“What are they doing to you?”
“I don’t know, I don’t. They come in and take blood and then they touch my head and give me dreams.” He shuddered. “Who are you? Can you get me out?”
“I will, but you might have to be strong a bit longer. Can you do that for me?”
“It’s so hard.”
“I know and you’re being brave. Try for me.”
He swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut. “I’ll try.”
“Tell me what the dreams are like, Gus.”
“Weird. I’m with a group of others but we’re all floating, lost and scared.” He paused. “How are you going to get me out?”
“I’m going to tell Estelle.” That was true enough.
Gustav’s face was awed. “You know the seneschal minor?”
This choked Estelle. “She’s seneschal now.”
“I didn’t know.”
“How many are there? What did they do?”
“I didn’t want to join the Dawning. I went to a meeting with a guy I knew and they drugged me and I ended up here. I don’t know how many. They never talk.”
Estelle asked him a few more questions, but Gustav couldn’t confirm anything. Finally, she laid a hand on his head, ready to make him forget he’d seen her. She didn’t know if it was crueler to let him hope or not, but she had to make sure her visit remained secret. After the alert of yesterday, the Dawning might be even more vigilant.
Once her hand touched his skin, though, it was like an electric shock. Gustav wasn’t alone in his mind. There was another subtle presence and she recognized it.
Yangzei.
She pulled her hand back as Gustav gasped with surprise. “Did that hurt?” she asked.
“What did you do?”
In answer, she put her hand back on his cool skin. This was her chance to find out what they were doing with the captured arcana. At first, she could feel nothing but Yangzei’s presence, and it was like an empty ghost, as if he’d placed a small monitoring sensor in poor Gustav’s mind. She began to probe cautiously, the effort of going up against an Ancient causing sweat to roll down her face. A strange sensation came from her mind, as though it was being touched from the inside.
“Hello, Estelle.”
Her stomach clenched. This was not from Gustav’s head.
She turned and faced Madden, standing at the door, flanked by Pearl and three others.
* * * *
Stephan woke in his bedroom, with a lingering headache. Remember, you’re human. You heal slowly. He gave an exaggerated groan and put his hands to his temples, as though trying to control a migraine. The groan turned real as the voices of the multitude called out in his mind. He hadn’t realized how actively he’d been resisting them.
“You had quite the adventure yesterday.” Juana stood up from the corner of the room and Stephan squinted at her, then felt around his head. The lump from where he’d hit it had mostly disappeared, although the area was tender.
“I need some water.” This part was true. He paused as though remembering what had happened. He sat up straight, groaned again and mumbled, “The guard. Is he okay?”
Better that Juana think he hadn’t seen what had happened. Safer.
She passed him a glass of water. “What did you see?”
He drank it down and leaned forward as if controlling nausea. He might be suffering a concussion, he reminded himself. “It was a toilet. I was plunging it and then there was yelling. The guard was yelling. I turned around and,” he shook his head and winced. “I don’t know. I got punched in the head. I must have. This lump.”
“The guard hurt his arm, so he’s been sent back home to recover,” said Juana smoothly. “You’ll need to rest a couple of days at least. We’d prefer you to stay here so we can monitor the head injury, unless you have someone at home who can do it?”
He shook his head and remembered to gulp in pain.
“Good,” she said. “Get some sleep. We’re investigating your attacker. Stay in here for your own safety.”
The lock turned from the outside when she left.
Not good.
He rolled out of bed and checked himself over. Juana had lied about the guard—a ripped-out throat was definitely not an injury that could be cured with a bit of bedrest and flat ginger ale—so he didn’t know if they had found the escaped vampire or not. He doubted Juana had locked him in for his own protection.
She suspected him. A quick check showed no punctures in his elbows, but it was possible that they’d taken his blood and then healed the wounds. He had to run under the assumption they knew he was arcana and that he wasn’t here to support the Dawning.
What if they knew about Estelle?
He needed out as soon as possible. He was in the previous night’s clothes, so he stripped down and chose new ones without blood splatter. Sitting on the bed, he ran through his options. For now he’d continue the pretense he was simply human. Escape routes. He stretched his arm out as he considered how to get out of the room. The doorknob didn’t move when he checked it. The room was on the second floor, but over a high lobby that made leaping out dicey even for a masquerada. What about up? He craned his head up and out and assessed it. Not great, but doable. The builders had patterned the brick so that some of them stood out from the exterior wall.
Much like a climbing wall, noted Stephan with growing interest.
Well. He could climb.
He took a step back and looked at the window. It opened outward. Leaning back out, he saw there was an open window two floors up. He’d need to get out, climb up the wall unnoticed for about twenty-five feet and then hope no one was in the room when he tumbled in.
Or he could kick the door open and make a run for it.
Stealth or strength? What would get him out and hidden fastest?
The window it was. Stephan extended his fingers and took hold of the frame. He gave it a test tug. All good. His arm was good. This was going to be fine. First step: get out of the room. He hauled his upper body out of the window, scraping his side against the clasp. Now perched on the windowsill, he had a better view of his objective and mapped out his path, seeing the holds almost laid out in front of him. He glanced down and nearly slapped himself. Or, he could climb down one level to the ground. He shook his head. Of course he’d automatically gone for the more difficult route.
Down it was. He swung his legs out, stood on the sill, and held onto the frame. His arm held. A few shuffling steps took him to the perfect place where he could step out and get his bearings.
Then it happened. His arm crumpled, causing his grip to loosen on the window frame as his hand lost feeling. He hadn’t managed to get a good enough hold on the bricks. For a moment, he hovered, his body caught between falling out of the window to the ground below and to safety.
No. He made an awkward lurch and fell inside the room, knocking his head against the sill as he went back.
Stephan lay on the floor, wind knocked out of him and his vision blurred. He rolled onto his stomach, then pulled himself to his knees to get the nausea under control. The original head injury must have been worse than he’d thought, even with his fast healing.
Up to his feet, holding the chair for balance. A check out of the window confirmed that it was in fact too far for him to jump. Even as a masquerada, it was a risk to court broken bones that would take a while to heal and make him too vulnerable.
That meant the door. He went over and peered through the security peephole. The corridor looked empty, but that didn’t mean there weren’t people hiding in the other rooms, or out of his field of vision. He turned the knob carefully.
Yep, locked.
Well, sometimes action had to be taken. He hunkered down and readied himself for a running leap at the door.
Then he paused. Juana had pushed the door inwards. There was a g
ood chance there was a steel ridge holding the door in place. He approached again and gave some gentle knocks around the doorknob, nodding with satisfaction when he heard the hollow sound of cheap construction. Two seconds he had the desk chair in his hand, ready to bring down on the doorknob. It took three slams to knock the knob out, and with it, the lock mechanism.
Then he was out in the hall. Incredibly, the commotion hadn’t called the attention of any of the guards. He needed to get to the west pavilion. He needed to find Estelle. He needed to find Tom. He needed to get them all the hell out of here.
Time to go.
Chapter 28
Estelle stared across the brightly lit room at her brother’s unmoving form. Felix lay on a cot, curled with his knees to his chest and facing the wall. To her surprise he didn’t appear to be chained or in any way restrained. This was unlike Estelle herself, whose arms had been bound behind her back with her wrists connected by what felt like several layers of zip ties. They cut into her skin when she pulled.
She had gone with Madden and the others without a fight, unsure how she’d given herself away.
Idiot. She’d blown it, made the wrong choice.
How was she going to explain this to Wavena? Cressida would never have found herself in a grey-painted cinderblock room, across from what could be her brother’s dead body.
“Felix.” She called his name again but he didn’t move. She tried to kick over the table or her chair, but both were bolted to the floor. Still…she eyed the distance, then swung herself over the table onto her side before reaching out with her leg and waving it frantically toward her brother, her arms linked to the chair. With one more mighty stretch, which felt as though she was about to rip her arms out of the sockets, she kicked him in the ass.
That was enough. Thanks to the contorted position she was now in, Estelle couldn’t see him, but heard Felix groan, then mumble. She pulled herself back to the chair and took her seat again, panting and wishing she could rub the pulled muscle in her side.
Felix flipped over onto his other side, opened his eyes and closed them. A second later they flew open again. “Estelle?”
“Yeah.”
He sat straight up. “Am I hallucinating?” he demanded.
“If you were, do you think your hallucination would say so?” She winced as she wriggled her shoulders. That kick had been more strenuous than it had any right to be.
Felix rubbed his face. “Must be awake. That’s exactly what the real Estelle would say.”
“You went missing. Maman was worried about you.”
“I’m touched. The dutiful daughter Little Miss Seneschal took time from her busy schedule to come fetch rotten old me?”
Estelle supposed she should be glad being held captive by the Dawning had not broken Felix’s spirit, but she was less enthused to see his imprisonment had not improved his personality in any positive way. This was the thank-you she got?
She did her best to not snap. He’s scared, she reminded herself. Be understanding. Pretend what you’re looking at is a little yapping Chihuahua, not a six-foot tall ninety-year-old vampire. She forced a smile that, to her surprise, became real. She had been worried. Felix was a total asshole, but the thought that he could be taken and killed by the Dawning had not been pleasant.
“Can you untie me?”
He rolled off the cot and walked behind her. She heard him swear as he yanked on the bands. “Do you have a knife?”
“No.”
“I’m going to try to slice them off.”
She tried not to wince at the drool he left on her hands. Finally, Felix swore and stood up, massaging his fangs. “I was sure that was going to work,” he mumbled.
“How did this happen?” she asked. “What were you thinking? Did they take you?”
For a moment, true regret passed over his face. “I fucked up,” he said in a low voice.
I know the feeling. “We all do.”
“It was…I wanted to be in the middle, you know? They were making change, the Dawning, and they wanted me. They had a place for me. That was my in.”
“Your in for what?”
“For getting some intel on them. I thought I’d bring it back to Wavena, impress her.”
He didn’t look at her and Estelle didn’t know what to say. She’d never seen her brother so vulnerable.
“What did you tell them?”
It was the wrong thing to say. Felix glared at her. “Nothing.”
“What did they ask?”
Now he looked puzzled. “I don’t know. They came in and talked to me, or at least Delia did. Madden did a few times as well but it was…conversation? Casual, about nothing in particular.” He shuddered. “I had bad headaches after. Dreams too.”
“Then you didn’t tell them anything?”
“I didn’t have anything to tell,” he said spitefully. “Plus if I had, and I did, there’d be no reason to keep me alive.”
A small bit of tension left her, but in the context of what she had to worry about, it barely registered. “We need to get out.”
He snorted. “Sure. Tell me when you can walk through walls.”
A hollow bang came from the door, and both LaMarches looked at each other, momentarily united against a common enemy and watched the door creak open.
Madden came in holding a gun. Estelle jabbed at his mind, but it was like hitting a wall. He looked at her with pity. “Please.”
Estelle stopped and concentrated on keeping her own mind strong.
“Better. Pearl said you were smarter than she anticipated, which is not saying much.”
No point in answering.
“Interesting how both of you came to us of your own free will. Felix with some interesting information that he decided he would rather bargain for than share.” Madden rolled his eyes. “Your brother has a rather desperate need to be seen as important.”
“Hey—”
“Shut up.” Madden didn’t even bother to look at him. “Estelle, I truly expected better of you. Seneschals are supposed to be smart.”
“What do you want from me?” she demanded.
He held his hands out. “Nothing, actually. I only wanted you out of the way. We needed Felix but taking your brother had the added benefit of luring you down here.” Madden gave her a terrible smile, his fangs at full extension. She felt hers lengthen as well, then forced herself to retract them, making the submissive gesture obvious. Better to let him think she was cowed and scared.
“Yangzei is here. I saw him. Why? What’s he planning?”
At the mention of the masquerada Ancient’s name, Madden’s smile faltered. She didn’t let on that she’d noticed. He feared Yangzei. She filed the knowledge away. He rallied quickly.
“What’s it like being the seneschal, Estelle? Knowing how unprepared you are to take that role?” Madden’s voice was as soothing as a therapist. “All that responsibility and you can’t handle it, can you?”
Her gut dropped. A huge lump came to her throat and prickly waves erupted through her skin.
“Funny you should say that since it was my sister who passed the training.” Felix had the same mocking tone that Estelle usually hated. “Not you. So who’s the failure?”
“Shut up.” Madden stepped back and grasped Felix’s arm. Her brother gasped and kicked out, but Madden was old and strong. He twisted Felix’s arm. A sickening crunch came from his elbow and her brother shrieked. Madden dropped the limb with an expression of faint interest, and turned to watch Felix as he curled on the bed, swearing and panting.
“Next time, watch your mouth. It’s not your body that’s useful to us.” Madden left.
* * * *
The commotion began when Stephan reached the tree line facing the west pavilion. It was almost dusk, and at first he assumed the noise coming from the far end of the complex was from an
epic Dawning beach party. It took only a few minutes to realize that if it was a party, they were including some fairly extreme party games.
Like War on the Beach.
He crouched in the shadow of a hibiscus shrub and monitored the pavilion lobby. Whatever the distant sounds were, they were strange enough to catch the lobby guard’s attention. A good thing, as Stephan lacked the compulsion ability or general conversational skill that would have gotten Estelle in without a problem. He glanced down. He should have stolen a guard’s outfit. Instead, he was wearing maintenance blue. Maintenance. He nearly slapped himself in the head.
It took three minutes to backtrack around the edge of the tree line to where he saw a path and then stroll confidently toward the lobby. The guard barely looked up when Stephan approached.
“Yo. Maintenance.”
The guard nodded, distracted and looked past Stephan as if checking for a posse. “Who sent you?”
“Juana.”
What sounded like a gunshot rang from the direction of the beach, and both Stephan and the guard turned to stare.
“Whoa, man. What was that?” Stephan asked. That was a Chad question.
“No entry.” The vampire glared at him until Stephan held up both palms to say we’re cool and walked away.
When he turned around, he saw the back side of the guard jogging toward the beach with a walkie-talkie held to his ear. That was easier than expected. Stephan wasted no time racing in and down to the emergency staircase on the right. He had no idea who was attacking the Dawning, and although he very naturally hoped it was his own side, it was also possible the Dawning was split into factions and he was in the middle of a civil war. While that could be positive from a strategic point of view, it was not a complication he wanted to deal with at the moment. Right now, his priority was getting to Estelle, preferably Estelle and her brother; ideally Estelle, her brother, and Tom, and getting out.
The stairs. Which way? He did a quick eenie meenie and decided to start from the bottom.
Two flights down and he was in the basement. Unlike the elegantly decorated floors upstairs, this was composed of painted cinderblock and poured concrete. The entire place was a dark grey that made him feel like he was inside of a storm cloud. Forget it. He wasn’t here to critique the decor. The stairs led to a long corridor with a steel door to the left and the bulk of the empty hall to the right. Five doors lined the hall and a quick test showed they were all locked. He paused in front of each, listening for sounds of life but heard nothing. They could be either soundproofed or empty.
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