Page 39 of Through the Veil (Endangered Fae #2)

Diego thanked her and gave her a hug before Lugh swept him up again.

They increased their pace as much as Angus could tolerate, half-jogging to a stairwell where Zack took them down another flight.

They entered the morgue by a simple set of swinging doors—no need to lock in the dead.

Only one table held a body, covered in a white sheet.

“Finn…” Diego whispered and struggled free of Lugh’s arms again.

He used the tables to pull himself over and snatched the sheet back to reveal the sorry state of his beloved pooka.

His skin ashen, he had dropped considerable weight—most likely from the strain of his body being forced to regenerate again and again.

His expressive face was terribly still, the rise and fall of his chest undetectable.

To the unsuspecting eye, he did, indeed, look dead.

“But only mostly dead,” Diego whispered the reference from one of Finn’s favorite movies as he reached down to stroke his tangled hair back from his forehead . “Mi amor? Can you hear me?”

“Beloved? You can’t be here. If you’ve gotten away from your jailers, you must run. Please, my hero, my light, I’m finished. You must get away.”

Diego slid an arm under his shoulders and held him close as he had wished to for days. “ Don’t be ridiculous. Not without you.”

“Mr. S.? I’m sorry, but we gotta move.”

“Give them a moment to talk,” Lugh interjected.

“I don’t hear anything…”

“Mind to mind, bucko. If you did hear them, I would ask you not to eavesdrop.”

“We have help, querido . I think we can all make it.” “Zack, can you carry him?” Diego tamped down on the tears he wanted so badly to shed. “He’s tall, but he’s not heavy.”

“I’ve got his hand.” Zach shoved the jar-encased hand in one of his cargo pockets. “May as well take the rest.”

Diego spoke close to Finn’s ear. “Finn, love, this is my friend, Zack Morrison. He’ll be as gentle as he can. Don’t bite him.”

“Is he handsome?”

“Very. Really nice eyes.”

“Hey!” Zack protested as he shouldered his rifle and slid his arms under Finn. “No talking about me behind my mind.”

Captives retrieved, it was time for an exit strategy.

“Okay, so it sounds like you came in the front, but there’s no way we’re getting back out that way,” Zack explained as he hustled them down the hall.

“Not with casualties and walking wounded. There’s a side shaft, built as a fire exit.

Might be hard going for Angus, up the stairs, but it’s our best chance to get you out and around behind your own forces. ”

They hurried after Zack, his combat boots and the fae champions’ feet thudding thunder-loud in the silence until they reached a door clearly marked ‘fire exit’ in bright, red letters.

It struck Diego how absurdly easy escape would have been if one knew the way, but then Zack shifted Finn’s weight in his arms to pull out his key card again.

Even the fire exits were locked. Zack shoved the door open with his shoulder and leaned back against it to hold it open for the rest of them.

A metallic rattle told them they were no longer alone.

“That’s as far as you go, Mr. Sandoval.” The soft, ironic voice dropped Diego’s heart to his feet. Gerry stood behind them, handgun drawn, flanked by two huge marines with rifles. “Put down whatever you’re carrying. Hands up.”

“Do what he says, guys,” Diego said around the anger choking him. “I don’t want anyone shot.”

“Did you think the corridors weren’t monitored? Did you think no one was watching?”

“Then why wait so long to stop us? Why now, when we’re almost out?” Diego demanded.

“I wanted to give Sergeant Morrison a chance to do the right thing. But he’s obviously turned traitor, just like you, Mr. Sandoval. Traitors to your planet and to your own kind.”

“You’ve got it all wrong, Agent Pulaski,” Zack protested. “They’re not aliens, they’re—”

“Yes, I’ve heard. Aren’t you a little too old to believe in fairytales, Morrison?” Gerry sneered. “Swallowing their lies whole because you have a crush on one of your favorite novelists.”

Diego risked a quick glance at Zack, whose face had flushed crimson.

“Maybe, so, sir. But that’s not why I believe him.

You’re so set on being right, you’ve gone blind.

It’s all right there on your own tapes. I mean, why the hell would an alien turn into a dragon , for chrissakes?

What would someone from Alpha Centauri or whatever know about dragons? ”

While the bitter words flew back and forth, everyone lowered their burdens to the ground or to their feet. Angus stood staring down at the blanket-wrapped bundle of Sionnach, the picture of defeat, a single tear trailing down his cheek. His lips moved but Diego couldn’t make out what he said.

“The alien who transformed was living with someone who writes about dragons. Use your head,” Gerry countered. “Lay your weapons down, Sergeant. Cooperate and I’ll try to help the tribunal see that you were duped. You can still avoid execution, at least.”

“You shall not take the sergeant,” Lugh broke in, arms crossed over his massive chest, all bristling arrogance. “I am Lugh mac Ethnenn, prince of the sidhe , and he is mine now, one of my war band. You cannot touch him.”

“I don’t care if you think you’re the god—”

Gerry’s words cut off when Angus leaped at him, the sidhe’s light, powerful body hurtling across the distance as if he had springs in his feet.

“Cretinous piece of worm dung!” Angus bellowed as he came.

He slammed into Gerry. They went down in a tangle of limbs.

The handgun went off and all hell broke loose.

Diego went face down on the floor when something collided with his back.

Lugh and Faolchú both disappeared, moving faster than the human eye could follow.

Shots popped off, echoing in the hallway.

Zack slammed into the wall and slid down to the floor, obviously hit.

One of the Marines crumpled to his knees, his left leg torn and bleeding.

Lugh reappeared behind him, Faolchú behind the other, and the Marines were dropped, out cold, each with a single blow to the head.

Angus still screamed incoherently, his long fingers wrapped around Gerry’s throat, slamming his head against the floor repeatedly.

“Angus, stop.” Lugh pulled him gently off his opponent. “Enough.”

“He would stand and watch!” Angus wailed. “Tell them more lightning and more often. Please let me kill him.” He whimpered and clutched his side, blood oozing through his fingers.

“We have promised not to kill today, Far-seer. Don’t make us break oath. And you are wounded, let me see.”

Diego twisted his head to find the object on his back was Nathair, panting and trembling. He sat up and moved him gently aside so he could crawl over to Zack. There was a hole in his vest, just left of center.

“Zack?” He ran a hand over the close-cropped blond hair. “Please don’t die…”

Gray eyes opened to regard him seriously. “Nah. Not today, Mr. S.,” Zack gasped out. “This is what the Kevlar’s for.”

The bullet might not have penetrated, but he was obviously hurt as he winced and grunted his way back to his feet.

Dios , now what? Zack would barely be able to make the stairs on his own, and Angus had taken a bullet in his side.

The two champions seemed unperturbed, though.

Faolchú slung Sionnach over one shoulder and Finn over the other.

Lugh took Angus in his arms, motioned for Nathair to climb on his back, then waved to Diego.

“No, I’ll manage. The stairs have rails. I’ll swing myself up. Help Zack.”

The sergeant held up a hand, leaning on his rifle. “I’m okay. I’ll take rearguard so I don’t slow you down. Up the steps, all the way to the top. There’s a hatch up there. You just turn the wheel to the right and push it open. Let’s go, folks, move like you’ve got a purpose in life.”

Lugh led, making his way up with what Diego thought ridiculous speed considering how burdened he was.

Faolchú matched him step for step, taking the stairs two and three at a time when Lugh did, as if this, too, was a competition between them.

Diego fought not to roll his eyes, though he supposed it was only natural since they had been sparring opponents for so long.

The result was that Diego and Zack fell farther and farther behind until they were four flights back and could no longer see their companions.

Then Diego realized he was alone. “Zack?” A hand on either rail, he swung back down the steps and found Zack sitting with his back against the wall two landings down. Diego tugged gently on his arm. “I think we’re almost there. Come on.”

“Ribs are broke,” Zack panted, his face parchment pale. “Pretty sure. Can’t do it, Mr. S. Sorry. You go on. You’ve gotta…get them safe. I’ve got your back.”

A metallic clang reached them from the bottom of the stairs followed by booted footsteps. More soldiers in pursuit.

“No, Zack, come on, damn it!” Diego tugged again, trying to get Zack up and moving. “You’re a Marine, right? You know better than to leave a man behind.”

The sergeant made a valiant attempt only to collapse half a flight on. “You’re a…stubborn man.” He lifted his rifle, pointing it down the stairs. “Go. I’ll…give you time.”

“You have another weapon?” Diego plunked down on the step shoulder to shoulder with him.

“Handgun…right hip…holster.”

Diego fumbled for it and aimed down the stairs while Zack stared at him.

“You can’t…kill anyone…Diego.”

“Why the hell not?”

“You’re…a novelist.”

While Diego tried to puzzle out that odd statement, the boots on the stairs pounded closer. This is it, then. I’m going to die here because of a sprained ankle and not-quite-adequate body armor.

Just as the first soldier’s head came into sight around the landing, a thunderous roar shook the stairwell from above. The stairs trembled as an impossibly huge body leaped down them, entire flights at a time.

“Fuck…” Zack whispered. “It’s that boar thing.”