“That depends if anyone finds her before that wound becomes fatal.”
Fuck.
Ian lifted his chin and squared his shoulders as much as he could with his arms he restrained. He refused to show Peter how terrified he was right then.“You gonna kill me now?”
“No.” He grabbed Ian by the shoulder and dragged him towards the chair, shoving him unceremoniously down into it. The metal rubbed over his wrists, sore from the constant burn of the silver. “Plans have changed.” With both hands on the arms of Ian’s chair, Peter leaned forward. “I’m still going to kill you, probably, but first you’re going to help me with something.” He stood and pulled his phone out. “I’m just waiting for a call.”
He grinned at Ian as it started to vibrate in his hand, then answered it. “What the fuck happened to your eyes?”
Michael huffed. “Bitch sprayed me with something, but we’ve got her.”
Peter glanced up at Ian, smirk in place, and Ian felt the room close in.
That motherfucker.
“Did she give you any trouble other than that?” Peter asked, gaze still fixed on Ian.
He tried to get up from the chair, but Peter merely reached out and pushed him back into it, like swatting a fly.
“No,” Michael answered. “Simon got her from behind. It was disappointing not to have to use more force.”
Peter laughed. “Maybe you’ll get your chance later if Ian fails to deliver.” He turned the phone around to show Ian the screen.
He had Michael on FaceTime, eyes red and watering, but it was little consolation.
“Show him,” Peter ordered.
Michael flipped the screen around to show the backseat of a car. Darkened windows kept the outside world at bay, but sat there, eyes wide with terror, was Cate. Whoever sat beside her held a long, serrated blade to her throat. One flick of their wrist and they’d slice through her skin.
Peter looked at the screen and frowned. “I hope they’ve already eaten. One nick from that blade and who knows what might happen—”
“Stop,” Ian gritted out. Cate’s eyes met Ian’s and his heart broke. “What the fuck do you want?”
Peter abruptly ended the call with Michael and retrieved Ian’s phone. He held it out in front of him for Ian to see as he scrolled through the numbers, settling on the one he wanted. “You’re going to make a phone call, and you’re going to be convincing.”
“And if I don’t?” Ian asked.
“Then your charming friend Cate becomes dinner.”
“They’ll catch you.”
Peter laughed. “Who? Your friend at the VLCD? He’ll be devastated to find out one of his best friends turned vampire and killed his other BFF. Tragic, really.”
Ian bared his teeth, wanting to sink them into Peter’s neck so badly they ached. “Jesse was right. You really are an egotistical wanker.”
Peter’s smile never wavered. “Such high praise from one who would know.” He tapped the phone. “Now make the call unless you want Cate’s last thought to be how you let her down?”
Ian forced his fangs away and glared at Peter, having no choice but to do as he said. “Fine.” He closed his eyes and tried to centre himself. This was going to be one of the hardest things he’d ever done.Please forgive me Jesse.“Call the number.”
BORED WITH WATCHING the news, Jesse grabbed the remote and turned the TV off then checked his phone.
Almost time.
He’d hoped Ian and Lys would’ve got to his flat before he had to leave and meet Blake; he’d sent the text twenty minutes ago asking them to come there instead but they hadn’t arrived and hadn’t replied to his text either. There were a couple of signal blackspots on the way from the coven to town, but they should be well passed them by now.
He dialled Lys’s number, then tried Ian’s when hers went straight to voicemail. Ian’s did the same. For fuck’s sake, what was going on?
Unease settled low in his belly, instinct telling him something had gone wrong. Had Peter got to Ian? Surely Lys would’ve called him if something had happened to him?
