Page 108 of Death Warden
FINLEY
Being tied up and repeatedly bled sucks. I have no idea how I got here or who the chanting people are, but my gut tells me this is bad.
My instincts tell me that my being here puts Adi in danger.
I haven’t been myself since we got here. There are blind spots. Time jumps. I attribute it to my sudden ability to shift between cat-sith and person. But I’m beginning to believe that I’m wrong.
The robed figures come and go. They don’t look at me. They don’t pay me any attention. It’s been like that since I woke up here.
I test the ropes binding me again. No give. I try to shift. Again. No joy.
The chalk markings around me are a mystical blocker.
“Hello?” I try and engage the nearest robed figure. “What do you want from me?”
This is my fourth attempt to start a conversation and I’m not expecting any reply, so when the figure turns its head to face me, I blink sharply in surprise.
“Hello?”
The robed figure cants its head and speaks. “Sleep.”
Darkness takes me and the figures melt away. What is this? I’m not asleep. I’m awake.
“You are, in a manner of speaking, sleeping. But then I have to remind you of that every time we meet.”
A figure lurks in the shadows.
“Who are you? What do you want from me?”
“This is getting tedious, but I suppose this will be the very last time I have to tell you.”
Panic edges at my senses. “What do you mean?”
The figure steps out of the shadows and my pulse goes haywire because the man has my face.
* * *
ADI
We gathered around the table in the meeting room, with the anemic overhead lights shining down on us and giving everyone a washed-out look.
Had it only been a day since Spectre’s return?
It felt like much longer, like the hours between Magda’s murder and this moment had stretched for an age.
So much had happened since then. So much crammed into such a short space of time. I’d almost died. I’d found my conduits. I’d found my place here, but there was one final obstacle to the happily ever after I hadn’t even realized I craved.
Dralos.
Dax, Spectre, and Logan stood on the opposite side of the table to Tobias, Curo, and me.
Tobias had stripped off his tweed jacket. His hair was messy, as if he’d spent the last few hours running his hands through it in agitation. He’d even rolled up his shirt sleeves. Yeah, Tobias meant business.
He held an intricately designed silver pendant above a map of the six territories laid out on the huge meeting table. Dralos could be buried anywhere, and he would have drawn Finley to him.
“Finley could still be en route to Dralos,” Curo said. “This might not show us where the entity is.”
“But it will narrow it down by territory,” Tobias said. “Once we know which territory Finley is in, we’ll have to reach out to the relevant MC to ask for permission to encroach on their turf. If Finley hasn’t reached his location yet, we can track him until he does. The goal is to find Dralos’s body and Finley can lead us to him.”
