Page 57 of Veiled Fate
It was a question I’d been wrestling with and still had no answer. Some people just didn’t want to believe that their perfect little world was flawed. Because that would meantheywere flawed, and that was simply incomprehensible. It must be the fault of someoneelse.
If the death of an alpha, animmortalAlpha, wasn’t enough to even shake their confidence, then it was likely nothing would.
Easing myself back from the ledge of the building, I put such thoughts and people out of my head, for the moment at least. All I could do was do what I was doing and hope it worked out for the best in the end.
I ran across the city at a jog instead of a sprint to not attract undue attention. The others would already be in position, waiting. Gare had a head start, which he would need because he had to cross the soldiers' path to alert our forces on the other side.
“Get ready,” I said as I reached my position, where fifteen of our people waited for me. “They’ll be coming soon.”
I watched from the corner of a second-story window, looking down the street. It took another ten minutes for the column of soldiers to appear. Their numbers had swelled as some of the troops hidden around the square left their positions and moved with the train of people.
“Any movement up top?” I hissed.
“Nothing yet,” word came back, relayed from our scouts up top.
Where the hell were his reinforcements? There was no way that the forty or so men guarding the prisoners were all Lycaonus had detailed as escorts. There were others. We just hadn’t spotted them yet. Not knowing how his trap worked meant my rescue effort was going in blind.
Come on, come on. Show yourselves already!
“They’re almost past the first marker.”
I grimaced at the report. Another minute, two at the most, and they would be in the strike zone. All that was waiting was for me to give the okay to proceed. But where were the rest of his troops? We had people on the rooftops. People in the streets. There was no way that Lycaonus could get troops to us unseen.
“What do we do?” the shifter near the door asked, his face grim but prepared.
“There’s no way Lycaonus got so overconfident … is there?” I asked, searching for a second opinion.
“It seems unlikely. But …”
Exactly.But.
“They’re past the second marker now.”
It was do or die. Perhaps literally. All of it rested on my shoulders.
“Give the signal,” I hissed, hoping I wasn’t making a horrific mistake, condemning us all to death.
The rebel rushed from the room, and I returned my gaze to the window, watching as the rear of the column cleared a side street. Seconds later, a pair of heavily laden transport carts eased into the T-intersection. One of them blew into a wheel, tipping over and spilling the heavy contents when the other crashed into its back, the boxes of crates crashing down, blocking the street corner. The owners of the two carts started shouting at one another, each blaming the other for the damage.
The soldiers turned at the commotion, but since it was behind them, they didn’t stick around. Instead, they kept walking.
When the lead reached the next intersection, the trap was sprung. Heavy tapestries were tossed from the roof, the rolled-up fabric draping over the soldiers as it descended, trapping them. As the ends hit the ground, shifters hauled mightily on ropes threaded through the tapestry, yanking it back toward the sides of the road, turning it into a massive tripwire that spilled soldiers to the ground.
We then charged into the streets, bashing at soldiers, adding to the confusion as they tried to escape the sudden traps falling over them. I ignored the fighting and ran up to Clive, grabbing his restraints and holding them taut while a second shifter ran up with a pair of cutters that sheared through the chains.
“Come on,” I said, yanking his hood from his head. “We have to go, Clive. There’s no time to waste.”
“Jada?” Clive blinked in disbelief.
“I know. I was as surprised to see you.”
“How are you here?” he said, looking around as the rest of the prisoners were freed.
“No time, we have to go. I’ll explain later,” I said, guiding him and the others toward our exit. The sewers.
I yanked open the metal grate—
And pulled my head back as a dagger came for my head, courtesy of a silver-clad arm far below.
