United (The Guardians Book 2) (9 page)

“If Gable's going, I'm going,” he chimed in stubbornly.

“You're not even fully trained yet, mate,” Talon pointed out. “You haven't taken the eight week crash training course.”

Nicky shrugged. “Been busy.”

“He was a vital part of bringing down Pablo and his empire.” In a strange turn of events, Ralf spoke up for him before anyone else could. “And in only a few short weeks, his shadow guide abilities have improved immensely.” He winked at Nicky. “I've been keeping tabs on you.”

“I am super awesome,” Nicky agreed.

“I must say, his childlike eagerness, though annoying, does impress me,” said Gustavo. “If Charles agrees, then I think he should go.”

Nicky grinned smugly when Charles allowed it.

“And that makes seven.” Weejida looked thoughtful. “That will be all. More would be too many.”

“True.” Faiz tapped a finger against the dimple in his square chin. “Shall we have Hubert lead the mission.”

“No,” Ralf disagreed. “I'd like Xavier to lead. I think he's ready. If he truly wants to prove himself then this will be the perfect opportunity. Perhaps after this we could talk about a career change to Tracking?”

Zay sat up straighter and clenched his fists on the table, his expression a mixture of awe and joy. “That would be an honor.”

Charles said nothing, but he watched on in equal parts pride and worry. Gable didn't blame him – the mission was going to be dangerous as hell. It was a parent's worst nightmare.

“Gather your team of seven immediately,” Esha instructed Zay. “You leave for Hawaii in two days. An Official will meet you there to help with the. . .details.”

Drowning, she meant. An Official would be there to help them drown.

Oh man, it was becoming real all too fast.

“There's just one thing,” Zay said, looking at Faiz. “We know how to get to the island without the key, but what about once we've found the Outcasts?” His tone was strong and determined, like he had no doubt at all they'd succeed. Gable liked that about him – he'd be a good leader. “How do we get back? It doesn't work the same way, right?”

“No, you can't come back the way you came. You will need to find the one orchestrating the operation now that Pablo is not. They'll have the key, and that will be the only way to get everyone home. I only wish I could offer assistance, but faeries do not cross into each others realms under any circumstance.”

“What if Pablo's partner isn't there?”

“That's a risk you will need to take, my human friend. Are you willing?”

Zay didn't even hesitate before nodding. “Of course.”

“Good man.”

They discussed mission details for another three hours before the Elders finally declared them ready and the meeting broke up. They were offered the use of the beach house for the night, but now that things were finally moving, no one wanted to linger – not even on a gorgeous, tropical beach.

Gable's eyes were heavy, and knowing that she wouldn't have much time to sleep before they left for Zawavia, she took the opportunity to get some shut eye on the flight back to New York.

Just as she was drifting off to sleep, she heard worried mumblings from Charles. Something to do with the mission, she assumed.

Zay sighed. “You have to let me go sometime, Dad.”

“He still isn't back yet,” a worried Fortune said to Sacha as he paced, wringing his hands like a wet cloth. Lights out was in less than an hour and Gelasius had been dragged away for testing before lunch. That wasn't the longest an Outcast had been gone, but it was still too long as far as Fortune was concerned.

“Huh?” Sacha asked, distracted. By what, Fortune had no idea, because the guy was sitting on his cot, staring at nothing. But then, that was what Sacha spent most of his days doing when he wasn't sleeping. Fortune's worst fears were coming true – he was losing his best friend and he had no idea how to stop it.

“Gelasius. He's not back yet.”

Sacha finally glanced up, though his eyes were still slightly unfocused. But the fact that he'd woken up enough to pay attention was a good thing; Gelasius was Sacha's friend too. “The longer they have you in the lab, the worse the tests are and the more time it takes to recover,” Sacha told him knowingly. “He'll be fucked up when they bring him back.” And he should know – they usually kept Sacha in there the longest. Sometimes a whole night during a full moon. Sometimes even longer.

“
If
they bring him back,” Xahlia muttered darkly from her cell. Though Fortune didn't acknowledge her, her words did disturb him. There were times when Outcasts were taken away for testing and then just. . .didn't return. Like Fortune's previous cell mate before Sacha. Either the tests had gone wrong or had become too much for the Outcast to take or. . .the scientists had decided they'd be more useful as a corpse.
 

He resumed pacing and didn't stop for another forty five minutes until Gelasius finally stumbled back in, so weak he had to be half dragged by the guards. Fortune breathed a sigh of relief. There were some prisoners who tried their hardest to keep an emotional distance from others, determined to avoid any extra pain and loss, but most couldn't help but care. Down in the cells, away from the world and the people they loved and
life
, they became a strange kind of family, bonded by a torture that no one else would ever understand. And if caring about his friends made him weak, Fortune didn't give a damn. He would never stop caring.
 

The guards all but tossed Gelasius into his cell. His cell mate, Moisey, was there to catch him. He threw his arm around his shoulders and helped him lay down on his bed. Moisey was a big guy, tall and thin like a beanpole; when he'd first arrived he'd had honey colored dreadlocks right down to the middle of his back, but the scientists had wasted no time in hacking them off. He'd said it was like losing a part of his soul.

Fortune sat down on his own bed, so close to Gelasius' that he could see the dark purple rings underneath his eyes and the sickly yellow tinge to his skin. Other than that, there were no physical signs of testing. “Electrocution?”

Gelasius shook his head and held up his arms where fresh pinprick marks dotted his skin. That was nothing new – each of them had their own set of pockmarks on the inside of their elbows from being stuck with needles so many times. “They were pumping me full of juice today.”

“Do you know what?”

“No clue. They aren't exactly chatty with their test subjects.” He grabbed a hold of the bars and hoisted himself up into a sitting position with a grunt. Even that small action had him panting with exertion. Whatever they'd injected him with couldn't have been healthy.

That was one of the hardest things about their situation. Never mind the pain and the confinement and the boredom and the homesickness – not knowing what was happening with their own bodies, it was a head screw of epic proportions.

But despite his torturous day, Gelasius was
grinning
. And it was a truly genuine, happy grin, one that even reached his bloodshot eyes.
 

“You high?” Fortune asked him.

Gelasius waved a dismissive hand. “No, though that might be nice.”

“Then what's up? You look like a Disney villain on crack.”

“I overheard the guards talking, my friend. Pablo is dead.” He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled at the top of his lungs, “You hear that, people? PABLO IS DEAD!”

Silence, and then a buzz began, growing louder, spreading down the long row of cells as Outcasts all began talking at once. Those closest to Gelasius' cell pressed against the bars of their own to catch a glimpse of him, desperate to see if it was really true.

“Are you serious?” Fortune demanded earnestly. His heart galloped at what that information might mean.

“As a heart attack.” Gelasius rubbed his chest. “Which I'm actually pretty sure I came close to having today.”

“How did he die?” Xahlia knelt on her bed, pushing her face so hard against the bars that Fortune was sure her head was about to pop through. She looked obscenely excited to learn the details, but for once he couldn't blame her. A small part of him hoped that Pablo had suffered a great deal.

“Pablo's Crazy Bitch, they said.” Gelasius smirked. “Stabbed him right in the chest with his own dagger.”

“I've heard of her,” said Jaana, sitting down next to Xahlia. “The other prisoners, they talk. They say she is his right hand, his favorite. Why would she kill her own boss?”

“Because he's a murdering, kidnapping psychopath,” Moisey pointed out. He was a plant whisperer, and Fortune assumed that had something to do with talking to plants, though he wasn't all too sure. In the month that Moisey had been with them, he hadn't opened up much. That was usually how it was in the beginning.

“I thought he was immortal?” Fortune scratched his jaw, which had grown scruffy since the barber had last been in. He was confused. “How on earth did she kill an unkillable immortal?”

“I guess she found a way.” Gelasius lay back down on his bed, his hands resting behind his head. He looked extremely satisfied for a man who'd just spent half a day being poked and prodded. “I met her once, you know. Sexy as sin with an ass to die for. Never did catch a name though. Just escorted me to Pablo's office and vanished. I wonder now if she even knew what was going on.”

“You went to Pablo's office willingly?” They all glanced at Sacha; it was the first time he'd spoken since Gelasius had returned.

Gelasius shrugged. “Possibly a mistake now I look back on it,” he joked. “I was a hunter, you see. I hunted Dark Ones, big and small.”

“Were you a Guardian?”

“Hell, no. I didn't need their rules and stipulations. Pablo contacted me and asked me to come to him to talk about a job offer. I was cocky. I thought I could go in there and learn more about him, find his weaknesses and use them to destroy him. Of course, if I'd known he was just planning to kidnap me the second I stepped into his office, I might have thought twice about it.”

“He used the job offer on me too,” Fortune admitted.

“So that's why the testing stopped,” Xahlia mused. “Because he got all good and dead.”

Fortune nodded. “And why everything has been so out of sorts. Our missing meals, the reduced guards. . .”

“Perhaps they'll free us now?” Jaana suggested optimistically.

It seemed she wasn't the only one who thought so. Murmurs were rising throughout the room as Outcasts passed information from cell to cell like a game of Chinese Whispers. One word stood out, repeated over and over. . .

Freedom.

Amused cackles bounced off the walls, startling them all, loud enough to drown out the hushed voices. Merche, Fortune's least favorite prison guard (not that he actually liked
any
of them), strolled down the aisle between the two rows of cells, casually running her baton along the bars. The clanking sound echoed throughout the now silent room.
 

“Do not get your spirits up, dogs,” she called when she had everyone's attention, her French accent particularly strong – it always was when she was enjoying herself. The gleeful smile spread out across her face made Fortune sick to his stomach. “Do you honestly think Pablo was alone in this venture? He had a partner, you fools, and now they are running the show. And trust me, they care even less about you pathetic animals than Pablo did. Your tests have started again, have they not? Pablo was too soft on you, he allowed you too much. Now that he is gone, expect your lives to go downhill.”

Her words were met with a cold, stony silence. Their joy at the thought of possible freedom was extinguished immediately like the tiny flame of a birthday candle doused by a bucket of water. This, of course, thrilled Merche immensely.

She moved to lean against the bars of Sacha and Fortune's cell. Though she wore the usual navy blue jumpsuit all the guards wore, hers was tighter and fit her curved body like she was born to wear exactly that. She was an exquisite woman, though the ugliness inside outshone the beauty on the surface.

Watching Fortune from under her long, thick lashes, she ran the tip of her baton down between her breasts temptingly and back up again before tapping it softly against her plump lips. Fortune hated the stirring he felt in his pants – it had been a
long
time since he'd had a woman beneath him. Or on top of him. Or. . . Yeah, it had been a long time.
 

“You want some outside time, Fortune?” she murmured seductively. “It's been a while since you've seen daylight. I could get it for you. Why don't you come for a
walk
with me?”
 

He rolled his eyes; she only wanted him because she couldn't break him. It was all just a sick, twisted game to her. “I'll never be that desperate,” he replied. Sex with Merche would be something he could
never
wash away.
 

The seduction vanished from her eyes to be replaced by icy cruelty. She glared at him, promising revenge without saying a word. Whether it would be an extra excruciating round of testing or missed meals or something even worse, he didn't care. Or at least, he wouldn't show her that he did. Merche would never break him.

After she'd slunk back to her post at the end of the hall next to the leech, Fortune glanced over at Sacha, who was holding a tattered old book in his hands, staring at the worn away cover though he probably wasn't even seeing it. He supposed that if Merche was right, things like books and chalks would soon be taken away. As for Sacha, he didn't seem to have even noticed the exchange that had just taken place right in front of him.

“I don't care what that bitch says,” Gelasius declared on his other side. “This
means
something. Pablo's death means something for us. It has to.”
 

The Outcasts in the cells nearest to them nodded in agreement. Merche might have brought them down but it wasn't the end. One thing remained that even she couldn't destroy – hope.