Page 38 of Beyond the Veil (Endangered Fae #4)

“Good thing,” Theo said as he cradled Finn’s head and forequarters gently to drag him out of the bunker.

“How would I tell your husband if I got you killed?” He arranged Finn in the shadow outside the bunker, slipped off his jacket and placed it under Finn’s head as a pillow. “Back in a second. Stay there.”

Which was a stupid thing to say to someone who was unconscious, but he felt like he had to say something.

The guards might have had time to send a distress call.

There might be reinforcements on the way and if there was any way to determine how far off they were, Theo would feel more confident about their chances.

He settled his shoulder holster more comfortably, the gun a familiar weight against his side now, and strode back through the bent and mangled doorway.

A man popped up behind the last desk at the back of the room, screamed out something in Arabic and shot Theo in the chest. The force of the blow knocked Theo back outside onto the concrete beside the helipad.

White-hot searing pain let him know it was a silver tipped bullet.

Stupid. Got too cocky. Didn’t even bother to listen for other heartbeats. He lay on his back in a storm swell of agony, staring up at the cold, uncaring stars, and realized he wasn’t going to be able to get back to Limpet. Odd how that hurt more than the bullet through his heart.

Almost, almost… Diego’s arms ached from holding them at such an awkward angle over his head.

His head throbbed from trying to direct the constricted, intermittent streams of magic.

Every one of the humans in his extended coven circle was necessary to produce even this tiny amount.

One less, if anyone faltered, and they might not get out after all.

He wasn’t sure if it was his own magic resonances or Saeed’s, or a combination of both that allowed them all to work in tandem, but he didn’t care right then.

Finally, the clang of a bolt releasing rang hollow through the port door above him. He nearly sobbed in relief and let his arms down for a moment, rubbing at them to try to coax them into one more effort.

“Diego?” Ethan whispered at the bottom rung of the ladder.

“Just a moment. It’s unlocked. I heard it. There’s a wheel to turn, though.”

Gritting his teeth, Diego lifted his arms and found the wheel again with both hands. To the left. Everything loosens to the left. Tired muscles straining, he pulled against the wheel, pleased when it started to move—then it stuck.

Tarek called up, “Diego, what’s happening?”

“It’s stuck. I’m trying to turn it… carajo . It won’t budge.”

“Are you sure it’s unlocked?”

“It’s unlocked! It started to turn.” Frustration made his voice shake. “Ethan, you’re younger. Come up and try.”

Careful of the heads below him, Diego felt his way back down the ladder. Ethan had kept hold of him and was able to make his way around and up without incident. Grunts and groans came from above as Ethan evidently tried his best without success as well.

After a few minutes, Ethan called down, panting, “Josh! You’re small enough to fit up here with me. Get your bony butt up here and help me.”

Gavin handed Josh up the line and Diego guided him to the ladder. If they had a light, any light, this might have been easier, but the dark pressed in on them without mercy. The grunts from above soon started again, but no screech or squeak of the stubborn wheel giving any ground.

Someone toward the back began to wail, babbling something that made Tarek snap at whoever it was. Soft mutters followed, the growing tension just shy of turning ugly.

“Damn it!” Ethan bit out. “It won’t fucking move!”

A panicked surge toward the ladder knocked Diego over. “Tarek! Tell them to stop! It won’t do any good to trample each other!”

He crouched on the floor, unable to hear Tarek any longer over the frightened babble. Someone stomped on his leg and he curled up tighter, hoping the prisoners would calm once they realized the way out was still blocked rather than turn on each other.

Yes, and the last time we checked pigs still didn’t have wings, did they?

“Out of the way!” a gravel-in-a-cement-mixer voice bellowed from behind the crowd. “Move, you jackasses!”

Despite the tightly packed corridor, the voice drew nearer.

“Jesus H. Christ on fucking burnt toast! Move! Diego! Are you in this clusterfuck?”

“Asif! Yes! I’m here by the ladder. The door is stuck and they panicked.”

“Idiots. Clear the way! I’ll get the damn door!”

Tarek was shouting now, too, and whatever he said caused enough people to scramble back out of Asif’s way.

“It’s at the top of the ladder?” Asif asked, closer to Diego’s spot on the floor.

“Yes. It’s like a submarine portal, Finn said. There’s a wheel to turn, probably to the left. But none of us are strong enough.”

“That’s what you get for being fragile full-blood humans.”

The ladder creaked, presumably under Asif’s weight. His deeper, bass grunts came from above, but with a critical difference. Metallic squealing accompanied his efforts.

After a moment the noise stopped. “All of you morons down there better not rush me when this opens, or you get a fist in the face.”

“Tarek, please ask everyone to return to their places in the circle. We’ll go up in an orderly fashion and everyone will get out.”

There were still some angry murmurs as Tarek translated, but the press of bodies receded and Diego was able to regain his feet.

“I think everything’s back under control down here, Asif. Can you open it?”

“The fuck kind of question’s that? I got this. You handle your angry mob.”

The metallic squealing resumed and with a final grunt and pained exhalation, Asif heaved the portal up. It fell on its back with a clang, moonlight suddenly washing him in silver and spilling down the ladder rungs.

Diego was about to start moving people up the ladder when a scuffle from behind the crowd stopped him. He tried to peer back toward the prison, but the moonlight didn’t reach far enough. There seemed to be shoving and someone shouting. Then Nusair yelled back.

“Nusair! Are you all right?”

Instead of Nusair answering, there was a chilling hiss and a scream. The subsequent heavy silence was finally broken by Nusair swearing softly.

“Nusair? What’s happening back there?”

“Gamila didn’t mean it! It wasn’t her fault!”

Diego’s tired brain tried to connect that sentence with anything logical. “Gamila? Your…pet? What happened?”

“He panicked. Shoved the ghoul out of the way. Tried to shove me. He said he had to get out first. That you would leave and shut the door behind you. The werewolf.” Nusair’s voice wavered, either in shock or in profound distress.

“He knocked into Gamila and yanked my shirt off her eyes. He scared her.”

Traveling back through the corridor by feel, from one person’s shoulder to the next, Diego made his way back to the first door where Nusair still stood.

“It’s not her fault,” Nusair repeated softly.

“Where is he? The werewolf?” Diego patted the djinn’s arm, trying to indicate he wasn’t angry.

“To your right.”

Dreading what he would find, Diego reached a shaking hand out and connected with stone.

It wasn’t the smooth stone of the prison walls or even the rougher blocks of the monster cells, but something far more complex.

The ledge his hand rested on curved up into a smooth column, then to planes and ridges… a face. Dios, no.

“He’s stone,” Diego whispered.

“She didn’t mean it. There was just enough light and he scared her,” Nusair hissed close to his ear.

Diego shook his head. “Stop, Nusair. We’re not leaving her behind. Is this…fixable?”

Nusair didn’t answer, though Diego could hear his accelerated breathing.

“Asif!” Diego called desperately.

Grumbling and muttered cursing indicated Asif’s passage through to the back. “What’s all this?”

“Thank you for getting the door open. I’m so glad you decided to come with us.”

“But you need something else.”

“Yes. I’m sorry. But we have someone who’s been turned to stone. Do you think you could carry him out?”

A grinding noise and a grunt answered him. Then Asif growled, “I’ve got him. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“ Allons-y ,” Nusair said, his voice finally steadier.

“What?” Asif growled.

“Never mind. Lead the way, little sorcerer.”

Theo drifted in and out of the starlight, not certain why he wasn’t dead yet. Something in his vampire constitution kept fighting, so Kevin had been wrong. He could take a shot to the heart and not be quite as dead as anyone else, or at least not as dead quite as fast.

I’m not sure that made sense.

In one of his drifts back to the points of light above him, Limpet leaned over him. That was a nice last hallucination to have.

“Theo? Theo, you promised not to get shot,” Limpet said in a broken whisper.

“Don’t…think I did,” Theo croaked, pleased he could still speak.

Limpet had an arm under him, cradling him against his delicious-smelling chest. Theo nuzzled at his shirt, happy that he wasn’t dying alone, but at this angle, he could see into the bunker again. The final guard, the one he’d missed, was on the radio. Yelling into the radio, actually.

“ Cabrón . That one…shot me. Last one.” Theo grabbed Limpet’s arm. “Need…make things…safe.”

Limpet stared down at him with a worried frown. “The prisoners will be out soon. The moon’s up. It’s not safe, not at all.” He seemed to think for a moment. “Oh! You need me to make it safe for them. I need to take care of this last one.”

Theo patted his arm and nodded. He gulped a breath. “My gun.”

“I don’t know what to do with your strange musket, Theo. I don’t even know how to shoot a regular one with gunpowder.”

“Club.”

Again, the realization came quickly. Theo thanked the universe that Limpet was so clever.

“Ah. Not to shoot, but as a club. I’m not certain I can do this. I’ve never hit anyone to do them harm like this. It’s not as if he’s something to eat. I suppose I could pretend he was a large fish or some—”