“Send me the address. Now,” I command.
“I will, but Nate, you have to be careful. They’ve had him for days, trying to get information—”
I hang up the phone as soon as my phone dings with the location, unable to hear any more.
It’s a ten-hour drive, and I have to get moving. I’m running on zero sleep, anxiety, and overwhelming rage.
I let this happen. I introduced him to this kind of misery.
Therefore, it’s my job to save him. I… I have to protect what’s mine.
Landon
19
MY HEADHURTS. BETWEENthe constant rain of clenched fists battering my body and the ropes around my wrists and ankles, I have no hope of a reprieve.
These men—they’re angry with me. They want information about my Uncle Benji, such as where he’s living and how to contact him. But I refuse. If they want to beat me and use my gift, fine. I will not give them Uncle Benji.
It is the last good thing I can do; my last-ditch effort at making my family proud.
“Where is he?” one of the men asks again, swinging his fist and slamming his knuckles against my already busted lip.
I spit blood, but the black cloth in my mouth catches it and makes me cough. All around me, coating the concrete, is red.
I’m unsure as to why they can’t find my uncle themselves, especially when it was so easy to findme. They must have been tracking me, waiting for me to be alone.
But I still have hope—even if it is stupid. Hope that Nate saw them grab me, and he’s either narrowing down my location or building himself an army to come and save me.
He doesn’t hate me, after all. He wants to make the darkness disappear. I… Imeansomething to him, even if I’m bratty and a little irresponsible in his eyes.
The man delivers another kick to my stomach, rocking the metal chair I’m tied to as his buddy laughs. “I willnotask you again, boy. Where is he?”
They’re both wearing masks, so I can’t truly identify them. Even if I make it out alive, I won’t be able to report them correctly. I guess that’s the point of masks, though.
“Not answering?” the other guy asks, and he sounds delighted by the chance to hit me again. “Fine. We’ll show you why—”
“Enough, Repressor Kevin,” a strong, commanding voice calls out.
The only door in this building, a small one in the far back corner, has opened. Several people walk in, but all I can see is how the light has faded into darkness outside.
How many days have I been here? It feels like forever.
“How can you expect him to answer as he’s forced to be silent? He’s choking on his own blood, is he not?” The man talking is tall, well-built, and wearing a pressed suit.
On his left breastplate is a small patch that readsWatchers. He wears no ski mask and looks almost as if he’s just stepped from a business meeting. There are three others with him, all dressed the exact same way.
What the fuck is a watcher?
“My name is Joseph,” the man says, shooing the two ski-masked men away with a flick of his wrist. “I am the head of the council at EP.”
I can say nothing, so I just stare right at him. I’m not scared.Someonewill come to save me; I just know it.
Joseph gives me a curious smile, his head cocking. “Right, you can’t speak. Cecilia, my dear, the B109, please.”
Thewhat?
But I have no time to be curious, because a vial of blue liquid is being presented, and a woman with short, platinum blonde hair is ripping the cloth from my mouth.
