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“You bitch,” he snarls. “You little bitch. Where is she? Where is India?”
I open my mouth to speak, but his hands fasten around my throat. The bastard. I try to choke out the words I need to say, but he won’t let me. His hands are huge. They are squeezing. He is so fucking strong. My hand reaches for my pocket but he feels it. He squeezes his thighs around my torso, trapping my arm against it. The bastard. He has me pinned. I buck and I thrash but I cannot get free. My body is no match for his. Goddamn it.
I scream, but my breath only wheezes out. Lights are popping in the darkness before my eyes. Lights that aren’t really there. I am suffocating. I’m going to die.
The hell I will. I will not die. Not after I have waited so long for my payday.
My legs and my hips twist and writhe. I kick and buck and thrash. But there is no getting him off me. I’ve made it worse. My arm is trapped beneath my torso now, pinned by the full weight of him on top of me. I need that arm.
“India is here,” I say. The words do not actually come out of course, because he is choking me to death.
But he hears enough. “Where is she?” he snarls.
His hand eases away from my neck to let me speak, to tell him about India.
I say the incantation. The magic locked into the shield bracelet on my wrist explodes outwards. It throws him off me. But it doesn’t hurt him. It only winds him.
He screams in rage. He is between me and the door of the cage. I can’t get out. I scramble backwards away from him. He roars in rage and charges towards me. My bracelet is used up. There is no more shield magic. And I am weak. Too weak.
I scream in equal rage as he comes at me. I thrust my hand into my pocket. I came prepared. I grab the potion-tipped spike. He throws himself on top of me and I thrust my fist forward, the spike clutched in my fist. Its slender length sinks into his chest. He feels its sharpness, but it is too late. Even as his mouth contorts into a snarl of fury and realization, his body gives up on him. He collapses.
I crawl out from under him. I am panting with exhilaration and effort. I pat his cheek as he lays there helpless, the glint of his eyes telling me that he is glaring up at me. I’ve bested him, the muscle bound fool. I’ve reduced him to a dog.
“Stephen Manners, you little idiot. How do you like me now?” I taunt.
He says nothing. He resents me using his real name but he can’t speak. The elixir I jabbed into him is magically supercharged. I doubt he’s ever felt anything like it in his life. I switch on the torch of my phone so that I can enjoy the expression on his face. He is so potion-addled that he is drooling. The light is all the better for him to see me by. I want him to know who did this to him.
I drag the dead weight of his body a couple of feet. When he is close enough to the back of the cage, I cuff his hands to the bars. The elixir will eventually wear off and I want him helpless in here. I want him feeble and immobile.
“Sweet pea,” I say. “It’s time to accept that you tried and you failed. And nobody likes a failure.”
His eyes glower. If he could speak he’d be screaming at me.
I crouch over him, enjoying the sight of his impotence. “Poor pathetic you,” I say, enjoying how his eyes seemed to bulge at my words.
He doesn’t want to be pathetic. He wanted to be powerful. He is desperately trying to think how to escape even now. If he could, he would scream at me that it isn’t his fault. That none of what happened is of his making.
I laugh at him. “You know you have to die, right?”
He can’t answer, so I grab a handful of his hair and make him nod his head. I giggle at the pathetic helplessness on his face. The puce humiliation.
“You’re wondering how India got your phone number, aren’t you?” I ask him. “I gave it to her. Naughty you. Hiding in plain sight among the search party. I bet you just loved it. Speaking of phones…”
I search his pockets until I find his. I take it out and use his fingerprint to unlock it, and then I scroll through his contacts list. “Well, would you look at that? I wonder who this big old X could possibly be?”
He blinks his eyes rapidly. His eyes are the one thing that he still has control of. If he could, he would be shaking his head frantically.
“No? You don’t want me to call this number?”
I jerk his head from side to side, shaking it like he would be if he could.
I slap his cheek. “Too bad for you, buddy. But it looks like this payday is going to be even better than I thought.” I snap his slack jaw shut. “Hush now, puppy, while mommy speaks to the grown-ups.”
I dial the X and wait for the person on the other end to answer.
Chapter 22
DIANA
