Page 373 of Hunters and Prey

Chapter 9

How had we let our guard down so completely that we hadn’t heard the guards coming in time? And why the heck were they just standing there, staring at us. My body had gone into high-alert mode, my mind on the daggers tucked into my boots, daggers I’d happily use to slit the Bloods’ throats before they could scream, except they weren’t making any kind of move, auditory or otherwise.

Dante had gone deathly still, but I could sense the activity going on inside his mind. He was ready for action, he just needed to know what move to make, and to do that he needed the Bloods to react. He cut an imposing figure, his frame larger and more powerful than the two Bloods. Hand-to-hand, he’d win, no question. But my gut told me Dante would employ magic, and that would drain his ink and put us at a disadvantage tomorrow night. Not that it looked like there would be a tomorrow night for us. Damn, I missed Jezebel.

The initial surprise had melted off the guards’ faces. Shoulders came down as they relaxed; it was obvious they weren’t expecting to rumble. Instead, they exchanged glances, and some silent communication passed between them. One of them closed the door and flipped the lock.

Dante slid me a quick glance, and I shook my head slightly in a wait-for-it-gesture.

“Who let you out?” the guard furthest from the door asked calmly. “Was it Sophia?” When we didn’t respond, he took it as a yes. “Of course it was. Dammit, we told her to wait. We told her we had it under control and not to say anything to the prisoners.” He sighed. “Young-’uns have no patience.”

Strange coming from him, because he looked no older than twenty or twenty-one. His hair flopped about on his forehead in agitation every time he moved his head, adding a comical air to his demeanor.

Dante’s shoulders rippled beneath his shirt, muscles knitting and then relaxing. But he didn’t speak. He was waiting for more information. Smart move.

The Blood who’d shut the door ran a hand over his face. “We need to get them back to their cell,” he said to floppy hair guy. “If the commander’s men find them missing it’ll fuck everything up.”

His companion was already at the monitor, punching buttons. His tongue peeked out from between his lips as he concentrated. He pulled up the map we’d just been poring over and studied it. Another short sequence of buttons and our cell room flashed up. He hit several more buttons and the cameras went offline. Had he noticed the magical imprint Dante had left? Probably not, because he’d have commented otherwise.

“Buddy, get them back to their cell,” he said, and then to us, “We’re going to get you out of here, trust me. You just need to hold out a little bit longer. You can’t make dumb moves like this, it’ll mess everything up. We have it under control. I promise you, the resistance won’t rest until Gustov is brought to his knees.”

The resistance? Was that what Sophia had meant when she’d said not everyone was happy with the way the Bloods were doing things? Was that why she’d been so tight-lipped when I’d pushed? What had she said? Oh yes, just stay alive. Alive meant there was hope of escape.

“When and how?” Dante asked calmly, arms crossed over his chest as if he’d been aware of the resistance’s existence all along.

How the heck did he pull it off? Not a flinch, not a twitch on his face. To look at him, you’d think he’d been in cahoots with them from the start.

“Soon. We’ll get a message to you when it’s time. Just hang in there,” Buddy said.

“What about the Dreki you have locked away?” Dante asked.

The floppy-haired Blood by the monitor blinked in surprise. “What about it?”

“Are you going to set it free too?” This time there was an edge to his tone.

The Blood sighed. “You studied the schematics of the complex. It’s one thing staging a power cut to allow a bunch of Skins to escape, it’s another letting a Dreki out of a restricted sublevel of the complex.”

So, they were going to cut the power. It would disable the collars and release the cage doors. Every swipe door would be open to us. We could fight our way out, but we’d need weapons. I opened my mouth to ask all these questions, but Dante beat me to it, except he was still focused on his brother.

“What is Gustov planning to do with him?” Dante asked Buddy.

Buddy frowned. “With the Dreki?” He shrugged. “I have no idea. Right now, we’re doing our best to stop his experimentations on your kind. It took some time, but we finally know the truth. We know what’s coming, and we know which side needs to win. We need to stop him, and to do that, we need to take away his ammunition, and right now, that ammunition is the Skins.”

“We’ll need weapons,” I added. “Once you cut the power, we’ll need weapons to fight our way out.”

The Blood by the computer grinned, his boyish face made even younger by the smile. “We’ve got you covered.”

Buddy ushered us toward the door. “Quick, we need to leave now before patrol does a sweep of the area.”

Dante slipped his hand into mine as easily as if we’d been doing it forever. His calloused palm spoke of hours wielding a blade. And then we jogged after the Blood.

Back in the cell we stood staring at each other for a long beat.

“You can’t tell the others,” Dante said, his voice low and intimate.

“I know.”

Telling the others about the resistance would mean explaining how we’d gotten out of the cell. The resistance operatives believed Sophia had let us out, but the others might ask her about it and then our cover would be blown. If the Skins found out that Dante was a Dreki, who knew how they’d react? Fear and anger were the top two contenders. What if someone spilled the beans to the guards in the hopes of bartering for their freedom?

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