Boral jerks his head toward the hall on the other side of the doors, indicating he’s ready to move. I nod, confident in our plan to just storm in. One or two unsuspecting daemons would be easy to dispatch. The most perilous thing we’d be facing was to make sure Blain stayed safe if there was a big battle.
Shifting forward, Boral looks through the glass again. The hallway is apparently empty as he puts his shoulder to the door and slowly pushes it open. He slips through, and I follow behind him. As we had discussed in our impromptu plans, given that he’s immortal and I’m not, he’d go first and act as a shield for me if things go badly.
Boral creeps down the tiled hallway, and I do the same. We reach the bathroom door on the left first and see that it’s partially open but the light is out. Boral pushes it all the way open, letting the light shine in from the hall.
Empty.
He then moves to the office, where we suspect Blain might be. The door is closed and Boral walks past it just a few feet, his eyes moving between the next closed door to the break room and the large gallery just beyond in case someone should come from there. It’s up to me to check out the office.
I reach out to the doorknob, twisting it slowly, and when it’s unlatched, I throw it open in case daemons are inside, hoping they’ll be startled. At the same time, I immediately throw up my shield in front of me in case they get off a hastily tossed weapon.
But inside, I find only Blain and my heart sinks when I see him.
“Christ,” I mutter, latching my whip back to my holster. I instruct Boral, “Keep watch while I untie him.”
I move swiftly inside and across the room where Blain is tied with rope around his hands and ankles. He’s lying on his side on the cold, bare floor, and he hadn’t even twitched when I threw the door open. My heart pounding, I squat and press my fingertips to his carotid artery.
There’s immediate relief that his skin is warm, and it takes only a second or two to feel the rhythmic beat of his pulse.
I don’t know if he’s drugged or just exhausted, but he doesn’t move when I touch him. His face is covered in bruises, old and new, so he’s clearly been taking some regular beatings. My guess is it’s just for fun because he’s clearly subdued. He’s also lost a lot of weight. I see it within his gaunt, pale face the most.
With no time to work on knots, I use my magic to undo them and free his wrists and ankles. Putting my hand on his shoulder, I give him a shake. “Blain… I need you to wake up.”
He doesn’t move.
I glance back at the doorway, noting Boral has moved to it so I can see him, but his attention is still focused on the gallery.
I shake Blain a little harder, but still keep my voice at a whisper. “Blain. Come on. Wake up.”
He groans, sucks in a deep breath, and lets it out in a slight snore. He’s either been drugged or he’s under some type of spell, but clearly this is why they feel comfortable leaving him here on the floor and unguarded.
I rise and move back to the doorway, murmuring to Boral. “He’s out cold. I can’t lift him so you’re going to have to carry him out of here.”
Boral leans back a bit to look past me to Blain. He grimaces in distaste, but nods his head in agreement. Tucking his gun in the back waistband of his belted pants, he enters the office and I exit to keep watch. At this point, it’s so quiet I’m fairly sure we’re all alone in here, but I know better than to let my guard down. The door to the breakroom is closed, and there could be daemons in there.
With a quick glance, I see Boral reach down. With his super fae strength, he lifts Blain easily as if he were no more than a feather pillow he was tossing over his shoulder. He has him in a fireman’s carry and grips onto his legs with one hand while reaching back and getting his gun to hold in the other.
“Let’s go,” Boral murmurs as he moves into the hallway. Turning left, he heads toward the double doors leading to the loading room.
I give him my back, keeping my eyes toward the gallery. I start walking backward, past the bathroom. I’m almost to the double doors that I heard Boral move through, because I’m sure I heard Blain’s head thunk against the metal, when movement catches my eye.
At first, it’s just a shadow moving at the edge of the hallway that borders the gallery, and I realize it’s someone moving our way.