Free Cross by Elle Thorne Page A

muddled.
    Griz kept appearing to him, telling him he needed to live, smacking him in the back of the head, jarring him from the deepest slumber that Cross knew awaited him.
    Why is Griz doing that?
    “Wait.” Cross winced from the effort of talking, looking for Doc. “Ariadne. She’s—”
    The shifters leaned closer.
    His strength was waning. Cross took a deep breath, flinching from the gurgling sound that came from his lungs. “—in my bunker.”
    “Got it.” Doc put his hand on Cross. “Shift now, friend, else you’ll regret it. Shift.”
    Cross heaved another breath, the bubbling sound louder.
    Then he heard Doc say, “Grant will know exactly where. His grandfather helped build these tunnels.”

Chapter Sixteen
    A riadne heard the gunshots aboveground . Not even being deep under the earth could have disguised those sounds.
    And she knew exactly what that meant.
    Cross didn’t have that kind of firepower. He wasn’t the one shooting. Not that amount of shooting. That was the result of several men with weapons.
    That could only mean one thing.
    A crushing sensation, worse than the fist of a titan, seized her heart, squeezing it, relentlessly stealing the life away.
    Stealing the hope away.
    Everything gone.
    Cross—she could feel his heartbeat getting weaker. She would have sworn to it; though how could that be? She barely knew this man.
    How can I feel this?
    Wherever Cross was, she could feel him getting weaker, going to a dark, deep place.
    “No. No!”
    And then he was gone. She couldn’t feel him anymore.
    “I’ve lost my mind.”
    No, she was sure she hadn’t. There was a connection to Cross. She didn’t know when it had happened but it was there.
    She felt him.
    She could feel him.
    And now he was gone.
    There was a void in a place she hadn’t even known existed.
    Ariadne tucked her legs against her body, leaned against the cold wall, rested her chin on her knees and cried.
    She cried like she’d never cried before, except for when she saw the video of Ben betraying her father.
----
    A riadne had no idea how much time passed. Without windows or a way to keep time, all she could figure out was that the tears had dried. Her face was swollen, she could feel the skin taut, stretching, puffy from crying. She was dehydrated, but had no will to drink. The lantern had gone out. She had no will to light it.
    Why should she?
    So she could make Ben’s job of finding and killing her easier?
    No. She’d not make that bastard’s job any easier. She’d seen a pipe in the corner that would make a good weapon.
    Feeling her way in the dark, Ariadne slowly made her way across the rustic floor.
    Damn.
    She’d stubbed her toe on something. She felt the smoothness of the wood with her fingertips. It was the cupboard. Going around it her fingers alit on the cool smooth pipe.
    More than three-foot-long, she hefted the heavy pipe between her hands and felt her way across the room, back to her cot.
    She slipped into place, assuming the same position, except this time, she had the pipe with her.
    Ben would pay.
----
    A riadne heard them . She heard the soft footfalls, the murmuring. Then she could sense their presence in the room with her. Definitely more than one man, judging from the rustling of their clothing.
    They were almost on her. She could almost feel the warmth of their breaths, she was sure. Though a part of her said it was ludicrous that she’d feel that.
    Taking the pipe in hand, she slowly raised it, leaning back, bracing herself for the impact.
    Ben would be first in line. He couldn’t stand the idea of not getting the credit for any task.
    What did I ever see in him?
    No time to deal with that now.
    She wanted Ben’s brains splattered on Cross’s bunker. A fitting end to this story.
    Then his men could shoot her. At least she’d have vengeance.
    She swung the pipe, it sailed through the air with a whoosh, while she anticipated the moment it would connect.
    It didn’t.
    It went all the way