Skin Game (The Dresden Files, #15)(81)

“I’d rather die than forsake my duty or ask for your help,” snarled Grayson.

Eddie sighed and handed Adrian his gun. “Keep it on him while I check the rooms out.”

I was pretty sure Adrian had never used any sort of gun in his life, but he managed to look pretty convincing as he kept this one trained on Grayson. I leaned against the wall and watched as Eddie scanned an ID badge at each door, opened it, and looked inside. On his third attempt, I saw him lunge into a room. I couldn’t see what happened but could hear the sounds of altercation.

Adrian glanced down at me, a frown creasing his forehead as he assessed my worn appearance more closely. Whatever strides I’d made after leaving solitary confinement had probably been diminished with my recent captivity. “You haven’t been telling the truth. All those times I asked what else they were doing to you—”

“I wasn’t lying,” I said, averting my eyes.

“You just didn’t tell me,” he said. “When was the last time you ate?”

I was spared an answer when Eddie came out with another Alchemist at gunpoint. This time, Eddie definitely had a real gun, so I assumed he’d disarmed the guy in the room.

“Zip-tie this guy,” Eddie told Adrian, “and go release the girl in there since you’re a pro at those tables. I couldn’t make heads or tails of it.”

I gave an encouraging nod to Adrian, who looked reluctant to leave me. After binding the second Alchemist, Adrian disappeared into the room. I glanced at Eddie. “Are you sure there’s not a fire? The alarms are still going off.”

“Oh, yeah,” said Eddie, “there’s definitely a fire. We’re just counting on it not reaching us since it’s a few floors up. At least, it was.”

I turned his words over in my head, making sure I truly understood them and wasn’t just mishearing things in my bedraggled state. I was actually pretty sure I could smell smoke but wasn’t certain if that was just my imagination. A minute or so later, Adrian came out of the room supporting a girl a little older than me, dressed in the same tan scrubs. My first thought when I saw her was: Do I look that bad? No, I decided, there was no way. I looked pretty bad, I knew, but something about her told me she’d been there much, much longer than I had. Her face was gaunt and pale beneath what looked like normally tanned skin. Her scrubs were a size too big, suggesting she’d lost considerable weight since first getting them, and her black hair was limp and in bad need of a thorough scrubbing and a haircut. She reminded me of how I’d looked coming out of solitary, only ten times worse. I hadn’t been on this level for long and had enjoyed the benefit of food and sleep for the last few weeks.

Compassion flashed over Eddie’s face, and then his hardened nature took over. “Let’s go. Can you help both of them?”

I straightened up from the wall and waved Adrian off. “Help her. I can walk, just slowly.”

Adrian looked uncertain, but it was clear this other girl needed him more than me. I walked beside her as our strange party moved down the hall and found myself trying to reassure her about a situation I knew nothing about. “It’s okay,” I said. “Everything’s going to be okay. We’re going to get you out of here. What’s your name?”

Her dark eyes stared blankly ahead, and I wondered if she even heard me. Maybe she’d survived being in torture for so long by tuning out human voices. “Ch-chantal,” she said. Her voice was barely a whisper, and I wouldn’t have been able to hear it over the alarm if I hadn’t been leaning close to her.

“Chantal …” I gasped. “I think I know you. I mean, I know of you. I know Duncan. He’s my friend.”

A tiny, barely perceptible spark of life appeared in her eyes. “Duncan? Duncan’s here?”

“Yeah, he’s waiting for us.” I glanced questioningly at Adrian as I spoke, and he nodded in confirmation, emboldening me. “You’ll see him soon. He’s going to be so happy to see you. He’s missed you a lot. He had no idea you’ve been here this whole time.”

A chill ran through me at my own words. This whole time. Duncan had said the Alchemists had taken her away a year ago. Had she been in the “persuasion” area that long? It was horrifying. No wonder she looked like she did. And yet, the fact that she’d survived that and was apparently still enough of a threat to stay locked up spoke legions about her character. Maybe she and I should’ve been flattered to be in that exclusive club.

Eddie led us to the stairwell, and everything seemed clear until we opened the door and stepped out on the solitary floor. A wall of smoke hit us, thick and noxious, blocking the way between us and the control center that held the exit. He scowled. “I didn’t expect it to spread down here so fast—especially if it’s not in the stairwell.”

None of us spoke right away, uncertain of what to do. It was a surprise when Chantal was the first to comment.

“It’s the way the vents are set up,” she murmured. “Where is the fire?”

“The living floor,” said Adrian.

She frowned in thought and seemed to be coming more and more to life with each passing second. “Then this is probably just smoke. Of course … I shouldn’t say ‘just.’ People often erroneously think only the fire itself is dangerous, when smoke proves just as lethal.”