INVISIBLE FATE BOOK THREE: ALEX NOZIAK (INVISIBLE RECRUITS) (11 page)

Chapter
Twenty-two

I stumbled against the sudden blast of Bran calling my name. At least it felt like a cry, but as fast as it pierced me, it was gone.

“What is it?” the girl behind me asked.

I shook my head. Imagining things. “Nothing. Let’s keep going.”

What was happening to Bran? Why should I care? It wasn’t
as if I didn’t have enough problems to deal with, but like a lingering echo, his voice haunted me.

Later. I’d figure out what was going on with him as soon as I could catch my breath.

It seemed like we’d snailed our way across the concrete far longer than the time it actually took to reach the end of the lip. Because I’d been moving so cautiously, this time I didn’t topple headfirst back into the pool. Barely.

“That’s it?” the girl’s voice was raising an octave a word, the pulse of her heart keeping pace. “What now?”

Like I had all the answers. I didn’t. But sharing that wasn’t going to help us. Instead, I squinted into the shadows around us, a little lighter here because we were nearer the red glowing door. Across from the base of the steps actually, though there was still a good dozen feet of murky liquid between the first stair and us.

It
wasn’t still water either. Here I was close enough I could hear the churn of the whirlpool and guess at its origin. “I’d say there’s another tunnel beneath the water here, leading away and sucking anything in the pool toward it.”

“You thinking we can get out that way?”

I shook my head. “Not my first choice. We have no idea if the outflow tunnel here is solid water with no headroom for air or how far it might go on.”

“Or even if there
is an exit,” the girl added.

“Good point.”

“So?”

I looked across the ten to twelve feet and weighed our odds. If I were by myself
, I might make it. Maybe. I had no idea how long it’d been since I’d last eaten but could feel the fatigue weighting my limbs. Fighting exhaustion and a whirlpool were not a good mix. Then there was the whole dread of voluntarily easing back into the water. It was enough to have my stomach heaving.

And what about the girl?

She’d admitted she couldn’t swim. Could I get her across? Alive?

“I think we should stay here,” she said, all belligerence leeched from her voice.

“We have no food. No clean water, unless you want to drink that sludge. We’re not going to get stronger by sitting around in wet clothes.” Yeah, I was being intentionally brutal but I had to break through to her. It’d be hard enough helping her across with her assistance. I had no idea what would happen if she fought me.

Okay, I did know. We’d both drown.

“Look.” I turned toward her. “Last thing I want to do is get back into that pool and fight my way across to the other side … ”

“But?”

I turned away, ignoring the knotting in my stomach as I straightened my shoulders. “There’s no choice. You can come with me and I’ll do everything in my power to get us both out alive. Or—”

“Or you’d leave me.”

“I’m not going to fight you on this. Everyone should have their own choice.” And I meant it. It always came down to hard choices. My going after Van on my own with only Bran and his friends. Us ending up here instead of staying in the cells. My sending Bran to help my brother, which led to Van’s death. Choices always had ramifications and they were not always happy endings.

Sucking in a deep breath and thrusting my grief about Van back into an open bleeding wound somewhere inside of me I asked, “So you coming or not?”

She released a rusty laugh. “Yeah, death by drowning or starving.”

“I think the dehydration will kill you first.”

“Thanks.”

I
eased myself down to the slab, sliding my feet and legs into the chilly liquid. Crapola, I didn’t want to do this.

“You don’t have any spells?” the girl asked, still standing, her back pressed so hard against the stone wall I
was surprised she didn’t disappear into it.

“You mean a levitation spell? Or maybe a flying monkey leap?”

She wasn’t even looking at me. She was looking at the water. “I’d be happy with a stink-stink-stay-away spell.”

I actually caught a rough laugh bubbling up before I tamped it down. “Sorry. Fresh out of one of those.”

“Some all powerful witch you are,” she grumbled, like a petulant child, but she flopped down beside me before the last word was out of her mouth so I guess she’d made her choice. “Next time I end up in a cell it’s going to be with someone who has more magic than you.”

“You do that,” I said, turning myself to lower myself in deeper, holding on to the
concrete lip like the edge of a swimming pool. When I was holding my upper body above water with my elbows, I looked at the girl. “The way I figure it, if you get in like I am, I’ll get behind you to hold your head up and out of the water.”

“While it’s pulling me down?”

“While it’s pulling both of us down,” I snapped. “I’ll use my left shoulder against this wall.” I tapped on the stone to my left. The one with an opening down its length somewhere. “You—” Damn, this was going to be harder than I thought. “If you can keep your legs and feet raised as high as possible, you’ll act like a wedge against the stone.” I slapped the wall again. “We’ll scrape along until we reach the steps there.” A nod indicated the end goal.

“And if I can’t do that?” she asked.

“We die.”

Yup, I could be the queen of bitchiness when needed. And boy did we need it.

Chapter Twenty-three

Bran said nothing as three simin fae flanked him on each side, silent and deadly. Until one spoke in a high-pitched, scratchy whisper, “This way.”

Not a lot of options. So he followed where they led
, surprised when they headed toward
Le Trianon
. The building the Council of Seven met in a few days ago, and where he’d been headed when an attack by Weres on Alex derailed him.

Now he marched as if to an execution, which it very well might be. His own.

Not up the front stairs like visitors who posed to take photos, but around to a black side door. It’d always been said a black door attracted demons he recalled as he stepped from the spring freshness of outside, to the closed, stuffy air of a building created for a dead queen—Marie Antoinette.

Not that now was the time for history lessons, or any thoughts not focused on his survival.

No one knew where he was. No one expected him elsewhere, except for his business empire, whom he’d contacted earlier before he left to meet with Stone and left a message that he might be out of communication for a few days. No one who would raise an alarm if he never walked out of this building.

Knowing he was being brought before the Council, that was a very real possibility.

Time to end this charade, knowing the simin fae would slice him down before he moved far, though he was willing to take the risk. Besides, he possessed mage abilities that could take them off guard. All he needed was a moment or two.

He paused, causing the fae to halt, their gazes snapping to his.

Their leader spoke, “We’re late.”

“You might be,” he mumbled as he braced
himself to cast a spell he’d only attempted once before.

“Air to wind, Earth to dust.

By water and by fire, I call thee.”

The fae started rustling, l
ooking between one another. That was the Achilles heel of simin fae. They were warriors, through and through, but not generals.

He raised his hands ever so slightly but enough to call to the east and to the west.

“
Trouble to heed and trouble to disperse.

Compel. Constrain.
Conjure.”

The floor started rocking beneath them, small swells of magic erupting. The nearest windows rattled. A crack appeared spidering from the ceiling.

“Halt!”
The fae hissed.

It was too late. Bran notched his chin and braced himself.

“
I thee call. I thee command.

Power be bound.
I be gone.”

A flash of orange tainted smoke was all that remained of where he’d been standing.

Chapter
Twenty-four

It took another five minutes too long for the girl to make up her mind. We didn’t have a lot of options. I was getting colder and more exhausted. “I’m not in a sauna here,” I snarled at last. “Either go or stay but decide. Now.”

“You’re a bitch,” she mumbled as she slid into the water beside me.

“I know it.”

“That’s okay. I’m a bitch, too,” she said, gritting her teeth against the cold.

This time I did laugh. At times I could like this kid. “Hey, what’s your name?” I asked.

“Why? You want it for the tombstone?”

“Something like that.”

Tit for tat. Maybe I didn’t want her name. But in case only one of us lived, and I was going to give everything I had to make sure both of us did, but just in case, someone
should know what happened to their daughter or sister.

I glossed over my assumption that no way was I going to cash in today. It wasn’t an option.

“It’s Sabina,” she mumbled so quietly I almost missed it.

“Like that TV teenage witch?” That’d suck.

“No. I was named for a great aunt.”

“Sounds Irish.”

“Well, I’m not.”

If I could have lifted my hands to tell her I wasn’t the enemy
, I would have. Instead, I put temper in my voice. “Fine, Sabina. Get your ass over here before I forget I wanted to save you.”

The smile she gave me said, bring it on.

Good, we understood each other perfectly.

I eased myself out into the water while keeping my shoulder against the wall to my left. Almost immediately
, I could feel the sucking power of the whirlpool pulling both of us down. It was stronger than I’d expected.

Damn and double damn.

The girl—Sabina—eased herself over, dodging under my right arm until she was directly in front of me.

I swallowed, willing my stomach not to start heaving from the stench and the fear.

“I’ll count to three.” I maneuvered my left arm along her shoulder and under her chin, sensing her panic, which I ignored. No sense both of us giving into the terror churning through us.

“When I
say three I’ll start swimming backwards, pulling you by your neck.”

“You won’t choke me?”

Might, if she didn’t get her act together. But what I said was, “It could feel like that but it’s only to keep your nose and mouth out of the water.”

“Fine.”

“You keep your body in as straight a line as possible, floating.”

“Got
it.”

“One.” 
This so wasn’t going to work
.

“Two.”
Where was a decent power spell when you really needed one?

“Three.” I used my left foot to shove away from the wall, but even as I was pushing off
, Sabina grabbed onto the concrete lip even harder.

Oh, no you don’t
.

I tugged with all my might, which was considerable, more than I expected and almost submerged the two of us. Luckily
, most of my left side was smashed against the wall on that side so we weren’t sucked under. Yet.

Like a bobbing fishing lure in the hands of an incompetent angler
, we moved away from the lip, Sabina struggling and twisting, which was going to make it that much easier for the whirlpool to catch us and drag us down.

“Stop. Fighting,” I ground out through clenched
teeth. My head was barely above the sludge, opening my mouth to speak coherently was so not an option.

Either my anger got through, or the clutch of my arm around her neck cut off enough of her oxygen supply she couldn’t struggle as much, but she slowed her gyrations.

I used my free right arm to keep us moving across the pool, my legs almost useless except for a few feeble kicks. Sabina wasn’t doing that great a job back-floating on the water so last thing I wanted was our legs to entangle.

Just how far was twelve feet across anyway?

I felt I’d been dragging her dead weight for hours.

Stroke. Pull. Stroke.

I could have made it across the English Channel by now.

Only good thing was Sabina
seemed as determined as I was to keep her mouth clamped shut so no complaints spewed forth.

Stroke. Pull. Stroke.

When we got out, I was going to take a shower that lasted hours, days maybe.

Stroke. Pull. Stroke.

Had to be closer. I twisted my head to check the distance, biting back a moan when I calculated we’d gone less than halfway.

Then, just when I didn’t think I could be any more grossed out, my foot tangled with something beneath the water.

I jerked. My feet kicked against something solid and bulky. Yucky water splashed over both our faces.

Only my right hand kept us afloat and it wasn’t doing too good a job.

I used everything I had and then some to keep pulling. Even without using my feet, whatever was down there was blocking our forward movement.

We were going to die.

No one would ever know. All my father’s warnings about coming to a bad end because I was too willful roared through me.

That’s when Sabina started screaming.

If I thought she’d been difficult before, it was nothing to her thrashing now.

What the Mother Goddess
—

“Stop!” I gulped around the surge of liquids she caused to crest over both our faces, forcing me to squeeze both mouth and eyes closed.

When I opened my eyes I noticed her pointing fingers.

A hand bobbed above the water. Fingers curled into a grotesque fist
.

Call me sick but I almost laughed out loud. Not the ha-ha kind but the relief kind.

The Loch Ness monster wasn’t jamming us, only one of the dead Weres.

Only an IR agent a few weeks and I could be so callous about a dead person. But I’d take callous over fear of the unknown.

With a groan, I kicked at the submerged body, using it to push off for another foot of pool covered.

The hand disappeared. Sabina quit her banshee wailing. Only three more feet to swim.

Praise the Great Spirits, we might make it.