The Darkest Whisper (Lords of the Underworld #4)(93)
Author: Gena Showalter

With a laugh, the boy tossed the water at the girl. Not a single drop touched her.

Sabin had suspected they would be here, but was still shocked to see them. Despite their unusual abilities, they were just children. How could the Hunters use them like this? Place them in such danger?

Sabin replaced one of his semiautomatics with a tranq gun. He didn’t want to do this, but it was the best—and safest—solution for everyone involved. What was Gwen doing? Was she inside? Hurt? Without pause, he began nailing the kids with darts. One by one, they sank into unconsciousness. He quickly dragged them out of the water and laid them in the shade, never once releasing his weapons.

Finally, he was ready to enter the house. To help Gwen.

“You filthy animal! What have you done?”

Sabin whipped around. A Hunter had just taken aim at him, fired. A bullet slammed into his right shoulder. Wincing, he hammered out another round from his Sig. One bullet hit the Hunter’s neck, the other his chest. He slumped over, gasping. When his skull cracked against the ground, the gasping stopped.

Bleeding, unconcerned by the pain, Sabin rushed inside the building, sheathing the tranq in favor of the second semiautomatic. Already Hunters littered the floor, motionless. Gwen. Sabin’s heart swelled with pride. Maybe it was wrong of him, but he really loved her dark side. She was magic on a battlefield.

He followed the trail of adult bodies through the winding hallways. Some of the rooms were bedrooms with multiple bunk beds, some were classrooms. There were tiny desks and artwork on the walls; every single piece showed a demon being tortured. There were even signs. A perfect world is a world without demons. When the demons are gone, there will be no sickness, no death. No evil. Lost someone you love? You know who to blame.

Oh, yes. The children were being trained to hate the Lords from birth. Fabulous. Sabin had done some bad shit in his life, but never had he taught hatred to an innocent.

“Bastard!” he heard Gwen shout, followed by a howl of pain.

Increasing his speed, Sabin followed the sound, saw a man hunched over and grabbing his crotch. He didn’t know what had happened and he didn’t care to stop and ask. He simply aimed his Sig and fired three rounds. No one hurt Gwen.

Gwen whirled around, claws bared. Those tiny wings fluttered madly under her shirt. The death-glaze faded when she realized who stood before her. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

“I found your friends. They’re hurt, but alive. I released them, but two are missing. Gideon and Anya.”

First—she’d already found and released them? Holy hell. She was faster and better than even he had known. Second—where the hell were the others? Locked up? “Anya?” he shouted. “Gideon?”

“Sabin? Sabin, is that you?” a woman called from down the hall. Anya. “It’s about damn time. I’m back here. With a guard.”

Sabin looked at Gwen just as three males flew into the room, their expressions wild. “Got ’em?” he asked.

“Go on.” She faced the newest challenge. “Get Anya.”

He took off in a run. He would have left any of his men, and Gwen was a better fighter than all of them put together, so he had no doubt of her success. No doubt. The thought made him smile.

As he moved, he exchanged a gun for a blade. He was almost out of bullets. Thankfully, a knife never needed refilling. Where are you, Anya? He burst through one door—empty. He shouldered his way through another, hinges splintering. Nothing. Three more rooms, and there she was, eyeing a little boy, both her shoulders stained crimson.

That boy turned to him, expression determined. There was something…off about him, as though he wasn’t three-dimensional.

“Sabin!” When Anya darted to one side, the boy quickly followed, swiping out an arm.

“I have to keep her here,” he said, but he didn’t sound happy about it.

Slowly Sabin sheathed his blade and reached behind him, curling his fingers around the handle of the tranq gun.

“Don’t touch him,” Anya rushed out, “and don’t let him touch you. You’ll go down without warning.”

“Anya!”

Sabin recognized the voice as Death’s, so he didn’t turn as footsteps approached. He kept his gaze on the boy, ready to jump at him despite Anya’s warning if he went after the goddess again.

“Lucien! Stay back, baby, but tell me you’re okay?” Anya’s face lit with a mixture of pleasure and worry. “I have to know you’re okay.”

“I’m fine. You? Oh, gods.” Lucien came up behind him and sucked in a breath. Sabin could feel waves of fury pulsing off him. “Your shoulders.”

“Just a little scratch.” There was fire in the words, a promise of retribution.

Keeping his hand behind his back, Sabin held the tranq out to Lucien. “Not sure it’ll do any good, but I’m going to leave you to it. Gideon’s still missing.” The warrior took the weapon without a word, and Sabin spun on his heel.

He continued bursting into rooms. Several were padded. One was filled with computers and other technology. One was stuffed with enough canned food to last a lifetime. Down another hall he turned, shouting Gideon’s name. These rooms had thicker locks and fingerprint IDs. Heart pounding, Sabin pressed his ear to each door until he finally, blessedly heard a whimper.

Gideon.

Urgency flooding him, he pried at the slit in the center. His muscles strained, his bones nearly popped out of joint, his wound reopened, but he worked the edge until the metal opened enough to squeeze through. First thing he noticed was the broken and bleeding form strapped to a gurney. A sickening sense of déjà vu hit him.

He crossed the distance, bile rising in his throat. Gideon’s eyelids were so swollen it looked as if rocks were buried underneath them. Bruises colored every inch of his naked body. Many of his bones were broken and protruding through skin.

Both of his hands had been chopped off.

“They’ll grow back, I swear to the gods they’ll grow back,” Sabin whispered as he pulled at the bonds. They were strong. Too strong, comprised of some sort of—godly?—metal. He couldn’t even hack through them with a blade.

“Key. Not there.” Gideon’s voice was so weak, Sabin barely heard it. But the warrior motioned to a cabinet with a tilt of his chin. Sure enough, a key dangled there. “Didn’t taunt me…with it.”

“Save your strength, my friend.” He spoke gently, but rage was pouring through him, consuming him, becoming the only thing he knew. Those bastards were going to pay for this. Every single one of them and a thousand times over. He needed to be punished as well, he thought. He’d sworn never to let this kind of thing happen to his comrade again, yet here they were, practically reliving the past.