Unstable by Lacey Carter Andersen
2
Drake
I’m nowin a cell with the other guys. Emory looks about as miserable as I feel, glaring as he sits in the corner staring down at his hands, and speaking little. But Adam has been his usual ray of sunshine. First, he talked about how cool the demons were. They’d taken him for questioning, wondering if he knew anything about Maxen’s plans against them. From what I gathered, he’d enthusiastically explained how he’d spent his time in the castle either chained up or in a cell, told them whatever he knew, and complimented their weapons, armor, even some of their horns.
The guy hadn’t taken one punch. I guess they’d given him a drink and some snacks. Played a game of cards with him, then taken him back down.
I wanted to be irritated, but Adam had been through hell. He didn’t need to be tortured again.
“Oh, and they had meat. It was actually really good, and the guards said they use their own special blend of spices!” Adam exclaims out of nowhere, running his hands through his pale-blond hair as if he’s too excited to control himself.
“That’s nice,” I manage, then grunt in pain because my beating is still pretty fresh. The guards hadn’t taken my response about not knowing anything as well as they had with Adam.
“Oh, and they had mashed potatoes! It was only my second time having them, but they were so good!” The mutant’s golden eyes glow as he chews his bottom lip.
“Can we stop?” Emory suddenly shouts, and all the joy drains from Adam’s face.
I sigh and give the berserker a dark look. Yeah, I’m miserable too, but he doesn’t get to just crap all over Adam. None of this is the mutant’s fault.
Emory’s blue eyes connect with mine, and I realize he’s on the edge of going berserk. Fuck. How had I not realized he was so close? He seemed to have taken the beating from the demons well. So what the hell is under his skin now?
“What’s wrong?” I ask, and I realize my voice has dropped lower. As a dragon shifter, I’m at the top of the food chain. If any shifter heard me speak right now, he’d be cowering in my presence.
But if anything, the berserker looks angrier. “Where is she? Did they question her too? What if they’ve hurt her? How do we even know she’s alive?”
I have all the same questions and fears about our Kiera, but if Emory suddenly loses control. He’s going to start swelling, then lose himself. Adam and I might be in big trouble. And even though I could shift and take him down, I’ll likely bring the ceiling down on us. As much as I hate babying the big guy, this is a time he needs to be handled carefully.
“The demons aren’t nearly as violent as Maxen and his berserkers. They also have a point to everything they do. If they accept our group wasn’t involved in spilling the blood of their brethren, or plotting against them--”
“What? They’ll just let us go!” he demands, swelling.
I sigh. “I don’t know, but I think Kiera is safer here than there. Don’t you think so?”
His gaze is suddenly unsure, and his body stops swelling, slowly returning to normal.
Adam stands, looking thinner than even the first time I met him. His clothes are torn, and his body underneath looks bruised and sore. But he crosses the cell and sits down beside Emory. Without a word, he wraps an arm behind Emory’s shoulders, then lays his head on the big berserker’s shoulders.
I hold my breath, unsure how the hell Emory will respond to that.
To my surprise, he mumbles. “Sorry, didn’t mean to take it out on you.”
“It’s okay,” Adam says, his voice holding no resentment. “I’m worried about her too, but Kiera is better at taking care of herself than we give her credit for.”
He’s right. Of course, Adam is always right. He might be innocent in so many ways, but he’s not simple. He’s actually a hell of a lot smarter than Emory and I are. Probably combined. We meatheads have a tendency to be good with our fists, but not so great in the brain department at times.
The cell door rattles, and I stiffen, wishing this whole place didn’t smell so bad. Then, I could use my senses to pick up on whoever is coming for us now.
But when the door opens, and the demon guards are back, I’m not exactly startled either.
Worriedis more like it. They’d already questioned us. What do they want from us now?
“Get up. Time to go,” one says, his tone gruff as hell.
Adam is instantly on his feet and heads toward them. “I was telling my friends about how good your cooking is. Will we get to try anything else?”
The guard’s eyes gentle, and he reaches into his pocket. Inside is foil, he opens it, then gives Adam a piece of chocolate. Adam takes it eagerly and pops it into his mouth.
“Oh, that’s amazing too!” he exclaims.
“Good,” the guard says, softly. “You should have something good before…”
“Before what?” I ask, rising.
His gaze darts to me. “Come on, dragon. It’s time.”
“Time for what?” Emory says, his eyes narrowing as he climbs to his feet.
When neither of the guards answers us, that sinking sensation that whatever happens next is going to be bad intensifies. If we had Kiera with us right now, I know we’d all fight to escape, which is probably why they split us up in the first place. But until we were with her again, we’d have to do our best to play nice.
Unless this is the end of the road altogether…
