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I raised my knife and positioned my body to fight.
“Don’t, Charlie. I’m not the enemy. I’m here to help you two get out.” Logan stepped toward us.
I wanted it to be true, but I had been wrong about him before. I had accepted his lies, and they had led to this place.
I looked at the silver-eyed man. He showed recognition on his face. They knew each other. Gray Eyes focused on my face. I noticed a brush, almost a caress, against the back of my mind. His silver eyes darkened. “He betrayed you?”
I nodded in acknowledgement. I stared at his silver eyes as if he had spoken. I had heard the words, but I don’t think he spoke.
The connection, the tether between us. He had reached for it, and into my mind. It felt too intimate that he could do that. It was like my dreams, but I was awake, and he was standing next to me. My light tugged on the tether, seeking its familiarity. They didn’t teach about that in the runestones! Nowhere in my research did it say Valkyries could communicate like that.
He slid his eyes toward Logan and moved back to give me better position to strike. “The kill is yours…”
Logan looked at the man in shock.
The silver-eyed man shrugged. “However, he did aid my break-in. When I searched for you, he brought down the left wing. It is your choice—kill him now, or he comes with us.”
“We can’t leave him here?” I said. I couldn’t kill Logan. I hadn’t truly wanted to hurt Logan before. In a way I was relieved he appeared uninjured, even though I’d slammed him into the door.
“We cannot. Kill him, or he comes with us. Choose. Now.” Gray Eyes’ tone was clipped.
“Do I get a vote?” Logan said.
“I vote we kill him.” Gray Eyes looked at me with absolute conviction.
“No one gets a vote!” I yelled.
Gunfire erupted down the corridor we had run from.
Decision made. He comes with us.
All three of us started sprinting toward the end of the tunnel, further downward.
A tall man in black fatigues ran toward us, from ahead, shouting, “Hurry, Logan!”
He threw a rifle at Logan, then looked at me and the gray-eyed man before pulling us behind him as he aimed at the men behind us. Logan’s friend focused his rifle down the narrow passageway.
Well, that settled that. His teammate was on our side.
Gray Eyes adjusted his grip higher on my arm, and he sprinted ahead of Logan.
I tripped. My bare feet slipped on the concrete, and my legs buckled beneath me.
Logan grabbed me by the waist and thrust my body toward Gray Eyes. He turned toward the men behind us and started firing with his new rifle, opposite his friend.
We ran ahead of him. As he emptied his clip, Logan turned to join us while reloading.
His friend continued to fire, and we all went further into earth. The tunnel seemed never-ending. It continued to stretch in front of us. The gunfire and shouting got closer. Bullets hit the rock beside our bodies, spraying powder and gravel down onto us.
I was too exhausted. My body had been beaten and battered and starved. I didn’t have anything left to give. I tripped again and fell to my knees, then clawed against the wall to stand. Adrenaline coursed through my veins, but it wasn’t enough. My legs wouldn’t hold my weight anymore. The drugs the doctor had pushed into me, combined with the concussion, blurred my vision and weakened my mind. My wounds were partially healed, delayed by the repeated dosing from the doctor.
I couldn’t get back on my feet.
Each time I forced my body to stand, my legs gave way underneath me. I crawled toward the end of the hallway when strong arms swiftly lifted me from the ground.
I landed against a firm chest of armor. The silver-eyed man wore a thin charcoal material across his chest. It looked like woven leather protection. His black pants were made of the same material—like a gladiator from ancient Rome. He was only missing his shield and sword.
He cradled me tightly in his arms. It was starkly different from when Logan had picked me up, when he kissed me roughly. Gray Eyes’ movements were seamless, almost like he glided instead of ran down the dark tunnel.
