Page 67 of Shai

“You pulled it off, Elijah. I knew you could.”

He wasn’t making sense again. If he’d known I could do it, that would mean… Scraping together my last vestiges of energy, I pushed him back so that I could see him properly. I scoured his face for evidence of the nasty suspicion that had taken root in my brain. “You sent me there to do that.”

Shai’s laugh was deep and throaty. “Of course I did. Oh, Elijah, you didn’t think the idea was your own, did you?”

I was reeling, a million ideas and memories all competing for space in my brain, all jostling each other as they tried to sort themselves into some sort of cohesive conclusion. They all led to the same realization—that I’d been manipulated into being Shai’s secret weapon without ever being aware of it. He’d played me from the start, every action and conversation cleverly choreographed, from showing me where the poison was kept, to detailing what would make it undetectable. Some of the questions he’d asked about McIntyre now made perfect sense. Does he take your clothes off you? How much freedom do you get? How long does he keep you in the basement for?

I was a Trojan horse. He’d maneuvered something McIntyre would never have seen as a threat right into the heart of McIntyre’s compound, and provided me with the means to take him down. All those pep talks. All those comments about me being a survivor had all been about grooming me for the role he’d slotted me into. No wonder he’d never shared his plan. I was the plan. My head throbbed, the need to rationalize everything taking a back seat to the cravings growing stronger by the minute.

Grabbing Shai’s arm, I pushed his manipulation to the back of my mind.

I’d think about it once I was strong enough, once my body had had its fix. “I need Void. Where is it? Give it to me.”

Shai shook his head, the look in his eyes the closest to earnest I’d ever

seen it. “Sorry, Elijah. Bad news. No more Void for you. I’m afraid it’s served its purpose. It’s time to clean up your act.”

“What?” I lay my hands flat against his chest, the skin warm beneath

my palms. This had to be another game. He just wanted me to beg. “I need it. You have to give it to me. It’s the only reason I came back.” That wasn’t the right thing to say, as well as being blatantly untrue. “I mean, not the only reason, but…”

Shai’s voice cut across me. “I’d stop talking if I was you. You’re not

doing yourself any favors.”

He took hold of my arm and steered me through the door, and along the

corridor. Shai kept going past the door where I usually slept, not stopping until we reached another door. He opened it and I was faced with a room that looked more like a cell. There was nothing in it, except for a bare mattress at its center. Shai gave me a gentle shove and I stumbled into the room. “Callaghan will be here soon to clean you up and stitch your arm. I’ll see you on the other side, Elijah.”

“Other side of what?” I’d asked the question to wood, the door already

closed. The key turned in the lock as I threw myself against the door and shouted Shai’s name. And then there was only the sound of footsteps walking away, followed by silence.

Shai

I DIDN’ T HAVE to turn to know it was Taylor approaching. I recognized the sound of his footsteps. He walked in long strides, slightly favoring his left side as a result of an old injury. Whereas if it had been Wyatt, the pace would have been more rapid and balanced. I could identify all my men from the way they walked. As for Elijah, he walked like he was constantly trying to sneak up on someone, his footsteps light and cautious. Not that he’d been anywhere in the last two weeks, except for the room that I’d put him in.

“He’s still demanding to see you.”

“Elijah?” It was a waste of a question. Who else would Taylor be referring to? I’d put him in charge of Elijah’s supervision, so a lot of our recent conversations had been about him. And then I got to have the exact same conversation with Callaghan, only with more of a medical slant to it.

“Yeah, at least”—Taylor let out a snort steeped in humor—“I assume he’s still referring to you when he says that fucking bastard. I can’t think of anyone else the label fits. I thought he’d have calmed down by now.”

I suppressed the small smile threatening to break free. “Then you don’t know him very well.”

“And you do?” There was a genuine note of curiosity in Taylor’s voice.

I turned to face him, the bruises from his short stay courtesy of McIntyre all but gone, save for a slight discolored smudge on his temple. “I know him as well as I know my own body. Perhaps even better. I spent weeks learning the way he thinks and the way he reacts to situations.”

Taylor raised an eyebrow, but chose not to question me any further.

“Callaghan said the drug is well and truly out of his system. How much longer are you going to keep him in there? He’s climbing the walls and getting more and more hostile by the day. Maybe if you at least spoke to him.”

It was my turn to raise an eyebrow. “Since when have you been on

Elijah’s side? I distinctly remember you offering to drop him back at the bottom of the river.”

Taylor’s shrug was tinged with sheepishness. “Well, that was before.”