Saven Disclosure (The Saven Series Book 2) (34 page)

I brief Jarod quickly, filling him in on everything that happened while I was gone and informing him of the things we’ve learned.

He presses his fingertips to his temples. “Holy crap. Could things get any more complicated?” I wish he hadn’t verbalized that thought. Once you articulate things, they have a nasty habit of coming to fruition.

Things can always get more complicated.

We spend the next hour arguing over our choices. No matter which way we spin it, we end up putting someone or some group in danger. But right now, all I care about is getting my sister back safe and sound. I’m all on for breaking in there in the dead of night and stealing her away, but after Jarod shows us the maps and photos of the vast estate, it’s clear no human could easily penetrate that place.

Lucky we’re not all human then.

Before I can voice my suggestion, Neve teleports into the room with Alex. Throwing herself at me, she sobs freely as she admits how worried she was. Alex pries her snuffling form off me a few minutes later, attempting to console her. I gape at her as if she’s sprouted wings or horns or something. I’ve never seen her so emotional. Logan gives her the once-over as well. She sniffs, accepting a tissue from her boyfriend.

“I thought you were on the roadshow.” I hand her a glass of water.

Alex drapes his arm around her. “I was, but that was put on hold when the others traveled to Amara.”

“Father is furious with you,” Logan says, joining my side.

“For what?” My head flits between them.

“I was supposed to go with them to Amara, but I conveniently went AWOL.” She peeks at Alex through hooded lashes, her face brightening like the light of a thousand suns. “I had more important things to do here.”

Logan and I exchange a knowing look.
“She’s in love with him.”

“As he is with her.”
He threads his fingers in mine and smiles.
“I couldn’t recommend it more highly.”

“Could everyone stop making googly eyes for one second so we can figure out how to get Ella out from under the VP’s clutches,” Jarod snarls, not attempting to conceal his disgust. Shame whips me. He’s right. Saving my sister should be at the forefront of my mind.

Logan starts to retort, but I place a deterring hand on his arm. “Jarod is right. We have to stay focused. I’ve had an idea. We can teleport into the house and rescue her.”

“That’s all well and good in theory,” Haydn says, finally finding his voice. “But we don’t know the interior layout or where he’s keeping her, and judging by the amount of guards outside the property, I’d say there’s a fair chance we’d get caught before we locate her. We could teleport right into their clutches. It’s too risky.”

Though I’m frustrated, I know he’s right. “Let’s summarize,” I say, as much for our benefit as for the new arrivals. “Breaking into the place is a non-runner, teleporting too, as is pretending we don’t know that he has her. He will wait for us to show our hand or he’ll force us into a corner. We have intel he should be interested in, but we know, categorically, what he wants.” I stop short of saying it. While King Adjani is most definitely out of favor with me, and he’s fallen foul of Logan, he’s still his father, and I don’t want to be so blunt about the fact that the VP wants him dead. “My guess is he’ll refuse to release Ella until we deliver what he wants. I don’t think sitting here and waiting for him to call us out is the best option. I think we should walk up to his front door tonight and demand a meeting. Let’s get everything out on the table now. We can use the opportunity to scope the layout of his property and try to get a lock on where he’s keeping Ella. Then we can teleport back there later on and rescue her.”

Jarod cracks his knuckles. “There’s some merit to your plan, but it’s never that straightforward. What if he takes all of us prisoner?”

“He won’t. He needs me and Logan to get to the king, which is why I think only the two of us should go.”

Jarod, Haydn, and Logan all start yelling at me at once. I block them out and wait for the rant to run its course. Neve and I look at one another. Alex sneezes a couple of times, his entire body convulsing, and Neve’s eyes crack wide open. Turning into him, she talks in a low voice that I can’t detect.

Realizing the shouting has stopped, I face the mutinous crew in front of me. “I know it’s risky, but what’s the alternative?” I pin my hands on my hips as I face off with them.

“We could go to the president like we already agreed, tell him what the VP is planning, and that he’s kidnapped your sister, and—”

“No!” Jarod and I shout in unison.

“We don’t know if he’ll believe us, Logan, and if the VP gets wind of it, he’ll kill Ella. I can’t take that chance. The longer we stand around debating this, the more her life is in danger! You and I have got to do this. There is no other way.”

Alex sneezes in quick successive spurts and Neve emits a shrill cry. “Stars! You
are
sick!”

“It’s only a cold. Chill,” Alex says, grazing a hand across her cheek.

Neve’s panicky eyes meet mine.
What is going on with her?
I wish I had time to find out, but there’s been enough timewasting today. I march decidedly toward my bedroom to change into more suitable attire. “We’ll leave shortly,” I tell Logan.

Haydn and Logan are locked in a ferocious silent argument when I return.
“Do I even want to know?”

Logan narrows his eyes at Haydn as he bends over to kiss me.
“Nope.”

“Be careful,” is all Haydn says as he stalks out of the room.

“Ready?” Logan asks.

My nerves are starting to get the better of me. “Shouldn’t we bring weapons?” I think I’m starting to come around to Haydn’s way of thinking. My eyes dart between the boys.

“No point,” Jarod admits, scowling unhappily. “The guards will confiscate them. I still don’t like this.” He paces the room in obvious agitation.

“Hey.” I place my hands on his shoulders. “We will be okay. Try not to worry.”

“Stay safe.” He kisses me on the cheek. “Bring my girl home.”

Walking to Logan, I position myself in front of him. He fits me snugly to his body. “Let’s do this.” He punches buttons on his comport and then we’re off.

We land outside a tall bronze gate with an ornate crest adorning the front. Two startled guards recover in time to point their weapons at us.
“That was weird. I’d programmed the coordinates for the inside front entrance.”
Logan looks puzzled.

“Names!” the shorter, beefier guard snaps, and we relay them. He talks quietly into his comm-clip, as the other taller guard conducts a body search. Logan bristles as the guard pats me down. To be fair, he’s nothing but professional, but it’s an uncomfortable few minutes, all the same. “Bring them to the east wing,” the other guard says when he clicks off the call.

The subordinate guard is all sinewy muscle and zero personality as he escorts us inside the gate. We are prodded into seats in a blacked-out Humvee as he starts up the engine, and we glide along a densely tree-lined entrance. Fading rays of sunlight weave through the trees highlighting the magnificent rose garden to our left. Suffuse red and cream buds are artfully designed in an elegant centerpiece, mirroring the same crest as the one affixed to the entrance gate.

As we approach the imposing three-level red brick building, I inspect the line of heavily armed men stationed along the top of the roof. Jarod’s surveillance was on the money.

A massive marble water feature occupies prime position in front of the striking varnished doorway which rests on an elevated position atop a set of porcelain stairs. Two armed guards stand firmly at attention at the bottom of the steps, with two more at the top.

The VP’s preoccupation with security is a tad over the top.
What exactly is he so scared of?

Curving from the center of the water feature is a statue of two intertwined angels. Their contorted faces point heaven bound, and their wings are expansively wide and intricate in detail. One of the angel’s hands is clear through the other angel’s wing, leaving the impression of a bloody, gaping hole. It’s an impressive if unusual design, capturing a marriage of light and dark, innocence and evil, and I wonder if there’s some significance behind his choice.

I’d wager a guess that the price of that statue alone would feed half my sector for a year. Bile rises in my throat.

The Humvee crunches on gravel as it swings a sharp right. I sway against Logan, and he extends an arm to steady me. When the Humvee veers left, I clutch the seat in front. The guard brings the vehicle to a remarkably smooth stop outside a rather ordinary looking entrance. Three concrete steps lead to an old-fashioned mahogany wooden door with a solid black lead knocker.

Logan exits the vehicle, extending a hand to me. Gripping me securely, he follows our escort up the steps and through the door.

It’s not at all how I imagined it to be. Having worked with Horace Tonnard for weeks, I thought I’d a good handle on the VP’s tastes, but casting a glance around, I realize I don’t know the man at all. The musty scent of mildew lingers in the air as we step through his home. Our footsteps ricochet loudly on the dark hardwood floor. We follow our guide through a gloomy, barely lit hallway. A wide, sloping staircase, with a mahogany balustrade, extends lavishly on our right, leading to the upper levels. A gargantuan oil painting of a very severe-looking man consumes the wall above the stairwell.

The soldier troops purposefully ahead, and I gulp at the odd wall-mounted fixtures. Animals with wide-open jaws and jagged teeth loom over us, as if poised to rip out our throats. Sepia-style photographs and pictures fill the space in between the dead animals. Logan and I share apprehensive looks as the guard dips his head and enters a low, narrow passageway.
“I don’t have a good feeling about this, Sadie.”

“I know. This place is as creepy as the bowels of hell.”
The soldier opens a door at the end, and we descend deeper and deeper into the building. I’ve counted fifty steps by the time my foot hits solid ground again.

An icy chill rips through the moldy air, and I shiver repeatedly. Cobwebs possessively cling to the exposed stone ceilings and corner crevices as we pass by. Logan strengthens his hold on my hand.
“Stay right beside me. If things turn nasty I want to be able to teleport at any moment.”

I subtly nod as our guide rounds the bend and comes to a standstill. “Wait here,” he barks out. Stepping through a solid black door, he leaves us alone in the dank, spooky passageway.

“It feels like we’re journeying through the fiery pits of hell and now we’re waiting for an audience with the devil himself.”

“This place gives me the willies.”

I can’t help it; I snort with laughter.
“I can’t believe you just said that. That’s so old-fashioned. When all this end-of-the-world stuff is over, I’m definitely overhauling your vocab.”

The door opens and my laughter withers and dies. “Follow me,” Mr. Personality says in a tone that suggests he too is part of the Underworld.

Bare brickwork lines the corridor on both sides as we silently follow the guard. I’m guessing this part of the building is really old. My teeth chatter and the tip of my nose feels frozen solid in the subzero temperature. Internal weariness sends an untimely reminder that I’m not operating on full batteries. I wish I’d thought to pop a couple of pain pills before we left. I press the tiny patch on my upper arm, hoping there’s some juice left in it. Logan watches and frowns.

The guard careers to a halt in front of an open walkway, and we nearly crash into him. The VP materializes in the doorframe, a fake smile plastered on his face. “Look who finally reappeared.” Stepping sideways, he gestures us in. The room is rectangular, and sparse, and the only furniture is a line of seats positioned in front of a row of symmetrical circular shapes carved in regular intervals into the stone wall. An ominous sense of foreboding swaddles me in a cloak of despair. The transparent gloating on his face lets me know that he knows it too.

“What have you done with my sister?”

He clicks his tongue. “Have I not taught you anything about the finer points of negotiation? You always feign politeness no matter how impatient you are.” He pins me with an expectant look.

“Seriously?” I arch my brows. “We’re really doing this?”

He steps toward me, amusement illuminating the whites of his eyes. “You know, my dear, I had actually grown quite fond of you until you pulled this stunt.”

“It wasn’t a stunt,” I grit out. “I was kidnapped.”

“Yes, yes,” he says, waving his hand dismissively, “I’ve since discovered that. I was very disappointed in you. You see,” he says, shifting position so he’s now facing Logan, “We had a deal. And I made it very clear to your precious Eterno what would happen to her sister if she failed to honor her side of the bargain.”

My heart lurches to my toes at the sinister implication. Logan glowers at the VP, and oh, how I wish he’d the ability to shoot fire out of his eyes or poisonous smoke from his nostrils. The Saven definitely drew the short straw when it came to superpowers. The VP steps close to Logan and leans in. “Your filthy mind tricks don’t work on me. Save your energy.” He taps his arm patronizingly.