34. Dragonsbane and Desperate Measures

CHAPTER 34

Dragonsbane and Desperate Measures

R yker was losing track of time. Minutes felt like hours, and seconds dragged on.

He had never been this sore in his entire life.

His head throbbed like a mallet was beating against his skull. His eyes hurt. He was lightheaded, his limbs were aching and heavy, and a wrongness coursed through him.

He groaned, the sound muffled and wrong. His mouth was dry, and he was gagged.

Damn it all. Ryker should've been more careful.

He'd been out for a run with Marlowe when four masked men ambushed him coming out of Eleyta Park. They'd shouted something about freeing the Republic as they jumped him.

He immediately dropped the dog's leash and commanded him to run. The moment Marlowe bolted away, Ryker pulled on his magic.

He threw powerful waves at the men, forming ice daggers in his hands at the same time. Two of them fell, but the others managed to avoid his attack. They swarmed him, and one of them stabbed a needle into the back of his neck.

Ryker didn't stop fighting, sending out magic and throwing several ice daggers, but ultimately, he went down .

Abducted in plain fucking daylight.

If it weren't such a dire situation, he would've been embarrassed. He'd gotten complacent and started taking the same route for his run several months ago. He knew better, but he honestly never thought anything would happen to him.

As a child, his mother had drilled into them the importance of always staying alert, but over the years, he had relaxed and let down his guard.

He'd fucked up. He wasn't above admitting that.

A strange, bitter taste had been at the back of Ryker's mouth when he woke up. Between that and the trouble he was having thinking, he was sure he'd been drugged.

Rebel bastards.

At some point after they dragged the first man away, the captors removed the bags from their heads.

The drugs were wearing off, leaving Ryker with a pulsing headache.

At least now, he could think more clearly. He was level-headed enough to know that letting your hostages see was a bad fucking sign. Their captors didn't intend for them to leave in one piece.

Edward was gone.

Ryker wasn't sure where he'd been taken, but he hadn't returned. A few minutes ago, he'd heard a female voice calling out orders in the corridor, and then another man was dragged away.

Horatio.

The vampire had been kind to Ryker during the Choosing, and it was thanks to his suggestion that Ryker had installed the vampire-safe windows in his apartment.

The vampire had cried out, the gag muffling his protests as he struggled against the guards dragging him.

And the rebels? They'd fucking laughed , commenting amongst themselves that the silencing ward around the entire level meant no one could hear the vampire's screams anyways.

Bastards.

Ryker was kneeling, his arms and legs having long since turned numb. Uncomfortable prohiberis cuffs were clamped around his wrists, and the rope binding his arms behind his back was making matters worse. The temperature verged on freezing, and goosebumps peppered his flesh.

Four armed guards circled their group, and none of them looked friendly.

Therian kneeled a few feet away from Ryker. A massive purple bruise covered the left side of the dragon shifter's face, and his eye on that same side of his face was swollen shut.

The dragon shifter was unnaturally pale, and a cut several inches long ran down his right cheek. In addition to the prohiberis clamped around Therian's arms and legs, a metal collar that reeked of lemons and cedar was clamped around his neck.

A recessed memory worked its way to the front of Ryker's mind, a lesson from when he first joined the military.

Dragonsbane is one of the only substances known to halt a dragon shifter's magic. It's powerful. Historical examples include when the Crimson King used it against the High Lady of Life's mate. With its lemon and cedar scent, dragonsbane is instantly recognizable. It's dangerous, and prolonged exposure to the substance can permanently injure a dragon shifter, and even stop them from ever shifting again.

It was also incredibly rare.

Ryker had to give it to the rebels, they were prepared for this. Dragonsbane was even less accessible than prohiberis, yet the rebels had found enough to subdue Therian.

Ryker shifted slowly so as not to attract the rebels' attention. Not much, but enough to catch Therian's eye.

The shifter tilted his head, his blond hair dusted in grime and blood. They met each other's gazes, and Therian widened his eyes a fraction. Ryker dipped his chin.

A silent agreement: they were going to get out of here.

No matter the cost.

The opportunity to escape arose a few minutes later. Or was it half an hour?

The door creaked open, and a tall man appeared at the entrance. Light from the hallway beyond illuminated his broad frame. He radiated violence.

"Hey, the boss needs some help upstairs."

"What about them?" The guard closest to the door gestured to the group with his gun.

The newcomer scoffed. "They don't have any magic or weapons. Come on."

The guard snorted but followed his companion and another soldier into the hallway. They spoke too quietly for Ryker to hear, but if their tones were anything to go by, they were enjoying their roles as captors.

Ryker could've sworn he caught a flash of chestnut hair in the hallway before the door shut behind the men, but he wasn't sure.

The lock clicked back into place, leaving them alone once again.

If the guards thought they would be silent, willing captives, they were wrong. Taking on four guards at once while bound and lacking magic would've been suicide.

But two?

That was a manageable number.

Nine Choosing participants, including Ryker, remained in the room, and even with their bindings, they'd have a fighting chance.

Usually, he hoped for more than just a chance, but since neither Edward nor Horatio had returned, he'd take anything over whatever cruel, cold outcomes awaited them if they did nothing.

Less than a minute after the door had closed, Ryker met Therian's eye.

He spat out his gag, mouthing, This is our chance.

The corner of the dragon shifter's lips twitched, and he nodded subtly.

A few heartbeats later, Ryker witnessed first-hand why everyone in the army feared and respected the Head of the Carinoc Division.

The dragon shifter twisted his fingers behind his back. His arm muscles bulged, and then, as if the rope around his hands were nothing but floss, it snapped.

The moment the rope broke, several things happened at once.

Therian stood with a roar that shook the walls. Even with the dragonsbane blocking his beast, power rippled off the blond shifter in waves.

The two remaining guards swung their attention to Therian and raised their guns, pointing them at his chest.

"Get down, or we'll shoot," the taller one yelled.

Instead of doing that—because that was a fucking one-way ticket to death—Therian charged the rebel.

At the same time, Ryker pushed himself to his feet, throwing himself at the other guard. He slammed into him, his shoulder screaming in pain as they collided. Together, they smashed into the concrete wall.

Absolute chaos descended upon the small cell.

The others stood and fought. Guards shouted. A gun fired. Someone screamed. Something wet splattered across Ryker's bare arm. A grunt of pain came from behind him. Flesh smacked against flesh. A yell. A guttural scream. Another gunshot. A loud snap .

Then, silence blanketed the space so quickly that the quiet came as a shock.

Ryker's breath came in short bursts.

A grunt came from behind him. He tensed, balling his fists, when the rope binding his hands tightened.

"It's me," Therian said, having removed his gag, as he snapped the rope binding Ryker's hands. "Help me with the others."

Ryker's arms throbbed. With the prohiberis blocking his magic, he couldn't heal, but at least he could move.

Searing pain ran through his right shoulder as he attempted to shift his arm, and tears rushed to his eyes .

Turning, Ryker ignored his pain and untied Oliver. The witch thanked him with a grunt and went to help one of the others. When Oliver moved, Ryker got a good look at the guard Therian had rushed at.

The rebel was lying on the floor, a massive hole where his chest cavity used to be. Gods damn. There would be no coming back from that, even for a Mature being.

At least that accounted for the blood that had landed on Ryker's arm.

The other rebel was a few feet away, still hanging onto life. Jacques, the other vampire participant, had his knee pressed against the guard's neck, even though his own hands were still bound.

Ryker and Therian freed all the men from their rope bindings. They were unable to remove the prohiberis since the manacles required keys. They searched the guards for the keys but didn't find them.

Their injuries were numerous. Many of them had fought back when they were captured, and they were all bloody and bruised. In addition to Ryker's shoulder, three others had dislocated or broken arms. No one's legs were broken, though, which would make escaping easier.

A quick conversation confirmed they'd all been drugged, all their phones were missing, and no one knew where they were. The men stood, some in worse shape than others, and stared at the door.

"What now?" Philippe asked, wiping a hand across his bloody brow.

Ryker crouched in front of the unconscious guard. "Now we talk to our new friend and find out how to get out of here."

"Good plan." Therian knelt beside Ryker and gestured for Jacques to get off the rebel.

Once the vampire had moved, Therian slapped their prisoner.

The fae woke with a start. He snarled, but the sound quickly disappeared as he took in the situation.

"Fuck," the rebel breathed .

Ryker glared at the fae. "Where are we?"

The rebel clamped his mouth shut.

Of course, this wouldn't be a simple interrogation. Ryker rubbed his good hand over his face.

"Look. This has been an incredibly long night, and none of us want to hurt you." Growls rose from some of the others, disproving his point. "Just tell us."

A long moment passed as the fae's gaze swept over them all. His eyes hardened, and he clenched his jaw.

"Even if you manage to get off this level, you'll never escape. People like you are our biggest enemies. My comrades will take pride in being the ones to kill you."

"People like us?" one of the other men asked.

"Representatives," spat the guard. "You think you're so far above the rest of us that you don't even realize the trouble you cause. We're suffering while you live your lives of luxury."

Ryker recoiled at the hatred in the man's voice.

"We should just kill him and get out of here." This came from Lincoln, Death Elf and son of a Northern Representative. "He's not going to help us."

Time was ticking. Any minute now, the guards who'd left could return.

"He's right," the rebel said defiantly. "I won't help you."

Ryker exchanged a look with Therian. As the only two with military training, they'd easily slipped into leadership roles.

Therian raised a brow as if to say, your call.

Ryker was used to making tough decisions, but it didn't mean he enjoyed them. After a moment, he dipped his head.

"So be it." He grabbed the guard's gun and gripped it firmly. "I'm sorry."

The rebel's eyes flashed. "You're just proving me right. You?—"

Ryker flipped the weapon around, slamming the butt into the rebel's temples.

The guard's eyes closed, and his body slumped to the side.

"Have a nice nap," Ryker muttered .

Maybe when the rebel woke up and discovered he was still alive, his perception of the Representatives would change. It was unlikely, but… maybe.

"Grab his left arm," Ryker directed Philippe as he grabbed the right with his good arm.

Together, they maneuvered the unconscious man across the room. His feet trailed behind him, leaving a red track when they got a little too close to the dead rebel. Ryker grunted and readjusted his grip. It was uncomfortable, but he got the rebel's hand on the biometric scanner.

The door unlocked and opened with a hiss, letting a sliver of light into the space.

They dropped the guard on the ground.

Ryker turned around, addressing the rag-tag group.

"We move as one." He met the dragon shifter's gaze. "Therian, you take the back."

The captain's mind was working overtime, mapping out the most efficient way out of this mess with the limited information they'd been given. Ryker felt a kinship with the other Choosing participants and wanted to keep them safe. They weren't born of the same blood, nor were they all related to Representatives, as the rebel had erroneously assumed. Even so, they'd built connections during the Choosing and deserved to live.

The dragon shifter grunted and moved to the rear.

Ryker adjusted his grip on the weapon and dipped his head. "On three, we run."

He waited for the others to agree before he counted them down. He hit three and swung open the door, revealing a hallway. Lights dotted the ceiling like a runway, illuminating a path.

Another door was at the end, and there was a glowing biometric lock.

Ryker cursed, and they paused to retrieve the unconscious guard.

Three times, they used the rebel to unlock a door, only to find themselves in yet another hallway.

"Is this a fucking labyrinth?" someone grumbled.

The fae captain was beginning to feel the same way, although he didn't say that. One of the first rules of leadership was looking confident, even if one didn't feel that way on the inside. And inside, he wasn't calm.

He needed to get out of here. A thousand-pound weight was pressing down on his chest, and he wouldn't be able to rest until he saw Brynleigh with his own eyes.

"You'll never get out of here," the rebel fae slurred. He'd woken up sometime between the second and third door. "They'll stop you. You have no magic and two guns. What do you think you'll do?"

"We'll fight," Ryker grunted, slapping the man's hand on the next biometric lock.

That was the only option.

The door hissed open, just like all the others, but this time…

The rebel chuckled. "Told you so."