Magpie (34 page)

“If Kane comes here, I’m to be informed immediately,” Everet said.

“Yes, sir.”

Everet made his way up to the main part of the nest, walking more slowly, giving himself time to think and come up with a plan. He scanned the face of every man who passed him, hoping against hope that one of them would turn out to be Kane, that good fortune would be on his side, just once.

He wasn’t the kind of man who ever relied on luck, but just this once he’d make an exception. He needed to find Kane, right now—and maybe not just for the other man’s benefit.

* * * *

Kane wrapped his arms around his knees and curled himself into an even tighter ball. The room wasn’t cold, but it didn’t need to be. The chill that seeped into his bones came from deep down.

It wouldn’t have been so bad if stone-cold fury had filled him. If he’d been able to hate someone, to want to lash out at someone, it might have been easier, but no, the only person Kane hated was himself.

He frowned. He supposed he could lash out at himself. He could hurt himself. That might work. He could slash at his skin and slam his fists into his own body. He could make himself hurt so badly it blocked out everything else. Pain was hot, wasn’t it? It might ease the chill inside him.

Quicksilver was hot, too. He’d never be allowed to see the inside of the silver room again, but he could make silver flow through his veins instead. There was no point staying away from the stuff now. He might as well shoot up.

He trailed his fingers over the inside of his elbow. The skin there had stopped itching now, but the very thought of getting high made the part of him that had loved the quicksilver expand within his mind. Kane closed his eyes as he heard someone walk past, but he didn’t open his eyes to see if they cast a shadow he could identify. He didn’t want to see anyone.

He wouldn’t want to see anyone ever again.

Kane couldn’t control much. He couldn’t change who he was, he couldn’t change what he’d done with his life—it was too late for anything like that now. All he could do was lie there, with the cold freezing him from the inside out, and wait for it all to be over.

Another set of footsteps passed by the dank little space Kane had found for himself, down where he belonged, right at the bottom of the barrel, with the rest of the dregs. He closed his eyes tighter and tried not to think about what Crystal had said—about the man who’d heard her say it.

Kane had spent the best part of his life not thinking about anything at all. Surely it couldn’t be that hard to regain the ability when he needed it most?

* * * *

“Everet!”

Everet spun around. “Ambrose?”

The huge albatross lumbered to a stop alongside him. “What the hell happened?”

“Happened?” Everet repeated.

Kane! If something had happened anywhere in the nest, it was reasonable to assume that there could only be one man in the middle of it on any day, and today that was especially true.

“What’s happened? Have you seen Kane? Where is he?”

Ambrose frowned down at Everet, out of breath from his sprint along the corridor. “You don’t know?”

“Know what? Where is he?” Everet asked. His heart raced so fast, he wasn’t sure he could stop it from exploding out of his chest if his friend didn’t hurry the hell up and spit out what he knew.

Whatever it was, Everet had to know—now.

If something was broken, as Kane’s master, he needed the information so he could fix it. If Kane was broken—

No. A shot of pure terror rushed through Everet’s veins. Kane couldn’t be broken, not in any way that couldn’t be fixed, please, no…

Everet tried to shake Ambrose by the shoulders, but the other man was so big he couldn’t move him an inch. All he could do was grab Ambrose’s shirtsleeves and tug so hard he almost tore them away at the seams.

“He’s down in the cages and…”

That was all Everet heard. The “s” at the end of the word cages had barely hit the air before he started running.

For a few steps, Everet heard Ambrose hurrying along in his wake, but he was more narrowly built than the albatross, and far faster over the ground. And, when it came right down to it, Ambrose probably cared who he knocked over—that slowed him down.

Everet had already run along almost every corridor in the nest, up and down a dozen different flights of stairs in his search for Kane. His stamina held out until he was within sight of the guards’ desk set in the anteroom leading to the cages, but getting there took every scrap of energy he had left to give. He half collapsed, bracing himself with his hands on the desk. His head spun. If he’d been a cartoon character, he was sure that pretty little stars would have circled his head.

He pulled in one deep breath and demanded that be enough. “Kane. Show me where he is. Now.”

The man behind the desk didn’t argue. He didn’t ask questions. Grabbing his keys, he led the way down the hall. A man waving a loaded gun couldn’t have achieved anyone’s cooperation more quickly.

Almost at once, the small room opened up into a space higher than any other in the nest. On each side of the central guards’ walkway, narrow cage bars ran from the ground, all the way up to the ceiling, at least two-dozen-yards above them.

Lines of metal filled the world. Everet had hated the cages the first time he set eyes on them. That was over a year ago, when they’d first been brought back into use.

His opinion of them hadn’t changed. Maybe some people thought they were more humane than a whipping, but he wasn’t sure. The space closed in on him at the very thought of being trapped in one of the tall, narrow spaces.

He’d have walked more quickly if he could have, but it would have meant stepping into the back of the guard. And, when it came right down to it, rushing would have involved scraping together supplies of energy he didn’t actually possess.

They passed the first pair of cages. One was empty, on their right-hand side, a man slept sprawled out on a narrow cot. A small slate board hung on the outside of his cage—
Crow. Drunk. Until sober.

A few cages along, they passed by another occupied cage.
Seagull. Disturbing the peace. Three days.

Everet glanced past the metal. The gull was in his avian form, perched on a bar attached to the back wall of the cage. As their eyes met, it extended its wings and cawed at him.

“Bloody noisy things,” the guard muttered under his breath.

They walked on. Everet found himself holding his breath. Right at the end of the row, he spotted another slate with something written on it. Everet turned his attention to the guard when the man stopped and started looking through a large ring holding keys. He selected the appropriate one.

Everet caught hold of the guard’s arm and stopped him before he could reach for the heavy padlock that held the cage closed. He put out his free hand. The guard placed the correct key in it.

The guard took one look at Everet’s expression, turned on his heel and walked away. He strode past the cage Kane occupied, and down a corridor that could have led straight to hell, for all Everet knew or cared.

Everet stepped forward, but he didn’t look beyond the bars. A bitter taste filled the back of his mouth. His stomach tightened into knots more complicated than any seagull had ever used. He had no idea what he’d see when he looked into the cage, but he couldn’t let his fear keep him ignorant of the facts forever.

Summoning up every ounce of courage he could find, Everet lifted his gaze and peered into the cage.

Kane.

The magpie was there. That was the main thing. They were together. Everything else could be worked out from there. Everet forced himself to take a deep, calming breath before he assessed the situation further.

Kane sat in the middle of a narrow bed, his arms wrapped around his knees, his legs drawn up close to his chest. He bowed his head so low, his forehead rested on his arm.

His face was blocked from view, so was much of his body. A hundred injuries could’ve been hidden from Everet’s gaze, there was only one way to find out what they were. A man couldn’t call himself a good master if he didn’t step up and deal with each and every scrape his submissive felt against his skin.

“Kane?”

Whatever caused his voice to sound calm and steady, Everet was glad enough of it to send silent thanks up to a god he’d never believed in. Forget interrogating fools who’d caused trouble in the nest,
this
was when Everet really needed to be in complete control of himself.

Kane’s head snapped up. His face was deathly pale, but there wasn’t a mark on it.

Everet let out the breath he’d held, but his pulse didn’t slow in the slightest. “What happened?”

Kane’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed several times in quick succession. His eyes were red. He’d obviously been crying.

Kane shrugged, but Everet felt sure that his silence had nothing to do with him feeling incapable of speaking past his emotions.

Unwrapping one of his arms from around his body, Kane rubbed at his face with his shirtsleeve. His efforts did little to make his cheeks less tear-stained.

“Kane?” Everet prompted.

The magpie turned his face away from him.

Forget taking it easy and not spooking Kane. Everet slid the key into the padlock on the cage door. The mechanism was well oiled. It turned over easily. The lock sprung open.

“You can’t do that!” Kane straightened up in his seat on the bed. “You’re not allowed in here. Guard!”

Everet jerked open the barred door, stepped inside and pulled the cage door shut behind him. “I want an answer.”

“And I want you to get the hell out of here.” Kane launched himself to his feet. He used every ounce of momentum he had and pushed against Everet’s chest. Frantically trying to shove him out of the cage, he hit against Everet’s shoulders and neck, but he failed to move him a single inch.

Everet caught hold of Kane’s wrists and tried to pull the smaller man into a tight embrace before he hurt himself with his flailing about. Kane allowed nothing. He kept pushing, kept struggling. “Get off me. You can’t just come in here and do whatever the hell you want with me. You can’t—”

“Yes, I can. I’m your master.”

“Get off me.”

What had made Kane freak out before? Fear of being disowned.

“You’re mine,” Everet tried. “That hasn’t changed.”

“Yes, it has. I quit.” Kane looked up at Everet, but he didn’t seem to be able to actually focus on anything. His eyes were wild. His movements jerky. He was stronger than anyone his size should have been.

Everet’s whole body tensed.

What have you taken?

He kept the words to himself. Asking Kane would have been pointless. He’d have lied.

Everet knew that if he’d fallen off the wagon, Kane wouldn’t be able to do anything else: the drugs would call all the shots and every scrap of progress they’d made would have been wiped away as easily as a needle could pierce a man’s vein.

Kane delivered a particularly vicious kick to Everet’s shin. “I don’t want to belong to you. Get off me!”

Everet stilled. Holding on to Kane’s wrists he simply stood there and let the other man rail against him, kicking and pushing him away with all him might. Kane cursed and shouted until his voice started to give out. He fought until he was so breathless he became unable to stand on his own.

Suddenly, he was completely reliant on Everet for support. Everet wasn’t holding him still now, he held him up.