Page 12 of Elven Lies

Now that they were here, parked a quarter-mile up the road from the chain-link fences marking the perimeter of the Old Joliet Prison property, it had only gotten worse.

Infiltrating the prison yard the last time she was here had been horrifying enough. Now, Rebecca could only imagine how terrible it would be once she and Maxwell entered the building to get a good look at theinsideof Harkennr’s operation.

Assuming Harkennr kept his word and let her in at all, under a banner of truce.

More than that, though, she worried for Maxwell’s state of mind during this visit, and for good reason. Her Head of Security had crashed her covert solo mission the last time, thinking he was helping her stay out of trouble and blowing both their cover before they used the chaos in the prison yard to escape.

Even after how pissed Rebecca had been at him that night, she hadn’t overlooked how deeply the mere sound of Harkennr’s screaming victims had affected the shifter, even in his wolf form. She certainly hadn’t forgotten the sight of that shaggy gray wolf standing before the prison’s open doors, hackles raised and ears pressed flat against his head, whining as he fought the urge to run inside and free the abducted magicals wailing for mercy and release.

Pleading to be saved. Begging to be freed.

Now, when Maxwell killed the van’s engine and they exited the vehicle together in a tense silence, Rebecca hoped he could hold himself together this time a lot better than he’d managed before.

They headed down the road together, side by side, Maxwell’s jaw set firmly and his perpetual glower magnified by a grim determination. The shifter looked very well-put-together and in control of himself now.

But what about once they got there?

Once they reached the prison yard and heard the agonized screams and cries of the magicals Harkennr imprisoned within his compound to aid him in his own dark purposes? Once they heard the pain of all those souls tortured again and again, with no end in sight?

Rebecca knew that was what they would hear, and she hoped she could still depend on her Head of Security—her second in command, her self-proclaimed shadow and bodyguard—to stay by her side and stick to the plan. Once they entered the prison, everything they heard and saw would be far worse than the mere glimpse of it they’d each received the night Rebecca had finally healed the homunculus poison from her body.

Boots crunched over loose gravel scattered across the old road toward the prison, none of which had seen updates or maintenance in decades. The morning air fluttered past, cool and still muggy in the middle of August at just before 10:00a.m. A calm, sunny, breezy day in the Chicago area, at odds with the darkness and the agony and the horrors into which she and Maxwell would willingly step once they reached the end of this road.

Rebecca couldn’t help shooting him fleeting sidelong glances to gauge his mood, look for signs of hesitation or uncertainty. There were none as they walked side by side. Not visibly.

But she felt his hesitation and growing nerves with every step.

Six months ago—hell, even three weeks ago, before Shade voted her in as their new commander—she would have said nothing could affect Maxwell Hannigan. That the shifter remained cool as a cucumber in every possible scenario. Until he got aggravated and tried to blame Rebecca for whatever might have gone wrong.

But that was before. Everything had changed since then, including her understanding of what existed beneath the shifter’s stony exterior and his perpetually brooding mask.

He didn’t look at her once as they headed toward the front of the prison, which became particularly concerning until Rebecca just couldn’t take it anymore. She’d agreed to let him join her, and he’d agreed to follow her lead and follow orders. Beyond that, though, they hadn’t discussed a bit of what they were about to do or, more importantly, what they would have toignoreso they didn’t make this situation of Nyx’s abduction any worse.

As the twin guard towers on either side of the tall, reinforced chain-link fence surrounding the prison grounds came into view, Rebecca slowed and turned toward him. “Hold on a second.”

He stopped and turned to face her before finally meeting her gaze for the first time since they’d left her office. He said nothing, watching her expectantly, but his hesitation and somber expectation pulsed off him in waves, filling Rebecca with the exact same sensation that didn’t belong to her.

She wasfeelingwhat Maxwell felt, but admitting it out loud would only make her sound insane.

She studied his stoic, deadpan expression and settled on the closest thing to an appropriate question as she could find. “You good?”

Maxwell’s eyebrows flickered toward each other in either surprise or confusion before he lifted his chin. “I can handle it.”

“I know you can. It just feels like a good idea to set some expectations before we go marching in there. No matter what we hear or see after this, we have to—”

“I am aware of our objective, Roth-Da’al,” he said stiffly. “I agreed to follow your lead on this one, which we’ve already discussed.”

“Right. Now that we’re here, though, I just wanna make sure.”

He studied her face for a long time before his brows drew together and he cocked his head. “Have I given you reason to believe I’m in some way unfit for this mission?”

“What? No. Definitely not. That’s not what I said.”

“Do you not take me my word?”

She puffed out a sigh. “Hey, if anyone knows you do exactly what you say you’ll do, it’s me. I didn’t mean—”

“Then while I appreciate your concern,” he said gruffly, “I would rather move forward and get this over with as quickly as possible. If it’s all the same to you.”

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