Emergence (The Primogenitor Chronicles Book 1) (36 page)

Gabriel ignored all of that, and opening a locked door in the back of the building, he descended an elegant sweeping flight of stairs into a room much larger than the building above it could contain.

The reception hall of the coliseum always made him want to puke. Red velvet carpeting with matching upholstered walls, plush couches in gilt and ivory lining the room, making up cozy seating areas for waiting guests.
And in my opinion, I think it looks like a bordello. But no one wanted my opinion.
He walked past all the luxury and pulled a pass card out of his pocket. He swiped it in a reader, opening an elevator.

Descending to the arena floor, he got out and looked up. He scanned the multiple tiers of seats surrounding the oval of dirt in front of him. Nothing appeared to be amiss, so he continued to walk across the arena floor and swiped his card again to open the doors into the holding pens.
Don’t know why they label them barracks, I mean get real.

The cacophony within assaulted his ears. The door latched tight behind him and he strode over to the open practice area in search of the master of games. Not an involved search. The large, dark-skinned man stood over a prone Valkyrie. He approached and looked down at the heaving Hunter. “What’s going on, Edward?”

Not taking his eyes off of the Valkyrie, Edward responded, “He decided he wouldn’t fight. I’m convincing him otherwise.”

“Ah. Well, chain him to the post for now. We have other matters to discuss.”

The master of games kicked the reluctant fighter, then grabbing the collar around the man’s neck, he pulled him over to a post on the edge of the practice arena. Pinioning his wings wide around it, he attached a chain to the collar to hold him up on tiptoe, not the most comfortable position, then lashed his hands so that they rested on top of his head but nowhere else. When Edward rejoined him, they both stood back to admire his handiwork.

“Good, that will do for now.” Then indicating that Edward should follow, Gabriel turned down the rows of cells and started to slowly walk along them, dragging his hand along the bars. He watched the occupants and noted absently whether they cringed away or stood defiantly. “We need to assemble a list of events for tonight. The general is bringing a group in and wishes some entertainment. I don’t think it needs to be elaborate, but you know how the general likes blood, so you’ll need to get creative. There’ll need to be at least one death. I think a two-hour program should be sufficient.”

He stopped and reached through the bars of one of the cages, brushing the shoulder of a female Hunter. She just looked at the ground, not moving.

“Is this going to replace our regular schedule?” the games master asked.

“No, it’s extra. So try not to maim our best fighters.” Tangling his fingers in her flaxen hair, he pulled her up to the bars so he could look into her face. “He should be arriving by six tonight, so that gives you about five hours to get ready.”

He stared into her cornflower blue eyes. Cowed but not broken, there was still a touch of fire in their depths.

“No problem. Are you going to participate?”

He looked over his shoulder at the Valkyrie chained to the post and smiled slowly. B-Five’s scent still flowed through his body. “No, not tonight.”

Then he turned back to the female in his hand and probed her mind, feeling an unexpected barrier. Intrigued he pushed a little harder until she gasped. Smiling, he released her hair and she backed away. “Prep her, Edward. She is not to be used for any fighting, but I want her ready when I call.”

An appreciative gleam in his dark eyes, Edward nodded and they turned, walking back the way they had come. When they reached the practice area, Gabriel stopped in front of the Hunter chained to the post. He gripped the man’s chin and turned his head so their eyes could meet. “I think I’ll have a private party tonight.”

He smiled and dropped his hand. A soft moan passed the man’s lips, and Gabriel reached behind the post to pull a chain off the wall. When he stepped back around, he stretched it between his hands before he reached up and clipped it to the collar the Hunter wore. “I’ll let you know when to come and collect whatever’s left.”

“No, please.”

Unhooking the unfortunate Hunter’s wings from the post, Gabriel lashed them together then unclipped the chain that held him suspended; the Hunter’s knees buckled.

“Please, I’ll fight, I promise,” he pleaded.

“I know you will,” Gabriel promised, smiling at him, then he tugged him along behind, still protesting as he left the hold.

A kick to his foot woke Nickolas. He opened his eyes to Christoff peering at him. “Wake up, Nickolas. We’re almost there.”

He pulled his legs in and sat up, looking around. “What time is it?” he asked, yawning.

Jules, typing away on his computer, answered quietly, “One fifteen. The reports coming in are all quiet. There’s been no sign of him trying to leave, though they’ve seen movement in his room recently.”

“Jules, find out if he has any roommates or not. There’s no way to keep this quiet in a dormitory, but the less commotion the better. And get a picture. Flynn, how far away are we?”

“Just a couple of blocks, Nick.”

“Good, pull in near our watcher.”

The van swayed to a stop. Nickolas unbuckled his seat belt, not sure of how it came to be around him in the first place, and tried to shift his wings a bit. He felt a touch calmer for the nap but expected it wouldn’t last. He rubbed his grumbling stomach and glanced out the window. The driver’s door of the black SUV in front of them opened and Scott got out. His brother reached over from his seat to pop the door open for him so he could climb in.

“Well, Nickolas, I see they pried you out of the Facility for this one.”

Nick snorted a laugh.

Scott sat and leaned back. “My partner’s watching from inside. Trying to keep a low profile in college territory’s difficult. The target has stayed to his room, but he’s still pretty wound up. He hasn’t collapsed yet.”

The ratcheting of the printer kicking on made Nickolas jump, and he looked over to see Jules swivel around to pull paper from it. Accepting the sheets from Jules, he shook his head at himself and scanned the printout. “Ok, it looks like he doesn’t have a roommate. That’s good. His name is David Marks; he’s in his third year. He’s twenty years old.”

He passed the picture around and finished scanning the rest of the document before handing it on to the others. He stretched his legs out. “Well it sounds like he’s still too active for an easy retrieval. We’ll need to wait or we’ll have a fight on our hands. And after our last retrieval, I don’t think I could deal. Chris, you and I are stuck in here until then. Our wings would attract too much attention. But the rest of you can keep an eye on him.”

Groaning, Christoff nodded his head. “You’re right, of course.”

“I’d like to stretch my wings too, Chris. Let’s try to keep him isolated, that way he’ll stay out of situations that could blow up in our faces. If we can keep him in his room and quiet, there’s no need to disturb him until he’s calmer. Do you know if he has any food in there, Scott?”

“We’ll check, but I don’t think so. At least I doubt it would be what he needs.”

“True.” Staring off into space, Nickolas chewed on his thumb nail. “It’s probably going to be several hours still before he passes out, so you guys might as well go get in place. Phone us when there’s a change.”

Absently watching everyone but Christoff leave, Nickolas swiveled his seat to look out the front window. The sound of Chris rustling around behind him had Nick closing his eyes and waiting for the inevitable questions now that they were alone. The calmness he felt upon awakening evaporated like water in the desert.

“Nick, this morning…”

“Yes, this morning, Chris. What was going on that I needed to be bundled off?” He grabbed at his temper, mentally throwing a rope around it. The memory of events leading up to their departure marched through his mind, and he took a deep breath. “Somehow I get the impression it wasn’t my lack of control that was the true issue. All of you, starting with Ian, wanted me gone. And in a hurry too. Why?”

Waiting, Nickolas stared out the window. The silence stretched and it became obvious that Christoff didn’t plan to answer; he swung his chair back to face his brother. The reserved look in Chris’s eyes caught his attention, and Nickolas pondered his Second’s reticence. “What
are
the lot of you hiding? What good could it possibly be keeping me in the dark of whatever it is? There’s obviously something, or we wouldn’t be sitting here in the van
hours
early for a retrieval.”

He felt sure the fraying edges of his temper must show in his eyes, but Christoff still refused to answer. In response to his frustration, Nick felt
something
start to surge within him. He met Chris’s stare and let whatever it was loose; it pinned Christoff to his seat. His brother tried to move but could barely twitch a muscle, let alone look away. Mentally pushing harder, Nick felt the flow break open, like water that ran through a hole in the ice, and the ice suddenly gave, letting a torrent rush unrestricted.

Panic flared in Chris’s eyes when he realized that he couldn’t get free.

“Tell me, Chris.”

Christoff’s face twisted as he fought the compulsion, and he broke out into a sweat. “Don’t…do this…Nick…pleeease.”

The fear and pain he was causing Chris penetrated his single mindedness. Nickolas hissed and broke the contact. His brother slumped forward, grabbing his temples. Swearing viciously, Nickolas slammed his head into the back of the seat, clenching his fists. Unhappy with his lack of control, he tried to calm his mind. He thought of nothingness, then remembering what Chris had told him about the web, he spun a cocoon so thick about himself that he couldn’t sense Christoff’s presence anymore. Opening his eyes, he looked at his brother again.

 “Nick, what have you done? I can’t feel you anymore.” He sat rubbing his temple, watching and waiting for him to gain control, the surprise evident in his eyes.

“That’s probably a good thing.” This time he just stared at his brother expectantly, using nothing more than his eyes to convey his desire for answers.

Still fidgeting, Christoff looked around the interior of the vehicle as if something would miraculously appear to get the topic changed, but then he took a deep breath and faced him squarely.

“Look. It’s not us hiding stuff from you. It’s us hiding you from stuff. Ok? Ian got warning that Gabriel was on his way to the Facility. We can normally keep you occupied somewhere out of his way, but not this time. Ian assured me that the moment Gabriel got close enough to the Facility, he would know you were no longer taking the drugs.”

“You couldn’t have just said this in the Hub? And how would Gabriel know? And what the hell? Keep me occupied? Why? So this is why I haven’t crossed paths with him?”

“Were you really up for listening to anything in the Hub this morning? You looked one step shy of going feral. And I didn’t have the luxury of time to talk you out of your tree. As for how he would know? I think that should be self-explanatory.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Ian? When…how did he find out?”

“Again, self-explanatory.”

“Damn it, Chris. No, it’s not. They would only know if they were not…on…”

Chris nodded his head.

He leaned his head back against the seat. “So the lies grow.”

“Like weeds in a vacant lot.”

He swiveled his seat to look out the window again. His growling stomach broke the silence. “Do you have a candy bar or anything? I missed breakfast thanks to you guys.”

“What’s with the sudden sweet tooth? And no, I don’t.”

“Don’t know, just really tastes good.” He folded his arms and closed his eyes. “Well, we might as well catch a nap. We won’t be seeing any changes until dark, I expect.”

“Just one thing more, Nicky; could you lower the shield just a little? It’s really disturbing not sensing you when you’re so close.”

He reached inside and unraveled a bit of the cocoon, just enough so that he could hazily feel Chris’s presence again. “There, how’s that?”

“Much better, thank you. You rest, I’ll keep watch.”

Chris’s voice roused him from a troubled sleep. Hot, gritty eyes tried to focus in the gloom. The nearest street lamp stood halfway down the block. Its light wavered as bare branches from the line of huge chestnut trees obscured it. He rubbed at his face and yawned, then stretched as well as he could in the confines of the van.