“Knock-knock,” comes a trilling voice from the door. “Everyone decent in there?” It’s one of the women from the Facility. Molly, I think.
I straighten my clothes, face burning, as Galen unlocks the door and answers, “You may enter.”
“Ready to get going, sugar? It’s showtime. The beasts we let loose have handled many of the soldiers, but not all of ’em. Your little to-do with the ship took out a lot more, but there are still coming. It’s now or never, honeycakes. Oz is about to power up that big weapon of his.”
Swallowing hard, I say, “Is he sure this is going to work? It’s not going to wipe us out along with it?”
“Oz is a brilliant mort. He won’t let anything happen to his mate or to mine.” Galen pushes to his feet.
My chest heats at the sound of him calling me mate. Before I can dwell on it too long, Molly is urging us away from our momentary sanctuary.
She leads us through the labyrinth, deep into the tunnel system where we find the rest of the morts, their mates and children gathered along with the Exilium prison refugees. They’re a harrowing sight and I almost feel guilty for wasting time with Galen—almost, but not quite.
I’ve spent so much time at Galen’s side the past two days, I’ve barely been able to get to know these people. Are they our family now? Galen calls the morts brothers. Surviving what they have, The Rades and worse, they’re as close as family can get. Wistfulness burns at the back of my throat. Henry has always been the only family I’ve ever had. I never knew my parents, and since I left Earth II, everyone has had it out for me. When I was at the prison, I never let anyone get close enough to be a friend, let alone like family.
Molly seems to notice my unease. As though she can read my thoughts, she wraps an arm around my waist and for once I don’t pull away from the affection. We’re going to make it. And when we do, I want these people for Henry’s and my family. “Don’t worry, honey. They may look intimidating, but they’re sweet as pie, I promise. My mate is arguably the orneriest of the bunch, but he’d risk everything for any of us. Trust me.”
Burning to know her, to know all of them, I blurt, “Which one is your mate? I’m sorry. I can’t keep everyone straight.”
Molly smiles and points to a fierce-looking mort with deep gray scars crisscrossing his pearl-white skin. His hair is buzzed near his scalp. “That’s my Draven. Why don’t I go around and introduce you to everyone before things really get crazy? We could use the distraction until Oz’s contraption is ready.”
Galen finds Henry and the two settle onto a makeshift couch made of sacks of some kind of flour. Henry is perched on Galen’s knee with his head resting on the wide expanse of his chest. The sight fills me up with so much hope I could drown in it, happily. It bolsters me up enough to turn and follow Molly around the dim room without shrinking away. Occasionally, I glance back at Galen to find him watching me. It’s a comfort to know he’s never far away.
Strange how quickly things change.
“This is Sayer and Jareth. They’re in a throuple with Grace.” She drags me to a pair of morts, one with hair that drapes over his shoulder in a long braid and another with hair in spikes like he can’t help but run his hands through it, leaving it messy and unkempt. “Jareth is one of the engineers and Sayer is a linguistics specialist.”
I try to pay attention, but I was distracted at throuple.
“And you already know Avrell, Hadrian, Theron, and Galen, of course. We’ll introduce you to Oz when he’s done.”
She was right. I did need the distraction. After introductions, I feel a little calmer. Still completely freaked out, but at least I don’t feel like as much of an outsider.
Molly deposits me with Galen and Henry and returns to Draven’s side. The hours are dotted with explosions as the remaining soldiers attempt to draw us out by attacking the Facility. I shudder to think what will be left of it when they’re done. What will we do if there isn’t anything left?
Silence descends at the squawk from a radio. “I’m coming down,” says a disembodied voice. It must be Oz. My stomach clenches. Sweat beads at my temples. The small room filled with people is stifling. The air conditioning had gone out a while ago.
Galen presses against my side and I calm somewhat just knowing he’s there. I bite a nail. “When will we know if it worked?”
Before he can answer, the door swings open and a mort walks in, streaked with black smears on every inch of visible skin. A bookish brunette hurries to his side with a small screech. I blink at the creature perched on her shoulder. “Is that a spider?”