Luna of Rogues - Chapter 73: Chapter 73

"I want to break free," I sang. "I want to breaaak free."
Rhys laughed. "Nice. Next stop, Britain's Got Talent."
Rhodric didn't even deign to glance in our direction. His eyes were fixed firmly on the ceiling like he was having a very frank and very exasperated conversation with the Goddess. He'd been very quiet since we'd been locked up. Eerily quiet. I had a feeling it had something to do with the prospect of seeing Malcolm.
"My ears are bleeding," Fion told me through the link. "Can you at least escape before you sing about it?"
"Ugh, fine," I replied. "We are working on it, just ... slowly."
I looked down at the nylon ropes which bound my wrists to the chair, and I couldn't help wondering if there had been an easier way to do this. I didn't like being tied up.
"You should try it again, Skye," Rhys told me.
"I thought we already established it's not going to work," I sighed. "And I do like having some skin on my hands."
"Just try," he insisted stubbornly.
Rhodric rolled his eyes and Leo continued to stand there looking dazed and concussed, but I heeded Rhys's request, relaxing my hand and pulling it back sharply. Pain lanced up my arm, and the rope scraped over my skin, but to my increasing frustration, the bindings held firm.
I'd clenched my fists when they had been tying me up to make it easier to wriggled free later. Obviously, it hadn't worked. In fact, nothing had worked. We'd been in this room for almost an hour now, and every single escape attempt had failed.
Rhodric had stopped trying to slip his chains only after watching his son dislocate his shoulder. It had been sheer stupidity on his part — some weird assumption that the chains would break before his ligaments did. He was paying the price now, because it would be out of the socket and causing him pain until we did manage to escape and replace it for him. Perhaps that was why he kept nagging me.
It was true that I was in the best position to escape, but I wouldn't consider myself lucky. I was probably in this chair and not chained with the others because they were planning to interrogate me. And why had they picked me for that? Rhys was more likely to blurt things out by accident, and Rhodric certainly knew a lot more. And Leo ... well, I supposed he wouldn't be much use while he was concussed, would he?
Footsteps echoed in the corridor outside. I slumped down in my chair and tried my best to look pathetic. I wasn't Skye right now — I was Kara. She was afraid of these people, and for very good reason.
The door creaked open slowly, and two guards walked into the cellar. Between them was a man I recognised only too well. Given half a chance, I would rip his head off his shoulders. Malcolm looked just as smug as he had six months ago outside the feral's camp.
It wasn't me he was looking at. It was someone behind me and slightly to the left.
"Now, this is a treat," Malcolm said. "I heard we had you locked up, of course, but I didn't quite believe it..."
A muscle writhed in Rhodric's jaw. "No tinfoil this time? I'm almost disappointed."
"Well, we've only just moved in," Malcolm said tightly. "There's not been time for that. But now I'm wondering if I should bother. Your little mind games are cheap ... and so easily countered. If their training wasn't effective, you wouldn't be chained up right now. Would you?"
He was very wrong about that. Fion had managed to overpower six hunters at once, so I would say their training was relatively useless. And if she could do that after only a few months of practice, I could only imagine what Rhodric might be capable of.
"And look what we have here! The two who escaped me last time, all grown up," Malcolm said. He looked me over, and then his eyes moved to Rhys. "Perhaps we'll play another game. And this time, we'll include the whole family."
The way he was smiling made my skin crawl. I didn't know what he meant, exactly, but Rhodric seemed to. I could smell the anger seeping from him in sickening waves.
"Whole family? This isn't even half of us," I muttered.
Malcolm gave me a cursory glance before his gaze settled back on Rhodric with a dangerous intensity. "I was referring to the useful part of the family. A heavily pregnant lass and a crazy old man hardly count."
He doesn't know, I thought slyly. That, at least, had gone right. Even if I was only just realising what a stupid idea this was. His information had to be a little out-of-date if he didn't realise just how dangerous my extended family could be. He'd be surprised what a crazy old man and a heavily pregnant lass could do if they put their minds to it. Not even to mention the family members he thought were dead.
"If you're going to torture me, can you get on with it?" I demanded. The original plan had been for me to do the talking, but the plan had already gone off the rails. But I was beginning to notice that the more Malcolm spoke to Rhodric, the more animated he was becoming. We wanted to keep him nice and calm for the time being. Even if that meant not acting like Kara for a minute or two.
"Torture you?" Malcolm laughed. "No, lovely girl. Not much point in that. You don't know anything useful. Or at least ... you don't know anything that I don't already know."
"Then why am I in this weird chair?" I sighed, pulling against the ropes to illustrate my point.
"Ah, good question. I thought it would make it easier to carve you up in such a way that your father can watch."
I made sure to show a flicker of confusion at the word father, just to let him wonder.
"So you are going to torture me?" I demanded, my forehead creased.
Malcolm shrugged at me. "Well, I suppose you can call it that if you like. Personally, I think of it as torturing him."
Goddess, the audacity of it. He'd said he wouldn't torture me, not five seconds ago. And yet he was taking a knife from his belt even as I watched. I was starting to get the impression that I was very far beneath his notice. As far as he was concerned, there were only two people in this room. Him and Rhodric. The rest of us were just toys to play with, to pass the time.
"Rhys is right there," I muttered. "So why are you picking on me?"
My brother rolled his eyes at me.
"He calls you his daughter — so I should hope he cares about you," Malcolm laughed. "Rhys will get his turn soon enough, never fear."
Another flash of confusion at the word daughter, this time lingering a little longer.
He laid the blade against my arm and waited. The metal was icy cold against my skin, and I shivered despite myself. He was smiling at Rhodric over my head, and it didn't take him long to rise to it.
"Do you want something? Or are you just pausing for dramatic effect?" he demanded.
"I suppose I have a few questions. I mean, aren't they obvious? You march in here, tactless as can be... Even you have to admit your fault. Did you really believe we would stand back for Cassidy's sake?"
My dad clenched his jaw. "I hoped you might care for the girl. It appears I was wrong."
"Not wrong, just optimistic. Like when you assumed I wouldn't hurt Jess."
"You didn't just hurt Jess. You killed her," Rhodric retorted.
"Oh, I killed her? Is that what you told them?" Malcolm's laugh was filled with delight. "The truth is just too painful, is it?"
A coldness spread through me, and it was nothing to do with the blade resting on my arm. It had seemed like such an obvious explanation. I had never even thought to question it, until now ... One glance at Rhodric told me that he was hiding something. He wasn't looking any of us in the eyes. No, he was still looking at Malcolm.
"They won't believe you," he said quietly but firmly.
"Damn right, we won't," I spat. It was hard to admit that I had to swallow the tiniest drop of doubt to say it. "You killed Jess, and you killed my parents, and you turned Brandon feral."
"Oh, my," Malcolm laughed. "He really has been telling lies, hasn't he? Jess was alive when I left her, and as for her son ... the damage I did was not permanent. He wasn't feral. I couldn't have done it, not then. I hadn't developed the drug yet."
"Bullshit."
Malcolm surveyed us maliciously, and then he shrugged at Rhodric, still smiling. "I suppose there's no way to prove it now, and I'm sure they'll take your word over mine. But I think they'll be wondering for the rest of their lives ... however long that may be."
Just when I thought I couldn't take any more, Fion nudged me the mind-link. "Jeff's in. Kara's on the move now."
So Cassidy had succeeded in slipping away from her guardians to open a door. With a crazy Shadowcat loose in the base, hunters would be falling like dominoes. And in three, two, one...
The door to the cell banged open with enough force to dent the metal. A young hunter stood in the corridor, panting and anxious. He strode forwards to whisper in Malcolm's ear. It was a futile effort when their prisoners were all werewolves. I could hear every word.
"There's howling coming from outside. Several hundred wolves, by the sound of it. We're surrounded."
Malcolm's mouth became a thin line. "We've got enough bullets to kill them all ten times over, so calm down, for God's sake. Are they showing themselves?"
The hunter glanced at me. "Most are hidden in the trees, but we can see one."
"They must know about the guns. Still, they'll have to come out sooner or later," he said lightly.
No, they wouldn't. The raiders were still at Lle o Dristwch. We'd just borrowed their voices. But I was sure the tape recorders scattered around the forest would be terrified of Malcolm's guns.
"Sir, there's something else. The one we can see ... it's a black she-wolf wearing silver armour. She matches the description of Skye Llewellyn. Only I thought—"
"—that we had Skye Llewellyn safely in here." Malcolm span around to face me. "So did I."
It was difficult not to laugh, but I managed it. Instead, a look of pure confusion and surprise crossed my face. "What? I'm Kara. Can't you tell us apart?"
"Impossible. She died in the fire."
"No, I didn't die," I muttered. "But I did get a few lungfuls of smoke."
The last time Malcolm had seen Kara, she had been much younger. Fourteen or fifteen, as best she could recall. I could only hope I looked enough like her to fool him. He was slowly putting the pieces together now. He was remembering the hints I'd planted in our conversation.
"It could be Eira out there. I never saw any proof of her death," he mused.
"Ah, yes, I suppose it could be," Rhodric said. He was almost smiling now. "But if it is Eira out there and not Skye, tell me, Scott — is that better for you, or is that much, much worse?"
Malcolm thought about it for a moment, and then heswore viciously. He reached for the door handle and disappeared off into thecorridor to deal with the more pressing threat, leaving us blessedly alone with the two guards. I stared at them, just watching and waiting.
"That went well," one said. It was his voice but Fion's words. She was controlling him, even from outside the base. I could only guess how much effort that took.
His friend turned to him in confusion. His eyes flashed hazel, and then he fell to the floor. Unconscious or dead — I didn't know or care. It had been Rhodric's doing, probably. He was so terrifying efficient at worming his way into people's heads. The guard under Fion's control grimaced. "We need to hurry. I can't keep this up much longer."
"Then don't, kiddo," Rhodric said. "Let him go. It's okay. I'll take over."
Those greens eyes turned hazel, too. And then I watched the guard take a few clumsy steps across the cell as Rhodric got the hang of operating someone else's body. It didn't take him long. He turned the key in his own chains first and then let the guard slump to the floor.
Once my father was free, he ripped at the knots which held my arms to the chair. When Leo's turn came, he blinked away some of the confusion and rubbed at his head, wincing.
"Idiot," I hissed at him. "Why'd you have to fight back?"
He shrugged. "You said to make it look real, Skye. I was just doing my job."
The scent of his blood was putting me on edge. "You overdid your job. I was beginning to think we would have to carry you out."
A low groan caught my attention. Rhys was free and on standing, but he looked pale. He had been quiet while Malcolm was in the room, probably to avoid drawing attention to himself. His shoulder was still at a disturbing angle. Rhodric crouched next to him, ready to relocate the joint. He managed it quickly and quietly, although it left Rhys spitting out curses.
Not fun, which I knew from experience.
There was a lot of noise coming from the corridor. Snarls, shouting, and running feet. It sounded like the whole compound was in chaos. Bursts of gunfire erupted and halted just as quickly. There wasn't a single hunter to be seen. Our distraction was doing its work. Now all we needed to do was find Malcolm.
There was a clatter of claws on stone, and a dark beast came into view. His pelt was bloodstained and torn in places, but otherwise Jeff didn't seem too much the worse for wear. Cassidy followed at his heels, looking remarkably unterrified.
"I thought it was best to stay with him," she said matter-of-factly.
They fell into step beside us. We continued down the corridor, headed for where Malcolm would inevitably be — at the front entrance, checking on the whole decoy-Skye situation. There was no shortage of hunters along the way. Five appeared out of a side room, unarmed and looking as if they had only just woken up.
They froze when they saw us. For a good minute, our two groups watched and waited. Hunters and hunted, although I wasn't sure which was which. Rhodric kept a hand on the Shadowcat's shoulder, holding him back for some unknown reason. I debated shifting myself, but it was inconvenient not having opposable thumbs in a building. It looked like we were going to have to kill them, until Rhys broke the tension like an eggshell.
"You'd better beware," he said. He turned to me with a broad grin. "Get it? Be-were. 'Cause we're—"
"I got it," I interrupted, grimacing. "Threats aren't nearly as effective when you make puns out of them, by the way."
Rhys sighed. "Yeah, but ... I've been waiting to use that one for years now."
I rolled my eyes and drew my knife to dispatch the witnesses to my brother's terrible sense of humour. It didn't prove necessary. They were lifting their hands and kneeling on the ground. Perhaps those slight trappings of civilisation and humanity had convinced them to take their chances for mercy.
And how could we kill them now?
"Stand up," I ordered. They did. "Turn around and start walking."
They did that too — went straight back into the room they had come from. I rather enjoyed it. There was an immense satisfaction in giving a command and seeing it obeyed.
The door was solid metal and thick enough to hold a werewolf, let alone a person, so I simply closed it and slid the bolt across. Then I shouted through the door, "The emergency services will get here within a few hours. Stay quiet and still until then, and you might just survive the night."
My father gave an approving nod. He was checking the air for Malcolm's scent. The corridor split into two branches beyond this point. The whole building was like a maze, but we could follow our noses.
"He's down here," Rhodric eventually decided, pointing left. "We should split up. Corner him."
"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Leo said carefully.
I had to agree. "Something bad always happens when we split up. Wolves are stronger in numbers, remember? We should stay as a pack."
He shook his head. "We can't leave our backs open, but you do have a point. We'll send Jeff to the right. He's not a wolf. Shadowcats function better alone, anyway."
That seemed more reasonable. So Rhodric sent Jeff on his merry way with a single word, while we carried on. Our footsteps echoed horribly in the corridor, and we had to walk at a snail's pace to avoid alerting everyone in the vicinity to our presence.
After we'd traversed another long stretch of corridor, the scent was getting stronger. Malcolm stank of blood and smoke — both ill-omened smells. My wolf started shying away from it, and it became increasingly difficult to walk towards the leader of the hunters. She was freaking out in my skull, trying to force a shift or gain any ounce of control. She wanted out.
I was headstrong enough to ignore her, but I shouldn't have. Our wolves could sense many things that we couldn't — danger, specifically. Animals operated on a more basic level of instinct than we did. And they were rarely wrong.
We rounded one last corner into a dark, dingy room. And we found him.
Malcolm was cornered and outnumbered, but he still had claws. There was a handgun in the hunter's hands, and it was pointed straight at Cassidy. I heard muttered curses, but no one dared move. We were too far away to disarm him safely. The gun swung around slowly, resting on each of us in turn before circling back to its original target.
"I'm getting this odd feeling of déjà vu. Can't think why," Malcolm drawled at Rhodric. "The last time a rogue came knocking on my door, he left with three children and three corpses. History does love to repeat itself. I'll kill the girl first. She's your son's mate, isn't she?"
Rhodric failed to reply, and for good reason. Malcolm was crazy in a dangerous way. He had stopped running, so he had no intention of leaving this standoff alive. This was a man who knew he was going to die and just wanted to take as many of us with him as he could.
We should have sent Cassidy outside to join Fion while we had the chance.
"Then I'll kill his friends, just like I killed yours. What do you say? Shall we leave poor Rhys to pick up the pieces? Twenty years from now, he'll be just like you. Bitter, angry, and wishing he'd died too."
"He's Jess's son," Rhodric reminded him carefully. "You don't want to hurt Jess's son."
Malcolm cocked the gun, his thumb nudging the safety out of position. "You're right. I want to hurt you. That's why I took her in the first place. To watch you break along with the mate-bond. I think watching the same happen to your son would shatter something even more precious. You'd do anything to avoid that, wouldn't you? It's perfect — a fate worse than death."
His finger squeezed the trigger, ever so slowly.
I hadn't noticed my knife leave my belt, which really said something about the thief's abilities. But when I reached for it then, it wasn't there. Not that I would have been able to use the blade. I was too far away and on the wrong side of my family. All I could do was stand there and watch it unfold.
If I had to pinpoint the exact moment things started to go wrong, that would be it.