huddling under the blanket in case something in my expression or my pose will give away what I’ve accomplished.
There’s a scuffling noise outside, which isn’t what I’d expect. Then footsteps tramp in, accompanied by those voices—but now that I can hear them more clearly, I don’t recognize the speakers.
“Phew. Whatever they were keeping in that cage, they obviously didn’t believe in cleaning up after it.” That voice is buoyant with more warmth than I’ve ever heard any of my captors express. He must take me for just a heap of blanket, nothing living in here right now. I will my body to stay utterly still.
It doesn’t sound as if he’s bothered by the fact that my captors would have been keeping something in this cage. Even if he seems friendlier than them, that doesn’t mean he’s any kinder. Who are these people? What are they doing here?
“This doesn’t look like a room where they’d be keeping their notes stashed,” he goes on. “Or… how did Sylas put it? ‘Apparatus’?”
The voice that answers is dryly melodic but equally male. “If only Aerik and his cadre had been kind enough to leave detailed instructions posted in their front hall. It appears they’re just as irritating in this as they are in every other way.”
“I suppose it is their big secret.”
“Let’s not have any sympathy for the devils, now. Come on, we may as well have a look in this cabinet while we’re here.”
I’m still tensed, motionless, under the blanket, but the fabric has fallen so that one fold gives me a sliver of a view into the room. A man strides into view, tall with ample brawn filling out his simple tee, dark auburn hair sprouting above his broad, boyish face. As he inspects the cabinet, his eyes gleam so avidly I assume the first voice was his.
He doesn’t look menacing, despite all that powerful bulk, and his ears are smoothly rounded at the top, but my gaze catches on the black symbols inked on his skin. One follows the curve of his bicep; another partly encircles his wrist. Symbols like the tattoos all three of my captors display.
My body goes even more rigid than it already was. Whoever he is, he must be one of them. A man-who’s-not-a-man. A monster in human-like skin.
The other man saunters up beside him: even taller and equally brawny in his high-collared shirt, his tawny hair rumpled into artful disarray. Where the first man gives off an eager, youthful energy, this one is all languid, muscular poise. With the angle of his face, I can only see the corner of his smile—and an ear with a low but obvious point at its peak.
“Well, now we know where they keep some of their empty glassware and linens. No papers in there?”
The boyish one leans in to paw through the contents. “Doesn’t look like it.” He sighs and swivels on his heel with no diminishing of his upbeat energy. “So much for that. Let’s see what else they’ve stashed down here in the basement.”
The poised one holds up his hand. The edge of a tattoo spirals up across the heel to his palm. “Just a moment. There’s something…” He inhales audibly and turns—toward me.
I stop breathing completely. I am a rock. A bundle of rags. A lump of nothingness that should be of no interest to anyone.
My silent pleas have no effect. The man’s nostrils flare, and he stalks toward my cage with a purposefulness that turns my gut to water.
2
Talia
With the intruder standing right in front of my cage, I can only make out one leg in trim midnight-blue slacks through the small gap in the folds of my blanket. My body screams out for me to sink into the hard metal floor, away from him—as if I wouldn’t have done that years ago if I could.
Please, no. I was so close. Just leave, leave me alone, let me flee.
My heart is thudding so hard it nearly drowns out his dry voice.
“With all the foul smells in here I almost missed it. Take a good, deep breath, little brother, and tell me what your nose tells you.”
The other one sucks in a breath. My own breath quivers over my lips, as shallow as I can keep it.
“There’s a hint—like the tonic.” The boyish one’s voice vibrates with excitement. “And… human.” Another breath. “Female?”
Oh, no. What do I do now? The cage door—it isn’t even locked. I released the magic on the latch. Horror crawls through me with