Page 5 of Victoria's Embrace

After another entirely inadequate meal, where they tried to give her the lion’s share, which she gently refused much to their oddly intense displeasure, they took turns in the cleansing room, packed up, and headed out into the night.

The journey was an exhausting mix of terrifying, pulse-pounding moments of running from one hiding place to another and horribly uncomfortable, drawn-out periods of squeezing themselves into small spaces or standing utterly still in dark alcoves, then waiting until it was safe to move again.

Often, they had to wait so long her legs cramped and went numb, and when it was time to run again, she was limping and hobbling which tripled her anxiety and sent adrenaline pouring through her, leaving her shaky, weak-kneed, and absolutely positive she was going to be the reason they got caught, quickening her pulse to the point she felt like she was having a damn heart attack.

They’d been on the move for what felt like countless hours, but was probably closer to three, when Vi’kail abruptly held up a sharp hand, sending them all jerking to a stop. Her heart leapt into her throat.

Vi’kail motioned for them to hide then slid around the corner, disappearing into the dark. How the hell he did that, she had no idea, but it was like he could blend into the darkness until he became almost invisible. He wasn’t, he just moved in a way that made your eyes pass over him without really seeing him.

Victoria didn’t have to wonder long what had set him off. No more than a minute later, she caught the sound of voices pleading, weeping, begging someone to spare them.

Vi’kail reappeared, looking so grim it sent dread spiraling through her.

“Come. We can sneak past while they’re distracted.”

She grabbed his sleeve before he could move. “What’s happening up there?”

A muscle ticked in his jaw and his eyes were shadowed, but when she narrowed her own, he reluctantly explained, “There’s a… processing warehouse. Slaves are being unloaded.”

There was something about that hesitation before he said processing warehouse. “Tell me the truth.”

He sighed. “It’s where they take slaves deemed unusable or unsellable to be… recycled.”

Why had he said recycled? Why not say killed?

“Recycled into what?”

“Element cubes for fabricators.”

Victoria’s stomach cramped so hard she almost threw up, had to struggle for many moments to keep what little food she’d eaten down. “We have to help them.”

Vi’kail shook his head, but to her surprise, it was Thegan who said, “We cannot.”

When she whipped a shocked look up at him, she saw he looked absolutely tortured, but his jaw was set. Staring at him, she understood what he didn’t say. It was dangerous. They could be recaptured or die, which didn’t just affect themselves but the people at the complex left to Catty’s mercies. Her friends, her little beastie, Aria… People were depending on them to make it back. Interfering might even compromise Aria’s plans, could alert the other Overlords they’d freed themselves, and were planning to take over. She knew all that.

And, yet, there was no fucking way in hell she could just walk away and leave those people to be slaughtered.

Gazing back up at Vi’kail, she said exactly that. “I can’t. Iwon’tleave them to die when we’re standing here with a gun and the ability to stop it. You can either help me or not, but this is happening. Now, how many guards are there?”

He didn’t answer for so long she thought he wasn’t going to, but he finally blew out a hard breath and growled, “Five.”

“How many slaves?”

“Nine.”

Victoria nodded decisively, hiding the fear making her fingertips tingle and causing a cold sweat to pop out along her spine. Scanning the ground, she spotted a jagged piece of metal and picked it up, using her sleeve to protect her palm from being cut.

“Let’s do this.”

Vi’kail snarled, Thegan sighed resignedly, and Thorn growled, but there was relief on their faces. Not enough to outweigh their worry for her, but enough to tell her leaving those slaves to die would’ve haunted them.

* * *

Thegan mentally growledat the female at his side even as his heart swelled with pride and love for her bravery and soft heart.

Dipping around the corner, they crept along the side of the building, staying in the shadows until they could see the entrance to what Vi’kail called the processing warehouse.

There were five guards—three of the brown-furred beings that had been in their own transport and two reptilian-looking brutes—standing at the rear of a cargo runner. Eight slaves were huddled in a group, four of the guards standing around them with weapons trained while the last was kicking a slave on the ground and snarling at him to get up.

---