Four-Letter Words Evans, Gabrielle (best detective novels of all time .TXT) 📖

Of course, Thane had tried his best to persuade Zasha into staying behind with the leader as well, but it wasn’t going to happen. He’d know the dangers when they’d left Snake River, and he was prepared to walk through fire for his mate. Beyond his unwavering loyalty and driving need to protect Thane, dismantling this threat was the right thing to do. He may not be a warrior. Maybe he wasn’t brave or heroic. Zasha could still be an asset, though, and he full intended to see this through.

Stepping through the hoop of rippling air felt like being doused in ice water and then immediately walking into a spider’s web, but the discomfort dissipated once he was fully past the broken barrier. Part of him had expected to step forward right into the lake. Part of him wished he had.

The salt mines that lay abandoned and forgotten on the floor of Lake Mead gave him the goddamn creeps. The tunnel that stretched on before him was dark, unwelcoming, and crawling with an energy of its own. Pressing a hand to the rocks on his right, Zasha swore he could even feel the walls breathing.

“Thane?”

“I’m on it, baby.” Thane’s fingers brushed the small of Zasha’s back, and a moment later, the tunnel was illuminated with a bright, amber light.

Zasha just smiled and shook his head. He never would understand magic. The glowing sphere that rested in his partner’s palm was no bigger than a golf ball, nowhere near big enough to create the amount of light it produced. Still, at least he wasn’t stumbling through the dark anymore.

The walls crept closer together as they continued forward until everyone was forced to walk single file through the crumbling corridor with Kieran Delaney leading the silent charge. Surrounded on all sides by warm bodies or cold rocks, Zasha felt caged, as though he was being herded along a chute to the slaughterhouse.

The air grew heavy, thick, and each inhalation was more difficult than the last. He squirmed and fidgeted, wiping at his arms or rubbing the back of his neck. It was the strangest sensation, not like something was crawling over him, but as though his skin itself was moving.

“Easy,” Thane whispered to him. “It’s just a spell. Calm your mind. Relax. It’ll pass in a minute.”

It wasn’t an easy request to honor, but Zasha did his best to cease the franticness of his thoughts. A hundred feet further into the tunnel, and his dedication rewarded him with a lungful of clean, crisp oxygen. Now that he no longer feared suffocating, it was much easier to name what was bothering him.

“It’s too quiet.” Other than the muffled sounds of their footsteps and the crunch of rocks beneath their boots, the mines were utterly silent. He hadn’t expected the witches to be throwing a frat party, but even a quiet conversation should have carried and echoed. Despite his sensitive hearing, however, Zasha could detect no other living things within the underwater maze. “I don’t hear anyone.”

“They’re here,” Thane assured him. Pressing one finger to his lips, he nodded once and closed his other hand, extinguishing the ball of light and plunging them into total darkness.

A left turn, a right turn, a gradual incline, around a sloping curve—they trudged on, and Zasha was beginning to think they were walking in circles. Turning his head to the side, he intended to ask Thane what was going on, but his toe caught on a large chunk of fallen rock, and he was propelled forward with a low grunt.

Luckily, he didn’t go sprawling into the mud, but several things had happened in the mere seconds it had taken him to find his balance. A muted thud sounded from behind him, followed by Thane screaming his name. More thuds followed, though they sounded distant and hollow. It was the panicked, terrified edge to his mate’s tone that caused his gut to cramp, and he’d have given anything to be able to see.

A heartbeat later, his mother’s voice rang in his ears, reminding him to be careful of what he wished for—and she was right as usual. Hundreds of floating lanterns came to life as one where they hovered near the domed ceiling of a cavernous room. Hissing through his teeth, Zasha dropped his head and squeezed his eyes closed, momentarily blinded by the bright beacons above him.

Seconds ticked by like hours while he waited for his vision to return and the spots to stop dancing before him. Once he was able to focus again, he almost wished he was still blind. At least twenty smirking faces stared back at him. Dressed in blood red robes, the strangers gathered in the center of the cave-like room, seemingly calm as though nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

More disturbing than the calm, silent stance of his enemies were the enormous steel cages suspended from the ceiling by long, thick chains. Imprisoned within each of the six cages were wide-eyed children with pale, dirty faces. Three more cages perched on makeshift tables along the curving wall, each containing men and women, adults who appeared no less terrified than the children above them.

“Zasha! Zasha!” Thane screamed his name over and over. Though the sound was softened and distorted, the witch’s voice had lost some of the franticness from earlier. Now, he just sounded pissed.

Not sure how many more surprises he could withstand, Zasha cast a hesitant glance over his shoulder and almost whimpered when he found all four Braddocks trapped behind another invisible barrier. Thane’s features were a twisted mask of unadulterated rage, transforming his handsome face into something from a nightmare.

The seal that held him trapped within the corridor shuddered and pulsed under the persistent pounding of Thane’s fists, and Zasha imagined once his mate was free, there would be hell to pay. Lynk called to his mate as well, appearing more frightened than angry