Page 268 of Scarlet Wars
I was still too stunned to speak. I could only watch as he calmly opened a portal and sent all fifteen bodies through it—one by one—into a holding cell somewhere deep beneath the Bastille.
Holy shit. Was he…onmyside?
“Caden and James?” Their names came out rough, as if I hadn’t spoken in months.
“They’re here. Also detained, which was necessary to convince the Chiefs of my ‘loyalty’ to them.” Gordon snorted. “Naïve fools.”
I blinked, my thoughts rearranging fast. “If that’s not really the case, you can let them go.”
“I will, after we’ve had a chance to talk.”
I crossed the room, with my Skindo out and stopped inches from him. I raised it to his throat, the hum of translation gathering beneath my fingertips like a promise.
“Where are they?”
“They are alive, Emma. I promise you I will bring you to them, after I speak my piece.”
I shook my head once, unwilling to risk either, any longer. “Now. Or you die without the pleasure.”
Gordon smiled. “You are stubborn. Excellent trait to have.”
Before I could respond to that weird-ass statement, he opened a window in reality—not a portal but a screen, like the one I’d watched Saoirse be murdered through—and revealed the cave beneath the Bastille.
Where I saw them.
Both hung from their wrists, arms stretched above their heads, blood pooling beneath their feet.
Caden’s head lolled forward, dark hair plastered to his blood-smeared face. His bare chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths, if you could even call them that.
James’s face was twisted in pain, blood dripping steadily from his split lip. His shirt hung in tatters, exposing the angry bruises blooming across his ribs and abdomen.
Their bodies were slack. Vulnerable.Broken.
Both unconscious, which, honestly, was a mercy considering the state they were in.
“I do apologize for their condition,” the man standing before me said lightly. “As I said, it was a necessary evil to convince the Chiefs of my loyalty to their ridiculous cause long enough for you to show up.”
I was paralyzed, my body locked up as something cold and unfamiliar cracked through my chest.
When I spoke, I didn’t sound like myself. “You let me heal them right fucking now,” I warned, each word clipped. “Or I run you through with my weapons.”
Gordon simply snorted. “If you think I can’t stop a Skindo from killing me?—”
Before he could finish, I translated the secret Caden and I had spent weeks perfecting. A red-tinged Chela materialized in my other hand, glowing like fresh blood, and I leveled its tip at his throat.
“Let’s see how well you dodge a Skindo,” I murmured, “after I’ve drained you of all your magic.”
Whatever reaction I expected him to have, it definitely wasn’t the way his eyes lit up with…pride?
My voice may have sounded a little shaky, but my command was as clear as filtered water. “I said: release them.”
“They stay where they are,” he said maddeningly even, entirely unbothered by my threats, “as insurance.”
“Insurance requires risk,” I snarled, my impatience flaring fast. “Spell out the policy.”
A flicker of amusement crossed his face. “Insurance to keep you from doing anything…impulsive before we’ve finished talking. When you and I are done, you will all be free to go.”
Right. Because men like him always honor their terms.
