Page 49 of Fae Devoted (Fae Touched #3)

“We need his thumbprint,” the battle witch mouthed, incapable of sub-vocal speech.

Ethan bent to grab the man laid out at Rose’s feet, but the queen beat him to it.

She yanked the two-hundred-pound human up by his wrist, almost popping his arm out of its socket.

Twisting his forearm, she pressed his thumb to the electronic pad then tossed him at the kitchen island.

His shoulder hit the marble edge hard before collapsing into a heap on the tile floor.

Tucker heard bone crack.

The queen lifted a deceptive delicate shoulder and a single eyebrow, utterly unrepentant at inflicting injury on the facility’s employee.

Rose considered anyone who messed with the people under her protection fair game.

Whether this particular Untouched harmed Abby in the past or Jo in the present was irrelevant.

He was guilty by association and deserved swift retribution.

Tucker and Jeremiah shifted to human form to fit inside the elevator, then moved to stand behind Ethan and in front of the queen.

They descended, and the witch’s lips moved, reciting an incantation over the red cube he pulled from his shirt pocket.

The shiny object illuminated, and the smell of anise and black licorice saturated the air.

As the elevator doors opened, the box flashed once, the compact square changing to the color of wet clay.

The guards monitoring the video feed would now see an empty corridor; the cameras within a hundred-yard radius on freeze-frame.

Ethan reactivated a privacy ward to hide the echo of his boots on the concrete flooring and left the elevator. A Dádhe didn’t require a spell to move soundlessly—and neither did a Ferwyn wolf.

Tucker joined Ethan in the deserted hallway, then converted to four legs. Jeremiah did the same, their noses lifting in unison, seeking direction. Citrus and woodsy rose combined with the smell of human sweat, chlorine, the barest hint of witch vanilla, and…charcoal?

Rose cocked her head and sped to the end of the T-shaped corridor, flattening her lithe body against the side of the left wall. She held her palm up flat, telling them to wait. A Dádhe’s hearing was unmatched by any other Fae Touched race.

The tattoo beneath Ethan’s ear flared to life, long seconds passing before Tucker heard the clomp of heavy footsteps approaching the tunnel’s intersection. Once the sound’s owner was in range, the queen flew into action.

The soldier never saw her—or her fist—coming.

Rose’s arm shot out like a bullet, knuckles striking the man on the side of his neck. The strength-controlled jab connected with his carotid artery, and he fainted from the abrupt drop in blood pressure. She caught him before he hit the ground, her pupils glowing scarlet.

Ethan grinned and soundlessly cast the spell that would keep the human asleep for hours. Every alarm in the building could blare, and he wouldn’t awaken.

The queen stuffed the soldier into the first empty room they came across, then she and Ethan strode back the way they came while Tucker and Jeremiah headed in the opposite direction.

The faint scent trail of orange blossoms and pink peppercorns led him to a room where Jo’s fear spiked, and her pain still lingered. Samuel felt Tucker’s rage through the unblocked bond, and a question streamed through the link. Tucker answered his Alpha with a ferocity that left his soul bare.

They hurt my she-wolf.

Although no words were spoken, the understanding between them came through loud and clear. Blood would be shed that night. Tucker could almost hear Samuel’s answering grunt and the do what you have to do tolling like a bell in his head.

Maneuvering his gray’s bulk into the hallway where Jeremiah paced, Tucker continued in pursuit of his mate. Anger and worry clouded his vision, and he grasped onto the remnants of his bond with Jo, searching for a semblance of reassurance in its gossamer strands.

The smell of pool water and burned briquettes heightened as they prowled the stark tunnel in total silence, the harsh overhead lighting making him squint.

Stopping to listen at every doorway and finding them all empty, they hurried on.

No humans crossed their path after the one Rose cold-cocked.

The facility’s nightshift was running on a skeleton crew.

Their sloppiness raised the chance of the mission’s success, but Ethan would have to expend an excessive amount of magical energy to spell the soldiers once he and the queen reached the compound’s sleeping quarters.

Tucker lowered to his wolf’s underbelly as they approached the next intersection, his ears and tail twitching.

A pair of human males were around the corner, discussing women and overdue furloughs.

He sniffed, and his chest rumbled with a sub-vocal growl.

The need for violence heated his blood, and he shifted, the scent of his she-wolf’s agony striking him like a bolt of lightning.

Exploding into motion, he charged the unsuspecting sentries, grabbing the closest guard by the skull with both hands.

He pulled his head down and viciously kneed him in the groin.

The second soldier’s eyes only had time to widen before Tucker’s foot hit him square in the chest. The brutal kick tossed the human across the hallway where he slammed into the far wall, bounced, and crumpled to the ground.

Still holding onto the first soldier as he gagged and wheezed, Tucker spun him around and slammed his forehead into the concrete block. He dropped like a stone.

“Feel better, brother?” A converted Jeremiah leaned on the corner wall with a smirk on his face, arms crossed as if he’d been waiting for hours instead of seconds.

“No.” And he wouldn’t until the Director paid for every hurt done to his she-wolf.

Worse for wear but still breathing, he left the humans where they fell and faced the last barrier between him and his mate. He inhaled and listened. Jo was alone inside.

“Stay calm.” Jeremiah’s voice wolf-low, expression sober. A slight push of compulsion crept into the order. The sensation a familiar comfort despite the decades spent as another Alpha’s beta. “Your female needs you to keep your shit together.”

Nodding, Tucker clasped the steel handle and twisted, busting the lock with a muffled click. The minor burn of iron on his palm unworthy of notice, but what he found inside almost caused an involuntary conversion.

Jo lay on her back in an enormous bed, covered to the waist by a silken sheet.

Her auburn hair hung loose around her pale face, chest rising and falling with each labored breath she took.

Jo’s eyes were closed, her arms bent at the elbow and propped on top of her breasts.

She held her hands aloft, palm-side down, and they hovered motionless above her slender throat like a surgeon prepped to receive sterile gloves.

Thick gray bands wrapped her wrists, the skin above and below the cuffs bright red and grotesquely swollen.

Iron.

The growl he’d been holding in tore from his lungs, and her eyes fluttered open, the browns and greens of her irises dulled with pain.

“Jacob?” she said weakly, struggling to rise.

“Don’t.” He swallowed the roar building in his throat and hurried to her side. “Don’t move, not yet.” Not until he figured out how to remove the poisonous metal.

“You’re here.” Her chin wobbled as she let herself fall back, eyes glistening. “The mating bond…”

“Isn’t going anywhere.” Unable to resist, he bent and placed a soft kiss on her forehead, careful not to touch her hands or jar the bed.

There was no sense asking if she was okay because Jo wasn’t okay. Not by a longshot.

“I was so afraid. I thought…for one moment I thought you’d…” her voice broke.

“I know, baby. Me too.” The horror of believing Jo was dead rushed back, and his fingers shook as he brushed the back of his hand over her freckled cheek. “Do you know how to get them off?”

“One of the guards had a mini-flashlight looking device he used to open them yesterday, but I don’t know if…”

“This it?” His brother tossed a silver penlight from the hallway.

Tucker caught it before Jo finished saying, “…they all have them.”

Her attention flew to the open door. “Jeremiah?”

“Hello, little sister.”

“Jacob found you.” Joy lit her face, softening the pinched look of pain around her eyes.

“Technically, I found him .” Jeremiah’s lips lifted in a semblance of a smile for Jo, incapable of completely masking his outrage.

She beamed at his brother, and Tucker’s heart came close to shattering as her inflamed fingers tucked between his slack thumb and palm. Light pressure against his calloused skin mimicked an excited squeeze before gingerly sliding away.

So brave, so beautiful.

“Jo, how do I get these fucking things off?” The family reunion could wait.

“They ran the beam over the bracelet’s latch,” she said, dragging her gaze from his twin. “It releases the locking mechanism.”

Despite the urgency gnawing at his gut, Tucker carefully sat on the edge of the bed then waited patiently for Jo to lower her arms to her thighs and place a wrist in his open palm. “Ready?”

She bit the inside of her cheek and nodded.

He zipped the beam of light over the metal joint, and it unlocked with a snick. The band released like an unhinged jaw to reveal the torn and blistered skin underneath. Tucker’s canines burst from his gums, his vision turning yellow.

“Jacob, it’s okay. I’ll heal.” Jo was in excruciating pain, yet she was trying to comfort him .

“Fuck,” erupted from his lungs before they seized, and his throat closed. Uncaring if the entire facility heard his shout. Let them come.

“I’ll be okay.” Her forehead plunked onto his chest, then slid to the side, her ear pressed to his heart.

Forcing his wolf’s claws to retract, he quickly released the other cuff while her cheek rubbed against his sternum.

Her head never lifted from his chest as he tossed the iron aside and cupped the back of her neck.

Tucker didn’t know how long he listened for her anguished-filled pants to slow, and her sprinting heart to begin to calm.

And he didn’t care. The mission no longer mattered.

The Director didn’t matter. And God forgive him—neither did the Fae.

Only Jo.

Tucker rested his chin on the top of her head, holding her until their heartbeats and respirations matched in rhythm as the mating bond throbbed back to life.

“We have to go.”

“I know.” She sighed. “Samuel is here.”

The pack bond set free with her wrists.

Jo gasped as he scooped her into his arms but didn’t protest. It would take days for her body to recover from the prolonged exposure to iron. Until then, she’d be weak and hurting. “The cuffs?”

“What?”

“How long have they been on?” He swallowed hard, grip tightening around her legs, his rage returning with his fangs.

“I’m okay, or at least, I will be. But right now, we need to worry about finding Charlie.”

“Charlotte was here?” Jeremiah’s nostrils flared.

The double-tap dash double-tap in Tucker’s ear signaled the príohs had gained control of the monitors.

Audio wouldn’t be an issue unless they came across more guards in the corridors.

The third double tap that would confirm all live soldiers were out of commission was absent.

He thumped his earbud once in acknowledgement, noting his twin did the same.

“Ah, well, um…” Jo licked her lips, long lashes lowered to hide her eyes. “That is to say, she’s—”

“I trust him.” The Fae may have controlled Jeremiah once. May have damaged his wolf and left a brand on his skin. But Tucker believed his brother would take his own life before hurting a child.

Half-turned away from them with his hands balled at his sides, Jeremiah nodded without looking back and stepped into the hallway.

Jo exhaled as if a tremendous weight was lifted from her shoulders.

“The Director sent Charlie and Hannah to my room yesterday. They were there when I…woke up.” Her inflamed fingers landed on his jaw as it went rigid at the implication, not even glancing at the downed soldier he stepped over as he stalked after his brother.

“As a threat for me or a bribe…I’m still not sure. ”

“Hannah?” Jeremiah kept his back to them, all his senses on alert as they followed the thick vanilla scent detected in Jo’s room. His brother’s vigilance freed Tucker to concentrate on his she-wolf who remained vulnerable to attack with her crippled healing ability.

“Charlie’s human teacher and nanny.” She scowled, sore hand returning to her lap instead of naturally wrapping around his neck. “But I’m not sure if she’s here by choice either.”

“We’ll find the witchling,” Tucker soothed. “But you need a healer.”

Jo’s suffering would continue without the aid of an Anwyll healing sleep. Remington had promised to fly his in with Garath if necessary.

And it was fucking necessary.

“I won’t leave without her, Jacob.”

“Jo—”

“You don’t understand.” She clutched at his collar, ignoring the discomfort it must have caused. “The Director belongs to the Fae.”