Лори Девоти - Unbound

“I don’t know why he’s here, but I don’t think it’s good news for us. Don’t be pinning your hopes on someone you know you can’t trust. Especially when your hormones are involved.” She grasped Kara’s hands. “We have to do this ourselves. At some point they’re going to open that door and take us away — just like they did all the others. But when they do, we’ll be prepared, right?”

Kara closed her eyes, her loyalty to Kelly warring with the dream of being able to believe in Risk.

“Right?” Kelly squeezed her hands.

Opening her eyes, Kara stared into her sister’s determined face. Kelly was the one person she had always been able to depend on. Kara would be an idiot to forget that now, and she owed it to her sister to do whatever she could to save her.

With an abrupt nod, she replied, “Right. What do we do first?”

With a determined smile, Kelly pulled her into a hug. “We’ll be fine. You’ll see. Just trust me.”

Kara spent the rest of the day trying to pretend Lusse wasn’t in the tube next door, and forcing herself not to look for Risk.

Hours later, Kelly was still instructing Kara on how to pull energy from the small space around them and hold it within herself.

Panting, Kara collapsed on the floor next to the bowl of pellets. If they kept this up much longer, she thought she might explode.

“Where is the power coming from?” Kara asked, gratefully pressing another water bag to her lips.

“I don’t know, but it isn’t enough to do much. Certainly not enough to break out of here.” Kelly stared at the doorway to their prison, then turned back to Kara, a tiny frown on her face. “It gets stronger during the serpent ceremony. Unfortunately, that’s also when we are completely surrounded.”

“Do you think we could break out then?” Kara ran a shaking hand through her hair. Working with even this small amount of power was exhausting. Could she handle more?

“No.” Kelly placed a hand on each side of their prison’s door. “We would never get past those snake-men. But I’m hoping if we work with what we have, once they open that door, we’ll be ready.”

“You mean attack them?” Kara’s eyes widened. The snake-men were strange, but so far they hadn’t done anything that in Kara’s mind justified hurting them.

Kelly pushed away from the door. “This is serious, Kara. It’s us or them. We have to get out of here no matter who we hurt.”

Kara glanced to the end of the tube where throughout the day, Lusse had been practicing her own witchcraft.

No matter how much she fought it, Kara couldn’t seem to keep her eyes from turning toward the adjacent tube. Even if just looking that direction sent a dagger of pain through her center.

Bursts of light bounced around the nearby capsule, silhouetting the profile of a masculine figure. Kara hurried to the end of their prison, drawn like iron filings to a magnet.

Risk stood facing the doorway, still dressed in one of Jormun’s jumpsuits. Even this tiny glimpse of him made Kara’s palms sweat and her pulse quicken. The material clung to him like a second skin, highlighting the flat plane of his stomach and the muscular bulge of his buttocks.

“Forget him, Kara.” Kelly wandered up to stand next to her.

Kara swallowed, her gaze glued to the man she couldn’t give up on.

Lusse strolled up behind Risk and wove her arms around his waist, then up his chest. Her face pressed to his back, she stared into Kara’s eyes. He’s mine, her gaze seemed to say. Then with a wave of her hand, a fog formed, blocking Kara’s view.

“What happened?” Kelly asked, her hand reaching out to grab Kara, who wobbled sideways.

Kara blinked back the sudden moisture in her eyes. “Nothing. You’re right. We have to do whatever we can to escape. We can’t trust anyone except each other.”

“It will be okay, Kara. I promise.” Kelly pulled Kara to her in a hug. “I’ve never let you down before, have I?”

Kara shook her head. She could trust Kelly. Kelly would take care of everything — she always had.

Kelly turned and tromped back to the center of their room, her hands raised to renew their practice.

Kara was falling back into old habits, but…she glanced over her shoulder at the now opaque capsule next door…obviously, trusting in herself hadn’t worked out.

Risk stepped forward, out of Lusse’s arms. “What was that about?” he asked. While she made many suggestive comments, Lusse had never shown any real sexual interest in him or any of the males in her kennel. Risk wasn’t sure if it was a basic prejudice against what she saw as inter-breeding or her own sexual leanings, and he hadn’t cared. It was her one redeeming quality in his eyes.

She laughed. “Your little witch over there.” She pointed in the direction of the tube that held Kara and her sister. “She really is panting after you.” She arched a brow. “Are you sure you don’t return her interest?”

Risk stepped away. “Of course not. I needed her trust. You know that.”

“Hmm.” Lusse flicked out her hand, a small ball of fire forming on her palm. “I hope that’s all. I’d hate to think after all these years, after all we’ve been through, that I couldn’t trust you.” She bounced the blazing ball into the air. “And Venge…I’d make sure he hated it, too.” The ball landed back in her palm; with a smile she closed her fingers, smothering the sphere into smoking nothingness. She held her hand up, palm toward him, fingers splayed.

“There’s something in the air here. Do you feel it? It was stronger outside this—” she glanced around their space, an expression of distaste on her face “—plastic bubble, but I can still pick up remnants here. It must be related to the power source Jormun is using to make his creatures. Have you learned anything yet?”

A band around Risk’s chest tightened. Though friendly, Jormun had refused his request to speak with Kara. But Risk had no choice; he had to move forward with his plan and just hope at some point he was able to communicate it to Kara.

Time to add to his nest of lies — to tighten the noose more closely around Lusse’s neck.

“I have. Jormun has been fairly free with information. He’s promised to show me how he makes the creatures, but not until we prove we’re trustworthy.”

“Trustworthy?” Lusse pursed her lips.

“He wants to make sure the twins aren’t hurt in the battle. If they’re harmed they’ll be of no use to him.”

“Of course.” Lusse shrugged. “Is that all?”

“Basically.” Risk tilted his head as if just remembering something. “Except, he asks that you wear a piece of equipment, just to assure a fair fight. If I can convince you to do that, he’ll trust me enough to share the source of his power with me.”

Lusse frowned. “How do I know his ‘equipment’ won’t tip the battle toward the twins?”

“I can try it on first, if you like.”

Lusse tilted her head in consideration. “I still don’t like it. You aren’t a witch. It might affect you differently.”

“True,” Risk agreed. “But it’s his one request.”

“And you think we can trust him? Will he really show you the power source?”

Risk pretended to consider her question. “He will. He seems to share the garm’s love of rules.”

Lusse shrugged. “Perhaps a side effect of living too near the portals.”

Risk fought to keep his face from twisting into a grimace. Trust and keeping a bargain were foreign ideas to Lusse.

Lusse straightened her arm, another ball of blue fire in her hand. “Tell him I agree.” She glanced at Risk. “Now leave, I need to practice. Not to beat them, you understand. I just want to make sure Jormun is left with no doubt as to who is the strongest.”