Risk (A Mageri World Novel) (18 page)

W
hen Ella reached
the Red Door, she circled around the block, just in case Simon had parked along the street or at an adjacent building. Since it was a Breed club, she also wanted to scope the area and make sure there weren’t any juicers hanging out. Just in case, she concealed her light so that no Mage could detect her. It wouldn’t guarantee her safety since some juicers were so strung out that they’d stoop to stealing energy from humans, but most wouldn’t bother because human light was weak and the risk of killing them too great. Killing a bunch of humans outside their favorite Breed hangouts would attract Enforcers—the lawmen of the Mageri.

She pulled into the parking lot across the street and searched for Simon’s black GTO. That car suited his style, whereas the Maserati matched his ego.

She spotted Simon’s car near the back row of the lot and looped back around to find a parking space. The moon dipped behind the clouds, creating false shadows that moved all about. She emerged from the car, her eyes alert as she approached his vehicle.

When the moon reappeared, the first thing she noticed was the drag marks leading to his open driver’s side door. Ella scanned the inside of his car but didn’t find any clues. The key was still in the ignition, the window down—But wait.

Simon had a small flashlight on his keychain, so she unhooked it from the ring and switched it on. She ran her fingers over a small rip in the seat and shone the light on her hand. Coagulated blood smeared between her fingertips, and she backed away from the car, gathering her thoughts. Someone must have moved in on him fast, and she wondered what could have distracted Simon enough to be so easily caught.

And taken.

Who could have taken him? Ella knew a little about what he did for a living, so he must have hundreds of enemies. Especially with his big mouth.

She searched outside the car for clues, unable to spot any security cameras. Not that she would have known how to go about getting the footage, but a guy like Levi might.

Levi…

She sent him a quick message about what she’d found. He replied that he was still “talking” to the men who’d attacked them and had found a lead. When she asked what, he didn’t reply. She sent him a few choice words and then kicked a tire. Simon obviously had a confidentiality agreement with Levi, so she tried every angle.

Ella reined in some of her anger that was starting to leak. When a message came through, Ella glanced at her phone.

Ella’s heart quickened. Boris? First, she’s supposed to bond with him, and now she finds out he’d sent his men to kill her? None of this made any sense.

A shadow crept up the side of the car, and she spun on her heel, shining her light in Hannah’s face.

Hannah clasped her hands in front of her. “I had a feeling you’d run to Simon. I can’t understand why anyone would spend time in a place like this,” she said, looking around.

The Red Door was on the way to Simon’s, and Hannah must have swung by and either saw Boris’s car or felt Ella’s energy leaking.

Hannah narrowed her eyes. “I should have known you could read lips. You were always an astute Learner. I don’t know how much you understand, but you obviously followed my conversation with Boris just fine. You can’t run from your fate, Ella. Sometimes you have to make difficult choices that are in your best interest. Despite your improvements, I fear it will take far too long before you’re fit to live independently, if that’s even possible. I simply cannot take on that responsibility.”

Ella stepped back. She was no match for Hannah, whose light surpassed her own.

Hannah tilted her head to the side, her tight expression softening. “Dear Ella. I do all this for you, with your best interest in mind. You’ve never understood that; you never will.”

Ella’s future had never seemed so bleak. She could either run and face charges of treason for disobeying the orders of a Councilwoman, or she could willingly bond with a man she didn’t even know. And yet despite her immediate dilemma, all she could think about was Simon. It was as if her other half was missing, and she didn’t know if she would want to live in a world that didn’t include him in it. And not because she wanted to be with him, although the thought elated her more than she’d expected, but because Simon was a perfect light—someone with a loyal heart. Someone she admired and wanted to be. Intelligent, self-sufficient, cunning, strong, and capable. Maybe he’d been paid to teach her, but he had done much more than that. He’d fought beside her as an equal—as a partner. That afternoon had been the first time she’d felt like she might have a place in this world where she could hold her own, and Simon admired her strengths and didn’t tolerate self-pity or excuses.

As she stared into the cold blue eyes of her Creator, she realized she was condemned to follow someone because of a law—not because of what was best for her. If Hannah truly had her best interests in mind, she would give her to someone like Simon, not some older man with a skinny mustache who smells like salami.

Fleeing was a powerful temptation, but Ella could never live a life on the run from the Mageri.

Ella dropped the flashlight and decided to meet her fate head-on.

* * *

W
hile meditating the pain away
, Simon had fallen into a trancelike state with his eyes open, gazing at the moon. He’d tried to free himself once, but one of the coils below him had buckled and sent him farther down, twisting his right ankle and threatening to shear it off.

“Wire cutters,” he murmured, still gazing at the moon. “Need to invent a tiny pair.”

Some immortals wore cargo pants with numerous pockets hiding lightweight tools or weapons. Simon never had, but given his current predicament, he was beginning to reconsider his wardrobe.

The crickets were chirping a steady tune that filled his head and helped him meditate. Until they were interrupted by shouts in the distance.

“Simon!”

As Levi’s shouts grew louder, Simon wanted to flail his arms in frustration. “Why not shoot off fireworks and tell everyone where you are?” he murmured, wondering if Boris’s minions had returned.

Then again, Levi was a Chitah, and Chitahs were Mages’ mortal enemies. When their canines pushed through, a bite with all four had enough venom to kill a Mage. Two caused paralysis, and very few were ever bitten with three to find out what would happen. The venom didn’t seem to have an effect on any other Breed.

“Simon!” he bellowed. “I can smell you.”

“Can you smell my irritation?” he said quietly, having second thoughts about this whole affair. “Take a whiff of those dirty socks on your feet while you’re at it.”

“Don’t be an asshole!” Levi yelled out, drawing closer. “I can smell the blood, and I know you can hear me because your scent keeps changing, you dickhead.”

“For the love of
all that is holy
,” Simon shouted. “I’m down here, you oversized house cat!”

He grimaced when some of the wounds on his back reopened. It wasn’t until the moment Levi’s silhouette hovered over the trench that Simon felt shame down to his core. He didn’t want anyone to see him this way—weak, incapable, vulnerable.

He waited for the laughter.

It never came.

“I got you,” Levi said, kneeling down. “Stay still and let me get a look.” Chitahs could see better in the dark than most, and with a little moonlight, he’d be able to get an eyeful of Simon lying in a bed of barbed wire. “Be right back!”

He disappeared. Maybe he went to get a camera. Levi was the sort of prankster that would do just that.

Simon’s arms and legs tingled to life as the blood in his body was slowly replenished. His energy was a different matter. A Mage without energy was like a battery without a charge.

Levi reappeared and beamed a flashlight in Simon’s eyes.

“Bloody hell! Quit pointing that thing at me.”

“That’s what he said,” Levi quipped.

“You’re a regular comedian.”

“I’m also a man with wire cutters,” he pointed out, holding up the tool in his left hand.

Simon reached up. “Toss them to me.”

“The hell I’m throwing them down there. You’ll lose them.”

Simon’s jaw set. “I suppose you think you’re going to leap down here and be a hero? Brilliant idea. Then we’ll both be tangled up.”

Levi smirked. “Kind of been a dream of mine for years. Now shut up and let me think.”

“The smoke is already churning out of your ears.”

Levi set down the flashlight and pulled off his shirt. Simon listened to the sound of fabric tearing and almost wanted to laugh. This story would either end up great in the retelling or become one of the most embarrassing stories he’d have to endure at every party where Levi was present.

Levi got down on all fours and lowered a long strip of fabric with the cutters tied to the end. The shears were heavy-duty compared to the smaller ones most people kept in their toolbox. When Simon reached for them, his phone slid off his stomach and hit the ground below. It sounded like another four feet of barbed wire below him, which wasn’t a pleasant thought. There was a little more than five feet between him and Levi—close enough that Simon might be able to reach up for his hand if he could get himself untangled.

The first thing he did was cut the wire that had been tightly pulling his right shoulder and digging into his neck. Once free, he carefully snipped at surrounding wires, playing a game that was similar to Jenga. One wrong move might cause a wire to recoil and send him on his merry way.

“I can’t reach my ankle,” he said, attempting to sit forward.

“Cut the wires near your leg,” Levi suggested. “It might loosen things.”

Simon put the jaws of the cutters around a wire that wrapped over his right shin. “Ever play that game Operation?”

“I don’t play games,” Levi fired back.

“Could have fooled me.”

“Fine. Tell me about the game.”

Simon steadied his hand and squeezed the grip. The wire sprang free and scraped his leg in the process. “It’s the one with the man lying on an operating table, and you have to retrieve all the body parts with tweezers.”

“Sounds like a fun game. I’ll be sure to buy that for my niece.”

Barbs cut into Simon’s hand as he leaned closer to his ankle. “It requires concentration, and if you hesitate for just one moment, then your tweezers touch the metal and electrocute you.”

“Jesus Christ. They sell that shit to kids?”

Simon glared at a wire digging into his shin. “Not for real, you bonehead. But that’s the idea; that’s the lesson you learn from the game. You have to make careful moves or there are consequences. Not just for you, but for the person you’re helping. You just handed me a big pair of tweezers.”

Levi cursed under his breath.

Simon’s shoulder was killing him where he’d been stabbed with the stunner, but he fought through the pain and gritted his teeth, realizing that this last cut was going to be the bitch of them all. The cords of muscle in his arm locked tight when he squeezed the handle, uncertain if the shears would cut through. When the wire snapped free, it pulled away and sliced his leg as it retracted to the darkness below.

Simon shouted out in pain.

“Justus is on his way,” Levi informed him.

A flurry of laughter erupted out of Simon. “You should have invited everyone. Why not make it a party?”

“Why the fuck would anyone dig a trench like this around an old building?”

“Either it was already here and he bought it this way, or he had plans. Seems like a Shifter thing to do. Some of those blokes like setting traps across their land.”

“You must have really pissed someone off.”

Simon glared up at him. “Are you going to keep flapping your gums, or can I concentrate before I amputate my leg?”

Levi cleared his throat. “Sorry.”

“These were my favorite leathers,” Simon muttered.

He couldn’t see his toes because the wires were dragging his ankle down. He was just relieved that he’d thought to put his pants on before falling into this sodding pit. Some of the sharp pieces of metal were burrowed into his flesh, resting on bone. Sweat trickled down his brow as he slowly leaned forward, attempting to bend his knee to draw his foot closer. The tension below him shifted, and he held his breath.

Simon wedged one end of the shears beneath the wire. It was likely going to pinch some of his skin in the process, but he shut his eyes and squeezed with all the energy he had left.

A loud click sounded and nothing happened. He went for a second piece, grabbing a thick bed of wires beneath him to steady himself. His heart raced at a wicked beat, so he drew in a slow breath and calmed himself. After all, he wasn’t going to die from this. But he still wasn’t a fan of getting sliced up like a vegetable on a cutting board.

The wire snapped, and a terrible sound whipped through the air as it sprang free from his leg. Everything began moving below him, turning him toward the right. He quickly compensated by leaning the other way. Whoever had constructed this had done so with the intent of trapping their victims with enough wire that they would maim themselves in the process of escape. Uncertain if he might need the cutters again, he bit down on one of the rubber handles and held it in his mouth.