“About Will? What…what do you think will happen with him?”
Daemon growled. “God, I do want to hunt him down, but here’s the deal. Worst-case scenario, he’s pissed when the mutation fades, and he comes back after us. If so, I’ll take care of him.”
My brows arched. Worst-case scenario to me was if he came back in any form—normal, mutated, or whatever—and got anywhere near my mom again. “And you think there was no way the mutation stuck?”
“Not if Matthew is right. I mean, I wanted to do it to get you out of there, but it wasn’t this true and deep want. He nicked an artery, but he wasn’t dying.” He cast me a look. “I know what you’re thinking. That if it did, we’re connected to him.”
Healing Will without really knowing what the outcome would be was a huge risk and sacrifice for Daemon. “Yeah,” I admitted.
“There’s nothing we can do about that now but wait and see.”
“Thank you.” I cleared my throat, but it didn’t help. “Thank you for getting me out of there.”
Daemon didn’t respond, but his fingers tightening around mine grounded me in reality. I told him about the Daedalus, but as expected, he hadn’t heard of them. The little talking we did on the way to the office building weakened my voice further, and each time my words ended on a raspy note, Daemon flinched. I pressed my head against the backseat, forcing my eyes to stay open.
“Are you okay?” Daemon asked as we neared Street of Hopes.
My smile felt wobbly. “Yeah, I’m okay. Don’t worry about me right now. Everything…”
“Everything is about to change.” He pulled along the back of the plaza, hitting the brakes. Pulling his hand free, he cut the engine. He took a deep breath as he glanced at the clock in the dashboard. We had five minutes.
Five minutes to get Dawson out of there if what Will had said was true. Five minutes wasn’t nearly enough time to prepare for this.
I took off the seat belt, ignoring the weariness sinking into my bones. “Let’s do this.”
Daemon blinked. “You don’t have to come in with me. I know…you’re tired.”
No way in hell was I letting Daemon face this alone. Neither of us had any clue what waited inside, what kind of condition Dawson was in. I opened the door, wincing as pins and needles shot across my feet.
Daemon was beside me in a second, taking my hand as he looked down, meeting my eyes. “Thank you.”
I smiled even though my insides were twisting and turning. As we walked up to the front doors, I started a mini prayer in my head for whoever was listening. Please don’t let this end badly. Please don’t let this end badly. Because in reality, this could go wrong on so many different levels it was frightening.
Daemon reached for the handle on the double glass doors and surprise, surprise, the door was unlocked. Suspicion blossomed. Too easy, but we’d come this far.
Looking up, I saw a circular piece of onyx embedded in the brick. Once inside, we’d be powerless, with the exception of healing. If this were a trap, we were so screwed.
We went inside. To the right, the alarm system shone green, meaning it wasn’t set. How much money did Will invest in this? The guards at the warehouse, Vaughn, and all the people he had to pay off to just leave the office building…unlocked?
Money would’ve been of no real hindrance to him. Hell, he’d turned over his own niece.
The lobby looked like any office-building lobby. Half-circle desk, fake plants, and cheap tile floors. There was a door leading to a stairwell that had been conveniently left open. Glancing at Daemon, I squeezed his hand. I’d never see him so pale, his face so hard it could’ve been made of marble.
His destiny waited upstairs, in a way. His future.
Squaring his shoulders, he started toward the door and we went, climbing the stairs as fast as we could. When we reached the top, my legs were shaking from exhaustion, but fear and excitement spiked my blood with adrenaline.
At the top landing, there was a closed door. Above it, there was more onyx—a sure sign. Daemon let go of my hand and wrapped his fingers around the handle, a slight tremor running up his arm.
My breath caught in my throat as he opened the door. Images of the impending reunion flitted through my thoughts. Would there be tears and shouts of joy? Would Dawson be in any shape to recognize his brother? Or was there a trap waiting to be sprung on us?
The room was dark, lit only by the moonlight streaming in through one window. There were a couple of folding chairs propped against the wall, a TV in the corner, and a large kennel-like cage in the middle of the room, outfitted with the same kind of manacles that had hung from mine.
Daemon stepped into the room slowly, his hands falling to his sides. Heat blasted off his body as his spine stiffened.
The cage…the cage was empty.
Part of me didn’t want to process what that meant, couldn’t let the thought sink in and take root. My stomach cramped, and tears burned the back of my sore throat.
“Daemon,” I croaked.
He stalked to the cage, stood there a moment, and then knelt, pressing his forehead against his hand. A shudder racked his body. I hurried to his side and placed my hand on his rigid back. Muscles bunched under my touch.
“He…he lied to me,” Daemon said, voice ragged. “He lied to us.”
To come this close, to come seconds from seeing his brother again, was heartbreaking. The kind of shattering there was no coming back from. There was nothing I could say. No words could make this better. The emptiness tearing open inside me was nothing compared with what I knew Daemon was feeling.