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CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

emma

H ours creeped by.

So many hours in the dark.

It had to have been hours of dragging my fingers over the surface of my invisible cage, fighting against the pain of a phantom fire as it burned over my skin. Each time any part of me came into contact with the smooth, slick walls, the pain came, punishing me for trying to escape.

I had no real way of knowing how long it had actually been. My phone was in the beat-up Jeep back at the Conclave, and I never wore a watch. There wasn’t even a window to show the change in sunlight. The air was dank and cool, so I was sure I’d been trapped underground somewhere.

Louisiana wasn’t a state of many caves, and it wasn’t likely Acheron had chosen to hide in Wolf Rock Cave.

With the water table high in general, we didn’t even have that many buildings with basements…

He must have built himself a hidden bunker.

Madmen and dictators loved hidden bunkers to enact their plans to take over the world.

Suddenly, the torches along the walls flickered to life, and footsteps punctuated the silence of the room, echoing from one side to the other, and I closed my eyes to focus on the sounds, trying to tap into any animal senses I might still be able to access.

Damn. No use. No magic.

You’ll never touch magic again.

Hell, he was in my head again.

Yes, I will, sooner than you think.

Acheron stopped in front of my invisible cage, wearing Logan’s face once more. “I know you prefer this face.”

“And you hate that face,” I said.

He raised an eyebrow. “Then you’ve heard about me.”

“One thing or another,” I answered, unwilling to admit everything I knew about him… or everything I didn’t yet know. “I’ve heard you devour shifters and waste incredible people on your vileness.”

He chuckled. “I’m no different than Logan, willing to sacrifice whoever I need to sacrifice in order to get what I want.”

“No, that’s not Logan.”

My mate gave up what he wanted for the sake of the clans, for the chance of doing away with Acheron once and for all. If Logan weren’t that kind of man, he would have carried me away to his bedroom to fuck my brains out when I’d asked him.

“It’s taken centuries to learn how to capture shifters, to work my way across the continents, and to find the descendent of the shifter who murdered my mother. Now, I’ve caught the multimorph at emergence, and the fruition of my plan is imminent.”

“Great monologue.” I might have been trembling from head to toe, but I still pretended to be unimpressed.

Acheron flourished his hands like some kind of magician on the stage, and I stifled the desire to roll my eyes and groan. This fucking guy…

The already-lit lights in the cavern brightened even more, and another ten burst into flame, illuminating the far end of the basement cavity where a real iron maiden waited.

It was suspended at an incline between two metal arms which had been fastened to the stone floor.

Spikes lined the interior of the lid. A large worktable rested beside it, with bowls, herbs, and a large book covering the surface.

The extra light also exposed a rectangular shadow in the wall beyond, probably an exit.

From my spot in my cage, I believed I could just make out flickering lights in the corridor beyond.

I studied the mage, his wild hair and the manic gleam to his eyes. “Let me guess. You expect me to get into your torture chamber. Voluntarily.”

Acheron shook his head. “It would be a disappointment if you did.”

“Then what’s with the dramatic introduction of the thing? All the torches are great for atmosphere, sure, but they’ve got to be some of the most ineffective lighting options out there.”

He gestured toward the exit, and a shrouded figure shuffled into the crypt. They’d been wrapped like a mummy, and a hooded cloak shadowed their face.

“Who’s that?” I asked. “More importantly, why should I care?”

Shit. He was going to hurt someone to get me to do what he wanted me to do, and I had to pretend like all the collateral damage didn’t bother me, like I didn’t care about those who were caught in the supernatural crossfire.

Acheron flicked his fingers, and the hood fell away, revealing a young, red-headed woman, staring straight ahead as if trapped in a trance.

Oh, motherfucker. Riley.

My intake of breath sent Acheron dancing around my cage. Jasper had promised they had been looking after her. What was going on out there? I would never forgive myself if anything happened to Riley or Shannon. Shannon’s kids…

“If you do not cooperate with me, she will go in the Iron Maiden.” He pointed to my veterinary nursing assistant. “She must be worth something to you. I had to murder three shifters to capture her.”

Three shifters died while trying to save Riley? More death rested on my shoulders. They hadn’t died for me but for the idea of me: the multimorph, the magical savior of everything they loved .

My thoughts returned to Jasper and Olivia. I hoped they were still safe.

Dammit. I bit my bottom lip, focusing on the sharp pain, pushing a long slow breath out of my lungs and swallowing the sobs. How was I supposed to beat this guy while trapped in a cage, unable to shift, while he threatened Riley?

He flicked his fingers again, and Riley cried out, dropping to her knees. Another flick, and she crumpled to the ground. Tears glittered on her cheeks as the moisture caught the flickering light from the burning torches.

“What do you want from me?”

“You must link with me,” he said. “When you do, I will absorb your magic, and I will become the leader of the shifters, able to bend their will to my own, and my rise to power will be complete.”

I frowned. “What then?”

“Then I will destroy them, one by one, and force Logan to watch.” The words were ironic coming out of Almost-Logan’s face.

Oh, is that all? Spots danced in my vision, and I felt faint, reaching for the smooth, invisible wall to steady myself, forgetting the fire punishment until it shot over my skin. Yanking my hand away from the edge, I slid to the ground, wanting to hide from the battle I was losing.

How could Logan and Jasper and Olivia have believed I was the multimorph? How? I didn’t have the ability to beat Acheron. Right now, he held all the cards, and I was imprisoned in his basement. If I didn’t agree, Riley would die, and she would never get to live out her life.

If I agreed to join with Acheron, I’d sacrifice all of the shifters…

And I’d never get to be with Logan.

How do I make the choice? How did I decide between a person I knew, cared for, and wanted to see live and thousands of shifters?

Sacrifice one to save thousands… Logically, it wasn’t a choice at all. Emotionally, it ripped me in two.

But I still had to choose.

There was only one choice I could make, and Riley would never understand.

And I’ll never be able to forgive myself.

I climbed to my feet, swaying back and forth, blinking rapidly to keep a wave of sobs from escaping. “Kill her. She means nothing to me.”

He scowled at me, and his facade slipped, clearly not expecting that response out of me, but as a vet, I’d been trained how to make judgment calls—hard ones—every day, and I glared at him, setting my chin as though bracing for a physical blow. None of the training had prepared me for this moment.

“Very well.” He turned to face Riley with hatred in Logan’s eyes.

Oh, god, Riley. You mean everything. I’m so sorry.

I wanted to sink to the ground, but my knees locked, and I forced myself to keep my eyes on Riley. Hiding myself away from the results of her sentence wasn’t an option, not when it had been my decision .

Acheron whirled back toward me, and I flinched. “I’d hoped we could do this the easy way, but you want to do this the hard way.”

“I rarely choose the easy way.”

He laughed as though I’d given him the best news of the day. He snapped his fingers, and the invisible cage turned visible, iron bars closed in around me.

Time had pocked and pitted the rough old iron. When I grazed the bars, my skin no longer burned, so I stuck my hand though the gaps in the cage. The warding must have made the walls of the container transparent and smooth.

“Come out!” he commanded.

The gate swung open, and the creak of the hinges echoed around me.

Unwillingly, I took a step, and I fought against the next. And the next.

But my legs moved whether I wanted them to or not, and Acheron forced me across the room until I stopped beside him, so close I could smell the foul stench of him.

My brain recoiled despite the actions of my body.

No matter what face he wore, this wasn’t Logan, and Acheron would never be able to make me hate Logan…

even if the mage tortured me while wearing Logan’s face.

Mentally, I reached for my mate once more. Logan! Where are you? Find me.

Acheron turned to Riley, and she began moving toward the metal canister, vacant eyes staring at some distant point, some place not in the hell we were both trapped. She climbed into the Iron Maiden and lay down .

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ve released her from her trance.”

The lid slammed shut, and she shrieked. A moment later, blood dripped out from the lowest end into a large copper bowl.

Inside, hysterical sobs followed, and she began pounding against the metal under her. “Let me out. Please let me out. Don’t kill me. Don’t kill me.”

Acheron studied my face a moment and turned back to Riley, gesturing toward the box. The metal tube crunched around her, forcing the spikes deeper into her.

Riley screamed. “Help me!”

I yelled, squeezed my eyes closed, and turned away from the metal box slowly collapsing around her. Hot tears spilled over my cheeks.

“As I suspected,” Acheron said. “I’m not the only one who hides who they are, am I? You care for this one, this human.”

“Yes, yes, stop hurting her,” I begged, reaching for Acheron. “I’ll link with you.”