Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 5

up. He spared a glance for the other people, but there was no way he could smuggle more. Despair was ubiquitous in this place, and he could not shoulder the burden without falling down too.
    All the eyes along the walls followed Drake as he carried a man out – probably one of the first to leave still alive in their lifetimes – and pushed through the icy gales until he reached the transport ship. He tucked the man into the lower deck and settled in for the flight, praying that the old man would at least live until he could see Sebastian again.
    The flight took longer on the way back, as they detoured to avoid an impromptu checkpoint. Twenty rotations passed by the time he carried the frail man up the steps. He was relieved he'd thought to keep up his rental on his rooms, that the house was still standing, and the old woman met him at the door, still well.
    Officially, Drake lived in officer housing near Ke'lan headquarters, but he'd held onto this room, dutifully sending the pittance Maria charged for rent. When she'd been drowned by the exorbitant land ownership taxes, he'd purchased the house. Something had compelled him to use a pseudonym and convoluted channels for the transaction.
    Maybe it would always have come to this.
    Having a space that wasn't under surveillance by the Ke'lan would help him now. Hell, he needed a whole block, a city, an entire life free of them. He'd joined them voluntarily but leaving, after he knew their secrets, was an impossibility. And yet, even knowing this, his mind circled the question. Examined it from every angle. Conjured images of dark, flashing eyes – too hopeful for their circumstances – as a means of inspiration.
    His stomach tightened at the reminder. Sebastian waited, staked in a pit of vipers. It had damn near killed Drake to leave him there, but Sebastian had wanted this. What did it mean that he'd put the wishes of another man above his own?
    He settled El Basque in a bed while Maria bustled to get supplies to tend him.
    "Why?" The words were expelled from El Basque's chest on a loud, rickety breath.
    Drake studied the deeply lined face, absent of anything that could be called pallor. "Sebastian sent me."
    Rather than comforting him, the words made the old man struggle.
    "Calm yourself," Drake said.
    Glassy eyes sharpened almost imperceptibly. "Where is he? Can I see him?"
    "I'm going to get him now. You must rest while I'm gone."
    El Basque fell back onto the bed all while barely moving a muscle. Maria brushed past Drake and began peeling the thin gray cloth away from El Basque's thin gray skin.
    Due to the seclusion of the house, far from the Ke'lan gates, it took two, tense rotations for Drake to reach headquarters. The final crystals of sand perched at the top of the hourglass, ready to fall, but he had made it back in time. Now he only had to accomplish the impossible and break Sebastian from his prison.
    He went first to his office to retrieve the key to the cell. Out of habit, maybe, or more likely a gnawing desperation to look upon the face of a certain man, he flipped on the monitor. Sebastian was nowhere to be seen. Drake scanned the shadows of the cell, but the cameras were designed to encompass every spot.
    The room was empty.
    ****
    Sebastian grunted as the blow glanced off his ribs with a small but alarming crack. But these men were far too well trained to break anything. At least, anything that would be necessary for him to live long enough to tell secrets he didn't have.
    He had his answer, then.
    Drake had offered to set him free. Sebastian had begged him to find his father. Drake's response had been these beefy gentlemen, kindly offering their fists to the cause.
    So be it.
    Sebastian was too jaded to feel disappointment. This jagged, gutted feeling was just the result of the uppercut. Gods, but he wasn't lucky enough to believe his own bullshit.
    He'd thought for a moment that Drake was going to help him. What an idiot. The blow to his jaw was almost a relief, a physical outlet for his own self-castigation.
    The man was a Ke'lan general. Drake had been toying with him. It would almost have been a compliment, if he hadn't fallen for it. Pain ripped through Sebastian's chest.
    Right now Drake was probably laughing about his folly. Or worse, maybe he'd forgotten about him altogether. Run the mouse through his claws and tossed him away in search of worthier prey. A kick to his groin would have brought him to his knees – thank the gods for the