Unbound

Chapter 20

The kids in his cell, those who'd been begging to be saved only moments ago, rushed around Hayden, their eyes locked on the men in orange jumpsuits. It was going to be a massacre. Beside him, Liam groaned.

"I can't do it," he muttered. His face was a sheen of sweat and his skin looked cold, clammy. "I can't. It won't work."

A black hand grabbed the shoulder of a boy trying to squeeze through the door of the cell across from them. The boy's jacket gave off wisps of smoke at first, then he began to scream as Peter jerked him back out of his way.

"Boy!" Peter bellowed, standing in the open door. Gone was his tailored suit and his pretense at normality. He stood in the form Hayden had first seen him in—skin as dark as ink, folded wings rising above his shoulders. The wings flexed as if breathing. He had to duck to exit the cell.

"Liam, you have to," Hayden swallowed. The sounds of battle—fists smacking against skin, bones cracking against bones—sought to drag him under. Kids screamed in pain as men twice their size broke against them in a wild, blood-curdling frenzy.

"I can't," Liam said, his voice pleading. His hands were outstretched like before and the strain was evident on his face.

Peter stalked toward them, but two kids jumped on him from behind. They wrapped their arms around his waist, somehow getting under his wings. He paused and his skin... shifted. Spots of dark, molten color appeared along the crust of his flesh and the kids, two boys, began to scream. He didn't even try to shake them off—just stood there as they melted against him.

Hayden looked around for a weapon, but there was nothing.

Black, smoking husks fell away from Peter's form and the creature started across the floor again. The bodies of the boys resembled nothing so much as chunks of charred meat.

"You'll pay for that, boy," Peter said. Dark red spilled from his lips with each word, like lava spilling from a jagged crag.

"Liam," Hayden took a step forward, putting himself between Liam and Peter. "That door to the right, run for it. Get somewhere and hide or something, just get the hell out of here." Hayden didn't want to die—far from it—and he was no hero. But, if it came down to him or Liam...

"I—I'm sorry," Liam said, and took off for the door.

Peter tracked him for a second, but turned his gaze back to Hayden. Did he think Hayden had torn apart the cell bars and shot them at him? If so, so be it.

"Where's Zareen?" Hayden asked.

Peter's lips split in a grin, like rocks breaking apart in a crooked, blackened line. "The artist formally known as Thomas?" He chuckled and glanced toward the floor as if looking through it. "She is otherwise... occupied."

Hayden clenched his fists. Maybe he was about to die, but he was damn sure going to wipe that smug grin off Peter's face before he did.

"Now tell me, how did you trick me, boy? I tested you and you were not a Warden. Did you just awaken? I must admit I thought Bart would be... bigger." Peter stopped in the center of the room, legs spread and hands clasped behind his back. Around him kids fought mindless prisoners, but he acted as if they were talking after a Sunday sermon.

"Go fuck yourself," Hayden spat.

"As you wish." He glanced at a pack of prisoners pummeling one of the boys and at once two of the prisoners stopped, turned, and began walking toward Hayden. Their eyes were completely blank, and one of them had a flap of skin hanging from his cheek that he ignored. Blood gushed from it with each step, coating his neck and jumpsuit. The other's arm swung at his side loosely, clearly broken. "Take him," Peter said, smiling. "I will have my answers, boy."