Chapter 6

DARBY

Iknow I need to release the girl if I want to discover what happened to my sister, but I can't seem to pry my fingers off her neck. If I let her go, she might vanish, and then I'll never get answers.

The decision is stolen from me when I'm tackled sideways and taken to the floor. I grunt under the impact, the air leaving me in a whoosh, and I feel like I've been hit by a truck.

A glance reveals Soren's big ass is sitting on my chest, squashing me to the floor.

I don't hesitate to take out my aggression on him, the big beast of a man nearly indestructible. I twist, nailing him in the balls, then swing my elbow up into his face. The man grunts, barely twisting to the side in time to avoid a broken nose.

The fight escalates quickly, and we both do our best to pound each other into paste. The cot is destroyed in the battle, while the dresser is nothing more than kindling as it collapses under our combined weight. Though Soren has strength and size on his side, I'm fast, and my fury gives me the incentive to keep going.

Soren tries to keep me distracted, but my attention is glued to the girl, who is trying to keep out of the fight zone. The closer she gets to the door, the more my rage and anxiety increase.

With a roar, I charge at her, doing my best to leap over Soren to get to her before she can escape. She can't leave. I'm just within reach when Cassius steps between us. He presses her against the wall and hunches over her, using himself as a shield.

Right before I would have slammed into Cassius, Soren snarls then grabs me around the waist. He barrels across the room at full speed and smashes me into the wall so hard that it caves and the cinder blocks behind it crack.

My head rings from the impact. Although my body obeys my commands, it's like moving underwater as I slowly pull myself out of the hole in the wall. There is some yelling—Porter is in the middle of the room—and then I watch as Anita is tossed over Cassius' shoulder and hauled away.

When her eyes connect with mine, I expect to find fear.

My heart crumbles when I see tears instead.

That's when I know my Charlotte is gone.

I always suspected, but I refused to give up hope.

Now that's gone too.

I collapse to the ground as if all my strength has been drained, my knees cracking against the cement, but I don't feel it.

I don't feel anything at all anymore.

ANITA

Idon't fight Cassius as he hauls me out of the room. Instead, my eyes lock on Corsair, and I see the instant the truth hits him. It's like the lights go out of his eyes, then he's just gone.

My view is cut off as we head down into the main room, but I wilt in Cassius' hold, not caring where he takes me. He curses when I go limp, his grip tightening around my hips like he's afraid he might drop me. He carefully eases me down onto the couch until I'm sprawled across the cushions, then he yanks his hands away like my emotions are infectious.

Concerned, he drags his eyes over my body, as if searching for injuries. His gaze pauses on my neck, and his brows lower, his expression turning thunderous. Judging by the pain radiating from the area, I'm sure I have a pretty necklace of bruises around my throat. Even swallowing hurts. It's not until he meets my gaze that he startles, then he just stares at me. "Uh, are-are you okay?"

His voice is hesitant, like he already knows the answer, but he can't stop himself from asking. I laugh bitterly, and he winces at the caustic sound, a frown pulling down the corners of his mouth. "I don't think I'm the one you should be asking."

I turn away, quickly dashing away the tears that escape. Releasing a shuddering breath, I curl up on my side, rolling away from him. Not taking the hint, he gingerly sits on the edge of the couch, shuffling around a bit before he heaves out a sigh, then he lies down next to me and spoons me from behind.

Encased in his arms, I should feel trapped, but his tight hold actually eases the pressure in my chest. Something about his nearness is calming, and I draw in a shuddering breath.

Cassius is rigid behind me, and I feel him studying the side of my face, but when I do nothing but burrow farther into his hold, his tense frame relaxes slightly. I'd almost swear his lips brush against the back of my neck, but then I shake off that ridiculous thought.

If he knew what I'd done, what happened, then he wouldn't have stopped his friend from killing me. Most likely, he would have helped dig my grave. I don't say anything, though, needing his comfort for a few minutes just to hold myself together, afraid I might shatter into a million pieces if he lets go.

Besides, if anyone deserves to know the truth first, it's Corsair.

Darby.

I bury my head into the couch and let the tears flow—the first ones I've allowed myself to shed for my friend. It's only when voices intrude that I realize I fell asleep. I blink my eyes open, quickly scrubbing away the dried tears on my cheeks before I turn and face the room.

Three men stand across the room, doing nothing but watching me.

Hovering.

Waiting for me to wake up so they can interrogate me again.

I'm surprised I'm not in chains and waiting in some holding cell.

If they were smart, they would lock me up now and throw away the key.

When they see I'm awake, they stop talking. Awkward silence ensues for a bit. I glance around the room for Cor—Darby, but I don't see him. I push myself upright and sit at the edge of the couch with a sigh, fingering the blanket someone tossed over me. Draped over the arm of the couch is a button-down shirt, and I gratefully grab it and slip it over my head.

I stand, not looking up as I focus on the simple task of buttoning the shirt. The scent of sulfur and flowers rises from the fabric, but it's the size alone that reveals the shirt belongs to Soren. I'm drowning in it, the hem flirting with my knees, but something about the scent is like being wrapped up in his arms. I'm busy rolling up my sleeves when I finally work up the courage to look at them.

Cassius doesn't show any emotion, his expression neutral, like he didn't just hold me in his arms while I cried. Soren is bruised and battered, but he's already healing. Silver swirls in his black eyes, and my stomach knots at his concerned expression. I expected Porter to be furious at me for causing trouble within his team, but he seems almost too calm.

Like the calm before a storm.

With my family, it often meant pain. The more I resisted, the harsher the beatings. Depending on who was dishing out my punishment, it could be fists, a belt, or even magical lashes. Bracing myself, I lift my chin and wait, knowing better than to speak.

For some reason, speaking always made things worse.

It doesn't matter if I was being a smart-ass or just trying to defend myself. I pissed off my family just by breathing. From the guys' expressions, my natural talent affects them as well.

Soren's the first to break. "We're not going to hurt you."

Though his tone should be reassuring, I tense, and my muscles go rigid. I won't be fooled by his innocent act.

From my experience, people who say they won't hurt you are often the ones who hurt you the most.

It only took me one time to learn that lesson.

I glance at the door from the corner of my eye, debating my chances of escaping. Fire burns through my veins, but it's more of a low simmer rather than the normal inferno.

I'm so relieved I didn't burn out my powers that a lump forms in my throat. Unfortunately, I'm not healing fast enough for my powers to be useful now. I'm as weak as a kitten, and I curse that I'm in no condition to put up a fight.

The thought of being helpless while my family stalks me from the shadows has a shudder running down my spine.

I might as well be a jackalope surrounded by a pack of wolves.

Like an old habit, I mentally exercise my magic, forcing it into every corner of my body and filling my bones until the marrow resembles lava. My skin shines, almost like it's glowing, then I pull back and condense it until it's nearly hidden.

I do it over and over again, working my magic like a muscle.

I can't afford to be vulnerable.

I might as well slit my own throat—it would be kinder.

The simple exercise leaves me trembling under the strain, but I don't stop. I glance around for Darby, anxiety knotting in my chest when I don't see him…not that I blame him for keeping his distance. As much as I want to wallow in my grief, Charlotte deserves justice. I couldn't get it for her, but maybe he can. Either way, he deserves the truth. It's the least I can do for her after what she sacrificed. "Where's Darby?"

My voice is jagged and raspy, even to my own ears, and I wince in pain, resisting the urge to touch my throat. Attempting to talk makes it feel like I swallowed pixy dust. That shit is as sharp as diamond dust!

The guys hesitate, their expressions shuttered, then Porter shrugs, his burnt orange eyes harsh as he turns toward me. "Sure, what can it hurt? She did the damage, so she should be the one to fix it."

He doesn't wait for me, just turns and stalks down the hallway. My heart clenches at his ominous words, and I scurry to catch up with his much longer strides. It's the first time I get a good look at their place. The rooms have an empty, unlived feel to them. The furniture is basic, the bare minimum to make it livable. The walls are blank, not even a picture to decorate the surface.

No windows.

No curtains.

No rugs on the floor.

The exposed fluorescent lights are naked and bright and very unforgiving. Even the air tastes stale and recycled, giving the place a claustrophobic atmosphere.

The sterile environment isn't a home, more of a resting place between jobs.

Porter leads me to the last room down the hall. The metal door is a little intimidating, giving off vibes that warn a person to run away before the monsters on the other side can escape. Porter doesn't even knock, just grabs the knob and pushes it open.

Whatever I was expecting, it wasn't to find a tech'ers wet dream. The room is decked out with computer monitors virtually taking up a whole wall. Some of the monitors are cobbled together to reflect one large image, while others are smaller and off to the side. One thing that they have in common is that each of them has information scrolling past so fast that I can barely register the images and words before they are gone.

And in the middle of the chaos is Darby.

Something about his stillness raises the hair on the back of my neck, and I have to force my feet to enter the room. I cast an uncertain look at Porter over my shoulder, only to find the door closing shut behind him as he leaves.

Alrighty then.

I hesitantly edge into the room, coming to a stop next to Darby. He doesn't even acknowledge my presence, and my shoulders slump in dejection.

Not that I can blame him.

I reluctantly turn to look at him, and my breath catches in my lungs. The person sitting in the chair isn't Darby—it's Corsair, the tech god, as Charlotte used to call him. His eyes glow a vivid blue, and I swear I can actually see the computer monitors reflecting streams of data deep in their depths.

He's fully plugged into the system, retreating from the human world. While it's not unusual for tech'ers, the more they remain connected to the digital realm, the more they lose touch with reality.

After the news about his sister, Darby has completely checked out.

My heart shatters, knowing that I'm the one responsible for his condition. Unable to look at him, I focus on the monitors, the screens blurry from my tears. I clear my throat and tell him about the Charlotte I knew and loved.

"After a particularly nasty confrontation with my family, I crawled to my room to lick my wounds. That's when I first realized that my family was actually trying to kill me. Hmmm…I must have been seven or eight? Anyway, when I got to my room, the computer beeped and began talking to me. Messages really. Jokes mostly.

"It took weeks before she even told me her name was Charlotte. She started to help me evade my family, telling me what rooms to avoid when they were on the rampage and when to get out of the house." I release a shuddering breath and roll my shoulders, trying to ease the tension creeping up my spine. "She was an amazing tech genius. At first, I thought her family sold her. It didn't take long to figure out that the Kerringtons snatched her off the streets. She was trapped just as much as I was."

I cross my arms to stay warm, a chill taking up residence in my bones as I get lost in the past. "We were going to escape and get out together. We created these elaborate plans. I squirreled away money, even stole things from the house for cash. She helped me get names and contacts for people who could get us new identities."

I barely even notice when the screens stop moving, but I don't turn to look at Darby. I can't and still talk. "Unfortunately, there was one thing we didn't take into account."

"She was caught." Darby's voice is a low rasp that slides along my nerve endings.

I take a shuddering breath, then nod. I want to go to him and offer him comfort, but I don't think I could take his rejection again. It's all I can do to stand here and finish my story. "We didn't take into account that she wasn't the smartest tech'er on my parents' payroll. Communication with her just stopped. I was frantic. As much as I wanted to find her, I didn't have the ability. I even cornered my older cousin Stuart, trying to weasel the information out of him, but I only received a beating for my trouble."

I'm unaware that my fingers are digging into my arms until the pain brings me back. I lick my dry lips, my chest feeling tight as I continue. "After some digging, I found someone to help. I handed over the money I'd set aside. With stolen passwords and keycards from my family's companies, I snuck in to rescue her."

I scrub my eyes, wishing I could scrub away memories from that night as well. "My name allowed me to enter the company in broad daylight, and I easily slipped past security. I headed toward the restricted area, and that's when things went to shit. The tech'er I hired was the same person who caught your sister. He was setting a trap for me as well. You see, I was supposed to be caught breaking and entering and killed—a tragic accident."

I snort at the absurdity, rubbing my chest when it feels like my heart is breaking all over again. "At the last second, your sister sent me a warning—a small message on a door scanner that said, ‘Run.' She helped me escape the building by diverting security and unlocking doors. I argued with her, pleaded with her to come with me."

I swallow the knot in my throat, trying to remember how to breathe. "She said it was too late. They killed her body. The only place she exists now is in the machine. She said if I was ever her friend that I would run and live for both of us and never look back. Before I left the building, she told me I needed to destroy my phone so they couldn't track me, and I should never try to contact her again…that she couldn't protect me anymore."

I stare blindly down at the floor, the weight of my failures heavy on my shoulders. "Over the years, I've tried to go back for her. I paid hackers for information on her. I purchased spells from mages to get her out of the machine and transfer her somewhere safe. Only, no one could find anything about her. It's like she disappeared."

I clench my fists at my sides, turning to glare at him. "That hacker, the one with the laugh—he calls himself Jackal. He's been stalking me since I left. Although it's stupid, I like to think your sister is still alive somewhere, helping me from the inside by erasing me from the system, but maybe that's just wishful thinking on my part and she was assimilated into the system a long time ago."

Darby searches my face like he's not sure he believes me, but a spark of hope gives his eyes life once more.

"It's been five years since I last saw any sign of Charlotte. I stopped trying to get her out when I realized that by trying to protect me, I was just exposing her to Jackal. He was weeding her out of the system and systematically erasing her." I rub the spot between my eyes, but it does nothing to relieve the tension. My next words are barely audible. "If I thought it would help, I would trade my freedom for hers in an instant."

Before he has a chance to say anything, the computers beep. He glances away, quickly scanning the monitors, then swears. "You need to go."

I flinch at his harsh tone, stumbling back when his anger slams into me. I swallow hard, the hollow sensation in my chest threatening to consume me. His fury is nothing more than what I deserve, but it leaves me completely gutted.

I back away as he angrily smashes buttons on the keyboard. The monitors flicker, fill with static, then go dark. Darby leaps out of the chair and storms toward me, and it's all I can do not to flinch.

Instead of hitting me as I expected, he grabs my arm and drags me from the room. "We have to hurry. Your family is upstairs and demanding the return of their long-lost, beloved daughter."

When his words catch up to my brain, I find myself sprinting with him. We burst into the main room, and the rest of the guys straighten abruptly.

"We need to bug out."

The guys scatter, none of them questioning Darby as they disappear…only to return less than a minute later with bags slung over their shoulders. I feel lost and more than a little anxious at the thought of them leaving me.

I bite my lip, shifting from foot to foot, wondering if I should try to make a run for it. It would be futile but better than giving up without a fight. Just when I take a step to leave, the rest of the guys gather around me, blocking my escape.

Porter looks at Darby with an inscrutable expression on his face. "We're taking her with us?"

Darby nods once, crowding closer, and I notice both Soren and Cassius relax. Before I can ask how we're going to get out of here alive—and maybe ask for pants so my ass isn't hanging out in the breeze—the guys move closer, each reaching out to grab the other's shoulders. Darby wraps his arms around my waist, and I squeak when I find my back plastered against his chest.

I don't have a chance to protest, the air stolen from my lungs as the shadows around the room explode outwards and I find myself free-falling in darkness.