Chapter 12

Bailey

Freya and I stood outside the town jail. It was a warm afternoon, but since we were over a week into September, it didn’t feel as brutal as it had during the previous months. Still, we stood under the shade of a mulberry tree to avoid the direct sun rays while we waited.

“Are you sure about using this woman?” Freya asked, glancing at me. She had her long, blonde hair in an intricate braid looped around her head, wore black camrium that hugged her strong yet feminine figure, and a sour expression twisted her beautiful face.

We’d arrived a few minutes ago with the shifter female shooting me skeptical looks the whole time. She didn’t particularly appreciate my plan. Every sorcerer was tied up for one reason or another despite me pleading with many of them for assistance, including all the ones at the fortress. I’d even tried Verena, but the woman—who I still found rather untrustworthy despite saving me years ago—had gone south to help extend the shield through Faegud territory. No one expected her back for a few days.

I’d hoped Danae could have assisted us, but she had a sprained ankle and numerous gashes from the explosion. As a healer, she would recover faster than a regular human, but she was also using all her energy to help the other wounded. It was draining her. I couldn’t ask her to do more, no matter the urgency. To top it off, Javier and his people still weren’t back from their shield work after two days of waiting for them. They were concentrating on some of the farthest points in northern Oklahoma that required more extended travel, so it could take several more days before they returned. Finally, at my wits’ end, I had to take drastic measures since we couldn’t delay the mission anymore.

I shrugged. “We don’t have a choice and just have to hope this works.”

A black Friesian horse appeared up the road with a female rider on his bare back. Onyx was moving at a canter with his long mane and tail blowing in the breeze. It was the most majestic horse I’d ever seen, and it had an attitude to go with it. Conrad could testify to that.

Rayna sat on top of him with her coppery-brown hair falling loose a few inches past her shoulders, and she wore black camrium clothes that showed off her toned body. She looked relaxed as she rode toward us, as if the world's fate didn’t hang in the balance right now. I’d never seen a slayer with a more carefree spirit than her and wondered how she did it.

I waved. “Thanks for coming.”

“No problem.” Rayna dismounted and let the horse wander to graze on some nearby grass. “I didn’t have anything else important to do today anyway.”

Rayna was an underutilized asset because of her background. Too many people distrusted her and found her suspicious, so most wouldn’t ask for her help. Even Aidan didn’t assign her tasks despite being short-handed for all he needed to be done. She didn’t deserve that sort of treatment since she’d proven herself already—at least to some of us. But of course, it had taken me a long time to win over the shifters and people of Norman, too, so it wasn’t a surprise.

The sorcerers were allowing her to fuel the barrier spell with power a couple of times a week, but otherwise, she just had to slay dragons often enough to keep the killing urge at bay. It left her with little else to do as we waited for the Kandoran invasion.

One day, when I’d dropped by Conrad’s house—the same place where Aidan and I used to live together—I caught Rayna reading a romance novel. It served as her home as well for the time being. There she had sat, comfy in a chair by the window, engrossed with the book in her hand. She’d mentioned it was the only way she got any spice in her life. I couldn’t imagine her loneliness with no friends or family nearby, and she didn’t get out to socialize often either.

Freya grimaced. “You’re a slayer. Can you even remove black magic from humans?”

Rayna sighed and rolled her eyes. “I’m also a sorceress—as I keep reminding everyone. Maybe I don’t have as much power as some people, but it’s a basic spell. I’ve extracted dark magic infections several times without a hitch.”

“If it’s too hard for you to trust her,” I said, putting a hand on Freya’s arm. “Then trust me. Rayna has had my back numerous times and wants to help. She can do this.”

“Fine. Let’s go inside.” The shifter spun on her heels and jerked the blue metal door open.

It was surprisingly cooler inside. We followed a corridor with white tiles and beige walls until we hit the wing with the jail cells. A mid-thirties human guard in jeans and a black T-shirt with a pistol holstered at his belt stood at the barred entry and snapped his attention toward us as we approached. I recognized him from my previous visit. He ran his gaze over our group, each of us revealing our torsos to show we were uninfected, before settling on me.

“I have orders to let you inside,” he said, glancing at the sturdy black door behind him that could have doubled for a bank vault. “But I have to log the names of everyone who enters and what you plan to do while you’re here.”

It was standard procedure, and I appreciated the security precautions. “I’ve got a sorceress to extract the dark magic from the prisoners. Then we’ll question them, but no promises about how that goes. There could be some dead bodies at the end.”

I didn’t see a point in sugarcoating what we planned to do.

“Fine by me. We’re used to that sort of thing lately.” He pointed at a small table with a clipboard a few feet away. “Just sign in first.”

I almost laughed. As long as we filled out the necessary paperwork, we could torture prisoners, and no one would bat an eyelash. Of course, these were extenuating circumstances. Normal humans had more rights.

I wrote my name and then our reason for visiting. While Rayna and Freya took their turn—the shifter pulling a special pen from shiggara—I returned my attention to the guard. “Have they caused much trouble?”

“Oh, yeah. They’ve been loud, banging on the bars and shouting threats about how we’re all going to die.” He shrugged. “Nothing I haven’t heard before.”

He’d clearly grown blasé about the situation, which made me wonder how many infected humans had been captured in recent weeks. Javier had set up the town’s jail before all that started, but he must have taken great care choosing who worked at the facility to ensure the guards didn’t get rattled easily. The sorcerer had an uncanny knack for being prepared for anything and ensuring his people were as well.

“Did they cause any damage?” I asked, casting a worried glance at the heavy door.

He grimaced. “The bars are a little bent for one cell. I’m willing to bet that guy has been infected longer than his buddies. Enhanced strength is a red flag that they’re close or past saving.” He shuddered. “I’m glad we don’t get too many of those because they’re the worst.”

I’d noticed the same thing when we captured them and knew which prisoner he meant, but the man still wasn’t a match for a slayer, so I didn’t worry too much.

“With luck, this won’t take long or get too out of hand.”

He rubbed his hand through his spiky brown hair. “Yeah. I hope so.”

We waited for him to undo several locks and bolts before opening the door. Two more guards stood inside at the opposite end, straightening as we entered. I stepped inside and scanned the prison wing, trying not to shudder at the pervading evilness that thickened the air, along with the stench of urine and feces.

A shudder ran through me.

The room contained four cells on each side of the corridor, for a total of eight. Five of them had prisoners in them, though only three were ours. They were in the spots closest to us. The whole space was cold and barren, and there was a lack of furniture or other comforts for the infected inmates. Only a bucket and a water bottle sat inside those cells. They appeared clean, though bleach could only hide so much of the underlying scents emanating from their waste containers.

I wrinkled my nose and forced myself to take shallow breaths.

Each prisoner was confined within large gray cinderblock walls with thick, black-barred gates at the front. All three appeared quite agitated as they paced their six-by-eight-foot cells. One on the right had bent the bars enough he could almost get his head through, leaving me uneasy about what we would face handling him. That took some serious strength I doubt I could have managed.

Rayna furrowed her brows as she noticed the same thing as me. “That’s not good.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Maybe we should knock them out before you do your thing just to be safe.”

“Yes. Let’s do that.”

I reached into a pouch attached to my leg harness, where I had some extra sleeping potion vials we’d used a couple of days before to transport the prisoners. Javier’s people had given them to me, anticipating I’d need them again. I was glad for their foresight.

Pulling the vials out, I gave Freya and Rayna one each. “Let’s get this done quickly.”

I turned toward the cell on my right, facing the worst guy. His eyes reddened as he spotted what I held in my hand. He growled and scrambled toward the back of his cell, plastering himself to the wall. He had no intention of making this easy.

Testing him, I pretended to toss the liquid spell his way. Sure enough, he dodged where I aimed. I would have missed and been in trouble since it would have splattered the wall where it struck, rendering it useless. At least half the contents needed to touch his skin, so I needed to be sure of my aim. We couldn’t afford to waste any.

“Hey, Freya,” I called over my shoulder. “Looks like we’ll need the guns after all.”

Camrium gloves appeared on her hands. Next, she pulled the three water pistols she’d stored in shiggara and tossed me a purple one. “These look like fun toys.”

Cheap plastic would melt fast in her grip, so we’d considered that in our planning.

“Got one for me?” Rayna asked, lifting a brow. She had the prisoner in the cell next to Freya’s target, who crouched in the middle of the floor as if ready to play dodgeball.

The female shifter scowled and tossed a pistol to her. “Pasty pink suits you.”

“As long as it gets the job done.”

Sometimes, I wondered if she had steel walls protecting her feelings. Rayna did her best to never let anyone or anything get to her. At least that I’d ever seen.

Unplugging the top hole in mine, I carefully poured the potion into the squirt gun. The night before, it struck me that we might need an alternate plan for administering the liquid. These people were human, and I wanted to avoid hurting them if possible. It was bad enough they got banged up when we captured them.

I acquired my plastic weapons from one of Javier’s storage facilities after a bit of work convincing his acolytes to allow me to take them. I tested them beforehand with regular water to be sure they would work when needed. Cheap toys like these could be unreliable, and I wouldn’t take any chances.

My target’s eyes rounded when I aimed the gun at him, and then his expression turned to rage. “Let us go, or you’ll regret it.”

His voice came out raspy like a demon had inhabited his body. Had the dark magic spread faster during his incarceration? If it had taken too strong of a hold, we’d have no choice except to put him down.

I prayed it wouldn’t come to that. These guys appeared terrible now and the evil wafting from them seared all my senses, but they were likely innocent and didn’t deserve such a fate—not if I could help it.

“Nice try, but that’s not gonna happen.”

I aimed carefully and started spraying him. He dodged the first bit, but I adjusted my aim and nailed him on the neck and face. The guy moved again. My quick reflexes were handy as I maneuvered with him until most of the liquidhit his skin. He was down a moment later, lying prone on the cement floor.

Wiping my brow, I checked on the others. Freya and Rayna had taken care of their prisoners as well, both in an awkward sprawl. Still, I worried one or more could be faking.

“Think they’re really asleep?” I asked the female shifter.

She nodded. “Their heartbeats have slowed like the last time we used the potion.”

I let out a breath. “Good.”

Rayna gestured at the guards at the end of the corridor. “Can you open this one first?”

One of the men—a tall guy in his late twenties—approached cautiously. After peering inside the cell door and getting a close look, he pulled out a ring of keys. His hands shook a little, which made me wonder if he’d been here for whatever trouble the prisoners had caused. Hopefully, we’d cure them, and he wouldn’t have to worry anymore.

He opened the door and swiftly took a step back.

“Don’t worry,” Rayna said with a gentle smile. “I wouldn’t let him hurt you.”

“Are you a slayer?” he asked, eyes rounding.

She nodded.

“Wish I’d been born one,” he sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Life would be easier.”

I shook my head. “No, it wouldn’t.”

“She’s right,” Rayna agreed, a hint of misery flashing in her gaze before she covered it. “We can’t get sick or die of old age, but we’re hard-wired to put ourselves in danger all the time. Our life expectancy is pathetically low compared to normal people. It’s not worth the tradeoff.”

It was a rare admission from her on how she felt about her job.

The guard cleared his throat. “Sorry. I didn’t realize.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Rayna’s expression went back to business as usual. She turned and entered the cell to crouch over the sleeping man. He didn’t stir in any way as she lifted his shirt. “Based on your description before, it looks like the infection dug in deeper over the last couple of days.”

Even from my vantage point, I could see that. His chest and stomach were covered in black spider veins. The way the spell worked, one had to be close to feel it, but I’d been sensing the malevolence since we entered the prison ward. That wasn’t a good sign.

“Think you can still cure him?” I asked.

Rayna’s brows knitted. “I think so, but it will take longer than I’d like.”

By my estimation, we had about an hour before the prisoners woke up.

“Do the best you can,” I said.

She pressed her palms over the central point of the infection, and a glow began to form. Her shoulders tensed, and a look of concentration came over her face as she worked, coppery brown strands of hair falling over her eyes.

Freya paced the corridor, glancing inside the cell with each pass. I could see the doubt in her expression, but she kept silent. The shifter had to know this was our best shot. We needed information on the rest of the group as soon as possible before they hurt anyone else.

A clock above the door at the end of the corridor kept the time for me. I counted as the minutes passed. After ten, I noted Rayna’s brows had sweat beading on them, and she began to breathe hard. She specialized in lightning and telepathy, but all sorcerers could do some rudimentary spells with their magic. It would exhaust her more because she’d likely have to borrow from her slayer strength to pull off curing three prisoners in one afternoon.

I felt bad for asking her, but she’d told me when I approached her that she was dying to do something useful. Helping people seemed to genuinely matter to her.

Two minutes later, she sat back on her heels and wiped her forehead. “It’s done, but if he’d been even a little worse, I doubt any sorcerer could have fixed him.”

I noted that the man’s skin was clear of all blemishes, though a bit pale. He’d be sick for a couple of days. I’d been told the body still had to flush out some remaining toxins from the spells, and those who were cured usually behaved out of sorts for a while. Their memories from their time while under the influence of dark magic were clearest in the first few days—often causing a lot of shock—before fading to almost nothing.

“Take a minute,” Freya said, sounding a little kinder toward the slayer. “But then you have to get to the next one.”

Maybe there was hope that the female shifter would warm to Rayna.

“I’ve still got plenty of juice. Finding and eradicating the magic is complicated because it spreads as far and deep as possible. I must ensure I get every little bit, or it can return.”

I’d heard that from the other sorcerers as well.

The slayer slowly rose to her feet, and the guard came forward to lock the cell before moving to open the next one. We wouldn’t let the men free until they were questioned and entirely back to themselves. They’d stay here in the meantime, especially since we couldn’t be sure they hadn’t been up to no good before they got infected.

Rayna started on the next man, who didn’t appear as bad as the first. She managed to finish with him in eight minutes, which, according to her, was still a long time compared to catching an infected person early.

We shifted our attention to the final cell with the guy I’d knocked out with the potion. Rayna went inside and lifted his shirt. His torso was covered with more black veins than I’d ever seen on someone tainted with dark magic. Even before she shook her head, I knew her response wouldn’t be good.

“It’s too late for this one,” she said with a sigh. “He was probably the first guy infected in their group and spread it to everyone else.”

Grim looks came over our faces as Freya and I entered the cell. If you couldn’t cure the person, they had to be executed. There was no choice in the matter. None of us liked it, but we knew it had to be done and preferably before the others woke up.

I drew my sword since he was technically mine. Freya grabbed his oily brown hair and lifted him enough to give me a clear angle. I took a deep breath, trying not to think about the innocent human inside who was already lost, and cut through the man’s neck in one stroke.

That was only the first step. We worked together to relocate the two pieces outside to a burn pit usually reserved for trash. The shifter blew flames to incinerate them since one could never be too careful with dark magic, rather than us lighting a normal fire.

By the time we finished, we only had a few minutes to clean up before the other two would wake. Thankfully, the jail had a bathroom and running water for us to use. Then, we waited for our prisoners to rise while standing outside their cells. At least the sense of malevolence had gone away, and only despair remained.

Rayna’s woke first, foggy eyes opening where he lay sprawled on the ground. His fingers twitched, and then he rubbed his face as he moaned. We hovered a few feet away, watching as he took in the three of us and his surroundings. A shudder ran through his body. We gave him another minute as various expressions ran across his face, including shock, horror, and fear. I could only imagine what he’d been through.

A moment later, he pitched to the side and threw up in the bucket set in the corner.

He wiped his mouth with his shirt sleeve after he finished, turning to meet my gaze. “What’s going on?”

Rayna handed him a bottle of water.

“You were infected with dark magic,” I said, guessing he chose to ask me because I was the easiest to recognize from our group. “We got it out of you, but it will be a few days until you fully return to yourself.”

He took a drink. “My friends?”

“The skinny guy should be waking soon, but the big, tall one didn’t make it,” Rayna said, giving him a sympathetic look. “We did what we could. Sorry.”

He didn’t need the gory details, so I was glad she left those out.

The man shook his head. “Nigel was always a little off, but lately, he was acting extra crazy. I don't know why I stayed around him since I didn’tlike him.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Well, some of us aren’t fans of dragons—any kind.” He scowled at Freya since her yellow eyes gave her away. “But I’d never hurt humans to make a point. The next thing I knew, I was following Nigel to do exactly that, and it didn’t even bother me. How is that possible?”

I gave him a brief explanation about dark magic and what it could do to people. Time was running out since we couldn’t know if another attack might be imminent. The other guy was waking, so Freya and Rayna went to handle him. I kneeled next to my prisoner, trying to show him a little kindness since I could tell he was starting to panic.

“Look, I get that this is scary. You’re going to be stuck here for a few days until we’re certain the dark magic is clear, and you’re back to full health.” A couple of times, the removal on people hadn’t held, and the dark magic reemerged ten times worse. We didn’t take any chances since then. “But we need you to tell us who else you worked with and if they have more attacks planned soon.”

“There’s ten more people in our group,” he said, running his fingers through his hair. “We had another bombing planned for…what day is it?”

I answered him.

His eyes rounded. “It will be tonight.”

“Where?”

“The Sooner Mall.”

Shit , I swore inwardly. It was one of the places we’d designated for storing supplies we’d need when the Kandoran attacked. There was extra food, ammo, medicine, and a lot of other helpful items. We had sealed off all except two entrances to the mall, making it easier to guard. At the current time of day, there might be at least half a dozen people between those adding provisions and those pulling security.

“What time?” I asked.

“Seven.”

That’s when the shifters were scheduled to bring more food from the fortress, spelled to preserve it. We expected the war to last weeks—if not months—and wanted to ensure there’d be a way to feed our combatants during that whole period. It sounded like this group was working to destroy our supplies, along with some of the dragons on our side. That would undermine everything. I had to give the Kandoran credit for trying to weaken us in every way they could before fully striking.

I ground my teeth. “How do they plan to do it?”

“All three bombs are already in place there. They’re just waiting for the best moment to…” he shrugged.

“Kill some shifters as well?”

He cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah.”

“It’s gotta be a big explosion to destroy the supplies and take down the dragons,” I pointed out.

“I’m afraid so.” He looked genuinely remorseful. “Think of the Murrah Building, and it’s like that.”

I swore under my breath. Back in 1995, terrorists had used fertilizer and other ingredients to bomb a federal building in Oklahoma City. It destroyed a massive chunk of the structure and took a hundred and sixty-eight lives. People felt the explosion from miles away. If this group had something similar planned, it would demolish one of our crucial staging areas.

Leaning my head outside the cell, I called for the guards to bring a notebook and pen. A moment later, they handed over my requested items. I supposed they’d heard the conversation and didn’t want to waste time.

For the next thirty minutes, I wrote down every detail the guy could recall. Meanwhile, Rayna and Freya managed to get some extra information from their prisoner that would help as well. It was almost three in the afternoon by the time we finished, and we rushed out of there, knowing we’d have to act fast.