self-righteous prick every name in the damn book. But the thought of Boots tied up somewhere, half-drained and fighting for her life, keeps me quiet.
I never, ever thought I would be in this position, bent out of shape over a girl, but here I am, silently panicking. She’s beautiful, yes, and she’s spirited, but I have had beautiful girls before. And had damn good sex before. This is something else, something deeper, something no piece of shit delinquent like me should be experiencing.
But…
Love. I’m in love with the damn Brix girl.
* * *
I close my eyes and swallow hard. “I want to talk to Millie.”
“Are you really sure you want to-”
“I’m not agreeing to anything until you put her back on.”
A pause, and then Millie’s voice comes through again. She sounds like all the strength has gone out of her. “Silas, please. I need you guys to come here.”
“What if it’s a trap?” I ask, knowing they’re listening but not caring.
Boots hesitates for just a second, but it’s enough to tell me everything I need to know. “Please,” she says at last, her voice cracking. “You guys are all I have left.”
“We need to go get her.”
“Like hell,” snaps Shade. “That has ‘trap’ written all over it.”
“I know,” I say. “We don’t have a choice.”
“Academy agents are going to be crawling all over us the minute we show up,” Landon says.
“I know,” I repeat. “But Millie’s there and I can’t leave her a second longer, and I’m going to do whatever it takes to save her.” She did the same thing for me once, I think. She barely even knew me, and she put her life on the line to save me. Now it’s my turn. Eyes flashing, I look from Shade to Landon to Hunter. “And if any of you guys feels the same way about her that I do, then you’ll do the same.”
Hunter looks at his feet while Shade and Landon exchange a glance. None of them need to use the L-word; it’s there, practically written on their faces, hanging around them in all its fullness and beauty, and they know it isn’t a discussion.
It never was.
Chapter 20
Time has lost all meaning for me. Have I spent hours strapped to this table? Days? Someone must be giving me fluids, or I’d be dead by now -- that much I’m sure of. Pain has become the centre point for my entire existence, and although god knows I’ve had plenty of time to get used to it, it hasn’t gotten any easier. It feels like my body is giving out on me, all hope of accessing my powers now long gone; the essence of my magic is now dripping into a beaker on the other side of the room, and I’m helpless to stop it.
The laboratory technician doesn’t say much during my ordeal, but Hawthorne paces restlessly at the front of the room, his hands clenching and unclenching as the gears turn in his head. He’s wondering if the guys will take the bait. To be honest, so am I. If this were a movie or TV show, I would have found some way of warning them, of encoding my words with a secret message about what waits for the guys here, but I’m barely holding together anymore, and even speaking has become an immense challenge. A horrible possibility keeps dawning on me: what if they didn’t realise the danger? What if they show up here, expecting an exchange, only to get blindsided and captured? That would be it for me, I think; there’s no way I could live with myself if I led them into danger. All I can do now is wait and hope.
Eventually, though, Hawthorne’s voice filters back to my ears. “...at the main entrance.”
“Will you go meet them?” asks the assistant.
“No,” he replies. “Hugh is on his way, along with a few of my other enforcers. I’m not taking any chances until they’re inside and prepped for the procedure.”
My heart sinks. They came after all, and by the sounds of it, not with guns blazing. I drop my head back to the exam table and squeeze my eyes shut, already bracing myself for the worst. Who would have thought the greatest torture imaginable wasn’t being drained of your life force, but having to watch the men you love walk into a trap?
“Yes, Sir.” The technician steps away from me. “Should I go prepare the other rooms?”
Hawthorne nods to him, waiting for him to scurry away