At least now, he could think more clearly. He was level-headed enough to know that letting your hostages see was a bad fucking sign. Their captors didn’t intend for them to leave in one piece.
Edward was gone.
Ryker wasn’t sure where he’d been taken, but he hadn’t returned. A few minutes ago, he’d heard a female voice calling out orders in the corridor, and then another man was dragged away.
Horatio.
The vampire had been kind to Ryker during the Choosing, and it was thanks to his suggestion that Ryker had installed the vampire-safe windows in his apartment.
The vampire had cried out, the gag muffling his protests as he struggled against the guards dragging him.
And the rebels? They’d fuckinglaughed, commenting amongst themselves that the silencing ward around the entire level meant no one could hear the vampire’s screams anyways.
Bastards.
Ryker was kneeling, his arms and legs having long since turnednumb. Uncomfortable prohiberis cuffs were clamped around his wrists, and the rope binding his arms behind his back was making matters worse. The temperature verged on freezing, and goosebumps peppered his flesh.
Four armed guards circled their group, and none of them looked friendly.
Therian kneeled a few feet away from Ryker. A massive purple bruise covered the left side of the dragon shifter’s face, and his eye on that same side of his face was swollen shut.
The dragon shifter was unnaturally pale, and a cut several inches long ran down his right cheek. In addition to the prohiberis clamped around Therian’s arms and legs, a metal collar that reeked of lemons and cedar was clamped around his neck.
A recessed memory worked its way to the front of Ryker’s mind, a lesson from when he first joined the military.
Dragonsbane is one of the only substances known to halt a dragon shifter’s magic. It’s powerful. Historical examples include when the Crimson King used it against the High Lady of Life’s mate. With its lemon and cedar scent, dragonsbane is instantly recognizable. It’s dangerous, and prolonged exposure to the substance can permanently injure a dragon shifter, and even stop them from ever shifting again.
It was also incredibly rare.
Ryker had to give it to the rebels, they were prepared for this. Dragonsbane was even less accessible than prohiberis, yet the rebels had found enough to subdue Therian.
Ryker shifted slowly so as not to attract the rebels’ attention. Not much, but enough to catch Therian’s eye.
The shifter tilted his head, his blond hair dusted in grime and blood. They met each other’s gazes, and Therian widened his eyes a fraction. Ryker dipped his chin.
A silent agreement: they were going to get out of here.
No matter the cost.
The opportunity toescape arose a few minutes later. Or was it half an hour?
The door creaked open, and a tall man appeared at the entrance. Light from the hallway beyond illuminated his broad frame. He radiated violence.
“Hey, the boss needs some help upstairs.”
“What about them?” The guard closest to the door gestured to the group with his gun.
The newcomer scoffed. “They don’t have any magic or weapons. Come on.”
The guard snorted but followed his companion and another soldier into the hallway. They spoke too quietly for Ryker to hear, but if their tones were anything to go by, they were enjoying their roles as captors.
Ryker could’ve sworn he caught a flash of chestnut hair in the hallway before the door shut behind the men, but he wasn’t sure.
The lock clicked back into place, leaving them alone once again.
If the guards thought they would be silent, willing captives, they were wrong. Taking on four guards at once while bound and lacking magic would’ve been suicide.
But two?