Page 10

“Wait here, Zo,” I said, following Daphne down the stairs.

“Wasn’t planning on going in the creepy, high-security dungeon anyway,” she said.

Unable to see as well as the other supes, I pulled a flashlight from my belt and shined it toward my feet. The stairs were made of cold metal, no banister to guide the way down the narrow, circular descent.

“Hey! Who’s there?” someone shouted from below.

I hurried to the bottom and nearly ran into Sam’s back. He stood still, head cocked and watching, as Daphne darted about the long, rectangular corridor with the grace of a dancer, taking down guard after guard until three were unconscious and the last one’s neck was between her muscular legs as she squeezed the air out of him.

“Damn, she’s good,” Sam whispered with reverence as Daphne swiped her hands together and gestured toward a door.

When it refused to open for us, Daphne bent to search for one of the guard’s keycards. But Sam punched the metal, denting it so hard it left the imprint of his fist. One more hit and the whole thing squealed and fell inward onto a bright yellow carpet surrounded by several bunk beds, all empty except for one straight ahead where a girl sat, mouth open, staring at the warped door.

“It’s okay,” I said, grabbing Sam and Daphne’s shoulders to stop them from rushing forward and terrifying the poor thing even more.

The girl on the bed cocked her head, sending her mop of dark hair spilling over her shoulder and onto the mattress. “I know.”

“You…know,” I repeated. Echoing was what happened when I didn’t know what to do.

Nodding, she flicked her eyes over my shoulder.

“Then come with us,” Sam said from behind. “We’ll get you somewhere safe.”

“Not yet. You need to fight some more of them first.”

Before I could respond, the sound of firearms racking came from behind. I spun, arms out, just as the first guard leveled the wicked-looking rifle at Sam’s half-shifted chest. With one flick of my finger, the weapon flew through the air, plucked from his hands and sent straight to mine.

The man’s shocked face blurred as an enormous silver wolf tackled him to the ground, dagger-like teeth ripping into his throat. Blood sprayed like a fountain as chaos rained down around me. Daphne fought two guards at once with some form of martial arts to my left, and over the busted metal door, another three black-uniformed people ran through, guns braced. Sam tackled one with a snarl as a second swung the long black barrel of her firearm at his muzzle, meeting it with a crack that made me wince.

The last guard looked at me, glanced down at the gun in my hands and raised hers. But I’d already called it to me, and it jerked free of her grip obediently, landing in my other hand.

Instead of shock, her face registered frustration as her aura blazed red with rage. I dropped one gun as she launched herself at me. I wasn’t about to shoot her—not only would I have nightmares for years, I had no clue how to handle a weapon like that properly. So, using the training Daphne had drilled into me over the last weeks, I dropped and swept out my leg. She might’ve been angry, but she was good. She wobbled, caught her balance, coming to a full stop, and dove on top of me.

Instinct kicked in along with my training, and I threw my weight to the side, forcing us into a continuous log roll where we vied for top position, leaving the other gun somewhere behind us on the yellow carpet.

I lost, ending up pinned by the hips between her unnaturally strong thighs. I opened my mouth to use mind-bending, deciding the inevitable headache would be worth it, when her fingers wrapped around my throat and cut off my air supply.

My fingers scrabbled at the heavy rug beneath me, accomplishing nothing but impaling sunflower-colored fibers beneath my fingernails. Thankfully, the weight of the carpet didn’t matter when it came to telekinesis. In moments, the edges of the enormous thing rose up behind her like a tidal wave and crashed down over her face, tugging her backward off me and rolling her into a giant, gaudy burrito as I scurried out of the way.

By the time I stood up and dusted off, every black uniform in the room lay unmoving, and, in some cases, ripped into pieces and flung around the room. Daphne stood, hand on hip. Some of her hair had worked loose from her bun, and an angry slash colored her cheek. Sam nuzzled into the young girl’s hand in wolf form, panting like a happy dog as she scratched behind his ear.

“What’s your name?” I asked, regaining my breath.

“I’m Em,” she said, blinking up at me with saucer-like burgundy eyes the color of maple leaves back home in the fall. They were completely unnatural yet suited her somehow.

“M like the letter?” Daphne asked.

She nodded in answer. “I picked the letter. They let me even though I was the first, so I really should’ve been A.”

I thought back to my vision when I’d held the block. He’d been worried about his sister, Dee, but he’d meant the letter and not the name. Shuddering, I bit the inside of my cheek so I wouldn’t blurt out how horrific that naming process was and hurt Em’s feelings. There was no way I was thinking of her as a letter.

“How long have you been here?” Daphne asked, kneeling in front of the girl, one hand on her knee and one tangled in Sam’s fur.

“Most of my life,” she said immediately. “I’m almost eight.”

“Where are the others?” I asked, searching for signs of hidden occupants in the empty bunks and bassinets shoved into the corner whose presence unnerved me.

“They’ve been moved and now I’m all alone until they get more.”