Page 71 of Outcast Fae
Either way, I stayed motionless on the floor, fighting to keep myself immobile as Adaline stood and rang the bell once more.
The sound of doors sliding opened was followed by bootsteps. The floor shook as a few large individuals walked toward us. Hands grabbed my wrists, and it was all I could do to remain limp as someone began to drag my body from the table.
“Take them to the lab,” Adaline said, her heels clicking on the floor as she moved away from us.
The lab? My gut clenched at the thought. I knew that some humans were interested in fae anatomy. I’d heard of one story where a human had captured and murdered a fae woman just so he could dissect her corpse. Was that where I was headed? For all I knew, I would end up splayed out and pinned to a board like a bird in someone’s museum.
I wanted to fight, but that would go against what Vaughn had told me. I reminded myself I had chosen to trust him. Staying limp was the only plan I had at the moment.
Yet, staying still was one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do.
They lifted me up and laid me on something soft, then we began to move on what felt like a wheeled table. The wheels whirred over the smooth floor and were joined by a second set. I decided that Vaughn was on another gurney behind me and took solace in that.
Whatever we were headed to, we went together.
After a few turns and several long hallways, I was barely able to peek at, another set of doors slid open, and we were pushed inside.
The room echoed, and I got a sense that it was smaller than the one we had just left. Several pairs of feet walked around and then an unfamiliar voice filled the room.
“This is them?” it said skeptically. The voice was male and gravelly, making me think the person speaking was older.
“This is them,” Horace’s voice confirmed. “The two that Ms. Habermann wants added to your roster.”
“The male is impressive, but her?” A cold hand slid over my wrist making me want to bolt upright. “Fae, is she?”
“Yep,” Horace said.
“We have enough of those already,” the older man said with a sigh.
Enoughfae? How many? And did that include my friends? My hope and dread for the children’s safety blossomed once more. Were they really here? I couldn’t discern anyone else in the room with me, but maybe they were close by.
“Do you need anything else?” Horace asked.
“No, you may go,” the older man said.
Two pairs of feet walked out of the room and the door closed.
I lay motionless, barely breathing as I listened to the old man putter around the room. There was some clinking of instruments and the sound of a drawer sliding out. Then he moved beside me again. His hand grabbed my chin and one finger pulled open my mouth while something slid inside.
The awful, gut-wrenching feeling of letting someone probe me was almost too much to bear, but I got through it as he swabbed something small and soft around in my mouth. Then he pulled out some of my hairs, making my scalp tingle. Next, the man fastened a cold piece of rubber around my arm. Something stabbed the crook of my arm. I held back a cry. What was he doing to me? Pumping poison into my body?!
Vaughn was wrong. Horace had tricked him into being compliant in his own murder. I had to do something.
I balled my hand into a fist and smashed upward.
My fist collided with the old man, bone crunching on bone. He cried out, falling back.
My eyes flew open, and I took in the scene in a split second: the small medical office, the vials and syringes on a counter, the silver tools on a tray, Vaughn on a wheeled table beside me and, behind him, another.
My heart nearly stopped as I saw who was strapped to it.
Bor! It was true. The children,mychildren, were here.
He was belted to a table similar to Vaughn’s and mine. His eyes were closed, and his face was pale. Was he alive? My heart skipped a beat. I flung myself off the gurney just as the old man stumbled up from the floor holding his bloody nose.
“Guards!” he screamed.
Without thinking, I flew over Vaughn and landed at Bor’s bedside. Gripping his hand, I shook his thin frame. “Bor! Wake up.” Soft blond hair the color of gold folded over his forehead. I brushed a hand over his chestnut-colored cheek as soft and smooth as when he was a baby back in Alanthyl. “Bor, please wake up.”
