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How did I miss him?
I’ve walked all the way around the room, touching the wall as I go, but I didn’t explore the center of the room.
Carefully, I take a step, then another toward the center. I can’t see anything, but eventually, my foot hits a soft lump, and I stop, dropping to my hands and feet.
“Hello?” I say as I reach out to touch the person.
He moans once again.
“I’m not going to hurt you. Are you injured?”
The man doesn’t answer me, but he slowly sits up. I’m guessing he’s recovering from the same drugs used to knock me out.
I sit patiently by him while he comes to. It’s going to take him a moment to process everything.
Finally, I think we’re face to face. “Liar. You’ve already hurt me. I’m sure you’ll do it again.”
I gasp.
“Langston?”
“Yes, huntress. It’s me.”
I bite my lip as I stare into his golden eyes. It’s dark, but my eyes are slowly adjusting enough to make out the tiny specks of his hair falling over his eyes. It’s Langston, and I have no idea what we are both doing locked in this dungeon together. Maybe he locked us both in here so I would have nowhere to run, no safe place to hide for even a moment betwee
n him torturing me for truths.
“Please tell me this is your dungeon,” I say, realizing I’d prefer that to be the truth than the alternative. I can handle Langston as my enemy. I know him. I know what I’m up against. But an unknown enemy—I don’t know how to face that. And if we are really stuck in here together, I don’t want to have to fight with Langston by my side.
He winces as he sits fully upright. “This is my dungeon.”
“Liar,” I breathe.
He curses once again as he tries to move.
“Where are you hurt?” I ask, moving the heavy chains as I reach out to Langston to find the wound.
“Why do you care? If I’m hurt and die, then you win.”
I roll my eyes. “Because I’m stuck in a dungeon with no door. My hands are bound together with a heavy metal chain. Unfortunately, you are my only hope of getting out of here alive. So tell me where you are injured so I can make sure you stay alive long enough to kick our attacker’s ass.”
“I’m not injured. It’s just the drugs. Everything hurts when I move.”
“Wimp,” I say with a smile.
“Yes, I’m a wimp. Sorry, I don’t like pain.”
Now, I’m smiling.
“Are your arms chained?” I ask.
He lifts them, and I hear them rattle together. “Yes.”
“Legs?”
He shifts, and I hear nothing but his feet moving against the stone. “Nope.”
“Good.” I take a deep breath, trying to think. “What do you remember? Who attacked us? Who is holding us captive?”
