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With a deep breath, I grab her wrist with my right hand then draw out the small Swiss Army Knife I carry with me everywhere. Since I have nothing to sterilize the blade, I make the instant decision to worry about infection later. Applying pressure, I make a small incision the length of the wound, then one on each side, and apply additional pressure to the opposite side.
The pellet pops out and clatters to the floor along with a splatter of Rainey’s blood. The moment it’s free though, she breathes a sigh of relief. “Thanks. This is going to hurt like a motherfucker, but I’ll be on my feet soon.”
“Let’s go get the others. There’s no telling what will happen when they send more assholes looking for you.” Paloma starts down the hall, and I guide Rainey, taking as much of her weight as possible with Felix just behind us.
The staircase comes into view just ahead, so we move as quickly as we can, half-running until we begin the descent. The metal stairs are a direct contrast to the stark white hall, and our footsteps are heavy despite how quiet we try to move.
“Come for more fun?” a man growls below.
“Lots of it,” Rainey calls out. “Though I may need a few hours to heal first.”
“Rainey?”
We reach the bottom and step into full view of the cells. Elijah rushes forward, and Rainey pulls away, limping to the bars. I look through the group, my heart aching while my soul burns with anger as I take in their injuries.
Delaney’s bruised, her face swollen as she sits as close to the bars as she can with a bloodied Cole on the other side. A man I met briefly—Walker—is barely breathing, his gasps ragged and harsh as he lies in a cell alone.
Another man I don’t know sits up, his face bloodied and bruised. “Human rescue party?”
“Looks that way,” Rainey replies. “If she can get the silver out of you, we can get the hell out of this place.”
My heart breaks for them, and I blink back tears, not wanting them to see me as anything but strong. Still, how many times did I look so broken? Beaten by someone who thought he was better than me? The pain is something I know far too well, and seeing these warriors this way—broken noses, shattered bones, blood-streaked skin—it lights the fire in me.
Especially when I noticed two very important people missing from the group.
“Where are Bronywyn and Tarnley?”
