Chapter 87: Not That Easy To Break

I catch his scent at the last second. It's the only thing that saves Piers's life.

He falls back with a cry as I collapse, still clutching my spike, at his feet. I look up at him, not believing what I'm seeing, smelling. He must be another hallucination, like my mother. But when he bends over me, his blond hair brushing over my naked skin, fearful gray eyes full of worry, I know he's really here with me.

Piers sweeps off his longcoat and drapes it over me before helping me to my feet. I fall into his arms and he hugs me close, the feel of him so wonderful I can barely stand it. My body breaks into powerful shivers, making it hard to stay upright, but Piers holds me tight in his strong arms and lets me shake out the debilitating fallout of my capture.

"Charlotte." He grips my arms, pushes me back gently, still holding me up. He swallows hard, lower lip trembling, tears in his eyes before he hugs me again. "Charlotte, you're alive." He sobs once into my hair, big hands tight and flat on my back. "It took us so long to track you, I was so afraid they..."

I kiss his collarbone past the open fabric of his button up shirt and lean away, swaying but feeling stronger, smiling though I've been through so much. It's intensely wonderful to see him, almost painful, and I touch his cheek with shaking fingers as he stares down at me. "They tried their hardest," I say, "but I'm not that easy to break."

He kisses me softly on the mouth, not a romantic gesture, but a loving and kindly one. "We have to hurry," he says, suddenly nervous all over again, glancing back over his shoulder at the partially open door. "Can you walk?"

I slip my spike into one of the pockets before sliding my arms into the sleeves of his coat, buttoning the front to cover my nakedness. I have to pull tight the belt around my narrow waist to keep the bulk from getting in my way. The reassuring weight of the spike in my hand as I retrieve it is all the strength I need.

"Let's get out of here," I growl, heading for the door. The hall outside is more stone. We must still be in England somewhere, a castle, maybe? "How did you find me?"

Piers hovers at my shoulder, the two of us slinking down the stone hall toward what looks like a set of stairs at the end. A bigger window shows me an elevated view of the darkened countryside. We must be in a tower of some kind, because the stairs are curved to the right when I reach them, descending down and out of sight.

"We tracked you through Andre," Piers says. "I convinced the others he was probably behind it, not Rupe. Or, at least, not alone."

I reach out and squeeze his hand. "Smart," I say.

Piers shrugs, gray eyes worried, staying close to me. "I just wish it hadn't taken so long to find him. I'm sorry, Charlotte." He looks away. "I can't imagine what he did to you."

And he'll never know. "It's over," I say. "And Andre will pay for what he's done." I must put this behind me, focus on the reason I'm here in the first place. "Where is Syd?" I try not to let my heart sink. If it was Piers who figured out where to find me, that means Sage didn't find her after all. Which leaves the question: where is he?"

"I don't know," Piers says as we come around the final turn and reach the bottom. "She disappeared before you were taken."

I stop him, hug him hard one last time. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He clears his throat. "We have to go."

I nod as I pull away, wiping at my nose and wet cheeks. More tears. I didn't think I had the moisture to spare. "Can't we just take one of your tunnels out?"

Piers shakes his head, arm around me as he guides me down a wider hall, decorated this time, with a heavy medieval influence. Definitely a castle of some kind. I drift past a suit of armor as he whispers.

"Rupe has this whole place blocked with sorcery," my friend says. "I can't cut through it. We have to make it outside his shielding."

"He's controlling my magic." I almost choke on those words. "Can you free me?"

I feel his power crawl over me, my wolf shuddering at his touch.

"Not until we're outside," he says, pausing at the top of another, grand set of stairs. The place feels silent to me, as though no one lives here, but the lights are on and it feels well maintained. "It should be safe, the others are creating a diversion. Let's go."

I follow him, not asking who he means, can only guess it's the usual suspects. And that guess is confirmed as a dark-haired woman hurries from a side corridor and up the stairs toward us, her blue eyes locked on me. I almost fall into Ethpeal's arms as she races to greet me and flings her arms around me, holding me so tight it's hard to breathe. Who needs breath when I have her there?

"Piers." She releases me long enough to snap orders. "Go help Demetrius and Miriam. I'll take Charlotte the rest of the way out."

He hesitates, but she smacks his arm and he nods with a grin, rubbing the offended spot.

"Yes, ma'am," he says, hurrying away, though he looks back as he reaches the bottom step, just before disappearing down the same corridor from which she appeared. Ethpeal spins me toward her, face grim and angry.

"The Steam Union is coming," she says, guiding me down at last. "And I want that boy to have lots of room to run from his mother if she decides to try to arrest him."

Poor Piers. I understand his reasoning for leaving the Steam Union. I'm not a huge fan of Eva Southway myself. But I fear he did it for me, the wrong reason to abandon his people.

"Don't you worry about him," Ethpeal says as we reach the bottom floor. I glance sideways, realizing the castle isn't empty after all. A crumpled collection of bodies lie on the marble floor, one of them with short, dark hair and another with long, the Dumont brothers unconscious.

Or dead. I can hope for dead.

"We can hope Eva will be too occupied with Rupe to worry about her son," Ethpeal says, hurrying me forward, not to the same hall Piers ran down, but the opposite way. My stomach heaves as she stops me at a cart and forces a bottle of water into my hands. "Drink as much as you can. But hurry."

I gulp the cool water, emptying the bottle in less than thirty seconds. My insides cramp, protesting the onslaught of precious liquid, but my wolf works her magic, and I'm eagerly reaching for another from Ethpeal's strong hands a moment later. I take the third with me, making short work of my second banana, craving meat but not having time to be choosy.

Ethpeal doesn't flinch when a pair of young men emerge at a run from the corridor up ahead. A giant wall of black hits them like a train engine, bowling them over. She swears softly, too quiet for me to make out the words with my heart pounding in my ears at the forced exercise, but I've heard her repertoire and can guess she's using her favorites.

"Piers says your sorcery is blocked," I say.

"From making an escape route, yes," she says. "But I can still pack a punch. In here." She shoves me through a doorway, using her shoulder to push open the heavy door before slamming it shut behind her. I follow, feeling better for the water and bit of food, to a glass door at the far end, leading out into a lush garden. The outside air is a balm on my soul, deep breaths of it filling me with the scents of roses and other flowers, dirt and clean, open sky.

Something rumbles off in the distance, on the other side of the house. Ethpeal pushes me down the stone path through the garden and into the open lawn on the other side. I look back at the squat castle, up at the tower that was my prison, even as a black sheet of flame engulfs the property. I stumble and fall on my hands and knees in the fragrant grass as Ethpeal tumbles to the ground beside me, the rolling pressure of the assault a physical blow.

"I guess Eva made it," Syd's grandmother grins at me. "As much as I admire her gumption, I'm happy to miss the crap hitting the fan." She stands, offers me her hand. I take it, hoisting myself up, only to find myself in her arms again.

"We really have to go," she whispers in my ear.

"I know," I say. "Ethpeal, thank you." Now I can cry, I have the water in me to do it.

She pushes me away, roughly swiping at her own cheeks. "Silly girl," she says. "You are family." Her eyes widen, gaze over my shoulder, power gathering even as I turn and realize we're not alone.

Andre, his resurrected sons behind him, run from the edge of the garden, looking back over their shoulders as they flee.



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