Page 27 of Siren's Gift

"Twelve here too. Thirty-eight in this building alone. Confirm if all rooms are in use."

"What’s happening, guys?" Rin asked. "Don’t leave me hanging like this."

As we moved down our respective hallways, Keiko briefly explained to Rin what we saw. A fire dragon and its humanhost—men and women alike—occupied each room, creating pyrocrystals through the bonding ritual before breaking it and starting again via the liquid being pumped into their veins.

Not a single person had an intact tattoo controlling the dragons. Whatever was in that blue liquid somehow forced the beasts to obey, which meant the dragons were being tortured as well. Given their freedom, then having it ripped from them over and over.

How long had such madness been going on?

How had Ichiro even come up with a sick and twisted idea like this?

"Fuck me. How’s that even possible?" Rin asked the question we all must have wondered.

I didn’t answer because I didn’t know. All I knew was that it had to stop.

And yet, I couldn’t free them. Not yet. Not without blowing our cover or alerting the guards, or worse, Ichiro himself. Rage clawed at the inside of my chest, but I shoved it down, forced myself to move. Every second we waited felt like a betrayal, but charging in half-cocked would get us all killed and leave these prisoners to rot.

As I passed each door, I took photos with my phone. When the machine activated a dragon, I captured the event on video. Their screams would haunt me for the rest of my life. I memorized every face and made silent promises.

Because if the Council didn’t act after seeing this, then I would. And I wouldn’t stop until the walls bled. When the time came, I would burn this place to ash. Not just for justice, but for vengeance. For them.

This entire operation would cease to exist. One way or another.

By the time I reached the end of the hall, only one room was unoccupied, though the scorch marks on the wall spokeof a violent history. Most of the room's occupants were going through the same torture as the brunette woman. A few were in a restful state but still strapped down.

I guessed Ichiro had to let his captives rest every once in a while before they died altogether when their bodies gave out. Small mercies. Although death might have been preferable.

In two rooms, the occupants lay on their backs and stared blankly at the ceiling. I thought they were dead at first, except they blinked every so often. I tapped on the glass window but received no response. They just kept staring and blinking. I couldn’t tell if anybody was home upstairs anymore. It didn’t seem like it.

Before I could point out the difference to the others, Rin’s voice crackled in my ear. "We’ve got two incoming, boss. Just came out of an unmonitored room and heading your way. Wearing lab coats."

Shit.

A man and a woman stepped around the corner. The grey-haired man was looking down at a clipboard and didn’t see me, but the woman’s eyes widened behind her black-framed glasses.

"What do you think you’re doing here?" she demanded. "Who are you?"

I had removed my mask inside because we’d looped the security cameras. Our presence here wouldn’t be recorded. However, I was more than prepared for surprises like these. I would have to talk my way out using the one thing that still worked in Ichiro’s empire—my name.

I straightened my spine, putting on the Dominic Sato façade everybody expected.

"What do you mean ‘who am I?’" I barked out.

The man and woman exchanged a glance of confusion.

I sighed as if their ignorance frustrated me. To be honest, it did frustrate me. I had worked hard to build up my reputation. "I own this building."

The man narrowed his eyes. "Ichiro Sato owns this building."

I leveled my gaze at him. "And I am Dominic Sato."

Both of their eyebrows shot toward their hairlines, and they shared another glance. Only this glance spoke volumes about what my grandfather must have told them about me.

The woman cleared her throat. "Oh, Mr. Sato, forgive me. Did you schedule a visit tonight? Your grandfather rarely comes in this late."

Her statement confirmed the worst, not that there had been much lingering doubt. But for some unknown reason, I had held out a sliver of hope that my grandfather wouldn’t be capable of something this terrible, this inhumane. I knew better.

No, it turned out my grandfather was worse than I’d ever imagined.

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