“Yes.” Nikhail’s voice was pained.
The typing stopped, and even though Brynleigh didn’t dare look away from Nikhail, she was certain Indira was listening closely.
“Who?” She barely dared ask.
“Horatio Montclair, one of the vampires. He isn’t doing well.”
The typing resumed, and Brynleigh closed her eyes for a long moment. Thank all the gods, it wasn’t Ryker. She should feel happy about that.
And yet, all she felt was grief.
One man was already dead. Another was in harm’s way.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that, somehow, this was her fault.
“What did they do?” Brynleigh forced the words out of her dry throat.
“The rebels?—”
“I’ve got it.” Indira stood up so fast that her chair tumbled to the ground. “I know where they are.”
CHAPTER 34
Dragonsbane and Desperate Measures
Ryker was losing track of time. Minutes felt like hours, and seconds dragged on.
He had never been this sore in his entire life.
His head throbbed like a mallet was beating against his skull. His eyes hurt. He was lightheaded, his limbs were aching and heavy, and a wrongness coursed through him.
He groaned, the sound muffled and wrong. His mouth was dry, and he was gagged.
Damn it all. Ryker should’ve been more careful.
He’d been out for a run with Marlowe when four masked men ambushed him coming out of Eleyta Park. They’d shouted something about freeing the Republic as they jumped him.
He immediately dropped the dog’s leash and commanded him to run. The moment Marlowe bolted away, Ryker pulled on his magic.
He threw powerful waves at the men, forming ice daggers in his hands at the same time. Two of them fell, but the others managed to avoid his attack. They swarmed him, and one of them stabbed a needle into the back of his neck.
Ryker didn’t stop fighting, sending out magic and throwing several ice daggers, but ultimately, he went down.
Abducted in plain fucking daylight.
If it weren’t such a dire situation, he would’ve been embarrassed. He’d gotten complacent and started taking the same route for his run several months ago. He knew better, but he honestly never thought anything would happen to him.
As a child, his mother had drilled into them the importance of always staying alert, but over the years, he had relaxed and let down his guard.
He’d fucked up. He wasn’t above admitting that.
A strange, bitter taste had been at the back of Ryker’s mouth when he woke up. Between that and the trouble he was having thinking, he was sure he’d been drugged.
Rebel bastards.
At some point after they dragged the first man away, the captors removed the bags from their heads.
The drugs were wearing off, leaving Ryker with a pulsing headache.