Unknotted

Picks and Plans

Georgie

My heart to heart with Whiskers was like something straight out of a R.F. Letcher novel. So much so that I wondered if the author might have been in a few of these types of situations herself. What always came after this in those novels was a moment of clarity, usually followed by declarations of love.

That wasn’t how this story was going to end.

While Whisker had asked his questions and I had picked and chosen which to answer, I had eased the lockpick kept up the sleeve of my armor precisely for moments like these. This wasn’t the first time I had found myself cuffed. And, let’s be real, wouldn’t be my last. If I survived this mission at least. I gave myself a forty-sixty shot of making it out. Not good odds, but not the worst I had encountered.

Hours of practice made picking a cuff easy enough. The trouble was figuring out where to go from there. I didn’t feel the tide coming any time soon, but whatever I did, it would have to happen before the return of magic. Running from a bunch of hybrids was easier when they couldn’t access beasts forms.

I counted about six Namenite soldiers, seven counting Admon, each armed with rifles that I doubted were filled with tranquilizer darts. We weren’t in Keadan after all. The two trolls who had overseen the transport of the shipment through the portal lounged in the terminal’s booth. Most likely, if a fight broke out, they wouldn’t do much unless their pay rested on the shipment making it safely to Tredema. Another reason I needed to act before the tide came in and the portal returned.

Harhort and Wanddy were another hurdle. I eyed my toolbelt. My glasses with the enchanter-resistant lens were in there, but the hope of reaching the belt undetected was slim to none.

All that considered, I was fairly confident I could escape. Flying off at the turn of the tide was a simple matter. The trouble was, I refused to leave emptyhanded. Leaving these hybrid prisoners to their fates while I could still do something was a crippling thought.

I pressed my ear to my shoulder until the static of my earpiece buzzed. “Can you hear me?”

“Yeah?” Whiskers said, brows pinching.

I shot him a glare and turned away, keeping my voice low. “Anyone? Are you there?”

“Georgie?” Helt’s voice sounded frantic, and I was half afraid my antics would give the old man a heart attack. “Where are you?”

“In Namen with the shipment waiting on the portal to reopen. I’m a little tied up.” Sort of, I had the cuffs dangling from one hand.

“You foolish girl,” Helt chided.

“Not now, okay? You can scold me later. I need a direction. How close are the other teams?”

“Are you talking to me or yourself?” Whiskers cast a look around the yard.

I shushed him, rolling my eyes. So rude of him to interrupt.

Helt hesitated. “There’s another small portal about fifty miles from your location. If you can move the shipment there, it’ll take you into Keadan. I can have transportation ready to take the victims from there to the Sanctuary. Can you manage that?”

I worried my lip and cast a glance at Whiskers who was looking at me as if I was speaking to ghosts or something. As if I would ever entangle myself with creepy, disembodied beings. I shook off an involuntary shiver.

Helt’s plan… I couldn’t manage it. At least, not alone. I considered Whiskers. He seemed appropriately bothered by the newsflash of the Shadow Market’s existence. But was he troubled enough to do something about it? Was that enough for me to trust him? At this point, what did I really have to lose?

“Have your teams ready.” I pressed my shoulder to my ear and cut the sound off. It would chime if Helt needed to reach me again. “I’ll make you a deal,” I said to Whiskers.

Face pinched in confusion, he was eyeing the Namenite soldiers. Ignoring me.

I bumped my elbow against his. “Hello, I have an offer for you.”

“Oh? You’re talking to me now. Not the voices in your head?”

“You’re the one who’s insisting I’m crazy. Now listen.” I scooted closer. “If we’re going to escape, you’re going to have to do as I say.”

I waited for him to bristle with indignation as dominants did when told to take an order. He didn’t. Instead, his eyes fixed on me with intense curiosity and an openness. Well, that was a good sign.

“I’m not leaving here without the prisoners,” I continued.

“How are you planning to leave here at all? Going to fight all these soldiers off with your feet alone?”

“That’s an idea. I have a better one though. If you help me, I swear to the Core, or whatever, that I’ll turn myself over so you can do whatever you wish to me.”

His brows lifted, and heat rose in my cheeks. That wasn’t supposed to sound as suggestive as it had.

“Within reason,” I amended. “You can turn me over to your ultras so they can sell me for the Tide Reverser.”

“And if that’s not what I wish to do? What if I rather discover why the Core keeps drawing us together? What if my wish is to be knotted to you?”

“Then I would tell you that you’re crazier than I am.”

“The only thing that seems to scare you is me.”

“I’m not afraid of you. Mostly. Only the knot you threaten to tangle me in.”

He drew back. “It’s the pragmora knot that scares you?”

“Any knot scares me. It’s some Core, which I do not know or trust, binding me to paths that haven’t chosen for myself. I would rather be weaker while unknotted than lose my ability to pick my journey.”

“Unknotted…?” He mused the word thoughtfully. His lips quirked into a grin I found rather pleasing to look at, even if the rest of his face looked like bruised meat. “No hybrid is entirely unknotted. We all have a bond with the land we hail from. Fighting that truth, that’s probably why you’re on the verge of insanity.”

He could believe whatever he wanted. As far as I knew I was the only hybrid who was entirely unknotted, and I was content to remain that way.

“Do we have a deal? My surrender in exchanged for your help saving the prisoners?”

He studied me for several long moments. Long enough that I wanted to fidget under his stare, but I held my ground. Finally, his staring granted him some clarity, and he nodded.

“Come closer.”

He leaned toward me, his face lowering toward mine.

I held my place though his closeness made more heat gather under my mask. “I need your hands, not your face. Angle so I can reach your hands, but our guards can’t see them. And turn away as if this intimate conversation we are having displeases you. Make it convincing, we have an audience.”

From the corner of my eye, I caught two Namenites shooting glances our way with blatant curiosity. If they were expecting to watch a spicy make out session or something, they would be sorely disappointed.

Whiskers frowned and shifted away as I had told him to without any further questions. The way he took commands in stride reminded me of my original evaluation of this dominant. He was certainly odd. His simple acceptance of the plan made something flutter from my stomach into my chest. Whatever that “something” was, it was concerning. I should probably schedule an appointment with my doctor.

Shoving those weird thoughts aside, I rested my shoulder against his until our sides were flushed against each other, our hands entirely concealed. He flexed a little at my touch before relaxing again.

Pick in hand, I felt the way toward his cuffs. His fingers fidgeted as mine skated over his. He had strong hands, double the size of my slender ones. Even through my gloves I felt the callouses of someone who worked with their hands, much like those found on my own.

It took only seconds to flip the locking pin in the cuffs. They swung free. Whiskers almost gasped, but I grabbed his hand and squeezed. He took the hint and settled before the guards noticed his surprise.

“Who carries tools to pick handcuffs? Do you always have those on hand?”

“In the short time you’ve known me, does it really surprise you that I have tools tucked up my sleeve.”

“I’d give my right leg to know everything you have in that toolbelt.”

“If we succeed, I just might give you a tour. Free of charge. Now, here’s what we’re going to do.”