I guess that’s why it takes me a moment to realize I’m being manhandled. Well, shaken is probably more accurate.
Slowly, I manage to lift my eyelids, and Nate comes into focus. He’s standing over me, holding the cloth that was undoubtedly shoved back into my mouth as I blink up at him.
“Am I… am I dreaming?” I mumble, trying to sit straighter and causing my back to protest angrily.
“You’re not dreaming,” Nate says, and the sound of his voice rouses me fully. “We need to go.”
“Nate,” I breathe out, panic suddenly overcoming me. “You have to be careful. These people, they want our gifts. You can’t let them find you; if they do—”
“Shh,” he coos, reaching around me to untie my wrists before moving to my ankles. “You’re alright. We just need to run.”
Nate looks paranoid, peeking around the empty warehouse as he slips the binds from my feet.
“Fuck,” I groan, the feeling of fire licking through my entire body causing me to stumble as he helps me stand.
“I know, little Lanny. But we’ll get you out of here. Did they… did they give you anything? Can you use coercion?”
I nod, then shake my head, then nod again before settling on, “They gave me some blue shit, but I think it’s gone now. I can feel the simmer in my chest again.”
“Show me,” he commands, sounding almost panicked as his eyes search mine.
And I’ve missed him so much. I’ve missed the push and pull, his now half-hearted glares, and the way he calms me so easily. Which is probably why my next sentence isn’t very hostage approved.
“Kiss me,” I whisper, shoving the simmer up my throat, and it takes him no time at all to lean down and take my lips with his.
It’s a fleeting kiss, one in which he just barely shoves his tongue against mine before he pulls away.
“Good,” he pants out. “That’s really good. Come on, we need to—”
“Nate, no,” I interrupt. “These guys are bad news. You have to listen to me.”
I have to warn him. I need him to understand the dangers we’re facing, or else everything will crumble around us.
Nate groans in irritation, sending me a pointed look. “Iknow. But if we don’t leave before they get back—”
“Beforewhogets back?” a familiar voice rings out. Joseph.
The sound of a gun cocking has both Nate and me freezing on the spot, peeking around the warehouse with wide eyes.
“Listen,” Nate murmurs, his eyes violent and aware as they flicker around us. “We need to use our gifts and—”
“Enough, Nathaniel.” Cecilia steps out from behind a shelf a few feet away, Joseph, Boston, and the last suit I don’t know the name of following behind her.
That man is holding the gun, pointing it right at me as my body begins to tremble. “Drink this, and I won’t shoot you. Yet.”
“Ryan,” Nate growls, his hand around my waist tightening. “Don’t you dare.”
But Cecilia is holding out another vial of that blue liquid, coaxing me. And I really,reallydon’t want to be shot, so I take it nimbly. It’ll be okay; Nate can usehisgift to free us.
The familiar feeling of the inflating balloon overcomes me, my vision briefly slurring, and I slouch against Nate.
“Ugh,” I groan. “That shit sucks.”
“Now, Repressor Nathaniel, tie him back to the chair. Listen well, and we won’t repressyou,” Joseph purrs.
I almost start laughing. I would, if I could manage it. There is no way Nate will tie me back to that chair, let alone follow this lie of him working for—
A startled sound leaves me as Nate shoves me back onto the metal fold-out, his fingers working quickly as he locks my ankles and wrists once more.
