Silver Shadows Page 68


My heart leapt, and a hope I hadn’t felt in ages filled me anew. “Adrian?”

Immediately, my hope dimmed. Suspicion born of weeks living in paranoia kicked in. This was a trick! It had to be a trick. I’d lost contact with Adrian. He couldn’t have found me already. He couldn’t have broken in here. This was probably the latest in a long line of Alchemist tricks to try to mess with my mind . . . and yet, when I heard his voice again, I was certain it was him.

“What the hell have you done to her?”

I wanted to see him, but the restraints wouldn’t allow it. What I did see was Grayson pull what looked like a gun from his side and aim. That was as far as he got before the gun literally flew out of his hand and landed across the room. He gaped in disbelief. “What evil is—”

Someone who looked very much like Eddie came barreling into the dark room, knocking Grayson off his feet. They fell out of my line of sight, and suddenly, my vision was filled with the most beautiful image I could have hoped for: Adrian.

For a few seconds, that doubt plagued me again, that this was just one more deception on the Alchemists’ part. But no, there he was before me. Adrian. My Adrian, gazing down with those piercing green eyes. I felt an ache in my chest as emotion momentarily overcame me. Adrian. Adrian was here, and I fumbled to find something to say, some way to convey all the love and hope and fear that had built within me these last few months.

“Are you in a suit?” I managed at last, my voice choking up. “You didn’t have to dress up for me.”

“Quiet, Sage,” he said. “I’ll make the hilarious one-liners during this daring rescue.” His eyes, warm and full of love, held mine for a moment, and I thought I would melt. Then they narrowed with determination as he focused on the various restraints holding me. “What in God’s name is this? Something from the Middle Ages? Does it need a key?” Meanwhile, in the background, Eddie and Grayson continued throwing each other around.

“I’ve never seen them use one,” I told Adrian.

It took him a few tries, but he finally figured out how to undo one restraint. Once he had the knack, the rest soon followed, and I was free. Adrian carefully helped me sit up, and I was just in time to see Eddie pin Grayson to the floor in one of the spotlights. Eddie pointed a gun at the back of his head, which surprised me at first, but even in the poor lighting, I could tell there was something unusual about that gun.

“Get up,” said Eddie, rising off his victim. “Slowly. And put your hands on your head.”

“I’d rather die a fiery death than be the prisoner of some evil creature of hell!” retorted Grayson, though he still complied.

“Rest easy, we’re not taking you prisoner,” said Adrian. “We’re saving your dumb ass so that you can go join the rest of your lame colleagues.”

Eddie peered around. “Think there are any kind of restraints for him around here?”

“I’m sure of it,” I said. I started to get off the table, but a wave of dizziness hit me. I turned to Adrian. “Check the sides of the room. That’s where the supplies will be.”

Adrian hurried off to look and first found something equally useful: a master control switch that turned on lights throughout the room. It made me squint after so long in the dark, but the added visibility soon allowed him to find shelves full of supplies, including some zip-ties that he used on Grayson. Various chemicals and controls were also on the shelves, along with chairs and night vision goggles so that other Alchemists could watch the torture show when the lights were off. It disgusted me, and I had to avert my eyes.

“Can you walk?” Adrian asked me.

“Eventually,” I said.

He slid an arm around me, and my legs threatened to give out. His strength, both physically and mentally, empowered me, and I was able to make slow progress out of the room with his help. Eddie moved ahead of us, marching Grayson at a brisker pace. When we reached the halls, which also had alarms but no sign of a fire, Eddie turned to his prisoner.

“Which is the other occupied room?” When Grayson didn’t respond, Eddie glared and got into his face. “Come on! We’re trying to save your colleague here.”

“I’d rather die than forsake my duty or ask for your help,” snarled Grayson.

Eddie sighed and handed Adrian his gun. “Keep it on him while I check the rooms out.”

I was pretty sure Adrian had never used any sort of gun in his life, but he managed to look pretty convincing as he kept this one trained on Grayson. I leaned against the wall and watched as Eddie scanned an ID badge at each door, opened it, and looked inside. On his third attempt, I saw him lunge into a room. I couldn’t see what happened but could hear the sounds of altercation.

Adrian glanced down at me, a frown creasing his forehead as he assessed my worn appearance more closely. Whatever strides I’d made after leaving solitary confinement had probably been diminished with my recent captivity. “You haven’t been telling the truth. All those times I asked what else they were doing to you—”

“I wasn’t lying,” I said, averting my eyes.

“You just didn’t tell me,” he said. “When was the last time you ate?”

I was spared an answer when Eddie came out with another Alchemist at gunpoint. This time, Eddie definitely had a real gun, so I assumed he’d disarmed the guy in the room.

“Zip-tie this guy,” Eddie told Adrian, “and go release the girl in there since you’re a pro at those tables. I couldn’t make heads or tails of it.”

I gave an encouraging nod to Adrian, who looked reluctant to leave me. After binding the second Alchemist, Adrian disappeared into the room. I glanced at Eddie. “Are you sure there’s not a fire? The alarms are still going off.”

“Oh, yeah,” said Eddie, “there’s definitely a fire. We’re just counting on it not reaching us since it’s a few floors up. At least, it was.”

I turned his words over in my head, making sure I truly understood them and wasn’t just mishearing things in my bedraggled state. I was actually pretty sure I could smell smoke but wasn’t certain if that was just my imagination. A minute or so later, Adrian came out of the room supporting a girl a little older than me, dressed in the same tan scrubs. My first thought when I saw her was: Do I look that bad? No, I decided, there was no way. I looked pretty bad, I knew, but something about her told me she’d been there much, much longer than I had. Her face was gaunt and pale beneath what looked like normally tanned skin. Her scrubs were a size too big, suggesting she’d lost considerable weight since first getting them, and her black hair was limp and in bad need of a thorough scrubbing and a haircut. She reminded me of how I’d looked coming out of solitary, only ten times worse. I hadn’t been on this level for long and had enjoyed the benefit of food and sleep for the last few weeks.

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