forcing my heart to jump into my throat. “I could have killed you three times before you even knew I was here.”
Angel spun with a growl, but was suddenly blinding by the beam of a flashlight as it swept over us. “Who the hell are you?”
I squinted against the flashlight. “Abe?” It sounded like him and looked like him. At least, whoever it was had the big, floppy hat and long coat. Without my sense of smell, I couldn’t tell for sure.
“Abraham,” he corrected, sounding annoyed. “And you two should be more alert.”
It hit me suddenly that he’d broken into my home and deliberately tried to mask that he was there. My heart stopped beating in my throat and fell into my stomach. Shit. He had to be there for the hard drive. I clenched my fists and turned my head to glare at the half-vampire behind me. “If you’re here for the hard drive, it’s gone.”
Abe shifted the flashlight and arched an eyebrow. “Ah, so you are the one who had it, as I suspected. Have you seen what was on that hard drive?”
I swallowed and nodded slowly. “Are you going to kill me?”
“Not on my watch!” Angel growled.
Abe shifted the barrel of the gun to her, holding it there for a long moment before lifting it away. “Contrary to what you might believe, I am on your side.”
I stumbled out of reach as quick as I could and turned on him. Having my back to another predator made me uneasy. “Then explain why you beat the shit out of Judah and why you were with those unmarked military guys.”
Abe frowned. “That is a complicated answer, too complicated for the time we have, so I will give you a simple, yet incomplete answer. Despite appearances, BSI is not one cohesive group. There are opposing factions within the organization. There are those of us who disagree with many of the policies in place, but doing so is dangerous. What I do is even more so. I work in intelligence.”
I blinked. “You’re a spy?”
Abe’s whole chest heaved with a sigh and he rolled his eyes. “Of sorts. That hard drive is important evidence. I must reclaim it.”
“How do we know you’re not lying?” Angel muscled forward to stand between Abe and me, arms crossed.
“You do not. However, if I do not get this hard drive tonight, things will get much more difficult for everyone. Those military guys—” Abe moved his fingers in the air, making quotes. “—are a suicide squad. In less than two hours, they will storm the Tribulation Adventists compound and neutralize everyone inside before setting the place on fire, erasing all evidence.”
My mouth suddenly felt dry. I exchanged a glance with Angel. “Judah is there right now.”
“What?” Abe reached out and grabbed me by the shirt and tugged me closer.
I may or may not have let out a surprised, very unmanly sounding yelp.
“What do you mean Judah is there? She should be incapacitated! I made certain—”
Abe stopped, his eyes widening with realization. He let go of my shirt, muttering something profane in Russian. “That woman’s stubbornness knows no bounds.”
“Well, she’s not there of her own free will, you know.” I tugged on the hem of my shirt, straightening it. “And it’s not Hector that’s the problem from what I saw. It was the kid. He’s got her and Espinoza hostage.”
“Explain,” Abe demanded.
“In a minute. First, I need my nunchuck,” I said and pushed past him.
My room was on the other side of the kitchen at the end of a short hallway. I flipped on the light and took in the mess of candy wrappers, chip bags, and empty Red Bull cans. It’s a wonder we don’t have mice, Daphne would say. But I didn’t think mice would frequent a home where three werewolves lived. Not smart mice, anyway.
The last time I’d seen my Wii remote was when Daphne was thinking about having a yard sale. She wanted me to sell them because I didn’t use them enough and put them in a shoe box with all my other old controllers. Daphne was like that, a clean freak, environmentally conscious, a goody two-shoes. I love my sister, but man she can get on my nerves.
Anyway, most of my shoe boxes went under my bed when I got my new chair a few months ago, so I got down on my knees, pushed aside the trash and started digging. Video game controllers weren’t the only thing I kept under there. I had to move whole stacks of old games, cheat codes, manga and a couple of old game guides to get to the boxes.
Angel sighed from the doorway. “You know, most single guys your age keep porn under their beds and not…” She bent over and picked up an old binder and flipped it open before spinning around to show it to me. “Pokémon cards?”
I snatched the binder away from her. “Magic: The Gathering!”
“Whatever.”
“And I’m not single. Bad guys got my girlfriend.”
“Uh-huh,” said Angel, crossing her arms.
“Contrary to popular belief, not all nerds are socially awkward, live in our parents’ basements, and live to troll people on the internet who can’t spell.”
“How is your sister’s spare bedroom different from your mom’s basement?”
I ignored her comment, mostly because I found the shoebox I was looking for and placed it on the bed. The box was full of cables, batteries and other odds and ends, with the Wii remote and nunchuck buried at the bottom. I grabbed both and hooked them up, waving them at Angel with a triumphant smile on my face.
“Video game controllers?” She rolled her eyes. “You made us stop for that?”
I turned and dug around in the plastic bin beside my bed where I’d collected all the things Mara had left in my room. Lipstick, nail polish, a bobble head… My fingers caught something metal. There it is!
I pulled out the pair of brass knuckles and tossed them to Angel, who caught them and whistled. “Now that’s more up my alley.”
“Don’t mess them up. They’re my girlfriend’s.” When Angel gave me a curious look, I added, “She used to have a dangerous job.” I didn’t tell her Mara used to be a stripper and had nearly been killed by a stalker because Angel would have just poked more fun at me.
She tucked the brass knuckles away. “You have everything you need?”
“Yeah, let’s go.”
I stood. Angel turned and we both paused when we saw Abe waiting in the doorway with his arms crossed. “She went back to the compound,” he said, referring to Judah.
“Pretty s
ure Hector and his goons have them,” I answered. “We’re going to go and get them back. You feel like helping?”
Abe’s lips rolled back, revealing vampire fangs. “Judah is my partner, and my employer would not be happy if something were to happen to her. I also happen to like her a great deal.”
Angel and I exchanged glances. “Is that a yes?”
“That is, as you would say, a hell yes.”
~
Bran got out of the car when he saw us coming back with Abe. “Look who we found,” Angel reported.
“He’s with us,” I clarified. “And our little rescue just got a lot more complicated. We need to get Sal and the others up to speed.”
We piled into the car while Abe waited outside. His truck was parked down the street, he said, and he’d follow us as soon as everyone was on the same page. Bran dialed Sal on his phone. I told him what Abe had said. After a moment of silence, Sal answered, “That doesn’t change anything. It just adds a layer of urgency. You guys need to meet us here yesterday.”
“Wait,” I called before Sal hung up. Everyone froze and looked at me. “Shouldn’t we come up with a plan or something?”
“I think the plan is…” Bran started.
Angel made a fist and hit the palm of her hand. “Tear the place apart board by board if we have to and get our people the hell out.”
“And if they’re hostages? What then? They might shoot Judah, Espinoza and Mara as soon as they see us.”
“We will meet with Sal and the others at the rendezvous point and discuss strategy,” Bran agreed. “We have to be prepared for a hostage situation.”
“We have to be prepared for anything,” Abe agreed and tipped his hat.
~
The first rendezvous point was outside of the rez on the side of the road. Sal had pulled over there. Shauna, Daphne, Hunter and Reed sat in the bed of the truck with Reed huddled near the cab. Sal leaned against the tailgate, smoking. Three cigarette butts sat, crushed on the side of the road at his feet. Bran pulled up behind Sal and Abe stopped behind us.
Sal pushed away from the truck when he saw Abe get out and snarled, showing gold eyes and teeth. “What the hell is he doing here?”