Challenged by Darkness (An Urban Fantasy Novel) (Befallen Tides series Book 2) (13 page)

Her uncle was working with the enemy. This place had never been safe. Genevieve threw Orion a hateful glare.

“I am to be given my queen,” Esteban continued to shout. “And my rightfully earned power.”

“You were to be given a bride, not a queen.” Orion never raised his voice. “And we were to run the Queendom in tandem with the Goddess. You’re overstepping your reach, Co-Chancellor of the Light.”

The crazed gleam in Esteban’s gaze did not waver. “If we cannot make a deal,” he said, tilting his gun in emphasis, “then we’ve no need to negotiate any further.”

Genevieve whimpered in fear when the weapon sighted on her again.

“You forget, Orion,” Esteban continued, “You are the one who stands to lose everything. I am the one who can only gain.”

The High Chancellor got brave. “After all I’ve done for you? I cleared the pathways to your retribution against the Rowan family. I covered your tracks after Dante recklessly had their eldest daughter murdered! Is this how you repay me? By snatching more power than you know what to do with?”

Esteban shook the gun wildly. “There will be no more need for your cooperation when I am in total control!”

“Wait.” Her uncle finally showed a bit of remorse at Genevieve’s situation. He held a hand up quickly when Chavez kept his finger pressed determinedly to the trigger. “Killing the princess won’t gain you control of anything.”

“I don’t see how it would affect anything. She and the queen are useless things. We control their festering pile of a Queendom. So why pretend any longer?” He barked a mirthless laugh. “Those with the touch should know who runs their lives and fear them. We are the order. We are the peacekeepers! No more hiding behind the tempered hand of their pretty queen!”

“Things will go a lot smoother if both Genevieve and Edina live. You know that.”

“Why should I listen to you when you cannot even protect yourself? When you’ve already lost the battle?” He raised his free hand in emphasis, speaking down to a gadget at his arm. “Bring her in.”

Three savages followed by two men entered Orion’s chambers. The savages were nipping hungrily at the quavering form of the Goddess Edina. She squeaked in fear as they threw her forward toward Chavez, who, in turn, threw her beside Genevieve.  The queen did her best to put her daughter between herself and the still-snapping savages.

“Don’t let them kill me!” Her eyes were panic stricken, her movements not her own in her fright. “Please, keep them away from me!”

“Do you see now who holds all of the cards?” Esteban shouted over the Goddess’s sobs. “Please, tell me why I should listen to you for one remaining minute?”

Orion’s face finally caved in defeat. He looked embarrassed and alone. His fists clenched in haughtiness. “You
dare
—”

“Oh, I dare!” Esteban laughed triumphantly.

Nobody was going to stop him.

 

CHAPTER 13

They drove for hours. Winx wasn’t able to keep count. Since the stranger had fallen asleep and she couldn’t rest through this, her focus was mostly on Keaton. She had tried to keep Keaton lucid, but soon, she wasn’t able to convince him to keep his eyes open, either. That left her alone and shifting continuously, the vibrating metal hard under her numbing body.

They stopped twice on the journey. The first time, the backdoor wasn’t opened. Winx had hoped that the guard would let them out to relieve themselves, at least, but Winx was forced to ignore the demands of her body. Real embarrassment was nearby, but she wasn’t alone in that, she was sure.

Still, Winx bellowed to be allowed out to relieve herself on the second stop. The guard relented, to her surprise, but they were far from gentle as they tossed her out and shuffled her into a rest stop bathroom, much to her amusement. She would have been satisfied with a nearby field.

When she came back out, Keaton and the stranger were being roughly put back into the back of the van. Keaton looked miserably pale, and his limp was over-pronounced before he was damn near lifted off of his feet to be returned to the vehicle.

Winx shouted angrily at that, but she turned even more feral when a man picked her up by her hips, grabbed a healthy portion of her ass, and then bodily threw her into the stranger in the van. She landed nearly facedown in his lap and had barely scrambled off him before the doors were closed again.

“Closest thing I’ve had to a date in a long time,” the stranger tried to joke. “Wish I could have had a shave first.”

Winx didn’t find it funny. She scooted away from him and over to Keaton, who looked barely recovered from his near faint outside of the van. She was even more worried.

They drove for another stretch of indeterminable time. Nobody had anything to say. The only sounds were of their harsh breathing grating off of the bare interior.

When they came to their final stop, Winx had actually been considering trying to close her eyes for a moment. The complete absence of even a sliver of light told her the sun had set at least an hour ago, and without being able to see even an inch in front of her nose, she no longer saw the point of staying awake. She could hardly regret the missed opportunity, though. It seemed that they were about to get some answers...at least, before they were rendered useless with injuries. Or worse, killed.

The guards pulled them out of the van’s bed one by one. All of Winx’s instincts were telling her to fight, but instead, she did her best to focus on her surroundings as they were led up a long, concrete drive. A surplus of foliage made seeing any nearby landmarks impossible, but she was sure that they were somewhere remote. A large steel gate was rattling closed behind them, and the building resembled a palace, with a lot of polished marble, ornate carvings, and high, floodlit beams.

Foreboding had long overtaken her, but when Winx met Keaton’s watchful gaze, she attempted to calm herself. There still might be a way out of this. If they were going to suffer, then they would at least suffer with cause, by doing all in their power to get out alive.

The stranger began to laugh as the group was led around to the back entrance of the structure. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re taking me to the man himself?”

Winx felt a snakelike chill creep down her spine. Keaton made an odd growling sound.

“What did I tell you about keeping your thoughts blocked?” Archibald shouted at the guard holding the stranger. “Didn’t I tell you that demons have tricks up their sleeves? What was all of that training for, if not to prevent
him
from getting disclosed information?”

The guard was turning beet red, but he defended himself. “I’ll be more careful. But come on. That’s something that he was about to find out anyway.”

“We’re going to Chavez?” Winx’s voice was barely above a whisper. The one man who had been trying to kill her all of this time, and she was being led directly to him.

They were taken down a large staircase. Winx dragged her feet the entire way to the point that she was lifted by her arms off of the ground. Beside her, she could hear Keaton attempting the same, though it had to be more difficult with his severe injury. But the stranger was jovial and walked readily, as if leading the troops himself.  Didn’t he know what they were about to face?

The closer they got to what was surely the mouth of hell, the more Winx found it in her to fight. Sounds tore from her throat as she violently jerked her body.

“Don’t make us Taser you like last time,” Archibald offered calmly. It didn’t make her stop her struggles, but she did ease up. At least, if she stayed awake, escape was still an option. Chavez had proven before that he was enough of a madman to want to kill her while she was awake. No need to weaken herself and make the job easier for him.

They reached a set of doors with distinguished woodwork. Beyond that, the room got a lot darker, with hard floors and no sunlight.

Winx, Keaton, and the stranger were all thrown into a cell together. A heavy metal gate was slammed shut, and the guards walked away.

Despite herself, Winx thought of the last time Chavez had met her in a cell. The memory of the pain and horror, of the shock rendering her body useless, brought Winx to an almost catatonic point. She stared off into the dark, unseeing and frozen in time.

Keaton knew that Winx was not okay. But how could he help her? She was reliving her worst nightmare, and he was completely futile with his injury. His eyes had adjusted in the dark, and he could easily make out Winx’s wide eyes and the grim set of her mouth. Her breath was shallow and uneven. He’d never seen her that way.

The stranger was walking around the cell. He kicked at a low bar with a “humph” and looked at the upper corners with calculation. Keaton decided to mirror him, for lack of anything else to do. He took in their surroundings with a slow sweep of the room.

Besides a few pillars decked with chains, there wasn’t much to see. It was obviously a dungeon, but besides the lack of light, there weren’t many clichéd jail-cell remnants. There weren’t any dank smells or rats along the ground. It may not have been lavish, and it was likely a simple cellar before the bars were erected, but it was obviously cared for. There were vents, but no windows. How deep underground they were wasn’t clear.

“How is she the one flipping out?” the stranger suddenly addressed him.

“What?” Keaton was instantly angry. Winx had every reason to feel the way she did. Chavez was set to murder her.

“She’s of the dark touch.” The stranger said it slow, as if he were speaking to a dog. “And you’re a mongrel. Don’t  mongrels lose their shit behind bars?”

What he was saying wasn’t untrue. Normally a bandit in a prison cell was a dangerous thing. They’d paw around the place haphazardly. Some would go insane. Being confined was not their thing. But Keaton was focused on the too-silent Winx.

He glared at the stranger, and then he pointed at his foot. “I think they’ve done enough.”

“Keaton?”

Both men jumped. It was a female voice to the far right echoing toward them, and Keaton recognized it immediately. How had he not realized they weren’t alone? His senses must be on overload from his sad state.

“Genevieve?” he called to her. He slid himself carefully to the very edge of the cage and peeked as best he could to the far corner. He could make out half of her form sitting in the darkness, her cell separated from theirs by a width of walkway. She looked like she was cuffed, just like them. “Yes, it’s me.”

“Keaton!” her shrill voice sounded alarmed. “Is that really you?”

“It is,” he answered back. “How long have you been in here?”

“I’m not sure. Hours, I think. It’s hard to say.”

“Are you alone?”

“Yes. My mother and uncle are being kept elsewhere.”

“Who put you in here?”

“Chavez.”

He’d been afraid of that. “What happened?”

“He’s taken over everything, Keaton. He has overrun my Queendom with savages, and now he’s overthrowing my mother. We’ve lost, Keaton.”

He rested his head against the cold of the bars and stayed there. “Heavens.”

“Are you hurt?” Genevieve asked him.

Keaton lifted his head a fraction. “I’ll be all right.”

“Even so…” Genevieve slid over to press herself against the bars. She reached both shackled hands out and stretched, but it wasn’t nearly enough to close the distance. Keaton, knowing what she tried, reached his hand out as well. The two of them strained, but it was no use.

“Thanks anyway, Evy.”

She sighed. “I wish I could help.”

Keaton glanced at his twisted, broken ankle. It wasn’t a pretty sight, so he looked back at her. “I thought that Iragall would at least keep you safe. Didn’t he take you to a secure location?”

“Yeah, you’re looking at it.”

Were the lixyns so inept? Keaton was irritated. “Then where are his enforcers?”

“I don’t know. My uncle was supposed to be keeping us safe. But… that has failed. We have failed.”

“Hey, speak for yourself, lady.” The stranger spoke up this time, directing everyone’s attention to him. “I’m right where I am supposed to be.”

“Who is that?” Genevieve queried.

“I have no idea,” Keaton confessed.

“Don’t worry about me,” the stranger answered. “I’m just a shadow in the dark. A sexy, sexy shadow.”

“Sir, if you are of any help—”

“Oh, I should say that I am.”

“Please. Tell me. Do you see a way out of this plight?”

The stranger went back to observing the bars. “Nothing immediate.”

“Then how are you so cheerful?” she demanded of him.

He leaned his shoulder against the bars. “Come on, you’re acting like you’re not used to being thrown in prison.”

“Will you stop with the act already?” It was Winx who spoke up now. Her head was downcast, hiding her features, but her tone was ever annoyed. “We get it. You’re braver than the rest of us. If you’re not going to tell us why you’re not afraid, then quit talking.”

“Ah, no nonsense.” The stranger laughed. “What a serious little sub-demon.”

“I’m not a sub anything.”

“Sure you are. You’re not quite a demon, but still of the dark touch.”

“She’s a daevor,” Keaton answered for her.

“Exactly. Such serious creatures. If she were a full-blooded demon like me, she’d lighten up a little.”

Winx glared up at him. “You’ve obviously never run into Chavez before.”

“No, I haven’t,” the stranger admitted. “He’s still alive.”

That grabbed everyone’s attention. The lixyn, bandit, and daevor gave him wide looks of judgment. But the stranger didn’t elaborate any further.

Eventually, the entryway to the dungeon opened and flooded with light. Sconces were lit by two silent servants who did not speak to the prisoners. When they left, it wasn’t long before the man himself came in.

Four guards led by Tipping brought in Orion and London, whom they tied to a pillar with their arms above their heads. They were about three feet apart from one another. It was obvious that they were about to be subjected to some type of torture.

When Iragall saw both Keaton and Winx in the cell, a flash of disappointing sadness swept his features. Orion was stoic, not looking at his niece.

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