United (The Guardians Book 2) (28 page)

Fortune glanced down at his fireball, suddenly so very grateful for his oddities. Perhaps it was
because
he was a fire elemental born to a family entirely of humans that he was so able to control himself when others of his kind struggled. It was a relief right then, because a fire elemental without control could be an incredibly dangerous thing. Even so, the fireball was flickering, and flames had started to drip down his arms like beads of sweat, collecting on his fingertips and dripping to the floor before extinguishing. The standard gray t-shirt they all wore was singing right off his body.

He closed his fist and snuffed out the fireball before it could do any damage to his friends.

“You okay?” he asked Eadgar and Gelasius.

“Fine,” Eager reassured him. “I can feel the place stirring me up inside, but I can hold it in. For now, at least.”

“Me too,” Gelasius added. “Oh, but there's a. . .” He blinked, his dark eyes turning gray as his shadow guide abilities activated. “There's another shadow guide here. I can feel their light – it's so strong. Any shadows will go the other guide because I'm so weak right now.”

The stairwell began to tremble, and a crack appeared in the wall next to Fortune.

“An earthquake,” Sacha said in surprise, like he'd been completely oblivious to the one that had ripped apart their prison earlier.

“
Another
earthquake,” Gelasius grunted. “Which started as soon as we got our abilities back. Do you think-”

“That they're being caused by an Outcast?” Eadgar finished. “Could be.”

“An earth elemental?” Fortune guessed. He'd never come across one before, but he was pretty sure controlling the earth was in their skill set. “Another shadow guide and now an earth elemental. . .”

Gelasius grinned, though the action caused him to wince in pain. Fortune didn't blame him – there were more bruises on his face than actual face. “There really are people here to rescue us.”

“Gable,” Sacha whispered, more to himself than anyone else. The thought seemed to give him a small boost of strength because he managed to drag himself up off the floor by gripping onto the brick wall. Now that Fortune was dripping fire, he couldn't exactly lean on him for strength.

Looking at Fortune disbelievingly, Gelasius opened his mouth to say something about Sacha's assumptions, but Fortune shook his head to stop him. Now was definitely not the time to shatter his illusions.

“We need to leave. Fast,” Eadgar demanded as the building gave another shake above them.

Something crashed loudly behind them and they all span around to check it out before thinking better of it – they didn't have to see to know that even more of the cells had caved in. They needed to leave immediately.

As they scrambled up the stairwell, Fortune spared one last sad look back at Xahlia's body, before he turned and left her behind.

They broke free of the stairwell only to enter into a war zone. Outcasts were fighting guards, guards were terrorizing Outcasts. Bodies of both parties littered the ground. . . A horrifying amount of bodies. Blood lined the walls, screams filled the air, power erupted as the Outcasts finally got their abilities back.

“They're blocking the door,” Fortune yelled over the noise, gesturing to the fighters.

“There's another way out,” Gelasius replied. “Through the labs, remember?”

He was right – there was another exit the Outcasts had been made to use when they'd been granted their outside time.

“But that leads into the pen,” Eadgar argued. “I don't plan on gaining my freedom only to be surrounded by an electric fence.”

Fortune summoned the fireball back to his hand, feeling smug. “So I'll burn the bugger down.”

Eadgar grinned toothily.

They skirted around the fighting as best they could, not at all eager to join in. Not that Fortune didn't want to kick some evil guard arse, but with Gelasius and Sacha so weak, they couldn't risk it. Still, he had to send out a fireball or two at a couple of vicious guards when they got too close, and Eadgar didn't hesitate to use his stolen gun.

Finally they made it to the lab, pausing in the entrance to survey the damage. Even without the giant, gaping hole in the floor leading back down to the cells, the place was a mess. The Outcasts before them had clearly done a number or it. Computers had been smashed, lab equipment thrown clear across the room, the tables they'd once been strapped to ripped apart. There was certainly nothing salvageable, which pleased Fortune in a delightedly dark way. No Outcast would ever have to endure such torment in there again.

Following the others, he edged around the hole as carefully as he could with the earthquake still raging dangerously and stepped over the bodies of scientists. Some were still alive and groaning from their injuries, but more were dead. Most had been killed immediately by the looks of them, though one creatively minded Outcast had strapped one of the scientists to the electrocution machine and left him there to die. His body still jerked with the currents. With a flick of a switch, Fortune turned the machine off, but it was too late. The scientist was dead.

BOOM!

He jumped, having no idea where the noise had come from in the building, but it didn't sound promising. The whole place was really coming apart now. It wouldn't be long before it fell down completely.

Fortune paused as he heard a small whimper from under one of the only remaining lab tables. He ducked down, worried that it was an injured prisoner in need of aid.

A woman in a white lab coat stained with her own blood reached out a desperate hand to him. “Help me,” she begged.

He recognized the young woman – she couldn't have been much older than twenty five or six. She'd never actively taken part in any of the experiments, but he remembered her watching, observing, taking notes. A researcher, perhaps, though it wasn't like they'd ever conversed. What he remembered about her more than anything was her eyes; those soft, brown eyes. They'd been so bright as she'd watched him writhe in pain. She'd
relished
it, enjoyed it with borderline
glee
.

“Please,” she cried, those beautiful, spiteful eyes overflowing with tears.

Fortune stilled, cocking his head to one side as he regarded her. His head was telling him to get up and walk away, but his heart was telling him that he would probably regret it. His damned, stupid heart.

“Fortune!” Gelasius called angrily when he realized that he wasn't still behind them. “Leave her!”

Ignoring him, he crawled forward, trying to figure out how he was going to pull her up when he was still on fire. But just before he could reach her a part of the roof right above them groaned deeply and caved. Bricks and rubble and even a damned desk chair fell down, right over where the woman had been hiding. Fortune threw himself back, unwilling to die for her. Other Outcasts, definitely. Most other humans, sure. One of the people who had locked him away and tortured him, hell no.

Another life lost. She was buried beneath so much debris it would have been impossible for her to live through it. Even so, Fortune hesitated.

“She's dead!” Eadgar yelled impatiently, sensing that Fortune was genuinely considering digging through the mess just to make sure. “Get your ass over here now before we die here too, Fortune!”

He nodded in response. Would he lose sleep over this evil woman's demise? Probably not.

Pushing himself up, he ran to join the others as they moved for the exit. He could just spot the door around a pile of smashed equipment – it was already open, so clearly they hadn't been the first to come up with this idea.

“Almost there, buddy,” Fortune panted to Sacha, whose eyes were bright and totally alert for the first time.

They'd almost made it, and then the building finally gave in and collapsed around them.

A sulky Gable huffed as she stomped out of Pablo's office. She wanted to slam the door behind her, but she still wasn't sure the guy wouldn't have her offed the first chance he got. It was just so frustrating! She'd been working for him for
weeks
and all he had her doing was picking up laundry and fetching his lunch. How in the hell was she ever
going to get a lead on Sacha if Pablo never gave her any real jobs?

“You okay?” asked a quiet voice beside her.

She span, having almost forgotten that Chase would be there by his little desk right outside Pablo's office. As Pablo's assistant,
this
was the guy who should be doing all the craptastic jobs, not her, though Chase was about one of the only people in the whole place that Gable actually liked. He was just so
sweet
and
charming
with his soft English accent and those big brown eyes, always opened wide like he was a lost baby deer.

“I'm fine,” she grunted in reply.

He spotted the ticket in her hand and nodded knowingly. “Ah, laundry again?”

Frowning, Gable perched herself on the edge of his desk, absentmindedly running the pads of her fingers over the material of her black jeans. They were so freaking soft – nothing at all like the scratchy, uncomfortable second hand crap she'd been wearing before Pablo had gotten a hold of her and changed her life.

Her shoulders sagged. Now she just felt bad. Pablo had done so much for her in such a short space of time and all she could do was complain because he had her doing a few little menial jobs? She was so damn ungrateful.

“It's a test,” Chase told her in a low voice, staring at her like he was willing her to
get
it. His eyes flickered to Pablo's door, obviously not wanting to be overheard, before landing back on her again.

“Running around like his little bitch is a test?”

His voice grew even more hushed. “Exactly. He likes to test the people who work for him – only the important ones though. He wants to make sure you're willing to do whatever he asks with no questions, no complaints. Just trust me – keep doing as you're told and you'll soon move on to bigger and better things.”

Gable eyed him for a moment, her head cocked to one side. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I like you,” he replied easily, shrugging. “I want things to work out for you here.”

She sighed, slipping the laundry ticket into her pocket. “How'd you get so smart?”

He tapped his head with a long, pale finger. “Always thinking ahead, that's how. Got to be prepared for anything.”

With a grin, she reached over to ruffle his dark hair playfully and hopped up. “I'd better get going. Later, English.”

“Movie tonight?” he asked casually, going back to the work on his desk.

He was only asking because he felt sorry for her – she'd been kind of lonely, and he wanted to take her mind off of everything going on with Sacha and her new job – but she appreciated it all the same.

“Sure, but only if it's a horror.”

Grimacing, he glanced back up at her accusingly. “You only want to watch a horror because you know I hate it. Has anyone ever told you that you like blood and gore far too much? You know, you really should try-”

Gable paled, her gun arm dropping lifelessly to her side. “Chase,” she gasped. Without thinking, she flicked the safety on her gun and shoved it in the back pocket of her pants, rushing forward to pull her old friend into her arms. She barely even registered the broken door swinging closed behind her. “I thought you were dead, Chase! I thought those bastards had killed you for sure. You have no idea how relieved I am- Did Zebb and Uang kidnap you? Why did they bring you
here
?” Pulling back, she gripped his elbows, shaking her head to clear it. “You know what, we can talk about all that later. I'm just so glad you're alive! But we have to get out of here right now. Turns out Pablo had this partner who's running things now, I guess. . . Hey, do you know who it is? Are they here? Do I know them?”
 

It wasn't until she'd stopped babbling like an uncontrollable idiot that Gable's mind began to catch up with her surroundings, and she realized something then – Chase didn't exactly
look
like a kidnap victim. He wasn't roughed up and beaten or bleeding; he didn't even look afraid. In fact, his suit was sharper than anything she'd ever seen him in, and was that a
Rolex
? That sweet, boyish face she remembered so well was. . .different. Harder, colder, more calculating.
 

He smiled at her, cocking his head to one side in. . .what was that,
pity
?
 

Suddenly it hit her with the force of a speeding truck.

She was such an unbelievable
idiot
!
 

“You're the partner,” she accused, releasing him like he was on fire and taking a step back. Her stomach churned, and she only just managed to stop herself from throwing up all over the fancy red carpet.

“Of course I am,” he replied, his voice ridiculously friendly considering he was yet another person she had trusted who had betrayed her
epically
.
 

With quick movements she snapped her gun back out, but Chase showed no fear. In fact, he
rolled his eyes
at her, like he knew she wouldn't shoot him.
 

But God, she was tempted.

“WHY?” she yelled desperately,
needing
answers. Chase was in charge of this place? It was just something she could barely even comprehend. “
How
? You were just his assistant. I don't even. . . God, Chase!”
 

He shrugged, like all of this meant
nothing
, and went back to sorting through his file cabinets. He flipped through the files, pulling out only one or two and placing them inside the box. They must have been research files for the whole damned operation. What was he planning to do with them? Take them and start the whole thing somewhere new?
 

“I did start off as just his assistant,” he told Gable cheerfully. “Long before you came along. Before I worked for Pablo, I was nobody. Just an idiot from bloody London, trying to climb the ladder in a big new country. Even with my excellent academic records and all of my qualifications, I struggled to find a job. Pablo gave me a chance when no one else would, just like he did with you.”