“He’s in here,” Dante hissed, his voice a low growl as he lurched aside.
Haizley, Bane and Nav—a trio of familiar faces etched in the fading light—poured into the claustrophobic farmhouse, their boots thudding like war drums on the aged floorboards.
Haizley, her face a mask of desperate hope and chilling dread, dropped her bag with a sickening thud, the leather whispering against the worn wood. She kneeled before me, her breath catching in her throat. “Danny,” she whispered, my name a raw wound.
I couldn’t meet her gaze. My own eyes burned with unshed tears. The taste of ash filled my mouth. “I need a computer,” I choked out, my voice a ragged whisper, a tremor running through me.
“Tell me what’s happening first,” Haizley demanded, her voice edged with steel.
“I remembered,” I rasped as my gaze locked onto Nav, the icy dread clinging to him like a second skin. “She knows where she is.”
My betrayal was sickening.
The man I’d trusted. His carefully constructed façade shattered like cheap glass as his body went rigid. His face drained of color, leaving behind only a canvas of stark terror. He bolted from the room, his phone a frantic extension of his clawing panic.
Bane, a granite statue of controlled fury. His eyes burned with an unsettling intensity, shoved a flashlight in my face, the harsh beam sliced through the darkness, searing my retinas. “Sypher,” his voice boomed, a thunderclap that shook me to my core, “look at me, kid.”
My body convulsed, a rack of uncontrollable tremors.
I couldn’t meet his gaze, couldn’t bear the weight of his judgment, the raw, unfiltered power radiating from him. The air crackled around me with unspoken threats.
“What happened?!” Haizley’s voice sharp as she cut through the suffocating silence. The metallic tang of blood filled my nostrils, a phantom scent clinging to the air even after Bane had retreated. I spun, my gaze locking onto Dante’s pale face, the flickering light of the room catching the beads of sweat on his brow.
“He was showering,” Dante rasped, his voice a strangled whisper. “I went to check on him... One look at me and he clutched his head. I don’t know what triggered it. One minute, he was there, the next... a primal scream ripped through the house, then I called you.”
Bane, a hulking shadow, loomed over me and attached a blood pressure cuff. The cold rubber against my skin felt alien, insignificant compared to the icy dread gripping my heart. “His pressure is off the charts,” Bane growled, his voice a low rumble of impending doom. “He’s having a full-blown manic episode. I need to sedate him.”
“NO!” The scream tore from my throat, raw and desperate.
I scrambled back, away from the looming figure of Bane, the plush velvet of the couch digging into my skin. The air tasted metallic, thick with the scent of fear. “I need a computer! I have to know she’s safe!”
My plea was lost in the storm raging within me.
My despair, a tangible thing, washed over me, but I couldn’t let it drown me.
Not yet.
“Danny, please,” Dante choked out, reaching for me, his eyes filled with a desperate plea that mirrored my own. “You need help.”
I shook my head, my vision blurring with unshed tears.
To Haizley, I croaked, my voice a desperate rasp, “Please... don’t let him. I just need to know... she’s safe.” Haizley’s touch was feather-light, yet firm.
“Danny,” she said, her voice a silken thread against the harshness of everything else, “You need to calm down. Let us help you.”
Then Nav burst through the door, a whirlwind of frantic energy, his breath ragged, his face etched with relief. “She’s safe!” he shouted, the words a life raft in a sea of terror. “She’s safe, brother. I swear it.”
Before the relief could fully wash over me, a sharp, searing pain pierced my arm. The needle, a tiny sliver of cold steel, plunged into my flesh.
My world tilted.
Haizley and Dante’s hands guided me gently but forcefully onto the plush depths of the couch. As darkness threatened to claim me, my words were barely audible, a mere fragile whisper against the overwhelming tide of fear and exhaustion, as I murmured, “She’s... safe...”
Chapter Thirty-One
Danny
I woke sometime later to voices in the kitchen. Everything was still fuzzy, but I could clearly hear Dante’s agitated voice.
