Release (The Protector Book 3) (35 page)

“Chase, no!” Willy said. “You can’t…”

“He can hardly move.”

“But you could be in far worse condition if you try to heal him,” Garrett warned.

I looked at the deep slashes in Grayson’s back and sighed. “The only reason he has these wounds is because of me.”

“No,” Vincent said. “The only reason he has those marks is because of that bumbling fool Alaric. If he hadn’t imprisoned us, none of this would’ve happened. I say we find a way out of here and rip his throat out.” Vincent growled and his transparent skin flashed momentarily.

“Look, I’m doing this, one way or another. If I’m still alive when it’s done, we’ll go from there.”

I moved closer to Grayson, but he cowered away. “No, if the guards find out you’ve used foreign magic on me they’ll do far worse than this.”

“And what’s worse? Death? A moment ago you wished that’s what they had given you.”

Grayson fought a silent battle in his eyes and after a moment’s thought, he nodded and rolled back onto his stomach.

I tried to arrange my hands so that they weren’t touching any wounds, but it was nearly impossible. Purple blood coated the tips of my fingers as I called my magic upwards.

The water curled inside me, sending cool tingles rolling beneath my skin. It felt nice at first, a welcome relief to the pain my elements had caused. As I pushed the element into my arms however, the pain returned.

The water changed from a refreshing wash to a burning rush. Boiling water scorched my veins. I focused on his back and making the skin close over the wounds. In my mind, orange covered his back in a seamless stretch, and waves of water crashed over it, washing away the blood.

My arms seared as though I’d reached into a pot of bubbling water. I cringed and the magic faded, but I pulled it back up and slammed it into Grayson. It moved around me and through my body, as though it had swallowed me whole. My skin burned and the heat of the water coiled, but I didn’t break my focus. I gritted my teeth, biting back my screams and I pushed harder, washing his wounds away in my mind until my body gave out.

I fell back against the bars and white dots flashed in my vision. They sparkled and swirled as the pain throbbed over my arms. I tried to lift my head, but it was too heavy. The thought of moving anything was draining and I succumbed to the exhaustion.

******

My eyelids lifted and everything was hazy. My arms were hot as though I’d been in the sun for far too long. The thought of touching them made me ache, and a splitting headache tore through my mind.

“Oh god,” I whispered, grabbing my head with both hands and pulling at my hair. The blood blister that covered most of my right leg was gone, but my arms were glowing red with small sores that had split around the skin.

I rubbed my eyes, trying to gain my focus, and when my hands came down, giant gray orbs stared back at me. I tried to jump back but the wood bars behind wouldn’t allow it.

“He’s awake!” Grayson shouted.

“Joy to the world,” Vincent said in the dullest voice imaginable.

“You’re okay…” I said, more to myself than anyone else.

“Oh, I’m more than okay,” he said. “I haven’t felt this good in years.” His blue lips curled into a smile, showing jagged yellow teeth.

“Good,” I said quietly.

Grayson handed me a small wooden bowl with water in it. “Here, I saved this for you.”

“Thanks.” I took a sip and the water soothed my throat. “I’m glad you’re doing well.”

“And don’t think this favor will go unrewarded.”

“Unrewarded? Are you going to let me sleep on your side of the cage tonight? How thoughtful.”

Grayson looked at his side of the cage and then mine, his elongated forehead creasing. “I don’t understand. They are the same…”

“Forget it...”

Grayson nodded, looking around the cage. He spoke in a whisper so low I could barely hear him. “I’m getting you out of here tonight.”

“Getting?” Vincent shouted. “You mean we’ve been sitting in here all this time and you know a way out?”

“Shhhh!” Grayson put his finger to his lips.

A guard burst through and glared at all of us. “What in Athaniel’s name is going on in here?”

Grayson dropped to the ground, rolling on his back and moaning.

“Nothing,” I said, “just trying to talk over this.” I pointed to Grayson.

The guard eyed me and then Grayson. “Well, keep it down. I’m trying to enjoy the forest’s music,” he said, slamming the door.

Everyone sat quietly and I felt eyes burning through me. Veronica sat quietly in her cage with a smirk across her face. Her head canted to the side and her eyes were locked with mine. I felt a strange familiarity as she stared back at me and her energy touched my mind.

“What?” I snapped, breaking the eye contact and shaking away the feeling.

Veronica didn’t respond. Her blue eyes stared at me with a strange adoration I didn’t understand.

“What’s the matter with you?” Vincent turned to her.

She shook her head and looked confused. “What? Nothing. How the hell are we getting out of here? I’m hungry,” she said, shifting her position.

Grayson had stopped whimpering and looked at Veronica. “I don’t know that it will work, but I have an idea.”

“Why didn’t you mention this yesterday?” Vincent snapped.

“I didn’t think about it until just before they brought dinner. Besides, I could barely sit without excruciating pain. Devising an escape plan for you wasn’t exactly at the forefront of my thoughts.”

“It’s not important,” I said, glaring at Vincent. “What’s the plan?”

******

While we waited for nightfall, I shared my story with Grayson. I explained how I’d met Marcus and Rayna and everyone else, as well as what my father had planned. I told him about my abilities as a hunter, and how it hadn’t started hurting me until recently. It wasn’t until I mentioned our reason for being here that Grayson reacted with more than a nod.

“The Claw of Virtue?” he said in a quiet voice. “Why the Claw?”

I shrugged. “We need one soul piece to destroy another. This was the one Athaniel told us to get. It was all we had to go on.”

Grayson smiled. “And he and Serephina had a battle? That is how I picture Athaniel. Always breaking the rules.”

“Is that what your god represents?”

“No…but when I envision his four arms wielding those blades, I imagine him doing things his way, and his way only.” Grayson smiled.

The door creaked open and two guards carrying trays of food entered. I could see the dark blue sky outside, lit up with streaks of orange moonlight. The rush of fresh air that moved in behind the guards was refreshing, swapping out the stale air that had haunted us for hours.

The first guard set down the two trays he carried and fiddled with the keys, searching for the desired one. “Sit down and face the wall,” he grumbled.

We all turned in our cages, sitting on the floor and facing the wall. Grayson’s oversized eyes glanced to me; he still hadn’t retied his ponytail and streaks of thick red hair hung against his orange skin.

The lock clicked loose as the key turned, and I turned my head, watching him struggle to pull the key back out of the lock.

“Hey,” the guard said. “What happened to Grayson? He’s healed!”

“What?” The other guard’s footsteps grew louder as he neared our cage.

I didn’t wait a moment longer. I jumped to my feet and kicked the door back as hard as I could. The wooden bars slammed against the guard’s face and I bounded through the opening, moving for the other guard.

His large eyes opened wide, unprepared for the unfolding events, and a tray of food fell from his hand. I planted my foot into his chest and he stumbled into the cage behind him.

Vincent’s arms reached through the bars and wrapped around the guard’s neck. His milky skin faded and clear muscles moved in his jaw. Long fangs dropped from his gums and he wrestled with the guard, pulling his arm back through the cage.

Dark purple flushed his cheeks in a panic as he tried to pry himself away. Veronica lunged forward and sank her fangs into his wrist.

The guard gasped and his gray eyes turned a chalky white, rolling back in his head before his body went limp. Vincent let him go and the guard collapsed to the floor. Pulling the guard’s other arm through the bars, Vincent sank his fangs into it, a slurping sound sucking between his lips.

The other guard tried to stand and my foot connected with his ribs, sending him back to the ground. Before he could call for help, I planted my foot in the front of his throat with full force and he gagged. I pulled the small blade from the sheath on his hip and smashed the handle against the back of his head—his body went still.

“No! Don’t kill him,” Grayson said, rushing rushed out of the cage and trying to pull the guard from Vincent’s cage. Purple blood ran down his wrists as the vampires attempted to suck him dry.

“Enough!” I glared at Vincent.

Vincent pulled his fangs from the guard’s skin and roared, but when I moved toward the cage, his fangs receded and the color returned to his skin. He pried Veronica off the other arm and she whined as purple blood dribbled down her chin. “But he tastes so good.”

“That he does,” Vincent said. “But that’s enough for now.” His yellow eyes beamed at me, and I shook my head.

“Grab the keys,” I said, directing Grayson. He scooped them up off the floor and unlocked the other cages.

We disarmed both guards, which gave only a few of us weapons. Garrett, Karissa, and Willy dropped the white robes they’d been covered in and shifted into their animal counterparts. The shifters led the way, creeping out into the faint orange eve.

Plants and luminescent flowers folded beneath our feet. The shifters disappeared into the shadows and Grayson led us away from the well-traveled path and into the woods.

Voices chanted around a huge bonfire and Alaric stood in front of the flames, speaking in a tongue I didn’t recognize. Wisps of white light swirled around him like balls of energy magnetized to his body. He turned to each one, speaking in the same foreign language and nodding as the orbs moved in front of him. Dunopai stood in the background, watching and waiting for Alaric to translate his discoveries.

Grayson took us away from the fire and towards a small group of tents. “The Golden Torrent is in there.” He pointed towards the largest tent.

I clung to the shadows as best I could and kept an eye on the distant fire. I could still hear Alaric praying to the flames, so I slipped inside.

A huge area at the end of the tent was raised up with layers upon layers of fur-like rugs, making up the bed. A metal jug and two chalices sat beside it, and a massive dish of water sat on a pedestal beside a pit of glowing red coals.

The luminescent flowers from the surrounding forest were aglow and hanging on strings around the bed. A small wooden cage was raised up from the floor on a small podium, and inside was Rai, who chirped wildly when she saw me.

I tried to shush her but she wouldn’t quiet herself. Slipping the tip of the blade I’d stolen inside the lock, I pried it open. Rai fluttered and shook the cage before I could open the door, and the cage crashed to the floor. She hopped out and jumped into the air. Her wings flapped rapidly and she disappeared out of the tent in an angry flutter.

“Rai!” I called in a forceful whisper.

I ran after her but lost her in the night sky. “Rai!” I whispered again, but she never returned.

I shook my head and moved back inside the tent. My eyes panned the room until they came to rest on a small metal trunk. I smashed the lock open with a blade handle and lifted it open.

Weapons, jewels, and robes filled the inside and I tore it all out, throwing it on the floor. I sifted through everything but my daggers weren’t there. I cursed under my breath. I couldn’t leave without them.

When I stepped out of the tent, Alaric’s gaze stared back at me. Rai was chirping wildly on his shoulder, a small silver chain wrapped around her legs with the other end in Alaric’s grip.

“We welcome you as our guests and this is how you repay us? Pillaging my tent, nearly killing my people, and attempting to steal a creature that is rightfully ours?” Alaric’s oversized eyes were fierce and his nearly nonexistent eyebrows arched, wrinkling his forehead.

“Guests?” I laughed. “We came to you for help. Athaniel thought you would welcome us, and you locked us in cages. You torture your own people, you steal from your so-called “guests,” and you’re surprised by our reaction? We’re leaving, so why don’t you help things along and tell me where my daggers are.”

Alaric studied my face and a crowd of Donopai gathered behind him. “These finely crafted things?” He reached inside his swollen robes and came back with one of the daggers my mother had given me. “I have claimed these for my own,” he said. “Now tell me, where is that terrible excuse for a Warrior? Since you are our guests, I cannot very well punish you just yet. The spirits will not allow it. However, I will take your sins out on his body and show him what we do with traitors.”

“Your views are so far beyond skewed it’s disturbing. I’m going to make this as easy as possible for you. Give me my daggers and my Torrent back, and we’ll leave. There’s no need for anyone else to get hurt. You’re not willing to help stop Ithreal’s resurrection, fine, but I can’t stop fighting.”