Vanya tugged something off her belt and flicked her arm to the side. The object extended and clicked as it locked at its full length, and a pulse of energy crackled on its tip. A stun baton.
Without a word—and without breaking eye contact with Drakkal—she jabbed him in the chest with the tip of the baton.
The flash of white that overcame Drakkal’s vision caused all his muscles to seize and made thunder boom in his ears. The pain of it was gone so quickly that he barely registered it; instead, it was his battle against the aftereffects that occupied his focus.
But his willpower was not quite enough; oblivion rose over him, dark and foreboding, and crashed down on Drakkal like a tidal wave.
When he sucked in a sharp breath and returned to awareness, he had no idea how much time he’d lost. He was sagged forward, shoulders sore, arms stiff, head bowed, and right hand numb. His eyes were closed, and the dull throbbing of his split lip was only one of the many aches and pains throughout his body.
After the pain, he was next aware of the slight swaying of the floor, which carried up through his body, exaggerated by his hanging posture. Panic burst inside him, speeding his heart and constricting his lungs. Had they already left Foltham’s? How long had he been out? How far had they traveled?
How far away were Shay and Leah?
He forced his eyes open. His eyelids did their best to resist the command, but he won the fight.
Drakkal’s neck protested as he lifted his head and turned it toward the front of the transport. The entryway was still open, allowing that pale blue light to spill through. His angle prevented him from seeing Vanya, who was presumably at the controls, but he could see through a section of the windshield.
Even from that limited view, he knew they were somewhere in the Undercity by the ambient neon glow contrasting the otherwise dominant darkness.
He gritted his teeth and reached internally for that still-burning rage, but he stopped himself.
Need to think clearly for a minute, Drakkal… You’re banged up already, and all you’re going to do like this is wear yourself out. Can’t rely solely on instinct here.
He needed a different approach, a more direct approach, and he needed it quickly. So far, he hadn’t been able to move the manacles more than a few millimeters away from the wall; he didn’t have enough leverage to pull beyond that. Hell, he didn’t have enough leverage to even maintain that tiny gap. But if that wouldn’t work…then what?
Drakkal turned his head toward his left hand. He curled the fingers slightly and formed long, red hardlight claws at their tips. This was his sleeker prosthesis, the model he could easily conceal beneath his clothing, and he didn’t have quite the same degree of control over its claws that he did with the armored prosthesis Samantha had designed for him. He couldn’t control their length or shape—there was only on or off.
He bent his left wrist as sharply as possible, but the thick manacle blocked the angle he’d hoped to achieve. When he bent his fingers, only the claw of the smallest one could touch the manacle. He could only generate enough force to etch a small gouge in the metal—not nearly enough damage to deactivateit, much less cut it off. The small hardlight bladescouldpenetrate the material, but they’d need a bit more strength behind them.
Dismissing the hardlight claws, Drakkal let his gaze fall as he desperately sought a fresh idea, a better way, anything that had a chance of producing results. His eyes stopped on the portion of his prosthesis that connected it to the socket on his bicep.
It took him several seconds to realize what he was staring at, but once he understood, his heart leapt.
Freedom. Vanya. Back to the manor. Murgen and Nostrus.
Those were the priorities; he had to deal with them in that order if he wanted Shay and Leah safely in his arms again. This time, he would eliminateeverythreat to his family. The time for mercy had long since passed. The time to be passive, if there’d ever been one, was gone.
Drakkal bent his left arm at a sharper angle and leaned toward it, his right arm straining as it straightened and stretched. The ache from his shoulder pulsed all the way up the side of his neck. He grunted and bent farther, ignoring the pain and discomfort, until his cheek touched his bicep. He’d done this countless times with his hands. How hard could it be with his mouth?
He felt with his lips and tongue for the latch, and when he finally found the little lip that marked the outer release, he had to strain even more—to the point of restricting the flow of air through his throat—to hook a fang beneath it. He paused for a moment to release a harsh breath through his nostrils before jerking his chin up and wrenching it to the side.
The latch offered a bit of resistance, but popped open, nonetheless. Drakkal relaxed his body, allowing his countless aches to lose some of their immediacy, before dipping his head to his arm again. He shoved his nose into the open groove,seeking the right angle to press the release. He felt like an animal rooting through the dirt in search of some elusive buried morsel, snorting and snuffling quietly. The tip of his nose pressed over the release button, but the groove was too narrow and his nose too short and soft to trigger the release.
He angled his chin upward again and extended his tongue, forcing it into the groove. The muscles along the underside of his jaw tensed and cramped as he pushed as hard as he could with his tongue. He would not relent to pain. He would not lose his family today.
A low growl rumbled in his chest. He eased his head slightly away from his arm, maintaining contact between it and his tongue, and swung it back hard.
The release button sank inward. There was an audible click and a soft hiss as the prosthesis disconnected from its socket. Drakkal forced himself to straighten, pushing past the stiffness in his neck, and turned his head toward the front of the transport.
“Everything all right back there?” Vanya asked, leaning into the entryway to look back at Drakkal. Her features were obscured by shadow save for the faint blue reflections glowing in her eyes.
“I hope you piss yourself right before I kill you,zhe’gaash,” he said.
Her eyes narrowed, and she stared at him for another second or two before disappearing behind the wall again.
Drakkal took in a few slow, deep breaths. On his third exhalation, the collar around his neck activated. He snarled in pain as an electric current coursed through his body. The snarl died when the current ceased, diminishing to a slow, hissing release of air through his teeth.
“You’ll learn some manners,” Vanya called without looking back again. “You’ll learn to show me the respect I deserve.”