Page 94 of Rattle the Cage

Licking her teeth, the guard smirked. “Friend of Xander Stone?”

Nodding, I kept my face as neutral as possible. All I could do was hope that my accomplices could manage the same.

“Go right ahead.” The guard stepped to the side of the door. “Welcome to The Station.”

49

TESS

So that’s what this is called: The Station.

Pushing ahead, Cyrus pushed open the metal door just past the security guard who kept her eyes peeled on us as we passed.

Swallowing hard, my whole body was on fire with nerves. Even getting past the guard didn’t make me feel safe.

My grip on Nash’s sleeve grew tighter as we stepped into a long, quiet corridor.

Lit by soft, orange Edison bulbs, it was strangely calming.

But at the end of the hall was another door, and none of us could predict what could be behind it.

As we stepped closer, Cyrus stopped in her tracks and turned to face the three of us. “Remember, long hallway with doors and closed rooms. Door will be open, a person in brown robes inside.”

That’s what we were looking for. It was a vague description but the best Xander could explain without getting us there herself.

Blade gripped the collar of her dress shirt, pulling it away from her neck. “I’m gonna choke it this fucking thing.”

“No, you won’t.” Cyrus snapped.

Ever since Blade had put the suit on, she’d been squirming. She was desperate to run through the park, to feel some wind on her face and the open air on her back.

Even Nash seemed itchy, not sitting as still as she normally would.

This whole outfit was a far cry from her usual uniform: bare-feet and jeans in the apartment, a loose shirt when we were wandering Feverpoint.

Only Cyrus seemed comfortable. And even then, only with her clothes. She was on edge about this mission and where it would lead us.

I hated that they didn’t have their weapons.

God only knew what we’d be walking into.

But as my eyes drifted down Nash’s arm to her hands, lightning bolts and spider webs inching their way to her fingers, I noticed an array of gold rings. The honey tone on her hands matched that of her piercings.

At least the rings are sharp.

Blade wore them too — thorns, crowns, and skulls with ridges that would do some damage if they met flesh.

It was the best we could get.

Cyrus’s shoulders stiffened as she pressed into the heavy, metal door at the end of the corridor.

I flinched as soon as it swung open, a flood of pounding music swallowing the silence of the hallway.

A heavy EDM beat pulsed as Cyrus stepped into The Station.

My high-heels clicked against the plexiglass over a grated, metal mezzanine. Stomach dropping as I looked between the slits, I gripped Nash tighter.

“Easy, Sweet Lamb. I got you.” Her voice was a deep rumble in my ear, barely audible over the DJ’s mix.