The Jackal (Black Dagger Brotherhood: Prison Camp #1)(87)

“Shhh . . . ,” he said as they breathed heavily.

They rounded a corner slowly, him in front.

Empty. The industrial kitchen, with its stainless steel counters and ovens and professional-grade mixers, and dishwashers and stoves and hanging racks of saucepans, was empty—and had been left in a hurry. There were bowls with floury dough in them, and meat partially cut on wooden boards, and measuring cups still filled with liquids to be poured.

“This way—”

The rumbling in the distance brought their heads around.

“Come on,” Jack said. “The collapse is spreading out from the Hive.”





Nyx stayed on pace, keeping up with Jack as there was yet another tunnel, another passage, another straightaway, another corner. She had no idea where they were—and then . . . Jack slowed. And finally halted. He looked back and forth, and then put his hand on the wall.

“What now?” she said through sawing inhales.

Jack took her hands and pulled her in close. His eyes went around her face, and he lifted up his chains so that he could brush a strand of hair from her mouth.

And that was when she knew.

“No, you’re coming with me,” she said before he could speak. “We’re going together. Right now—”

Lowering his arms, he put his hand back on the rock wall. When he hit something, a panel slid open. The air that was released was moldy and damp.

She sneezed and didn’t give a shit. Grabbing his arm with her cuffed hands, she put her face in his. “Let’s go. We’re doing this together—”

“No one knows about this.” He looked into the darkness that had been revealed. “It’s a secret I’ve kept. I’ve been hoping to use it, but there was never the right time.”

In the passageway, down thirty feet or more, a dingy bulb flared on the ceiling.

“Jack.” She bent down and bundled up the chains that hung from his wrists. “I’m not going alone—”

“Follow this as far as it goes. There’s only that one light bulb, so you’ll have to feel your way toward the—”

“Jack! You’re coming with me—”

“When you get to the end, the switch is on the right. About three feet from the ground. You’ll feel it—”

“What the hell is wrong with you! She abused you! Why are you staying for her!”

Jack recoiled. “What are you talking about?”

“Are you really going to pretend I didn’t hear what you said to her—to the Command? And still, after all that, you won’t leave her?”

“You think this is about the Command?” The laugh that came out of him was harsh. And then his eyes narrowed and he grew remote. “Tell me. Who is she to you. And don’t deny it. I saw you two side by side.”

When Nyx replied, she felt as if she said the words across a vast distance—even though she and Jack were close enough that she could feel his body heat.

“She’s my sister. Or she was. That was . . . Janelle.”

“Dearest Virgin Scribe,” he groaned. “How is it possible?”

As he closed his eyes and collapsed on the wall, he seemed so exhausted that he could barely stand, and she had a thought—a fleeting thought—that she should have fed him when she’d had the chance.

“She hurt you,” Nyx said in a voice that cracked. “My sister . . . hurt you. Oh, God, Jack, why are you staying for her?”

His eyes popped open. “It’s not about her. It’s about . . . my young. She has my young in here. I need to go find . . . my young. That’s why I couldn’t leave—why I can’t.”

“Oh, fuck . . .” Her sister’s young. Jack’s young. “You had a . . .”

“I’m not in love with her. I hate her. But the young is innocent of everything she did to me.”

Jack lowered his head, the shame and anger around him charging the air with emotion. And Nyx wanted to help him somehow, but there were complex emotions for her, too.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, aware that the words covered so much about the situation. About him. About her. About what Janelle had done.

As his eyes finally focused properly on her, she was reminded of him waking out of that nightmare, back by the pool. Just as then, his stare was haunted and confused. But that changed quick.

“You need to go.” When she went to speak, he put his palm up to stop her and then pointed into the passageway. “Listen to me. I dug this out with my bare hands. I kept this to myself all these years because I was going to take the one thing in this hateful place that I love out of it. It makes all the sense in my world that you would be who uses it.”

Nyx grabbed at his tunic. “But I can help find—”

“Don’t ask me to carry that guilt with me.”

“What are you talking about? Carry what—”

He put his hands on her shoulders, the chains draping down the front of her body. “I just watched the closest thing I had to a friend kill himself. For you and me. For us. So we could survive. If you die down here? Then Kane sacrificed himself for nothing. And if I leave here without my young? I’m dead up there. So you’re going now, and you’re going to get out, and you’re going to live—”