“Icarus,” Blake said quietly.

Nodding, Daemon’s shoulders tensed as he quickly typed in the code. There was a mechanical clicking, a low hum followed, and then the gate shuddered. It swung open, beckoning us like a rolled-out red carpet.

Daemon motioned us forward. We sped across the field, taking a couple of heartbeats to reach the doors Luc and Blake had confirmed. I came up behind Daemon as they searched the wall.

“Where’s the damn keypad?” Dawson demanded, pacing between the doors.

I stepped back and forced my gaze to move left to right slowly. “There.” I pointed toward the right. The pad was small, stuck back behind the overlay.

Andrew jogged to it, glancing over his shoulder. “Ready?”

Dawson glanced down at me and then at the middle door in front of us. “Yes.”

“Labyrinth,” Daemon murmured from behind us. “And please, God, spell it correctly.”

Andrew snickered and keyed in the code. I wanted to squeeze my eyes shut just in case we ended up with a dozen guns leveled at our faces. The door before us slid open, revealing the space beyond inch by inch.

No guns. No people.

I let out the breath I was holding.

Beyond the door was a wide orange tunnel and at the end were the elevators. Not even a hundred feet and all we had to do was get to those elevators and go down six floors. Blake knew the cells.

We were seriously going to do this.

The door was wide enough for two people to move through at once, but Dawson stepped forward first. Understandable, considering what he had to gain by night’s end. I followed behind. As he moved under the doorframe, there was a sound of air releasing, a small puffing noise.

Dawson dropped like he’d been shot, but there’d been no blast. One second he was standing in the doorway and the next he was on the other side, withering on the floor, his mouth opened in a silent scream.

“No one moves,” Andrew ordered.

Time stopped. The hair on the back of my neck rose. I looked up. A row of tiny nozzles, barely even noticeable, faced down. Too late, I realized in horror. The puffing sound came again.

Red-hot pain seared through my skin, as if a thousand tiny knives were slicing me apart from the inside, attacking every cell. Every part of my body erupted as I dragged in a scorching breath. My legs crumbled and I went down, unable to even ease the fall. My cheek smacked off the concrete, that flash of pain nothing compared to the fire ravaging my body.

Brain cells were scrambled and twisted. Muscles locked up in panic and pain. My eyelids were peeled open. Lungs tried to expand, to drag in air, but there was something wrong with the air—it scalded my mouth and throat. Somewhere, in the distant part of me that could still function, I knew what this was.

Onyx—airborne, weaponized onyx.

Chapter 22

My body spasmed uncontrollably as waves of pain rocked through me. Distantly, I could hear panicked voices, and I tried to process what they were saying. Nothing made sense but the deep, slicing agony of the onyx.

Strong hands gripped my arms and the anguish skyrocketed. My mouth opened and a hoarse gasp escaped. Then I was lifted up, my face pressed against something warm and solid. I recognized the fresh scent.

Then we were flying.

We had to be, because we were moving so fast that the wind howled and roared in my ears. My eyes were open, but everything was dark as my skin felt like it was being flayed open with tiny razors.

When we slowed down, I thought I heard Dee’s shocked cry and then someone said river. We were flying again, and I didn’t know where Dawson was or if they had gotten to him on the other side of the door.

All I knew was the pain pumping through my body, the racing of my pulse and thundering heart.

It felt like hours before we stopped again, but I knew it had to be only minutes. Damp, cold air that smelled musky blew over us.

“Hold on to me.” Daemon’s voice was harsh in my ears. “It’s going to be cold, but the onyx is all over your clothes and hair. Just hold on, okay?”

I couldn’t answer, and I thought that if it was all over me, it had to be on Daemon. It had to be on him the whole way from Mount Weather to the river, which was miles. He had to be hurting.

Daemon stepped forward, slid a few feet down, and then let out a muttered curse. Moments later, the shock of icy water hit my legs and even through the pain, I tried to scramble up Daemon’s body to escape, but he kept going out farther and the ice lapped up my waist.

“Hold on,” he said again. “Just hold on for me.”

Then we slipped under and my breath was stolen again. Shaking my head vigorously, sediment was stirred in the murky water and my hair floated around my face, blinding me. But the fire of the onyx… It was fading.

Arms tightened around me, and then we were propelled up. As my head broke the surface, I dragged in air by the lungful. Stars cartwheeled and blurred, and Daemon moved us out of the water to the bank.

Water splashed a few feet away and as my vision cleared, Blake and Andrew dragged Dawson out of the water, laying him on the bank. Blake sat down next to him, thrusting his hands through his soaked hair.

My heart dropped. Was he…?

Dawson flung an arm over his face as he bent one leg. “Crap.”

Relief made my knees weak. I felt Daemon’s hands on my cheeks and then he turned my face to his. Bright green eyes met mine.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “Say something, Kitten. Please.”

I forced my chilled lips to move. “Wow.”

His brows lowered as he shook his head, confounded, and then he threw his arms around me, squeezing me so tightly I squealed.




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