Page 32

Louhi

I certainly don’t recall falling asleep, but when I wake, it’s with a lurch. The usual heavy metal music isn’t screaming through the speakers; instead, the high-pitched wail of a siren blares, vibrating the concrete around me.

Sean. Where is he? If this were his hairbrained, wild attempt at busting me out, he’d come for me, right?

Bolting upright, I rub at my eyes with the base of my palms, aiming to eliminate the thrum of a headache that pulses at the base of my skull. Getting to my feet, I move to the barred door and try to peer through the metal rods, but when I grip them, the gate shifts.

Thoughts swirl like a cyclone in the pool of my mind, threatening to drown me. Shoving past my concerns about Sean and the full reason behind the siren’s howl, I focus on myself. I can worry about the rest later—Sean included.

I need to get out of here. Now.

I don’t know what witches are casting spells in my favor, but may the fucking gods and goddesses bless them. They deserve to hit every green traffic signal for the rest of their lives and find heaps of money on the ground each time they step outside.

Forever an opportunist, I tug on the bars a bit, and without much effort, the hinges swing toward me. Through a lull in the shrieking siren, I catch the distinct sound of metal grating against metal, alerting me that I’m not the only one taking advantage of this situation. Nonetheless, a little company won’t stop me from capitalizing on this moment.

Cautiously, I slip from between the concrete and the door to my cage and step out into the corridor for the last time—they’ll have to kill me before I’m ever locked behind those iron bars again. Never again.

I glance at the camera that I’m unsure is operational now that hell seems to have broken loose—literally—and I blow a kiss at the shiny round spyglass, just in case.

Exhilaration spirals through me, and I’m practically bouncing on my toes as I make way toward the mouth of freedom. Liberation feels so close that I can almost reach out and touch it with my fingertips, longing to seize fresh air, free will, and the taste of my favorite foods. I’ll do anything necessary to ensure that escape is clenched tightly in my grasp.

I’ve taken a handful of steps down the poorly lit hallway, when the door to the cell at the end creaks. My spine straightens, body coiling to strike. I’ve always chosen war in a fight-or-flight response, and this will be no different, no matter who emerges. That cell has only ever been vacant when I’ve passed it, mistakenly assuming no one was housed there.

My mouth falls open before spreading into a grin when I see none other than Kazi Akintola step from the cell.

Last time I saw Kazi, he had long black hair that reached his shoulder blades, shaved on one side. Now, he’s as bald as a Sphynx cat. That makes my blood heat for him, not because Kazi and I are necessarily mates, but because he had perfect, enviable hair that dared you to comb your fingers through it. If I liked his hair, I could only imagine how much he loved it.

Fuck this place and absolutely fuck Sean if he’s the one responsible.

His neck is still thick and beefy, but his bulky, behemoth build is slimmer than I remember. He’s a massive man at six-foot-seven, maybe taller, but he hasn’t been able to keep up his muscle mass. I’m sure the size of the cell impacted that quite a bit, making me grateful for my smaller stature.

Reminding me so much of a bear, Kazi’s never been afraid of a fight, using his size and brute strength as a weapon. You’d have to be a poor sod to end up in a hand-to-hand scrap with him. He doesn’t lose. Though, Kazi’s weight loss will put him at a disadvantage when trying to escape now, and the snake living within me bares her fangs. Viktor is going to be bloody pissed when he sees Kazi.

Though I’m relieved to see him, I’m not the least bit surprised to learn he ended up in a place like this. His morality isn’t a shade of grey, its pitch fucking black. While I won’t pretend to be good or moral, at least kids and animals are a hard limit for me, even if they’re my only limit. I’m not sure Kazi could say the same.

With a genuine smile on my face, I call out, “Kaz!”

He whips in my direction, a scowl on his face and a growl vibrating in his throat at my use of his nickname, but I continue speaking as I saunter toward him casually. “What the bloody fuck are you doing here? I thought you were dead.”

Resisting the urge to chuck my arms around his shoulders in an embrace, I stop a few paces from him. I can’t imagine Kazi being the hugging type, but fuck is it nice to see a somewhat familiar face. The gaze he pins me with is distant and icy, and I suppress the shiver of glacial coldness I’m hit with. His dark eyes narrow on me as he takes me in fully and his lip curls slightly at whatever he sees. While he’s one terrifying motherfucker, he doesn’t frighten me.

“I’m sure you aren’t the only one. How’d you get here?” he asks, the lilt of his accent thick. The timbre of his voice is more abrasive, hoarser than I recall it being, and I wonder what the fuck they did to him.

“Favor to Mercer,” I reply succinctly, not wanting to show too much of my hand. He’d understand my sense of loyalty, considering he shares a similar connection with Viktor, but my trust only goes so far, so I shift the subject. “We should get out of here.”

Just then, two guards round the corner, coming to a screeching halt when they find us in the hallway. At once, they charge us. Kazi takes the guard closest to him, knocking him out with a single punch to the face before the man even has a chance to reach for his Glock.

The other guard comes at me, fast, his gun already in his hand. I anticipate his move, and when he lifts his arm to get a shot off, I duck beneath it, swiping his utility knife as I brush by. Stepping around him, I drag the blade across his throat. Easy peasy .

When I turn back around, Kazi has the other guard’s knife embedded in his chest.

He nods at me, the cords in his neck stretching with the movement. “Go.”

My eyebrows pinch and my lips thin. “You’re not coming with me?”

“I have a few things to take care of first.”

A wild, unrestrained smile takes over my face. I know exactly what he intends, and I can’t say I blame him. And now that he’s mentioned it, I have a vindictive vow of my own I need to uphold.

“Speaking of, do you know which cell Carlos belongs to?” I ask, swiveling my head down the hallway in the direction of the other cells.

“Cell Two. Make it hurt.”

“Always.”

I spin, taking a few steps toward the second cell. When I get to the entrance, I turn back toward him. “If I see Viktor first, I’ll let him know you’re here.”

He nods solemnly, telling me that he’ll do the same, because let’s face it, Viktor is going to be the first call either of us make—for entirely different reasons. Kazi disappears down the corridor just as I step into Cell Two and sneer at the sniveling, broken man in the corner .

“Hello, Carlos.” I don’t have the time to do this the way I want, but I’m a woman of my word so I approach the man cowered in the corner, gripping his oily dark brown hair and jerking his head up to look at me. “It’s time to learn to be quiet.”

Wordlessly, I move to clutch his chin and squeeze his cheeks until his mouth pops open. With my other hand, I grab hold of his tongue. Stepping to the side of his body, out of the majority of the spray, I slice through his tongue with the dead guard’s blade. Crimson mist showers the air, the black fabric of my uniform absorbing most of the scarlet dots littering my body.

His sobs are so loud that they out-pitch the siren as I wipe the blade on his soiled uniform before darting from his cell. He’ll either bleed out or he’ll live without a tongue—either result I can live with.

In the hallway, I snatch the Glock from one of the dead guards, slinging one of a rifle over my shoulder and heading for the exit—wherever the hell that is.