Trapped (The Condemned Series #1) - Alison Aimes Page 0,64

happened at a worse time.

“We’re no one’s enemies,” she said. “We’re on your side.”

“Then why’d you pick off Davies and Pratt?” barked Pogue.

“We didn’t do anything to them.”

“Remove the gun aimed at Bella.” As always, Caine sounded in complete control. “We can answer your questions and resolve this without anyone getting hurt.”

She knew he was holding back from fighting in an effort to protect her.

“Put your hands behind your back.” Pogue’s voice was brusque.

“I will, as a gesture of good faith.” Caine’s muscles bunched as he did as requested. “I expect you to behave accordingly with Bella.”

Pogue said nothing. Uncertainty skittered through her. Were they doing the right thing by trying to talk some sense into Winthrop, Pogue, and the others? It hadn’t worked so far. But finding Ava was more likely with their help and, equally significant, there was no getting Caine off this hellhole if they didn’t have the support of at least Winthrop.

“You see, Dr. Winthrop?” She purposely directed her attention to him. “Caine is cooperating. He’s on our side.”

Winthrop nodded, but he didn’t speak. One of the soldiers stepped forward and snapped a pair of Council restraints on Caine’s wrists. As usual, the restraints expanded, encasing Caine’s arms from wrist to forearm.

“Feel familiar, convict?” mocked Pogue.

“Don’t talk to him like that.” Bella could barely breathe over the dread coursing through her. Appeasement wasn’t calming Pogue. In fact, it seemed to be having the opposite effect. “He’d done what you wanted. Now back off and let us explain.”

“You’re right, Bella,” mocked Pogue. “I apologize for talking to your precious convict like that.” Without warning, he slammed the barrel of his gun between Caine’s shoulder blades. “He understands violence better.”

“No!” She leapt forward, only to be snapped back as Mitchell, Pogue’s second-in-command, wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her off the ground.

But if they thought that was all it would take, they were mistaken. Using Caine’s training, she curled into a squat, dragging the bastard off balance, and smashed her boot down on his foot. His arms fell away on a howl.

“I said get away from him.” She ran at Pogue. The time for appeasement had come to an end. But, just as she reached him, she was knocked off-course, lifted sideways by an enraged Mitchell and another soldier.

She heard Caine’s roar. Heard the shout of other soldiers and the crunch of bone as Caine fought to get to her, but it was no use. They had guns. His arms were restrained behind his back. And her training wasn’t enough against a greater number of skilled soldiers. Even fighting like a madwoman, channeling Caine’s techniques, lips pulled back in a sneer, she was soon contained.

Her breath came in furious pants as Mitchell wrapped her in a bear hug and the other soldier grasped her legs, holding her off the ground, restrained between them. She could do little more than wriggle. And blink as the slow drip of blood from a new cut seeped into her eye. Or maybe the blood was from Mitchell? She’d definitely gotten in a few good strikes.

But it hadn’t been enough.

Her heart shriveled as she took in Caine. Unlike her, he’d been winning. There were a few new bruises on his face and chest, but he stood tall and free around a ring of writhing, fallen soldiers. Pogue, unfortunately, wasn’t one of them.

“Don’t hurt her.” Caine had stopped fighting.

“Go, Caine. Run,” she screamed.

But the stubborn man remained where he was. “I won’t fight back. Just don’t hurt her.”

“Worry for yourself.” Eyes glittering with fury, Pogue drove his gun barrel into Caine, driving him to his knees.

“Stop it!” She bucked against Mitchell’s hold, wanting to tear apart every soldier there with her bare hands.

“Maybe you should have thought of that before you fought back?” Pogue drew his boot back and kicked Caine in the stomach, the kick so hard it sent Caine sliding back several lengths.

The other soldiers stumbled to their feet, uncertain, their expressions ranging from discomfort to glee.

“Winthrop, order him to stop.” She searched for the Councilman she’d once admired in the light of the glow sticks and found him standing frozen, a look of horror on his face. “Caine was helping me look for Ava. He’s only ever tried to help.” This was her fault. She’d brought Caine into contact with these monsters. “You’re beating an innocent man.”

Winthrop shifted his weight from one boot to the next, his expression uncertain. Afraid. As if without protocol, without the trappings of Command